#pls if they can just pull out a with the power of friendship out of their asses i wouldnt even mind lowk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

megamindsecretlair · 4 months ago

Note

Ur MM fic was soooo good!!! Pls write more of him I beg😭🫶🏾

A/N: no need to beg, you know I got you anon! Make sure to show some love to @planetblaque and @soft-persephone for their MM fics!

Leaving Me Sleepless

Pairing: Neighbor!Mother's Milk x Neighbor!Black!Fem!reader/plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Age gap, more so late 20s/early 30s, but can be read however. Dom Mother's Milk, Cursing, PIV, SMUT, FLUFF, fingering (fem receiving), oral (male and female receiving), D/s elements, Sorry if I missed others. Season 1 MM, no spoilers for the show. Divorced MM. Brat reader. Corruption kink if you squint. Possession Kink. Size kink.

Summary: You were ready to start a new chapter of your life, moving into your first house all by your lonesome. Done with waiting on others to get their lives together, you were finally pursuing the life you wanted. You had everything planned, until you didn’t.

Marvin comes to your rescue, turning a stressful day into something sweet and full of laughs. An easy friendship builds between you. Only you can’t wait any longer to see if this is one sided. You decide to start toying with Marvin, just to see how long it would take him to break.

AO3 Link

Word count: 10,515k

A/N: I don't know what it is about this man. But enjoy my brainrot! Love him dowwwnnn. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

It wasn’t your intention to toy with your hot neighbor, Marvin. When you moved in, you were prepared to do it all yourself. You got a moving company to help you pack up your shit from your ex-boyfriend’s house. You successfully transferred your utilities to your new place, leaving that broke motherfucker with no power for a weekend. You were on top of it.

Okay, so not everything was so smooth. You got a flat tire on the freeway, the moving van wrote down your address wrong, and when you arrived at your new place, no moving truck to be found, you had a breakdown about it. To be fair, it was a hard and emotional day. This was the first time you bought a house, did it by yourself, and you were nervous as hell.

Your family wasn’t the most supportive. They kept asking you if you were sure you were ready and what were you going to do with that big house to yourself? As if finally having some alone time and gaining safety for the first time in your life was a bad thing. So not having the moving truck at your new place was like an ill omen.

You started to doubt yourself. What would you do with a house to yourself? You were responsible for everything now. It was on you to take the trash out, keep up with the lawn and maintenance, cook meals, wash your sheets. The pressure of your decision crushed you to pieces until the dam broke and the tears were falling like crazy.

You hadn’t called the moving truck just yet. You needed time to break down before you pulled yourself together. You were a strong, independent woman and you were going to be okay. Like you always were.

Marvin was just getting home from wherever he spent his time and saw you in front of your new place, standing on the curb and trying hard to hide your crying. You only had a few bags in your car, essential things you knew you didn’t trust with the movers. Smart thinking, but it wasn’t a bed. It wasn’t cookware. It wasn’t anything you needed to have a successful first day in your new place. The sun was losing its heat, traveling across the sky like the moon was on its heels.

Marvin called out to you, walking up like he would single-handedly solve all of your problems. He wore a white T-shirt with the Wu Tang symbol on it. Medium wash jeans and white sneakers. He wore a gold chain as well, complimenting the golden hue of his skin.

He also had a thick beard on his beautiful face. Neat and well-trimmed. But his eyes were the kindest you’d ever seen. In just a few minutes, it’d be easy to fall into the brown depths and never come up for air.

You swiped at your eyes and smiled at him. “I’m okay, I’m fine!” You said, waving him off. Why was it that fine ass men always popped out when you looked like hell? You were currently wearing raggedy blue sweats with mysterious stains all over, some from bleach, paint, or whatever other dirty job needed done. Your lavender shirt had seen better days, the graphic on it cracked and nearly faded away. Your tennis shoes were peeling in one corner, but these were your most comfortable and didn’t want to give them up.

And ugh, your hair. You looked tore up from the floor up and you did not need your neighbor meeting you like this. Why couldn’t he catch you on your way out to the club or out to eat with your friends? You had a new, gorgeous leopard print dress in your moving van, with sexy three hoop gold earrings that were calling your name. Fuck me heels that made your ass look amazing. Why couldn’t he meet you then?

“Is everything alright? Are you sure?” He asked.

God, that voice. You smiled and nodded, clutching your phone for dear life. He needed to move away, now. You wish the neighbors were out when you were scoping the house. If you knew he looked like that, you would have never shown up like this. The embarrassment was killing you.

“I’m okay, Mr…?” You asked.

He smiled. “Call me Marvin, please,” he said.

You introduced yourself. Sexy name matching a sexy man. He was so damn broad and thick. Just how you liked ‘em. But no, no, you promised yourself to focus on you right now. On getting this house set up exactly how you liked it. You weren’t going to have a traditional housewarming party. You weren’t going to invite all that negative energy into your new place. This new period in your life was about you, getting your mental stronger, your life together. Focus on your goals and finally getting started on your lifelong dreams. Nowhere in that plan you dreamt up with your best friend did it include a man.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can help with?” He asked. He sounded and looked so sincere, that your shoulders slumped and you sighed, looking down the street like it would magically conjure the moving truck.

“It’s silly,” you said and rolled your eyes, waving away his concern.

Marvin smiled and tilted his head. “Try me. You’d be doing me a favor actually. I only had plans to go inside, grab a beer, and pig out. You’d be saving me from getting fat and lazy,” he said, patting his stomach. That smile.

You couldn’t help but giggle, checking him out. And letting him know that you were checking him out. “There’s no chance in hell you’d end up fat and lazy,” you told him. He chuckled and rubbed his beard, his thumb swiping at the corner of his mouth.

“You never know. These things add up. And you’re changing the subject,” he said.

You sighed and suppressed a smile. Fine. Fine. You broke down and told him the whole ordeal. That you were moving in and waiting for your truck. Marvin cursed softly, excusing his words, and asked for the number to the movers.

He used his own phone to call them, getting in their asses about taking advantage of you. They knew exactly where your house was and if they weren’t here in thirty minutes, giving you a steep discount for their actions, then he’d report they ass on their website, on social media, and anyone else who’d listen.

Your mouth dropped listening to him. He was in complete control, not taking an ounce of slack from the movers. All of your interactions with them had been cordial, but there were enough times where you thought you were on them too much. You were trying to escape your ex’s house before he came home. You felt like a screaming harpy, telling them to move their ass.

A little bass from a man and suddenly they could hop to. Fucking pigs. When Marvin was done, he smiled. “There, they’ll haul ass now. I’m sorry they did that to you,” he said.

You waved him off. “No way, you’re my hero. I would’ve been arguing for an hour to get them to show up with enough daylight to put things where I need,” you said. The relief you felt was almost indescribable. All thanks to a friendly neighbor. With no wedding ring, you might’ve observed.

“You wanna come inside and wait? I mostly have beer, but maybe some juice? Water?” He asked.

You bit your lip, feeling awkward and gross but he was just so helpful. You didn’t want to give that up just yet. “Are you sure I wouldn’t be a bother?” You asked.

“I promise,” he said.

You nodded. Well, fuck it. You followed him to his place, stepping inside his place hoping for the best. You were blown away actually. His place smelled amazing, light like lemon and something breezy or tropical.

The place was spotless, not a cushion out of place. His living room was nice and spacious, with a thick rug underneath the couch and coffee table. You sat down while Marvin went to grab you some water.

Marvin asked you questions about yourself and you asked him questions about him. You found out he was divorced, amicably, and they shared a beautiful daughter together. He worked with inner city youth at a detention center, keeping knuckleheads from making dumb ass mistakes.

The more he talked, the more you started to see a clearer picture of him. He paid extra care to cleanliness letting you know that he’d never, ever tolerate being in your place. You weren’t a slob, but you weren’t Johnny on the spot either. Sometimes dishes piled up or you lounged in bed all day. You could already see and hear the arguments, the disgusted looks, the pot shots.

You subtly sighed. Too bad. He’d make someone a fine ass husband one day. While you talked, the moving van showed up in record time. You tried saying bye to Marvin, but he insisted on staying to make sure the movers didn’t try to get over on you again.

Thanks to Marvin, the movers moved the heavy shit where it needed to go and brought your boxes to the rooms they were assigned to. You had more than enough time to unpack what you needed tonight, clean out the bathtub and kitchen, so that you could bathe in your new place and cook in your new place.

You offered to cook something for Marvin, but he excused himself, saying he took up enough of your time. He hoped you had a good night and now that you were neighbors, he told you not to be a stranger. He was like a buff fairy godmother and you couldn’t stop thanking him as he left.

“No thanks, necessary. I’m just glad I was around. Did you get a chance to change the locks yet?” He asked.

You shook your head. You hadn’t even thought to do so. “If you buy some new locks, I can install them for you. Get some with a longer latch,” he said.

You stared at him blankly with an adorable smile on your face. “And that means…?” You asked.

Marvin chuckled. “If you like, I’m free tomorrow and we can go to the store. Get some things to make sure you’re safe in here,” he said. He stood in the doorway, framed by a darkening sky. The white shirt glowed against his skin. He looked like an angel. Or maybe that was just your thinking because of how incredible he was.

“I’ve taken up enough of your weekend,” you said, looking down and playing with invisible lint by the door.

Marvin waited until you looked back at him to smile. “You can’t be a bother if I volunteer. Here, take my number, and if you need anything, just call or text. No matter the day or time,” he said.

You took his number and gave him yours, giggling to yourself. “You don’t like me being here all by my lonesome, do you?” You asked.

He chuckled and nodded. “I know, I sound like an old-fashioned old man. You can absolutely take care of yourself. But I’m around, okay?” He asked.

You nodded, thanked him again, and finally let him leave your stoop. You closed and locked the door behind you, leaning back against it, and squealed to yourself. He was an impossible dream. An angel. A hero. Your savior. You’d still be outside crying your eyes out while the movers hemmed and hawed about your most precious possessions.

You daydreamed for a few minutes, letting the crush finally take over. There may never be a future, but he was sweet. And fun. And so caring it hurt.

You threw on some tunes and started dancing around your space, getting the essentials cleaned up that day. You started in the bathroom, the one place you refused to let get dirty. First, because it grossed you out and second, because you liked taking relaxing baths with candles and music.

And so on it went. Marvin did take you to the hardware store the next day, being patient with you and explaining why you needed this or that. Some of the items you genuinely did know about, but he was so adorable explaining things to you. He was patient, never acted put out, and never made you feel dumb for asking so many questions.

Perhaps it was then that it all started. Acting ditzy whenever he came around. Not enough to be obvious. But just so helpless unless he swooped to the rescue. And you always thanked him by calling him your hero, heaping praises on him, and making sure to grip his thick biceps and looking into his eyes as you expressed your gratitude.

As the weeks and months passed, you fell into an easy friendship with him. Your work hours aligned with his, sometimes arriving home at the exact same moment. Intending to just catch up for a few minutes, there were times you almost got sick standing outside in the cold air with him talking.

If he “happened” to make extra food, he made sure to bring it over and he promised that you were doing him the favor. If you “happened” to make extra food, you returned the sweet gesture, passing the same dishware back and forth.

You always texted first to make sure he didn’t have company. One day, he laughed riotously and told you that he wasn’t seeing anyone. And his friends weren’t the “come over and hang out” type.

“And you talk about me being in a house all by myself,” you scolded him playfully, and made sure to drop by just because. You told yourself that you were just being harmless, just making sure to repay him for being so sweet to you as a neighbor.

You weren’t sure when the teasing started. Whenever you talked to Marvin, it seemed like you were having a different conversation with your bodies. He made you warm all over. His presence and his smell already drew you in. But his protective nature and sense of humor made sure you were downright smitten.

You touched his arm or hand whenever you could. He’d find ways to step closer, or place his hand on the small of your back as he moved around you in the kitchen. Whenever you’d join him on the couch watching sports, you began to sit closer and closer together, thighs pressed together, and bumping shoulders.

But he never picked up on your hints. You weren’t even sure what kind of hints you were throwing out there so you couldn’t entirely blame him. You had a feeling that he just wouldn’t accept your place. It was why you were usually at his place and not the other way around. Did you want him to kiss you? Grab you? Snatch you up?

There were plenty of times you daydreamed about having your wicked way with him. What he’d look like when he let himself loose and grabbed you like he didn’t want to let go. Maybe he wouldn’t be into someone younger?

There were quite a few years separating you, but hell. The dating pool was ass nowadays. These men acted like they had no home training. Like they thought the best jewelry, cars, and clothes were enough to snare a woman but their dick game was just as terrible. A bunch of pretty packaging on trash.

Marvin looked like he’d fuck well. He moved precisely, taking care to make himself as un-intimidating as possible, as welcoming as possible. Sometimes you stared outside of your window when he got home from the gym. His dick bounced in his gray sweatpants, letting you know that he had more than enough equipment. But you were confused, lost, wondering if you just liked him because he made you feel safe when no other guy ever did. Not even your own dad.

Yeah, yeah, daddy issues. Whatever. You made sure to back away from Marvin when things sort of took a turn. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you. So it was best to back away and stop sending so many mixed signals. Besides asking Marvin to fix little things around your place. You made sure to clean up first.

One night, however, you were restless. Sleepless. You had opened your blinds in your bedroom, opening the windows as well to let in some cool air. You were unbearably horny. The porn and smut books weren’t cutting it. You threw on some sexy music, grabbed your favorite drink, and danced around your place in your panties and nothing else. Why not? You’d never done such a thing at your previous addresses, never feeling safe to do so.

You were feeling mighty good, teasing yourself, letting the anticipation build up before you broke out your Black Noir dildo, when you turned around. Marvin had entered his own bedroom. All this time, you didn’t know your bedrooms faced each other.

He had turned on his light, moving around his room. And the pervert in you watched. And stared. He took off the black shirt he had on, moving on to his pants. You looked away before you became too big of a pervert. But…it did give you a naughty idea. You dimmed the lights a little lower and continued dancing around your place, keeping your back turned to his window.

It may not work…but…you felt sexier. More alive. More naughty. Whether or not he actually saw something, it was enough to make you want to unplug your dildo and go to town right then and there. To imagine Marvin kissing all up and down your body, worshiping you. To get a sneak peak at the dick in his pants. You just knew he knew what to do with it. Felt it all over.

You were lost in your daydream, you turned around to grab your drink. You looked across the way at Marvin who seemed to be spazzing out. He was windmilling, stepping backwards, and you giggled as you pretended not to notice.

Interactions after that were…interesting. Marvin couldn’t look you in the eye after that. You’d ask and poke and prod, and he’d laugh it off, giving you some excuse about not being able to sleep. You pouted and continued to rely on him for little things. The sink wasn’t working? Call Marvin. Door was stuck? Call Marvin.

Every time, you walked him to the door asking if there was anything you could help him with and he’d only tell you he was happy to help, bid you goodnight, and then entered his house. The little minx in you couldn’t let it go. Had to see how far you could push him and what he’d do if he snapped.

You were thoroughly in love with your sweet neighbor and you wanted to torture him right out of his pants. Your bed was against the wall, opposite the door, so your windows were on the left. From what you could puzzle out, Marvin’s bed was similar. So if you happened to lay on the bed and pleasure yourself, there would be no mistaking what you were doing.

So you did just that. The first time, you were nervous as hell. You waited till you texted Marvin good night, that you were going to turn in early. He bid you goodnight and then you waited. Waited for him to enter his room and move around the space. All you saw was a dark shadow, but you knew that he was up here for you. Or you wished for that to be true in either case.

You had your own lights dark enough to not see anything, but dim enough to not mistake it for anything else. And you pleasured yourself with your vibrator, imagining that Marvin could see everything and was wishing it was him. You pictured him sitting in the window, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants, trying to resist touching himself. But the urge was too strong. Dick straining against his pants. So he’d take it out just to hold it. Just to relieve some of the ache.

But then he’d see your legs moving, your hands going in and out, rubbing across your titties, and he’d know. And he’d groan. That sexy, deep, needy rumbling like he just couldn’t help himself. He’d start slowly, just absently touching himself. Stroking himself to the image of you pleasuring yourself and knowing that he could do it better.

“Oh god, oh god,” you whined in the empty room, soft R&B music and the low vibrator the only sounds in the room. You wished it was his heavy breathing. His moaning in your ear. Was he a moaner? Did he moan while he was deep in it?

Your clit throbbed so you pulled the Black Noir dildo out of you and rubbed it against your clit. You moaned, breathing heavier. You pictured Marvin holding it there, torturing you. Just because he was sweet didn’t mean he couldn’t be mean sometimes, right?

The vibrations against your clit was torture and you held it there. Your hands weren’t yours anymore. They were guided by a phantom Marvin. For all you knew, he could be fast asleep at the moment. But to you, he was right in the room with you. He was holding the dildo against your clit and commanding you to hold it.

A dildo didn’t faze him. He knew women needed something extra to take them there. He was not intimidated by a vibrating toy when he knew his dick was everything you’d ever need. “Please,” you moaned, unable to help yourself.

Your belly twisted, clit throbbing painfully. Your thoughts were completely focused on phantom Marvin, picturing his shirt off, his powerful thighs exposed. You were no better than a man in the 18th century. A little bit of ankle and you were feral for Marvin. Overcome with thoughts of him.

You were about to cum so you plunged the black dildo into your sopping wet pussy and dialed up the vibrator. You screamed as you came, possibly calling out his name? You weren’t sure what you were saying as you had the most powerful orgasm of your life, back bowing off of the bed, legs shaking.

When you were done, you blinked into your dark room, staring up at the ceiling. Fuck. That was intense. And wrong. And so right, it hurt. You could learn to pick up after yourself some more, couldn’t you? Because if your fantasy was even a fraction of the real thing, you needed to fuck Marvin Milk.

Obviously, you had to consult the Council. Your circle of close friends that you trusted to tell you the truth. To see if you were tripping or if you should pursue this thing with Marvin.

“Girl, hell no!” Your friend, Story, exclaimed on the phone. You were currently on the phone with the Council, pleading your case.

“If his game is anything like the pics you sent, I’m honestly surprised you not knocking boots already,” your other friend, Yalonda, said.

“To be fair, she wanted to spend this time focused on her, not a man,” her last friend, Jayne, said.

“Right, thank you!” You said. You were currently making spaghetti, stirring the noodles and trying to gauge if they were done or not. You wanted to stop tossing noodles against the wall, but hell, how else were you supposed to tell?

“And who said focusing on Marvin is not focusing on herself? Part of self-discovery is exploration. Need I bring up Voldemort?” Yalonda asked, earning a circle of disgusted groans.

“Chile, that man dead as far as I’m concerned,” Story said.

“Raggedy bitch,” Jayne chimed in.

You chuckled, loving your friends more and more. “I don’t think I can play with this man like that, ya’ll. He sensitive,” you said.

There was a chorus of teeth smacking and grumbles. “But is he not grown? Like if you laid it out, would he not understand?” Story asked.

You sighed. Would he? You’d known him plenty of months, but you hadn’t gone deeper into either of your pasts. Because he was just a neighbor, really. But a neighbor you had so much in common with. You genuinely liked spending time with him. You loved his sense of humor, loved that he was so giving. You were a homebody, preferring to be in your own space and alone, rather than snuggled up underneath someone else. You got the sense that Marvin was the same. Preferring to keep his own company.

“You know how men get in they feelings when women treat them like bitches. Like shit, we took a page out of your book, playa! We trynna get like you and now it’s a problem,” Yalonda said.

“Preach! Speak on it!” Jayne said.

You giggled. “No one’s saying I got to marry the man. But I don’t think it’d be as casual as I’m picturing,” you said.

“There ain’t a casual bone in your body, honey. And that’s okay! You can still focus on yourself while getting dicked down,” Jayne said.

“But if Marvin come around talkin’ ‘bout he wants a relationship, now is she wrong or is he?” Story asked, taking the words right out of her mouth.

On and on it went. The decision was always left up to you, but still. You valued their input and it helped you realize that you cared about Marvin. Cared about how he took care of you. You didn’t have to blow this out of proportion. You could start light. There was a possibility that Marvin would be just fine with a casual affair. He had a life, you had a life, you were both adults.

“So what you gonna do?” Story asked. The line buzzed with bated breath from your friends. You stirred the meat, adding a teensy bit more oregano, when you sighed.

“I’m gon’ fuck that old man,” you said.

You pulled the phone away from your ear as the girls squealed, gassing you up. Reminding you that you were hot as hell and it was your divine right to fuck that old man. You giggled, now needing their help. You knew how to get guys interested, but with an older man like Marvin, you didn’t know what it would take. It was your first experience taking an older man seriously.

Would your usual tricks work? No. With the Council’s help, you figured that you’d have to go through with torturing him out of his pants.

You started the torture by ditching your comfortable, “let’s be friends” outfits and traded them for “Whoops, a little too tight” clothing. Lots of shorts. Lots of tank tops. Your first act was to make sure that you were outside, watering your grass, wearing short shorts and flip flops, bending over unnecessarily, waiting for Marvin.

Marvin arrived home just in time and got out of his car, his lips pressed together in disapproval. “Hey!” He called out.

You waved to him, your shirt lifting and giving him a peek at your body. He walked up his driveway, stopping to look over at you. There was a short concrete wall separating your properties, no taller than your ankles. You sauntered over, and grinned at him, taking your hand off the trigger.

The nozzle dripped with water and you collected the drops, rubbing it into your neck and chest. “Whew! It was hot as hell today, huh? Did you make sure to stay hydrated?” You asked.

Marvin swallowed and his eyes seemed unfocused, looking down somewhere on your body. You wish you knew where. Was he an ass man? A breasts man? You needed something more from him to guide you in the right direction.

“I should be asking you that,” he said, a smile crossing his face.

You waved him off. “You’re too sweet to me, Marvin,” you said.

He chuckled. “I promise I’m not,” he said.

You engaged him in more innocent conversation, telling him about your job, and he told you about his day. You reached out and squeezed his hand. “You’re so cool for what you do, Marvin. It takes a strong man to see what you do and still show up for those kids,” you told him.

He had the most adorable look on his face. You wondered if people praised him enough. Thanked him enough for everything that he did. You let him go and grinned. “Anywho, I should let you get inside and rest,” you told him.

He looked like he wanted to tell you something, so you looked at him and tilted your head. “Have a restful evening,” he said, nodded to you, and then turned around.

You bit your lip, watching him walk away, wondering if you didn’t have to torture him that long before he caved. He looked like he was torturing himself enough. Your core heated up, picturing him being just as smitten with you. Just as in lust. If he was rubbing himself raw in the shower to images of you in his mind.

You turned around and finished watering your lawn, heading back inside for the next phase of your torture.

You spent the week being mysteriously busy. Marvin had slowed inviting you over so you used that time to make yourself as unavailable as possible. A little toxic, but you got yourself dressed up and took yourself out as if you were going on dates. You managed to leave sometimes, just as Marvin was arriving home. Sometimes you’d wave, sometimes you pretended not to see him.

Friday night, you waited to leave in that leopard print dress you had, fuck me heels making your ass look fantastic. You heard his car pull up, saw the lights move across your living room. You waited a beat, then exited your home.

“Hey!” Marvin called. You pretended not to hear. You tapped away on your phone, giggling and smiling at nothing, as you made your way to your car, pulling up your strapless dress.

Marvin’s shoes crunched on your grass as he crossed your lawn, calling your name with a little more bass in his voice. You turned to him, a sweet smile on your face, and you watched him approach.

“Got another date?” He asked.

You bit your cheek to keep from smiling. “Marvin! You’re so sweet to worry! Yes, I’m going on another date. Do I look good?” You asked. You twirled, taking your time to show him every possible angle.

“Dressed like that?” He asked.

“You don’t like it?” You asked. You pouted, playing with your matching clutch bag.

“Whoa, hey, you look amazing. I just…” he trailed off, looking at your outfit. You let him, smiling to yourself, but then cleared your throat.

“You just…?” You prompted.

“I don’t want to overstep my bounds. I just hope these men are nice to you,” he said.

You giggled. “I’m not,” you said and continued to giggle. At Marvin’s confused face, you stopped and shrugged. “Obviously, I would like a nice man. But the dating scene sucks. You should be lucky you swore it off. These people out here are animals. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But a girl’s got needs, you know?”

“Needs?” He asked.

You nodded. “Oh yeah. All this hard work getting my place together. All the bullshit at work. I need to take the edge off too, you know,” you said.

“So the…” he started but then stopped.

“The what?” You asked, blinking innocently at him.

Marvin shook his head, rubbed his beard. “I’m overstepping, I’m sorry,” he said. He smiled. “Have a great night. Let me know when you get home safe and sound, okay?�� He reached out and rubbed your elbow.

You deflated against your car, watching him walk away. What the hell was it going to take? You got into your car with a huff, all dressed up with no real destination in mind. Fuck it. You called the Council and decided to go clubbing. If you weren’t really going to fuck someone tonight, you can at least show off your outfit. Because you looked fucking amazing.

You spent the night putting Marvin from your mind. You danced, you flirted your way to free drinks, you babysat Yalonda, poor thing never able to keep up with ya’ll. When you made it home, all the lights were off in Marvin’s place. You threw him a middle finger as you let yourself into your place, wondering if all this effort was even worth it. If Marvin even wanted to have sex with you.

You spent the weekend in your feelings, moping around your place. You didn’t know what it would take to get Marvin into your pants. What were you missing? Why was he not interested?

After spending Saturday moping, you finally decided to wash the grime of the day from you. You went to turn your shower on, but nothing came out. The pipes groaned, a strange knocking sound, but no water. You huffed, checking for possible culprits. Your sinks still worked, but not your shower.

You groaned, cursing the shower head from here to kingdom come. You didn’t want to call Marvin for this. You wondered if Story or Jayne would let you borrow one of their men to come fix it. You went to your room in search of your phone, when you remembered that it was Story’s anniversary and Jayne’s husband was sweet but useless as hell when it came to handy work.

You stomped your foot, pouting, giving in to the temper tantrum coursing through your body. Your pride didn’t want to let you call Marvin for something so stupid. If he wasn’t interested in you, why didn’t he just say that? Why didn’t he shut your ass down? Why did he allow you to develop this stupid crush on him?

You really wanted a shower. You didn’t do anything all day, but you couldn’t relax without a bath. It was the one first-world problem you didn’t want to have. You liked ready and easy access to hot water. And now you didn’t have it. And it was probably too late at night to call anyone else.

You stomped your foot again, walking into your living room and taking a peek behind your blinds. Marvin was watching TV in his living room like an old man. You smiled, despite yourself. There was nothing sexier than a man who was comfortable in his skin and in his own company.

You sucked your teeth and finally dialed his number. You were in booty shorts and an oversized T-shirt. Not completely sexy, but not bad either. You held the phone to your ear while you scurried to your bedroom.

You may not be powerful enough to torture him out of his pants, but maybe direct seduction would work. You thought over every conversation you had with Marvin, every little self-deprecating joke he uttered, and wondered if he thought you wouldn’t be interested in him?

If he thought he was too old, too old-fashioned, or “overstepping his bounds”. Who the fuck even said something like that? Men who thought no one was interested in them. Poor baby. This was your last chance. If being direct didn’t help, then he was either gay or still hung up on his ex-wife or simply didn’t want you.

The phone rang a few times in your ear before Marvin’s rough voice picked up. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry to bug,” you started and Marvin chuckled.

“Didn’t I say you never bug?” He asked.

“Yes, but…”

“No buts. What do you need?” He asked.

Was he aware of how hot he was? Did none of the women in his life give him a fucking clue? Four little words out of his mouth, in his sinful deep voice, was enough to make you moan. Was he that blind?

You sucked your teeth and groaned. “My shower isn’t working. And feel free to say no! It’s just…” You paused to look through your lingerie. You didn’t want anything too revealing, like this was all a set up. But you wanted something that showed you meant business. None of what you owned fit the bill. You were used to younger guys. You wanted to get in, run their hands over your teddies or panties, and then get down to fucking. No foreplay. No talking.

“Just what?” Marvin asked. Was it your imagination or did his voice get rougher?

“It’s just, I get a little crazy about my showers. It relaxes me. Calms me down. I can’t live without taking a nice, long, hot, relaxing bath or shower,” you said. You shimmied out of your shorts and went to remove your oversized Tupac shirt when it dawned on you…you didn’t need anything fancy with Marvin. The point of direct seduction was to be direct.

Marvin chuckled softly. “Say no more, sweetheart. I’ll be right over with my tools,” he said. You said goodbye, but your pussy throbbed with his endearing words to you. He’d never called you such a thing before. You stood in your bedroom, momentarily dazed. You wanted to be his sweetheart. So damn badly you could taste it.

The doorbell rang, pulling you from your thoughts. Shit. Shit. You picked up your shorts off of the floor and threw them in the laundry basket, along with the clothes from the famous chair. You pushed it into your closet and then hurriedly walked to the front door, eyeing your surroundings.

Not the best, but luckily, you hadn’t left too much chaos in your wake getting ready this past week or moping today. You opened the door, grinning at Marvin. His eyes dropped to your legs for a moment before he looked back at you, smiling.

You opened the door further, waving him inside. He stepped in, head on a swivel. You wondered if he had a military background. Safe inside, you closed and locked the door. “Thank you for coming over. You sure you weren’t busy?” You asked.

Marvin shook his head. “I’m an old man. All I do is my job and go home. I must seem pretty boring, huh?” He asked.

You shook your head. Feeling nervous all of a sudden. You’ve seduced men before. It was a thrill every time. But this felt different with Marvin. Felt different because he meant more to you than any of those other flings. You wanted to please him. It shouldn’t be a radical concept but it was.

“You are the opposite of boring, Marvin. In fact, I think you’re pretty special,” you said.

Marvin laughed and shrugged his shoulders, walking deeper into your home. The kitchen was just in front and you prayed that he wasn’t looking at your dirty dishes. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to make you cringe.

“I’m surprised you’re home on a Saturday night. Why aren’t you out on a date?” He asked.

You didn’t answer, forcing him to turn around to you. You were still leaning against the door, your head tilted towards him. “I haven’t found what I wanted,” you said.

No games. No tricks. No attitude. You walked towards Marvin, okay sauntered, and when you got within his personal space, you looked at him. You locked eyes as you grabbed the toolbox out of his hands. You placed it on the nearest end table, taking his hands and leading him to the back of the couch.

“What do you want?” He asked, eyebrow lifted, a scowl on his face. Did he really not have a clue? No idea of what you were feeling? This whole time, you thought you were a neon sign. Professing how much you wanted to fuck him. How badly you wanted to be wrapped in his arms. Underneath him. Welcoming him into your body.

He wore another music shirt, N.W.A splattered across his chest. Gold chain gleaming in your warm lighting. Dark sweats. Dark shoes. He looked good enough to lick on. What a great idea, actually.

“You. I want you,” you said. You stared into his eyes, sinking slowly to your knees.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” He asked. He tried to bend down, hands flying to your arms to lift you. You resisted, hands moving to his pants.

“I’m telling you that I’m crazy about you and that I found a great way to thank you,” you said.

“Thank me?”

“Yup. Thank you for welcoming me to the neighborhood, being sweet to me on my worst day, and becoming the best thing about my day, talking to you,” you said.

Marvin relaxed against the back of your couch. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said.

“I know. I want to. Please, Marvin? You’d be doing me a favor,” you said.

Marvin rested his hands on the back of the couch, so you began to tug his pants down. He wore nothing underneath, his thick dick bobbing up and down once freed. He was huge and growing by the second, as he stood at attention.

“What kind of favor?” He asked. He sounded less unsure and more amused. So you leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dick.

“I cannot scratch this really particular itch I have. I’ve tried ignoring it, I’ve tried pleasing myself. And nothing worked. Not even picturing you using my vibrator on me,” you pouted, licking his tip.

“Don’t tell me that,” Marvin groaned.

“Don’t tell you what? That I masterbate? Or I do it with your name on my lips?” You asked.

Marvin groaned and tapped the back of your couch. “I didn’t think you’d want this from me. That dress the other day made me want to drag you back inside the house,” he said.

You chuckled, pussy clenching at his confession. So he did like you! Really liked you!

You gripped his dick, moving your hands softly up and down since he wasn’t properly lubed up yet. He groaned, looking down at you.

“I wanted you to,” you said.

Marvin chuckled. “I’ve wanted you since I saw you crying outside your house. I wanted to do anything to make you smile,” he said.

You sighed and rested your forehead against his thigh. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t be cute right now,” you said.

Marvin laughed again and his dick bounced. You looked up at him. “I’ve pictured you on your knees too. Felt like a pervert, stroking to the pics you’ve sent me,” he said, referring to the innocent selfies you sent him, trying to cajole a few out of him. Something to keep you going in between spouts of seeing him.

“You’ve jerked off to me?” You asked.

Marvin nodded. “Did you intentionally masterbate in front of your bedroom window for me?” He asked.

Your thighs tingled. He had been watching! The confirmation of it made you clench even more, wanting so desperately to rush this. To speed things along. To pounce on him and not come up for air.

You nodded. “I hoped you were watching,” you confessed.

Marvin smirked. “Is that right?” He asked.

You nodded and went back to nuzzling his dick. The sweet musk of him. He kept the hair here nice and trimmed, just like the rest of him. You were a little intimidated by it, but you were willing to try.

You opened your mouth and suckled the head. Marvin groaned, his hand flying to your hair but then backing away. You chuckled. “You can play with my hair,” you told him.

Marvin’s hand went back to your hair, scratching lightly. Your eyes rolled and you went back to suckling him down further. Damn. No one’s ever done that for you before. It activated your demon brain, taking off the kid gloves.

You sucked him down in one fell swoop. Marvin moaned, grabbing your hair and yanking painfully. You kept going, slobbering on his dick. Playing with his dick. Toying with it. Unleashing all that pent up horniness, disgusting daydreams, and filthy fantasies your mind had cooked up over the past few months.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” Marvin moaned. He gripped your hair tighter and you moaned, panties getting wetter by the second. You planned to ease him into this. Get used to the idea that you wanted him worse than an addict wanted a drink. Then you would ease him into your filthy mind. The way you turned into an absolute horn dog when you wanted someone.

You didn’t know what it was. Only that once you were locked in to someone, you burned bright and fast. You were into it all. Being dominated, being controlled, being at the mercy of someone else. It didn’t always work out well. Some men were just too weak to fit the bill.

But you needed to put it on Marvin. Needed him to know how serious you were. How this wasn’t casual to you. And you hoped it wasn’t for him. Because he was already sending hella signals that he was into you, that this wasn’t small. And you feared that once you got a taste, you wouldn’t be able to stop. Would cross oceans of time to get back to him and his glorious dick.

Your slobber dripped down your chin as you spat on it and then sucked him back down. The chorus of curses raining out of Marvin’s mouth was like music to your ears. The subtle praise was successfully turning your mind to mush.

“Fuck, I’m ‘bout to bust, sweetheart,” he groaned.

You renewed your efforts, gripping onto his thighs and sucking him down as far back as he would go. You slowly withdrew his dick from your mouth, feeling every vein and the edge of his mushroom head. Fresh precum leaked into your mouth and then you swallowed him all again.

“Shit,” Marvin said. “So fucking beautiful with my dick in your mouth,” he moaned.

You moaned around his dick, looking up at him and repeating your efforts. Getting faster and faster until Marvin gripped your head on either side and moaned. Cum pulsed into your mouth and you drank greedily. His dick throbbed, more leaking out. You suckled that down too.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Marvin groaned. You slowly withdrew him with a pop and licked the corners of your mouth.

Marvin was sweating and his chest was heaving with his breaths. He stared at you like you were otherworldly. Something conjured from his mind and made flesh. You loved that look in his eye. You grinned and nuzzled his balls. His slick dick smeared across your face, but that was okay. You couldn’t stop touching him, being near him, pleasuring him.

“Stand up,” he commanded. You used his thighs for support as you stood up and shook out your aching legs. Your focus had been on making him cum in your mouth so you ignored your body’s protests. Now that you were back to the land of the living, your check engine lights came on.

Your feet burned with static as feeling returned, your knees groaning, and your thighs slightly shook. You used the end of your shirt to clean off the rest of your mouth, the saliva and cum you didn’t get to.

Marvin grabbed you by the elbow and shoved you down the hallway. You giggled from the way he manhandled you. He tossed you onto the bed and then went to work taking off his shoes and clothes. Fully naked before you, you sat up on your elbows to take in the full view of him.

Fuck, he was perfect. His body was thick in all the right places. Round belly but there was muscle underneath, arms big enough to crush melons, thick waist, and big sexy thighs. His sexy brown skin only seemed to shine brighter in your room. No shadows to hide behind, he was hands down the finest man you’d ever seen naked.

Marvin grinned at you and pushed your shirt up to expose your panties. He pinned your legs apart, staring at your clad center. He got to his knees, pulling your leg over his shoulder. “All this time? You’ve been teasing me on purpose?” He asked.

He pressed a thumb against your pussy and you moaned. The sensation was too much to your oversensitive clit. You squirmed on the bed and all he did was press a thumb there. Either you were just that horny, or you were that horny for Marvin. “Y-Yes,” you moaned, when he pressed his thumb in again.

“All the dresses, the dates, the intentional innuendos. You wanted me jealous, didn’t you?” He asked. He moved his thumb all around your pussy. Down the seam, down the sides of your panties, towards your entrance.

Your breathing increased, heart jumping in your chest. You were thoroughly turned on. Thoroughly ejected from your brain and into fantasyland. “Yes,” you moaned. You needed more. You needed him to move your panties to the side.

“Please, Marvin,” you begged.

Marvin pushed his nose into your pussy and took a deep breath. “Such a brat. Why should I reward you for being so bad?” He asked. His thumb pushed past the seam of your panties, pressing into the sides of your pussy and you moaned, pushing your hips down in an effort to get him where you wanted him.

“I’ve been good, I swear,” you said.

“You let those other men touch you?” He asked. His warm breath fanned across your sweat-slick thighs.

You never went on any dates and you wondered if you should fess up to that. However, there was a feral, animalistic glint in his eye that was turning you on even more. “A little, there was some kissing,” you said instead of the truth.

Marvin closed his eyes, jaw flexed, and then used his free hand to wipe his face. “What else did you let them do?” He asked.

His thumb played with the seam of your pussy but he didn’t push in further. Your essence pooled out of you, enough to let him slide without issue. But you needed him to touch your pussy. To stick a finger in, something. He was being so mean. And god, you fucking loved it.

“That’s it, I swear,” you said. Marvin looked at you, his eyes intense. You nodded. “I swear.”

Marvin removed his thumb, pressing it to his lips and suckling on your slick. You watched his eyes close, a low hum escaping him. He leaned up and then moved your panties to the side, tongue darting out to lick up from your pussy to your clit.

“Oh shit!” You screamed. His tongue flicked your swollen clit, causing some type of vibration that made your eyes cross.

“No one else touches what’s mine, understand?” He asked.

“What’s yours?” You asked. Marvin bit the inside of your thigh and you cried out.

“No one else touches what’s mine. Including you,” he said. He backed up his words with his tongue and lips, zeroing in on your clit and suckling hard.

You back bowed off of the bed, but you had no room to move. Marvin had you completely trapped and under his mercy. He licked and sucked, making out with your pussy or feasting on an entire meal. You grew wetter from fresh slick and his spit, suckling on you messy and loud. It was lewd, listening to how wet he made you. How turned on he made you.

“Oh, fuck, Marvin,” you groaned.

Marvin hummed greedily, still eating you out. He focused on your clit, bringing his hand up to dip into your weeping hole. His hand slipped in easily, messily. You clenched around his finger and moaned.

Marvin added a second finger, testing how much you could take. It’d been a minute but Black Noir’s dildo was oversized, playing up the stereotype. You were over Vaught for that, but shit, it was the only one close enough to satisfy your sexual appetite. So with two of Marvin’s fingers down to the knuckle, it wasn’t the biggest you’d ever taken. Still.

He knew how to explore with those fingers. Moving them in all kinds of different directions. Your moans and groans changed depending on what he was doing. And fuck if that wasn’t the point. He found exactly what got you going, what got you whimpering and clutching onto him, and your nails digging into his scalp.

Marvin moaned into your pussy, flicking his tongue across your clit. “I’ll prove that I’m the only man you need,” he said. He went back to suckling and then switched up again, rubbing his fingers against a tiny nub inside you. You exploded. Shattered. Broken into tiny, jagged pieces that scraped your vocal chords as you screamed out your release.

Marvin continued to eat you out, and rub against that nub. You went from one powerful orgasm to the next. Your leg shook on top of his shoulder. You made all kinds of unholy, unhinged sounds as you flopped on your bed.

You whimpered as you came down from the second one. Your bed was soaked beneath you. An entire puddle. “You made a beautiful mess, sweetheart,” Marvin said, sounding awed. Sounding reverent.

Your pussy clenched at his praise. Like that was all he wanted and you granted it to him. You whimpered again, shaking with aftershocks of your orgasm. You thought you were good at sex. You thought you knew how to put it down. Marvin was insane. He was in another league and it was making you feel a little insecure.

But then Marvin started kissing your thighs as he stood up. He helped removed your panties and then yanked you up by the shirt. You giggled as you fought with the big shirt, wishing you had opted to wear something easier to remove. Marvin giggled too, breaking the intense persona he adopted.

Freed, cold but welcome air hit your hardened nipples. Marvin kissed all over your big belly, all over your rolls, dips, and hips. He moaned after every kiss, like each new space was more delicious than the last.

“Fuck, you make me feel so good, Marvin. So fuckin’ good,” you panted. You were out of breath. Overheated. He made you feel like you could walk barefoot on the sun and not get get burnt.

Marvin groaned, kissing up to your chest. He took his time, suckling one nipple into his mouth and then turning his attention to the other. Your knees snapped to his waist, holding him in. Your pussy began throbbing again in record time.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. Can you give me one more? Can you make another mess for me?” He asked, kissing each question into your chest.

You shook your head. Hell naw you couldn’t give him one more. Was he crazy? Another one? He wanted another one after that previous explosion? You wouldn’t survive it.

“Where’s your toy?” He asked.

“What?” You asked, fresh dread making your heart sink.

Marvin got up from the bed and went to your nightstand, opening it and finding his prize. He chuckled, flipping it around while he found the on switch. The dildo started vibrating and he looked from it to you.

“This what you into, huh?” He asked.

You giggled and shook your head. “I know they’re trash but they sure know their client base,” you said.

Marvin nodded and stepped close to you. And yes, his dick was bigger. Of course it was bigger than the toy. You were out of your league in more ways than one, but he’d been nothing but gentle with you, even while he was doing his own brand of torture.

He brought the dildo to your clit. You began to moan, pushing against the toy. It was on the lowest setting but it was like heaven against you. You were too sensitive as it was. Marvin played with your essence and the toy, swirling the tip around your clit.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he said. “You don’t know how many mornings I woke up, humping the shit out of my bed, trying to hold onto my dreams,” he said.

Oh shit. Marvin’s words went straight to your heart. Why did he have to be so….him? So open, so caring, so filthy? You were going to collapse from it all.

“Marvin, please,” you whined. Your voice shook. Body so warm and sweaty, mind gone. He broke you down in more ways than one and you once again marveled at him.

“Is this what you do when you masterbate? Tease yourself? I bet you do,” he cooed at you. He turned up the vibrator, the vibrations more intense and making your teeth chatter. Your toes curled, trying to stave off another orgasm. You weren’t joking. You were really going to collapse from this one.

“Hey, look at me sweetheart,” he said. Your eyes turned to his and he smiled. “You’re okay. You can let that shit go. I know you like to tease yourself. Play with yourself. ‘Cause you know exactly what turns you on, huh?” He asked.

You nodded, staring into his eyes. You were struggling to breathe but it grew easier focusing on him and not the fact that you were getting ready to combust. “And I can’t wait to get to know every spot, every moan, everything that makes your eyes roll,” he continued.

“Oh, shit, Marvin, Marvin,” you said, words rising with your panic. You were just there, just at the precipice. Your nails dug into his arm but he showed no indication that it hurt him. He was indestructible. Your hero, your savior.

Marvin leaned in, arm flexing with supporting his weight on the bed. He suckled a nipple back into his mouth, teasing it, rolling it between his teeth. The bite of pain sent a ripple down to your pussy and you throbbed.

“You’re a brat but you know when to give in, don’t you? There’s only so long you can tease yourself before you get greedy, huh? ‘Cause your spoiled ass always gets what she wants. Go on and let that shit go,” he cooed.

Marvin turned the setting up to its highest setting, pressing it firmly against your clit. You came immediately. Black spots winking in and out of your vision. You broke down, atom by atom, bit by bit, conceptual thought by abstract thought, and there was only you, him, and the intense pleasure he wrought out of your body. You screamed to the ceiling, screamed to heavens, screamed to anyone who was near enough to hear that you were cumming and cumming hard enough to see stars.

Marvin distantly moved around you, doing something. You weren’t sure what. You were starting to calm down, feeling the fresh pool of wetness leak out of you. “Fuuck, you’re soaked, sweetheart,” he said.

He came back into your field of vision, lining himself up. Oh, he went and grabbed a condom. What a beautiful man. You pushed against his chest, arm too weak to really stop him. “Slow, baby, please,” you huffed.

Marvin chuckled and pushed against your hand. “You’ve already taken everything so well, sweetheart,” he said and kissed your forehead.

Your mind emptied out with a feral moan and Marvin pushed into your warm pussy. He groaned as he made contact. “Fuck, you’re good and wet baby. Look at that, slid right in. ‘Cause you take everything so well. So fuckin’ beautiful. So fuckin’ perfect,” he moaned.

The praise was snatching your soul. Marvin grunted with every slip and slide of him inside you. Your legs locked around his waist, some primal muscle memory locking him in. Trapping him in. Keeping him connected to you while he fucked you.

You gripped onto his shoulders, scratching him. He groaned and began fucking you harder. His big, meaty palms grabbed your hips and slammed you into his dick. He was so big. He stretched you to your limit. But all the preparation made sense to you now. There was no way you could take him unless you were properly wet.

Wouldn’t be a problem with him but you made a mental note to buy some lube. Possibly two bottles because you couldn’t imagine having this much patience again. You’d want to climb on top of him any chance you got.

“Fuck, Marvin! You’re so big!” You screamed. And this time, you weren’t trying to hurry the man along. You were dead serious, praising him for what God and genetics blessed him with. Your ass smacked on his thighs, dick burrowing deep inside.

“Fuck you feel good taking this dick,” he moaned. One of his hands moved to pinch a nipple. He held on while he fucked you hard, headboard clapping against your wall.

“Shit!” You screamed, once again creaming on his dick. You hadn’t even felt this one coming. It snuck up on you, robbing you of breath and thought.

Marvin groaned, slammed in a few more times, before shooting into the condom. You felt his dick pulse with each shot of cum and you moaned, clutching his body to you. He slowed down, breathing heavy in your ear. His sweaty body felt cold on yours and yet the heat of him was enough to scald.

He stood up, slowly withdrawing from you. You groaned as he worked himself out. You rolled to one elbow, huffing with the effort. A thick wad of cum was at the tip of the condom. Marvin smiled at you. It was devastating. It broke your heart.

You were lost in it completely as he took the condom off and disappeared to your bathroom. You heard water running and then he was back with a washcloth, cleaning up between your legs.

You felt so cherished and taken care of. Where had he been all your life? Moving next to him was the single greatest idea you’d ever had. Fuck every doubt, every regret, every night you spent wondering if this was the right move. Marvin just proved it was.

After cleaning you up, he got rid of the rag and then helped you stand up. He stripped your bed, and then found new sheets in the cabinet you told him about. In record time, he put new sheets on and then was pulling you back down, embracing you from behind.

You snuggled into his warmth, yawning, feeling safe and warm and madly in love. He was never escaping you. Never getting rid of you. Dick could absolutely change a woman’s tune, got damn.

“I got one more question before you fall asleep, sweetheart,” he said and kissed behind your ear.

“Hmm?” You asked, no energy for anything. You were falling asleep fast.

“Did your shower really go out?” He asked.

“Uh-huh,” you agreed and then you were fast asleep to the sound of Marvin’s chuckles.

There's more! The Secret Mother's Milk Files

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satoruxx · 1 year ago

Note

hey bestie <333

congratulations on 200 followers !! you deserve it and more !! 🫶

im thinking some Gojo fluff inspired by After Last Night by Silk Sonic? I love that whole album and I always get gojo vibes from it 🥹

love you and congrats again ‼️🥰

pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1.1k words summary: fluff, lots of pining, slightly suggestive due to implied 18+ content, satoru is whipped as he should be, he's just a lil guy pls give him a hug he has sm love he wants to share !! a/n: RAHHH casey this request was sm fun i love this song and it absolutely gives satoru vibes !! anyways ty for being my number one supporter babes. i hope you enjoy this @novasatoru mwah ily <33

satoru considers himself to be rational. even though he can be loud, excessive, dramatic, he has always been rational. most people don’t know or understand all the detailed thought he puts behind every decision he makes. all because of his rationality.

sure, sometimes he can be a little reckless, but not in a way that is irrational. he’s reckless in childish ways, ways that make him seem obnoxious and yet frustratingly endearing.

but he’s not reckless like this. not irrational like this.

satoru’s not reckless so he knows it can’t be possible that you’re here, in his bed, naked skin just barely covered by his sheets. he knows it can’t be possible that you’re here first thing in the morning because there’s no way you went to bed with him the previous night. he knows, for sure, that he couldn’t have crossed all the lines he set with you for years in just a matter of minutes.

but the purpled bruises littering your skin, the scattered clothing across his bedroom floor, and the warmth of your bare body pressing against him tells him enough.

he’s speechless for a second, mind going haywire as he tries to remember what exactly happened and how he could’ve been so careless. years and years of friendship with you, all changed in a matter of one night.

you were always supposed to be one of his closest friends. sure, he would pay any price to see you smile and sure, he’d gladly take your side over anyone else’s.

and obviously, satoru would destroy the whole world if you so much as batted your eyes at him and said please.

but that’s normal because he is your best friend.

but no where in his plans did he ever think to cross this line. after so many moons of pushing back his less than appropriate thoughts. after wondering how good your lips would taste as you sweetly whispered his name. after all of that, he didn’t think his self control would dissipate like this.

there’s a brief memory of the previous night, tipsy words of confession and sloppy passionate kisses, that sends his mind reeling.

he’s pulling himself out of bed in an instant, slipping his clothes on and hoping they somehow manage to ground him because god, it feels like his head is floating.

he’s choosing to ignore how fantastic his heart feels to see you curled up in his bed like that, hair splayed across his pillows like you’ve always belonged there.

instead satoru steps into his kitchen, snowy bangs resting across his forehead as he tries to figure out what he’s going to say to you when you wake up. honestly he’s a little worried himself. how would you react? would you tell him you made a mistake or would you be angry at him for letting it happen?

truthfully he’s never cared much about other people’s feelings, but yours somehow have the power to impact his whole day.

he figures that he can live with it, if you think it was a mistake. he’d be pathetically heartbroken, he realizes, but your comfort matters most to him. and if all he was destined for in this life was your friendship, he’d never do anything to jeopardize it. it’d be enough for him.

satoru doesn’t even realize he’s made two cups of coffee instead of one.

he steels himself, watching his murky reflection ripple in the mugs, and knowing that he would respect your wishes no matter how much it bothers him. he won’t say anything, because he'd rather silently live with his own idiotic feelings than risk losing you for good.

“morning.”

he almost jumps, unusually startled because only you could catch the man who saw the world through the Six Eyes off guard. any plans he’s made on what to say or how to say it fly straight out the door when he turns to look at you, his throat going dry as he takes you in.

you hair is mussed and your expression is still dazed, a sleepy pout on your face as you rub at your eyes. you blink at him slowly, an inquisitive little expression on your face as you pad over to him and peer at the stove. “you making food?”

he nods wordlessly, still a little breathless because gods above you’re wearing his shirt like it’s yours and his brain is in overdrive. it’s so hard to think, to even breathe, because satoru has wanted this for so long and it’s finally here like it had always been here in the first place. like it’s normal, regular.

“can i have some too, ‘toru? i’m really hungry.”

he has to take a minute to bask in the intimacy of this moment because it’s honestly making his thoughts stutter. “u-uh yeah, ‘course you can.” he’s handing you one of the mugs before he can even comprehend it, and you take it from him gratefully.

he feels oddly parched as he watches you take a sip, looking at him with dewy eyes over the rim, and he waits with bated breath as you open your mouth to speak. “did you sleep okay last night?”

it’s such an innocent question and he’s almost completely sure he shouldn’t be overthinking it like a fool but he knows it in his soul that he’s nothing if not a fool for you. you make every rational thought evaporate from his normally over calculating brain, make his body react without a touch, make his mouth move faster than his thoughts can.

and this time is no different.

“fuck i’m so in love with you.”

you blink up at him, and he’s cursing himself for even opening his mouth, but then you’re grinning up at him like he’s said the most endearing thing ever. “well i should hope so. i’d be pretty bummed if you told me you loved me last night and then woke up and changed your mind.”

satoru’s breath hitches, and he briefly wonders when and how he managed to confess his love for you the previous night, but then he realizes he doesn’t care all that much because you’re smiling at him like he puts the stars in your sky.

which for you, he absolutely would do.

so he does the only thing he feels is right for the moment. he bends down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, heartbeat unusually erratic as he feels you melt into him, before pulling back and giving you a cheeky smile. “i’m not even close to done loving you.”

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doctorbitchcrxft · 3 months ago

Text

The Kids Are All Right | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: recovering from an assault (heed this warning pls my loves), canon gore, canon violence, angst

Word Count: 4773

A/N: Heyyyy.... accidentally posted two at the same time haha. No episode this Saturday as a result; I'm sorry, y'all!! But a little extra treat today!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You and Sam spoke almost twice daily after your heart-to-heart leaving Lincoln. You were incredibly grateful to still have his friendship; even if your phone calls had to be carefully maneuvered around times when Dean was in the room.

You were unsure how to feel about the fact that Sam was still trying to find ways to break Dean’s deal knowing he’d die if that happened but would also support your friend in whatever his decision was. You refused to have any involvement in picking between the lives of the two brothers, though, even if you were falling deeper and deeper in love with him with each passing day.

Just the thought of seeing him again was enough to have butterflies swirling in your stomach. You were terrified of what he’d say to you, yes, but you missed him so dearly. As chaotic as he could be at times, he truly was your rock. And with each day that passed, the sore pang in your heart at the thought of him seemed to intensify.

Not to mention, your struggle with your assault was draining you. Your heart hurt every time you walked past a mirror, and every once in a while, you’d see yourself in that guard uniform.

“Where are you guys?” you asked Sam through the phone as you walked around your motel room pulling clothes on.

“Cicero, Indiana,” Sam replied.

Your heart and stomach dropped. “What?”

“No way you’re here, too,” Sam began to laugh.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Sam! I purposefully picked a case that seemed like it wouldn’t pan out to stay away from him!” you replied frantically. “I mean, ‘guy falls on his own power saw’ doesn’t exactly scream unsolved mysteries!”

Sam was still laughing, but cleared his throat before talking again. “Yeah, but Dean’s cruisin’ for a hookup, too. That’s his main motivation, I think.”

You scoffed and ignored the burning feeling in your chest. “Of course, he is. Who is it this time?”

“Lisa Braeden. His… five day road trip from about eight years ago,” Sam explained.

“Oh,” you breathed out. “Gumby girl.”

“So you know of her,” Sam said.

“Oh, yeah! After one of the first times we had sex, he told me I gave Gumby Girl a run for her money. ‘Best sex of my life before you’ is a direct quote,” you told him.

“Okay, ew,” Sam grimaced. “I don’t need to hear about your sex life—”

“It was topically relevant, Sam!”

“—and this is apparently one of his ‘dying wishes’.”

“Way to let me down easy, jackass,” you sassed at the brunet’s clear inability to read the room in this situation.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

“It’s fine. I’ll leave. Let Dean have his fun,” you continued.

“No, don’t!” Sam begged. “At least stay till tomorrow so we can meet for coffee. I’m sure Dean ‘ll still be out with Gumby.”

“We should probably call that poor woman by her actual name,” you giggled. “But sure. I’ll stay till then.”

“Great!” You could practically hear Sam grinning on the other end of the phone. “I’ll call you when I get up tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Bye, Sammy.”

***

Someone pounding on your door at around one in the morning woke you up with a start. Swiftly, you put the barrel of your gun to the door and listened because there was no peephole for you to look through. You opened the door a crack when you heard nothing for a moment to reveal Dean staring at the ground before looking up at you.

Shocked, you slammed the door in his face and threw your gun at your bed. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten to lock the door behind you, and Dean waltzed into your bedroom.

“(Y/N), you can’t leave,” the man told you.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Dean? How did you even find me?!” you cried. “What, you think after three weeks of not talking I’m just gonna let you— Especially after you just fucked Gumby Girl—!” You began pacing around the room.

“I didn’t fuck Gumby Girl, (Y/N),” he said softly, still standing close to the door.

You scoffed and crossed your arms, suddenly very aware of the underwear and oversized band t-shirt you wore to bed that night. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” he replied, still staring at the ground. His hands stayed in his leather jacket pockets. “Couldn’t bring myself to even try.”

You threw your arms out in frustration. “What, am I supposed to forgive you for not fucking one out of the many Sam’s been telling me about you being with since I left?!”

Dean seemed stunned.

“Yeah! So, I’m sorry, but you’re not just gonna waltz in here and act like everything’s fine and dandy,” you chortled coldly.

“Are you gonna give me a chance to explain myself?” he questioned angrily.

“Why should I?” you scoffed.

“Because you love me! I thought that was the whole point!” he argued.

You stared him down, eyebrows drawn together. “Well, you obviously don’t love or respect me enough not to go fuck random girls literal days after I leave.”

“I do!” he shot back. “Would you just fucking listen? I was drinking alone when Sam thought I was with those other chicks.”

You said nothing, still glaring at him.

“I didn’t fuck any of them, (Y/N), ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you!”

Tension hung thick in the air between the two of you, and you looked up at him with dewey eyes. When you couldn’t stand to hold his gaze anymore, you turned away. “Why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you… say it back? Say anything back?” Your voice broke while you talked.

“I should’ve,” Dean replied quietly. “I- I’m sorry I didn’t.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have left you guys with those demons.”

You felt Dean’s fingers gently graze your arm, and he waited for you to flinch away for a moment. When you didn’t, he reached out and gingerly turned you to face him and held you to his chest.

You melted into him almost immediately and let all of the emotion you’d been holding back for the past three weeks out. He rested his head on top of yours and just held you there for a minute.

“I can’t watch you die, Dean,” you told him, still hugging him tightly. “I can’t do it.”

“I’m not asking you to,” he said. “Can you just… stick around till my time is up?” He gently pushed you away from him slightly to turn your eyes up to meet his gaze. “Please? It’s my dying wish.”

You giggled through your tears but nodded. You immediately dove back into his chest. “I don’t want you to leave,” you whispered.

“I don’t wanna leave you,” he said, voice beginning to shake. “But I couldn’t let ‘im die, (Y/N). I couldn’t do it.” “I know,” you nodded.

The two of you stood there holding each other once more until Dean spoke up again. “And, uh… ditto, by the way.”

“What?” you snorted, pulling away from him.

“What you said… at Bobby’s,” he explained, avoiding your eyes.

“You love me?” you asked, smiling lopsidedly.

Dean just nodded.

“And you told me just by saying ‘ditto’?” You burst out into laughter at Dean’s attempt at vulnerability.

Dean went red in the face and turned away.

“No, no!” you said, immediately quieting down. “It’s just— that was so cute. You’re adorable when you can’t emote properly.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, tilting your chin up to kiss you passionately and effectively silence your laughter. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck immediately; almost like a reflex.

When you pulled away, you leaned your forehead against Dean’s.

“You know I’m not letting you leave again,” he said.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you smiled.

***

You sat on the bed facing a shirtless Dean who was reclining against the headboard on a pillow while he told you his story from yesterday. He lazily drew circles on your outermost hip with his thumb as he talked.

“So, I went to her house, right? ‘Cause… y’know. Gumby Girl,” he began sheepishly. “And, uh, turns out, she’s got a son.”

“Jesus, really?” you replied. “I forget most people have kids at our age.”

“See, this is where it gets interesting,” Dean continued. “So I go out to the backyard, and I see this kid, and (Y/N), I’m telling you, he looked just like me. Acted just like me, too. It felt like fuckin’ Freaky Friday.”

“Dean, don’t tell me—”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” he cut you off. “But no. Lisa said he’s not mine.”

“How do you know she’s not lying?” you asked. You finally processed the story Dean was telling you, and realization washed over you in tidal waves. “You could have a child. You might be his father. What the fuck.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” he said. “It’s freakin’ me out, man. But that’s not all.”

“Dean, if this involves a paternity test that names you as a match, I’m gonna start freakin’ out,” you said.

“No, no, it doesn’t. At least, not yet,” he chuckled.

You glared at him.

He laughed. “Anyway, I think there really is a case here. One of those kids at the party was weird.”

“Yeah, Dean, kids are weird. Any other earth-shattering news I should be aware of?” you snorted.

Dean deadpanned at you. “You know what I mean. She wasn’t standin’ all the way upright—”

“Maybe she just has scoliosis—” you cut in.

Dean kept talking over you. “—And she kept glaring at everybody—”

“—I glare at everybody—” you continued.

“—And it’s the kid whose dad fell on the power saw.”

You considered for a moment. “Okay, maybe there is something happening. But it could also just be how her grief is manifesting.”

“Yeah, but (Y/N), all kinds of freaky accidents have been happening all over the neighborhood,” Dean explained further. “People fallin’ off ladders, drowning in hot tubs—”

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” you sighed.

“What’s your hold-up with all this?” he asked.

“Whaddya think, Dean,” you deadpanned.

“What, Lisa?” He seemed genuinely shocked.

“I just think we should leave this town in our rearview mirror. Y’know, between Gumby Girl and her kid that’s potentially yours— oh, god,” you muttered when you fully realized Dean might have a son.

“(Y/N), he’s probably not mine. I mean, she said he wasn’t,” Dean reminded you.

“Somehow, that’s not making me feel better,” you grumbled.

Dean pulled you down toward him and gently kissed your lips.

“Dean—” you tried, but he cut you off with another kiss. “Dean—” and he kissed you again, “—you can’t just—” another kiss, “distract me with this stuff—” another kiss, “—when we’re in the middle of a serious discussion.”

Dean kissed you once more and pulled you to straddle his hips. “It’s working, isn’t it?”

“Unfortunately,” you smiled against his lips.

When Dean tried to grind up into you, though, you suddenly jerked back from him.

He looked up at you in concern. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head, tears swimming in your eyes. “I— I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s—”

“It’s okay,” Dean assured you. “We don’t have to do anything. It’s alright.”

You laid down on Dean’s chest, closing your eyes and trying to steady your breathing. Dean kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you to comfort you. Oh, how grateful you were to know him.

***

Later that day, you and Dean walked back to the Impala after investigating a few of the houses where accidents had happened recently. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; no cold spots, no EMF, nothing resembling a creature’s lair. It was all very “Stepford” in Dean’s opinion.

When you’d almost reached the car, Dean abruptly grabbed your arm. You gasped slightly and turned to face the direction he was.

“That’s him,” Dean whispered. “That’s the kid.”

You looked ahead at a little boy with spiky brown hair wearing a canvas jacket sitting sadly on a park bench.

Dean slid his hand down your arm to your hand and pulled you along with him. “Hey, Ben,” he told the kid.

The boy looked up at Dean. “Hey. You were at my party.” Ben seemed to notice you for the first time. “ ‘Sup?” the little guy nodded at you, attempting to smirk through his apparent sadness.

‘Jesus, this really might be Dean’s kid,’ you thought.

“I'm Dean, this is (Y/N),” he said, sitting down next to Ben on the bench. You stood next to Dean cautiously. “Everything okay? Something wrong?” Dean asked Ben, who didn’t respond.

You noticed the empty gaming console case Ben was holding and looked out to the field to see a group of four boys playing with something that looked just about the size to fit the case.

“Is that your game they're playing with?” the older Winchester asked Ben.

The little boy wouldn’t look at you or Dean. “Ryan Humphrey borrowed it, and now, he won't give it back.”

Dean was immediately ready to beat up eight-year-olds. “Well, you want me to go—”

“No!” Ben exclaimed, grabbing Dean’s arm. “Don't go over there! Only bitches send a grown-up.”

Dean grinned. “You’re not wrong.”

This whole interaction was completely flooring you; rendering you unable to add anything to the conversation.

“And I am not a bitch,” Ben finished.

Dean pointed to a boy wearing long cargo shorts holding the gaming console. “Is that Humphrey? The one that needs to lay off the burgers?”

The little boy smiled and nodded.

Dean hummed.

“Dean, what are you—”

He ignored you and turned to Ben to talk to him in a hushed voice. You couldn’t quite hear what Dean was telling him to do, and you were puzzled when Ben got up from the bench and started walking over to the group of boys.

“They’re gonna eat that poor kid alive, dude, what were you thinking?” you chastised him, shoving his shoulder lightly.

“Just watch,” Dean urged.

Ben turned back around to the two of you, and Dean offered him a thumbs-up and a grin.

A moment later, Ben turned away from the bullies before whipping back around and kicking the boy holding his game straight between his legs twice.

“Dean, what the fuck,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Ben walked back to you and Dean, triumphantly smiling and holding his game. “Thanks! Dude, that was awesome!”

Suddenly, a gorgeous woman stormed up to you, Dean, and Ben. “Benjamin Isaac Braeden! What has gotten into you?!”

“Gumby Girl,” you realized.

Dean smacked your thigh lightly to get you to be quiet.

“He stole my game!” Ben tried to explain.

“So you kick him? Since when is—” she looked down at Dean and scoffed. “Did you tell my son to beat up that kid?”

“What?” Dean was still smiling. “Somebody had to teach him how to kick the bully in the nads.”

“Who asked you to teach him anything?” Lisa argued.

“You’re right, he’s sorry,” you said, trying to pull Dean away.

“What are you even still doing here? We had one weekend together a million years ago. You don't know me. And you have no business with my son,” Lisa raged, grabbing Ben’s hand to walk off with him. “Just leave us alone.”

“He will!” you asserted, to both Lisa and Dean.

Ben broke out of his mother’s grip and ran back to Dean, wrapping his arms around his legs in a tight hug.

“Thanks,” Ben smiled up at Dean.

Your heart melted and broke at the sight.

As Ben returned to his mother, you saw three children a few yards beyond them standing in a straight line and turning their heads in tandem. Dean seemed to have noticed, too, and the two of you decided to get out of there as quickly as possible.

When you got into the Impala, you couldn’t say a word.

Dean looked over at you. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” you replied.

“You look like you’re suckin’ on a lemon. C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.

“He really does seem like your kid,” was all you could manage to say.

Dean sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

“And, uh, if that does end up being the case—”

“Whoa, what?” Dean cut you off. “Since when am I following up with that?”

You sighed. “I don’t know, Dean, if you are his father, the kid deserves to have you in his life.”

“Sweetheart, the best thing I can do for that kid is get the hell away from him,” Dean replied. “He doesn’t need to be anywhere near me or this life.”

“Why?” you said. “ ‘Cause you think you’d be bad at it? You were great with him today.— y'know, aside from encouraging assault.”

“Yeah, (Y/N), for two seconds,” he said. “Why are you pushing this anyway?”

You paused. “I don’t know, I thought it might just be good for you. Give you an opportunity to live out your last year in peace. Happy.”

Dean’s posture softened, and he said nothing for a moment. “Thanks, but no. I’d take you and huntin’ evil sons of bitches over Middle America any day.” He reached out to you and pulled you to him, placing a kiss to the side of your head.

***

When you arrived at the boys’ motel room, Sam was at his laptop researching.

“Somethin’s wrong with the kids in this town,” you told him as you took your jacket off.

Sam replied without looking away from his computer, “Yeah. Tell me about it. So, what do you know about changelings?”

“Evil monster babies?” Dean questioned.

“No, not babies,” you chimed in.

“They're kids,” Dean realized. “Creepy, ‘stare at you like you're lunch’ kids?”

Sam nodded. “There's one at every victim's house.”

“Oh, that’s just perfect,” you mumbled.

“What?” Sam questioned.

“We got a pile of missing kids being kept in a hole somewhere and a fuckton of changelings we gotta torch. Dean, where’s your kerosene?”

“Already on it,” he said, leaving the room.

“So, I’m guessing you talked things out,” Sam said once the door closed behind Dean.

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled playfully.

“So… you’re not leaving?” Sam questioned.

“No. Not yet, anyway,” you said, tone becoming more serious. “I’ll be there to tell him ‘bye,’ but I won’t watch him get dragged to hell. I can’t do that, Sam.”

The younger Winchester paused. “I get it. Hopefully, we won’t have to.”

Dean came back into the room not a moment later holding his torch and grinning.

“You and your gadgets,” you laughed warmly.

“So, changelings can perfectly mimic children,” Sam began. “According to lore, they climb in the window, snatch the kid. Y'know, there were marks on the windowsill at one of the kid's houses. Looked to me like blood.”

“The changeling grabs a kid, assumes its form, joins the happy fam just for kicks?” Dean questioned.

“I wish that were the case,” you said. “Changelings feed on the mom’s synovial fluid. Sam, did you notice any strange bruising on their backs? It’d be just below the base of their neck?”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Sam asked you.

“It’s the typical spot they feed from,” you replied. “On the end of their creepy, face-hugger-from-Alien tongues, they have these little spines that extend through the body to reach all those spaces between the joints. Pretty gnarly injuries.”

“Right,” Sam nodded. “Changelings can drain them for a few weeks before mom finally croaks.”

“And then, there's dad and the babysitter,” Dean added, referencing two of the victims.

“Yeah. Seems like anyone who gets between the changeling and its food source ends up dead,” Sam finished.

“And fire’s the only way to kill ‘em,” you said, nodding at Dean’s torch. “See why I was worried about all this?”

“Yeah,” Dean huffed. “Great.”

“According to lore, they stash the kids underground somewhere,” Sam continued, “I don't know why, but if it's true, the real kids might be out there.”

“We better start looking,” Dean asserted, seeming to have something on his mind.

“What?” you asked.

He hesitated before answering you with a question. “Any kid in the neighborhood is vulnerable?”

You nodded.

“We gotta make a stop. I wanna check on someone,” Dean told you, and you knew he meant Ben.

Dean held your gaze as Sam began to protest. “Well Dean, if the real kids are still alive, we don't have time. We—”

“We have to,” Dean stated firmly.

***

Throughout the drive to Lisa’s house, you tried your best to remain calm. You weren’t truly worried about the potential that Ben could’ve been kidnapped or by the fact that Dean was upset, it was the thought of Lisa and Ben potentially taking Dean away from you. You knew your fear was irrational and maybe even a bit toxic, but you still worried that maybe Dean was still attracted to Lisa. Or maybe Dean was Ben’s dad and would be obligated to see and spend time around the two of them. The thought nearly made you throw up while you watched Dean knock on Lisa’s door.

You saw Lisa yelling at him, and Dean ran back over to the Impala seeming incredibly worried. “They took Ben. He's changed,” Dean explained, hurriedly getting into the car.

“What?! Are you sure?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, I'm sure. I checked his windowsill,” the older brother nodded.

“Blood?”

“I don't think it is blood, and I think I know where the kids are.”

***

Dean drove quickly toward a house under construction with a large mound of red dirt sitting on the lawn outside of it. The exterior of the home was almost finished, and the “For Sale” sign on the lawn was stained partially by the dirt.

“Red dirt,” Sam noted, bending down to inspect the sign. “That's what was on the window.”

“Ah, you take the front,” Dean told Sam. “(Y/N), take the left side; I got the other.”

You nodded and set off, gun and flashlight drawn. You crept around the corners of the house until you came to a set of doors angled down to a cellar. You jumped down into it and found small, empty cages lining the walls.

“What do you think you're doing?” a voice suddenly asked from behind you.

You looked up at the entrance of the cellar to see a redheaded woman glaring at you.

“You’re staying here until I can get the police here,” the woman said, pulling out her phone.

“Wait, wait,” you tried. “I’m sorry, I was just looking for a place to stay for the night.”

“Then why do you have a gun?” she hissed.

“Self-defense,” you replied coolly. “Please, I’m sorry, I’ll go.”

The redhead tsked and shook her head. “I don’t think you will.” She stood from the entrance to the cellar and closed both doors on you.

“Wait, no!” You rushed toward the doors, but it was too late. She had latched them shut by the time you got to them. Immediately, you started banging on the doors and trying to get them open. You turned around to one of the cages and picked it up, hurling it at the closed doors. You tried again and again, using the cage to hit the door, your shoulder to slam into it, and even tried using a piece of wire from the cage to take off the hinges, but nothing worked. Helplessly, you banged on the door and screamed for Sam and Dean.

Suddenly, you began to smell smoke.

‘Oh, fuck,’ you thought, breath quickening with urgency. You slammed your body into the doors as hard as you could manage.

Across the cellar from you, the flames began to catch the ceiling, creating a gaping hole in the floor for debris and fiery planks of wood to fall through. You slammed into the doors once more, screaming for Dean.

The smoke in the room began to fill your lungs and forced a cough out of you. You screamed Dean’s name again hoarsely, turning around briefly to see the fire had spread incredibly close to you. If you didn’t get out soon, the whole building would collapse on your head.

“Dean, please!” you screamed.

Suddenly, you heard the door to the cellar unlatching.

“(Y/N)?!”

“Dean!” you cried.

He threw the doors open and pulled you out of the smoldering building. He quickly checked you over for injuries, cupping the sides of your face. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Let’s go!” You grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him around to the front of the house, running as fast as your legs would carry you as flames taunted you dangerously close to your face. You ran across the street to where Sam was standing with a crowd of terrified children and Ben.

“Sam!” you exclaimed. “Everybody okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Sam replied.

Ben seemed shaken up, but he was trying to comfort the other kids around him. You smiled down at him. Dean was exactly the same way. No matter what was going on in his own head, he always checked on the needs of others first. It was one of the things you loved most about him; he was always showing you what compassion truly looked like.

***

When the fire department had come and the children— all except for one— had been returned home, you and the boys drove Ben back to Lisa’s house.

“Ben?!” the woman called, running out of the house. “Baby, are you okay?”

Ben ran to his mom and hugged her. “I'm okay, Mom.”

“Oh, my god,” Lisa sobbed. “What the hell just happened?”

“I'll explain everything if you want me to,” Dean started, “but, trust me, you probably don't. The important thing is that Ben's safe.”

“Thank you,” Lisa surged forward and hugged Dean. “Thank you.”

Dean seemed hesitant for which you were thankful, but still returned her hug.

Ben turned to head into his house, and Lisa moved to follow. She turned back to Dean apprehensively. “Do you— wanna come inside?” she asked.

“Uh, no thanks,” Dean replied. “We, uh, gotta hit the road.”

Lisa nodded, deflating slightly.

“But… you’re a hundred-percent sure Ben’s not mine, right?” Dean asked.

She nodded and smiled. “You're off the hook. I did a blood test when he was a baby.”

“Oh,” Dean replied. “Good.”

“I... I swear you look disappointed,” Lisa noted.

“Yeah, I don't know. It's weird, you know your life... I mean, this house and a kid…” he trailed off. “It's not my life. Never will be. Some stuff happened to me recently, and, uh... Anyway, a guy in my situation— you start to think, y’know. I'm gonna be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a car?”

“I don't know. Ben may not be your kid, but,” Lisa began, “he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you. That's a lot if you ask me.”

Dean nodded and turned back to you and his brother who stood by the car watching silently. “You know, just for the record…” He turned back to Lisa. “You got a great kid. I would've been proud to be his dad.”

Lisa smiled at him, as did you, before Dean headed back to the driver’s seat. For once, Sam let you sit in the passenger’s seat, and you popped a Faith No More cassette into the Impala’s built-in player.

***

A few hours into the drive, Sam had fallen asleep. You and Dean were left holding each other’s hand in silent support; a reassurance the other was there and okay.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? To Lisa?” you murmured.

“About what?”

“Leaving nothing behind except a car?” you continued.

“Aw, c’mon—” Dean sighed.

“No, Dean. That’s crap,” you quietly said. “You have a legacy. Everything you’ve ever done has been out of love and compassion. That is who you are. That’s what you’re leaving behind.”

Dean’s eyes flicked toward you, his expression unreadable. He was quite literally the only person to ever confuse your intuitive, watchful eye with his thoughtful, complicated expressions.

The older Winchester turned his eyes back to the road and brought your entwined hands to his lips, kissing the backs of your knuckles.

You reveled in the feeling, knowing the feeling of his lips on your skin in this moment, the pattern of Sam’s breathing steadily in the backseat, and the way his hand felt in yours would be a memory you’d need to hold onto when he was gone. Maybe that way, you’d be able to find peace; knowing that not even death could completely tear Dean away from you.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #spn #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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thefreshprinceofjunes · 8 months ago

Text

soriku endgame: an imagining

OKAY WELL HERE IT IS

TEN WHOLE PAGES OF HOW SORIKU ENDGAME MIGHT ACTUALLY PLAY OUT

i was rewatching vin play RE2 and fsr this invaded my thoughts and wouldnt leave

this is barely proofread and i reused a lot of the same words/phrases BUT its just meant to be an outline/abridged version so keep that in mind

(if i got any lore wrong tho pls let me know)

btw if you dont want to read this on tumblr for whatever reason, heres a link to the google doc

note: this is going off the assumption MoM saw everything (or at least everything soriku) through the gazing eye

scene is quadratum probably. master of masters (or whoever the bad guy in kh4 is) has sora and riku caught in a bad situation (for temporary visuals im picturing something similar to the dark guardian restraining aqua and ven in kh3)

sora and riku are struggling to break free, while the MoM just laughs. some kh dramatic banter occurs, before MoM changes the subject and starts monologuing (with sora and riku probably interjecting here and there)

MoM: [to sora] you still havent figured it out yet, have you?

MoM: dont you ever wonder why rikus heart holds as vast of a darkness as it does?

MoM: its not because of jealousy, or ansem, or even his desire for strength since you were children.

MoM: no, its much simpler than that.

MoM: remember that dream you had, sora? before the islands were destroyed?

MoM: there was a voice speaking to you, from deep within your heart:

MoM: 'the closer you get to the light, the greater your shadow becomes.'

MoM: well, the road goes both ways, kid. the deepest of darknesses can only come from the brightest of lights.

sora: wh-what are you saying?

MoM: its been in front of all along, but you were too blind to see it.

cut to voiceless flashbacks of all the times sora encountered the brightest light: when receiving the keyblade, when almost pulled out of sleep by the memory of aqua on DI, during the dive to heart at the beginning of kh3 (assuming it really happened and wasnt just for gameplay purposes), and after using the power of waking at the KBG (the tunnel scene)

sora looks at riku, then back at MoM. riku is grimacing.

sora: that… that was… that was rikus light?

MoM: bingo!

MoM: but theres even more to it than that.

MoM: theres another force of power in this universe that keeps light and dark in harmony

sora: another…?

MoM: you feel an unfathomable depth of it in your heart for, well, pretty much everyone youve ever met.

MoM: what lies in rikus heart, however, comes from the same place, but is also very, very different. its something you claim to not understand, even though youve encountered it many times during your adventures.

rikus eyes widen and he tries to interject, but the MoM physically stops him; sora calls out for him

MoM: its more than just friendship. its hearts that are really, truly connected between two people.

MoM: think about it. think about all the times when everything seemed hopeless, but something, something, kept the bad guys from winning. it wasnt light.

cut to voiceless flashbacks between many of the disney couples sora has met: the beast arriving at hollow bastion out of sheer force of will in his search for belle, flynn sacrificing himself for rapunzel and her tears bringing him back to life (some shit with will/elizabeth and sam/quorra too maybe idk), and finally, herc gaining his strength back as he rescues megara from styx, followed by herc saying, 'people always do crazy things when theyre in love.'

sora stares ahead at nothing in particular, before wincing in pain; suddenly, a forgotten memory surfaces in his mind (if the convo with NS confirms he hasnt completely forgotten, then its the key details that have been missing):

rikus sacrifice in the KBG

riku calls out for him and struggles, but MoM just laughs so more.

MoM: there, now its coming back to you. and that wasnt the only time riku sacrificed everything for you, yknow, although it was probably the most heroic instance. remember him taking on ansems form to beat roxas? and his dive into your heart to wake you from slumber, despite the tremendous danger? you only met her briefly, but one of the princesses of heart experienced something very similar.

MoM: aurora. maleficent placed a curse on her when she was a baby, causing the princess and the rest of the kingdom to fall into a deep sleep on her 16th birthday. but the heir to a nearby kingdom, prince phillip, valiantly fought his way to the castle, and woke up the sleeping beauty– through a kiss. a kiss, of true…

MoM trails off and looks at riku, then back at sora, expectantly. riku is still struggling to free himself before the truth is revealed, but its no use.

sora stares off again, before looking MoM in the eyes.

sora: … love…?

MoM does jazz hands and poses.

MoM: ding ding ding ding! we have a winner! it only took you, what, 12, 13 years to figure it out? honestly, i just couldnt stand watching it go on for any longer.

MoM: but, hey, i still have my honor. if im wrong, im more than happy to apologize.

MoM turns to riku then.

MoM: well? am i wrong, riku?

riku doesnt respond, and MoM sighs dramatically.

MoM: still no answer? okay, guess well have to do this the hard way.

MoM starts hurting sora, causing him to cry out in pain while riku watches helplessly

MoM: come on, riku! do it! use your true strength! unleash the power hidden within your heart!

sora gasps and winces, barely getting out rikus name

suddenly, theres a bright flash of pink energy (maybe rikus eyes also turn dream eater pink too?)

(if the power of love is too cheesy even for kh, then maybe its a black and white darkness/light combo attack)

riku breaks free of whatever MoM did to him, and then channels the energy through his arm, blasting it through soras restraints.

unfortunately, sora was being held in the air, and starts to fall– but in the blink of eye, riku is there to catch him in his arms.

MoM laughs in triumph and draws back slightly.

MoM: there we go!

MoM then shrugs.

MoM: well, this was fun, but ive got places to be. and im sure you two have a lot to talk about. toodles!

MoM disappears, leaving sora and riku in stunned silence.

after a moment, riku sets sora down and turns away from him, avoiding soras gaze.

sora meanwhile takes a second to catch his breath, before staring at riku with wide eyes.

sora: r… riku… is… is that...? is that really… how you feel?

riku clenches his fists at his sides and stays turned away. after a pause, he responds.

riku: … even if it is, it doesnt matter.

sora: what do you mean?

riku: i know… im not the one for you.

riku takes a deep breath.

riku: … when you were put to sleep for a year to fix your memories, some of them found their way into xion. they happened to be your most important memories– the ones you couldnt wake up without.

riku: those… were your memories of kairi. and xion took on her appearance because of them.

sora is stunned, only having been vaguely made aware of what happened in that year.

sora: k… kairi?

riku nods solemnly.

riku: yeah. and the only reason your memories got messed with in the first place is because the organization forced namine to make herself the person most important to you, instead of kairi.

sora pauses.

sora: you mean… castle oblivion.

riku nods again.

sora watches, before feeling a pain in his heart and grabbing at his chest instinctively.

underneath his hand, he can feel the cold metal of his crown necklace.

and thats when it finally clicks.

everything blurs, and theres a sudden rush of memories.

(maybe a memory sequence that you actually play through?)

sora, holding kairis wayfinder in castle oblivion. suddenly, the memory gets static-y, like during soras memory restoration.

cut to namine confessing to sora shes not the girl he cares about– but every time the word is feminine, its distorted by video static. (this is how we fix the aitsu thing)

"no. the g̸͓̦͙̫̮̦̠͗͐͗̊͑̕͝i̷͖̝̝̱̐ͅͅŗ̸̄̆̓̆̊̄̿l̶̮͉̦͓͔̹̀̂͗͝ͅ you care about...the one who was always with you... its not me. its ḧ̴̳͔̻̾̇e̵͚͂̀r̸̺̣̠̓̂̀̚."

cut to namine speaking to sora before he goes to sleep.

“but theres another promise you made—a promise to someone you could never replace. s̵̹̀͗͜h̷͇͇͌̆̐e̷̡̛̱'̷̦̆s̵̫͖̦̄̈̄ your light. the light within the darkness. if you can remember h̷̼̼̜͚͒e̸̢̡̤̹̬͖͐̒͒̾r̸͓̣̜̼̜̠͚͂̋̃...all the memories lost in the shadows of your heart will come into the light."

cut to a flashback of repliku talking about their shared promise. again, the feminine words are indecipherable.

"there was a meteor shower one night when s̶̳̄͑̆̅̆͗h̴͍̞͖͙͑̔̋̈́̎̈̾ę̷̧̰̰̖̝͆̆̕̚ and i were little... n̸̨̙̼͑̽ả̴̗͕̮́͊͝m̴̻̳͚̒i̸̳̟͑n̶̡̥̋̑̌é̸͍̦͑͐͋́ got scared and said, what if a shooting star hits the islands? so i told ḧ̷̡̬̽̅͆̊ė̸̙̩̠̥̿̃̚͠r̶̛̥̻̖̉̾̽͝, if a shooting star comes this way, ill protect you! and then—"

cut back to the memory pod.

"look at the g̴̬͛̄̚͘ŏ̴̞̙̰̍͂̀ö̴̘̥̗̱̐͋͆ͅď̷̨͙̙̩̓́͝ ̸̢̋̈́̂̚ļ̷̯̥̲̪̐̋͌̾̚ṵ̵̼̥̥͖̎c̸̱̟̹̚ķ̸̭̱̖̓̇ͅ ̷͇̳̃̑́͑͐͜ͅc̸̢̤̈̈́̊̚̕h̵̙̗̓͊̾ͅą̷̣̮̞̾̈́r̶̜̜͓̥̀́͋͝m̸̺̖͈̖͓̊̀̕. i changed its shape when i changed your memory. but when you thought of ẖ̴͚̙̆ȅ̴̡̛̞̲̥̼̋͐r̸̹̱̐, it went back to the way it was."

finally, a few more lines from namine.

"remembering one thing leads to remembering another, and then another... your memories are connected, like links in a chain. those same chains are what anchor us all together. i dont destroy memories. i just take apart the links and rearrange them. you still have all your memories."

cut back to sora in the real world. everything is still blurry, but now rikus voice can be heard in the background calling for him, distorted.

and then, a flash of light.

nighttime. its still. everything is quiet and peaceful.

young sora and riku are walking back from the beach.

suddenly, theres a bright streak across the sky.

sora and riku both gasp.

then, another. and another. and another.

the night of the meteor shower.

riku watches the sky in amazement– until he feels a tug on his arm.

he glances at his side and sees sora, utterly terrified and clinging on to him for dear life.

sora: wahhhh!! r-r-riku, the sky is falling!!

riku laughs.

riku: no, those are shooting stars. theyre way up high in the sky.

sora however is not convinced, and keeps shaking as tears start to well up in his eyes.

sora: b-but…! theres so many of them. and theyre so fast!! what if a shooting star hits the islands?!

the reality of soras mood finally sets in, and riku is left staring as he tries to think of what to do.

hanging from his pocket is his wooden sword.

the words of the man with the real sword echo in his mind:

“no more borders around, or below, or above, so long as you champion the ones you love."

riku grabs his sword then and holds it up to the sky as he looks at sora, courage glinting in his eyes.

riku: if a shooting star comes this way, ill protect you! ill hit it right back into outer space!

sora sniffles as he watches riku swing the sword around.

sora: r-really?

riku nods his head confidently.

riku: i will. i promise!

after a moment of thought, riku reaches into his pocket and pulls out a silver chain with a crown dangling from the end.

riku: here. take this. i found it the other day.

with the magic of cutscene, riku somehow turns the chain into a necklace, and then reaches over to hang it around soras neck.

riku: whenever you get scared, all you have to do is look at this, and remember that ill always be there to protect you. no matter what.

tears run down soras face as he looks at the necklace.

the voice of the strange girl theyd met before rings through his mind:

"so then if something happens, and riku is about to get lost—or say, he starts wandering down a dark path alone—you make sure to stay with him and keep him safe. thats your job, sora, and im counting on you to do it, okay?"

sora gulps and then reaches out to grab rikus free hand in both of his own. riku is surprised by this.

sora: ill… ill protect you too! i-i know im not as strong as you, but ill… ill try! i promise!

riku is taken aback for a moment, before he smiles gently at sora.

riku: … thanks, sora.

afterward, a multitude of quick flashbacks to all the times sora and riku protected each other, culminating in seeing the KBG sacrifice one more time.

fade to back.

in a hotel room (or smth similar), sora suddenly sits up straight in a bed, heart beating rapidly.

sora: riku!

(paralleling when riku called out for him after waking up from the dive into his heart in ddd)

riku has been seated at the edge of the bed, waiting and worrying. when he realizes soras awake, he scoots down the bed towards him.

riku: sora! youre okay!

after catching his breath, sora looks around the room, confused.

sora: … what… happened?

riku: you passed out, so i brought you here. how are you feeling?

sora puts a hand to his head, grimacing slightly at his pulsing headache. but that doesnt matter right now.

sora: im… im fine. listen, riku… i saw… i saw some of the things that happened at CO.

rikus eyes widen.

riku: you did?

sora: yeah. i saw you… well, a version of you. and namine. namine…

sora looks into rikus eyes.

sora: she… she was wrong. or… maybe i was wrong, and she just played along for my sake…

riku: huh? what are you talking about?

sora swallows as his voice starts shaking, just a little.

sora: kairi… kairi wasnt the one most special to me. you were. i remember… i remember the night of the meteor shower.

sora clutches at the crown necklace.

sora: all this time, id thought id remembered everything important… but i forgot about it. [sighs] im sorry, riku

riku stays quiet for a moment, before putting on a forced smile.

riku: its fine, sora. we were little kids.

sora frowns.

sora: but… you never forgot, did you?

riku shrugs, and theres a moment of silence between them, before riku speaks again.

riku: maybe i was the one most important to you back then, but its not the same now. thats alright. im just happy to be your friend. i know how you feel about kai-

sora suddenly moves forward, closer to riku, now yelling as he cuts him off.

sora: i get to decide how i feel, riku! its my heart!

riku is taken aback at the shouting, and stares in shock. sora realizes hes gotten loud, and takes a moment to calm down.

dearly beloved starts to play in the bg

sora: i… i know now. maybe it took me a long time, but… i figured it out. the person most important to me… all along, its been you.

riku freezes up in pure shock. he cant believe what hes hearing. hed talked himself out of hoping for this day long ago.

sora finally smiles again.

sora: youre the one i love.

(paralleling prince eric with ariel)

BOOM FIREWORKS MAGIC SORIKU ENDGAME

riku is absolutely speechless, staring at sora with his mouth agape.

sora gives riku a sheepish grin, now growing nervous at the lack of a response.

sora: and… im the one you love… right?

after a second, riku returns soras smile– and, for the very first time in the series, starts crying.

he nods, shakily.

riku: … yeah. yeah, i do. i always have.

riku wipes at his eyes to stop crying, but its futile. the tears flow even harder.

sora feels himself start crying, too, but hes laughing at the same time.

he pulls riku into a hug, grabbing his upper back tightly.

without any hesitation whatsover, riku returns the embrace, holding onto sora in the same way.

(like so [sora in orange, riku in teal])

fade to black.

then they kill the MoM, get married, and live happily ever after. the end. :)

love balancing light and dark is largely taken from these tags by @osrinlore on this video of mine btw:

#kingdom hearts #soriku #kh4 #kh meta #ali's kh meta #ali's fanfic #not really but tagging for organization (altho i might post it on my ao3 if i decide to clean it up)#long post #text heavy post #soriku endgame actually #riku is the light #the necklace theory #pls appreciate my mspaint mouse drawing #also if the COM quotes seem off its bc i took them from the khwiki (theyre from the og game n i am too lazy to type up the recom versions)

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theresattrpgforthat · 11 months ago

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hello! I've played the fallout ttrpg (the one they had to pull the rights from when it was pretty much done so they called it Exodus instead), I wish it didn't suck so bad! Is there any system I could borrow that would fit with Fallout's setting? I love the world in itself, but Exodus was rushed and published half-baked

THEME: Fallout

Hello friend, I have quite a few games for you to check out today! Some of them are direct homages, while others simply just have elements that might remind you of the video game.

Rebels of the Outlaw Wastes, by Nerdy Pup Games.

Play misfit outlaws fighting against the authoritarian Powers That Be in a hyper-saturated, film-grained, retro dystopia. Save the future with the power of friendship, whoopass, and explosions! Features sticker-based character advancement, effortless cinematic vehicle action, and player-driven Ride-or-Die system usings d4s, d6s, d8s, d10s, and d12s.

This game is a bit more colourful and punk-rock, and a little less morally grey than some of the more popular Fallout games. The designer cites some pretty colourful inspirations, such as FLCL and Six-String Samurai, but also concedes that you can make the tone fit that of Borderlands, Fallout, and Mad Max. It depends on how you build your world - what tech was there before? What kinds of weirdness persists? What beliefs have survived?

You’ll make skill rolls that can be boosted by gear or your personal style, with anything above a 4 granting you a success, with bonuses for rolling even higher at an 8 or a 12. Badges are the representations of character growth, tied to the skills that you choose to improve, somewhat like how concentrating on certain skills in Fallout gives you access to perks. If you want a stripped-down basic idea of the rules for this game, the designer has a Pay-what-you-want playtest that you can download for free, just to dip your toes in the water.

Earth: After Death, by Hammer City Games.

Boasting deep and crunchy mechanics reminiscent of the golden age of 90s TTRPGs, Earth, After Death focuses on OSR-style gaming, dungeon and hex crawling, fast-paced combat, high lethality, and a unique and fascinating setting to explore.

There’s plenty to do: kill mutants, explore ancient ruins, get lethal radiation poisoning, find a gun that has infinite ammunition, use psionic powers to blow up peoples heads, replace your legs with tank treads, and more!

This is a chunky, old-school style game that takes care to mention that your level-up system is just like the advancement system in Fallout games. You’ll be dealing with mutations, ghost machines, bartering for gear, and hex-crawling through dangerous wastelands. The character sheets point to a lot of moving pieces, so if you like wrangling together a character that does exactly what you want them to do, you’re going to have a lot to play with here. It looks like mutation is also a pretty big deal in this game, with over 100 different kinds advertised on the game’s store page.

Right now just the Wasteland’s Handbook is available to purchase, but the kickstarter for this game will be taking off later this year. If this sounds like your kind of game, then maybe hop over to the website to get in on the first full edition as it releases!

Fallout: The Roleplaying Game, by Modiphius.

In 2077, the storm of nuclear war reduced most of the planet to cinders. From the ashes of nuclear devastation, a new civilization will struggle to arise. A civilization you will shape. How will you re-shape the world? Will you join with a plucky band of survivors to fight off all-comers and carve out your own settlement? Will you team up with pre-existing factions like the Brotherhood of Steel or Super Mutants to enforce your own ideals on the Wasteland? Ghoul or robot, paladin or raider, it’s your choice - and the consequences are yours. Welcome to the Wasteland. Welcome to the world of Fallout.

Utilizing Modiphius’ celebrated 2d20 cinematic role-playing system, the Fallout RPG will take players on an exciting journey into the post-apocalypse! Create your own survivors, super mutants, ghouls, and even Mister Handy robots. Immerse yourselves in the iconic post-nuclear apocalyptic world of Fallout, while gamemasters guide their group through unique stories and encounters. The 2d20 edition of Fallout is as close to the bottlecap bartering, wasteland wandering, Brotherhood battling excitement as you can get.

Modiphius gets the license to make a lot of games for different properties, so a Fallout game fits in alongside other big titles like Dune, John Carter of Mars, and Alien. This company uses their own 2d20 system, with a focus on inventory and Perks in an effort to make the game recognizable to any typical Fallout fan.

That being said, the game has come under fire for being poorly edited and inconsistent when it comes to finding the right rule. The company updated the game last year and released a Settler’s Guide book, so this might be something that’s a bit more read-able now. But if you want something set directly in the Fallout universe, this is your game.

WASTELAND, by MaelikGames.

WASTELAND is a simple tabletop RPG about adventurers in the world that has only recently became hospitable after a War that might not end all wars, but almost ended the world. You and your friends decide whether this world is bleak and hopeless, like the one in Metro, or somewhat whimsical, as in Fallout.

Much of the inspiration from Fallout appears in the character options of this game. Arkanites are homages to Vault-Dwellers, Radkin are inspired by Ghouls, and robots are, well, robots. The talents also look like they are directly inspired by Fallout perks, such as Animal Friend, which allows you to turn hostile animals into allies. Gear and inventory are both very important in this game, which is something that I never find surprising in post-apocalyptic games, since having to track inventory feels like a pretty important thing in a game about scarcity. Your skills are also based on a percentage of success, because you’re rolling a d100, with the goal of rolling under your target number. If you’re looking for a game that can mechanically reflect much of what’s available in the Fallout video games, this might be for you!

Dystopia Rising: Evolution, by Onyx Path.

No one knows how long it’s been since the world was blasted with nuclear radiation and became infested with the undead. The survivors of the Fall were the first strain of deviation of the human condition and were able to make it through the rapidly spreading epidemic. Finding a community of decent size in this world is rare; finding one that has any concept of equality or morality is rarer still.

Oh, and people have the unnerving ability to come back from the dead, regrown from the very virus that destroyed the world.

This is a completely different world from Fallout and yet I think it might still be worth talking about in this rec post. Dystopia Rising has a rich, detailed world, with various factions and faiths, and your characters are differentiated by the Strains that have helped them survive. There are plenty of conflicting beliefs that can be the seeds for unlimited conflict, including various faiths in things like evolution or the preservation of humanity, strains that give you psychic powers, and a universal ability to come back to the dead so many times before you’re turned into a mindless zombie.

There’s plenty of opportunity to fight things hand-to-hand, but there’s just as many possibilities to politic your way out of tough scenarios, which is a hallmark of Fallout New Vegas. Not only that, there's no clear "good guys": this is a complicated world with complicated people. If you want a game that carries a lot of similar themes of Fallout but puts you in a new setting, maybe check out this game.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Extinction Punk, by Extinction Punk.

Wastoid, by Jason Tocci.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #fallout #post-apocalyptic #bittersweet futures

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misc-obeyme · 11 months ago

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Heyo, surprised but totally excited by your Cozy Comforts event

Can you do 4. Wind with Simeon, I fell in love with him again 🥰

4. Wind-Simeon

Pls lmk if I did this right, if not pls show me your preferred way for requests.

❤️❤️

Hello there my friend! You did the request perfectly!

Since the last thing I did for Simeon was hurt/comfort that featured mostly hurt, I wanted to do something fluffy this time. I hope it turned out okay! I just think this guy needs a win for once.

Thank you for participating!

COZY COMFORTS EVENT

GN!MC x Simeon with prompt wind

Warnings: none

From the moment Simeon met you, he knew it was over for him. He couldn't stop thinking about the sparkles in your eyes and the warmth of your presence. He admired your confidence when it came to being a human among demons. He loved the sound of your voice when you said his name.

It was clear that you were occupied by the others. Simeon was certain that he couldn't hope for anything more than friendship from you. Sometimes he felt a little spark of hope anyway when you looked at him. He fought it down with all that he had.

Despite his best intentions, Simeon found it almost impossible, especially when he watched you with Luke. Your endless patience, your willingness to try any pastry creation, and your gentle affection meant so much to him.

That tiny streak of angelic power from generations back felt more like the true essence of your being to him. It resonated between you, even if you didn't quite realize it.

Simeon cherished the rare moments when he had you all to himself. So he was pleased when he was able to ask you to accompany him to a new cafe that had recently opened. The two of you enjoyed each other's company along with some delicious drinks. It was a blissful, peaceful time that Simeon wished would never end.

Inevitably, though, he found himself walking you back to the House of Lamentation.

It was a cold and blustery day. You were bundled in a coat and scarf. You looked so cute with your slightly flushed cheeks, tinged from the chill of the wind.

It was a sweet feeling to be so close to you. Simeon desperately wanted to reach out and take your hand, but he held back.

He was shocked when he felt your warm fingers close around his. A swirl of butterflies fluttered through his stomach and Simeon almost laughed. When was the last time he had felt something like that? And from such a simple touch.

The two of you reached the House of Lamentation faster than he would have liked. He tried not to seem reluctant about letting go of your hand.

You smiled as you stood on the path to the house. "I had a nice time today," you said.

There was something in your voice that he hadn't heard before. Something deep and thoughtful, like you had more to say, but you didn't know how to say it.

"So did I, MC," Simeon replied in his usual way, keeping his own smile intact.

The wind that had been blowing through the Devildom all day decided to kick up right at that moment. It pressed itself against both of your bodies, your hair streaming off in one direction, leaves cascading from the nearby trees in the garden.

When it died again, Simeon said, "Hold on, MC."

You stilled as he took several steps toward you, stopping so close he could feel the warmth of your body against his, even though you weren't touching.

Simeon reached out toward your face, his hand brushing against your cheek as he picked a leaf off of your scarf. He couldn't help watching your wide eyes, meeting them directly as he let his fingers linger against your skin.

"You have one, too," you said. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair.

Simeon had to suppress a shiver at the feeling of your hand in his hair. He felt almost bereft when you pulled it back, a leaf now clutched between your fingers.

"Thank you," Simeon managed to say, but he was sure you could hear the desperation in his voice.

Your smile was brilliant. You leaned forward and kissed his cheek before turning away to go into the House of Lamentation. You paused at the door, turning around to wave goodbye at him before going inside.

The hope that flared in Simeon's heart filled him with a special happiness. As he started on his way back to Purgatory Hall, he sent a silent thank you to the still blustering wind.

cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me x reader #obey me simeon #om simeon #obey me simeon x reader #om simeon x reader #obey me simeon x mc #om simeon x mc #simeon #simeon x reader #simeon x mc #misc cozy comforts #misc writes

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 7 months ago

Text

Every Little Thing She Does is Magic, Chapter 2

Pairing: Platonic Steven Grant x Reader (for now)

Rating: T

Word count: ~2800

Story Summary: Steven meets a beautiful woman in the Egyptian exhibit at the British Museum...

...Too bad she's his new boss.

Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent since Steven still works for the British Museum post-canon, No Jake Lockley, developing friendship

A/N: Here we are with chapter 2!

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this (or any of my other writing), please let me know!

Title from the song of the same name by The Police.

“...Also, leave room for questions in between exhibits instead of just powering on through -- oh, who am I bloody kidding,” Steven said to himself as he went over his notes in the men’s room before his meetings with Dr. Y/L/N on Friday morning. “I can't do this. I can't. I never should have accepted this position. Is it too late to tell Dr. Y/L/N that I've changed my mind?”

“Hey, no, none of that,” Marc replied in his head. “You're gonna be great.”

Steven caught Marc’s reflection in the mirror. “You really think so?”

Marc nodded. “Your ideas are good. Besides, Dr. Y/L/N wouldn't have given you the job had she not believed you could do it.”

Steven took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Clearly she saw something in me, right?”

“Exactly. Now, go get ‘em.”

Steven squared his shoulders. “Okay, off I go.”

He exited the restroom and headed upstairs to the meeting room, knocking lightly on the door before entering.

He froze as he saw Dr. Y/L/N and the entire Curatorial team already seated. Oh, bollocks. Way to make a first impression. “Sorry, am I late?”

Dr. Y/L/N looked up at him and smiled. “Ah, Steven! No, you're not late at all. Have a seat, I'm glad you could join us.”

Steven sat in an empty seat across from her.

Dr. Y/L/N shuffled some papers in front of her. “Okay, let's get started. First, I'd like to thank you all for making me feel so welcome during my first week as museum director. I know I have some big shoes to fill, but I truly think we have a wonderful team here and I'm looking forward to working with all of you to make the museum's collection the best it possibly can be.

“Second, I'm assuming you all know Steven Grant, who is currently one of our gift shop employees but as of this coming Monday will be our Visitor Engagement Specialist.”

Steven gave a small wave as six pairs of eyes turned towards him. “Er, hello.”

“Steven’s first task as our new VES will be to update the guided tours,” Dr. Y/L/N explained, “so I asked him to sit in on today's meeting so he can include our new artifacts in his planning. Christina, why don't you go ahead and tell us about them.”

Christina, the head of the Curatorial department, cleared her throat. “Yes, well, the Cairo Museum has very generously loaned us the coffin of Akhenaten as well as a rather extensive collection of funerary masks from various ancient Egyptian kings and queens. Steven, I can email the list of who they were made for to you this afternoon.”

Steven nodded. “That sounds brilliant, thanks.”

“We'll have to pull a couple of display cases from the basement to house the masks, but we should be able to fit everything with the rest of the Ancient Egyptian artifacts on the 3rd floor without having to take anything out or move too much around, so that area should only be closed for a few days while we get the new display set up.”

“Excellent.” Dr. Y/L/N made a few notes. “Is there anything else that we would want to add or rearrange in any of the other areas while we're at it, to sort of refresh the rest of the collection?”

“Actually, a member just donated their private collection of first-edition classic British novels,” James, another member of the Curatorial staff, said. “There’s several Dickens, a couple of Austens, and even copies of Dracula and Wuthering Heights .”

Dr. Y/L/N’s eyebrows raised. “Have they been authenticated?”

James shook his head. “Not all of them. We're working on getting that done now.”

“Please let me know as soon as you do. I'd like to have those out on display as soon as possible as well. Anything else?”

Steven cleared his throat. “Er, actually, if I may…”

Dr. Y/L/N turned to him. “Yes, Steven?”

“If I remember correctly, a few years ago there was a lovely collection of Grecian pottery on display, but it was removed and I believe put in storage in order to make room for a statue of Zeus.”

“Oh, I think I know which collection you mean,” Christina replied. “The one that included a scene of Hercules fighting the Nemean lion?”

Steven nodded. “Yeah, that's the one. Do we still have that?”

Christina nodded as well. “Yeah, we still have them.”

“Perhaps we could put those back out?” Steven faltered when there was no immediate response. “Or not, I just thought…”

Christina shook her head. “No… no, you're right. We have the space for them, so there's no point in leaving them in storage.”

“Wonderful idea, Steven,” Dr. Y/L/N added. “Thank you. Any others?”

When no one else offered up any other ideas, she nodded. “Okay then, thank you everyone. I know sometimes things come to people after the fact or they don't feel comfortable sharing in a group setting, so if anyone has any other questions or ideas for sprucing up the displays my door is always open -- unless I'm in a meeting, of course, but in that case feel free to email me.”

As everyone began to stand and file out of the room, she looked over at Steven. “And speaking of meetings, instead of taking up the meeting room with just the two of us, how about you and I meet in my office instead, in say, 5 minutes or so? I need to stop off for some coffee first.”

Steven nodded, starting to get nervous again. Maybe I should brew myself a cup of tea while I'm at it. “Yes, ma’am.”

He headed downstairs to the staff kitchen, where Donna was sitting at a table eating a sandwich.

She glowered at him, but said nothing.

Steven caught Marc's reflection in the microwave. She doesn't look too pleased, Marc said with a smirk.

Steven bit back a smile as he filled the electric kettle with water then turned it on. Yeah, she's barely said two words to me ever since she had to apologize to me on Monday.

God, I wish I had been a fly on the wall for that meeting.

Steven grabbed a to-go cup and chose a tea bag before opening it and setting it in the cup. Me too, actually. It'd have been nice to see Donna get put in her place for once.

I just wish I'd have seen the look on her face when she found out that you were getting promoted to Visitor Engagement Specialist. I'm surprised she didn't quit in protest, especially since it meant she'd actually have to do inventory herself next week instead of pawning it off on you like she always did.

Steven shrugged slightly. I actually didn't really mind doing inventory. The stockroom was always quiet and it made the time pass by.

Once the kettle started boiling Steven poured the water for his tea into his cup and popped a lid on it. Alright, here I go.

He headed back upstairs to Dr. Y/L/N’s office and knocked on the open door. “Dr. Y/L/N?”

Dr. Y/L/N looked up from her computer screen and smiled. “Hi. Come on in.”

She stood and walked behind Steven as he entered, shutting the door behind him. “Have a seat.”

Steven sat in the same chair he had sat in on Monday when Dr. Y/L/N had offered him the VES position.

Dr. Y/L/N sat across from him and reached for a folder. “Alright, before we get started, I have the HR paperwork officially instating you into your new position ready for you to sign.”

She slid it over to him. “You can wait until Monday, of course, but I figured if you signed it today that'd be one less thing you'll have to worry about.”

“Oh, erm…” Steven opened the folder and quickly scanned the documents, still marveling at the massive (to him, anyway) raise that he would be receiving. “I can sign it today. That's not a problem.”

“Fantastic. Here you go then.” Dr. Y/L/N grabbed a pen and handed it to him. “By the way, I've scheduled a meeting with the rest of the Programming staff for first thing Monday morning to formally introduce you as the Visitor Engagement Specialist and to let them know that we'll be modifying the tours.”

Steven nodded and set his cup of tea down before signing the paperwork. “Oh, brilliant. Thanks.”

“By the way, it was really a great idea to add that pottery collection back to the Ancient Greece display. Your clear knowledge and enthusiasm for history and your attention to details like that is why I know I made the right decision in offering you the Visitor Engagement Specialist position.”

Steven flushed at the praise. “I, er, I took a bit of a wander through each area while I was making notes for our meeting and since I always liked that collection I thought it might bring some fun and excitement to the tours to be able to kind of tell the story depicted on each piece.”

He bit his lip. “I hope I didn't step on any toes by suggesting that though. I know that I was mostly just there to observe.”

Dr. Y/L/N shook her head. “No, I want to see collaboration between departments, especially between Programming and Curatorial. We're all part of the same team and are working together towards the same goal, so don't ever be afraid to make a suggestion.”

She took a sip of her coffee. “Now, what else do you have in mind to improve the tours?”

“Well…” Steven pulled his notebook and a map of the museum out of his messenger bag. “First off, I think we're going about the tours themselves the wrong way.”

He pointed at the map. “Currently, we're starting on the ground floor and working our way up to the fifth, which means when visitors make their way back down after the tour is over they mostly tend to just leave rather than stopping by the gift shop or the bookstore.”

Dr. Y/L/N nodded. “So what do you think we should do?”

Steven moved his finger to the group entrance. “What I suggest is that we have tours meet on level 1 at the group entrance and head up to level 5 whilst whoever is leading the tour gives a general overview of the museum, then we work our way through the collection back down to level 0 and end our tour there with a gentle reminder to check out our gift shop and bookstore.”

Dr. Y/L/N hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Steven was encouraged by Dr. Y/L/N’s positive reception. “Also, I believe we're spending too much time on certain exhibits and not enough time on others. There needs to be a better balance so we're not rushing through the last few exhibits trying to squeeze everything in because we've spent 20 minutes lecturing on the Siege of Lachish.”

Dr. Y/L/N huffed out a laugh. “I agree. I noticed that as well.”

She made a few notes. “Anything else?”

“Just that I also think we should allow time for a few questions about the collection while we're in each area rather than wait until the end of the tour. Again, we frequently run out of time so there's usually not even a chance for visitors to ask questions anyway, or if there is time we've thrown so much information at them that they've likely forgotten what it is they wanted to ask.”

Dr. Y/L/N made another note. “Absolutely. These are all really great ideas, Steven. Think you can implement them into a sample tour for me?”

Steven nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I can have something put together by Monday if you'd like. It won't include the new exhibits, of course, but it'll at least give you an idea of the direction I want to take the tours and give me a chance to retool them if necessary.”

“That would be wonderful.” Dr. Y/L/N reached for her coffee and took a sip. “By the way, how are things downstairs? Donna isn't still speaking disrespectfully to you, is she?”

Steven shook his head. “No, ma'am. Actually, she hasn't said much of anything at all to me since Monday.”

Dr. Y/L/N sighed. “Okay. I'll talk to her again.”

“No!” Steven cleared his throat. “Er, no. No, that's quite alright. I’d actually prefer it that way. Besides, it's not like I'll have to deal with her on a daily basis after today anyway, innit?”

Dr. Y/L/N took a sip of her coffee. “Regardless, I really am sorry that you’ve had to endure such treatment, especially for so long. No one should ever be spoken to with such blatant disrespect, especially by their supervisor.”

Steven nodded. “I appreciate that.”

“If Donna does ever speak to you like that again, please let me know.”

“I will.” Steven bit his lip. “If there's nothing else, I er, I should probably get back to the gift shop. Technically I'm still a clerk until Sunday.”

Dr. Y/L/N looked chagrined. “Oh my goodness, you're absolutely right. I’m sorry, I probably shouldn't have asked you to do anything pertaining to your new position just yet since you haven't officially started.”

Oh, bollocks, Steven thought. She thinks I'm complaining. “It's nothing like that, ma'am, it's just that I'm sure you're busy and I don't want to bother you by hovering, that's all.”

“Oh.” Dr. Y/L/N shook her head with a smile. “No, you're not bothering me at all. Most of what I've been doing all week is reading over museum policies and procedures and meeting with the board of trustees and various benefactors, so it's actually been nice to get a little break from that and talk to someone who actually works here.”

Ask her how she likes being here so far, Marc said in Steven's head.

Steven cleared his throat. “How has your first week as Director been otherwise?”

“It's been good. A lot to jump into, of course, but you and the rest of the staff have been incredibly kind and welcoming.” Dr. Y/L/N paused. “I wasn't quite sure how the staff would react to me, especially with me not being British.”

Steven shrugged. “Well, it's like you said, we're a team, right? That includes our team leader, no matter where you're from. Your qualifications speak for themselves.”

Dr. Y/L/N shot him a small smile. “I really appreciate that, thank you.”

Her office phone rang. “Sorry, one second.”

Steven waited as she pressed a button on the phone. “Yes?”

“Dr. Y/L/N, the Chairman from the Board of Trustees is on hold for you,” Helen, Dr. Y/L/N’s executive assistant, said through the speaker.

“Okay, one minute. I'm wrapping up a meeting.” Dr. Y/L/N sighed and picked up the receiver before covering the mouthpiece with her hand. “I'm sorry, Steven, I have to take this. If you happen to think of anything else you want to add to the tours or if you have any other questions or concerns, please let me know.”

“I will.” Steven put his notebook and map of the museum back in his messenger bag and stood.

He picked up his cup of tea. “Want me to close your door on my way out?”

Dr. Y/L/N shook her head. “No, you can leave it open. Thank you.”

Steven stood and started to walk towards the door.

“Oh, Steven?” Dr. Y/L/N called out. “One more thing.”

Steven stopped and turned back around. “Yes, ma'am?”

“If I don't see you again before you leave today… have a nice weekend.”

Steven smiled. “You too, ma'am. See you on Monday.”

I told you she'd like your ideas, Marc said as Steven headed out of Dr. Y/L/N’s office.

I really think I'm going to enjoy working with her, Steven replied. She seems really open to collaboration.

Yeah, she seems great.

Steven arrived at the elevator and pressed the button to go down. Maybe we can come back on Sunday when I'm off and do a trial run of the tour so I can double-check the timing. I want to be as prepared as I possibly can be.

I'm sure you'll impress the hell out of her.

Steven waited for the elevator to arrive, then stepped on and pressed the button for level 0 . He had to admit that he not only wanted to impress Dr. Y/L/N professionally, but he also wanted to impress her personally as well. I certainly hope so.

#lotmf writes #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant x female reader #steven grant x f!reader #steven grant fanfiction #ELTSDIM Masterlist

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builtbybrokenbells · 2 years ago

Text

Hate To Love You

Being around him was unbearable. You weren’t sure why he hated you as much as he did, but he ensured that you were aware of it any time he saw you. After one night of taking it too far, the full story finally comes out.

Read part two here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: just under 6k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (pls wrap it before you tap it), oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving) dirty talk, hair pulling, slight exhibitionism, sex in a public place (sort of), swearing, insulting, dickhead sam, drinking, bit of a love triangle more so at the end, sorry if i missed any!

smutty enemies to lovers, my weakness. Enjoy! sorry for any grammatical errors, please be kind :) also maybe a part two if anyone is interested?

The door to Danny’s apartment flung open, causing a collective whip of heads to turn and look towards it. Sam Kiszka stumbled in, clearly tipsy and looking a bit disheveled. You clenched your jaw at the sight of him, hoping by some power of the gods he wouldn’t show up tonight, although you knew your wish was not likely to come true. He was always around, looming and seeming to want to do whatever he could to ruin your mood.

Music was softly playing through the room, bodies were crowded in every corner, and your drink was quickly reaching the end. As if some higher power was willing you to have a terrible time tonight, Sam’s eyes immediately fell on you. A frown quickly twisted on his lips as he made his way towards you. If you weren’t so scared of looking weak, you would’ve cowered away from him, but you stood your ground. His hand rested on your arm as he leaned in to whisper something to you. “You know, when you’re here, they should really give me a warning before I show up,” he said. You casted your eyes to look at his face. He smelled like booze and cigarettes as if he’d just stumbled out of a dive bar.

“Why is that, Samuel?” You made sure to elongate your words with an annoying drawl, just to piss him off.

“So I can prepare myself for a terrible fucking night.” He let your arm go with a little push, causing you to lose your footing slightly. No more words were shared before he disappeared into the group of people behind you. His cologne lingered in the air for moment, making it harder to forget he had arrived. You brushed the interaction off, knowing that Sam was always going to be the way he was and you couldn’t let it bother you.

As you made your way to the kitchen to pour another drink, you ran into the host of the nights event. “Pipsqueak!” Danny called over to you. You had to laugh at the nickname. He started using it within days of meeting you, just a gentle joke poking fun at your height. Of course he’d thought you were short, most of the time he failed to realize that almost everyone was short compared to him. He wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you in a hug. “What’s your drink of choice?” He asked, motioning to the bottles of liquor displayed on the counter.

“Whatever you’re making me.” You smiled, taking a seat on one of the chairs. Danny was always a ray of sunshine, sober or not. He made everyone’s day better just by existing. He was the first you’d met out of any of the members of Greta Van Fleet. You had been sitting by your lonesome at a bar one night after a final blowout with your shitty ex-boyfriend. You’d found solace in the cheap tequila shots at the nearest dingy bar. He stopped for a drink after a long day at the studio. It was like fate meeting him that night. He was a very attractive guy, but the friendship you’d blossomed with him that day was something you’d been craving since you made your start in the city. Under different circumstances, you may have let him take you home that night.

You were never the best at making friends. Not because you were mean or any other outstanding baggage, but mostly because you were awkward. You’d spent your entire high school career dating the same toxic guy, and moved in with him almost immediately after graduation. There was never much time to make any friends other than him, simply because he wouldn’t allow it. So, the social cues you should have grown into simply passed you by. Danny was like a breath of fresh air, never minding your stuttering or uncertainties with the whole bonding process. He took to you immediately, imploring you to hang out with him and his friends.

That night he listened to your story with no judgement and even offered you somewhere to stay until you’d found your own place. You brushed it off, thanking him, but you already had one lined up. The breakup was long overdue and you were nothing short of a planner, always having an exit strategy. Instead, he came with you as the entourage as you collected your things from your ex’s house. He helped you move in, wanting to get to know you, and ended up wine drunk with you by the end of the night. It was a perfect housewarming activity. Within the next weeks, he’d introduced you to his best friends, who all had the same welcoming personalities. You were finally at peace with a group of people who made you feel like you belonged.

In the beginning, Sam was just as kind and charismatic as Danny was. You had even found yourself falling for him a little bit. But something changed somewhere along the line and you never really knew what it was. One day he’d went over to Danny’s apartment to share a cool bit of music he’d thought up and found you lounging in his kitchen, clearly freshly woken up. You’d stayed over after a night of bar hopping with your new-found best friend. Danny was still asleep as you made breakfast, which wasn’t a rare occurrence. It looked a little domestic to anyone else, but there was no chance of anything more ever happening between the two of you. Simply just two friends who loved spending time together.

Sam was stunned seeing you in that state, stuttering as he greeted you. He didn’t even stay to show Danny what he’d written. He was out of there faster than he’d arrived. The dynamic shifted that day. It started off slow with him being more passive with you, less engaged, but as time went on it had turned into hatred. It was if he couldn’t even stand the thought of being in the same room as you. There was never a reason why, or an explanation of any sort. Things were just different.

“Whatcha thinking about, pip?” Danny asked, mixing a drink for you. Your eyes looked up to meet his, immediately growing a smile on your lips.

“Nothing too interesting,” you replied. He stuck a straw into the solo cup, bringing it up to your lips. You took a sip, swallowing down whatever concoction he’d made for you. You let out a hum of pleasure, nodding your head in appreciation. “That’s so good!” You exclaimed. He laughed at your reaction, setting the cup in front of you. “You know, if the music thing doesn’t work you, you’d make a great bartender.”

“Maybe in twenty years we can open a bar together, like a family restaurant but instead of good food, really strong drinks that will knock you on your ass. Then we can force our kids to take it over when we retire.” He laughed.

“Exactly!” You giggled, grabbing your cup to take another drink. At that moment, someone had bumped into the back of your chair, causing you to spill the liquid all over the front of your dress. “Shit!” You yelled, standing quickly.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there.” The voice sounded from behind you. You gritted your teeth, knowing exactly who it belonged to.

“Fuck you, Sam.” You said, not even having to look at him.

“You wish!” He said, carrying on to whatever he’d been intending to do. Danny gave you a sympathetic look, scrambling for some paper towels. You cleaned yourself off as best you could, anger radiating from you.

“Fucking asshole.” You mumbled, tossing the wet paper into a trash bin.

“Sorry about him,” Danny said, but you stopped him before it went any further.

“Dont,” you stated. “You’re not responsible for him, you don’t have to apologize on his behalf. I’m quite aware of what he’s like by now.” You let out a humourless chuckle.

“I don’t know why he’s like that, though. He loved you when I brought you to meet everyone.” Danny said, clearly not understanding his distaste for you any more than you did. You shrugged.

“Guess it doesn’t really matter why, cause it doesn’t seem like it’s gonna change any time soon.” Danny reached out and placed a large hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He pulled you into his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He knew how much it bothered you.

Eventually you two had parted ways, him getting pulled away by another friend. You found yourself mingling with a small group of people you’d seen around a few times at previous gatherings. Your eyes wandered around the room. Danny had quite a spacious apartment, and somehow always managed to escape a noise complaint. Your gaze fell upon the one person you wanted to avoid all night. He was next to a girl who you’d never seen before, leaning into her and saying something that was causing a blush to rise to her cheeks.

A tinge of jealousy ran through you. You had to shake it off, completely shocked at the emotion. There was no world where you thought you’d find yourself envious of any of the girls Sam found himself wrapped around. You chalked it up to the copious amount of liquor in your system, maybe making your loneliness a bit more evident than it was when you were sober. In truth, you were. You’d never even had a date after your breakup the year prior. At first it was willing, not wanting to end up entangled with another asshole again. Recently, it was more of routine than anything else. You’d grown comfortable with your empty apartment, your own space how you liked it with nobody to disturb the peace. That didn’t mean you weren’t human, though. Everyone craves intimacy by times.

You made your way back over to the seat you’d been in earlier. You wished Danny would come back to mix you another one of the drinks he’d made you. You tried your best, but it was always too strong or way too sweet. You had to laugh at your own alcoholic incompetence. You didn’t start drinking until you were legal age to do so. Maybe it was because you were a bit of a goody-two shoes growing up, or perhaps that you really just didn’t like the taste of it. Either way, you were still trying to find the ropes of mixing your own beverages and always seemed to fail miserably.

You hummed along to the music playing through the speaker, minding your own business. You didn’t feel the need to be constantly conversing at events like this; sometimes, you’d rather sit back and take it all in. As you pulled out your phone to check the time, you felt a body present itself next to you. You looked up to see a guy you’d occasionally seen hanging around with the boys, but you couldn’t place his face to a name. You gave him a smile as he sat down beside you. “Hey, y/n, right?” He asked. You nodded, taking in his features. He was relatively attractive, but not someone you’d seek out intentionally.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You answered.

“I’ve heard lots of great things from Danny, I just thought I’d come over and keep you company. You looked a little lonesome over here by yourself.” He offered a smile, a quite cute one at that.

“I wouldn’t mind that at all.” You shifted to face him so you could get a better look at him. He was tall, but not as tall as Danny or Sam. You still had to look up to meet his eyes. “What’s your name?” You asked, suddenly embarrassed that he knew you but you didn’t know him.

“Oh, I’m Scott.” He said, suddenly reaching his hand out for you to shake it. You took it, letting the touch linger for a moment. “Sorry, I guess we’ve never really properly met each other.” He let out a nervous chuckle.

“We have lots of time, now.” You offered.

You lost yourself in conversation with him, finding out he had quite the sense of humour. You’d found yourself getting tipsier by the minute, losing your rigidness the more the time went on. He had said something particularly funny, causing you to lean into him while you laughed, resting a hand on his shoulder. He took the opportunity to snake an arm around you, and you didn’t mind it in the slightest. In the midst of him beginning to ask you about yourself, a hand presented itself on your shoulder, as well as one on his. You looked back to see Sam looming over you. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“Hello, Samuel.” You said, dryly. He ignored you and turned to the boy beside you.

“I see you’ve met y/n!” He boomed. Scott nodded, not sensing the tension in the air.

“Yeah, we were just getting to know each other. She’s great!” Scott replied. Sam gave a laugh, nodding as if to agree.

“She sure is, but be careful, man, she’s quite the catch. I’d hate for her to cause anything between you and Danny boy.” He informed him, causing you to shoot him a look of confusion.

“What do you mean, man?” He asked back.

“Well, they’re quite involved, if you get what I’m saying.” Sam chuckled. He recoiled at the words, looking between you and Sam. “Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Scott shook his head, clearing his throat.

“Well, uh, it was nice talking to you, y/n.” He stood, excusing himself. Your stomach dropped. When Scott was out of earshot, you turned on Sam.

“What the fuck was that?” You seethed. Sam scoffed.

“You’re flirting with Danny’s friend, in his own house. That’s pretty low, even for you.” He announced. You stood, too, grabbing onto his arm and dragging him into the hallway for a little more privacy.

“I don’t know what idea you have in your head, but it’s wrong.” You informed him. “Unless you really wanted to go above and beyond to make me miserable tonight.” You let go of him, turning to face him now.

“The idea that you’ve been fucking Danny and flirting with everyone else behind his back? I’m pretty sure that I’ve got that pretty clear.” He shot back, arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you delusional?” You asked, incredulously. “I’m not sure what world you’re living in, but Danny and I are most definitely not fucking.” A look of uncertainty flashed in Sam’s eyes. “And not that it’s any of your business, but we never have.” His posture slipped a bit, relaxing slightly.

“He seems to like you an awful lot, and you’re always over here, or he’s at your place. I have a pretty hard time believing that.” He said, still on the defensive. If he didn’t hate you so much, you could almost believe he was jealous.

“Because we’re friends, Sam!” You shouted, shoving your hands into his chest. He faltered, running into the wall behind him. “If you could get past your own ego and talk to me for ten seconds, you would know that! Maybe you would also know that he’s the only friend I’ve ever really had, so yeah, we’re pretty close!” You we’re fuming.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy because I don’t like you?” He snapped back now, catching the attention of a few stray people passing by. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who started flirting with me, and then I walk in one day to you making breakfast in Danny’s kitchen with just his shirt on!” You stepped back when he spoke, not expecting him to explode like that. As soon as he’d said the words, the months of passive-aggressiveness seemed to make so much more sense. “I thought that maybe you actually liked me, that it was going somewhere, and then I walk in on you in my best friends kitchen like that?” He was getting closer to you with every word he said. The tension was immeasurable. You were both furious.

“Maybe instead of running away, you could’ve just talked to me like a normal person! Then you went on your little fucking power trip, being an asshole to me whenever you got the chance. Do you get off to it, treating me like shit?” Your noses were practically touching by now.

“It kills me, actually.” He was speaking lowly, now, just for you to hear. “Because even if you’re a fucking slut, somehow I still feel the same way about you as I did back then.” He admitted. “But it’s always Danny this, Danny that, he’s the best guy in the whole world and Sam’s just a douchebag, right? I get to watch him love you and get chastised because you broke my fucking heart.” You could’ve strangled him on the spot.

“You’re an idiot, Sam.” You shook your head. “You are so fucking stupid.” You laughed. He didn’t know how to respond, watching you intensely as you formulated your next sentence. “I was falling for you too, Sam. You broke my heart, too.” You spat. “Everything is not always about you!” You saw something flash in his eyes. Remorse, maybe? You weren’t sure.

“Do you still feel that way?” His tone still patronizing, but laced with curiosity.

“No,” you hissed. “You may be attractive, but you’re still a dick. I liked you when you didn’t want to make my life a living hell.”

“So you think I’m hot?” He smirked.

“Fuck off, Sam.” You tried to push past him and rejoin the party. He grabbed your wrist as you passed him, pulling you back to face him.

“I asked you a question.”

“I’m not going to sit here and stroke your ego all night.” You pulled at your arm, trying to shake him off. He pulled you in closer, letting his free hand rest on your hip. Goosebumps prickled your skin as you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“I was kind of hoping you’d stroke something else.” As cringey as the pass was, you couldn’t help but feel your breath catch in your throat. His grip on you tightened slightly, but you didn’t want to give him any satisfaction.

“In your dreams, Kiszka.” You breathed, unsure of why he was affecting you so much. You hated him.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve dreamt about it a lot.” He was leaning down, lips resting on your ear now. The feeling of his breath on your skin ignited something in you, suddenly not caring about the months of shit he’d given you.

“Then why don’t you do something about it, already?” His grip on your waist tightened just before he snaked his hand around to your lower back, moving to the side and pushing you in front of him. He guided you into the nearest open door, which happened to be the bathroom, and closed it behind him. You had no time to process what he was doing before you were lifted onto the counter, Sam between your legs and his lips on yours.

You wasted no time getting your hands on him, pulling him closer to you. The bulge in his jeans was growing more noticeable by the second and his hands were clawing at the bottom of your dress. His fingers slipped underneath, teasing you through the lace of your panties. You let a moan slip out into his mouth, suddenly becoming hyper aware of where you were and who could hear you. “Sam,” you said against his lips. He didn’t stop but he switched to kissing down your neck, sucking marks into the soft skin. “S-Sammy,” you whined. He hummed against you, pulling your underwear to the side and running his hands through the pool of wetness. “We can’t do this here!” You whispered, but your body was betraying you. You were grinding yourself against his hand, begging for friction.

“You want me to stop?” He mumbled, mouth now down to your collarbone. His unoccupied hand freed one of your tits from the top of your dress, wasting no time pulling it into his mouth. You let out a hiss of pleasure, trying to find the willpower to push him off of you. He let his fingers slip inside of you, making it even harder for you to tell him to stop. “That’s what I thought, princess.”

“Can you at least lock the door?” You pleaded, finally making him pull his head away, but his fingers remained steady. He looked at you, lust clouding his vision. He gave a smirk before he spoke.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he drawled, pulling your chin up so you would look him in the eyes. “I’m going to get you off, and if you can stay completely silent, I’ll lock the door before I fuck you.”

“Sam-“

“Ah,” he cut you off, letting his thumb trail over your bottom lip. “Or, I can just leave you here like this, dripping and aching for someone to take care of you.” Your eyes widened in shock, not willing to call his bluff. ‘Still an asshole even in the bedroom.’ You made a mental note. But, it was fucking hot. “Up to you,”

“I can be quiet.” You promised. He let his thumb that was tracing your lip push past them. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing easier access, then closing it around it. You suctioned your mouth for a moment, and then let him pull it away. It left your lips with a gentle pop. He let out a long exhale.

“I know you can, baby. Just be good for me for a little while, and I’ll lock the door for you.” You nodded, eager for him to keep touching you. His fingers moving inside you weren’t enough, you needed more. He pulled his hand from you, bent down slightly and hooked his arms under your thighs. He pulled your ass forward, bunching the bottom of your dress in his hands and got down on his knees. Your breath caught in your throat just watching him between your thighs. Not once did you think you’d end up here.

He ran his tongue through your folds, getting a taste of what he’d been doing to you for the last few minutes. His attention landed on your clit, which had been begging for him all night. Just with a swirl of his tongue, you were trying not to scream his name. He could tell just how much he was affecting you, and it was driving him crazy. He suctioned his lips around the bundle of nerves, causing you to reach your hand to his hair. It only drove him to work harder, now adding his fingers back to you. You were biting your lips and trying to steady your breathing, praying a noise wouldn’t slip from your mouth. He was secretly hoping you would, just to get the satisfaction. He curled his fingers, hitting a spot inside you that caused you to pull on the strands of hair you had in your grasp. He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath. “Fuck you taste good, baby.”

Your feeling of desperation was immeasurable. You wanted so badly to say his name, make some noise to show him how good he was making you feel, but the idea of someone hearing you made hold back. Sam was pumping his fingers at an agonizing pace, using his tongue to drive you over the edge. He wanted someone to hear you, to know that you were making noise just for him. Within minutes, you were at your end, the knot in your stomach growing by the second. You bit down on your tongue in a last ditch to silence yourself, but when his tongue ghosted over your clit one last time and you lost yourself to pleasure, his name tumbled from your lips along with a gasp. You gripped his hair hard enough that he had to fight to keep his mouth on you. When you came down from the high, your limbs felt like putty. “I-I’m s-sorry,” you stuttered as he came back up to his feet. Your orgasm was glistening on his chin as he pulled you in for a kiss.

“Don’t apologize to me, I could listen to you say my name like that all day.” He breathed. His hand reached to the doorknob, clicking the lock. “I don’t want anyone interrupting this.” He said, pulling at the buckle of his belt. You hit his hands out of the way, wanting to do it yourself. You slid off the counter, praying you could stay steady on your feet just for a moment. You undid the button of his jeans and pulled his zipper down. With one swift moment you pulled his cock free and dropped to your knees.

A gasp of surprise came from him as you took him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. He balled your hair in his fist, letting his head fall back with a groan. You relaxed your jaw and took him as far as you could into your mouth, bobbing up and down. “Fuck, y/n.” He muttered, looking down at you. “You look so pretty like this.” Your eyes fluttered up to meet his. The look on his face was enough to send you over the edge, but you kept going, wanting to make him feel the same way he’d made you feel. You bobbed your head down once more and he bucked his hips forward, causing a gag to overtake you. He pulled you off of him by your hair in an instant, feeling slightly bad for his earlier action. “I need you to stop before I cum. I still need to fuck you, remember?” His tone was breathy, trying to sound arrogant but failing slightly.

Just as you sprung back to your feet, he pulled you in for another kiss, filled with neediness. He pulled away, spinning you around and pushing you down so your chest was flush with the counter. He hiked your dress up again, this time far enough up that your ass was exposed. You felt his hands brush over it softly, giving a gentle squeeze while he admired the view. It was the most tame he’d acted with you all night. As if he’d realized it too, you felt a sharp smack, eliciting a gasp from you. He pulled your underwear to the side again, lining himself up with your cunt and showing no mercy thrusting into you. A yelp escaped from your lips, but you silenced yourself quickly. He grabbed your hair in his fist again, pulling your head back and leaning down so his lips were on your ear.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” he hissed, teeth grazing over your earlobe. “I’m going to keep going, now. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sammy.” You rushed out.

“That’s my good girl.” He said, pulling away from you. “I love those noises baby, but I want to keep them all to myself.” Fuck, he was hot. You didn’t have any time to ponder over the words, because he’d resumed his pace, fucking into you desperately. He had one hand on your hip and the other still knotted in your hair. You hoped the music in the main room was covering the noises of his skin slapping on yours, but you wanted him so badly you didn’t care. “Fuck you feel good.” He growled, loosening his grip on your hair so he could move his other hand to your waist.

“Harder, please, Sammy.” You pleaded.

“You asked for it,” he groaned, more to himself than you. He dug his fingers into your hips and pulled you back onto him as he thrusted into you. You couldn’t help but let a choked moan out, but he didn’t care enough to chastise you for it. He kept up his pace, hitting your cervix with every re-entry.

“I’m gonna…” you trailed off, voice wobbly from the pleasure and the pace he was fucking you at.

“You wanna cum, princess?” He asked. All you could do was hum a noise of affirmation. “Okay, baby,” he mumbled. “Cum for me.” He demanded, but you could tell that underneath the authority he was begging for you to do so. With a few more thrusts, you found yourself coming undone, your legs giving out from underneath you.

“Fuck, Sam!” You gasped. In an instant, his hand flung around you to cover your mouth, stifling any noises or profanities you couldn’t hold back. He wasn’t far behind you, twitching inside you and hips faltering. He pulled you onto him one more time, holding you in place. He lost his composure, leaning down on top of you as he reached his own orgasm. He managed to mutter your name while he turned your head to the side to connect your mouths again.

Heavy breathing filled the otherwise silent room. You were both covered in sweat, in no shape to go out and face the crowd of people outside. He pulled out of you, moving his hand under you to avoid any mess spilling out. You laid on the counter for a moment, not feeling strong enough to hold yourself up. He pulled you panties back in place, leaning down and leaving a small kiss on your asscheek, then sucking a mark into it. You let a giggle out as he pulled your dress back down. “That’s for me to see, later.” He assured you. He pulled his pants back up and buckled his belt.

“I have to get cleaned up.” You informed him, finally pushing yourself up off the counter. You made a move to push past him, but he stopped you.

“Fix your hair and your makeup and get back out there.” He said, no look of joking in his features.

“But Sam-“

“You heard me.” He said, placing another kiss to your lips. You felt yourself throb at his order. “You’re gonna go out there and hope you don’t make a mess anywhere, and in twenty minutes, you’re going to meet me outside and we’re going to leave.” He informed you. You couldn’t even protest, his tone turning you on again as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“To my place, and then you’re going to let me hear all of those pretty noises I missed out on.” He said, pulling you in for one more kiss. “And then maybe tomorrow I can take you on a real date, make up for… well, everything.” His voice was softer now, taking your cheek in his hand and running a delicate thumb over it.

“I’d like that.” You assured him. A small smile broke out on his face. Your heart fluttered. It had been a long time since he’d smiled at you.

“Me, too.” It was crazy how different he was acting in comparison to just a few moments before. “You should cover up those hickeys, too. If we haven’t been caught yet, we will be if you walk out with those on display.” He chuckled. You turned to look in the mirror, inspecting the damage. He was right, he had left a few marks that were darkening already. You wiped away the smudged mascara and lipstick, thankful you hadn’t worn too much makeup.

You straightened your hair out and ran a hand through it, brushing out any knots that had formed. Sam admired you, looking at your face in the mirror. He felt like shit that he’d been so mad at you for no real reason, and that he was so hurt he never bothered to ask you for the full story. But, the looming knowledge that he held made him feel even worse. Danny was most certainly in love with you, and he’d just fucked you in his bathroom. “I think this is as good as it’s gonna get.” You sighed.

“Beautiful,” Sam said, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry for being a dick.” He mumbled, lips pressed into your hair.

“You’ll make up for it.” You smiled into his chest. He nodded, huffing out a sigh. Guilt had begun to eat him alive. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Does Danny know that you don’t have feelings for him?” You looked up to him, wondering why he’d bring this up right now.

“I mean, I never said it explicitly, but I’ve also never made any advances either. I don’t see why he would think I do. He’s never even brought anything up in regards to it, either.” You said. Sam nodded, taking a sharp intake of breath. “Why?”

“I think that maybe you should talk to him.”

“Why?” You asked again. He stayed silent, fingers dancing over your cheekbones. “Sam, why should I talk to him?” You pressed.

“If we’re gonna do whatever this is, he should be the first to know.” He eased into it. Your stomach dropped, knowing exactly what he was hinting at.

“You knew he had feelings for me?” You whispered. “And you had sex with me in his bathroom?”

“I know,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Probably not the smartest move on my part.”

“You think?”

“Fuck, y/n, I’m not trying to be the bad guy!” He exclaimed. “I’ve been in love with you for just as long! Maybe I could’ve went about it differently, but we don’t have to tell him this part exactly!” Your stomach churned with anxiety. “If you knew that before, would you still have done it?”

“Of course not!” Sam recoiled as if you’d shot him. Your eyes widened. “No, not like that, Sam!” He relaxed a bit. “I mean, yes I still would’ve gotten with you, but not here! I like you, Sammy, and I have from the beginning, but I don’t want to hurt him, ever. He’s my best friend!”

“He’s mine, too!” He snapped back. You took a deep breath.

“Listen, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” You said, taking his hand into yours and intertwining your fingers. “I want to be with you, I really do. I’ve always liked you, although you were quite the asshole for a while, I still do. I wouldn’t have had sex with you if I didn’t.” You reiterated your earlier point to soothe his worry. He leaned into you, nodding at your words.

“I want to be with you, too. We’ll make it work, and we’ll do everything we can to make sure he’s alright, too.” He said softly. “But the bathroom incident stays a secret for the rest of our lives.” You let out a giggle.

“Alright, then.” You stood on your tip-toes to place a kiss on his lips. “I’d still like you to take me home with you, tonight, if you’d have me.” You whispered. “We don’t have to do anything, I think I’d just like to be there with you.”

“Of course, princess. I couldn’t think of anything I’d want more.”

Part two, perhaps?

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