#once i save up enough to get out of this house. and then move somewhere where i can be Out. my winning era will begin

[pawbeanies]

SICK of being a well behaved boring office boy who doesnt get out !!!! im gonna smoke a weed !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! im gonna be BAD !!!!!!

[helaintoloki]

Hey I want to request something since I saw your request was open. So can you do a fic where five and y/n ( they are already married) end up in the deli with the other fives.

Basically there are only few fives that have a y/n but she's died in their timeline. So basically it's just the other fives wanting to know more about her abd the fives telling their stories of their y/n

Y/n absolutely loves the attention she almost sequeled when she saw the other fives lol.

a/n: so this actually ended up turning into a more depressing piece than i planned LOL but the original intention is there

warnings: language, angst, mentions of death, light amount of fluff

summary: your search for answers leads you to a deli with multiple versions of your husband inside

As the danger of the impending apocalypse finally begins to sink in for Five, he realizes he needs to get you somewhere safe until he figures out a way to stop the world from ending. Thus, while his siblings continued to fight off the monstrous cleanse that was Ben and Jennifer, Five quickly grabbed hold of you and jumped you both to the only place he could think of.

You stumble over your own feet as your body adjusts to being dropped into a new setting, your hand quickly raising to shield your eyes from the bright neons that hang above you as you take in your surroundings. A subway car comes to a screeching halt in front you, and before you can protest Five is quickly ushering you inside.

“Five, where are we?” You demand, completely disoriented from having been transported away from the fight without warning and preoccupied with worry at the thought of your family fighting against the Cleanse without you both present. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you somewhere safe where you can stay until I figure out how to undo this mess,” he instructs you hastily, his lips pulling back into an exasperated frown at your resistance to enter the subway car. He doesn’t have time for you to fight him on this, his siblings need him, and he needs you away from the fight. Though you’re skilled at combat and wickedly smart, you don’t have powers, and Five can’t risk something happening to you while he’s preoccupied with saving the world.

“You’re leaving me?!” You exclaim in distress as panic immediately begins to take over your rational mind. You push against him harder to move away from the train, but despite all your efforts the boy doesn’t budge.

“It’s only temporary, I promise you,” he assures you, and when you shove him hard in the chest once more he tightly takes hold of your hands and brings them to his lips to comfort you. “I’ll take you somewhere nice, somewhere with a beautiful house and a garden full of strawberry bushes. I found it while exploring other timelines in search of clues on how to prevent the apocalypse, I know it’s safe because I went there alone. You can stay in the house until this is all over and I’ll come back for you.”

“Five, what if…” you swallow harshly as tears begin to well in your eyes, your emotions overtaking you at the thought of this being goodbye, “…what if you don’t come back?”

Five refuses to meet your gaze when the question leaves your lips. He’d never lie to you, and he knows he can’t guarantee he’ll live long enough to join you in the peaceful timeline he’d found, but he doesn’t have the heart to voice this to you. How can he look you in your tear filled eyes and tell you that this might be the last time you’ll be together as husband and wife?

Sighing, he releases your hands in exchange for cupping your face so that he may brush away the tears that slide down your warm cheeks. He hopes that one day you’ll be able to understand that every moment leading up to this has been for you, and he would happily die a hundred times over if it meant keeping you safe. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

You open your mouth to argue only to snap it shut when your gaze falls over his shoulder and lands on another figure in the subway. You blink away your tears to get a better view and are left speechless when you realize you’re staring back at the face of your husband.

But how can that be when he’s standing right in front of you?

Noticing your change in demeanor, Five follows your gaze and spots the lookalike that stands across the way from you both. His features contort into confusion as you both watch the second Five offer you a wave in greeting before disappearing down the stairs. Exchanging looks of uncertainty, Five and yourself immediately rush after the doppelgänger to figure out just what exactly is going on.

Your quick chase leads you both to the front doors of a deli, the dazzling sign above welcoming you warmly as you cautiously open the doors and set foot into Max’s despite Five’s protests to wait. If this other Five has the answers you need to return home safely together, then you’ll stop at nothing to get them.

Your originally confident demeanor quickly dwindles when the restaurant becomes deathly silent upon your entry. While you only expected to see one Five, you now find about twenty of them staring intently at you as you slowly walk towards the lookalike from the subway that waves you over to his table. Five is quick to rush after you and place a protective arm around your waist; you’re not the only one unsettled by their stares, and he feels uncharacteristically territorial in the presence of himself.

“Have a seat,” the subway lookalike offers with a gesture towards the empty space across from him, and you’re both quick to slide into the cushions at his command. “I’m glad you found me.”

“What is this place?” Your husband demands impatiently as another Five dressed in a waiter’s uniform approaches your table with three cups of coffee in hand.

“This is where all the Fives come after they decide to give up on figuring out a way to stop the apocalypse.”

As he speaks, a plate of pie is suddenly placed in front of you, and before you can even open your mouth to question it, the waiter offers you wink and assures you, “It’s on the house.”

Picking up the fork, your eyes widen in surprise as you realize what specific dessert has been given to you. Looking up at the Five across from you, you ask, “How did he know that-“

“Pumpkin pie is your favorite?” The lookalike finishes for you with an amused smile before leaning back to take a drink of his coffee. “We all know that, because we all know you.”

“Me?” You repeat quietly, brows drawn together in confusion as you look to your husband who seems rather displeased with all of the attention you’re getting. He never once thought to think of himself as potential competition over you, but it figures. Who better than himself to sweep you off your feet?

“Mind telling me why you all seem to have such a great interest in my wife?” Five demands with a wry smile, eyes blazing with annoyance and a subtle hint of jealousy.

“‘Your’ wife?” The Five behind the deli counter scoffs in amusement. “Take a number, pal.”

“What deli Five means to say is that each and every one of us has our own y/n in our own perspective timelines,” the boy across from you clarifies before gesturing to the the back of the shop. Your eyes widen in shock as you take in all the various pictures of yourself that line the wall from top to bottom, and it takes you a moment to process the fact that various versions of you have existed throughout time unbeknownst to you.

“My y/n was a trained assassin,” the Five at the table next to you describes with a dreamy smile before biting into his sandwich.

“Mine was sent alongside Hazel and Cha Cha to kill me,” another voices while pulling down the collar of his shirt to showcase the ghastly scar on his chest. “She gave me this along with three beautiful kids before I screwed it all up with this end of the world bullshit.”

“If you all care so much about her then why did you give up trying to save the world?” Your husband protests in agitation. Your search for answers is going absolutely nowhere, and you’re both left with more questions than solutions. If these doppelgängers were really meant to be him from different timelines, then why did they quit so easily? His sole purpose, his entire being, was doing everything in his power to ensure the safety of his family. Come hell or high water, Five would always be willing to get his hands dirty if it meant you and his siblings lived to see another day. So why weren’t they doing the same? “Why come here instead of preventing the apocalypse so she has the chance to live a safe and happy life even if it means you can’t be in it?”

A forlorn silence fills the deli at his question, and now none of the Fives can find it in themselves to look at you. Their features are almost shameful, their eyes full of guilt and their shoulders full of tension as no one dares to answer.

“When us Fives find a way to save the world, y/n is the one that pays the price,” the boy across from you discloses somberly before tilting his head to meet your gaze. Looking at you is like looking at a ghost, and he has to stop himself from reaching out to you as if you are his own. “The Handler killed my y/n after discovering my betrayal of the Commission.”

Another Five raises a woeful hand before announcing, “Viktor killed my y/n on accident with his bow after he discovered his powers.”

“My wife took a bullet for me because she thought my life was worth more than her own.”

“Dad had y/n disposed of in my timeline because he saw her as a distraction to me and my siblings.”

“Cha Cha tracked us down, found our home, and burned it to the ground with y/n still in it while I was away trying to save the world.”

You swallow harshly and ignore the knots in your stomach at hearing all the violent ways in which other versions of you had met their end. Your heart aches at learning what these men have been through and how much they’ve lost, but it also makes you begin to wonder if your fate will be worse than any story they can come up with. Sensing your discomfort, Five wraps a comforting arm around your figure and pulls you closer into his side.

“No matter how many times I traveled back to make it right, the result was the same,” the boy across from you relents in a desolate tone. “If I couldn’t even keep the most important woman in my life safe then how could I expect myself to save the world?”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you murmur softly, taking it upon yourself to reach across for his hand and offer your comfort. “I’m sorry for all of your losses. But as a y/n myself, I don’t think she would have wanted you to give up. She would have wanted you to keep going in spite of her death because that’s what she loved about you- your strength and your resilience when it comes to saving the people you care about.”

“God, you sound just like her,” he comments with a doleful laugh before shaking his head and pulling his hand away. “Believe me, I did everything I could. But no matter what we do, there’s no escaping the apocalypse.”

“So that’s it? There’s nothing we can do?” Five retorts in disbelief. This was all a complete waste of his time. He’s nowhere near close to preventing the Cleanse, and you’re still not somewhere safe away from the impending apocalypse.

“You can enjoy the time you have left with your y/n,” the lookalike instructs firmly, the other Fives in the deli nodding along. “You got lucky, you still have your wife, so why don’t you do us all a favor and take her somewhere nice?”

“I’m not giving up on this,” your husband argues before hastily rising from his seat in the booth. “There has to be a way to save the world, and I won’t stop until I figure it out myself.”

You watch him stalk out of the deli with purpose as he slams the door open and begins to formulate his next move. The room is silent other than the bell that jingles above the door, and you take this as your cue to leave.

“I should probably go after him,” you admit with a meek smile before scooting your way out of the booth. The Five from the subway rises to meet you, and he can’t help but to carefully cup your face in his hands and admire your features for just a moment. This might be the last time he’ll ever get to see you in person, and he’d like to commit every detail of you to memory from the reflection of the light in your eye to the smell of your perfume.

“If he ever gives you any trouble, you know where to find us,” he instructs you firmly before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and releasing you from his hold. Smiling faintly, you return the gesture by chastely pressing your lips to his cheek before rushing off after your husband.

Who would have guessed that in every timeline, in every possible version of himself to exist, Five’s love for you knows no bounds.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

May I have Childhood friends to lovers with Loki or Bruce Wayne pleaseee… thank you!

.⋆｡For the Longest Time｡⋆.

Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

You were always there in his life, just like he was for you. A little jealousy and a clingy eight year old might finally give you the push you both need

Warnings: fluff, jealousy, simp!Bruce, vague mention of hook-ups, little bit of Dick’s abandonment issues, mutual pining WC: 2.5k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Where’s Y/N?” A little voice spoke up from somewhere over Bruce’s left shoulder. He groaned and buried his face deeper in the silk pillowcase, he had only just crawled into bed. The mattress dipped as Dick hauled himself onto the bed, making Bruce swallow down a curse.

“What’s up?” He rolled onto his back and pulled back the blankets enough for a little body to slip under the covers. He received a kick to his very sore ribs as Dick clambered over him in his attempt to settle in the crook of Bruce’s shoulder. The eight year old sighed happily and cuddled up close to his adoptive father.

Bruce smiled despite the throbbing pain in his torso and the early wake up. “What did you need?” 

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked again, propping his chin on Bruce’s collarbone.

“She’s at her apartment?” His voice tilted up, confused at the question. Sure, you were at the manor quite frequently given that you helped Bruce with Dick’s care but you had never stayed the night, save for once when both you and Bruce were too drunk to even move.

Dick huffed, his bottom lip poking out as he looked away from Bruce. “That’s stupid.” The older man swallowed back a chuckle, instead he placed a hand on the boy’s back, his palm almost covering the entire thing. 

“Why’s it stupid?” He shut his eyes again. 

“Cause I want her to live with me!” 

“Hmm, maybe you can go live with her and I can finally get some sleep.” Tiny fingers dug into his armpit, making Bruce yelp and raise an eyebrow at Dick.

“No. I don’t wanna move my toys. Make her live here.” Bruce sighed heavily, sinking further into his mattress.

Yeah, right. He wanted to say but held his tongue. He had broached the idea when he had first taken Dick in, needing an extra set of hands for the rowdy child but you had quite literally laughed him off, just the same as you did when you were both eighteen and he had tried to give you one of his credit cards. You were fiercely independent and while you loved Dick, you still had your own work and life.

“You could try, chum but I think she likes her house more.” 

“Then let’s go there today!” Dick pushed himself up onto his knees, eyes shining with this brilliant idea. 

“Chum-“ But Dick had rushed out of the room before Bruce could get another word out, leaving him to contemplate whether he was going to break his son’s heart by falling back asleep or get up for the day and end up with a massive headache later. Distantly, he could hear Dick chattering away to himself and he knew he would have to raid your medicine cabinet in a few hours.

——————

Dick practically flew up the stairs of your apartment building, his backpack rattling with the sound of loose Lego bricks and inevitably a book he would get you to read him, as Bruce trailed behind, dark sunglasses perched on the end of his nose. He himself held a bag of food from Alfred and a bottle of your favourite wine as a sorry for the unexpected visit. He could at least pat himself on the back for delaying Dick just long enough for the boy to get some food and Bruce to get a couple hours of sleep.

“Come on! You’re so slow!” Dick whined as he reached the landing on your floor. He bounced on the balls of his feet before he huffed and threw open the door, darting down the empty hallway. The rattling of his bag grew distant and then, he was banging on your door with all the might his little fists could muster.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Bruce cringed, his head ducked down as he passed by the other apartments on your floor, silently apologising to each of them. 

“Chum you can’t-“ But your door opened right then and the breath was knocked from his lungs. You were wearing a dark red dress that perfectly matched the matte lipstick on your plump lips. The fabric perfectly clung to you, making your curves even more prominent. You were still wearing your slippers and only had one earring in but you were still the most beautiful thing Bruce had ever seen, just as you always had been.

“Well isn’t this a surprise.” Dick wasted no time, throwing himself into your arms, he squealed loudly and buried his face in the crook of your neck. You laughed as his little fingers dug into the neckline of your dress, no doubt ruining the fabric. “I thought there was a monkey at my door with all that noise.” You ran your left hand along his side as you stood up, making Dick giggle and cling to you even tighter. In a couple months, Bruce doubted you’d be able to pick him up anymore.

“I missed you!” You beamed. Bruce felt his knees buckle.

“It’s a good thing you came over then, cause I missed you too!” 

Bruce cleared his throat. “I hope I can be included in that sentiment as well.” You finally looked up at him, your eyes shining like stars. You smirked, biting down on your lip as you gave the man a quick one over.

“Depends, what did you bring me?” 

“So my child doesn’t count?” Dick laughed again, his knees digging into your side. You raised an eyebrow at Bruce who lifted the bottle of wine with a sly smile.

“Why didn’t you start with that? Come on in.” You stepped back into the apartment, leaving the door open for him to follow behind. 

Your home had always been a comfort for Bruce, a safe haven tucked away from the world and his responsibilities. The weight of Batman and being the last Wayne, and even though he loved him dearly, being Dick’s father, lifted from his shoulders as the soft colours of your walls surrounded him. 

You wandered into the kitchen, like you normally did when they stopped by for a visit, Dick chattering away about anything and everything that came into his little mind while Bruce stopped to look at the new photos you had hung up in the living room. Photos of memories he had forgotten. There was one of the both of you in a pillow fort that towered over you, your faces slathered in chocolate from bags of candy at your feet. Another was the 3rd grade dance that your parents had chaperoned, you in a bright pink princess dress complete with fairy wings and a plastic tiara and him in a tiny suit with one of his father’s best ties that was far too big for him. Your high school graduation party where you and Bruce in all your drunken genius decided to race up one of the old trees on the Wayne property and got stuck at the top.

But the most recent one made his heart skip a beat; it was of all three of you curled up on your couch, Dick sound asleep on your lap as Bruce ‘rested his eyes’ while leaning on your shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around both of you as you beamed up at the camera. All of his happiest moments had you in them and for the life of him, he wouldn’t change anything about it.

Bruce turned and spotted your heels by the door, the red-bottomed ones that you only ever used when you wanted to get laid. Something in his stomach turned sour at the thought. “Why are you so dressed up?” He asked as casually as he could though his voice cracked. 

“Yeah! You look pretty!” Dick chirped though his own voice was muffled, no doubt you had already given him a cookie that he shouldn’t be having.

“I have a date,” You cooed (to Dick but Bruce liked to pretend it was for him), “but since you guys are here now. I’ll cancel it.”

“You don’t have to do that. We can go.” Relief made his shoulders sag but Bruce still forced a frown on his lips as you came back around the corner, Dick still perched on your wide hip. You were practically glowing with joy.

You waved him off and pressed a kiss to Dick’s chubby cheek, leaving a bright lipstick stain there. “I would much rather spend the evening with you guys. It also means I get to wear comfy clothes instead of this dumb dress.” Dick slipped from your arms and went to his bag, which he had dropped on the couch.

“Are you sure?” But that wasn’t the question he was really asking. You just smiled at him, putting a hand on his bicep as you leaned in close.

“There’s nowhere else I would rather be. Now let me get changed and we can watch a movie, how’s that sound bud?” Dick grumbled something to the affirmative, making you laugh to yourself as you turned to go to your room but not without a parting squeeze to Bruce’s arm. He watched you go, his gaze dropping to your ass to appreciate the sight for just a moment before he caught himself and turned his attention back to his son.

Dick, who was already observing his father with a curious expression, suddenly lit up with an idea. He covered his mouth with his hand and then disappeared as he fell back onto the cushions, a little laugh escaping him as he landed. Bruce ignored the boy and went to the kitchen to get some snacks together for all of you. 

The TV flicked to life, dousing the apartment with a hazy background noise that served to lead Bruce deeper into the fantasy of this life of domesticity actually being his. If he let himself, he could almost imagine how perfect it would be, just his family spending time together away from the rest of the world. But there was still that nagging fact that you had a date tonight, one that you cancelled for him sure, but a date nonetheless.

You weren’t his wife or his girlfriend, and that made his blood freeze.

He pulled out the cork from the bottle with perhaps a bit more force than necessary, sending a few drops of red liquid directly onto his white shirt. “Fuck.” He groaned and grabbed the dish towel on the counter to try and scrub away at the stain. 

“I can’t leave you alone for a second.” Your smaller hands gripped his waist, turning him around so you could take the towel from him. Bruce let you manhandle him until you could easily rub against his chest but the stain had already set in. Your bottom lip poked out, an almost overwhelming temptation to your oldest friend, before your fingers curled into his belt and tugged him away from the kitchen counter.

Bruce went willingly, eagerly. “I’ve got some of your shirts in my wardrobe, go get changed and I’ll finish up here.” He nodded blankly and wandered away from you.

You watched him go for just a moment before finishing pouring out the wine and laying some of the cheeses Alfred has so thoughtfully packed on a small tray. You grabbed some hopefully not stale crackers from the cabinet and journeyed back into the living room. “What are we watching tonight Dickie?”

Dick looked up from his spot between the couch and coffee table as you sat down with an almost bored expression on his little face. “Star Wars.”

“Duh.” You replied.

Soon Bruce wandered back in. “Why exactly do you have so many of my shirts in your closet?” You shrugged behind your glass, though he knew your cheeks were heated with embarrassment.

“Cause you’re clumsy and I knew I’d have to keep clean clothes for you.” He flopped down on the couch next to you, his arm immediately finding its place across your shoulders.

“Yeah right.” You curled into his side, settling in for a nice little evening.

It was halfway through the movie that Dick climbed onto the couch between you and his dad. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” He muttered wistfully, taking yours and Bruce’s hand into his. You looked at Bruce from over his little head.

“Aw buddy, we can do this whenever you want. You’re always welcome here, you know that.” He shook his head and Bruce's heart sank.

“What do you mean chum?” He asked, wondering if there was something more going on. Dick’s chest inflated as he took in a deep breath.

“But we always go home and you never come with us! You-you don’t really want us, you live so far away. And,” he sighed heavily, giving you the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes he could muster, “and you go on dates with people who aren’t my dad. You’ll leave.” His grip on your hand tightened like you would disappear right then.

Bruce’s heart lurched as your lips parted. “You should date him instead! And then we can all live together at home like we should be!” Dick continued and then, he slammed your hand into Bruce’s, forcing your fingers to intertwine.

“Dickie-“

“No! You’re supposed to be together! Even Alfred says so! So just do it already and then we can go home. Together.” His gaze switched to Bruce, who caught his glare. The man swallowed thickly and looked at you and for the first time in his life, Bruce couldn’t tell what you were thinking.

You let out a shaky breath after a moment, your fingers pressing into the back of his hand. He could feel your pulse against his wrist, your heartbeat was fast, almost matching his own. “Maybe you’re right Dickie.”

“What?” The word escaped him like he had just been punched, making your lips curl up into a bashful smile. 

“Maybe, I should be dating you and not those other men who I always end up comparing to you anyway. Maybe I should be going home with you.” 

“I think maybe you should.” Bruce leaned over his son, his free hand coming up to hold your full cheek. “Because I have spent my whole life with you by my side and now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t want you so far away anymore. I want to see your face everyday and hear your voice from beside me every moment that I can.” 

Your eyes dropped to his lips and that was all it took for Bruce to close the distance and finally kissed you like he should have done years ago when he realised that no other woman would live up to the place you carved out in his heart. You immediately melted into him, laying your hand on top of his own. 

Just as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, Dick got up on his knees between you and threw his skinny arms around your necks. You separated just as he shouted, “I told you!” 

You both laughed and hugged him back, sinking back down into the couch all together. Bruce’s chest warmed. Maybe, finally, he could get you to come home.

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[moonstruckme]

poly!marauders x drunk!reader at a party and reader needy but they don’t want to help reader because they don’t want to do anything when reader basically unconscious of what’s happening because reader is drunk. So they try to explain to reader that they will gladly take care of them after they get better and go to bed. Thank you!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: alcohol, explicit themes/language (? like no smut just want of smut haha)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

At some point, your boyfriends had evidently decided that you’re not to be let out of sight. You’ve tried to go get another drink on several occasions, but no matter who you talk to, you always seem to end up right back on the Longbottom’s settee with one of the three of them. Now they’ve fixed you in Sirius’ lap, his hands spread firm and possessive over the curves of your hips to keep you from running off. Every time he shifts his leg even a little, the heat in your core intensifies. 

Now, he laughs at something someone says, body rumbling like a motor underneath yours, and you nearly whimper. You lean back until your head is on his shoulder. 

“Siri,” you murmur into his ear, “let’s go upstairs.” 

He turns his head into yours, smirking. “We are upstairs, sweet thing.” 

Oh. “Well, can we go somewhere else?” 

“Why, honey?” Sirius’ voice is smooth as always, and now it runs over your skin like velvet. You could almost shiver. “You bored?” 

You lean away just slightly so you can look him in the eyes, keeping your voice low. “I wanna fuck.” 

You watch surprise, then delight, and finally chagrin play one after the other over your boyfriend’s features. He presses a chaste kiss to the skin under your ear, repentant. “I wish I could,” he tells you, breath fanning over your neck and giving you goosebumps, “but it’ll have to wait.” 

“Why?” you whine. 

From the other side of the couch, James sends you an inquisitive look at the sound. Sirius pats your thigh consolingly. “It just will, baby. I’ll take care of you tomorrow, yeah? Let it go for now.” 

You don’t think you will. 

You start squirming in Sirius’ lap, trying to turn around so you can kiss him but not quite coordinated enough to manage it. As it turns out, your fidgeting is enough. His hold tightens on your hips, and he leans forward, murmuring a quiet “behave” into your ear. 

Your cunt pulses. Galvanized by this discovery, you repeat your new tactic, shuffling around on your boyfriend’s lap until his grip is punishing. You can feel the shape of his rings through the material of your bottoms. Sirius growls, and James’ head pops into view once again. 

“What’s going on over there?” he asks. 

“Sirius is being mean to me,” you whine before your boyfriend can get a word in. “He won’t let me move.” 

“I’ll bet.” James eyes Sirius’ flustered countenance, beckoning for you. “Come here, babydoll.” 

Sirius releases you into James hold. You notice him crossing his legs as soon as you’re away. James takes his boyfriend's trials as a cautionary tale, tucking you into his side rather than sitting you on his lap. 

“You’re in a troublesome mood, aren't you?” he asks fondly, rubbing up and down your arm. 

“M’not,” you object. “Sirius was just being mean. I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Mhm.” His disbelieving hum purrs through your bones. 

You cozy up to James, looking at him through your lashes. The material of his jumper feels nice against your cheek. “You’ll help me, won’t you?” 

He laughs raucously. You’re about to scowl, but he pecks you on the crown of your head, saving himself. “Just to be clear, are you asking me to fuck you in Alice and Frank’s new house while you’re sloppy drunk?” 

You nod impatiently. 

“Yeah, that’s not happening, darling.” He delivers another kiss to the top of your head to soften the blow. “But I do think I can persuade Remus to take us all home, how about that?” 

Just as quickly as disappointment takes root inside you, hope blooms in its stead. You smile so hugely your ear pops. “Yes, please,” you tell James. 

He squeezes your upper arm affectionately before leaning over, conveying something to Remus with a look that you might normally be able to interpret but currently can’t be bothered to. They’re going to take you home. You know what that means. There, you can fuck louder and nastier and longer than you ever would’ve been able to if you were trying to be discrete in the Longbottom’s spare bedroom. You can’t get there fast enough. 

James stands you up, and there’s a flurry of goodbyes and niceties as your boyfriends shepherd you out the door. Or, you know they must all be with you, but it’s sort of hard to keep track of three people at once. You’re not completely sure whose hand is on your forearm as you descend the steps outside, or who wrestles you into their jacket when you shiver at the brisk night air. You lean contentedly into the loving touches regardless. 

Eventually, it’s Sirius who gets you settled in the backseat, worriedly making Remus take your hands in his so you don’t stick them in the door when he closes it. 

“You don’t think you’re going to be sick?” he asks, and you have the vague impression he’d been upset with you not long ago, but you can’t recall what for and there’s none of that in his demeanor now. He tucks a stray hair behind your ear, lips pursed. “I can run back in and get a bag for the car ride.” 

“No, m’fine.” You sit up extra straight to prove it, cheesing at him. “I’m excited to go home.” 

Sirius snickers and closes your door, but Remus cocks an eyebrow at you. 

“What exactly do you think is going to happen when we get home?” he asks. 

“We’re gonna fuck,” you say brightly. 

In the driver’s seat, James barks out a laugh at your crass language. Remus darts a look his way, looking like he might be biting back a smile of his own. 

“Dove,” he says, “we’re not doing that tonight. We’re going to have some water and go to sleep.” You must look crushed, because his smile turns near pitying. “You’re too drunk, sweetheart.” 

“But I want to,” you say brokenly. 

“If you wake up tomorrow feeling better, you can have whatever you want.” 

From the front seat, Sirius says, “I’ve tried to tell her this.” 

You make a plaintive whining sound, and Remus reaches around your face, pulling your head down to rest on his shoulder consolingly. “You’re being so mean to me,” you lament. 

“Oh, I know,” he coos, patting your hair. “M’the worst.”

[ziminy]

Run little butterfly

You were trying to run from home when you met him, disappearing from his side just the way you appeared next to him, in a dramatic way out of nowhere. And now that he found you, he won't let you go ever again.

Tags: smut, mdni, f!Cinderella reader, king!sukuna, true form sukuna, Sukuna's hand mouth (you'll see what I'm talking about), oral (m and f receiving), first time, fingering, creampie, crying, double penetration, two dicks kuna, Sukuna being a little bit too obsessed with you, jealousy, Sukuna haves a harem,

Author's note: this is a last minute fic I came up with to not leave sukuna out this year's list. Don't worry bbg, I'll never forget about you😘

Author's note: a very much different version of Cinderella. I was thinking of sticking to the original but it doesn't really scream me, so I had to change it.

Masterlist kinktober masterlist

You were the only child of a small noble house. You grew up enjoying the little's of life, trying to understand the beauty of it and the people next to you.

Your father was gone most of the time since he was traveling for work. You had your mother next to you, making you feel less sad and looking forward for the next day to come.

But your happiness didn't lasted for long, because your mother fell ill. And not long after that, she unfortunately passed away, leaving you and your father all alone.

It was sad, your favorite person in the world disappearing just in a blink of an eye.

You didn't even had time to mourn her death and your father remarried, bringing home a woman you never saw in your life and two other kids who happened to be the same age as you.

You were ignored most of the time, your father gone and your new mother couldn't give a single fuck about what you were doing.

You wished you could go back in time when no one would look in your direction. Because the moment your father also passed away, your life did a 180.

Everything happened way to fast, losing your family, now even the servants leaving because that woman was refusing to pay them. You were also moved to the attic.

You couldn't catch a single break since that woman and her daughters were mistreating you everyday.

You stayed there for a few years, that until you turned old enough to leave somewhere far away and live independently.

You didn't cared about the house, the memories, the people you once loved anymore. All you wanted was to run as soon as possible.

So, one afternoon, right after everybody called it a day and you were supposed to go to sleep, you tried to make your escape.

Taking a horse, you made your way to the gate, getting ready to run so far away that you won't have to ever think about this place again.

You followed the main path, going and going, not stopping until you were out of town.

For the first time in years, you were happy. The more you were getting away from that hell hole, the more you smiled.

After good minutes of getting further away from that house, you calmed down. Feeling at a safe distance to finally breath and let all the weight from your shoulders drop.

You stopped in front of an inn. Getting off your horse and leave it in front of the illuminated building, petting it for a moment before you got some courage to get inside.

You had a few coins that you managed to save over the past few weeks. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep you alive for a few days until you find some accommodation, a house that you could finally call your own.

You opened the door, immediately being met with a few people that were sitting at the tables. This places was a lot more full on the inside that it looked on the outside. Whatever, it was none of your business what other does when you had your own problems.

"I'd like to rent a room for the night." you said when you got to the counter.

"I have to check what rooms I have available." the older man in front of you said.

"Also, I have a horse outside. Do you have a stable where I can move it to?" you asked, hoping that your loyal friend will get a good night sleep.

"In the back." you wasted no more time and went outside, moving your horse to a comfortable stable where it could rest for a while.

Now, you were walking back to the inn, ready to pay for your room and sleep until tomorrow morning, then take off to another town and only imagining how life would be stress free.

Right outside the inn, there was an extremely tall guy, you could only see his body form because he had his face covered with the hood of his cloak.

You only looked at him for a moment, but right before you were about to enter the tavern, you felt some arms on you, being dragged to the side.

Your heart was about to get out your chest, you thought that was the end of your journey. Here goes your freedom. It haven't even been an hour and you were caught already.

But instead of your evil step mother or her ugly daughters, you were met with that tall man from earlier.

"I must admit, they did a good job this time." he said in a low voice that gave you chills down your spine. You were confused, not understanding his words, but you didn't dared to open your mouth. You just stood there, silent, waiting for an explanation.

You looked at him with big eyes, you could bearly see his face since it was dark outside, and the light from inside the inn wasn't giving you any help to figure out who he was.

He knew nothing about you and he was already salivating. You were nothing like he saw before. Daring to show up before him in peasants clothes, looking tired and full of anxiety. And yet, you looked so sweet that he couldn't help but want to break you already.

He thought he said he doesn't want any kind of unwanted guests during his trip, but he's not complaining about it when you looked so ready to take him.

He couldn't help but laugh, making you even more confused, and now trying to get away.

When you thought that you could get free, you felt another pair or arms around you. Now you got four arms on you, two on your hips and keeping you in place, one hand on your arm and one under your chin, lifting it up to look at him.

All you could see were his red eyes, that looked like they're glowing.

He looked like a beast who just captured his prey and you couldn't help but feel scared, he was way too intimidating.

His eyes scaned your face for a moment, looking at the dumb expression you had, and then it went lower.

Your lips look so tasty. He wanted to kiss you just to see how you'll react, even if he's usually the type to avoid such act.

Usually, his women would come into his room, look all dolled up and pretty before they take care of him and then leave. No questions asked, no feelings involved.

However, you look so dumb. He couldn't help but want to tease you. To touch you and overstimulate you until you're even more stupid that you already are.

He leaned down, getting his face closer to yours, somehow trying to anticipate your next move. Will you moan or will you keep quiet? Now he wanted to hear your broken cries even more.

He stopped right in front of your face, your noses almost touching. All he did was to look at you.

You froze, all the air from your lungs stopping in place. You couldn't process what was going on.

"Don't use that pretty brain on things you don't understand." even he can't understand why he was acting like that. Craving for you even if this is the first time he saw you.

You parted your lips, wanting to say something, but you couldn't say a single word. Your voice was stuck in your throat.

"Forget about everything they told you. That training was irrelevant." training? What was he talking about? "I make the rules, remember that." right, you shouldn't listen to his servants telling you how to please him. He knows himself better than them.

He misunderstood this completely. You weren't one of his new added toys to his collection. You had no idea who he even was to begin with.

But he didn't cared, his face continued moving, ignoring whatever questions you might have as his lips finally touched yours.

His eyes were cold, and so was his touch. His hands were roughly placed on your body, dragging you closer in his arms. His kisses were loveless, no sign of affection as he tried to deeper the kiss.

Taking all the warmth you had to offer, his cold body was slowly becoming warmer. Bathing in your scent, one of his hands went behind your head, holding you in place to be able to kiss you better. One of his hands on yours, trying to wrap it around his body, wanting to feel more of your touch.

He wanted to be in your arms, to feel how is it when you hold him tightly.

Fuck is even wrong with him. He's not usually like this but now his cocks were hard against his pants, wanting to break free and be inside you. Ah, but he's going feral just thinking about your warm wet cunt taking all of him in. And you must take him in, he won't let you rest until you can take him properly.

"Master." someone could be heard from behind a corner, making you jump and almost run from there.

"Tsk." the tall man said annoyed, getting his face away from you, now fixing his posture but still having you in his arms.

"I prepared the thing you asked me to." that person said again, not daring to show their face.

"Alright." the man said annoyed, finally getting his arms away from you. He looked at you for one more time before he left, leaving you all alone to process what just happened.

You couldn't possibly remain there for the night, you had to leave this place, and you had to leave now. That guy was nothing but a big red flag. Everything about him screamed danger, and you weren't stupid enough to fuck around and find out.

So, in a desperate attempt to get away from there, you went back to the stables, getting your horse out and getting on top of it. You left that place in a hurry, not looking back for a moment as you went back to the place you consider to be safe. By safe I meant that he couldn't possibly appear there, there's no way he could.

So, you ran back to that hell house. Leaving the horse back in its place as you quickly ran inside the house.

Never in your life did you think you'll be so happy to see the same old kitchen you spend most of your time into. And never were you so happy to run to the attic and jump into that rusty bed, falling asleep immediately.

But when you finally got home, the mysterious stranger that you met at the inn just finished his task. Getting into his room and calling for someone to get you to him. He couldn't help but want to ravish you right there and then, split you open on his dicks and pump a few loads in you.

"There's no one in this inn that describes that appearance." were they shitting on him now?

"This female that was recently added to the harem." he tried to find other words to explain it. He knew nothing about you besides how you looked and how sweet you taste for him.

"She's currently at the palace. You told us you don't want to see her because of how inexperienced she was." he did that, didn't he. He remembers something now, a girl with long dark hair getting into his bed wearing nothing but a red transparent bathrobe. She was nothing but talk, it made him lose interest immediately.

"Then I want to see all the females in this inn." he got to find you. He knows you're real, it was no way you weren't.

"There are no other guests besides us." then who the fuck were you? Why did you appeared only before him and then disappeared after making him so hungry for you. Were you a piece of his imagination? No wander he wanted to touch you so bad.

Then he haves no option but to look for someone similar to you, his vision, when he gets back to the palace.

And that night, one of you slept better than a a cat napping under the sunlight and the other was wide awake the whole time.

Sure, the next day came and it reminded you of why you tried to run in the first place, but wasn't it better when you knew you won't have to deal with strangers. Especially someone like that brute of a man.

Your chores and the harassment those three women gave you was annoying, but after yesterday, you'll managed to live a few more weeks with it.

When the weather clears, you'll go out again, and this time you'll do a lot more better.

But perhaps, the universe was giving you a much better solution than to sneak out the house.

Because, you see, by the end of that week your house received a invitation to the Royal ball, and it says that the king is finally going to chose a queen.

Your sisters were running around in circles trying to find a good dress. And the mess they made while looking around was giving you headaches.

But you couldn't really complain when you're planning to leave while they're at the ball.

"Can I come to the ball?" you asked with a basket full of clothes in your hands, being tasked to wash and iron them by the end of the day.

"Mother! Do you hear her nonsense?" one of the sisters yelled, making you close your eyes at the loud noise.

"She can't! Mother!" the other sister said, going to her mother and trying to beg her to say no.

"Do you think they need more servants there? It's a happy ceremony, not a job interview." you knew no was the answer, but still. You tried to see if something changed at least in one of them. Hoping to find a reason to stay in this house for a little longer.

The moment they left in their carriage to the ball, it was the moment you ran out the house and ready to get on the horse.

"Now now, no need to be sad." a masculine voice could be heard behind you, making you turn around instantly.

Two men, both of them dressed in black, one with long black hair and the other with white hair and sun glasses.

"We're here to save you." the white haired guy said, making you raise an eye brow. "Aren't you glad?"

"Who are you?" they acted like it was normal for two unknown men to appear in your yard and act all nonchalant.

"Your fairy godmother."

"But you're two, and men." you tried to correct their words.

"We come in a package. And being a fairy godmother sounds better than a fairy godfather." the white haired guy said.

"Gojo and I will help you go to the ball." the dark haired man said.

"I don't want to." you refused, getting your horse out and ready to get on it.

"But you looked so sad earlier." the white haired guy sounded like he was mocking you. "Come on, don't lie to us."

"If you want to do something for me then kick those women out." it was much better than going to a ball you weren't invited to.

"But you look like you already have your future planned out. Why would we interfere?"

"Then why are you here?" you said, getting ready to get on your horse.

"We better get started or you'll arive when the ball is finished." out of nowhere both of them got some kind of wands in their hands, moving it around in the air before both of them started to do their magic.

"If you're going to a ball you'll need a carriage." the dark haired guy said and you saw a pumpkin floating in the air, getting in front of you and slowly becoming bigger, slightly changing its color and shape.

"We need horses too." the other man said and some mices were turned into horses.

"And a coachman." they looked like they were having fun while you were still very much miserable.

"What about the dress?"

"Something blue?" with a hand movement, your clothes were changed into a big ball gown dress. "And look, glass slippers."

"That will be uncomfortable." the dark haired guy said, getting ready to change your shoes into something more comfortable.

"No, no. They're very much comfortable. Try to walk around." the other guy said, making you walk back and forth and give him a review of how your shoes were.

"It's good. My feet doesn't hurt." you said and try to jump around to show that everything was alright.

"Okay then. Get inside." both of them pushed you inside the carriage.

"You have until midnight to come back."

"The spell breaks when the clock shows 12. Remember that."

"Now go, and don't come back until you had all the fun you needed." they both disappeared into thin air. Leaving you alone in a carriage on the way to a ball you didn't want to go to.

You could jump out the carriage and go back home. But if you're being honest, you want to have a last good memory before you leave your good for nothing status and name and live freely.

A ball didn't sounded that bad. There would be music, food, and a lot of people so you won't have to worry about standing out. There's peacocks out there who are trying too hard to make themselves distinguished, so, you're good.

The castle was a lot bigger up close. You could see it every day from your window in the morning. It already looked big, but now? Damn, you're scared you'll stand out because you have no idea how to act like a noble.

You took a deep breath before getting out of the carriage. Grabbing a bit of your dress in your hands, to help you walk up the stairs.

With small steps, you took your time, looking around at the beautiful paintings and the way the whole place looked like it was covered in gold.

There were guards everywhere. It was a bit scary, if you think about it, but you chose to ignore it.

"Excuse me." you went to someone who looked like they worked there. "Do you know where the ballroom is at?" you asked, being lost in that foreign place.

"This way, miss." the man said in a professional voice, showing you the way to the place where you'll spend the next few hours before you disappear for good.

You went inside the room, being welcomed with a lot of people who didn't looked twice in your direction.

The ballroom was filled with music, but no one was dancing. Rather than that, they were talking between themselves.

Rich people, what do you know.

Most of them were dressed in a similar way to you, but there were some who went over the top. And now that you're thinking about it, your step sisters were doing too much. They probably stand out like crazy, and you couldn't help but giggle.

You decided to go and look around. What's a party without food and drinks?

Making your way between people who didn't wanted to move and inch, you found a table with some desserts on it. They look so tasty, and the taste was even more incredible. Can you steal a few for your journey? Or can you pretend to be a worker there and sneak into the kitchen?

Happy with your discovery, you took a plate of some cake and went to sit somewhere where no one will disturb you.

A small couch that was surrounded by little to no people. And you couldn't ask for more.

You sat on it, enjoying the sweet in your hands, the peace and the fact that no one was giving you any attention.

But the thing is, that if you payed some attention you would have saw why no one dared to stay there. It was the closest couch to the king.

It was in the right side of the throne, just a few feet away from it.

How could you be so blind? How could you not notice that brute of a man. Standing so tall that you could see him from a few crowds away, four arms, not two like the rest of the people in that ballroom. Pink hair that looked like candy, and yet it didn't made him look any softer.

Unlike you, he noticed the person who sat on the couch right away.

His eyes widened, mouth slightly opened as he kept looking at you again and again. Blinking, rubbing his eyes and then blinking again.

"You see that person?" the king asked the closest person next to him, to confirm he wasn't seeing things.

"The lady in the blue dress?" that was all he needed to hear to know he was in fact not hallucinating.

He got up, ignoring who ever dared to come his way and walk to you, stopping right in front of you who still haven't acknowledged his existence.

You raised your head when you finally noticed him, mouth full of delicious cake. You had the same big round eyes he remembers. You gulped, swallowing the sweet down your throat. He haven't said a word since he stopped in front of you, still being in his own world, still not believing that you came to him yourself. He didn't had to look for a replacement anymore.

"Can I help you?" your voice was like magic to him. It could make him melt if you said the right words.

He laughed, a big smirk on his face. But that only made you confused.

You looked left and then right, looking for a clue on what's going on. Perhaps he wanted to sit down and this was the only available space. You knew that nobles have some complicated etiquettes they follow, so maybe he's waiting for you to do something?

Ah, you finally get it. You got up, bowing politely to let him know that was your goodbye. But when you wanted to turn around, you suddenly woke up in the air, and a pair of arms wrapped around you.

"Wha-" panicked, you grabbed onto him. But now that you look at the situation, he was the one who got you in his arms, carrying you out of there. "What are you doing?" this couldn't be normal.

"Don't act like you don't remember me now." his words made sense to you, somehow.

He looked familiar, but you couldn't figure out from where. You don't know his name, this was the first time you saw his face, but that voice sounded so familiar. And his body, it also looked like you saw it before.

He walked around the castle like he owned it. Opening door after door, and getting deeper inside it, and far away from the ballroom.

"Who are you?" he was no ordinary person, you could see that. He walked freely without a single person saying a thing.

He made the guards look like decorations, and they didn't dared to say a thing to him. The palace workers bowed before him, and even the nobles were trying to please him.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked when you figured the answer to the first question.

He still didn't said a word and open one last door.

This room was deep inside the palace, you'd get lost if you try to run from there on your own. But perhaps that was what he wanted from the start. To lock you somewhere you won't be able to run from even if you try to escape.

That place had a big bed in the middle of the room, a couch that was facing the fire place, a big bookcase filled from top to bottom and some really big windows. From what you can see out the windows, and the fact you just walked up a lot of stairs, you were really high up. You won't be able to survive without breaking a few bones if you try to jump.

He really thought of everything, huh?

Walking to the bed, he placed you on it. Turning around and walking towards the door. He didn't thought of finding you this soon, so he had no idea what to do.

"Can I.." you bite your lips before speaking, too afraid that you know the answer too well. "Can I still go home?" he paused when he got in front of the door, but didn't said a thing. "The guys that helped me get here told me to get back before midnight." he almost broke the door when he heard those words. The what? The guys? They did what? "This is actually a spell. I don't actually look like this." he turned around and marched to the bed.

There was something scary in his eyes. But you couldn't help but look at him.

Did you tricked him? Was someone plotting against him and send a doppelganger to play with him?

"Who sent you?"

"I have no idea." you looked away. He won't believe you even if you tell him.

"Tell me." his cold eyes could petrify anyone.

"You don't trust me." you shook your head, trying to brush this off.

"I do. Now tell me." he looked like he could kill you right there, and no one would say a thing about it. You won't be missed, you won't be mourned. You don't even have someone to think about even in your last moments of living.

"Can I leave or not?" your voice just as cold as his, and for a moment he could feel his blood boil. You talked to other men, they send you there to the palace to make a clown out of him and now you dared to act like it was his fault for locking you in a place where he knows you won't run from.

"No." you sighed at his response. Disappointed in yourself for even trying, for listening to some strange men and for not running away when you had the perfect chance to.

"At midnight I turn back to my usual self. I'm not like this, I don't dress this way. You won't like me anymore after that." he was looking for a replacement from the start. This ball was held to find a doll that resembled you. And he found it. You can turn into a hideous monster and he'll find a way to turn you back into this form.

"And you think that I care?"

You looked confused. You had no idea what was going on in his head. What made him act like this and why.

Did you looked like an ex lover? Or someone who passed away? Because if that's the case, then he won't find what he's looking for in you.

"I won't submit to you." you tried to make it clear. "I'm my own person. I can't act like someone else."

He takes your words as a challenge.

He'll transform you into the perfect puppet. You'll match his expectations and taste in all aspects. You'll love him with all your heart and wait for him to return to you at the end of the day. All you need is a little training. And by how things looks, you'll need an intense one.

"You think you can defy me, brat?" he was mocking you. His voice was so annoying.

His face, his body, his status, everything was getting on your nerves now.

"I'm going home." you said. It wasn't a question or request, you were letting him know.

"Try." the shock look on your face was priceless. You looked offended by his words and he couldn't ask for more. He lied, he will get more out of you. Words, expression, feelings, he wants to see everything.

You tried to get up the bed, ignoring the fact that he was right in front of you. He didn't stopped you, he just looked at your dumbfounded expression when your actions weren't stopped by him.

He laughed, his voice filling the whole room.

You looked like you were going to cry, and he couldn't help but want to bite you. Sink his teeth deep into your flesh and leave marks all over your body.

For a moment, you stopped in place, not daring to get close to the door anymore.

Where have you felt that feeling before? The feeling of being watched by a ferocious predator.

You slowly turn around, to look at him who was sitting on the floor, his back against the bed. You recognize those red eyes now. It's the same as back then, when you almost successfully ran from home but you were met with that freak who made you turn around.

The realization look you had on your face made his eyes darker.

You had to get out of there, now.

You were if full panic mode, slowly walking backwards to the door, putting your hands on the handle and open it. Not a single second wasted as you ran down that hallway, dress in your arms and trying to get as far away from him as possible.

You stopped just for a moment to look back when you got to some stairs. He was nowhere to be seen, and you didn't know if you actually lost him or he was playing with you.

Whatever, you can think about that after you run from there.

The midnight clock could be heard in the background, but you weren't preoccupied by it. In fact, you couldn't even hear it, too focused on running down that mountain of stairs.

One of your shoes slipped off your foot. You turned around to look at it, and then you saw him, at the end of the stairs and looking down at you.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you almost stopped working for a moment.

Leave it there, a shoe didn't matter when you had far more things to worry about.

You soon got to a hallway, a big open door a few meters away of you, and you couldn't help but run even faster. But the closer you got, the more the door close. And by the time you got to it, it was completely shut.

"No, please!" you banged on the door. "Let me through." no answer.

You tried to open it, pulling it as hard as you can, but nothing. Going back wasn't an answer, and there weren't any other rooms that you could hide in.

There was only one option left. So many windows on your right, it was easy to open one and try to escape. And so you did, you opened a window and looked down for a moment. A broken neck doesn't sounds that bad, if you're thinking about it.

You took a deep breath, with a hand lifting as much of your dress in your arms, and with the other holding onto the window, ready to jump on it and see what the outcome of this event will be.

With no hesitation, you placed your knee on the window frame, trying to balance yours with your other foot and get on top of the window. But then you felt those big muscular arms wrapped around you once again.

"I didn't thought you had the balls to do it." his mouth was right into your ear, his voice leaving chills all over your body. "I might lock you in the basement if you continue to be a bad girl." he can do it, who's stopping him. You won't give up without a good fight.

"So? What do you want from me?" with this he knew you were the person he was looking for. Daring to disappear again just like back at the inn. You loved getting on his nerves, didn't you?

"We have unfinished business." what was he talking about?

"I didn't do anything." and that's the problem. The fact that you left him when he needed you. How dare you.

"Look at the time." he said when he was walking back on the stairs, holding you in his arms. With two holding your body and the other two wrapped around you, in case you planned on doing something crazy again.

"I told you, this is all a spell." and he can't wait for it to go away.

He stopped in place, and you had no idea what he was going to do. "Your shoe." he said, looking at the glass slipper.

"That would disappear too." but that didn't stopped him from moving one of his hands from you and picking up the glass slipper.

He continued walking back to that cursed room, throwing you in bed.

"Let's wait for the spell to break." he sat on a chair next to the door, waiting for your next move. Will your run to the door and try to escape again? Will you jump on him and try to harm him or will you try to jump out the window? He couldn't help but feel exited for your next move.

The disappointed look on his face when you just stood there. Looking down at the floor and from time to time at him with a ugly look in your eyes. You hated him? But that's a strong feeling, wasn't it?

And your words were true. You started glowing, and soon your appearance slightly changed. Your clothes were back to your old rags, your make up gone and your hair freely on your back.

He waited, excited. He couldn't help but wet his lips with his tongue, gulping and pressing his palms against each other. You better transform or he'll do it for you.

He expected more. He thought he'll see something unseen before. A monster, or you at your worst. You got him overthinking that your previous appearance was all a lie, but now you got him to want to bully you for lying to him.

He got up, getting closer to the bed. He stood there before you, expressionless, before he pushed you in bed, making you fall on your back.

"I didn't know you were a liar."

"What do you mean? The spell broke."

"You look exactly the same." he was on top of you, caging you between him and the bed. "You look even better than before." he was strange, truly.

"I still want to go home." you'll try as much as you can. There must be something that will work on this guy.

"I don't want you to."

"And who are you to decide for me?" he didn't respond to your question, choosing to ignore it like most of your questions. Instead, he smashed his lips against yours, his craving for your touch far too loud to ignore it.

And then it hits you. If you distract him, and act all sweet, you might actually be able to fool him and run away.

So, your hands wrapped around his neck, dragging him closer to you. He looked shocked, and for a moment he just stood there.

"What?" you spit those words at him, annoyed. Even if you cooperate with him, your words can't help but show your true colors.

"Take your clothes off." you gasped.

"I'm not doing this before marriage." you said, not wanting to do more than kissing.

"Consider the ball tonight the wedding ceremony." you looked at him in disbelief. "I'll take them off if you don't want to." even worse.

"I never did this before." you said. Maybe he'll have a heart and try to understand your situation.

"It's definitely going to hurt." no encouragement words? What a dickhead.

"I'll do it myself, no need for you to do a thing." you got up the bed, your hands traveling here and there, taking your time while undressing.

He stood at the edge of the bed, watching your every move. You can run if you want, the door is open, and it would stay that way until he leaves that room. So, you can try as much as you want, it's entertaining watching you fail.

But you didn't run, instead, you did as he said. Taking your clothes off with shaking hands and biting off any bad words you wanted to say out loud.

"Come and help me too." he could only laugh at your expression. But you got closer to the bed, no protests. He better sleep with his eyes open tonight.

He placed his much bigger hand on top of yours, dragging it on him.

You had no idea what to do. You kept looking at his body, at his arms, at his big chest, his shoulders. "Try and undress me, not just with your eyes." he was too much.

You slowly took whatever you could off him, and he just looked at you the whole time.

Now, when both of you were naked, you just stood there in front of him. You couldn't help but stare. He had two cocks, not one but two. I mean, he haves two of everything, but you didn't expect for him to have two dicks as well.

"Close your mouth and stop staring." he laughed at your dumbfounded expression.

"I don't know what to do." he tapped the placed next to him with his palm.

"Lay down here." you layed down on the bed, waiting for what he planned on doing. "You have to open your legs more." isn't he asking for too much already? One of his hands traveled in between your legs. "Look at me." you was expecting everything but to feel something licking your clit. You gasped, and looked at his hand. It was just a hand but it didn't felt that way at all. He laughed again. "I told you to look at me. Don't think of things you can't understand." but you don't get it. You could feel a tongue, traveling between your folds, going up and down, playing with your pearl.

"What's that?" you asked out of breath, forgetting how to even breath for a moment.

"This?" he showed you his palm, which was having a mouth on it. Since when was it there? His hand went back between your legs, playing with your clit again, one of his other hands joining in, as you felt something at your entrance. "Keep your eyes on mine or I'll give you something to occupy yourself with." you had no idea what he was planning to do. With a quick move, he stood up, his dicks against your face. "You know what to do." you looked up at him, at his dumb grin and then at his friends that were right in your face. "Open your mouth." one of his thumbs was on your lips, pressed against it to make you open it and suck on it. He then moved his hand and took one of his cocks, giving it to you to do your thing.

You weren't trained to please him, but even so, he had some expectations from you.

You could do it. If others could, so can you. But look at you, who can't even take half of his fat cock into your mouth.

"Do good and I'll reward you." he said and added another finger inside your wet pussy. "See?" he said and curled his fingers. "Now get to work."

With your head pressed against his thigh, you wrapped a hand around one of his cocks, while trying to take the other in your mouth.

He let out a loud groan, making you unsure if you should continue or stop.

A promise is a promise, and he's true to his words. Since you're trying so hard to please him, he should return the favor. He kept curling his fingers, going in and out of you as his mouth kept playing with your pretty clit. He was touching all the good places, he knew that, and he didn't stopped a bit. Now determined to discover even more places and touch better than before.

Your walls started to clench around him, squeezing him so tight and making him wander how that will feel around his cock.

"You wanna cum? You better keep working then." his words made you try even harder, too desperate of that foreign feeling inside of you.

He kept moving his hands, and you kept trying to figure out what to do to him. But oh, you were so close that you couldn't think straight anymore. And it happened in a flash, your mind going blank and trembling under his touch as you came.

He kept his hands moving for a little longer before stopping, when you finally came to your senses.

"Now focus on me." his hands went away from you, now gripping your hair and pushing your head down his length. You tapped his thigh, too afraid you won't be able to breathe anymore. He moved your head, sometimes he moved his own hips, and soon, he was going to cum too. "Don't let spill anything. Swallow." he said before cumming down your throat.

This was more than enough. You didn't had the strength to go further than this.

Intimacy can be too tiring. And he looked like he enjoys sucking the energy out of you.

"We're not done yet." not yet? What more does he wants from you?

He got on top of you, positioning between your legs. Two of his arms places next to you, while one held your hips. With his only free hand left, he held one of his cocks at your entrance, rubbing his head against your pussy. Getting his head inside your cunt, then drag it out to rub it between your folds, rubbing it against your clit. Then back at your warm entrance again, slowly getting his head inside, just to get out and then again.

He was playing with you. He was enjoying seeing you mad.

But this time, when he got his tip inside of you, he kept pushing, going deeper and deeper. And he didn't stopped until he got inside all the way in.

Warm, wet and hugging him just right. He loved it. He could stay inside of you forever.

His face got closer to yours, looking at you and at the way you were struggling to fit him in. But he been so attentive to you, and you can't even fit him in.

Slowly, he moved his hips, in and out at a calm pace. It gave you all the time you needed understand how you managed to fit him in. And it also gave him time to understand how painfully slow this was.

His revenge was going to wait a lot before he fucks you properly.

He wanted to rearrange your inside for the way you left him, but now he had no option but to wait.

He's going crazy. He's dying in your arms and you're not doing anything. You're not talking to him, you're not looking at him.

He grabbed your cheeks, pushing them together and making your lips come forward.

"What?" you tried to say.

He kissed you, making you wrap your arms around him as he kept moving his hips.

This was better, when you held him in your arms was so much better. It made this fire inside of him calm down and let him realize the situation he's in.

One of his hands went between your bodies, softly rubbing your clit as he kept moving, making your bodies slightly rock together.

His tongue inside your mouth, his movement was so sloppy, not having a proper rhythms but keep increasing the force he kept slamming into you with.

The first orgams pulled out of you with force, him not giving you a moment to breath and keep going for it until he filled your warm walls with his hot cum.

But when you thought it was over, it never was.

He got out of you, giving you a break for a moment before you felt him back between your legs, this time a lot more bigger. He had both of his dicks in his hand, now trying to push them inside of your pussy to fill you up.

"It won't fit." you said, trying to stop him from this madness.

"Take a deep breath." he said before finally managing to get inside.

He was going to kill you, because this was too much. The way he split you open, being stretched out like never before. And he kept moving his hips too, like the fact that you still haven't accommodate to this strange feeling meant nothing to him.

It hurted, but at the same time, the way he kept you open felt good. And you hate to admit it but you might cum just from this alone.

His hips kept moving, and this weird feeling started to feel so much better. It went to the point where you started crying, too much for you to handle.

"Shh. You can take it." he said, a hand moving some hair away from your face.

He liked those hot tears that were falling from your eyes. It made him wander why he didn't try to make you cry a lot earlier.

Can you even come again? He can't help but wander. Guess he haves to find that out himself.

Pounding into you, keeping you wrapped in his arms and not giving you a break. He managed to make you cum again, now focused on the way your squeezing him again. And just like last time, he painted your insides white, this time getting you fuller than last time.

But it's not over, because he haves to try this again, but from another position.

You didn't managed to last too long and fell asleep in his arms, the next day waking all alone in there.

You wasted no time in putting your clothes back on and running out that room, down the stairs and back into that hallway. Being welcomed with a close door that was blocking your way out. Now having no choice but go back to that room and wait for him to arrive back. Who knows what he's planning to do this time.

Author'a note: I was planning on making Gojo and Geto the step brothers but then it would have because their fan fic. I might write something similar to this but for them. Dunno tho, I'm too lazy to do it.

[lipglossanon]

Red Flags and Long Nights

Real Dad!Leon S. Kennedy x daughter fem!reader (one shot)

hello hello 👋 this is the fic written for the milestone celebration poll winner (real dad taking accidental viagra); big big thanks to all of you who have gotten me here!! 💜 💜 I’m so thankful everyday that you guys choose to read/like/share/interact with my fics and just me in general! 🥰 so without further ado, I hope you enjoy this one shot!!!

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, INCEST, dead dove content, dad/daughter incest, groping, slight cnc, dirty talk, breast play, oral (m receiving), kissing, teasing, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread 😅 some of it was written while sleepy so hopefully it makes sense haha

title from Red Flags and Long Nights from She Wants Revenge

<<prequel: Oh By Gosh, By Golly>>

One day, your mom calls you up out of the blue wanting to talk about planning a family vacation this year. Somewhere with sandy beaches and clear blue water. Something over an extended weekend once everyone can take off work. She’s already talked it over with your dad and he’s agreeable as long as it doesn’t cost an arm and a leg. 

As she talks, you pull open your calendar and look over your work schedule. Once you find a date that works, she promises to text you the details of the Air B&B she plans to book. You bid her goodbye and hang up the phone, quietly excited about a beach trip even if it is with your parents. 

You keep busy as you slowly count down the days; long graduated from college but still struggling to find work in your major, you’ve had to settle for any job opportunity that will pay the bills. Luckily enough, you were hired to work at the local post office. It’s not a glamorous job by any means, but you do get federal holidays off and your boss is pretty lenient with you. It’s a cinch to put in your PTO for the extended weekend you plan to spend with your parents. 

The morning you drive down to the beach house is pleasant; it’s early enough you miss out on a bunch of traffic which helps you save enough time to splurge a little and grab some coffee. Following the GPS, you get to the beach house in the afternoon with plenty of sunshine left to enjoy. Your parent’s car is already parked outside so you don’t have to worry about figuring out how to unlock the joint.

You grab your small suitcase and make your way into the lovely three story home. As you walk up the gravel sidewalk, you take in how secluded the area truly is and how lucky your mom was in getting such a nice place. You’re pretty sure it cost out the ass, but hey who’re you to deny such generosity?

The door swings open before you touch the handle and your mom pulls you into a hug. 

“Oh honey, I’m so happy you could make it!”

Breathing in the perfume embedded into your brain from childhood, you give her a quick squeeze back before pulling away. 

“Me too,” you smile, “this place is amazing!”

She laughs and moves further into the house, looking back as you follow along behind after closing the door. 

“A friend of a friend owns this place so it was pretty easy to get. Even your father can’t throw one of his little hissy fits about the cost,” she rolls her eyes and you breathe out a laugh. 

“Where is he?” You look around but only see the open kitchen leading off into the dining room. 

“Down at the beach,” she points to the sliding glass doors on the other side of the living room, “I told him I wanted to stay up here for when you arrived.”

You nod and smile at her again, “Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m gonna go put my stuff up and change then we can head down ourselves.”

She nods, “There’s a handful of bedrooms on the second and third floor. Your dad and I are staying in the master down here so you have your choice of rooms.”

“Nice, be back in a sec,” grabbing your luggage, you climb the stairs to scout out where you want to sleep. 

You pick a cute room on the third floor; it has a little balcony with a couple of chairs that gives you a fantastic view for miles around. You toss your clothes into the dresser and quickly change into your swimsuit. Grabbing a towel and some sunscreen, you slide on your sandals and make your way back downstairs. Your mom, wearing a big floppy hat, is already standing outside the sliding doors. 

You chatter with each other, just catching up on your day to day, while you both make your way down the little path that leads out onto the beach. As soon as your sandals hit the sand, you see a huge beach umbrella. 

“Glad to know he won’t burn,” your mom laughs, toeing off her own sandals to walk barefoot over to your dad. 

Following her lead, you take off your sandals and carry them over to the blanket underneath the shade of the umbrella. 

“‘Bout time,” a groggy baritone meets your ears. 

“Shush, Leon, it didn’t kill you to nap on the beach now did it?”

Your dad just mumbles a reply to your mom before raising up. He squints over at you, eyes heavy lidded from sleep as you set your stuff down. 

“The drive okay?”

You laugh and finally look over at him, “It was fine.”

His blue eyes sharpen as they read your expression before darting down to give you a once over. Your nipples tighten against your will and his gaze seems to linger there for a split second before flicking back up to your face. Plastering on a fake smile, you sit down and grab your sunscreen. 

“Want some help with that?” Your dad nods to the little bottle in your hands. 

“S-sure.”

You kinda hope the ground splits open to swallow you whole, but instead you just move over to where your dad is sitting up on the blanket, hand outstretched to grab the sunscreen. 

“Well while you two do that, I’m going to go take a dip,” your mom beams at you, completely leaving you alone to wallow in this newfound awkwardness. 

Keeping your back to your dad, you feel his broad calloused palms drag the slick lotion all over your back and shoulders, deftly massaging it in. For the last few years, there’s been a line of tension between you and Leon. An accidental kiss under the mistletoe where you both used too much tongue to be appropriate (any tongue isn’t appropriate but you’re blaming the alcohol everyone had been drinking).  

Since then, you’ve both watched the other. Glances too heated to be innocent, brushing against each other unnecessarily… and now with his sun warmed hands rubbing across your back, your brain empties as your body buzzes with arousal.

It’s why it takes a second for you to realize that your dad has moved on to rubbing in the sunblock across your ribs and over your clavicle. His hands come up and cup your breasts, stiff nipples showing through the fabric. 

“Gotta make sure to get everywhere,” his breath gusts past your ear as his hands slip under your top and massages the fat of your breasts. 

“Ohh,” you whimper quietly, cunt pulsing warmly in time with your heartbeat.  

He squeezes and rubs across your soft skin, fingers plucking at your stiff peaks until you moan brokenly. 

“Dad,” your breathy exaltation has him pinching and twisting your nipples before groping your breasts roughly in his hands. 

“‘M almost done,” he licks the shell of your ear and your thighs twitch, “you’ve got such nice tits, princess. Don’t want’em to burn.”

You press your hand over your mouth to muffle the whine you let slip. With one last harsh pinch to your nipples, he lets go, scooting back away from you. 

“Should be good to go,” he grins at your dazed look, “don’t keep your mom waiting.”

Shaking your head, you blink rapidly and slowly climb to your feet. As you pass by Leon, his hand reaches up and smacks your ass hard. 

“Be a good girl, okay?”

��Y-yeah, dad.”

You pad out to the ocean, waving to your mom as she looks for seashells in the shallow water. Wading out far enough for water to hit your chest, you finally let yourself sigh out loud. 

“What in the fuck?!”

You rub wet hands over your face as you gaze out onto the horizon. Flirting is one thing, but getting felt up by your dad is definitely crossing the line. You shiver, clit still throbbing as you reach down to press your palm against your cunt. Even as messed up as it may make you, you wish he would’ve slipped his hand down and fingered your pussy. 

The sun glaring off the water makes you squint even as you enjoy the scenery, trying your best to squish all the other thoughts and feelings you’ve had in the past half hour down into a little box you can open later. It works for a time, until the squinting becomes too much and the glare is driving sharp little needles into your brain. 

Leaving the water, you make your way over to your mom as she scoops up more shells with a net. 

“I’m gonna head in, got a bit of a headache,” you wince as the sun bounces off her watch into your eyes. 

“Let me walk with you,” she frowns, “you’re looking a little washed out.”

You nod and follow her back up to the beach blanket, eyes skirting over where your dad’s lounging reading a book. 

“We’re headed up to the house, do you need anything?”

Your mom grabs her bag and your stuff as your dad sets his book down onto his lap. He looks at you then back to his wife. 

“No, once I finish this, I’ll be heading up, too.”

She hums and takes you by the arm, helping guide you back to the house since the pain beats a tempo behind your eyes and makes your vision a little blurry. Once in the house, she helps you upstairs to your room. In doing so, she makes sure to stop in at the bathroom on the bottom floor to point out the migraine medicine in the cabinet.

Entering your room, she sits you down on your bed. She tucks you in and makes sure to close the blinds before walking back into the hallway. Turning, she gives you a concerned look.

“I’m going to head into town. It’s about an hour's drive from here so I won’t be back til later. If you need anything, call, okay?”

You hum in reply already drifting to sleep in hopes you’ll feel better once you crash for a few hours. The nap helps and by the time you come to, your headache is completely gone. Waking up is a chore however; it takes you a minute to realize where you are, eyelids sticking together, gummy with sleep. 

Raising up on your elbows, you reach over to the side table and grab your phone. Eyebrows pinching together, you blink sluggishly until you can read the time. It’s only late afternoon even if it feels like you’ve slept through the night. Climbing out of bed, you change before leaving your room with a plan on grabbing some water from the kitchen. 

It’s noticeably quiet as you finally step out on the bottom floor. Your mom must still be gone since you don’t see her shoes by the front door. 

“Fuck.”

You hear the muttered curse from the half open bathroom door that you’re walking past heading to the kitchen. 

“Everything okay?” 

You slowly press the door all the way open and your dad fumbles with a towel before placing it over his lap as he sits heavily down on the edge of the tub. 

“I thought you were out with your mother,” he bites out, tone sharp.

“No,” you frown, leaning against the doorjamb, “I had a headache and took a nap. Are you alright?”

He blows out a breath and scrubs a hand over his face. 

“I’m fine. What time did she say she’d be back?”

You shrug, “Couple of hours I think. I don’t really remember.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Should I call—“

“No,” Leon nearly shouts, “no, don’t. It’s not a big deal.”

“Dad, I can help I just need to know what’s wrong,” you step closer into the bathroom. 

He laughs without any humor, “Sure.”

You go to ask him why when your eyes catch on the bottle sitting by the sink. It’s similar to the migraine medicine you saw in the medicine cabinet earlier, the one your mom pointed out if the nap didn’t get rid of your headache. Who knew your dad needed help getting it up?

“Did you..?”

You trail off, feeling awkward and nervous and disgustingly turned on to think your dad’s dick is hard underneath that flimsy towel. 

“Yes,” he sounds tired, “I thought it was the other medicine.”

“Ohh,” you bite your lip, brain completely in the gutter as your eyes drift down to his lap, “I mean, I can still help.”

It seems insane but your dad’s not stopping you as you shuffle closer to stand between his legs. His blue eyes stay steady on yours as you kneel in the floor, knees digging into the soft rug in front of the tub. Leon tugs his briefs down and his cock slaps against his stomach, precum drooling from the head. He’s so hard, the foreskin has drawn back from the tip showcasing how red and swollen his cock has gotten from the medication. 

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, eyes greedily taking him in.

“Fuck, don’t look at it like that,” he groans, hands gripping the tub so tight his knuckles blanch.

“You’re just really big,” you press the dough of your thighs together, trying to put a little pressure on your throbbing clit, “you’ve got the fattest cock I’ve ever seen, dad.”

You watch as precum blurts from the tip to drip all down his length while he moans low in his throat. 

“Christ, you’ve got a filthy mouth,” his pupils are blown as he gazes down at you, “since you like how big my dick is, sweetheart, why don’t you show me, hmm?”

Your tongue licks up all the precum leaking down his dick before softly suckling on the head.

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” he grunts, “suck that cock.”

Moaning, you bob your head down, tongue tracing the thick vein you can feel on the side as you sink down inch by inch. Your dad pulls out to trace your lips with his drippy tip, smearing precum across your mouth like sticky gloss. You moan and press a kiss to his dick, tongue lapping at the crown until he’s rocking back into your mouth. Humming low in your throat makes his cock kick in your mouth, precum coating your tongue.

“Damn, so good,” he groans, hand smoothing across your jaw, cradling it as he pulls his cock out, “never get head from your mom anymore. Feels so good.”

More slick wets your panties as you mewl, throat clicking as you swallow around his thick length. You hungrily suck his cock, tongue circling his head before dipping into the slit to taste more of his precum.

“Like sucking me off, sweetheart?” he tosses the fringe away from his eyes while he rocks his hips, pushing himself deeper into your throat with smooth strokes until you gag heavily. 

“Love that, choke on it a bit more and I’ll be spilling down your slutty throat.”

Thick strands of saliva bridge between your mouth and his dick like shimmery spiderwebs as he slips out. You moan when he ruts his cock across your tongue. Leon groans and reaches down to tap his cock against your lips before feeding it back to you. Whining, you suck him deeper into your mouth, licking across the head before messily bobbing your head further down his thick length.  

“I'm about t’cum, swallow it all up, princess,” he thrusts a few more times before pulling out until the tip is sitting fat and heavy on your tongue. 

Leon grunts and moans as hot thick spurts of cum fill your mouth. Swallowing quickly, you try to keep his cum from spilling out around your lips, but it ends up leaving a sticky mess to drip down your chin in thick strands. 

You watch as he groans, stomach flexing while you suckle on the head of his dick, making sure to not miss any of his hot jizz as his balls empty into your mouth. After giving the tip of his dick a kiss, you pull back and wipe the spend from your face with the bottom of your shirt. 

Your cunt feels soaked, panties sticking to your pussy lips as you shakily stand onto your feet.

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Your dad stands up beside you, cock still hard and leaking, making you whimper. Pulling his briefs back up, he leaves his shorts and shirt lying on the floor. He grabs you by the forearm and leads you out of the bathroom and all the way upstairs into your room.

“No surprises if your mom comes home early,” he informs you, pushing you further into your room followed by closing and locking your door. 

Heat radiates from your cunt, more slick dripping into the already soaked gusset of your panties. Leon shoves you back onto your bed before climbing on top of you, kissing you heatedly as he sinks down onto your body. You wrap your legs around his waist while you run your hands through his messy hair. You're so turned on you can’t think straight anymore. 

“Thatta girl,” he coos, pulling back to drop kisses across your neck, “can’t wait to feel your wet little pussy, baby.”

You whimper and pull him back up into another kiss. This time he licks into your mouth messily, spit dripping from the corners of your lips to slide down your jaw. You feel him grind his cock against you before pulling away. 

He sits back on his haunches and slips his briefs off, maneuvering until he can toss them into the floor. Next, he leans forward and grips the bands of your panties and shorts. You help him, shimmying to move your clothes down off of your legs. As he moves those into the floor, you slip your shirt off and let it too fall onto the pile of clothing. 

“God, love your tits,” he groans, shoving his face into your breasts, mouth licking and biting every inch of skin they come across. 

His mouth suctions around a nipple, tongue teasing the stiff bud as he tweaks the opposite one with his fingers. 

“Dad,” you moan, nails digging into his scalp.

“What?” He coos, “your dad can’t show his appreciation?”

A whine rasps from your throat and Leon laughs meanly before biting the swollen bud he was sucking. With a grunt, he moves across your sternum, leaving hot open mouthed kisses across your chest until he can suckle and tease the other nipple, fingers plucking and pinching at the now wet one. 

Your hips writhe, leaking cunt dragging against his stomach as his cock grinds against the cleft of your ass. 

“Gonna let daddy stuff your tight wet cunt?” He chuckles as your eyes flutter as he lathes your nipples with broad swipes of his tongue. 

“Yes,” you whisper, “wanna feel you split me open. You’re so big.”

Whining on the last word, you rock down, feeling his tip catch against your pussy lips and driving you crazy. 

He growls and sits back on his heels, taking his cock in hand to smack it against your clit. 

“So slutty,” his pupils swallow the blue of his eyes, “want daddy to stretch this little hole out? Show you how a real dick feels?”

Nodding along with his words, you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, teeth sinking into the plush skin.  

“Goddamn,” he mutters, spitting in his hand to slick his cock before pressing the head against your soaked heat. 

Using his thumb, he presses his cock down so the tip slides into your hole. Keeping it there, he rocks against your hips, sinking inch by inch into your pulsing cunt as his thumb keeps his cock steady. Pulling halfway out, he flexes his hips and thrusts forward faster than before. 

“Even your mom doesn’t let me go raw anymore,” he chuckles, bottoming out so fast you choke on air, “so this is a real treat, sweetheart.”

“Ohh god, dad,” you moan, voice high as he starts sliding his cock in and out of your pussy, rough thrusts that make your breasts bounce. 

You whine when he grinds against you, his pelvis rubbing over your swollen clit just right. His balls smack against your ass on every thrust, the loud plap plap plap of skin driving your arousal even higher. 

“Dad, fuck, s’too much,” you gasp out another whine, head feeling dizzy as your blood rushes, arousal making your pulse feel heavy in your throat. 

He groans and drops his weight down on you, bare skin sticking together from the sweat building between your bodies. Leon kisses across your neck, mouth grazing your skin with barely there nips that makes your pussy flutter around his cock. 

The thatch of hair at the base of Leon’s cock grazes your sensitive clit, sending little electric shocks of pleasure that brings tears to your eyes. You feel so good, you can’t stop the slutty noises from leaving your mouth. Rutting into your body, your dad’s fat cock grinds against the spongy spot along the front of your cunt. Slick gushes from your pussy as he hammers your g-spot so perfectly you can’t help but squeeze him tighter and tighter. 

“Princess,” he murmurs in your ear, “is this little pussy gonna cum? You’re so soft and wet— I can feel you tightening up around me. God so much tighter than your mom, can’t believe I’ve been missing out.”

His words push you over the edge. You babble out little chants of dad, dad, dad until a guttural moan spills from your throat, thighs jumping as your pussy clamps down on Leon’s dick like a vice.

Your low moaning twists into a scream as his hand sneaks down to rub and tease your clit. Instead of your orgasm tapering off, it ramps up, gaining speed until it hurtles you into cumming again. 

“Aww, she’s gripping me so tight,” Leon mocks sweetly in your ear, “yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.”

“Dad,” you whimper, tears clumping your eyelashes, “dad, please.”

A moan rumbles from his chest and he humps your cunt faster, cock never pulling completely out as he ruts inside your slick pussy walls. Half a dozen thrusts more and he’s growling down at you, pressing his cock balls deep into your cunt, thick cum spurting from the tip of his dick to stuff you full.  

“Oh so tight, baby,” he sighs, hips pressed against yours as he spills inside your snug little cunt, “your little pussy fits me like a glove.”

Shuddering, your walls milk another small load of cum from his heavy balls and he pants noisily against your clavicle. He presses up onto his forearms, hips swiveling to pull his cock halfway out before sinking it back inside, a mix of your creamy arousal and his spend making a ring around the base.

“Good, huh,” his laugh tinges on mocking, “don’t worry, ‘m not done with my daughter’s cute pussy, gonna keep you here for as long as it takes.”

After that, it’s all a pleasurable blur. You're unsure how many orgasms your dad has given you at this point, but you know he’s only had three and his cock is still so thick and hard. 

“Think this one will be it, princess,” he grunts, hoisting your limp thighs up, the bend of your knees slotting perfectly over the bend of his arms. 

You can only pant in reply, mouth as dry as cotton. He notches the head of his drooling dick at your entrance, dragging the tip up to smear the cum from his last creampie all over your used cunt. 

“One last load for your greedy little pussy,” he grins down at you, “then we can take a shower.”

He sinks his cock into your sore pussy at the same time he leans forward, pressing your sweaty bodies together. Your eyes roll back as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, thighs shaking against his arms. 

“So deep,” he groans, “best cunt I’ve ever fucked and to think it belongs to my sweet daughter.”

Your pussy spasms and clenches down on his thick length as you cry out. Brain melting pleasure seeps down your spine as he pulls out to grind across your g-spot before fucking back into your cunt roughly. 

“S’good, dad,” you mewl, mouth drooling as he hammers his cock into your sensitive hole, “so good.”

“I know,” he croons, “I feel good, too. Not g’nna be able to give up this sweet little pussy. She grips me too good, baby, I’m gonna want her all the time.”

Another orgasm slams into your body, pussy pulsing and sucking his cock into your hole as your head thrashes against the bed. Leon’s hands grip your wrists to push them down against the bed so you don’t scratch him. 

“Fuck, milking your dad’s cock like you’re made for it,” he groans, humping into your pussy with deep strokes until you’re crying from overstimulation. 

“Shh, shh, just take it a little more, ‘m about to cum,” he licks into your mouth, biting on your bottom lip before pulling back, “that’s it, take it, take your dad’s dick deep into that hot, greedy little pussy.”  

Hiccuping a sob, your cunt steadily milks his cock as he buries himself all the way, as deep into your pussy as possible. He grunts against your skin as he grinds his dick against your cervix, spilling rope after rope of cum to paint your walls white. The sticky heat makes your clit throb even as your body aches, wanting to succumb to exhaustion. 

The distant question of how your mom isn’t back yet buzzes at the corner of your consciousness. You must slur it out loud cause Leon laughs as he pulls his softening cock from your puffy leaking cunt. 

“She texted you to say she got stuck in a traffic jam and the road’s blocked for a few hours,” he sighs as he slaps his cock down onto your messy pussy, a wet splat that makes you wince. 

“Dad, ‘m sore,” you pout.

“So sorry, baby,” he coos, a grin overtaking his face, “want me to kiss it and make it better?”

Chest fluttering at the thought, you go to agree when your phone buzzes with an incoming call. Leon grabs it to silence it but turns to look at you. 

“It’s your mom,” he chuckles, handing it over to you, “better see what she wants.”

Sliding it open, her voice rings out clear in the quiet of your room. 

“Hey honey, your dad didn’t answer but I wanted to say I’m about five minutes from the house if you wanted to preheat the oven for this frozen pizza I picked up,” she laughs to herself, “well, it was frozen.”

Your dad sits down on the edge of the bed, listening in to the conversation. 

“Okay, sure, we’ll see ya when you get here,” Leon nods at you, “bye, mom.”

After she says goodbye, you put the phone back on the side table. 

“Well we should get cleaned up,” Leon helps you stand on weak legs, “I’ll help you to the tub and I’ll head downstairs.”

“Thanks, dad,” you smile up at him and he drops a kiss on your cheek. 

“Of course,” he leads you out into the hallway, helping you inside the little bathroom next to your room. 

He sits you down onto the toilet, turning on the shower to allow it time to heat up. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss on your temple, “I know it’s all kinds of fucked up, but I still love you.”

Heart beating double time, you give him a crooked smile, “I love you too, dad.”

He presses his lips together, looking like he wants to say more, but he blows out a harsh breath and walks back out into the hall. 

“I’ll handle the oven and your mom, you just come downstairs when you’re ready.”

“I will,” you say as he swings the door shut. 

Sitting there with your thoughts, you let yourself feel. Satisfaction filters through followed by a smidgen of guilt and shame. You hate that your mom is an innocent party in all of this, but you don’t regret letting your dad fuck your brains out. And since this is a complete one off, it’s just a little family secret that you’ll both be taking to the grave. 

Once steam wafts from the shower, you stand up and step into the warm water. You whimper as the heat works on your sore muscles. By this time tomorrow, this will all seem like some really deranged fantasy you dreamt up. Finishing up in the shower, you dry off and make your way back to your room. Getting dressed, you descend downstairs, the smell of pizza growing stronger. 

“Oh there you are! Feeling better?” 

Your mom comes around the counter to feel your forehead. 

“Yeah, I just slept it off.”

She ushers you to sit down at the table and brings the pizza over, your dad following behind with the drinks. Your mom sits to your right and your dad sits across from you both. He catches your eye and winks, making you look down at your plate out of shyness. 

“Eat up, I’m sure you’re wore out from the hard day,” his mirthful tone draws your gaze back up. 

“Yeah,” you clear your throat and take a drink, “it’s been a hard day alright.”

[l0stglitch]

Hi I hope you're doing well! Anyways, how do you think the four boys (Dwayne, David, Marko, Paul) would react if we just ran away, like went to our friends house and refused to come back to the cave? Also what punishments do they give, like after we ran away and in general? Also sorry if my grammer is bad English isn't my first language, anyways have a good day/night!

Running away headcannons

Platonic Yandere lost boys x reader

Notes- Hey I’m doing great thanks! Your English is very good- I couldn’t tell you weren’t a native speaker :)

Warnings- Choking, Yandere behaviour, Confinement, Psychological abuse, Dehumanisation

• I think it’s safe to say all four of your fathers would be absolutely LIVID if you ran away.

• They genuinely don’t understand why you would even think to do something so senseless. After all, it was them who saved you from your biological family when you first moved to Santa Carla.

• Not only that, but you had also stolen Dwayne’s bike (his being the obvious choice, as you spent the most time on it).

• They discovered your absence a few hours after you had snuck out, but couldn’t go after you due to the burning rays of the July sun.

• Meanwhile, you had found yourself at Bethany’s house. She knew enough about your parents to gladly let you stay as long as you need, despite your warnings about how dangerous they are.

• Coming back to the boys, I think their individual reactions would vary. Dwayne would be more worried than pissed off. The thought of his baby girl being out there alone without their protection fills him with this hopeless dread. He’s not even mad about the bike because he’s so scared that you’ve crashed somewhere and are lying under a mangled pile of metal, injured and alone.

• Marko is also terrified for you. As I’ve said before, he’s in denial about you growing up, so he won’t even entertain the idea that you might be able to look after yourself. He’s not used to being afraid. Out of everyone in the pack it’s generally agreed that Marko is the most sadistic and violent when it comes to preying on humans. He thrives off of scaring people (you included) so the fact that you are scaring him makes him angry.

• He finds himself pacing the cave, eyes shining a brilliant yellow and fangs on display as he pictures the moment they find you. David eventually has to tell him to knock it off or he’ll tire himself out before nightfall.

• Speaking of David, I think that out of everyone he’d be the least panicky. That’s not to say he isn’t worried about you, but he understands you better than the others do. He knows that it takes careful planning to pull off a stunt like this, and you aren’t stupid enough to get yourself caught up in anything too dangerous.

• This stems from the fact that David’s obsession with you doesn’t come from a deep rooted paternal desire like it does for the others. Sure, he loves you as his daughter and feels a strong sense of pride that they were the ones to mould you into who you are today, but it’s more complicated than that.

• The more you grow, the more he sees himself and the others within you, but beneath all that is someone else. A small fragment of a broken child waiting to spiral into something else. That’s what intrigues him. That hidden part of you locked behind years of painful love and comforting abuse.

• Paul’s reaction is a lot simpler than David’s. He feels guilty that their previous argument with you has led to you doing something so drastic. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he just doesn’t trust all the creepy men around that could hurt you.

• I don’t think he’d be on the verge of a complete meltdown like Dwayne and Marko, but he’d definitely be on edge, with a million different scenarios playing out through his head.

• Once the sun is finally down, it wouldn’t take them long to find you. You weren’t stupid enough to leave Dwayne’s bike right outside Bethany’s house, but it was still close enough for your fathers to track you down with relative ease.

• The only problem they faced was actually getting to you. Vampires have to be invited inside, and there was no way Bethany’s mother was going to let in a group of leather clad punks demanding to see their fifteen year old daughter.

• So naturally, they went to Max and begged asked him to politely introduce himself as your uncle and bring you home.

• Of course, with his charming nature Max had no problem getting invited into Bethany’s home.

• In all fairness, he didn’t lie. Sure, he had left out the part where Marko choked you until you were on the verge of passing out, but nothing he did say was untrue. It was more just a careful avoidance of certain details.

• You knew you were in deep shit when you came downstairs for dinner and saw your uncle sat at the table with a plate of lasagne of his own.

• It was an awkward dinner, well for you at least. Beth’s mum seemed pretty into Max, and he clearly loved the attention.

• Once the meal was over, Max announced that he would be taking you home, his tone stern- a subtle warning for you not to argue.

• So you didn’t argue. At least, not until you were out of Bethany’s house.

• As soon as her door clicked shut you bolted.

• It was a stupid idea really. Max’s car was parked right outside the driveway, so even if you did manage to get away from him, he’d easily be able to chase you down in the vehicle.

• It wasn’t Max who caught you though. In fact, he made little effort to chase you as you ran.

• That didn’t strike you as odd until the street you were sprinting down was suddenly lit by a harsh white light.

• For a moment you thought it was a car speeding towards you, but as your eyes adjusted it became clear that there were three beams of light, not two.

• Your fathers had been waiting round the corner for you and Max.

• You, being a stubborn teenager, didn’t stop running. You ignored the aggressive revving of their engines and legged it down the road.

• The gleaming headlights honed in on you, allowing no darkness to conceal your desperate escape.

• Their bikes almost seemed to leap forwards after you, as if they were an extension of your fathers, feeding from their obsessions.

• It only took a matter of seconds for them to catch up to you, even after you veered from the road and tried to make a break for the forest at the end of the street.

• They had you surrounded in an instant. David in front, Marko to your right and Dwayne and Paul sharing a bike to your left.

• Perhaps you would have found the sight amusing if it wasn’t for that look in their eyes.

• This must have been what it felt like to be a deer. Trapped under the gazes of four hungry wolves, with your only advantage being your primal fear of being dragged back to the cave- something that you knew would be your inevitable fate.

• Despite the futility of the situation, you still tried to break past them, spinning on your heel and dashing to the gap between Marko and David’s bikes.

• For a fleeting second you truly believed you had succeeded in getting past them, but then a hand snared in the neck of your top and yanked you back.

• The force of it pulled you to the ground, where you lay momentarily stunned, choking for air.

• David was quick the dismount his bike, crouching over where you lay on the sidewalk.

• There was nothing you could do except stare up at him, dazed as he pulled you to your feet and forced you onto the back of his bike.

• They didn’t speak to you on the ride back, only stopping once to pick up Dwayne’s discarded bike (after you’d been forced to hand over the keys).

• The only conversation was between Marko and Paul, who seemed almost giddy to return to the cave. You expected that from Marko, always the sadist, but Paul? That stung a little. You supposed he was just feeding off of his mate’s energy.

• David was clearly pissed off. You were surprised he hadn’t berated you yet, but it seemed as though he was waiting to get home for your punishment.

• As for Dwayne, you could tell he was deeply disappointed that you had even wanted to leave them, let alone actually do it.

• When it comes to punishments, David is usually in charge. He’s the leader of the pack and therefore creates the rules and enforces them the most out of everyone.

• The only exception being when Marko occasionally decides to make a new rule without telling any of the others so when you inevitably break it, he punishes you.

• There was a lot of debate between them about what the punishment for running away should be.

• Dwayne was more inclined to taking away certain privileges. No trips to the boardwalk, no choice in what you get to eat, no visiting Uncle Max and Thorn, etc.

• Marko would rather just break your legs. It solves the issue of you running away in the future and makes you completely dependent on them, solidifying how much you need your fathers to help you.

• In the end though, David gets the final call. He decided that if you don’t want to be around them then fine, but it won’t be in your terms.

• They left you chained up like a dog in a secluded part of the cave- far from where your fathers would be spending much of their time.

• You were left there for two months, only seeing David once a day when he brought you a bottle of water and a ham sandwich.

• Being treated like an animal slowly chips away at your sanity. David’s silent glare and the bland flavours of your basic meal are the only markers of the time spend in the darkness.

• The chain around your ankle feels heavier the longer you’re there. Your weight loss making you weaker by the day as you almost forget that Dwayne, Marko and Paul must be somewhere in the cave as well.

• You wondered if they thought about you as little as you thought about them.

• It felt like years before David finally brought a key along with your meagre meal.

• He watched silently as you ate your sandwich. You kept your gaze averted, staring at those cold leather boots as you chewed your way through the stale bread.

• “Not in the mood for talkin’ huh?”

• David twisted the keys around between his fingers. Your silence wasn’t much of a surprise to him, after all it had been a whole two months since you had spoken to him or your other fathers. He briefly wondered if you’d been talking to yourself to cope with the loneliness.

• How much damage could enough isolation do to a person?

• The chain unlocked with a small click, but you still made no effort to move.

• David sighed and cupped your cheek, guiding you to look at him. “You’re free now, punishment’s over. Cmon, the others have missed you.”

• You let him help you stand up- something you hadn’t done it a long time.

• David guided you back to the main area where Dwayne, Marko and Paul waited restlessly to see you again.

• Dwayne was the first to rush over to you, enveloping you in a big hug. You didn’t return it. It was hard to feel anything but the cold chill that still remained after those two long months.

• Your fathers were quick to wrap you in a thick blanket and curl up on the couch. Marko was practically spoon feeding you the bolognaise they had prepared earlier that day, but you hardly noticed.

• No one admitted it out loud, but it was clear that your isolation had scarred you a lot worse than a pair of broken legs from Marko would’ve.

• They were going to need to put in a lot of work to get you back.

Tag list- @bella-goths-wife @purple-lemon-8 @xjesterxjacksx @ursinaw @simplyreading96 @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic

(If anyone else wants to be added to the tag list then lmk!)

[velvetures]

Hello loves💕 I still can't get over your writing I'm obsessed!!

I would love to request Roommate König x fem reader. König hears you fucking some guy on the other side of the wall and he can tell you faked it so once the dude is gone he's got you over his shoulder and is walking you to his bedroom to fuck you right. I love the idea of her trying to get him to confess to her and trying anything after months or years of mutual pining, her last resort is to make him jealous.

Overheard

a/n: I'm so sorry for being so slow my love... I always have the worst self-confidence with nsfw reqs. I constantly write them, delete them, and start all over... (this is like... the 8th full-draft retry) So I hope you'll forgive me if this isn't up to standard. Also, I know this trope has been covered by some really talented writers and I hoped to do it justice, and not feel like a carbon copy of something better. (ps. This shit is too long... but I knew if I deleted anything, I'd delete the whole thing over again.)

tw's: 18+ ONLY, nameless hookup, alluded unprotected sex w/side character, unintentional orgasm denial, the reader is mentally not in the best place for sex (disconnected), voyeurism, jealously, fem-oral receiving, fem-fingering receiving, dirty talk, König being a bit of a loser, König omitting his lack of experience, aftercare.

His mom kept saying it was about time to settle down. That the biological clock, normally pushed on women, was ever-present and ticking against his favor. But his sweet, innocent, mother didn’t know the depth of his awkwardness. Not even the slightest idea that her well-mannered boy, turned praise-worthy Colonel was nothing but a bumbling fucking idiot when it came to speaking with women. In the field, sure. He could give orders, discuss tactics, and even bullshit with the best of the best… but if a woman was among those? Oh hell. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall with a randomly developed stuttering issue.

He didn’t understand where it came from either.

It wasn’t like his mother was one of the overbearing types that made dating impossible, and nor did he exactly have the worst time when he was younger with women being interested. It was just… after they showed interest, that became the struggle. Relaxing wasn’t possible. Not when he knew that a woman’s perception of him was far higher than that of any man. Believing that even the smallest of gestures and phrases could earn him an immediate dismissal, and his name or photo being sent in some group-chat to be berated after a first date. He didn’t blame any of the women though… he knew what he looked like. What he sounded like… and God, how miserable his personality was compared to what his career and position would lead others to assume.

A shred of truth could always be found in his mother’s warning though.

He’d gone years without any meaningful relationship where the softer, side of a woman could be found. He found bastardized ways of getting a taste, but he could only allocate so much money a month to porn sites and camgirls without feeling like a total sleaze. The Colonel felt much more confident mapping out a prospective warzone than the contours of a woman’s body, and fuck… it made him more than a little embarrassed to admit. Enough so, that when you mentioned that your rental agreement was coming to an end, and you were trying to find somewhere new to stay, he offered for you to just move in with him.

He owned. Which made the idea of ‘rent’ or you paying it almost unquestionably stupid. It made the deal a little sweeter -in his mind- for you to agree, and then he wouldn’t have to be quite so personally diligent on logging onto online portals to pay utilities. That is, if he could get you to move in. And while in his own mind and body, every synapse screamed that he was being unrealistic, you hadn’t caught on. He’d looked just as stoic and cold as ever when he propositioned that you just start moving over your things into his house. Save money… it’ll be easier for you; He’d said, hard eyes glancing over your face. You thought saying ‘yes’ was anxiety-inducing? König nearly passed out in his office after walking there on numb feet and weak knees.

In the week following, he brought you a small ring of keys, and you started moving your life into his, one cardboard box at a time. And every night after returning from his on-base duties, he would have to physically restrain himself from opening up the taped flaps and getting a peek at the unattended items sitting by the front door. At the time, he thought it was nothing more than unchecked curiosity and instinct to feel-out a new situation. Just simply wanting to learn more about you before you started sleeping over. Merely the soldier in him. But box, by box, that curiosity didn’t dampen down. Even when your items began making their way out of their containers and enmeshing with his around the house.

Tea cups in the kitchen cabinet next to his thicker, coffee mugs. Throw blankets rolled and stacked in the far corning of the couch he rarely sat on. A little rug you’d tossed down in the kitchen in front of the stove with a little floral print that he’d been utterly possessed to not get any stains on while cooking, or by taking off his boots before walking inside. And while never claiming to be a ‘minimalist’ man, he learned right away that his house was nothing short of a hotel when it came to personality.

You’d brought at least five full walls worth of decor. Little trinkets and cute things from all over the world you’d been sneaky enough to stuff into the pockets of your gear. And all of it, had initially been shoved into an empty linen closet he’d been perfect happy with you claiming as your own since it was ‘on your side of the house’. That was, until he found himself noticing that you’d put more than “storage” things away, and had silently refused to put them where they belonged.

On the damn walls.

“I don’t decorate well anyways..” It’d been his excuse… or at least something along those lines. Maybe a little bit more gruff. Guarded. Because even in his own home, he had the tendency of walking around like someone was going to sneak up behind him.

So one week, while he was away, you took the permission and ran with it. Buying the picture hanging kits, and everything else needed to begin covering the Colonel’s walls with your amassed collection of utterly unnecessary, but brain-scratching decorations, art, and collectable junk. Spending a good half hour walking around the halls and rooms with a little smile of accomplishment on your face seeing the colonel’s house feeling more like a home. Totally unaware that he’d been checking the security cameras dotted around, watching you scale a shitty stepladder, climb the kitchen cabinets, and struggle to lift the more heavy items. All the while, growing more and more intrigued with this new arrangement. Debating whether he liked it or not. Rapt attention making the instinctive suggestion that you’d make a good wife far less perverse than he should’ve felt it to be.

Missions took precedence though. And it kept both of you busy more than not. Fully living adjacent instead of in a more dependent role. But there were decidedly small decisions that needed to be made. Like who was in charge of buying groceries, and getting essentials that you both used. König ended up just leaving cash on the counter once a week so you could take care of his end for him. Saving the trouble of a second loaf of bread being bought, or doubling up on paper towels after a miscommunication lead to fifty rolls of the shit needing to be stored somewhere. You did the job more than credibly, and it got you out of the house too.

Which was good, because you rarely left.

Not unlike him, you preferred your time spent in calm situations. Either reading reports, answering emails, and other related tasks before just closing that tab on your laptop and opening up an new one to watch a show or scroll on your phone. You appeared to thrive in his house when you could curl up like some little bird in a nest and just rest. Developing almost permanently sleepy eyes when you came through the door, and a softer tone of voice that took some getting used to. König didn’t exactly understand it. Why your demeanor changed so much within the house, and how it got substantially much more noticeable when your schedules aligned for both of you to be there at the same time.

A solid seven months or more passed before he got his answer. And from your late-night scrolling nonetheless.

Some woman, blabbering on about her husband, and all of the ways that he effected her life once she moved in with him. And, honestly, König wasn’t listening all that much. Having just begun sitting on the other end of the couch with you, since it was where you spent your evenings after dinner. And, it’d become a little bit of a new experience. Just being halfway close to you. Interacting, but not. A safe way to enjoy your presence without any expectations. But that woman on your phone caught his attention when she made the joke about being tired all the time. Tired. Sleepy. All the fucking time. He had to stare down at the TV to keep his head from snapping in your direction.

Apparently it was chemical. Some little thing in the back of a woman’s mind that men didn’t have the complexity to experience the same way. That this woman -and you- were so mentally focused for such a long time, that when the right person was around you, and created a safe space, it acted like a the strongest sleeping pill in existence. Flooding you with dopamine and melatonin to the point that your pretty face got even sweeter with those deep, sleepy looks and constant yawns at all times of the day. Getting a glimpse of you tapping the screen twice, and then tapping at your keyboard to leave a comment only reinforced his inquisitiveness. From the moving boxes, to watching you on cameras while away… and now realizing that you acted so sweet and docile around the house because of him..? He didn’t know how to control himself, and still find a way to keep figuring you out.

Wanting more…

Needing a chance to find out if things could go further than just living in his house.

Dating wasn’t a walk in the park for you either. Call it a hazard of military work. Computers and filing paperwork was more your speed than the guns and blood that König was accustomed to, but it still limited the amount of men who were interested. Especially in the long-term.

It really came down to the uniform and lack of free time that could be allotted to the guys that you did have the fortune to meet. They wanted to take you on dates, and your superiors preferred you stay late to take minutes for a meeting. They always suggested you take a vacation, since it was clear just how tired you were on a daily basis. But vacations were practically a laughable dream you knew wouldn’t come to fruition until you finally were sent the retirement packet everyone in the service dreamed of. But.. on the rare occasion, you did have the energy to entertain a man for a night. Just. One. Night.

Thankfully König was out.

Such good timing considering you’d spent nearly a week, taking your sweet time to wring orgasms out of yourself just for the sheer frustration of getting them, and still not feeling satisfied. Instinctively missing the warmth of skin on skin and the dynamic of having someone else provide and take pleasure from you. Even getting on the app had felt more like a shopping trip than a chance to go on a date. Looking through photos and bios with nothing more on your mind than someone big enough, and pretty enough to make the ordeal worth it. The guy who answered back to your painfully blatant request for a good fuck, didn’t ask any questions either. Just asked politely asked if you wanted to go to him, or vice versa and gave you ample time to get yourself ready before the knock on the front door.

Your mental ruined any chance of having a good time though.

The poor guy sucking at your neck and grunting soft praises was nice… but you couldn’t get into it. Feeling tense. Going through the motions. Foreplay becoming an act of forced moans to reassure the guy genuinely trying to make you feel good, and unable to even make eye contact for a slightly guilty feeling that pervaded your thoughts. Hell, you even refused to have missionary, just to make sure that your facial expressions didn’t have to constantly match the fake whimpers and whines.

John… Joe… Jacob… whatever his name was, he was honestly a sweet guy. Giving your clit attention, no just shoving his cock in you without prep, and actively checking in without making it overbearing. On another day, you’d have really been trying harder to impress him. Give the impression that you were interested in him for more than the sex you couldn’t surrender to. Hope that he liked you enough to stick around. But deep down, you thought better of it. Withholding your feelings to ensure that when he left you alone for the night, that you wouldn’t hate yourself.

König, on the other hand, came home a bit earlier than expected. Walking in the door quietly to expect a silent house, and you sleeping in your bed or on the couch after waiting up for him. Only to be stunned with wet, skin slapping and familiar, pathetic, whimpers getting overrun by deep grunts and low, almost whispered sounds from a man.

God… you were getting fucked.

His whole chest tightened in embarrassment and his face felt hot. You’d never been quite this comfortable… at least to his knowledge. Plenty of nights he had overheard the faint sounds of you getting off alone… soft little moans and gentle hums of a vibrator filtering down the hallway to him. But he’d never heard anything quite that… loud. Even when you fucked yourself on a dildo -he’d always been too curious not to listen intently- the slick sounds of your cunt always made louder noise than your voice. As mortified as he was hearing it… part of him knew something was wrong. Like his whole body was stiff, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. Faking it… for some unknown reason.

Why couldn’t you say something? Surely you could ask him to… to do something different right? To let you use a toy? Or… or touch your clit? Whatever it took to help you enjoy yourself. But those pinched, almost broken moans starting grating on him within seconds. Stalking towards your bedroom door quietly, and leaning against the wall. Eyes closed and his breath getting heavier with each imagined scene in his head that developed. Picturing him doing all the wrong things… Touching you… tasting you… and living out his own pleasure without the slightest idea that every sound out of your mouth was a fucking lie.

König’s jaw clenched. Resisting a sudden desire to bang on the door or make some other loud noise that would bring this all to an end. Even his fist clenched at his side flinched towards the bedroom door, as if he was insane enough to actually bust in.

What would he even do?

The question rang out a bit too harshly in his mind.

He didn’t have the first idea how to… do better. To make you feel good, or any woman really. Plenty of jealousy rose in his throat at the thought of that bastard fucking you, but he hadn’t even touched a pussy in years. And the last time he did it, he was, pathetically inexperienced. Using his huge fingers to try and prep his partner, but not hitting any of the right spots. Accidentally taking a clinical approach, and it left him feeling like a damn gynecologist instead of a good fuck.

He couldn’t please you, no matter how much he wanted to…

The sobering thought forced him to back away from your bedroom door. But pride alone forced him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of scotch in his hand. The last -and unavoidable- line of defense before the front door. No doubt in his mind that if nothing else, he’d get a good look at the man you’d brought home for a disappointing night of sex. Wanting to at least humiliate the bastard for a few seconds. Because while he knew himself to not be an acceptable partner, the guy currently riding out his high in your bedroom wasn’t going to know it. And seeing him -in his daily fatigues- and his hood, would give any man a moment of pause.

You felt sticky. Hot. And more than a little achy in all the wrong ways as Jeff… Josh… whoever the fuck he was, removed himself form your bed and began pulling on his jeans. Watching cautiously as he excused himself into your bathroom -sweetly- offering you a wet washcloth and a too-shy smile for a man who’d just come all over your stomach.

You didn’t bother putting on pants to walk him out to the front door. Too disappointed and stuck in your own head to see König standing in the corner of the kitchen. His dark eyes glaring daggers at your… ‘guest’ who was much more observant, and stood stock still. Shirt in his hands, and forced to raise his gaze more than normal to get the best look at the terrifying man looming in the shadows. It took you far longer than it should’ve. To trace Jonah… Josiah’s… gaze, and recognize your roommate. And even longer to remember that you weren’t wearing pants.

“Hey man…”

You had to give what’s-his-name credit for being as casual as he sounded. Because in all honesty, you were just as taken aback. Shuffling to stand behind the guy just enough that your bare pussy and ass weren’t totally out for him to see.

“Evening…” König sounded… bored? Not his normal tone. “Heading out already?” The guy you were using as a shield, just nodded his head. Looking a bit apologetic, but still anxious.

“Yeah, man…” He pulled his head over his shirt, patting his pockets for the jingle of car keys before glancing back at you with an truly apologetic smile, and a clear unpreparedness for the situation. “I… uh…. thanks for… letting me come over…”

You can’t manage more than a nod. No smile, no reassuring touch to him… nothing. Just a silent acknowledgment and the subsequent scamper over to the couch to grab a blanket to cover yourself up.

Shit… König fucking waved bye…

He didn’t expect you to come out. Nor to get his first-ever look at your pussy. And god it’d taken a lot of restraint not to just stare at you and memorize what he could get get a look at. You just looked soft. So fucking small and soft… A slight sheen of sweat on your face and the roots of your hair damp from the erotic affair.

Too bad it was all an act.

“Thanks for letting him come, huh?” He can’t resist… the guy just hadn’t been cautious enough to not fuel the fire of jealously in him.

Seeing you wrap that blanket around you tighter, avoiding all eye contact, and even turning your side to him a bit… it makes him smile under his hood. An amused one. A sickeningly happy sort of feeling rising in his gut where you appear vulnerable under his gaze. You’re already much more expressive just talking to him than you’d sounded with that bastards cock inside you.

“Didn’t think you’d be back for a while…” Your valid excuse falls a bit flat, especially when those dark brown eyes scan your entire body. He lifts his tumbler of scotch under his hood, nodding before taking a long drink. Feeling a secondary burn that soothes the heat building everywhere else in him.

“I can see that…” He chuckles lowly. To him, it sounds unsure… and maybe tinged with anger, jealously. But on your face, he’s clear that you don’t recognize it. Far too embarrassed to see that there’s just as much uncertainty flooding him as well. “Could hear it too…”

He literally sees your shoulders sink. The wave of embarrassment. Part of him loves it. Knowing you’re experiencing some of the same things he is. That you to, know what it’s like to leave a bed feeling like things didn’t go right, and there’s a guilt that hardens like sediment in your gut. Yet the other half, resists pushing harder. Using this same, defensive, and chastising tone. To give you just a bit of respite, because, he’s not really mad… he’s just fuming with jealously.

“If I knew… I wouldn’t have…” You can’t manage much more. Both of you knowing damn well this wouldn’t have happened if you knew what his arrival was going to be. You always kept so good to his schedules… and not just because this was his house. But because you were so genuinely sweet around him.

“Been so loud?” He suggests, downing the last gulp of his scotch and pushing away from the counter. “Speaking of that…” His gaze lingers on your throat… those faked moans echoing in his mind.

“I didn’t know it was common practice for women to walk their fucktoys to the door… especially when he doesn’t make you come.”

If your stomach was twisting before, there wasn’t a doubt now. And god… you couldn’t tell if it was that he was home, or his voice, or just the edged-feeling of your aching pussy; but König was making you squirm. More than he’d ever done before… and you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of him plenty of times before when no other fantasy had done the trick.

“I finished.” You defend, tightening the blanket around your waist and tucking your bare feet under the excess material pooling on the floor.

König’s eyes blacken, and he laughs lowly. It’s the closest you’ve seen to his behavior when he’s interrogating someone. His power of knowing all the right answers and just dangling the freedom to lie right in front of your face. Maddening, to say the least. And enough to make your thighs flex together.

“I’d like to believe you…” he begins, making leisurely steps closer. “Yet, I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit hearing you come… and what I just hear… is nothing close to the real thing.”

“It’s different with—when it’s not just me.” You gape at him, trying to find anger at the audacity.

Searching for something other than a feeling of arousal knowing that despite your muffled cries into pillows, he’d still heard you at night. Still listened, and if nothing else, knew what your true pleasure sounded like to call you on bullshit. He shrugs, massive hands resting on his hips. Watching them sway a little as he keeps getting closer. Testing the boundary lines you no doubt had. Pushing and prodding at weak spots, and wondering if he can set foot on the living room rug you stood at the center of.

“Different, huh?” The fake acceptance doesn’t last long. “So if I asked for proof… you’d have it?”

“Proof?” You choke out. “What kind of proof could I even give you?” There are plenty running around in your head, all of them raunchier than the previous. But you’re almost desperate to hear him say it.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got the wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever heard,” He growls softly. “You never finish yourself off without making the slickest goddamn noises. Can hear it from down the hallway like it’s playing off my phone.” He adds, voice getting gritty, eyes lowering towards your hips and back up.

“Show me, that is… if he really did make you come.”

Air in your lungs evaporates. God it’s criminal how fucking lewd anything could sound coming from his mouth. And your dry pussy is pathetically getting wetter by the second. Fluttering muscles twitching with each filthy admission he makes. You’re already resorting to putting pressure against your clit by flexing your legs, trying to deny the feelings. Excusing it all by the still-lingering desire for release and not König. Not moving, and a miserable lack of a response forces him to approach faster. Stepping onto the rug serving as a mental barrier for you.

“Embarrassed?” He asks, head tilting a little and stretching the hood to pull away from his chest a little. Putting a bit more of his chest on display in that tight t-shirt.

You shake your head defiantly.

“Oh? Okay then… you should be able to show me then, right? Pretty girl like you, wanting to get fucked… Should be more than willing to brag that you got satisfied. That he left you satiated…”

Your face burns. Debating how to answer. If it’s even smart to try and test your voice in the first place.

“Nothing to see… got-got cleaned up…” God the miserable truth that your no-name partner’s cum was the only thing needing cleaned off of you hits like a punch to the gut.

A massive hand grabs at the blanket in your grip stops all possibility of lying anymore. A warning. Gentle, for sure and meant to be just a small test of consent. However, you too far into this to not want more. He’s just hitting all the right buttons, whether he means to or not.

“How about I… check for myself?” He asks lowly, free hand -covered in a glove- sliding up under his hood and returning into sight with the achingly sexy sight of a huge, scarred hand. His meaning isn’t lost on you, and it’s almost like your cunt floods in anticipation.

“Slide my hand between your pretty thighs, and see just how good he treated you…” He murmurs, trailing fingers down the two sides of the blanket pulled together. “Let me see if that pussy is fucking drenched like she deserves to be.”

“König.” You warn softly, eyes darting down to his hand and back to his eyes.

Not the slightest bit worried about him touching you. Not at all. But about what would happen after all the tension faded. What would come of your relationship if you fucked… or, just made things complicated in general.And he pauses, looking to you a bit cooler. His breathing still heavy, and laden with emotion.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You’re desperate to think of a way to explain yourself, but the most basic, stupid, comment comes out of your mouth.

“I don’t want this to end badly.”

He straightens just a bit. But his hands don’t move. And while from your perspective, it seems he’s hesitating on whether or not to continue, that’s not what’s got him stuck mere inches away from slipping his fingers between your folds.

He’s worried you know. That you’ve caught on to his inexperience, and are merely defending yourself from a second bad experience in one night. And god it makes this throat burn. Desperate to defend himself and prove that while -yes- he’s more than a little bit lost when it comes to the manual process, he’s still going to be the most teachable fucking man you’ve ever met.

“I’ll listen so well…” He eventually mutters, stepping just a bit closer. Voice lowering and a hint of desperation entering it. “Can—can give you everything you want… Just need to tell me…” he adds, unable to look you in the eyes.

It’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear, but it still strokes that burn between your thighs. Especially when his hands grip your hips through the blanket wrapped around you. Groping softly, massaging at the fat over your muscles and feeling hungry just to touch you.

“I… I don’t want things to be awkward afterwards.” You try to reexplain. Hoping the clarification will help him see why you hadn’t already leaned into his commanding touch.

“Awkward,” he repeats, as if it’s a foreign idea. Like it’d never crossed his mind. “Don’t plan on ignoring you anymore… Not—Not after hearing that… and knowing… fuck…”

“He couldn’t have listened… please tell me you tried to tell him what to do… what you wanted,” His rambles get more panicked. Like every thought in his head is equally important and he can’t take the time to pick one and let me even answer. “Should’ve asked what your pussy needed… how to make you feel good… make those pretty sounds..”

You’re half dazed just watching his breathy words fan the material of his hood to react to his boot kicking your feet apart. Wide hand sliding between your thighs and groaning. A deep, guttural sound that reminds of him being winded. And really… he probably should be. Because your inner thighs are dry to the touch. The wetness he’d been creating still not enough to make much fuss over. But he’s not satisfied with that alone. Immediately curling a finger to spread your lips, feeling the thick, slick of new arousal that had been nothing, if not his doing.

“Ohh, you poor baby…” He sighs lowly, head rolling back at the mere sensation of your pussy under his fingertips. Feeling you a bit anxiously, yet getting a buzz in the back of his skull when your hole pulses against his prodding touch. “Left you so fucking hot…”

It’s a fast movement but he’s got you off your feet and dropped down onto the couch in one swift move. Your back arched in the slumped position and the blanket that’d been covering your -pathetic- modesty, fluttered open on both sides of your hips. Leaving your core exposed to his hungry and heavy-lidded eyes. Letting out a little whine of a sound when he slowly drops to a knee; tracing his hands down your inner thighs like he was scared of touching you too harshly.

“König, please…” You gasp out, watching his thumb run over your swollen labias. Pinching your fat lips together softly and inadvertently putting delicious pressure on your swollen clit. He curses under his breath, free hand grabbing your thigh with bruising strength.

“Tell me how to please you,” He commands, eyes flashing dangerously wide in the icy moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “I need to make you come.”

His desperate, and knows you can see it. His whole body shakes seeing your flushed pussy a mere foot away from his face, and nothing but opportunity and his hood preventing him from burying his face in it. Watching as you shyly reach for his wrist, guiding his hand where you want it. Extending his fingers and whimpering when your motion for him to rub small circles over your clit sends those to-intense waves of pleasure through your pussy.

“Like that… just like that…” You’re able to praise with a shaky nod of your head.

Rocking your hips in tandem with his movements and nearly crying out in relief when he diligently keeps the same pressure to you despite your little twitches and grinds. Allowing you the freedom to plant your feet on the edge of the couch and simply feel. König’s lost in it. Lost in the sight of you. Your pretty mouth gaping open and your hips chasing the touch he’s providing. His breath catching when you cry out or give a weak praise for his work. Like you’re enjoyingwhat he’s doing.

But god he’s happy to stay right where you want him, how you want him. Feeling his knee dig into the harsh floorboards, and ignoring it with a refreshed feeling of duty he’d long lost as a soldier. Never had he been given such a pretty fucking prize to work for. Nothing as sweet as seeing your cunt drip from his rough fingers rubbing soft, almost too-soft circles over it. Not even realizing that he’d spent almost fifteen minutes just rubbing your clit lazily when your hand reaches back down. Happy to direct him yet again, especially when he doesn’t even need a verbal direction to do exactly what you want.

“Fingers,” You whisper through panting exhales. “Give me your fingers…”

Your little hand grabs his pointer and middle fingers, spreading your own slick over them like a goddamn professional before guiding him down to your aching hole. Letting go just long enough to feel the thick digits press though that first little ring of tightened muscle. Forcing your eyes open to witness his mostly-hidden expression as he sinks knuckle deep inside of you.

“So fucking pretty,” His head shakes a little, lost in the creamy slick gathering at the base of his fingers as he curls him up towards your pelvis just a little. Subconsciously scared to do the wrong thing, but desperate to keep your cunt flex and mold to his touch. “Tell me, sweetheart… show me what she needs.”

You’re too possessed to chase your high to not listen. Readjusting your bent legs on the couch to gently lift your hips and sink them back down. Slowly getting used to the feeling of his thick fingers, already deeper than your no-name partner. Groaning when they bump into your g-spot just hard enough to make your clit burn. Grinding against his hand and keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist just to try and ground yourself to the present situation. Lost in the rhythm of fucking yourself -quite literally- stupid within mere minutes. Beginning to hear that vulgar, sucking sound of your pussy gripping his fingers and utterly drooling over his palms.

König’s helpless to so more than sing your praise. “That’s a good girl… so good for me. Using me like a fucking toy.”

It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. Watching you take from him. Too absorbed to even think about anything other than yourself. Not in enough control to even worry about the true moans and yelps escaping you. Real pleasure wracking your body and burning every nerve ending.

“More… please more…” You cry softly, hips slowing to a painfully sexy grind as you squeeze the tendons in his wrist with your thumb.

König takes a little more initiative than he’s normally comfortably using, but adds a third finger. Slowly pumping them in and out, little by little, to help you adjust. Watching as your eyebrows pinch together in focus. A low growl rumbles in his chest, his mouth practically watering as your cunt sucks him in.

“Let me taste it, baby…” He huffs, head flinching forwards before backing off, repeating the action a couple more times. “Wanna help… just—just let me taste you…”

You clench around his fingers when he rests his cheek against your inner thigh. Big, wide eyes pleading with you so innocently like he isn’t stretching your hole wider than the biggest of your toys can with nothing but a few fingers. Forcing you to slow the roll of your hips, a shaky hand reaching out to cup his face through the mask. Rubbing a thumb over his hidden cheekbone with a little whimpered hum. Pulling his head closer to you, hissing when the hem of his hood merely grazes your clit.

“How’d you want it?” He asks, head down and pulling his mask up so you’re stuck. Forced to merely feel his mouth so close to you, and not see the shape of his mouth.

“Lick-lick my clit… s-soft…” You whine, eye shutting when the hot fan of his exhale his your fevered skin.

Holding his head steady with one hand, you almost coming up off the couch when his tongue makes one, long, lazy, lap between your folds. Gripping at the material of his hood just tight enough that he ends up ripping the whole thing off. Tossing it to the floor with an aggressive snarl that rumbles against your clit. Sparks of pleasure forcing your thighs apart and jerking your hips back up. Chasing his mouth. The rough texture of his tongue, and the slight graze of his teeth against your slicked folds.

Your orgasm approaches fast from there. Between his fingertips stroking you deep, and the new rhythm of his tongue lapping your slick up to massage your clit, it’s hard to even warn König that he can’t stop for risk of ruining your long-awaited release.

“König… K… oh… fuucckk…”

Your back arches tightly, both hands grabbing harshly at his hair with an unintelligible shout as you come. Jerking wildly and one of your feet losing it’s hold on the edge of the couch. Trying to fight through the shocks of pleasure, and groaning curses with a hoarse throat. Feeling König’s free hand latch onto your thigh to keep you from running away too far from his still-working lips and tongue. Sucking up the wet drips of release trying to drip down his hand.

“Slow, slow down.” You whimper, pushing at his forehead just a little. The pressure too much. The stretch of his fingers still satisfying but overstimulating.

Your so fucking grateful that he doesn’t fight you on it, or force you to try for another. And maybe it’s just the mere sight of you. abdominal muscles twitching, forcing your upper body to do baby-curls with each flex of your pulsing cunt. Toes curled and an all-over buzzing sensation making it hard to even make sense of where your limbs are in relation to the rest of your body, much less König or the couch your hardly laying on.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His softened voice almost gives you emotional whiplash, especially when he bends over you forehead resting against yours softly.

Gently removing his fingers with murmured apologies when your little winces mar your pretty features. Both hands sliding up your sides to help lift you back onto the couch, moving to sit himself next to you just long enough to reposition your body on his lap. Pulling that blanket back over your bottom half and maneuvering your cold, tingling feet between his thighs like he can tell they’re freezing. He presses soft kisses all over your forehead and nose. Rocking you softly and squeezing at the muscles in the back of your neck reassuringly.

“You needed that… needed to feel good…” he murmurs almost lovingly.

You nod dumbly, laying your head against his shoulder. Letting out soft nearly unconscious whimpers and a soft repetition of his name in cum-drunk appreciation.

“Told you I could listen… could be good for you,” He adds, almost like he’s reassuring himself of the idea. “Wanted to be better than him. Needed to prove it.”

He holds up your weighty head, stabilizing it with care and a sickeningly sweet look of devotion in his eyes.

“You’re never going to fake it again, sweetheart.”

reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3

[idontplaytrack]

✧ Sundress

Janis ‘Imi’ike x shy fem! reader + Regina George x Cady Heron

Warnings: MDNI, smut. Semi-public sex, group sex, oral, fingering, spanking, mild degradation(reader receiving)

In which, Janis can’t get enough of reader’s sundress and an afternoon out by the pool turned into something more

The spring season had just rolled around but there was something unusual about it...how warm the weather was. It already felt like summer despite it being several months away. Trying to make the best of it, you and Janis decided to head over to Regina's to hang out since it was currently spring break. Janis got into the driver's seat with you in the passenger's side. And it was like a switched flipped in her once she started driving. Her hands were all over you while you sat uncomfortably. You shot her a look, displeased right as she stopped at a light. "Babe, what the hell are you doing?"

"You look so cute in that dress..." She grins, hand squeezing your thigh, "God...I wish I could just eat you up."

You snorted a laugh, "I'm not about to have you pull over somewhere just so you can eat me out." "Who says I have to do that to make you feel good, baby?" A smirk forms on her face as her fingers started to trail your thigh, making you squirm because you were ticklish. As much as you tried to play it cool, you couldn't deny that you were becoming just a little turned on by the idea. You shrug. "So you're okay with it?" Janis asks for confirmation.

"Yeah." You answered curtly. Her hand moved to the space between your thighs and you feel her fingers push your underwear out of the way before they began to tease your folds. Truthfully, this whole situation made you a little nervous, but it wasn't like you had the time to think about that. Janis was skilful at making you wet- meaning it never took her long to have you ready to take her fingers or her mouth...or whatever else she had in store for you. Of course, you finding her to be so incredibly attractive also helps when you allowed your mind to wander. The tenderness of her gesture combined with the warmth radiating from her hand was a sure-fire way to rile you up- and the weather? Things were strangely in both of your favours. Janis alternated between finger-fucking you and rubbing your clit which was only just enough to stimulate you and always had you yearning for more. You'd been biting down on your lower lip so you didn't make any noise of seemed suspicious to any possible onlookers, so when Janis finally pulled up in front of Regina's mansion after literally edging you for a half hour you just had to kiss her.

"Calm down, y/n..." She chuckles lowly, hand around the back of your head to pull you in for another kiss, "Hard to think that you said you didn't want to get fucked like this while on our way here, huh? Now you're so needy, aren't you? Can't keep your hands off me."

After a few minutes of a handsy make-out, you both quickly straightened up and rang Regina's doorbell. Seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Cady, wearing a halter swim top and boyshorts. Regina showed up behind her wearing a bikini.

"Oh, fuck me." You mumbled incoherently.

"Baby, I so would." Janis laughs, side stepping the couple to enter. You do the same, your eyes avoiding them.

"What's up with your lip?" Regina asks almost immediately, sitting down on a in-pool lounge chair.

"Nothing." You lie, not about to reveal the sexual antic in the car to the most popular girl in school.

"Yeah, everyone shows up with a bleeding lip and messy hair to my house." She scoffs. "So unless you got into a fight, Janis totally had her way with you in the car." You blushed, sipping your can of soda. You looked at Janis uncomfortably, she just looked at you with a smirk. "Did you seriously wear a t-shirt to the pool, 'Imi'ike? Come on, just take it off- the weather's fucking hot. I'm not gonna save you if you fall in the pool and hit your head."

"I don't see either of you telling her to do the same." Janis retorted, pointing to you.

"She's shy, I'm not gonna force her to do that." Regina chuckles over her words, swirling the drink in the can.

"She seems pretty mad at you." Cady mentioned to Janis.

"No, she's not." Janis said back, the smirk still on her face.

"Well, she looks-"

"Sweetie, I think y/n's just a little...bothered." Regina leans closer to the redhead beside her.

It took a second but, "Oh. Oh, okay. Sorry, I uh- sorry."

Janis snorted trying not to laugh. Regina looks at her amused, "That's the last thing you should be feeling. I feel like we should just...fuck." "What?" Cady shot the blonde a bewildered look. Regina wasn't joking.

"We're all thinking about it...come on." Regina laughs, looking at you then at Janis. "I mean, not exactly like this but now that we're all just here, why not?"

You were still avoiding eye contact with anyone who wasn't your girlfriend, and now maybe even your girlfriend too. But, your body seems to know what it wanted before your mind did, sending a rush of heat down south.

"Look at this poor thing, crossing her legs." Regina brought the attention onto you, glancing at Janis who manages to give her a shrug, "First time for everything right?" "Cady?" Regina asks, looking over her shoulder. "Well..." Cady exhaled, her nostrils flaring, "I'll admit that's always been a fantasy of mine."

"y/n?" Regina asks you softly, complete opposite of her usual tone of voice. It made your heart flutter unwillingly as you licked your lips and flinched at the sore spot.

"If you don't wanna do it, you can just watch...or do whatever you want in this house. She has plenty of games and shit." Janis scooted closer to you to speak, "I don't want you to be uncomfortable. Or I could just take you to the bathroom and y'know."

"The bathroom? You might as well fuck her out here in the open if you want to pick that place. I have guest rooms, Janis." Regina was offended. Your hear Cady laugh, and Janis' eyes leave you. Then, her gaze returns. You look at her. "It's okay, just- let's just do it here. Fuck it." You decided. There was definitely some shock in her eyes when she heard that, but she was genuinely concerned, "Are you sure?"

You nodded silently. "Okay." She cups your cheek in her hand, pulling you closer, "Looks like we're doin' it."

"Safe word is red." Regina declared. Janis immediately attacked your lips with hungry kisses and naturally, she managed to pick you up onto her lap without breaking the contact one bit. "So are we all just focusing on her first or what?" Regina was suddenly beside you. Janis annoyedly yanked the blonde to your chest. "Alright, then." The blonde was impressed, sharing a look with Cady then tilting her head towards you.

"Just...do whatever you think will feel good." Regina encouraged. Your eyes peeled open briefly and you saw the blonde sitting on the floor — in the water, right in front of your face. Your cheeks flushed as she put a finger through the shoulder strap of your sundress, pushing it down just enough to reveal your breast. While Janis trailed wet kisses down from your lips to your jaw, you let a whimper slip when she found the particularly sensitive spot on your neck. With Cady's hand still stagnant on your thigh, you feel Regina pinching your nipple. That was when Cady started to grope your thigh, moving in sync with her girlfriend's movement. This 'triple-threat' clouded your mind so quickly that you forgot what you were even apprehensive of. You simply had not a single second to think about anything then the rapidly growing pleasure.

————

Janis removes you from her lap, causing them all to detach from you. But before you could grumble, your girlfriend was straddling you, pushing down the other strap of your dress and smoothly pulling the piece of clothing off downwards. Now in nothing but your soaked underwear, the moment of sobriety hits- making you acutely aware that you were almost fully undressed in front of people who wasn't your girlfriend. Regina took this as an opportunity to attach her mouth onto your breast, sucking on it expertly. You whimpered aloud, but the noise was quickly swallowed by Janis' unending kisses. Then, you feel your legs get pushed apart and the absence of a pair of lips on yours. Your eyes darted downwards and saw Janis face to face with your pussy. And Cady...she was- oh, now working your other breast, pinching and twisting the hardened tip like no one's business. As you tried to fight the urge to kiss someone, Janis' tongue lightly flicked your heated clit, watching your reactions closely. But her gently moves were no longer sufficient. You blindly found her head and held her close with your hand. Regina pulls away from you to watch your face, as you whined about the loss of that one form of stimulation, your eyes somehow saw the blonde touching herself. "OH, fuck." You panted, "Regina - can- can I kiss you?"

"Thought you'd never ask." She smirked, your head tilted to capture her lips, her hand was cupping your cheek to keep you from moving- just like how Janis' was, so that you were not squirming about. Cady begins to suck on your neck so aggressively that you simply found it impossible to hold back anymore - a particular loud whine echoed through the space when Cady also found the same sensitive spot in the crook of your neck. Regina laughs into the kiss, Janis responded by squeezing your thigh- all of which to force you to open your mouth and let them hear you.

"Let me hear you, okay, baby?" Janis requested gently knowing that it'd definitely work on you.

"Are we making you feel so good, y/n?" Regina's hand migrated to your chin, managing to squeeze just about both of your cheeks, you nodded impatiently, "I wanna hear you, okay? No more holding back. Me, Janis and Cady want to hear just how good we're fucking you, you little slut."

"Hey!" Janis exclaimed with a gasp.

"I-it's fine." You swallowed harshly, "Ja- Janis, keep going." She didn't say anything but you felt her again, so there's that. You felt yourself approaching the peak at a steady pace, but when you felt two fingers slip inside of you, the paced just picked up a ton. Especially with Cady apparently now rubbing your clit to add on to it. You felt the need to go onto your side, and they didn't stop you but just went along with it. Janis couldn't care about how you were presented in front of her, as long as she could continue sucking you dry and making you cry— almost. Regina stuck her tongue into your mouth making you moan in return. And fucking hell, this whole set up was something you never thought you'd be involved in, yet here you are being the centre of attention. "She's crying, Janis." Regina realised as she broke away, "You alright?" As dirty this act felt, you knew they all cared about you. It wasn't just for them. But because Regina pulled away from the kiss, so did your hand on her breast.

"I'm fine—" You assured, back arching off the chair at the same time you fell back flat on it. Janis was forcing your legs open at this point, assaulting your nearly-overstimulated bundle of nerves to get you over the edge. "She's close." Janis spoke while her face was buried in you, it made you cry out. Then her tongue pushes into your entrance just to give you more. "Fuck!" You let out, nearly screaming. Everything- every little bit of touch, contact, anything at all sent shocks down your spine as you inched closer to your high. There was no doubt both Janis and Cady could feel how erratic you were. But Regina was no fool, giving you all that she's got to help the two girls shove you into overdrive. Janis smacks you repeatedly, sending needy noises and vulgarities spewing from your usually nice mouth. The three of them ogling at you while you started seeing stars, feeling yourself throbbing. "God, y/n. i never would've expected this from you...so loud." She chuckles into your ear, "I'm so close too, baby. Keep going, that's it- let me hear you moaning and whining for us, you little plaything..."

"Cads, switch please?" Regina asks hopefully, right at the second where Janis stops everything.

"Oh, my God..." You squirmed, "Janis-"

Cady quietly switched places wth Regina, allowing the blonde to finally feast her eyes on your drenched cunt. But that wasn't all...no. She didn't just take her spot. Regina fucking George climbs on top of you, her legs bracketing either of your sides. Her bare ass hovering above your face, her voluptuous breasts pressed against your torso were not on your list of possible occurrences — ever.

Holding her hair out of the way in one hand, Regina proceeds to traap your clit in her mouth. "Oh, my God—" Three words. That's all you could get out before Cady tilts your head towards her and kissed you. She shut you up, but your mouth wanted to moan, whimper, whine...all of it. You couldn't take this intensity much longer: Cady was groping your breasts and making out with you, Regina was sucking onto your clit like it was candy and Janis? She was as good as slamming into your sore cunt like this was her last chance to do so. All of them were merciless, savouring your moment of desire for touch. And more. All of them had one goal in mind...

You somehow manage to get out of Cady's hold on you, "Shit, guys- I'm so —" They didn't want that- they wanted to hear your needy little noises. They were a determined trio, and you easily submitted to them being so close. You were holding back your orgasm, wanting to feel more until you absolutely couldn't take it. "Think you can give us one, my love?" Janis peppered soft kisses on your inner thighs, her fingers still going in and out of you but sluggishly. You reflexively shook your head no, wanting her to go faster. "Please go faster, Janis. Please." You begged tearfully. "I need- I want more."

Her fingers rammed into you just like you'd asked, the other two of them picking up their paces too as you wished for. The coil in your core threatens to let go. You whined loudly, and it was like they could read your mind. "Come on, baby. I know you can do it." Janis coaxed, "Come for me, baby..." She feels your muscles clenching and she pokes at your g-spot intentionally for a few times before retracting her fingers. "Off." Janis demanded and the blonde quickly detached her mouth to let Janis take you. You unraveled, back arching off the surface as the release gushed from you into her mouth. Janis chuckles contently, kissing you there before lapping you up. You were moaning throughout each second of your orgasm, giving their eyes and ears a sinful treat.

Janis was trying to clean you up but the blonde and her redhead clearly had other ideas. "I think she can give us one more, Janis. What do you think?" Cady asks.

As much as Janis was worried, seeing how badly your body trembled, she was the only one who knew for a fact you could come again. She's done it before- and during both your first times. "Are you up for it, my love?"

Your mind's turned to mush, desperate for more pleasure. Still hearing your heart pounding in your ears, you gave them the green light and so, they carried out their ministrations for a second time from you. Janis let them do it- Regina rubs your clit while Cady finally had her turn to fuck you with her fingers. Janis watched, enjoying the little show before her eyes. Before any of you knew it, the clear gush of liquid proceeded to come out of you nearly drenching Janis in the face. "Holy shit." Regina stops, chuckling in disbelief. "Wow." Cady pulls her slicked covered fingers out swiftly, tempted to lick them clean. Regina notices and just put them into the redhead's move, raising a brow, "Go on, taste her." Regina climbs off of you, letting Janis take over. "Good girl." Janis presses a kiss to your lips, "You're alright, hm?"

"I know," You said back tearfully, "I know, I just- oh. my. god."

"You did incredible." Regina winked, "It was good, wasn't it?"

"Good?" You panted, "I can barely breathe now."

"Never would've thought something like this would actually happen." Cady grins, "You...taste so sweet."

"I know." Janis smirked, kissing you again.

"We should do this again." Regina decided.

"Not today you're not." You instantly informed her.

Regina shrugged calmly, "Sure, you watch us three then."

[gojomamashouse]

I certainly can. And I did. Well, sort of. I took some creative liberties with this one. Crossposted on Ao3.

Warnings: 18+ Content Vaginal sex, Praise kink, Loss of virginity (both reader and Mike), soft!dom Mike.

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Reader

Summary: From the name written on your sneakers to the hickey on your neck, Mike had left his mark on you in more ways than one.

Words: 5.8k

According to fandom wiki, Mike is 25 in the movie. The timeline of this story is based on this fact.

In Permanent Marker

1995

Mike has a problem. An even bigger problem than his annoying younger sister, or the bills he cannot pay that keep piling up. That problem is you, his new next-door neighbour.

It all began when he had been unloading the boxes from the car, calling out to Abby as she disappeared to explore the new house. The place was small, but enough for the two of them. More importantly, it was as affordable as it could get, given the savings his parents left behind, the money from the government, and his new job. That was all he really needed.

"Need help, there?"

A voice broke him from his thoughts, a voice belonging to you. He did a double take as he looked to his side towards you, nearly dropping the box in shock. He blinks as if you're nothing more than a hallucination, induced by his lack of sleep, dehydration, and the summer heat. Because there was no way that you were standing there. Someone his age. Someone so attractive. Someone exactly his type and talking to him. You take notice of his shocked expression.

"My folks and I saw you from the window," you point to the house left of his, "thought I could lend a hand.”

"Yeah. Yeah, uh," he nods eagerly, breaking eye contact as he fumbles over his words. He looks back towards the house, "If you could watch my little sister while I unload these. She’s somewhere inside…”

“You’ve got it,” you flash him a smile.

—

He’s sweating and close to passing out as he places the last box down in the front hallway, bracing himself against the wall as he catches his breath. He then looks around. There’s no furniture yet. He couldn’t afford movers to help move the couch or the kitchen table from his parent’s old house, instead opting to sell the furniture and find cheaper options once moved in. That meant he’d be eating on the floor until he had time off work again. This also meant he’d have to take Abby table-shopping and listen to her complain every time she picked something out of his price range, then cry the whole drive back home. He groans to himself, annoyed by his endless stream of thoughts. He supposes that’s just adulthood, now. There’s always something to think about.

He hears giggling from down the hallway, grabbing his attention enough to raise himself from the wall. He creeps towards the sound, peeking past Abby's door. A box was open on the floor, toys and crafts scattered across the carpet. You sit cross-legged in the middle of the room at Abby’s side and she’s pointing to her drawings, chattering away.

He wonders how you make it look so easy.

—

"I don't like it here." Abby tugs on the leg of his jeans, "Can we go back?"

It’s the last thing Mike wants to hear the morning after moving in, his back and arms still sore from all that he carried. He looks down to see her lips were pulled into a frown, her brows furrowed. He's leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking instant coffee from a mug he'd managed to dig out from one of the kitchenware boxes, staring at all the shit he has left to do. And, of course, his sister could never let him do that in peace.

"This is where we live now."

"Why?"

"Because it is."

"I don't want to live here."

And I don't want to work shitty hours for shitty pay just to afford this dump, he thinks to himself.

Still, he can't blame her. The place is a downgrade. The toilet in the main bathroom doesn't really flush, her room is half the size of the one at their parent's old place, and he’d discovered more than a few suspicious stains on some of the walls and carpeting around the house.

"Well, that's just too bad."

"I want to go back!" She shouted, her little fingers digging harder into the fabric of his jeans, now trying to tug his leg. He tries to nudge her off, shaking his leg just enough to make her lose her grip, but she doesn't budge. He sighs to himself.

She's at that age. Five years old, and a complete menace. She was smarter than she looked and had begun to realize that sometimes creating a fuss could get him to bend the rules for her, which now meant she was constantly defying him. Constantly picking a fight. Constantly whining about something. And as much as he loved her he could not stand to hear another tantrum, especially not this early in the morning.

"Stop it, Abby. I'm not dealing with this today."

"Nu-uh!"

She screams when he tugs her away with his hands, lifting her in the air while she tries to kick and shove him away. He knows he's bound to have bruises from where she kicks his torso and scratches where her nails dig into his skin. Had he any energy left in him, he might have been tempted to raise his voice at her. That's one good thing to come out of his restless nights, at least.

The doorbell rings and she's still whining when he places her down on the floor. He kneels to her level, hands on either of her little shoulders.

"We can talk about it later, okay?" He lowers his voice, desperate for her to be quiet. Anything for her to be quiet. "Behave. And quit being such a baby."

His words were enough to render her silent, by some miracle, and so he goes to the door, only to see you standing there. You . He knows he's ogling again and he hates himself for it but he can't help himself, not when you're so pretty. He leans against the doorframe, clearing his throat.

"Hey, uh. What are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you, too. Thought you might need more help," You lean forward, taking a peek inside the place and noting all the boxes, "Judging by all this, I guess I thought correctly."

"Guilty as charged," he holds his hands up, cherishing the sound of your laugh.

The moment doesn't last long. He fails to notice that behind him, his sister is teary-eyed, her lower lip quivering. You furrow your brows, about to say something, but the little girl beats you to it.

"You— you jerk!" Abby finally lets out, and you stand dumbfounded at the door, watching the crying girl. She turns to Mike. "I hate you!"

She runs off to some room somewhere and slams the door, the distant sound of sobs easily heard from down the hallway where you two stood. While you stood there in shock, Mike had grown used to these outbursts, but it didn't leave him entirely unfazed. There was still a tug on his heart like there always was.

"She's just having a moment right now," he sighs, his fingers rubbing his temples, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You're not going to go and talk to her?"

"She hates me. Didn't you hear?"

"You know that's not true," you shove past him, your hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment longer which certainly did not go unnoticed, "come on."

"What do I even say?"

"You're going to go apologize, dumbass."

That's how he found himself standing outside his sister's door. He was about to simply walk in, until you stopped him, your hand on top of his as he reached for the knob.

"Knock first."

He would've asked why but he's too distracted by how your little touches keep making his face grow hotter, so he simply nods and does as you say, raising his fist to the door. He hears Abby's sobs halt the moment he does. He looks to you, and you nod, as if to signal him to start talking.

"Abs?"

There's a sniffle. "Go away."

"Look, I'm sorry for hurting you. Just open the door." You toss him a glare, "Please?"

There's a pause.

"Liar," she hisses, "you're only sorry 'cause they're making you."

Mike is about to retort, but you raise your hand to silence him.

"Abby, we both want to make sure you're alright. Could you please open the door so we can talk?"

There's a pause and then a shuffle, the sound of her moving from the floor to go and open the door. She's red in the face, snot-nosed and teary-eyed. Mike's heart can't help but break at the sight. He's an idiot. A complete and utter idiot.

"I-I'm not a baby," she blinks at Mike, lifting her arm to wipe her snot on her sleeve, "Y-you're always s-so mean to me. I hate that."

"I didn't mean it. I just, uh... I say stuff sometimes." He frowns, a trembling in his voice. He speaks softly as if it will compensate for all the harsh words spoken prior, "I promise I won't say mean stuff anymore. Honest."

"Pinky promise?"

She raises her pinky finger.

"Yeah. Pinky promise."

He raises his own, letting her little finger curl around his. She quickly wipes her tears away.

The rest of the day is spent doing whatever Abby wants. Mike discovers quickly that you seem to love spoiling her. You take her to the park, let her unpack all her toys and leave them tossed all around the house. You end up ordering pizza at her request, as well, and by the end of the day, she’s saying she wishes you were her older sibling instead. Though it’s said jokingly, it still pierces him through the heart.

The day ends with a tired Abby curled up in her sleeping bag on the floor of her room. Now he's with you, you sitting atop the counter at his side while he places the leftover pizza slices from the takeout boxes into ziplock bags. If he had it his way, the day would have ended with all the moving boxes being unpacked, but he supposes a happy Abby makes his life a hell of a lot easier than an unhappy one.

"She's a lot easier than most her age."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'm the oldest ' kid ' in this neighbourhood. I've babysat for practically every family around here," you sip your drink, "she was very quick to forgive you. Not just any kid does that."

Garett had been the same way. Every prank he played, every cruel joke, he forgave him for because that’s just what older brothers do. The difference being that he was a child back then, not an adult. He may be Abby’s older brother by blood, but he needed to be more than that now. She needed him to be more than that.

He finishes packaging the last slice and throws the leftovers in the fridge. He's now fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie— a poor choice of clothing for the midst of a summer heat wave, but he didn't exactly have lots of options. He supposes he should add clothing shopping to his already long to-do list.

“What am I doing?” He says aloud, “I can’t do this.”

“Don’t say that.”

"This always happens. I get annoyed, she gets hurt, and it’s going to happen again.”

"Nobody's made for this at our age,” you gesture around at the house, then at him, “You're bound to fuck up, that's just inevitable."

"Yeah, thanks,” he deadpans.

"That’s not what I meant. You live and you learn, that's what you do. No one's perfect but we can always try.”

“What if me trying isn’t enough?”

“It’s better than not trying at all.”

He looks back down the hallway, at Abby’s door. Does she care that he's trying? Does she know how much he has sacrificed to give her a semblance of a normal life? He scoffs at himself internally. She's a child, of course she doesn't. That's not her fault. It’s not her responsibility either. She’s the kid, and he’s the adult now. It’s unfair on both sides but that’s the way things are.

"Thank you. For all the help, and everything," He finally says, turning to you.

"That's what neighbours are for, right?" You’re hopping off the counter. It was dark outside now, and fair to assume you’d be on your way home. Only, you halt in your tracks for a moment. "Wait, one more thing."

You pull out one of those disposable cameras from the pharmacy. It’s scratched and beaten up, evidence of its use. He freezes up when he feels your arm draping around him to pull him into the frame and snap a quick picture. He blinks from the flash, and you laugh at the way his eyes squint, shoving the camera back into your pocket.

"The hell?" He raises a brow, "that's going to be an awful one, just so you know."

"I don't care if photos look good. It's about the memories and all that." you roll your eyes, "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early. We're going to finish unpacking.”

You're out the door before he can even reply.

—

He starts to learn who you are, piece by piece. He learns that you don't know a single thing about keeping your curtains drawn shut and that you're completely oblivious to how he's seen you in your room in your pyjamas at night, talking on the phone while you twirl the telephone cord around your finger. He learns that you go to college out of state, which is why you're so insistent on taking photos of everything you can because you get homesick so easily. He learns, that because of that, he won't be seeing you after the summer for many months and struggles to figure out why that thought leaves a dreaded ache in his heart.

The ache only grows the more time he spends with you, whether it’s with Abby or one-on-one. He thinks he’s going to die when he sees you packing up your car at the end of the summer, but offers to help you out regardless.

"Have fun," he says to you, hating how disingenuous the words feel on his tongue.

Your car is now packed, and you're on the steps, him standing on the stone path below. You look up at him with a smile while you're lacing up your shoes. It's those damn shoes you always wear, always torn up and dirty and desperately in need of being replaced. He's not one to talk when it comes to proper footwear, but he swears they are only a thread away from being torn apart.

"I'll try."

You finish doing up your laces, and pull out a permanent marker from your pocket, handing it to him. He gives you a confused look.

"Sign it."

"What?"

"My shoe," you repeat, and he takes notice of your sneakers, varying names written along the white rim already, all in different colours and sizes. "It's something I've been doing since high school. Just to remember."

Knowing how you treasure your photos, it only makes sense to him now. He kneels down and signs it in the black marker, his handwriting atrocious, but evidently an effort to make it appear more legible than normal. He lets go of your ankle when he's done and you smile, raising it to look at his handiwork.

"I tried."

"Hey, it's not that bad."

"It's pretty bad."

You both laugh, and you stand up finally, stepping down to his level. He tries not to show his shock when he feels your arms wrap around him, pulling him tightly towards you. He happily accepts the embrace, soaking up the affection like a dried-out sponge.

"One last thing," you whisper to him, and he feels your hand slip something into his pocket. “Look at it later, ‘kay?”

"I'll miss you."

"I'll be back."

And though he wants to believe you will, he can't help but stare into your dark windows that night, counting down every day until your return. Not everyone in his life has, after all.

He checked his pocket the moment you left earlier that day. It was the photo of the two of you in his kitchen, from one of the first days you met. It was blurry and dark but he could make out the sight of your smile and his face of confusion. The back side has the date written.

He places the photo on his nightstand and rolls over on his back, staring at the Nebraska poster on his ceiling. He took his meds not long ago, his eyes drooping, but his mind unable to stay focused, his thoughts drifting towards you.

—

1996

The last time you called his home line, you said you'd be home in a few weeks, but he still hasn’t seen you yet. The light in your bedroom window remains turned off. He wishes the thought of seeing you again didn’t have him so restless.

Today is his birthday. A whopping twenty-one years old. If he were a normal person, he'd be out with friends, pouring liquor down his throat until he couldn't drink anymore. Instead, he went to work, then returned home late to greet the babysitter on the couch, her middle school textbooks sprawled on the coffee table and Abby already in bed. She’s gone the moment he hands her a twenty-bill, peddling away on her bicycle.

Though the house now has furniture, it still feels so empty. He sits alone on the couch, the sounds from the TV turning into a soft humming. He doesn’t want to think about the dirty plates in the sink or Abby's toys and crayons that littered the living room floor.

His heart skips a beat when he hears a knock on the door. He tentatively gets up, swallowing dryly. It couldn’t be you. You would have called him or said something, right? He’s never been so thankful to be wrong in his life because when he sees you standing there on his steps, in those torn-up sneakers with his name on them, with a six-pack of beer in your hands, he’s immediately grinning like a child.

"Where the hell have you been?" he looks down at the alcohol in your hands, "what's this?"

"A gift for the birthday boy," you grin, "twenty-one. That's a pretty big age."

"Are you twenty-one yet?" He raises a brow.

"You want the beer or not?"

"Alright, alright," he looks into the house, the place dead silent save for the TV. "Let's go out back. Abby has school tomorrow. I don't want to wake her."

Sharing the company of another had become so foreign to him at this point that he forgot how nice it feels to be human. To feel the summer breeze through the fabric of his t-shirt, to feel the condensation from the cold can drip down his fingers, to feel the warmth of the alcohol sitting nicely in his stomach. Hell, he doesn’t even mind how shit the beer you bought tastes, though the initial shock causes him to cough the moment the first gulp is downed.

"Don't tell me you actually waited until now to have your first drink," he hears you say.

"I didn't, but I don't drink that much. Especially not this," he eyes the brand name on the can.

"I was tired of college parties and all the watered-down shit alright? I needed something different."

"Must be exhausting . Getting invited to so many parties."

"Oh, shut it," you shake your head, "trust me, college is lonelier than you think."

He stares down at your sneakers, noticing that not a single new name has been written. One part of him wonders how anyone could not want to become your friend. The other part of him is proud that he’s the last person to sign it, his name standing out compared to all the other old, faded-out ones.

"That's one thing we have in common."

"I take it life's not so great, either?"

"Abby has been acting out less but now she barely talks.” He sighs, “It's... another thing to think about."

There’s a pause.

“Then don’t think about it. Not tonight.”

“Easier said than done,” he rolls his eyes.

"Come on, it’s your birthday and we’re out here moping on your back porch. That's no way to celebrate."

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Something. Anything. I dunno, you're the birthday boy. What do you wanna do?"

"I..." his eyes trail down to your lips and stop. He knows he's being obvious but he's tired enough to where he doesn't really care anymore to hide it. He sees how your brows knit together, and he looks away. "I'm fine doing this."

"That's not what I asked." He feels your hand creep over to his, flat against the porch. Your touch is electric. He allows himself to look at you again. Your eyes are determined and your touch is intentional, he's sure. "I asked what you want ?"

Hesitantly, he lets his hand intertwine with yours. He's barely able to meet your eyes, embarrassed by his cheeks which he knew were most likely pink by now.

"I want you."

His other hand raises to your cheek, his cold hand against warm skin. His eyes speak to you, though his mouth says nothing, asking for permission. You lean in yourself, tired of his hesitation. You can taste the alcohol on his lips, his mouth so tender and sweet against yours. He's gentle and endearingly clumsy but above all else, he's desperate and he kisses you like you'll disappear the moment he lets you go. His hand is tighter around yours and the other that had first been against your cheek drifted to the back of your neck. You hear him let out a sound when your hand runs through the back of his hair and you're both pulling away, still craving something more.

"How much of me do you want?"

"So much," he gulps, "so much more."

There's a grin on your lips as you drag him by the hand, abandoning the half-drank beer cans as you enter the house. Careful not to alert Abby, who was sleeping next to his room, you both tip-toe down the hallway, unable to help the giggles that escape your mouths. Then, the moment you're in his bedroom, you're pushing him against the door, seizing his lips. You feel his abs under his T-shirt, realizing just what he had been hiding under all those hoodies last summer. You feel the warmth radiating from him, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You smile against his mouth when you feel his hand at your waist, slipping under your top to fit right into the arch of your back. He's holding back, you can tell, and it only makes you want to fan the flames and let him burn even brighter.

You tug him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards the mattress until his legs hit the edge and he’s sitting, your body crawling on top of him. And, for someone who had been concerned about not waking his sister, he sure allows himself to make so many pretty noises. He pulls away for air once again and looks up at you like he worships you, his hands on either thigh while you lean your forehead against his own. He then lets out a laugh, still genuine, though hushed.

"What's so funny?" You murmur.

"This is the best birthday gift I've had in years."

"But you haven't even unwrapped me yet," you quirk your brow. "You said you wanted more, didn't you?"

"I did," he hums, his eyes dragging down over your body, shyly. "Still do. If that's what you want, too."

"You already know I do."

He brings his fingers to the hem of your shirt and slowly lifts it, your arms raising to help him slip it off. You feel yourself shudder under his analytical gaze, even though the night is sweltering. You feel the goosebumps rise under your skin as his fingers brush over your body as if to memorize every curve and texture with his fingertips. And though you had done your best to mask your inexperience all night, it became obvious to him, the moment you were squirming before him— topless— the truth.

"I've never done this before," you admit before he can ask you, feeling more vulnerable than ever as he stares up at you, the most anyone had ever seen of you beneath your clothing.

"That's okay," he tilts his head, big brown eyes looking right back at yours, "if it's okay with—"

"I've already told you it is. Everything is okay with me. Please. "

He nods, his hands reaching behind you, and you feel his fingers at the clasp of your bra. There's a flush on his face as he fumbles with it, brows scrunched as he tries to pull it apart. Then, it hits you. The look in his eyes, the uncertainty in his actions, the constant need for reassurance. He's been trying to hide it just like you were. Had your own mind not been so clouded, perhaps you would have noticed it far sooner. You reach behind yourself, hand brushing past his own to unclasp the bra yourself, before letting it slide down your shoulders. There's a glimmer in his eyes as he takes in your half-naked form, mouth parted slightly.

"You've never done this either, have you?" You ask, hands looped around the back of his neck as you seat yourself better in his lap. You try not to make a sound when you feel his erection through his gym shorts, pressed right up against where you need friction the most.

"Never," he manages to say, somehow. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"We'll figure it out."

You're kissing him again, and this time you're the one fumbling to remove his shirt, unable to properly admire his exposed body as his mouth is pressed against yours the moment the garment is removed. You feel yourself start to crumble at every little noise he makes, every little touch and grinding of his hips into yours. Then his mouth is trailing down your neck and his hands are on your breasts, his touch gentle but his lips hungry. You feel his lips suck on a particular spot on your collarbone and hiss, your fingers threading through his hair.

"You're gonna leave a mark.”

He pulls away, not quite sporting a grin, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s proud, regardless.

"Is that a problem?"

"Bastard," you retort.

With that, you're pushing him down until his back is against the mattress, leaving your own trail of kisses down his neck and chest, a flurry of butterflies in your stomach every time you hear his noises, and whispers of praise. You reach down for his shorts, tugging them down, this time you're able to get a better view of him beneath you. Your hand traces the outline of the muscles on his abdomen and chest, feeling your face heat up, again reminded just how built he was. As if he couldn't get any hotter, you notice the trail of hair leading from his belly button, disappearing beneath his boxers. You suck in a breath, your pupils blown wide.

“I'm gonna go insane if you don't touch me right now,” he says, allowing you to realize just how long you had been staring him down.

The words go straight through you, reminding you of your arousal between your legs, and how you were currently sitting right on top of his dick, the only barrier between you being each other's underwear. You rock your hips against him and hear him whine, your hands flat against his chest. It almost scares you how good it already feels, without having done much of anything at all.

"You have any condoms?" You ask.

"Yeah, think so," he stammers, his eyes darting towards his dresser.

You get up, feeling his eyes on your ass as you dig through the drawer, sifting through clutter. Momentarily, you smile when you find the photo you gave him last year— before returning to the task at hand. You find a condom buried at the very back.

"Were you prepared for this?" You tease.

"I don't think that far ahead. They’re free handouts from sex Ed, senior year."

"If you actually paid attention in that class, you'd know that condoms have an expiration date."

"I did pay attention," he says as you settle yourself back on top of him, the foil between your fingers. "They're not expired yet ."

"Yeah? What else did you learn?"

You suppress a yelp when you feel your position forcibly switched, your back now against the mattress with him hovering over you. The condom had disappeared into his hand.

"That you probably shouldn't be on top for your first," you feel his hand at your panties, brushing your clit over the fabric, "and that you're gonna need more foreplay than just dry humping."

You notice how he looks at you for approval before tossing your underwear aside, admiring how your slick coats his fingers. You'd touched yourself enough times before to know what this feels like but somehow, when it's him doing it instead of yourself, you already feel you'll fall apart at any moment. Your clit is swollen and your hole flutters around nothing as his fingers continue to tease you. Fortunately, he slips his middle finger in before you can scold him for being a tease— and fuck it's so much more than you're used to. His fingers reach inside you better than yours ever did you feel your mouth go agape, your hand reaching to clasp over your mouth out of fear your noises will echo through the mostly silent house.

"Mike," you plea, but to no avail, one hand still desperate to muffle your sounds while the other gripped the bedsheets.

“Is it… am I doing it right?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “please, don’t stop.”

You’d heard horror stories before from others, about how aggressive some men were with their first times. But you think Mike is the opposite. So gentle and considerate— uncertain and awkward, sure, but with a willingness to learn and try.

“Doing so well,” he whispers sweetly, “you’re so perfect.”

You're so close to reaching your high that you almost wish you could strangle him the moment he pulls away, leaning down to capture your lips into a kiss. You then hear the sound of the foil being torn apart and the feeling of his dick rubbing against your centre. Despite his smile, you notice the worry behind his eyes. He's terrified. So, you bring your hand to his cheek.

"I want this," you reassure once again.

He nods.

He slips the tip in and your body spasms, the intrusion feeling so foreign. He watches your expression change with each passing moment he spends pushing into you. He loves the way your lips part, how your lashes flutter shut. Loves how your brows scrunch together. All because of him. You’re so soft and warm around him and he’s struggling to cool himself down.

"So much," you comment, your eyes half-lidded when he finally bottoms you out, your bottom lip pulled by your teeth. He tries not to let the compliment get to him, otherwise, he knows he’ll be finishing faster than he wants.

"You're doing so good," he whispers, his hand intertwining with your own, "taking me so well. Can you keep doing that?"

You nod, and he whimpers, taking another thrust. Your nails are digging into his shoulder blades but he doesn't care. It’s another distraction, helping him hold himself together while you take him. He takes another thrust and nearly loses it when he watches you whine, tilting your face to the side.

“More,” you let out.

You feel every inch of him inside you, pressing against your most sensitive parts and though the initial discomfort hadn’t fully yet faded, you start to feel yourself getting lost in pleasure the more you accommodate him. You continue to drag your nails down his back, the knot inside of you growing tighter. You reach down to touch your clit, aching for more stimulation, but he’s quickly replacing your hand with his own, rubbing circles into you.

“So good.”

“Yeah?” He stammers out, finding it difficult to string words together in the moment.

“You feel so good, Mike.”

He didn’t realize how fucking hot it would be to hear you say his name while you’re fucked out like this until you do, and he feels himself losing a grasp on himself.

The feeling inside of you starts to snap and your body is thrashing around as you approach your high. He feels you grasping onto him like he’s your lifeline, shaking through your cries, which are muffled by your hand on your mouth. He, too, reaches his limit, and he’s burying his face into the crook of your neck in the hopes that he isn’t too loud.

All that’s left is the sound of both of you breathing when it’s over, and you hear him get up, throwing the rubber away. The bed dips at your side and you feel him on top of you again, head buried into your neck as he holds you. You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips, your fingers raking through his brown curls.

It's different from all the times you've touched yourself beneath your sheets in the dead of night. Instead of coming down from your high and laying your head against a cold pillow, your head is against him. You can feel every beating of his heart, every rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. You can feel the stubble on his chin and jaw tickling the crook of your neck. You're shaking, sweating and your whole body aches, yet you want nothing more than to lay here with him. And though you could have given yourself to some other person in college, you know it would not have been the same with anyone else other than the messy-haired brunette who lay atop you.

"Missed you so much," he whispers, "please stay?"

You stare at your house through his window, choosing not to think too hard about the view he has into your bedroom from this angle. Your family wouldn’t care.

"I'm here," you respond, pressing a kiss to his head.

[softmangoes]

night visits | brahms heelshire x reader

18+ only

summary: you've been having trouble sleeping a month after you started working at the heelshire manor. it's time to figure out why.

includes: fem domme! reader, face sitting, teasing, a very subby and needy brahms

_

You felt it again. The hands. In the dream, they roamed over your body, tracing the curve of your shoulder, gliding over the smooth expanse of your abdomen, slowing only once they came to your inner thighs. You shuddered as icy fingers crept closer to the warmth there as if they wanted to gently pry you apart, make you pliable. What would happen, you wondered, if you were to spread your legs?

Before you could get an answer, your eyes snapped open to the emptiness of your room - which was quiet save for the usual rustling within the walls. In your groggy stupor, you realize that your blanket had been cast aside, leaving your legs bare to the cold winter air. Was the heater acting up again? You wondered, slightly annoyed. Sooner or later, you'd have to ask Malcom to find a way to get it checked.

But for now, you brought the covers over yourself and fell back asleep.

The dreams had started at the end of your first month at the manor. The Heelshires had just left for their vacation, telling you that they would be back soon once they had enough of the coastal air. By that time, you had just started to get used to the strange routine they had set for you, so your days would be spent lounging on the divan with a book in your hands as the sound of a piano floated from the record player across the room.

But on that first night, you could have sworn you felt someone touching your hair. It started out as a gentle prod, a delicate brush over the stray strands that had stuck to your cheek that soon turned into what felt like someone slowing running their fingers through your hair.

In the morning, you simply dismissed it as a dream. You were alone in the house, after all. Still, you squinted at yourself as you brushed your locks in front of the mirror.

It's an old house, you told yourself. Strange things happened all the time in old houses.

You looked at the doll sitting on the chair across the room. And this house was certainly no stranger to the unusual.

"Maybe it's sleep paralysis," your friend said, her voice crackly over the bad reception. "I used to get it all the time in college. I'd feel breathing on my neck and things trying to grab me."

Your eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. "You think so? I guess it makes sense - it's a little creepy being along without the old folks around," you said, tapping the spatula against your mouth. Malcom was due to stop by at any time with the weekly delivery of groceries and you still had to plan for dinner. "Well, what do I do, then?"

"You try to open your eyes," she said. "Or move your feet. It's your body that's asleep, so shifting yourself should wake you up."

Later that night, you kiss the doll to end your daily ritual.

"Good night, Brahms," you murmured, wrapping the blanket around him. "You better not be up to any trouble."

Maybe you were going crazy. Maybe it was sleep paralysis. Maybe it was all because you hadn't slept well in a while.

Whatever it was, sleep found you nestled in your blanket and took you easily.

Sometime, somewhere amid the realm that separated consciousness and slumber, you felt a hand slip between your thighs.

You stirred at the sensation of a palm sliding over your vulva and what felt like a thumb pressing against your clit.

Something strange was happening.

You opened your eyes slightly and saw the shape of a man outlined in the moonlight.

It's a dream, you thought, shutting your eyes. It's only a dream.

After a minute, the hand removed itself from your shorts and you heard a faint creaking and then the familiar rustling within the walls.

In the morning, you slid your hand under your panties and found yourself sticky with wetness.

"I don't know what's going on," you lamented, leaning back against the pillow. "For fuck's sake."

Your thoughts wandered to the man from your dream. His broad shoulders. The curls in his hair. His large hand grasping you, his cool fingertips pressing against your seam.

You had no idea if what you were going through was just a dream, but perhaps it could be your fantasy.

Slowly, your fingers moved through the slick and your core embered as you made gentle circles around your clit.

Perhaps moving for this job had been stressing you. Perhaps you weren't prepared for how weird this position turned out to be. Perhaps you were just in need of some sort of release.

"Fuck," you gasped as your hips bucked against your fingers. Your other hand fisted the sheets as your climax shuddered through you, sending little shocks from your clit to your thighs.

Satisfied, you rolled over and sighed, chest heaving from the exertion. Your eyes fell to a crack in the wall. In the back of your mind, you wondered whether or not you were truly alone.

Curious, you slipped your shorts back on and walked to the wall. You pressed your ear against the old plaster and heard the familiar creak of wood along with an exhalation that sounded a lot like breathing.

Smiling, you decided that you were going to try something new that night.

After you capped off your daily routine of taking care of the doll, you brought the covers over your chest and closed your eyes.

Instead of drifting off to sleep, you waited.

After a while, you heard a rustling sound come from near the dresser across the room and the creak of footsteps padding against the wooden floor.

There was a man in your room.

Fear would have been the expected emotion to come over you in such a situation, but you could only feel the static of anticipation dance across your skin.

His breathing was soft, as if muffled by something. Within just a few moments, you felt goosebumps prickle your arms as your blanket was moved aside, exposing you to the cool air.

You felt a weight shift the bed. He was trying to come closer to you - perhaps he was testing how bold he could be. Fingers tentatively slid beneath your shirt, feeling the expanse of your abdomen before settling to cup your bare breast.

You fought against an inhale at his touch and instead, you wrapped a hand around his wrist and opened your eyes to find yourself face to face with a porcelain mask.

Surprised, his eyes went wide and he let out a muffled yelp. You thought he would have fallen back to rush to whatever hole he had crawled out if you hadn't tightened your grip on his wrist and pulled him closer.

"More," you demanded. "I want you to touch me more."

You watched as his eyes flicked from your hand to your face as if nervous. A gulp resounded from his mask as he nodded quickly, squeezing your breast as you worked to unbutton your shirt.

"There," you said, the sides of your silk shirt draped haphazardly over your chest. "You like what you see?"

As if in reply to you, he moved closer to you. He was tall and strongly built, the fibers of his work shirt clinging to lean muscle. You figured that he could easily overpower you.

Maybe he would, if you told him to.

"Good boy," you said, shivering at his thumb grazing your nipple.

So this...must have been Brahms. The real Brahms. Somehow, you couldn't bring yourself to feel shocked. All you could feel was the hunger for him to lay his hands on you.

"Can I touch you?" You asked, looking at the soft curls that fell over his mask.

He paused before giving you another nod. You raised your hand and ran your fingers through his unruly curls, causing him to pant.

"Mmm," he rumbled, his eyes rolling back at the pleasure of your touch.

"You poor thing," you cooed, dragging your fingernails down the length of his nape. "How long have you been wanting this?"

With a swift motion, you wrapped your legs around him and flipped him onto his back. He gasped in surprise, his hands holding your thighs to steady him.

"How long, Brahms?" You pressed, raking a hand across his chest, eliciting another delicious groan from him. "Tell me."

"Ev-every night," he croaked, his voice hoarse with underuse. "Aft...after the first month."

With your palms pressed against his chest, you lowered yourself so that your face hovered just above his. His eyes, wild with shock, scanned you nervously.

"Every night," you said slowly, giving weight to each word. "I tucked you into bed. And for a month, you kept me from having a good night's sleep."

You moved to the shell of his left ear and whispered, "I'm going to take back everything you took from me. Do you understand?"

He nodded, this time even more quickly.

"Please," he said quietly, his eyes squeezed shut.

"First things first," you said, tucking your fingers underneath the edge of his mask. "I want to see more of you."

His hand curled around your wrist as he shook his head.

"Bad," he said, almost panicked. "Very bad."

"Don't you want to be good for me?" You teased, sliding a thumb across his smooth porcelain cheek. "A good little boy - just for me?"

"Mm," he said, his voice high with excitement. "Good," he continued, hooking his thumbs beneath his mask to lift it from his face. "Yes, good."

Malcom had told you that years ago, that there was a fire at the Heelshire house.

You saw the flames in the rippled scar tissue that was spread across the right half of Brahms' face.

"Bad?" He shook beneath you, eyes welling with tears. "I look...bad?"

"No," you said, cupping his scarred cheek. The silvery skin was smooth. Even with the burn, he was handsome. The soft curls. His bright eyes. The strong jawline. You brushed your mouth against his, feeling his warm breath on your face. "You've been a very good boy."

At your praise, he crushed his lips to yours - the action hungry and desperate as his wet tongue probed your mouth.

"Been," he panted in between breaths, bunching his hand in your hair. "I've been wanting to taste you."

You rocked your hips against his groin, causing him to moan against your mouth.

"Well?" You said, sinking your teeth at the hollow of his neck. "What do you think?"

"More," he gasped, his hands moving to the waistband of your shorts. "I want, ah, I want more of you."

Quickly, you slipped your shorts and underwear, tossing it aside.

Once you finally discarded your shirt, he marveled at the sight of your naked form.

"Please," he begged, his fingers pressing into your hips. His eyes were glazed with desire. "I want to...taste you."

Not wanting to deny him, you lifted yourself so that your thighs hovered above his face.

"Thank you," he said, his strong arms wrapping around you before pulling your pussy to his mouth.

You grabbed the headboard for stability as his cold tongue desperately lapped at your clit. When you tried to pull away, shuddering at the intensity of his hunger, Brahms only tightened his hold on you.

"I want," he stammered against your wetness. "I want you to, ah, say...say my name."

"Fuck," you grabbed his hair as your hips bucked against his mouth.

He groaned, his tongue exploring your slit. Thighs shaking, you had his name pressed against your teeth.

"Brahms," you whined, fucking yourself against his tongue. "I need more."

"Mm," he nodded as he traced small circles around your clit, your core tightening as the climax shuddered through you.

You moaned his name, thighs twitching with aftershocks until you leaned back and fell over beside him.

Next to you, he wiped at the slick on his face and licked it off his fingers, relishing the taste of you.

After a moment, he rolled to face you.

"The sounds you made," he murmured, hands roaming to your thighs. "So pretty," he continued, making the pads of his fingers wet with your honey. "Let me hear them."

You gasped as he slid two fingers into your warmth, feeling yourself stretch to accommodate him. It had been a long time since you had been touched like this, and all you could do was rock against him, your body still sensitive from the orgasm you had a few minutes earlier.

"Brahms," you clawed at his shirt, panting. "I want to make you feel good."

"Okay," he said softly, leaning back against the bed.

"Take off your shirt," you directed. Obediently, he slipped off his cardigan and top, revealing a lean chest covered in dark, curly hair.

"Cute," you said, straddling him, feeling the length of his excitement against your thigh.

"You think...I'm cute?" He blushed, raising a hand to cover his face.

It was so strange to think that he was almost frightening earlier this night, but so pliable for you now.

"So cute," you took his hand away from his face so you could kiss him deeply, your hips rocking slowly against his.

Against your mouth, he whimpered at the friction.

"It feels good," he groaned. The sound of it was almost guttural, like a growl. "More," he begged. "Please." He dug his fingers into your hips, grinding you against his cock.

"Brahms," you took his hands in yours. "Be a good boy and take the rest off."

With a nod, he slipped off his pants, revealing a rock-hard erection.

"Oh," you said, marveling at the size of it. "What a pretty thing." You teased, rubbing the tip along your seam. "Can you feel how wet I am for you?"

"Please," he panted, almost whining. "I'll be good. Just...let me take you."

You groaned as his head met your slick clit. "But you're being so good for me right now," you told him, bracing yourself against his chest as you teased him near your entrance.

"Please!" He cried, taking your hips and slamming you against his cock.

You gasped at the length of him, but you could barely brace yourself as he started bucking into you hard.

"I've been bad," he said, wrapping an arm around you to secure you to his body. His breath was hot against your chest as he bounced you.

"But I can be good for you," he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking on it gently as he worked at it with his tongue.

"Brahms," you moaned, grabbing his curls as he fucked you relentlessly.

"I want you," he licked. "I want you all to myself." His arms tightened around you.

You couldn't help but churn your hips against his. Fuck, it felt good.

You bit your lip as your core tightened. You were about to come.

"Kiss me," he growled, and you brought your mouth to his as the climax rocked through the both of you. Thighs shaking, you could feel him twitch inside of you.

With a sigh, he loosened his hold on you and you leaned against his chest.

"Was I...good?" He asked once his breathing began to slow, his voice quiet.

"Did I do good for you?"

You gave him a peck on the cheek - although from the look on his face, it seemed like he wanted more.

"It was amazing," you told him.

Eyes wet with tears, he wrapped his arms around you. "D-don't ever l-leave me," he said. "I don't...ever want you to leave me."

"Shush," you pressed a finger to his lips. "I don't know where you got that idea," you said, bringing your mouth to his neck. "I think I'd like to have you to myself for a long time."

[unclewaynemunson]

Steve believes he was meant to stay in Hawkins forever. College should've been his ticket out and it wasn't. And now, he can't really picture himself going anywhere else anymore. It's his home, even if everyone else keeps leaving. It starts with Robin and Nancy, both off to college in the summer of '86. Then the younger kids follow, three years later, all destined for great things and big nerdy science careers. And Steve knows for a fact that Eddie will leave, too, sooner rather than later. All the desolated rooms in his parents’ big house will become even emptier than before, now that they’re marked with the memories of how they were once filled with laughter and good company.

So yeah, when Eddie announces on his 25th birthday that he can't stay with his uncle forever and that he's been saving up to get his own place in Indianapolis, it doesn't come as a surprise for Steve.

'I wanna ask you something, but you can say no,' Eddie continues. He sounds oddly earnest. They're sitting on the porch of the trailer, cross-legged opposite of each other. 'Do you wanna come with me?'

'Come with you - as in, move to - to Indy?' Steve stammers, thinking he either misheard or misunderstood what Eddie was saying.

But Eddie nods.

'What would I be doing in Indy?'

Eddie shrugs. 'I dunno. Maybe Family Video can relocate you. Or you could, like, reinvent yourself.' He hesitates, then continues, 'I mean, what's left for you in Hawkins, really? I know you wanted to stay here as long as the kids were still around, but now... What's keeping you here?'

He's right, of course. To Steve, Hawkins has become just as empty as those rooms in his parents' house.

Eddie leans closer towards Steve. 'Wanna know a secret?' he asks, his eyes wide and almost glowing in the light of the setting sun. 'I was planning on leaving years ago. But I didn't wanna go without you.'

Steve’s heart skips a beat; he doesn’t know what to say.

'Indy's only two hours away, man,’ he blurts out after a few seconds of silence.

'One hour, if you drive like me.' Eddie shrugs, a smile on his face - but the look in his eyes is anything but casual as he continues to say, 'Still one hour too far away from you.'

Steve can't stop the most enormous smile from appearing on his face at those words. He stretches out his hand, gently touches the skin of Eddie's knee that's poking through the tear in his black jeans.

'Alright, I'll come with you,' he says. 'Wouldn't want you to miss me that much, that'd be cruel.'

Eddie snickers, slowly shakes his head while dodging Steve’s gaze. 'Whatever you say, big boy,’ he says. ‘Are you sure?'

Steve nods. ‘Yeah.’ He doesn’t even really have to think about it; it simply feels right, somewhere deep down in his gut. ‘I’m sure. I wanna come with you.’

A couple of months later, they’re both ready to relocate. Steve soon finds out that the city means freedom, anonymity, new people, new goals in life; a fresh start in every single way. It also means growing closer to Eddie in a whole new way, something which feels brand new and familiar all at once. Steve can’t get enough of it, and he knows for a fact that he always wants to be wherever Eddie is.

After Robin graduates, she makes Indianapolis her new home as well, and it doesn't take long before Nancy joins them there. Even some of the younger kids find their way to the city a few years later.

Indianapolis fits Steve and Eddie perfectly, from the adventurous years in the city center to the quieter times after they reach thirty and get a family of their own to raise in the greener outskirts of town. And after all that time, Steve finally learns that home doesn't depend on where your memories are - it's the place where you're making new ones.

[trueangel420]

Tate Langdon angsty, you died in the murder house after finding out what Tate did (rlly rllyyy short) ౨ৎ

“did you get enough love my little dove why do you cry”

“tell me I’m good. Tell me we’re good,” Tate murmured, his eyes shut, a slight hint of hesitation in his voice. He was on top of you, laying on your chest, his body shaking slightly. "Tell me you won’t think of me differently. Tell me it’s okay.” He confessed that he did in fact kill those kids, he shot up the school , he died in your room, he wasn't alive, he was a monster—a monster. He felt as though all the feelings of that day were drowning him once again.

“I’m good, right? I’m not a bad person, right?” he continued, his voice muffled as he spoke into your chest. You had known Tate for so long, so very long, and he had never been this torn. A part of you knew morally it was wrong, but another part of you knew he he was a troubled boy, he felt things deeper than most. “You’re good, Tate. You’re good,” you whispered into his brown hair, your hands rubbing circles on his back. “You’re a good boy, Tate.” His body tensed, and he looked up at you, his eyes watery and tired. “No, no, I’m not. I’m evil, and... don’t talk to me like that, like ….” he said, his voice strained. He looked at you, shifting up, his arms on your sides. “I’m a monster, a monster.”

“No—” He covered your mouth with his large palm, tears still brimming in his eyes as he spoke. “No, you don’t know. You think just because I’m crying on you, I’m not a monster?” His strength overpowered you, and he managed to pin you down just enough so you couldn’t move, keeping his hand firmly over your mouth. “My brother, my stepdad, people at the school—“ he continued, listing the people he’d hurt, people he couldn’t save. "Y-you," he stuttered. Your eyes widened in shock when you heard him. He looked paler, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he stared down at you. “I tried to save you, I tried to...” His voice was weak, but he kept your mouth covered. You didn’t try to speak; you just looked at him as you always did, so full of love—for a ‘monster’.

“I didn’t get there in time. You—“

You were lying in the tub by the time he found you, and he felt ashamed. He was always in that house, trapped by malevolent forces, and yet he couldn’t save you from the same fate. You were the only good thing in his life, the light, and now it was tainted. He still loved you so deeply. He panicked having to clean up your body and put it somewhere safely, he loved you so much that he cleaned the bloodied bathtub. When your ghost-like figure stayed there, he carried you up to your room, brushing the hair off your forehead.

He knew about your depression and self-harm; he was the same way, if not worse. So why couldn’t he save you? “Tate, it’s not your fault,” you said, muffled into his palm. He was crying frantically now, his grip on you loosening. You moved his hand off your mouth and repeated it again, which only made him shudder more.

“It’s my fault,” he muttered.

“You saved me,” you uttered those simple words. He saved you. He saved you from yourself, from being alone, from your shitty life and shitty parents in this shitty new place you never wanted to be in. You knew eventually you’d die—as morbid as it was, you knew it—and it was never Tate's fault, could never be his fault. He was your light, your darkness too, and that made you love him all the more.

“I should’ve watched you more closely,” you hushed him, running your fingers gently through his messy hair. “I love you.” The words poured out with unwavering confidence, a part of you certain that you would spend an eternity with him. “W-what?” A single tear rolled down his cheek, and his face flushed as he stared at you in disbelief. “Forever, Tate. Forever.” He laid his head back on your chest, still trembling with quiet sobs. “I love you too,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Forever”

[raineandsky]

If you're taking requests, could I request a hero x villain thing where the villain wakes up in the hero's house, totally confused, and he tries to ambush her when she arrives with food? (She has telekinetic abilities, which helps with a lot. I imagine her house would look like the Burrow from Harry Potter - a bunch of things fixing themselves and all that.) But if you aren't taking requests, feel free to ignore this. I've got plenty of your lovely stuff to read. :)

im sorry this is so late!! thank you for the request, i enjoyed this one :)

When the villain finally regains consciousness, the first thing he notices is the scratchy blanket thrown over him. The second thing he notices, when he opens his eyes, is that the blanket is not his. Nor is the house he’s in.

It’s a world away from his home downtown—a low coffee table sits next to the little sofa he’s on, decorated with thick books that have clearly never been read and a blue vase that’s collecting more dust than flowers. The low afternoon sun streams in through wide windows and envelopes the table and chairs in the corner in a warm orange, the speckled colours of a light catcher draping over the woollen rug nearby. The villain wishes he lived in a place like this, but he’d never dream of being civilian enough to need it.

He has no recollection of getting here. Where was he last? Did he get entangled with a civilian somewhere? What the hell did he do to end up here?

The villain is so caught up in scraping his memory for a clue that he doesn’t hear the door squeaking open behind him. What he does hear is the gentle “oh, good, you’re—”

Now, panic is not a good look on a villain. But frankly, waking up in an unfamiliar home and being faced with a stranger that is approaching from behind gives the villain some instincts that’ve probably saved his life more than once.

He lurches up from the sofa with a snarl, earning a rather startled yelp from the newcomer and toppling the coffee table vase to the floor. The blanket he’d attempted to throw off in his attack has curled itself around him like a snake, and he gets no further than the back of the sofa before it trips him over.

“Oh, sorry!” the person says lightly. “That was a little more intense than I intended, but I suppose I wasn’t expecting you to leap at me either.”

The villain, trying not to let onto his embarrassment at this turn of events, glances up. A hero, one he kind of recognises, is holding a tray upside-down and looking back at him. No, actually, the tray isn’t upside-down. The villain is just on the floor.

“That won’t help you heal,” she continues with a short laugh. “Come on, lets get you back on the sofa.”

The villain goes to throw himself at her with nothing but his nails, but the blanket is wrapped around him unnaturally tight. The hero settles on the armchair opposite as it curls around his shoulders, hefting him to his feet before shoving him back onto the sofa.

“What the hell is going on?” is all the villain can think to say.

The hero smiles brightly, unbothered, and sets her tray on the coffee table between them before turning her attention to her shattered vase. “You were a little worse for wear by the time I got to you,” she offers unhelpfully. “Honestly, I was a little worried. You’ve been out for some time.”

The villain watches blankly as the vase picks itself up off the floor, hovering a few inches off the ground to meticulously piece itself back together. None of it would’ve clicked if he didn’t clock the hero staring at it like it’ll disappear the moment she looks away.

“You’re telekinetic,” he says flatly.

The hero turns back to him as the vase sets itself back on the coffee table. Its perfect presentation slips as the hero lets go of it, several pieces sliding out of formation and dropping to the table. “Maybe.”

She gives him a coy smile. The blanket still has a tight hold of him, keeping him sat on the much too comfortable sofa. The sun is moving, throwing some of her face into wild yellows that brighten her face more than a hero deserves. God, the villain hates all of this.

“You got a bad wound in your battle.” The hero gestures to her side vaguely. “You need time to recover, so I would suggest you stay here until you’re better.”

“I’d much rather be at home than trapped here with you,” the villain snaps.

“Oh.” The hero tilts her head in a way that the villain knows isn’t genuine. “Well, you shouldn’t move around too much. Do you have someone at home who can look after you?”

The bitter silence that follows brings another smug smile to her lips. “Then you’ll stay here,” she says after a moment. “My house will make sure of it.”

“Can you tell your house to lay off? Your blanket is trying to strangle me.”

The hero laughs brightly, and as she does the blanket’s vice-like grip loosens slightly. “I brought you some breakfast, by the way.” She gestures to the tray, which the villain now notices has a bowl of soup and several pieces of bread on it. “It’s proven difficult to feed someone that’s unconscious, so please do make sure you eat something.”

She gets to her feet before the villain can think of anything to dispute her. “I’m just going to clean up in the kitchen. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” She points to the tray. “I expect that to have gone down when I get back.”

With one last smile she turns on her heel and lets herself out.

The villain stares at the closed door for a moment before turning his gaze back to the steaming bowl in front of him. For god’s sake, it does smell good. He takes it in his lap, nabbing a piece of bread with him and dunking it into the soup.

The vase is slowly disintegrating, pieces dropping out of place every-so-often. The villain watches it like entertainment as he eats, but eventually it starts to get on his nerves. A quick scavenge of the hero’s drawers finds him a tiny tube of glue.

All of this is a pain in the ass. At least this gives him something to do with his hands.

[rosellacwrites]

I wanna be someone who believes

summary: Dieter knows it when he sees it.

pairings: Dieter Bravo x Reader

rating: teen maybe? I never know what to call this shit if it isn’t smutty 🤣

warnings: reader is a real estate agent and uses she/her pronouns but is otherwise undescribed; gratuitous use of double negatives; Dieter being Dieter

word count: 1650 (oops)

author’s note: posting late but written for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May Drabble Challenge — the prompt was a meet-cute with “Do you believe in aliens?” Please be kind, I’ve never written for any of the Pedro boys before 🫣

Happy reading! ❤️

dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Please,” she coaxes you over the phone. “I’ll owe you big time.”

This is not the first time you’ve heard this from her, and you sigh. “What?”

“I need you to cover a big buyer for me this weekend. Dave got some kind of crazy deal through work, and he wants to take me to Cabo for the weekend, and my in-laws actually agreed to take the kids for once, but this is the only weekend he’s gonna be in LA between projects and I swear to God I’ll make it up to you, I’ll take your biggest pain in the ass buyer off your hands — “

“Danielle.” You take a sip of your coffee and rub the spot between your eyebrows. “Who is it?”

She takes a deep breath on the other end. “Okay — hear me out — he’s not quite as wild and crazy as you hear, more like… sexy eccentric? And the budget is good, all cash, I’ll send you his proof of funds — “

“Danielle,” you growl. “Who. Is. It.”

There’s a beat of silence, before she speaks. “… it’s Dieter. Dieter Bravo.”

“Are you fucking with me right now?” She’s your best friend in the industry, and you’ve watched her build her business, a solid roster of low-key celebrity clients who can trust her discretion, but this — this is the big time. “You really want to take a referral on this one?”

“It’ll be a healthy referral,” she points out. “He’s looking at five to seven, but he’s willing and able to go to eight for the right property. He won’t buy sight unseen, though — he’s gotta visit them all. The vibes, you know.”

You’re mentally calculating two and a half percent of eight million, minus referral, and you like what you’re coming up with, maybe even enough to genuinely enjoy this. “God save me from the vibes. Okay. Fine,” you say, exhaling. “I’ll do it — does he have a short list already?”

It’s her turn to sigh. “Vibes.”

“Vibes,” you echo, shaking your head. “Got it. Have fun in Cabo, you lucky bitch.”

“Have fun with Dieter,” she sing-songs. “You lucky bitch.”

*

As soon as you set eyes on him for the first time, you know you will. Everything about Dieter Bravo proclaims the fun kind of trouble, like sunshine that didn’t mean to burn you.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he greets you, looking like he just rolled out of bed and wants nothing more than to get back in it, preferably with you. “Do you come with the house?”

“Only when the earth moves,” you retort sweetly.

He looks stunned for a moment, and then the grin breaks over his face like sunrise and he laughs, long and loud. “I like you,” he proclaims. “Danielle said I would.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” His laughter is contagious, and you can’t help liking him too. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Bravo.”

“Babe,” he says, looking pained, and you belatedly remember what Danielle had told you.

“Dieter,” you correct yourself, and he beams.

“That’s more like it,” he says cheerfully.

His assistant materializes from somewhere behind him, handing you a stack of papers. “Standard NDA,” they say. “I’m sure you understand.”

Dieter groans. “Do we have to do this?”

“I’m not offended, I promise.” You smile at him, and start to skim over the contract. It’s all fairly standard stuff, really, apart from the alien invasion bit inserted neatly into the force majeure clause. But it’s not the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen turn up in a legal document — this is Hollywood, after all — and you shrug, and sign.

“Amazing!” Dieter claps his hands like a child. “Let’s go buy a fucking house!”

*

Six showings later, you’re exhausted, your feet are killing you, and Dieter’s assistant looks as fried as you feel.

“Food?” Dieter asks hopefully. “Or weed? Or both?”

“I’m not feeling great,” his assistant says, rubbing their forehead. “I’m starting a migraine. Dieter, do you think you can manage without me for the afternoon?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be fine.” Dieter waves a hand dismissively. “Go sleep it off.” He turns to you, and before he can say anything else, you nod and lead him away.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re seated at a tucked-away patio table at your favorite cafe, and Dieter’s looking much more relaxed, sunglasses pushed haphazardly up into his hair. “How’d you meet Danielle, anyway?” you ask him over the rim of your matcha latte.

“Hit on her in a club in West Hollywood,” he admits. “She was like ‘haha I totally would if I weren’t married, but hey, do you want to buy a house instead?’”

You can’t help laughing. “Yeah. That’s on brand.”

“It was fate,” he says. “Because I did want to buy a house, I just didn’t know it until she said it.”

“All that Cliff Beasts money burning a hole in your pocket?”

“I’m sick of hotels.” He shrugs, looking almost serious for once. “I travel all the fucking time, but — I want someplace I can come home to, you know?”

“Yeah. I do.” You look down at your drink and smile, toying with the already-disintegrating paper straw. “It’s such a stressful job sometimes, and the money’s not as great as everyone thinks it is, but when I can make that perfect match for someone, and I see their face light up when they walk in because they’re finally home — there’s nothing like it.”

“Yeah?” When you glance back up, he’s giving you the softest look you’ve ever seen, and it makes you wonder what his agent could possibly be thinking. The genuine sweetness he radiates is made for rom-coms, not half-assed action flicks. “Well, I’m glad you’re the one matchmaking for me.”

“Me too,” you say softly, your eyes locked with his, and you realize as you say it that it’s true.

It’s hard to remember that you’re working; you’re having more fun with Dieter than you have on any of the actual dates you’ve had recently. You linger at the table far longer than you should, talking about everything and nothing.

Finally, you crack, leaning forward and resting your elbows on the table. “I gotta ask,” you begin, and you see him tense, just slightly. “Do you believe in aliens?” He looks at you quizzically, clearly not expecting the conversation to take that particular turn. “It’s in your NDA. Alien invasion is one of the situations that gets me out of the contract.”

“Oh, I never read that shit.” He yawns and stretches, and you get an eyeful of his tummy when his shirt rides up. You try not to look — you’re sure there’s something in the realtor’s code of ethics about not ogling your clients, even if they are celebrities — but it’s impossible to look away from all that freckled golden skin. “But… I don’t not believe in aliens, you know? Who knows what the fuck’s out there? My lawyers know better than to leave my ass in the wind.”

“Fair enough, and I appreciate the loophole.” You shrug. “If aliens landed on the roof during one of our showings, you bet your ass I’d be calling TMZ real fast.”

“And I’d support that. Get your bag, babe.” He grins at you. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

You consider your next words very carefully. “I don’t not want to have sex with you,” you admit, and his face lights up. “But I have to do my job, first.”

“Okay, so let’s go do your job and get it out of the way.” He stands up, all business for the first time all day, and extends a hand to you. His hands are warm, slightly calloused, and big, and you find yourself praying that he gets good vibes from this last one.

“I’ve saved the best for last,” you tell him. “I think you’re gonna love this one. It’s been on for a while, and they just knocked the price down to seven-four. I think if you offered a little low, they’d take it.”

“What’s the vibe?” he asks.

“Think Zen, but casual about it. It was built ten years ago, but it feels a little seventies in a good way — lots of stone, warm wood, skylights. Indoor-outdoor living. There’s a koi pond that goes under the house.”

“Funky,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Go on.”

“Separate guest wing with kitchen, ideal for live-in staff — yoga room with adjoining massage area — detached guest house with art studio potential — “ you recite. He’s weakening by the minute, you can see it. “Pool and hot tub, of course — there’s like a waterfall thing, it’s pretty cool — “ His eyes go all dreamy and you know, you just know, he’s thinking about having sex there.

Almost there, you think; it’s time for the clincher. “Six minutes to the Whole Foods on Sepulveda.”

He whistles, reluctantly impressed. “That’s the good one.”

“It is indeed.” You nod sagely.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he groans, tugging you by the hand he’s still holding. “Let’s go.”

*

A few weeks later, you surface to the sound of your phone ringing.

“Can you look and tell me who’s calling?” you call out, hooking your elbows over the side of the pool. “I’m all wet.”

Dieter wiggles his eyebrows at you and answers the call. “Hey, babe,” he says. “How was Cabo? Did you get pregnant?” He laughs. “Yeah, yeah — she knows I have her phone. She’s in the pool.”

“Tell Danielle I’ll call her back,” you shout.

“Yeah, she found me the perfect house,” Dieter says, ignoring you. “It’s fucking awesome. Moved in last week — you should come over and hang. Bring the kids. There’s this koi pond — ” He pauses for a moment to listen to her, and you shake your head fondly.

“Dee,” you warn. “Get off my phone.”

“You were right, you know,” he tells Danielle, grinning and blowing a kiss at you. “I liked her.”

Thanks to @freelancearsonist and @reallyrallyauthor for convincing me this was worth posting 😂

[le-92vi]

It's You and Me (Part 2)

Suguru Geto x Reader

Genres/Warnings: hs!suguru, biker!suguru, fem!reader, academic weapon!reader, mostly fluff and banter, v little angst.

Word Count: 3.3k

When your highschool crush moves across the street from you, there's not much option other than befriending him. Especially, when he's the one suggesting it.

Notes: It's me! I'm back, hello.

(Part 1)

----

You had to admit that being around Suguru was easy.

He just had this way of making people around him so comfortable, so heard. And him being a year senior to you came as an additional perk.

He'd help you with your projects and assignments whenever he had the time to spare. His well-polished reputation among teachers at school gave you a free pass to many things you couldn't get, even as the top student of your grade.

He'd introduced you and Maki to his other cool, senior friends, often sitting with you during lunch. Let you know about upcoming events and competitions, grabbing you all the extra credits for the perfect final grade.

Your high school life was passing by like a breeze.

And, if he insisted on helping you to make it easier, who were you to say no?

In turn, you'd treat him with your mom's delicious food all the time. It was a win-win situation for both of you.

Your families--especially your mothers--had grown closer too, they were practically always hanging together, save for the time they went to work. It was like your mom was back in her teenage years with her best friend. And oddly enough, you'd always be reminded of Maki when you saw them.

Everything had progressed into the present so, so naturally, it was almost scary. It had always been an object of your fascination how humans formed bonds with each other so easily and then lived to protect them forever.

"Wait," You placed your fork down in disbelief, "So, you went to school together?"

"We did!" Suguru's mom chuckled at your astonished face. She and Suguru were over for the afternoon, just a small lunch get-together, planned out by your lovely mom. "Sadly, I had to move away after for my final year. My parents wouldn't hear a no."

"That's crazy." You were unsure of how to process the piece of information you were presented. You turned to look at Suguru, who was nonchalantly still indulging in his food. "You knew?"

He looked up from his plate, cocking an eyebrow, "I just assumed they knew each other from somewhere, not that they were already friends. I would've never guessed that one!"

"Right? I mean, what are the chances of moving across your best friend from high school?" You mused.

"Well, It was hardly a coincidence," Your mom chimed in, amused by your antics. "We did keep in touch after she moved away, honey. How old do you think we are? We had emails."

"Yeah, and we had been planning to move back here, sooner or later." Mrs. Geto spoke. "Suguru's eventually leaving for college, so we thought a little change wouldn't hurt."

"And by little, she means 30 more minutes of commute to school every day," Suguru contorted his face playfully at his mother, earning a slap on the shoulder.

"We did ask for your opinion, mister!" She defended herself.

And, so the lunchtime chit-chat continued. But your mind stayed hung up on that one sentence.

Suguru is eventually leaving for college.

He won't forever be your next-door neighbor who helps you with homework and brings you to get takeout with his friends. He won't be at your house for these little luncheons soon enough. And, he won't be around to hang out with you forever, soon enough.

Of course, he would visit when he had time and you could talk on the phone, but you knew things wouldn't be the same once he left for college. He'd have a completely new life there. Would he even want you to be a part of it? Would he call? Would he have any time to think of you, or his friends?

Would you ever see him again, after he moves for college?

As his (secret) admirer, it was a painful realization, but more so as his friend.

A mere, off-handed comment hit you like an arrow, straight to the heart. You didn't even realize how much a single sentence could affect you, until Suguru shook you by the shoulder, jolting you awake from your daydream, "Where are you?" He looked at you with a slightly confused expression, wondering what you were so lost in thought about. "You said the other day you wanted help with your physics assignment?"

You were--evidently-- not used to dealing with a situation like this.

When you realized Suguru was your next-door neighbor, you were repulsed by the idea of it, the first thing. You liked him. Maybe it was even enough to call it a crush but, feelings are scary, man! Constantly seeing him around would only accelerate your feelings for him.

You didn't want that. You couldn't be distracted. You wouldn't let him distract you. And, certainly, you wouldn't become one for him, either.

"I think I told Maki I'd call her." you brushed off his question.

***

"Yes, but now I don't Iike him like that anymore…" you were plopped on your bed, on a call with your one and only.

Suguru had left earlier to meet up with his friends. You'd pass on the offer, saying you had homework to complete, which was partially true.

You turned around to lay on your stomach, head resting against your free hand, ranting like she was your therapist, "I just don't understand why I'm acting this way, Maki"

"Didn't you just say, you don't like him like that? I don't see the problem?" She spoke calmly. She always did.

Even if you cried to her about the most random stuff, she'd always listen to you and never judge you for it. Well maybe, she did judge you a little but that's just what friends are for. "Have you considered the possibility that you're still not completely over him and want him to be around longer?"

You hummed in response, repeating after her. "Umm, I'm not sure where you are trying to go with this, but it's not that."

"I think you're just confused. You used to like him, but now that you actually know him he's not your type, so you're just confused." She finished, emphasizing the last part.

"You sound experienced." You chuckled, trying to get a rise out of her.

And, just as if she could see right through you. She cleared her throat, "We are not doing this again," putting on her sternest voice.

***

"Did you miss the bus?" Suguru inquired as he straddled his bike across the street.

"Looks like it," Your hands shot up with dejection.

What could you do?

Both your parents were off to their offices right before you rushed off to school, yourself. "I swear I was out on time."

"I can't believe I get to witness a sight like this, Ms. Perfect missing her bus to school." Suguru snickered as he got off his bike to walk back inside his garage.

He's been hanging out with Maki too much.

You were already crossing over to his house when he emerged from the garage with a skating helmet. "That won't protect my head from a truck," you chuckle.

"Might protect the truck, who knows?" He shrugged. "Who knew there'd come a time that you'd need a ride? I would've been prepared."

He placed the helmet on your head and buckled it securely before revving up the bike's engine, "Hop on," He patted the seat.

With a sigh you climbed his bike, sitting behind him. Your hands gripped a part of the seat behind you to find some sort of balance.

This was as nerve-wracking as it was new to you. Sitting on a bike.

On Suguru Geto's bike!

"What are we waiting for?" You turned to get a look at his face, which was shielded with a helmet.

"You'll fall off if you sit like that," he commented, pushing his visor down.

"How else am I supposed to sit on a bike, then, Suguru?" You sounded annoyed, as you stole a glance at your wristwatch. You were already late. "I'd be really thankful if you get us to school on time."

"I know, so just hold onto me, or something." He turned around to look at you with his visors still blocking you from getting a look at his face. You couldn't make out from his tone if he was getting annoyed at you, or laughing.

"I'm entrusting you with my life. Is that not enough?"

"Oh my god! Just hold onto me. It's not that deep!"

"Alright!" your hands snaked around his waist, awkwardly unsure of how to be. Sure, you were friends but friends don't get a feel of each others' waists, do they? Do you rest your palm against his abdomen, or do you hold your hands in front of him?

Your mind wreaked as you fidgeted with your hands.

Suguru must've noticed.

He removed his hands from the bike and placed them on yours. He crossed your arms flat around his waist, so you were practically back-hugging him now.

You could feel each and every crevice of his abdomen, and it was messing with your brain. His hand rested on top of yours until he was sure you wouldn't take them off anymore.

You could smell his cologne and his shampoo from how close you were to him. You felt a small laugh vibrate through his body as he revved the engine one last time and finally made his way to school.

You were definitely late.

***

You were completely zoned out when the teacher called your name for the third time.

"I get that it's been a long day. I do, but--" She closed her textbook with a sigh, seeing the drowsy and listless bunch sitting in front of her. "Let's end the class here for today."

And, without missing a beat, the whole class was up and about their businesses for lunch. The teacher shook her head, half in disbelief and half in mirth.

You were packing your stuff to leave as well when the teacher tapped on your desk to get your attention, "Would it be possible for you to drop by the library and get these books for me?" She slid a piece of paper towards you.

Noticing how short the list was, you agreed, "Sure, Ms. Seige. I can drop them off by the end of the lunch break."

You folded the paper, tucked it in your pocket, and bid her goodbye.

You looked at your wristwatch and, noticed that you had a good twenty minutes before lunch began. You could still enjoy with your friends if you quickly dropped off the books in time and rushed to the lunch hall.

Not that fifty minutes for a lunch break was a short time, but you hadn't seen any of them all day, except Suguru, of course.

You greeted Shoko with a hug and handed her the piece of paper with the list of books your teacher wanted, along with a few snacks you had picked for her on your way. She had been a huge help to you for most of the year in finding all the books you were asked to gather by your teachers, being the student in charge of the library.

"Who is it this time?" She unfolded the list, flat on the table.

"Ms. Seige. Physics." You dropped your bag by her chair, as you watched her type away on her computer and scribble some things on the list.

"Oh! She's a good one." She turned in her seat and remarked, as she handed you the list.

"That's rare- you praising a teacher," You chuckled.

"She deserves it," She shrugged, turning back to her work. "Do me a favor and, drag Suguru on your way back. He should be somewhere in the back. Let's get lunch together. I'll text the others."

It was flabbergasting and borderline frustrating how Suguru was so effortlessly smart. "Does he ever attend any of his classes?"

"None that I know of."

"Must be nice…" You muttered to yourself, as you wandered off to find him and your books.

***

Suguru was cooped up in a small corner of the library, sitting-- rather leaning the upper half of his body against the bookshelf. From the looks of it, he must've been in that position for a while. Just looking at his stance made you question everything you knew about him.

How was he sitting-- laying, whatever he was doing-- in that position? What about the book captivated him so much, that he was torturing his back like that?

You quickly slipped your phone out and clicked a picture to show the others later. Placing the books on the nearest table, you slowly crept up behind him, mostly to give him a scare, but you were also very much intrigued by his novel's contents.

A little detour and you were practically breathing down his neck. But, the guy still hadn't a clue.

You were able to easily read into his book from where you were standing.

Touch me, tease me. Feel me up.

Two sentences were enough for you to understand what captured Suguru's undivided attention.

"So you were actually into friction, not fiction!" You mock-whispered in his ear, with every intention to give him a jump scare.

And boy, did it work!

Suguru's shoulder, which supported most of his body weight against the bookshelf, slid from the sudden shock. "What the-- OUch!" He was flat on the ground in a matter of seconds. Yet, that didn't stop him from concealing his book at the sight of you. "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

You tried your best to not break into a burst of laughter as you stood straighter, towering above him. "Nothing,"

"Why would you creep up on me like that?" He brushed off his clothes, still trying to tuck away his book. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, all flustered and unmoving. A bright red tinge rose on his neck, face, and ears. He was so red he could qualify as a traffic light.

All you wanted to do was pull out your phone and click another picture, but you decided to spare him the torment. One embarrassing picture in the group chat was enough to rid him of his sleep for a few months. Gojo and Shoko would never let him live this down.

"Oh, come on! Don't act like you wouldn't," You grinned, unable to hold back anymore. You held out your arm towards him, "Be grateful that it was me."

He grabbed your hand as he hoisted himself up. "Did you," he sighed, "read any of it?"

He looked like he was on the verge of tears. One wrong move, and you'd be the first reason Suguru ever let his emotions win.

Your face turned blank, almost mirroring his. But, you'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying teasing him. He wouldn't be upset with you if you told him the truth, right?

That just wasn't like Suguru.

Right?

The corners of your lips curled up into a ghost of a smile, as you looked up at him through your lashes, "Touch me, tease me, feel me up?"

His hands immediately flew to his face, covering up any expression,

"Oh my god!" he whined.

You burst into laughter once again at his unexpected timid behavior. "Suguru," You seized his hands away from his face, "That's all I read. I promise."

His lips turned into a sheepish smile, finally looking at you, "This had to stay between us. Forever!" His hands swung side-to-side, and so did yours, holding onto his as he whined.

You drew your hands back, cringing at his coyness. You had never seen him act like that, and it was kind of creepy. You had to admit.

"Ugh," You mindlessly reacted. "Why are you acting like this?"

Before he could respond, Shoko yelled from her desk up front, "Guys, it's been FIFTEEN years! It doesn't take that long to find three books and a guy!"

You rushed to pick up your books at the sound of her voice, but Suguru caught you by your wrist, "I promise I'll bring you to school and back every day. They can't know," He pleaded.

You could tell how serious he was, just by one look at his face, "I won't." You reassured him. You felt slightly disappointed in yourself for teasing him. Just his expression sat like a heavy weight on your chest. You had no idea a little joke would affect him this much. "You don't have to bring me to school every day. It was meant to be a harmless joke, Suguru."

"I know," He stuck his tongue out at you, walking past you and picking up your books. "Let's go."

This bastard.

He was very much aware of the affect he had on you and used it to the best of his advantage. It took you a whole moment to realize that you had been fooled by his stupidly pretty face.

"Suguru!" You followed after him, but he was already dropping off your book with Shoko and running out of the library.

***

"On a school night? Your parents will ambush everyone," Shoko flicked Gojo's forehead, stopping him from stealing her fries.

"But, this would be our last one!" he theatrically caressed his forehead, turning around frantically to persuade everyone. "They're out of town for the weekend, anyways."

"Still, don't you think it's a little short notice?" You blankly stated. But, who were you kidding?

High school kids from your school would sell their souls to attend one Halloween party thrown by THE GOJO SATORU. There was no such thing as "short notice".

You looked at Maki for some sort of sign, and then towards Shoko.

Your eyes didn't dare look in Suguru's direction. You weren't upset with him. Of course not. Yet, you couldn't. He was never one to talk much, unlike Gojo. It was never easy to understand his true feelings.

"You'll come right?" Suguru nudged your shoulder lightly.

"I don't know," You whispered back.

"Please?" He said leaning ever-so-slightly into you. Looking at you the same way you did, in the library, and his head tilted.

Anything Gojo said after that faded into nothingness, as you looked at Suguru's face. Blood rushed through your whole body so furiously, that you could hear your heart beating in your ears. Your face grew uncontrollably hot. Subconsciously, your hands fanned your face and you leaned backward in your seat. That look on his face felt so foreign to you. It was almost like he was playing some sick joke at you.

His smirk grew into a boyish grin. He so knew he could convince you with just a smile. "Hmm?"

You cleared your throat, bringing your focus to your wristwatch. You needed an excuse. Anything. "I have to drop these off," You gathered Ms. Seige's books from the table, as you scrambled to leave.

"I'll go with you-" He began saying, but was cut off by one of his classmates. You were out of earshot but could still make out by the looks of it that she demanded all his attention.

Dissatisfaction greeted with you a warm hug at the sight of him talking to the girl. You hated feeling this way. Why should someone else get to control how you feel? As disappointed as you felt, you didn't let it get to your head. You didn't look back at the group for a second time.

Sure, he could have other friends or girlfriends.

It was none of your business.

Suguru was just a friend to you.

And that's all he'll ever be.

Tags: @mandysfanfics