#that between it being in such a weird hard to reach place i just never really fully noticed how sensitive and tender that spot is to the

[bongjuiceconcentrate]

i am starting to think i have a shoulder injury ngl :(

[gladiatorcunt]

- A ROTTEN TREE BEARS ROTTEN FRUIT | I.

god loves you, but not enough to save you

cw: kinktober prompt (whipping/flogging), blasphemy, inaccurate religious practices, lyrical sadomasochism (more so sadism on his part), erotic religious imagery and references, this dynamic is so weird, implied (as in in my mind) bi reader and charlie, plus sized reader, reader’s chest referred to as ‘breasts’ & ‘tits’ and their crotch referred to as a ‘hole’ but they do have a seperate one other than their ass, pregnancy fantasy, vomit mention, don’t know shit about the show fuck you ryan, blood kink, interchangeable ‘charlie’ & ‘mayhew’ based on pov

do not translate, repost, or feed this work to ai |

kinktober 2024

“Shh, let me clean you up, Father.” You smile, so softly, he could snap your neck if he squeezed hard enough.

You run your nails over his back, trimmed to an appropriate length. Father Mayhew sighs the way Adam might’ve when Eve’s walls clenched around him, God never being more important than this bliss. You’re so devoted, so devout in your worship but he’s beginning to think that you cry out to a different God than he does. If you even believe in an invisible one anymore when you have a savior in the flesh.

“Thank you, dear. That’d be great.” The pulls are pulled from his lips like rotund wooden beads, as if he has no choice but to endure the stretch as they exit his body one by one.

You shuffle off the bed and kneel behind him, stroking your fingertips down his back like he’s a marble statue you just can’t help but reach out and touch. The opposite of Delilah cutting Samson’s hair, you only want to imbue him with your pure love from the inside out. Spooning milk and honey over the tender welts.

His eyelids crinkle as you kiss the nape of his neck, blotting your lips with rouge. There is no inch of his back left without, and when you arrive at the bigger gashes you lavish the cut with your tongue. Drinking his life away and cleaning him up like a good little whore, servicing the man becomes the only thing of importance to you. You dip the tip of your tongue in the recess of the deeper wounds, and caress his tensing abs from behind when he grits his teeth and traps a curse behind them. You only kitten lick him, but often he wishes you would get real dirty with it, caressing your tongue over his muscles in broad and messy swipes.

His scars from previous lashings glint in the low light of the candles surrounding you. You give them their just desserts of course, grateful pecks of attention and acknowledgement. Soothing his pain, that is the only excuse you have to encroach on the verge of breaking your vows. Father Mayhew gives you a purpose and stops your bleating with a heavy hand if you forget your place. Stern hand to raw and stinging flesh.

Sometimes there is no pillow when you kneel behind him.

The next step is that you turn around and face the wall after picking up the cattail whip off the bed and returning it to its rightful owner. You’ve already discarded your habit, no tunic, coif, or veil left on your person. They’re folded neatly beside you, only your rosary nestled in the embrace of your heaving breasts. Your peaks harden in the stuffy humid air, all the oxygen in the world confined to this small room.

He saddles up behind you, his sweaty chest so close to the flesh and contours of your back. Father Charlie breathes you in, taking whiffs of your debauched scent in between silent prayers. He never allows himself to be as forward as you are, his thread of control over his desire has not snapped yet. There are boundaries he can push, but lines he can never cross.

“Good lamb, God recognizes your penance and forgives your soul.” He whispers, dragging the strips of leather down your back until goosebumps rise to the surface.

When you least expect it, he strikes. You muffle a shout into the wall and Father Charlie’s cock jumps under his towel. Briefly he imagines slamming into your tempting body dry, with no preparation, making you sure you feel as much pain as possible. The way you’d wince with every step around the church, the begging in your puppy dog eyes when you’d take communion. How he could hold it above your head like a bone in the shape of a fractured cross, dangling just out of reach of your gorgeous mouth.

The devil gives him dreams of fucking your throat until you’re vomiting and hoarse.

Every droplet of bed peeking out from the cracks of your skin to say hello nourishes him. He shushes you when you’re unable to hold back your sounds, cooing when he notices you humping the air after the fifteenth hit. You just can’t help yourself, nerdy by nature and nurture.

You start soaking the pillow beneath you, imagining what he must look like. A man and his broad hulking body curling around you as he hurts you. Your hole suddenly feels so empty, you have a night of riding your pillow ahead of you, you just want to be good for him in all the ways you’re supposed to be.

As you let a demon of sex control your body, he spies a flash of a white lacy thong nestled between your plump ass cheeks. He knows that if you had also worn a towel, he would’ve hooked his fingers under the fabric and pulled it off. You don’t get to hide any part of yourself from your Father. And he knows he will have to give himself another lashing for those thoughts alone. Even the secret wedding he plans as he strokes his angry red cock, always edging himself, he’s afraid of what would happen if he lets go. How loud the iron gates would be when they creak open. Like the way he wants to spread your ass open and toy with the hidden puckered hole.

His words are in his actions, reopening your old wounds and bringing the warm leather across your back one last time, he hopes your blood soaks through the material. Staining it, the way you have already stained his heart. Father Charlie grins despite himself when you slump against the wall, sliding his bible-roughened hands over your love handles and sticks his pecs to your shoulders.

“You did lovely, today. The Lord thanks you, and I’m so proud of you, you know that?” His thick fingers brush along the bottoms of your tits, never going higher.

He wants to slap them, wrap the beads of your rosary around them until the flesh bulges, painting your nipples in a mix of both of your blood. Marking your souls irreversibly. Marriage of the spirit, a ritualistic wedding in the eyes of the beholder. You shiver like a mouse in front of a snake, and beads of precum fall from his cockhead.

Did Saint Teresa have these feelings when she had the vision of an angel piercing her heart with their golden spear? Did Saint Sebastian when he was pierced by those arrows under the order of the Emperor? Did David when he wrenched Goliath’s head back by his hair and bested him into humiliation? Did it compare to the covenant he formed with Jonathan?

He kisses your glittering scars in thanks and washes your blood away with his lips and tongue too. But unlike any other day in which you’ve done this, he stands up with a grunt and pulls you up with him. Father Mayhew falls backwards onto his bed and so you follow dutifully, and because the hold he has on your wrist is strong to the point of bruising. You lay your head over his heart and pant into his skin as he teases your plush thigh, tracing crosses into the chubby expanse of skin.

“No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.” He cajoles, walking on that burning tightrope with you.

He wonders if your cunt would be just as chubby, if you’ve ever thought about humping the organ bench, riper than the forbidden fruit, and he mentally catalogs an extra long session of repentance. To be fresh and clean again. Father Charlie will go through his sermons with his lighthearted tone and charming personality, desperate to hide that he’s thinking of plunging his tongue in your asshole. Sipping and slurping up your musk like it’s the only holy water he needs to live. Or entice you into eating his ass, you would love being able to serve him properly, no doubt.

To nourish you with his fragments, his vertebrae and viscera. The body and the blood. The teeth and the testicles.

He’ll sit in quiet contemplation in front of the pulpit, pouring wine over your body in his mind. Following the red trail with his tongue as it trickles down the valley of your chest and dips in and out the folds of your belly. He’ll leisurely open his mouth on a silent moan at the top of your mound, the hairs like yellowing blades of glades against his philtrum, in a perfect paradise there’d be blood there too. His own personal, pervertedly literal, red sea.

You’d look so beautiful, swollen and fat with a child growing in your womb. A shame that can never happen, but a blessing that no heretic of a man could snatch you up and take you away from him. Your flock is here, and the heavy crook of his staff is all you need to guide you back home when you go astray. Trapped in his thighs, molded by his hands, punctured into line with his cock.

[diushek]

One day, Shen Qingqiu comes from the city with a little baby in his arms. He says: "His mother died during childbirth and I am taking care of him." He names the child Shen Yuan when he is old enough to give him a name, and the child grows up in Qing Jing.

Everyone, absolutely everyone, believes that Shen Qingqiu is the biological father of that child. Only have to LOOK at them both and see the resemblance: the same eyes, the same hair, the same facial structure, the same lips, even the same angry pout. Rumors - Shen Qingqiu had a child with a prostitute who died and now he is taking care of him!! - are open secrets.

Shen Qingqiu, as usual, ignores them. He cares for his little one, raising him with the closest thing other Peak Lords can call love. Impeccable robes, the best meals, the best early education. Shen Yuan grows up as a polite, gentle, kind-hearted, sweet-faced child. He frees insects before killing them, isn't afraid to dirty his robes if he must go after someone, and has an avid interest in beasts and monsters beyond comprehension. The Peak Lords jokingly think: this child has taken his father's face and surely the good heart of his mother, may she rest in peace.

When he comes of age, he doesn't even have to dig a hole to be chosen for Qing Jing Peak - everyone knows that Shen Qingqiu has already made a place for him there. However, Shen Yuan insists on doing it on his own! He wants to earn his place. The Peak Lords respect him for it, and there are various interests, but he still ends up in Qing Jing Peak.

And Shen Yuan becomes Shen Qingqiu's clear first disciple. He is a skilled scholar, excellent martial artist who is not afraid to tear someone rude with foul words, but with an almost natural disposition to be kind, sweet and gentle with those who deserve and require it.

It is then that Luo Binghe arrives at Qing Jing Peak.

The Peak Lords hear of the rumors and they spread them like pollen in spring: apparently there has been a HUGE discussion between Shen Qingqiu and his spoiled son! Something involving a child with water burns, a beating, and a woodshed. No one understands what happened, but a day later, Shen Yuan completely disappeared from the Cang Qiong Sect.

And he has taken a young disciple with him.

Shen Qingqiu begins to act as if he never had a son - as if his whole life has been all about him, hostile and unpleasant. His mood is worse than ever and his cruelty is undeniable. No one understands what has happened between father and son, but these are rumors that even if whispered, bring the very bad faces of Shen Qingqiu. And no one wants to be behind Shen Qingqiu's wrath when it is unleashed.

(Shen Yuan had transmigrated. Into a baby! Into Shen Qingqiu's son! Yes, indeed his memories had been gradually unlocked, thank god. It would have been so weird to be a baby with the mindset of an adult... And he had believed, for a long time, that perhaps Shen Qingqiu could change. That loving him and caring for him would make him better when Luo Binghe reached Cang Qiong.

Unfortunately, that was not the case.

So, Shen Qingqiu can hate him for this reason if he wants! But Shen Yuan has to leave there and take Luo Binghe with him. He will teach him cultivation and do everything to make him become a powerful cultivator before his demonic seal is unleashed, he will do everything possible to prevent him from the Endless Abyss, and will prevent Shen Qingqiu from being turned into a human stick.

Probably, a single night of punishment and humiliation wasn’t enough for Luo Binghe to want revenge so hard. Actually?? He just would save the lives of all his martial uncles and his father in the process to kindly educate Luo Binghe and make him as powerful yet happy as possible. They should thank him!! He's sacrificing himself, his comforts, and his reputation to save everyone's asses!!!)

...

(Although Shang Qinghua had wanted to give Shen Qingqiu a son - a magical pollen pregnancy between Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu, which Shen Qingqiu would NEVER tell Yue Qingyuan was his child until the very last moment - for the drama and secondary revenge and angst 7/9, that had been a damn draft!!! He didn't even get to develop the background of Yue Qingyuan and Shen Jiu!!! And now that son ran away with his Protagonist!? System, what's going on!? Why do HE make sure the Endless Abyss arc be completed!? He doesn't even fucking know where the protagonist is!!! System have mercy on AND HELP!!!)

[mrsbarnesblog]

Hi girlie! Can you write something about baby daddy Rafe? Set in a FWB universe and reader ends up pregnant because he loves c*ming inside her? Love your works they keep me up at night in the best way 🤭🤍

masterlist

requests are open

word count: 0.9k

warnings: smut at the beginning, unprotected sex, fwb (kinda?)

a/n: hey, love❤️ i wasn't sure whether you wanted them to end up together or not, so i made something in between. i got inspired and wrote another part for this one which i may post later, but i'm open to changing/adding something if y'all have any ideas.

“Rafe… we shouldn’t do this— ah, fuck, please!” You cried out, your back arching from the bed, seeking more attention from his lips to your sensitive nipples. 

“I can’t stop. It’s gonna be okay, just one time, baby.” He grumbled, sucking in your skin. Rafe was pounding into your poor body without any mercy; he was too excited to be bare inside of you for the first time. 

When you came to his place, you two quickly found out that you ran out of condoms that were usually stacked on his bedside table, but you were too far gone to stop it. You were naked, your pussy was leaking with arousal, his dick was so painfully hard and it was hard to think straight. You didn’t want to stop and Rafe managed to convince you to let him fuck you raw. 

You knew how fucking stupid you were and that he might easily get you pregnant, but at that exact moment, the only thing on your mind was the feeling of his bare cock. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby. I wanna cum inside of your pretty pussy. Shit—you're squeezing me so hard, you like this idea, hm?” He kept slapping his hips against yours harder and harder, causing you to moan in despair and grip his shoulders. You tried to say no, but, in all honesty, you didn’t want to. The stretch was so delicious, and the feeling of his cock filling you completely made you feel dizzy. And having him cum inside? You could have an orgasm just thinking about it. 

No more than thirty seconds later, when you finally reached your height, his cock twitched inside and Rafe let out the sexiest moan you’ve ever heard. You felt liquid warmth covering your inside and moaned, squeezing and milking everything he could have you. 

You were playing with fire and it was just a matter of time before everything would go wrong. No matter how stupid and reckless it was, you didn’t stop. Rafe was now obsessed with the feeling of being inside of you without a barrier; he could not help himself when he had you spread out in front of him, ready to be filled. 

It was the best feeling that both of you experienced, but for some reason, you didn’t even try to find another form of contraception. You should have known better. You should have insisted on protection, but there was something intoxicating about the way he took you—the way he groaned your name as he filled you up. It was reckless, dangerous, and oh-so-addictive.

So it was not that big of a surprise when, just two months later, you saw two lines on the test. 

You weren’t dating, even if it has always felt like much more than just sex, so you never expected Rafe to be happy about the possibility of having a baby. You thought he would end everything immediately and simply run away. Yet he was the complete opposite. 

During your pregnancy, Rafe never left your side and made sure to attend every medical appointment, buy every single vitamin and satisfy all of your cravings.

You wanted to eat some weird shit from the store at 2am? He brought it to you in less than twenty minutes. Your body was aching and you didn’t want to do anything? He organised a spa day for you. You had terrible mood swings and cried every ten minutes? He was patient and he did everything he could to make you feel better. 

You quickly fell into that kind of domestic routine. It was comfortable, and it felt right to have him beside you all the time. While your baby was growing inside of you, you both realised more with every passing day that the feelings that you two had were serious. Because you were on each other’s mind’s 24/7, you stayed in yours or his place all the time, and you couldn’t just keep your hands away. 

When Rafe first felt your baby kick, he was over the moon and he had the biggest smile on his face. He repeatedly kissed your belly before falling asleep with his head on your thighs and his hand on your bump. 

As soon as your little girl arrived in the world, Rafe completely fell into daddy mode. He was fussing over her, insisting on spending as much time with her as possible. He never complained when he had to change her diapers or wake up in the middle of the night because of her cries.

He is such a girl dad, and the moment she looked at him with her blue eyes, he was wrapped around her tiny finger. 

Rafe loves being a dad; he loves taking care of his girls, even if you are still not officially his. He makes sure to do everything to make you feel comfortable and give you enough rest. 

He may not be perfect in it, but he’s trying his best and he hasn’t regretted ever getting into this with you. 

[arieslost]

personally since I want to take a nice bite outta oscar (and you do too)

what about an oscar x gf!reader who just constantly bites him, not hard enough to leave a mark (thats only in bed) but just a little chomp

like he has an arm around her shoulder while talking to Lando and she just turns her head and *chomp*

lord knows i wanna give that man a nice little monch. just a little 🤏🏻 little bit

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

chomp | op81

something about oscar unlocked the habit within you. he’s just so… yummy. all the time. so one day you acted on the urge to bite him. you did it gently, just barely sinking your teeth into the skin covering the taunt muscle of his bicep when you were cuddled up together in bed. he liked it; encouraged it even, so you never really looked back.

instead of “pinch me,” he soon adopted the phrase “bite me” in its place. it was just an affectionate thing that you did when your feelings for him became so overwhelming words failed you. it happens more often than not— just looking at him and knowing he’s yours is enough to render you speechless.

his instant enjoyment of your gentle bites had you dismissing the behavior as normal quickly, so it now comes as a surprise to you when other people have a visceral reaction to it.

you never pay much mind to what people say on social media, particularly twitter, but almost every day you’re greeted with the sight of you being caught biting oscar and hundreds of people asking what your problem is. it mostly stemmed from the one time that oscar asked (more like begged) you to leave a mark in the throes of a passion-charged moment that happened the night before qualifying and thus it was clear as day to everyone in the paddock the next morning.

you were usually careful to bite parts of him that were almost always concealed. his thighs, his hips, his shoulders, the junction between his shoulder and neck. but he’d been adamant that you bite his neck and leave a mark, and who were you to tell him no? so the whole world ended up becoming privy to your little habit. but oscar never gave anyone the time of day when asked about it, so it never crossed your mind to stop.

now, lando had been the very first to tease him about that infamous mark on his neck, but he’d never been there to see it happen. until today.

oscar had insisted that you join him while he and lando were waiting to be called in for a race debrief, with the promise that he’d take you out for dinner afterwards. you’re always happy to spend extra time with your boyfriend, of course, so you were more than happy to agree.

except lando has a special talent for boring you out of your mind with extremely technical talk. and he loves to talk. you need something to do in order to not implode from boredom, and oscar’s arm is right there, wrapped around your shoulders, so you turn your head and lightly bite the thin skin of his wrist.

the sudden silence is deafening as lando stops talking in the middle of his sentence.

“i thought that was just a weird rumor. you actually bite him?” lando asks.

“um, yeah,” you reply slowly. “so?”

“got a problem with my girlfriend, mate?” you can feel the muscles of your boyfriend’s arm flexing around you as he tenses up a little.

“nope. no. not at all,” his teammate is quick to respond, hand reaching back to scratch his neck. “carry on. i’ll just act like i’m not here.”

so you do, biting him a little harder as a silent chill out. he just kisses your temple, stifling his laughter.

when it’s finally time for their meeting, you’ve traveled from oscar’s wrist all the way up to the inside of his elbow, grazing your teeth along his skin and inhaling his addictive scent. you’d happily do this for hours, and you pout when he separates himself from you.

as an apology, he leaves you with a parting whisper of, “you’re gonna bite me harder than that tonight, right?” that has your whole body heating up.

word count: 638

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: hope u enjoyed this <3 definitely not self indulgent for myself and venus at all!!!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo @ahgase99 @ferrarisfailedstrats @levidazai @brune77e

[moonstruckme]

I remember seeing you say a little while ago you would take holiday requests so if this sparks some inspo for you…. How about best friend!Steve being reader’s secret Santa and giving a gift that is so sweet and personal and kind of a confession of his feelings (like Jim’s gift for Pam in the office)

Thank you for requesting!

best friend!Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 984 words

Steve’s afraid his wrapping is a dead giveaway. 

He tried his best, but gift wrapping is a new skill for him. There’s an overabundance of tape and plastic bows covering up a hasty patch job. Nancy laughed when he gave it to her to put under the tree for the secret Santa exchange. She called him sweet for trying with a weird look in her eyes and a little smile. 

You and Steve are sitting together as always. Sometimes he wonders if it’s more habit at this point than anything else. You walk into a room and you just go to him, unthinking, like a magnet. Steve does the same thing, but, well. He knows why he does it. 

So far, Eddie’s gotten a large pack of socks without holes in them, Robin’s gotten a Bangles album, and Steve has gotten a t-shirt with the words Big Dick printed on it that he’s sure Eddie—it had to have been Eddie—thinks he won’t wear, and so he will wear solely to Corroded Coffin shows, out of spite. When it’s your turn, you find Steve’s gift with your name under the tree and your eyes move between your friends suspiciously. He’s not sure whether to be relieved that you don’t immediately guess it’s from him. 

It’s painful to watch how carefully you unwrap it. You peel back layer after layer of tape, unfolding without ripping, the paper crinkling gently. 

“Come on!” Eddie jokes. “That’s not the spirit of Christmas. You’re supposed to tear it up.” 

“No!” you laugh. “Someone put a lot of effort into this. Look at all the bows!”

“Look at all the tape,” Robin mutters. She’s got Steve dialed, for sure. 

The box underneath the wrapping is plain cardboard, found in Steve’s basement. Your lips part as you open it. 

“Oh, my god.” You lift a large ceramic mug from the box. “This is—it’s my mug. Steve?” 

Steve fights a smile as you look at him, eyes wide and happy. “Can we say?” 

Robin makes a derisive noise. “Like she doesn’t already know.” 

“Steve,” you say again, stretched out and sweet like taffy. Your face softens as you reach around him for a hug. “This is so cool. Where’d you get this?” 

“Well, they didn’t only make one,” he jokes. He’s working hard to contain the full scope of his smile. God knows Eddie would never let him hear the end of it if he saw. “I found a lookalike.” 

Behind you, Robin makes a face, widening her eyes at her girlfriend dramatically. Steve is sure Nancy’s heard all about how Robin was dragged from thrift store to thrift store, town to town, one long Saturday until they found the right mug. He’s glad when she doesn’t launch into her tale of complaint again now. 

“Harrington got you your own mug?” Eddie asks, perplexed. “Did he, like, steal it from you and give it back?”

“No,” you laugh. “No, it’s…” You turn, your eyes meeting Steve’s. 

The mug is from a coffee shop you and Steve used to go to. You went together for years, starting back in school when you wanted a place to study and Steve was willing to pay three bucks for a cup of coffee to talk at you while you worked. It had become your regular spot. You had a couch you always sat on, and the baristas recognized you, so eventually there was a mug your drink order always came in, too. It was wide and green, curved with a thick lip. Plain enough, Steve thought, but you loved it. Maybe it was more that you loved having a regular drink order at a place that felt like yours, but for some reason the mug was special to you. The coffee shop closed down last summer. Steve couldn’t get you your couch (he thought about it, but it wasn’t sure where you’d put it and it seemed like a bit much), so he got your mug. 

“It’s from this place we used to go,” you say to Eddie. Your thumb brushes across the smooth ceramic, still looking at Steve. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, sure.” He shrugs, leaning back against Nancy’s couch and trying not to look too obviously pleased with himself. “It wasn’t a big deal.” 

Robin makes a half-suppressed guffawing sound. Steve sends her a look to tell her to zip it. 

⋆⁺₊𖠰₊⁺⋆

You lean into Steve’s side, and Nancy watches his face turn into something so tender she almost wants to grab her friend’s heart and keep it safe for him. But she thinks it’s safe with you. 

Anyway, there’s no saving Steve now. He’s been looking at you that way for years, practically since he’s known you. It’s only that now you might be starting to see it. 

You’re speaking to him quietly, holding your new mug between your hands like it’s the most precious thing you own. Your legs are nearly in Steve’s lap. He says something back to you, and you smile, bright and beatific. Your eyes stay glued to him like he's the center of your world. 

“Still can’t believe it took a whole Saturday to find a green mug,” Robin mutters, too low for anyone else to hear. She’s stolen Steve’s Big Dick shirt and put it on over her long sleeve, the large fit comical (and adorable, if you ask Nancy) as she tucks one of her knees up under it. 

“I don’t know,” Nancy says, leaning sideways so their shoulders rest together. “I think it’s sweet. It obviously means something to her. Don’t you think that’s sort of worth it?” 

Robin makes a soft sound in the back of her throat, but she softens when Nancy turns her eyes up to hers. “I guess so,” she sighs. 

On the other side of the couch, you erupt in laughter at something Steve’s said. He lights brighter than the Christmas tree.

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. 1.5 | Spencer Reid x Reader

Okay so, WOW. I am completely blown away by the response to my first fic on here, 120 followers in 6 days are you guys okay? Because I am definitely not :,). While accidents pt. II isnt quite finished just yet (thank you so much for being so patient with me<3 uni is kicking my ass already rip), I thought I'd give you all a small sneak peek, aka the first 800-ish words of the second part. I hope you enjoy and thank you all so so much for the generous feedback so far!! <333 I'll go rewatch my genetics lecture now yippie :,,,,)

here you can read the entire first part, please head the warnings! Same ones apply here. also, if you wanna get tagged in pt. II, let me know in the comments!

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

oh spencer, you weren't quite as subtle as you thought. rip my boy. also whooops another cliffhanger? haha my fingers must've slipped my bad

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[httpsghostie]

Three's a Crowd

bro I have no words for what I've just written it's pure filth I can't stop wont stop I need them internally

I'm not sorry for this

Summary: a situationship between your lieutenant and your colonel that leads to obscene measures.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: smut, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x female!reader x König, unprotected piv and dp sex, kinda cuckold (?, light spanking, dacryphilia, praising/humiliating, lots of pet names, breeding kink, choking, no use of y/n

masterlist

NSFW under the cut

You didn't know exactly how, but you ended up in a situationship between the colonel and your lieutenant, none of them knowing about each other.

Ghost was never the jealous type, at least that's what he said. But some things changed when he heard your voice when he was passing in front of König's room.

"Scheiße, baby." He moaned. It wasn't so loud, but since Ghost had keen senses and was practically merging his ear with the door, it was loud enough for him to hear. He was startled, how could you do this?

For a brief moment, he felt insecure. Was he not enough for you? That's why you had to find someone else to give you pleasure? But you've always told him how it was good, how he fucked you just the way you liked it.

Lieutenant 'not the jealous type' Ghost.

Ironical.

But that feeling changed when he was pinning your face to the mattress, ass up, his cock abusing your hole. He held his phone up, filming how your ass jiggled when he thrusted hard inside you. Your arms were tied behind your back with his belt, and he held them before pulling out and jerking himself off, coming on your ass, cum dripping down your big lips.

And, well, that video was 'accidentally' sent to König's e-mail. 

She lets me cum inside.

Ghost could not fucking believe the answer he read on the phone. He expected König to back off, but apparently König had the same expectations.

He couldn't confront you, and the idea of sharing you with his superior was slowly driving him nuts. You noticed he started fucking you rougher, he'd shoot videos of you two having sex saying he needed those to remind him of you. Of course it was weird at first, but you could trust him, or so you thought.

On the other side, König was also a bit different, the man was once calm, always taking his time with you, but he started to enjoy being meaner. He'd either deny or overstimulate you until you cried on his girthy and long dick hitting your cervix. 

One day, while gagging on König's dick, you noticed him eyeing the locked phone on the bed, beside him. Without stopping, you reached for it and opened the camera, placing it on his large palm. He looks down at you, confused, and you give him a cock drunk smile. He didn't want to ask to film you, so this was pretty much convenient for him.

That was the first video he sent to Ghost in response to him fucking you senseless.

He was speechless. His cocky demeanor vanished as he tried to come up with a snarky response. Nothing could've prepared him to see you drooling on another cock. Unintentionally, the sight of you sucking another guy's dick made him hard. He had to excuse himself out of the meeting because he had a boner. It was funny, he felt like a teen.

But you noticed how both of them were different towards you and each other. They weren't used to talking before, and now it seemed like they'd punch each other's faces whenever they met in common rooms. König assigned difficult tasks towards Ghost and the thought of them knowing about your situationship terrified you once it crossed your mind.

You thought about confronting them, explaining the whole situation. They were both excellent in bed and they provided you with different feelings. König was soft and caring and Ghost was… well, Ghost. But you knew you could lose them two, even though you didn't have an established relationship with them.

One day, the task force is all drinking together, playing truth or dare. Gaz is dared to do something obscene, and he playfully moans like a girl.

Aye, sounds like the lad in König's room.

You choke, spitting the whiskey coke out, the soda gets out from your nose and your eyes get teary from the gas. They all get quiet when they look at you and you fake a laugh, of course Soap had to say that. 

They soon forgot about the awkwardness and went back to the game, but Ghost was eyeing you like a prey. You purposefully avoided them since you all joined for the party, and he and König sat on opposite sides from each other. You sat in between Price and Gaz, you all in a weird circle.

Meeting room. Now.

Your phone buzzed as you received a message from your Lieutenant. You read it from the notifications and looked up, but he was already gone in the darkness. You come up with an excuse and get out of the common area.

When you walked in, the phantom was standing right across the table, you could only see a glimpse of his eyes. The lights were off, but the room was lit when he started typing the digits of his phone password. He slowly stands up and walks towards you, your legs already trembling with fear. The phone is left on the table right in front of you, displaying a video of your fucked out face while sucking a dick very different from his.

"Simon, I can expl-" you try to say, but you're cut off as he grabs a fistful of your hair and buries your face on the cold wooden surface of the table.

"Y'know why I brought you here?" He asks, holding your wrists behind your back. "So everyone can see who you belong to." You feel him restraining your hands with one of his hands, and the spare one unfastened his belt and pulled his pants down just enough to expose his already hard dick.

At this moment, you thank yourself for wearing sweatpants, because they were easily pulled down from your body. He lifted his mask and spat on your pussy, then entered you with his full length, not giving you time to get used to his size.

He fucked you desperately, grabbing your hair again, making you look at the looping video on the screen of his phone.

"You're such a fucking little slut." He groaned. "You're so desperate you need two fat cocks?" You felt ashamed, your face burning, not knowing if it was from the whiskey or the embarrassment. The door made a locking sound and you jolted, but Ghost's grip didn't let you give a look. "Like what you see here, Colonel?" He asks in between breaths, you squirm and try to move but he holds you in place. Soon there was a figure across from you, sitting on the empty chair and manspreading.

"If you fucked her good enough she wouldn't come to me." He said in that thick German accent.

"You're really petty for a second option." Ghost holds your throat from behind, choking you and forcing you to look at König. You can see König's dick getting hard, it wasn't easy for him to mask that due to his size. He got up and slowly walked around the table to get to you. 

"How does he feel, schatz?" König grabs you by the chin, blue orbits finding its way into your soul. You couldn't even babble an answer, Ghost was fucking you brainless. Your eyes could only look back to König and your head could only nod. He lifts a bit of his hood and gives you a kiss, his lips containing the warmth you needed to melt.

"Kneel." Ghost demands you as he pulls out. You do as you're told, but in order to comfortably be on your knees, you pull your pants back up. They don't seem to care. König takes his belt off and folds it, running it from your chest to your chin, lifting your head.

"Be a good girl, ya?" He says as he pushes his pants down, his dick bouncing up as he releases from the boxers. Without even noticing, your mouth was already open and your tongue was laying flat. König brushed his pinkish, leaking tip on your lips and tongue, the familiar salty taste of his precum invading your senses. He pushes it in your mouth, fucking it slowly. Your hand travels to Ghost's dick and jerks him off as he watches. "Like what you see, Lieutenant?" König chuckles.

Ghost was going to give him a sarcastic response, but his head fell back when you started to suck him off, your hand now on König. As you expected, Ghost wasn't so gentle, so his hand grabbed your hair and pushed your throat down his length. You soon became a drooling mess, taking turns on each throbbing cock in front of you.

Your jaw became sore, taking just one of them was already hard enough. You felt a pressure against your pussy and looked down, König's boot was grinding against you. You groan, sinking your weight on his foot. The more you gagged around them, the more he'd move.

"Didn't I tell you were just a fucking whore?" Ghost pulled from your mouth and tapped his cock on your tear stained cheeks. "Getting off his foot, huh? So desperate." As if it was possible for you to get any wetter, you felt another wave of arousal moisten your panties.

He got you up and almost dragged you to the sofa in the corner of the room. König followed just behind. Ghost sat down and made you kneel in front of him, and König positioned himself behind you, large palms roaming your small body and gently pulling your pants down again. He aligned his shaft with your soaked pussy and in one long thrust he pushed it deep inside you.

"Just so… fucking tight." You hear him whimper as he bottoms out. Your eyes are locked with the masked man in front of you, that's slowly jerking himself off at the sight of you being filled by someone else. "Gonna have to tear this pretty pussy apart." You clench around him and he starts fucking you. 

Ghost gently pulls your face closer and lifts his mask, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips. You could only moan, in hope no one else could hear it. Your lips were now connected on Ghost's member, eagerly sucking him off. Your moans sent vibrations down his skin and he groaned whenever you gagged.

König's cock was buried deep down your walls, he felt an incessant need to slam his hips into yours and make you a moaning mess, so he held your hips in place as he thrusted hard into you. One of his hands travelled down to your clit and started rubbing circles, easily making you orgasm around him. He felt his climax getting closer, but he didn't want this moment to end just as quick. When his pace became erratic, he pulled out, slapping your ass.

He got up and sat down beside Ghost, who got up and pulled you to his arms, holding you firmly in the air. Your legs were pushed to your chest, the back of your knees held by his veiny forearms. He entered your used hole and started slow, but it didn't last long and he was soon bouncing you up and down his length.

König watched as you took Ghost entirely, thinking about how tight you'd feel with another cock inside you. He gets up and walks behind you, brushing his tip on you.

"Do you think she can handle?" König asks with genuine concern.

"She'll take it and thank you for it, isn't that right, bunny?" Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, your face buried in his neck. You manage a small nod before feeling another monstrous cock entering your abused hole.

How that fit was a story for another day, but your pussy was happy to be filled by two men. The pain started to go away and you moved a bit to signal them to go. They managed to keep the same pace for a while. König let you lay back on his chest as Ghost held your legs, they pushed deep down into your core.

"Look at you, taking both of us." Ghost mumbles. "Such an obedient little pet." 

"Such a good girl, liebe." König moans in your ear.

They kept fucking you until you felt empty again. Emptier than ever. Your pants were taken away from your body and König pulled you on top of him as he sat down on the couch, already making you sit on his shaft. Ghost came behind you and you felt a humid finger entering your tight little hole. 

"Simon-" you moan.

"Shut up." He puts another finger in.

"Too much."

"You've taken it before and you're gonna take it again like the good slut you are, understood?" You slowed down on König and felt another finger inside of you, stretching your butthole. You couldn't help but whimper at the way he was using you. "Don't stop fucking her." König holds your hips and starts thrusting harder.

Ghost replaced his fingers with his aching dick and you've never felt so good, so filled. He waited a minute before moving, giving you a bit to adjust. But goddamn it you were tight.

As soon as the pain went away, he started to move, gradually going faster. König was a whimpering mess below you, moaning german praises in your ear. In little to no time, you found yourself being railed once again.

"Can't take much more." König whimpered, digging his nails on your hips. Ghost landed a sharp slap to your ass and towered over you to reach for your clit, he stimulated you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to memorize your scent.

Your legs trembled as you felt your high approaching faster and faster, and you fall on König's chest, trying to muffle your loud moans. 

"That's right, baby, be a good girl and come for us." König holds you close, reaching a new spot. That's what it took for you to squirt all over their dicks. Crying at the non stopping thrusts.

"Always have to leave a mess, huh?" You're still squirming as you hear Ghost say. "Fuck, you're so pretty when you cry."

König also feels his orgasm approaching and with a few more thrusts he can't hold it anymore.

"Gonna fill your cunt with my cum." He moans, holding your chin to look at him. He comes inside of you, but he doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. He keeps on slamming his dick inside your cervix and pushing his cum inside you, making the tears fall out of your eyes. He becomes a whimpering mess as he overstimulates his dick in your pussy.

Ghost also can't stop thinking about how good you feel, and how bad he needs to cum inside you. He slips a hand in front of your body and squeezes your breasts. It was enough to electrify his body and sent shivers down his spine. With just a few more erratic thrusts, he spills his seeds in your hole. He pulls out, kissing your back through his mask. König finally pulls out too, his dick red from the overstimulation. You collapse on his chest, losing consciousness.

"Truce?" He asks Ghost, who's getting dressed.

"Truce."

[rafedaddy01]

“You can take it” || rafe x Barry x reader

Summary: you, Barry, and rafe are all best friends, after a night of partying (snorting coke in Barry’s trailer) the three of you end up having a little too much fun.

This night changed everything, the whole dynamic of your friend group has shifted. But, you have to be honest with yourself, you most definitely enjoyed it.

Genre: dark, rough, smut, lots and lots of smut (I mean just look at the request)

Warnings: smut, threesome, anal, but plug, toys, male receiving oral, language, degrading, name calling, p in v, unprotected sex, mentions of drugs (just barely tho)

Authors note: guys. I just saw that I have a little over 2k followers thank you so much (I’m gonna fucking cry rn)

——————————————————————————

You were at home. Well not physically, but home is where the heart is. And as weird and disturbing as it may sound, your home was in Barry’s trailer with your two best friends, Rafe Cameron and Barry.

You honestly don’t even remember how the three of you became friends.

It was at some party, you were trying to buy coke off some prick who kept flirting with you the whole night and withholding the coke from you until you let him hit, and of course that prick ended up being Rafe. You never let him near you though, you simply pretended to be going in for a kiss and when he was too distracted you reached in his pocket and grabbed the little dime bag and booked it.

Rafe had to admit, you were feisty and he respected that, you were also smart and sneaky. So he introduced you to his dealer, Barry.

And ever since then the three of you have been tighter than tighty whiteys.

“Yo, quick hogging that shit man” Barry snatched the dollar bill from Rafes hand before plopping himself on the empty couch cushion next to you.

“You’ve got a fuckin problem, country club” he laughed and shook his head before leaning down and snorting the white powder.

“My turn” your pretty manicured nails snatched the bill from Barry.

“I don’t have a problem. This shit just helps me relax” both you and Barry watched him pull another rolled up doller bill and a little dime bag out of his back pocket.

Laughing you said, “you’ve got a problem Cameron” before leaning down and taking your final line.

You don’t even know how the next events took place. The only thing you remember was laughing so hard you snorted and then laughing some more as the guys laughed at your snort, and then both your hands landed on the thighs on either side of you, rubbing up and down.

“Mmm, wanna do something wild?” Your words were strung together as you leaned your head back on the couch, “what’s that, princess?” Rafes raspy voice brought your eyes to his and you watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. “Let’s all fuck each other”

And that’s how you ended up on your stomach on Barry’s squeaky trailer bed. Rafe pounding into from behind, and Barry stuffing your mouth from the front.

“Such a good fuckin girl, isn’t she Barry?” Rafe praised you as he moved in and out at a rough pace, his palm coming flat against your ass as he spanked you. “She sure is, country club. Letting us use her like this, such a slut” Barry groaned out, his lips curving and his gold tooth shining in the light.

“What do you say we have some more fun” Rafe spoke behind you. You couldn’t turn your head to see what he was holding because of the grip Barry had on your hair and how far down his cock was in your throat, but you knew it wasn’t good when you saw the wicked look in Barry’s eyes. “Go for it, I want this whore stuffed in all her holes” Barry brought his eyes back down to yours, you looked up at him with a pleading look. “Shh, it’s alright princess. You can take it”

He pet your hair back and wiped the tears from your cheeks as you felt the cold metal pushing between your ass, rafe groaned behind you before you felt his spit fall right onto your tight ring, you felt it drip down and onto your pussy where he was still moving in and out in slower strokes. “Are you gonna be a good girl for us, huh princess? You gonna let us use you in any way, be our little sex doll” rafe slapped your ass and you moaned around Barry’s cock, trying to answer.

“What was that?” Rafe smacked you again and again until Barry pulled his cock out. You turned your head and looked rafe right in the eyes as you whined “please”

“That’s what I like to hear” one last slap to your ass before he pushed the metal plug all the way into your tight ass and his hips sped up.

Your mouth flew out and Barry took it as a chance to shove himself right back in.

You were wasted. High off coke, mind fuzzy, body on fire, your mouth was stuffed and the sounds of both men moaning your name and getting pleasure from your body drove you wild.

You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to come.

Your hand moved down to toy with your clit, moaning louder around Barry, “would you look at that, little slut wants to get off” Barry told rafe. “Should we let her?”

“Not yet” Rafe stopped moving inside you and pulled out, you whined, crying at the empty feeling and desperately rutting against your hand to get any kind of friction. The plug in your ass was removed and that was the last straw, your cheeks had tears streaming down them.

“Shh, come here baby.” Rafe grabbed you and turned you around so you were laying on his chest, straddling his lap. “Why are you crying? Huh?” He grabbed your face and smooshed your cheeks together with one hand as the other wiped away your tears. “You’re the one that wanted this, remember? Begging us to fuck you like a whore”

“I-I just wanna cum, please” you whined like a child, begging for some sort of relief from them.

“And you will” he shushed you, “just when we say you can” and the smile he had on his face was wiped off and replaced with a sadistic smirk.

Your eyes widened as he hugged you against his chest and you felt him slip back inside you as Barry slipped in between your other tight hole, filling you to the brim.

You were so stuffed and full you couldn’t even breathe. Just accepting defeat and laying against Rafes chest as you let them use your body for their pleasure.

It was your idea after all

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover @mema10

[evie-sturns]

red - 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰

summary: you and matt have been dating for a month, the most you've ever done is made out, one night things turn, which results in you and matt both losing your virginity.

warnings: smut, virgin!matt, virgin!reader, swearing, fluff.

------------------... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..------------------

i'm 19, and still a virgin. my boyfriend matt doesnt know, i'm too scared to tell him even though i know he would never judge me. nothing sexual has ever happened between us, but its bound to happen at some point, right?

matt and i are laying in his bed together, the house is empty for once as we cuddle close, watching a movie. i take a deep breath through my nose, anxiety rushing through me as my thoughts race

what if it hurts? what if matt won't think of me the same if i tell him? am i even ready?

"y/n, are you okay sweetheart, you're tensing like crazy." matt rubs my back, reasurringly.

"matt." i whisper, my voice hoarse.

"yeah?" he says, sitting up, his back pressing against the headboard as i lay on his chest.

what do i even say? i cant just say- "i want to have sex with you."

shit. the words came out like word vomit.

i throw my hand over my mouth, sitting up off matts chest and leaping off the bed. an awkward silence floods through the room as i reach for the door handle.

"come back." he says calmly, patting the spot next to him.

i nod like a guilty kid as i walk back over to his bed, sitting down next to him. "did you mean what you said sweetheart?" he says, interlocking our fingers. "possibly.." i mumble, my cheeks flushing.

matt laughs

"what!!" i say, slapping him softly.

"you're so red." he giggles,

"god shut up." i mumble, a smile spreading across my face.

another silence grows in the room as we decide what to say next. i clear my throat, "matt i need to say something." i whisper, looking everywhere but at him. he nods, squeezing my hand.

"i'm uh.. a virgin.?" i say, barely audible as i rub my eyes. "but like, i know its weird from my age but its just, i really love you, and everything about you.. i think i want you to take my virginity.."

"me too." he says, his cheeks red.

"you too?" i repeat, my eyebrows furrowing.

the room goes quiet, i'm quite frankly in shock.

its no secret matt's had mutiple girlfriends before me, but im finding it hard to wrap my head around how hes never done anything.

"look who's red now." i smile, staring at matts face.

"shush," he says, pressing a finger to my lips.

i pull off my shirt, revealing my white lacy bra.

matt's eyes widen. "oh." he coughs, his eyes fixated on my chest.

"too soon?" i ask, reaching for my shirt, starting to put it back on. "no no-.." he says grabbing the shirt from my hands and throwing it across the room. "is it really that good that you had to throw it across the room?" i laugh

"well don't want to risk you putting it back on!" he shrugs before pulling off his crewneck. i swallow hard, "i don't know what i'm doing if i'm being honest." i sigh, matt sits up, pressing a kiss to my forehead, "me neither, we'll figure it out." matt smiles.

i lay back on the bed as matt stands up, spreading my legs apart and stepping between them, he places a hand on the side of my face as he leans down, kissing from my neck.. to my chest.. to my belly button.

my breathing intensifies. pure nerves flooding through my body.

"are you nervous..?" he asks, pausing his pecks at my waistband.

"no." i lie through my teeth.

"mm yes you are..." he says teasingly.

"fine, i just don't want it to hurt, my friends all say it is the most uncomfortable thing the first time.." i mumble, running a hand through my hair.

"i know, you're stressing me out now!" he laughs, yanking down his sweatpants leaving him in his boxers. i follow his lead, unclasping my bra, matt stares at me shamelessly "fuck." he mumbles "you're so pretty.." he whispers.

“you okay?” he asks, reaching for the waistband of my shorts. i nod, looking him in the eyes.

“can i take these two off?” he asks, referring to my panties and shorts,

“y-yeah.. yep.” i mumble, he pauses.

“please don’t be nervous, just try to relax and i promise you it won’t hurt okay?” he says leaning down and kissing the tip of my nose.

“i’ll try to relax.” i say to matt, he slowly pulls down my panties, leaving me revealed in-front of him

“oh my god- okay, this might be a weird question but do you ever touch yourself..” matt says, staring at me

i burst into giggles, my face going red. matt slams a hand over his face “stupid question?” he smiles.

“no no.. it’s a good question but yeah i do. why?” i smirk

“oh thank god, i was worried about you.. being too tight and if i’m too big it won’t fit.” he says with a sigh

“mr. big dick over here everyone!” I joke, resulting in him rubbing his eyes “i didnt mean it like that.”

“you’re cute matt.” i say spreading my legs apart.

matt’s breath hitches in his throat as he stares at me, it’s probably the first naked woman that he’s been with in person.

“i have condoms..” he mumbled quietly

“oh.” i say with a disappointed tone

“babe i am not making you pregnant at 19.” he scoffs, opening his bedside table.

“i’m on the pill dumbass.” i smile, reaching for him

“i thought you were a virgin?” he asks his eyebrows furrowing

“matt i am, it’s just for other reaso-.. fuck it i’ll explain later”

matt’s boxers have a noticeable bulge pressing from the inside.

“you can take those off..” i whisper.

“yeah yup uhm of course!” he says shakily.

“why are you nervous now??” i laugh and he groans

“what if i’m bad..” he sighs

“where’s my clit.” i say bluntly, he points to it exactly.

“where the hole.” i say again, again he points to it with accuracy

“there you go, you’ll be fine, and i cant even judge you cause i don’t know better either!” i say assuring him

he slowly pulls off his boxers, his erection sprinting out tapping his bellybutton. “oh my god.” i whisper to myself.

“we need a towel matt..” i say standing up off the bed.

“for what?” he says quietly

“blood?” i say casually, he turns white. “what.”

he looks around nervously “you’re on your period?”

i laugh, “i’m on birth control sweetheart, remember?”

“then why the fuck will you bleed..”

“look at you, that dick will rip my hymen.” i say, he hands me his shirt,

“i don’t know what the fuck that means but here’s a shirt you can put under you.” he says nervously, his hand shaking as he passes me the shirt.

“you’re okay if it gets blood on it?”

“mhm i just wanna start..” he says quietly.

“jesus okay.” i say laying back on the bed, the shirt under me.

he grabs his base as he stands between my legs, he rubs his tip over my folds, sending goosebumps around my body. i let out a desperate moan.

“just tap me if you want me to stop and i will instantly okay..?” matt says, his tone less shaky then before. “i’ll go so slow.”

he lines himself up with my hole, pushing himself toward slightly, nothing happens.

“i cant um.. go further.” he says, pushing at my entrance

“what.?” i ask

“i think you really need to relax your whole body, loosen up a little bit okay?” he says pressing a kiss to my cheek.

he holds out a hand infront of my mouth “spit.” he demands

“gross!” i say with a smirk painted across my face

“i know..” he says, his hand not moving away, i spit into his hand, matt quickly moves it down, using it as a lube.

“relax as much as you can okay?” he says, pressing slowly into me.

“fuck fuck fuck..” i moan, squeezing my eyes shut

i feel his tip slide into me, a loud whimper escapes matt’s mouth “oh my god..” he pushes further into me, a stretching burning sensation grows as i feel a tear fall down my cheek, he pushes the rest of the way in, stopping completely to look at me as he’s still buried inside me.

“hey hey, don’t cry your okay, you took it all!” he says caressing my cheek and rubbing the few tears that fell away. “tell me when to move, remember if you need a break tell me, if you want me to stop tap me.” he says.

i nod, looking him in the eyes “move.. please-“ i say, balling the sheets up with my fists, he nods, pulling almost out then thrusting back in, he’s going slowly.

matt is clearly trying to conceal his noises as he continues to pull out then push in. the burning sensation slowly disappears, and is replaced with pleasure

a strong smile spreads across my face, “feels good now?” he asks, his voice croaky.

“yes..” i manage to squeeze out “faster.. please” he picks up the pace slightly “i’m not gonna last long this time.” he warns

i clench around him, he twitches inside me then instantly fills me up, my jaw goes slack as i look up at him.

“shit i am so sorry..” he says pulling out with a slick sound, he grabs my hips and stands me up, i feel his cum start to leak down my leg as my leg shakes

“oh shit oh shit..” he says frantically looking around, he settles on his shirt, grabbing it and places it on me, collecting everything that is coming out of me. i laugh at the sight of him between my legs, wiping his orgasm off my thighs.

“was that okay for you, did it hurt?” he says picking me up.

“i think you just rearranged my organs.”

his cheeks go red.

------------------... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..------------------

very much requested hope you guys liked it,

don’t be shy to spam my inbox btw i love talking to people

[rosenclaws]

So This Is Love (Cinderella AU) || Logan x Reader

summary: You've spent most of your life being your stepfamilies maid and nothing more. But a chance encounter and an announcement of a royal ball could change everything.

warnings: fem!reader, toxic family, loss, angst, arguments, abusive household, fluffy ending. Typical cinderella story stuff

a/n: Okay so I am so excited for this!! I adore cinderella. Both the 1950 and the 2015 one. I kind of mixed both for this story and then added a few things myself. Also the dress I had in mind was the one from the 2015 movie because it's fucking gorgeous. I hope you all love prince Logan and that I was able to do the classic cinderella story justice. I also tried adding some x-men related names to keep the logan vibes but idk if its weird or not im sorry afasdfghj

Kindness.

Your mother always told you how important that was. To be kind even when the world looked down upon you for it. Treat everyone and everything with a gentle hand a nice smile. That's the way she lived her life. Always with a smile on her face. She just glowed. Your earlier memories of her were filled with joy and laughter. Going to the town market and greeting every one who ran the stalls.

The flower merchant was your favorite. Every time she had the prettiest flowers of all sorts of colors. Your mother always let you pick out one and place it in your hair. You had never felt more beautiful. Your father was just the same. The two of them were in love and everyone could see just how happy the little family was.

Then one day your mother got sick.

She fainted in the yard. You were only a child, your mother wouldn't wake up. You rushed to get your father and the next thing you knew you were sitting outside of her room being told it was time to say goodbye.

The light seemed to dim that day. Your father, he did his best. He loved you and tried to make you smile but things grew tougher and tougher for the two of you. He remarried to a woman who was cold at best. Distant and uncaring towards you with two daughters, Cassandra and Raven, who never gave you the time of day. But your father cared. But sometimes life was just too much.

The day your father died was the day the light truly left your world. Kindness. How could the world be so cruel to a family that only showed the best to everyone around them? Your stepmother grew cold and mean, your step sisters even crueler. You became the maid for the house. You cooked and cleaned and did the laundry.

The attic became your home. But even after it all, you could never forget your mothers words. So even when it was hard, you smiled. For it was all you could do.

The clock tower wakes you up just like it does every morning. The sun shines through the window and you sit up. You sigh as you try and hold on to the wisps of your dreams. It was of your mother this time. You loved those dreams. But there was no time to dilly dally. Getting up you open the window to let the fresh air in. A few little robins land on the window sill.

"Hello little ones, it's a lovely morning isn't it." You reach down into the small sack of bird seed and place a some in front of their feet. You hold out your finger and one of them hops onto it.

"Time to start another day," You hum.

Once they had eaten you watch them fly away, a part of you wishing you could join them. Wondering what it was like to be free. But there was no time to wonder. You did your chores like clockwork. Making the morning tea and breakfast for your step mother and sisters. Gather their laundry, feed the animals, tend to the garden.

"Hello mister, what are you doing here?" As you pulled fresh carrots from the ground you found a little field mouse hiding between the greens.

"Are you hungry?" You don't reach out, not wanting to scare him.

His big eyes looked up at you and his nose twitched. Sometimes you wondered if they could understand you, your animal friends were lovely company. Reaching into your pocket you pull out some left over chicken feed.

"I know it's not much but I hope it will do." The mouse gathers it in his little paws and scurries away. You smile as you bring back the veggies.

"Perhaps we'll do soup for dinner, how does that sound?" You ask Bruno the family dog who was sitting at your feet.

He lets out a low huff and you chuckle. A loud ring echoes through the kitchen. The bell on the wall signals you were needed at the front door. You hurried up the stairs to the door.

"Hello sir, how can I help you?" The man wordlessly hands you a letter and leaves.

You turn the letter over in your hands. You could just tell this was no ordinary letter. The envelope was cream colored with beautiful gold lettering. On the back rested a solid red wax seal with the royal crest pressed into it. At once you hurried to the study where your sisters were practicing music. You weren't supposed to interrupt but this was a letter from the castle. You cautiously open the door and three sets of eyes rest on you.

"Ma'am I'm sorry to-"

"What have I told you about interrupting us? You insolent child." Your step mother berates. You hold out the letter and lower your head.

"I know but a letter from the castle came and-" Once again your cut off as your step mother rips the letter from your hands. Your step sisters squealed so loud you swore the glass would break.

"A ball is to be held for all the the eligible maidens of the Kingdom." Your step mother announces to your step sisters. Cassandra grabs the letter from her mother and continues to read.

"The prince will take a wife!" Raven rips it from her sisters hands.

"The ball is to be held in two weeks! That's not enough time, we need new dresses and make up." The two girls are sent into frenzy at the news.

Meanwhile you were still processing the news. All the eligible maidens, well that meant you too! Oh your mother used to tell stories of going to balls. Dressing up and dancing to the music.

"Go to the village at once! Place an order with the seamstress for three dresses. And get the girls whatever they need." Your step mother commands and hands you the money. Your step sisters were busy writing down all the things they needed.

"Three dresses Ma'am?" She stops and looks at you in confusion.

"Yes three, for me and your sisters obviously."

"But the invitation says all eligible maidens...may...go." Your voice trails off as the three of them stare at you.

A moment of silence passes before all three of them burst out in laughter. You want nothing more than to disappear. Shame creeping up as they laugh like the idea of you going anywhere was just so amusing.

"You? Go to the ball in those rags?" Raven cackles. You smooth down your dress, trying to get rid of the wrinkles.

"What prince would ever want a peasant girl for a wife?" Cassandra adds on.

"Girls please, it's not her fault she's so...imaginative." Your step mother walks up to you. You feel so small under her gaze.

"Look at you, be serious. You are not worthy of a prince my dear." You feel tears pool in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall in front of them.

"I just want to go to the ball, What if I made my own dress?" You ask quietly. Your step mother thinks for a moment before a smirk crosses her face.

"Perhaps if you find your own dress and finish all the chores, you can go." Protests erupt from your step sisters but one look quiets them down. She takes their list and hands it to you.

"Now run along now, only the best for me and my girls." Without another word you turn on your heel and leave.

Your step mothers words replay over and over in your head. Worthy of a prince, you don't care about the prince. All you want is one night away, to enjoy yourself and forget about the hardships. The fabric for a dress would cost a pretty penny that you don't have. Not to mention the chores. But it wasn't impossible.

There's a dress hidden in the attic, it was your mothers. It wasn't anything impressive but it was a dress and it held a lot of special memories. The town was bustling with excitement from the news. The castle hasn't held a ball in years, ever since the Queen had passed unexpectedly one night the King had shut the doors of the castle. No one had even seen the prince. They knew not his face, only a name. James.

"Hello Eden, It's lovely to see you again." You greet the town seamstress with a smile.

"I assume you've gotten a plethora of orders since the announcement." Eden was the best seamstress in a hundred miles of here. She was older but her skills never wavered. She used to patch up your dresses when you came with your mother.

"Yes my dear, thank goodness for my daughters or I'd never finish it all in time."

"I'm afraid I'm here to add to your list. My step mother wishes to order three dresses for the ball." You hand Eden the money and she sighs. Your family was not easy clients. Always nitpicking her work and treating her like dirt.

"Only three?" You smile sadly as she adds the order to her stack.

"It's alright, I have an old dress of my mothers somewhere. It just needs to be fixed up and It's ready to go." Eden smiles softly and places her hands on top of yours.

She was always kind to you since your parents passed. She was like the grandmother you never had. "Here my dear, perhaps you can use some of these." She reaches down beneath the counter and hands you a box filled with scrap fabric and some jewels.

"Oh Eden thank you, this is perfect." You take the items and place them in your satchel.

You leave Eden's and begin on the list of things your step sisters have asked for. You bounced from shop to shop buying all of their strange requests. Your bag grew heavy as the sun moved through the sky.

"Hey! Get back here!" You turn your head to see the baker yelling at a little girl. She was dressed in rags, dirt on her face with a loaf of bread in her hands. He has her by her wrist and she was trying to get free. Without thinking you storm over.

"You little brat! I'll show you what happens to thieves like you!" The baker hisses and before he can do anything else you get between them.

"Stop that! She's a child!"

"She's a thief." His grip tightens on her little wrist and you feel yourself growing angry.

"She's hungry, can't you spare her some kindness." You plead.

While the baker is distracted the little girl bites his hand making him yelp in pain. He lets go of her and she runs away. With the girl gone the baker's anger turns to you.

"You stupid girl! You owe me for that bread and more. I hope that little girl was worth it!" You don't have any money left and the baker was growing more and more upset.

"I don't have the money sir but I can pay you back tomorrow." You tell him but he doesn't like that answer. You gasp as he grabs your arm tightly.

"You aren't leaving until that bread is paid for!" Before you can say anything else a large hand grabs the bakers.

You look to the side and see a man glaring at the baker. You don't recognize him but from the looks of his clothes he was most likely a nobleman visiting.

"Unhand the lady immediately." His voice is stern as the baker does what he says.

"That girl cost me a loaf of bread!" The man steps between the two of you, almost like he's acting as a guard.

"So? Are you that desperate for money that you can't spare a loaf of bread for a needy child?" The man asks.

The baker begins to stutter but the stranger seems to not care at all. The stranger relishing him to a nervous mess. You wonder just who this man was.

"You're embarrassing yourself sir, I would go back to your shop if I were you." The baker does as told, mumbling to himself as he retreats back into his shop. The man suddenly turns to you.

"Are you alright?" He stands so tall as he looks down at your arm. The man before you was unlike anyone you've seen. A handsome face but a stern aura. His clothes were woven with intricate detail and he was well kept.

"Yes, thank you sir." You bow your head to the man in thanks.

"That man was out of line, you were only trying to help." He states. You grew nervous under his intense eyes.

Out of the corner of your eye you see a pair of eyes watching you. It was the little girl, she quickly ducks behind a wall and you follow her. The man following you.

"Hello sweetheart, It's okay I won't hurt you." You say gently as you kneel down. She looks at you and then at the man with cautious eyes. You reach into your bag and pull out a few apples you had bought for a pie.

"Here, take them." She quickly grabs them from your hands and hides them away.

"Thank you." She says quietly.

"What's your name?" The man asks, he kneels down just like you. For some reason she doesn't seem afraid of him.

"Laura."

"That's a pretty name, where do you live?" He offers her a kind smile and she seems to relax a little bit.

"The orphanage." She replies.

Your heart breaks as you watch her small figure devour one of the apples. The orphanage was filled with too many kids and not enough money to help. The kids were often left starving and lonely. She must have snuck out to get food.

"Want to go back." She looks at the two of you and you reach out your hand.

"Come along then." Her tiny hand fits in yours as you walk her back to the orphanage.

The man comes with the two of you, his presence enough to deter any stares or rude comments. When you bring her to the front gates she rushes into the yard, pulling out the bread and breaking it apart to give to the other children. She looks back at the two of you and waves.

"That was a very kind thing you did back there." The man says, watching Laura with a frown.

"I just wanted to help her." You adjust the bag on your shoulder, its heavy weight taking a toll.

"Allow me." Before you can protest the man takes your bag and effortlessly puts it on his own shoulder.

"Oh it's okay sir, the walk back is far and I don't want to burden you." You try and reach for the bag but he doesn't let you.

"I don't mind. I would like to walk you back if that's alright with you. A gesture of kindness for earlier." You want to accept but you're hesitant, you don't even know who this man is. But he seems kind and you could use the help. It's been a long time since a stranger has shown you such kindness.

"Okay, but before you go I must ask your name." He begins to speak but stops himself, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment.

"Logan, my name is Logan."

"Are you from here Logan? Or are you only here for the ball?" "I grew up here." His answers are short but you don't mind. It's nice being able to talk to someone who doesn't stand on four legs.

"Are all these things for the ball, a little excessive don't you think?" He's very straightforward but you appreciate that.

"It's not for me, it's for my step sisters. They wanted all new make up and a new dress and anything they could think of." Logan chuckles and looks fondly at you.

"I don't understand the appeal of a ball to be honest, it seems like a place for obnoxious people to be around other obnoxious people." Logan states plainly.

"Perhaps, but for people like me it's exciting. My mother used to love to dress up and this is my chance to do the same."

"Used to?" Logan asks, his gaze softening as he notices your eyes flicker with sadness.

"She passed some time ago." You say sadly.

"My apologies." He looks at you and then looks forward at the path.

"My mother passed too."

"Oh Logan I'm so sorry." You place your hand on his arm in a moment of comfort.

"It’s okay, that’s just how life goes sometimes.” You wanted the talk to last forever.

But far too soon you reached the edge of town. You didn’t want him to know where you lived, if he walked you all the way back your stepmother might see him. It's better to keep him away from your mess.

“This is good. I can walk the rest of the way.” You tell him. He frowns as you stop dead in your tracks.

“Are you certain?” He asks in a confused tone.

“Yes, thank you so much Logan but I really must be going.” You take the bag and hurry off, leaving him standing alone in the road.

You were scolded for returning so late but you could care less. You had a dress to make. For the next two weeks every spare moment you had was dedicated to fixing your mothers dress. The spare fabric was perfect to patch up holes and add a satin neckline while the jewels made the whole dress shine. You powered through the chores and the lack of sleep for this.

Every now and again your thoughts would drift to Logan. Wondering if you’d see him at the ball, if you could get to dance with the man who came to your rescue. He was a very handsome man that you couldn’t deny. Would he even be interested in dancing with you? Would he care that you were nothing more than a peasant girl? He might take one look at you at home and run for the hills. But a girl can dream can’t she.

The day of the ball you were buzzing with excitement. Your chores were all done and all that’s left was to get ready. You hear the stomping of the horses outside and you hurried down the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Your step mother asks. Eyeing your dress with a disgusted look. The smile on your face drops.

“I finished my chores and I have a dress…you said I could go if I did all those things.”

“You call that a dress?” Raven scoffs. She circles you like a predator.

“This is nothing but a disaster. Imagine you dancing with the prince. Tripping over your own two feet and then oops,” She grabs a piece of your dress and rips it apart.

“Stop!” You cry as you try and grab the piece in her hand. Cassandra grabs the newly sewn neckline and rips it off.

“See? Nothing but a cheap imitation of real class.” You beg them to stop as they tear apart your dress.

Your mothers dress. All your hard work, your hope was gone. Tears stream down your face as you grab the scraps from their hands.

“Oh dear, it appears you don’t have a dress anymore. What a shame. Come along girls.” You watch through blurry vision as they leave.

Cackling with joy as they board the carriage. You don’t understand. Why do they hate you so much? What did you ever do to you? You’ve tried your whole life to be kind, to make your mother proud but it feels like the world is punishing you for it.

Your mother is gone. Your father is gone. The only family, if you can even call them that, hates you. They treat you like dirt. You race through the house. Running to the backyard and collapsing onto the ground. You sob into the scraps of fabric as you mourn the life you’ve missed. The hurt bubbling to the service.

“I’m sorry mother, I can’t do this anymore. I’m trying to be like you but I just can’t.”

“My dear, please don’t cry.” You scream as an unfamiliar voice speaks into your ear. You scramble back as a man in a red mask and a poofy white dress stands before you.

“W-Who are you?” You ask in disbelief.

“Well I’m Wade, your fairy godmother of course!” He says happily, pulling out a wand and sending sparks into the air. You watch in awe as the color bursts into the air.

“My what?”

“Fairy godmother! Corset and all sweetheart. My organs are all touching.” He whispers that last part to you.

“I don’t understand, You can do magic?”

“Uh, the magic wand here isn’t just for show.” He says while waving it around. A burst of magic shoots from the tip accidently and goes right through the attic window. He makes a noise and looks back at you.

“Whoopsie. Still working out the kinks.” He says while slamming the wand against his hand. You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Anyways, It is my job to get you to the ball and to get you to the hot prince who’s waiting for you.” He leans in and nudges your shoulder.

“You’ll have to tell me if he really does have hair, everywhere.” You squeak at the implication and Wade just skips off. He points his wand at the pumpkin patch.

“I’ve always wanted to do this!” He says excitedly. He speaks the magic words and before your very eyes a pumpkin grows and grows until he becomes a carriage. You gasp in amazement. Rushing over admiring the gorgeous white carriage.

“Okay now we need some horses!” Wade looks around the garden and sees a few field mice watching in the grass.

“Okay I haven’t done mice yet but what could go wrong right?” He shoots his magic at the mice and misses, causing a carrot to crawl out of the ground and run away.

“Will you just stay still! The cartoon mice were much more cooperative.” It takes him a few tries but he eventually gets them all.

Four beautiful stallions at the front of your carriage. A goose sitting by the fountain finds himself victim to Wade’s magic. Becoming a footman in an instant.

“Now we need to fix. All of this.” He gestures to your dress.

"Yeesh, would not say yes to this dress.” He mumbles as he starts to wave his wand.

“Oh! Please be gentle with this. It was my mothers.” You ask. You don’t want a full replacement. Just a little touch up.

“Don’t worry. I know what to do!” He cracks his knuckles and neck.

“Okay, maximum effort.” Magic surrounds you as you feel the dress change.

Your jaw drops as the torn rags turn into a beautiful blue ball gown. It was the prettiest dress you had ever seen. The way it swished and sparkled in the moonlight. It was beyond your wildest dreams. You lift your dress only to find crystal glass slippers adorned on your feet.

“I never understood glass slippers. As if heels weren’t hard enough to walk in. Trust me. These are killing me.” He lifts his own dress to show you heels taller than you’ve ever seen.

“It makes my butt look amazing though.” You laugh as you twirl around.

“Oh thank you Wade. How can I ever repay you for this?”

“Aw don’t worry child, You deserve this.” He pats your head and takes your hand, helping you into the carriage.

“First things first, I will hide your identity to your family for plot convenience so they won’t recognize you.” He taps his wand on your cheek and you wince as it pokes your skin.

“Second, to keep things interesting, this only lasts until midnight. Once the clock strikes 12 everything will revert back to the way it was. Except for the glass slippers. For some reason.” You nod, you don’t need this to last forever. This was enough. Just one night was enough.

“Thank you Wade. For everything.” You lean over and kiss his cheek.

“Awe, you really know how to make a guy blush. Now hurry! You don’t have much time. Mush horsies mush!” The horses take off and you watch Wade disappear in the distance.

You can barely contain your joy as you head to the castle. You couldn’t stop touching the dress or the plush seats of the carriage. It was unbelievable. A part of you was afraid if you blinked it would all go away or that this was just a dream and you were still back home. But as you near the castle it feels all too real. As you reach the steps of the castle your footman helps you out onto the ground. You turn and curtsy to the horses and to your footman.

“Thank you all.” Your heels clack on the marble stairs as you race up to the grand hall.

You’re awestruck at the beauty of the castle. Before the ballroom you stop in front of a large portrait of who you assume to be the royal family. The King sits regal as ever with the Queen standing by his side. A kind smile on her face as her hands rest on the Prince’s shoulder. The prince is only a child but you see he had his mothers hazel eyes. You bow to the portrait and then move to the ballroom.

The doors open and suddenly everyone's eyes are on you. A hush falls over the crowd as you walk up to the balcony. You see the King sitting at the front of the room, bowing in respect. You effortlessly glide down the stairs to the main floor. Whispers are shared throughout the guests but you pay them no mind. You were truly here. The music starts up again and the party slowly goes back to normal. You weaved your way through the crowd. Sneaking a chocolate covered strawberry from the dessert table. It was the sweetest thing you had ever tasted.

“That was quite an entrance.” You feel a hand on your shoulder and you turn around, your dress moving with you.

“Logan! You came.” You say with a smile. You weren’t sure you’d ever see him again. He’s dressed in white with accents of blue. His clothes are crisp and fitted perfectly.

“I thought you didn’t care for these.” He shrugs and looks around the room.

“I don’t, but I was hoping to find a familiar face.” Your breath catches in your throat as he reaches up and wipes chocolate from your lips. A half smile on his lips.

“I love chocolate too,” He says with an amused look.

“You know I never caught your name.” He remarks and you smile.

“You never asked.” You reply. Logan raises an eyebrow but chuckles at your response. The music dies down as the song comes to an end.

“Dance with me.” He holds out his hand but you shake your head.

“Oh I don’t dance Logan.”

“You can’t come to a ball and not dance love.” Your heart flutters at the pet name. It just sounds so sweet coming from him.

“The last time I danced I was a little girl standing on my fathers toes.” You admit shyly. Logan hums and tilts your chin up with his hand. The distance between the two of you closing in.

“Just trust me my love, I won’t let you fall.” He takes your hand and you follow him. He glances at the band and subtly nods his head. They start to play a new song as Logan positions your hands.

“Don’t look at anyone else but me.” He whispers in your ear.

You’re horribly nervous as the music starts. Just don’t step on his toes and you’ll be fine. Your feet move clumsily at first but with an encouraging smile from Logan you find your footing. The two of you glide across the ballroom. Capturing the attention of everyone in the room. You barely even noticed as you found yourself getting lost in his hazel eyes.

True to his word he never lets you fall. You don’t know how you’re dancing like this but you don't care. The two of you dance like you’ve been partners for years. Matching each other's movements effortlessly.

“You’re a natural my love.” He says with a grin.

“Only because I have you.” You say with a smile.

Happiness threatens to burst through your heart as the music comes to an end. Applause fills the room but you only pay attention to Logan. More couples join the dance floor as the music starts back up but you and Logan stay still in the middle of the dance floor.

“Prince James!” You hear a voice call. You pay no mind but Logan seems to tense.

“It’s far too crowded here, let's go somewhere quieter.” He takes your hand and guides you through the room. Weaving between people until you’re out of the grand ballroom.

“Logan, are we supposed to be here?” You ask worriedly.

“Don’t worry, trust me.” He says with a wink.

You admire the portraits and paintings on the wall. Logan brings you through the castle until you find yourself outside in the royal gardens. Colorful flowers fill the courtyard along with a marble fountain. You can’t help yourself as you admire every plant and flower.

Logan watched you with a smile on his face. You really are something special. But there's something he needs to confess. He wishes he didn’t have to but he cannot hide it any longer.

“My love, there’s something I need to tell you.” He says cautiously.

“Yes Logan?”

“I haven’t been completely honest with you about my identity. The truth is…” He trails off. Unsure of how to tell you.

“You’re the crowned Prince. Aren’t you?” There’s no anger in your voice. Only amusement. Logan’s jaw falls as he tries to gather his words.

“Did you know the moment we met?” He asks in disbelief. You shake your head, eyes turning back to the roses in the garden.

“I didn’t know until right now. Well a couple minutes ago. You led me through the castle without a second thought, you’re wearing the royal crest, and there are paintings of you and your family in every hall of the castle.” You explain with a giggle. Logan groans, of course you’d notice all of that.

“But most of all, you have your mothers eyes.” You reach up and cup his face, staring into those enchanting hazel eyes.

“Are you not angry with me for lying about my true identity?”

“No my prince, I understand why you did so. It must be so hard sometimes. So lonely.” He sighs and covers your hand with his.

“It can be yes, no siblings and a father who has shut you out since your mother passed.”

Logan’s life wasn't what all his subjects thought it to be. Perhaps when he was a child it was. His father was a cold man. Only caring about ruling his kingdom and nothing more. The only time he would talk to Logan was to berate him or remind him of his future responsibilities. No rough housing, no crying, no coddling. He will be the future king which means he must act like it.

It didn’t matter that he was only a child. His mother was much kinder. She stayed with him when he was sick or when he had a nightmare. She taught him everything he knows. Gardening, cooking, reading, dancing. All his mother. She would tell him stories of brave soldiers who slayed dragons and tales of prince’s meeting their princesses.

When she died, he was only a teenager. His father who was already a cold man grew even colder. His heart was frozen by the loss of his wife. Since then Logan had to become the model King his father wished him to be. Locked in the castle walls with no one. It didn’t take long for him to learn how to sneak out from under his fathers rule. He swore one day he’d leave and never look back. But that day never came.

The day his father got sick. He knows what’s coming. There’s no doctor in the world who can cure what his father has. It’s why his father planned the whole ball. Logan was to become King soon and he needed a wife. But this wasn’t how Logan wanted things to go. He doesn’t want to marry out of obligation. But despite being the prince, he’s utterly helpless.

“I’m so sorry, my prince.”

“Logan, please call me Logan.” He begs, he’s not your prince out here. Not when it’s just the two of you. You nod and he leads you through the gardens.

“Why Logan? We were told the Prince’s name was James.” You ask.

“James is my fathers name. But my mother gave me the name Logan. I prefer it to my given name.” Logan explains, his hand reaching down to pluck a white rose from one of the bushes. He carefully picks the thorns off the stem and holds it out to you.

“A pretty flower for a beautiful woman.” You bite your lip as he gently places the flower into your hair.

“Perfect.” He whispers. The falling vines shield you from the prying eyes of the walkway.

“Logan, aren’t you supposed to find a wife tonight?” You ask and his face hardens.

“My fathers idea. He wants me to be married for the good of the kingdom.” Logan huffs as he rolls his eyes.

“It doesn't matter what I wish for myself.”

“What do you wish for?” He looks at you with a look you can’t quite place. His hands cup your face and he brings himself closer to you.

“I want to marry for love, to find someone who cares for me and not just my title.”

“I see,” You squeak out. Your heart pounds in your chest as Logan edges ever closer. His gloved hands hold your face with such care. His lips just ghosting over yours.

“I believe I’ve found it.” He mumbles. Your eyes flutter closed as Logan closes the gap. You can barely feel his lips when the clock tower chimes through the courtyard. You gasp as you look at the time.

Midnight. You have to leave.

“Logan I, I’m sorry.” You turn and run as fast as you can. Through the garden back into the castle to the front doors.

“Wait, please don’t leave!” Logan calls after you. He’s running after you with all his might.

The carriage is waiting for you at the foot of the steps. You rush carelessly down the stairs. You feel your shoe fly off and you stop to grab it but Logan is close behind you. You can’t risk it. Before you can get into your carriage you hear him call for you again.

“Your name, I never got your name.” You turn back to see him on the steps.

He’s silently begging you not to leave. You almost tell him, almost. But reality has come crashing down on you. He’s the prince. He must marry someone important. Someone who can become queen one day. Someone who isn’t you.

“I’m sorry Logan.” You jump in the carriage and before Logan can do anything you’re off.

Logan bends down and picks up the glass shoe. He kicks himself for never asking your name. From the moment he saw you he felt a connection. You didn’t know who he was but you were so nice. Protecting that little girl without a second thought. Logan is normally a stoic man but you were easy to talk to. He wanted to talk to you.

The doors open as the guests start to file out. He feels a hand grab his arm and drag him back into the castle where his angry father awaits him.

“James! Where on earth did you go?! Do you know what a ruckuss you caused? Dancing with a mystery woman just to disappear for the rest of the night?!” His father yells but Logan could care less.

“She is my future wife. I know it. You wished for me to marry well I found a wife.”

“Well where is she?” His father asks. Logan looks down at the slipper and then back to his father.

“She ran. But I will find her. That’s a promise.” He says but his father just sighs. 

“Son. Why can’t you just pick someone else? Princess Jean from the Grey family of the neighboring kingdom is interested and your marriage would be great for both our kingdoms.” His father says like its a matter of fact. Knowing his father Logan wouldn’t be surprised if he had already agreed to the marriage without even speaking to him.

“Because I love her father!” Logan roars. He is sick of being controlled by his father. He will rule the kingdom. He will be king one day and he will do it his way.

“Love doesn’t matter! Look what love got you son. She left you. She’s gone.” His father shouts.

“How could you say that? Did mother mean nothing to you? Did you not love her?!” Logan challenges. His eyes burn with intensity as he marches right up to his father. Logan’s chest heaves as his father sinks into his throne.

“Your mother was the love of my life.” He starts.

“But she died. My love could not heal her and now she’s gone. Please, I am doing this for your own good.” King James pleads. For the first time in the last 20 years Logan saw a hint of vulnerability break through his fathers hard shell.

“I love her. It may end in heartbreak, she may not want me. But all I know is I love her. Give me one week to find her. That’s all I ask. One week and if I fail then I will marry Princess Jean.” Logan drops to his knees.

His one last desperate effort to appeal to his father. His mother would want him to marry for love and he’s found it. He can’t give up on it now.

“Deal. One week James.”

True to what Wade had said, everything turned back to normal. Your dress, the carriage, the horses, and the footman. The gooses waddled by your side as the mice sat inside of your glass shoe as you walked back to your house. That night was something out of your wildest dreams.

Dancing with the prince, with Logan. The smile wouldn’t leave your face. How could it? You hummed the song that was playing as you danced to yourself. It didn’t matter how much your feet hurt, you were happy. The glass slipper sparkled in the moonlight.

You’re glad you have something to remember the night by, to prove it wasn’t just a dream. After letting the mice free you ran back to your room, just as you heard the carriage pull up. Prying the loose floorboard up you place the shoe gently inside, a keepsake you’ll hold dear forever.

The next morning you went back to your old life, being treated like dirt once again but it was okay. For when you had the chance you would daydream of the night before. Your sisters would not stop talking about the ball. Angry that they never got to speak to the prince and that some mystery woman stole him away. They’ll never know that was you. That the prince had chosen you to spend his night with.

No matter how cruel your family was, how much work they gave you, you were still happy. News had traveled quickly that the prince was looking for the mystery girl, a single glass shoe his only way of finding her. Your step mother had alerted your sisters this morning. A week to find his true love, how romantic.

You tried to balance your feelings. Could he really find you all the way out here? Would he even look past the town? He didn’t even know your name. What if he saw the true nature of your life, that you were not the woman he thought you were? What if he thought you were a princess or a noblewoman? That day in the town you had spent a lot of coins. Would he want you as just a peasant maid girl?

”I expect the house to be spotless for the prince’s visit.” Your step mother demands.

Not a single speck of dirt is allowed. You worked tirelessly day and night. Even when your step sisters would spill something on purpose or tip over your water bucket, you managed to get it done. The prince was to travel to the outskirts of the town by mid afternoon. You were absolutely exhausted. You trudged up the stairs to your room. To your shock your step mother was sitting on your bed, your glass slipper dangling from her finger.

“Where did you find that?” Your voice quivering with fear. You hid that away, you only brought it out in the dead of night. How could she have found it?

“Do you think me a fool, my dear?” Her voice is cold, void of any emotion as she swings the slipper back and forth.

“Please don’t!” You reach forward but she pulls it back. Your steps falter, her stare grounding you to the spot you’re standing in.

“It’s fragile.” You whisper.

“You really are dreadful at keeping secrets. Humming a tune, swaying to the imaginary music when you think no one is looking. And this.” She holds out the slipper.

“The mystery girl at the ball had shoes made of crystal, my dear. I wonder just how fragile it really is.”

“Please, I don’t want anything from you. I've done the chores I’ve kept quiet…” Your step mother stands up and marches over to you. She leers down at you in utter discontent.

“Silence! You insolent girl. You have ruined everything! I knew I should have thrown you out the minute your father died. All he cared about was you, I was his wife but he gave you all his attention. Probably because he was still in love with that wretched woman.”

“Don’t talk about my mother like that! You know nothing of who she was. She was kind, strong and loving. Everything you aren’t!” You shout back.

Your step mothers faced into shock and then to anger. But you couldn’t stop, once the gates had been opened it’s all flooding out.

“Why are you so cruel to me? What could I possibly have done to you? I was a child! A child who had lost both her parents and you couldn’t find an ounce of sympathy. Not one.” You fall to your knees, years of built up emotions flooding out of you. You wince as your stepmother grabs your arm, her nails digging into your skin.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that.” She snarled.

“You are nothing but a worthless little girl and you will never be anything more than that. Do you understand me?” Her eyes are burning with rage. She tightens her grip on the heel of your slipper. Your eyes widen as you realize what she’s going to do.

“No!” You scream as she slams the slipper to the ground.

It shatters into pieces before your eyes. Scattering across your floor. You sob as you grab at the pieces you can still hold. You look up at your step mother with tearful eyes.

For a second, perhaps it is your imagination, you see a flicker of regret. But it disappears just as quickly as it came. The sound of horses comes rumbling in the distance. Your stepmother walks past you. The heel of the slipper is still in her hands.

“Make a sound and you’ll never step foot outside again.” She slams your door shut and you hear the click of the lock.

You cry and cry your heart out. Holding the broken pieces of crystal to your chest. The one happy moment in your heart has been shattered just like everything else. Why couldn’t they just let you be happy for once? You spent your whole life trying to live through kindness and you thought that maybe the world would show you a little too.

But it’s done the worst thing. It gave you a sliver of hope, a sliver of happiness and then it crushed it. Crushed it until there’s nothing left.

Maybe this is just the life you’re meant to have, perhaps the happiness wasn’t meant to be. Logan was too good to be true, he’ll find a new wife after this week. He’ll become King and forget all about you. Even when he’ll be all you dream about for the rest of your life.

You gently place the broken pieces on top of a piece of fabric, bundling them up and placing them under your bed. The tears have slowly stopped falling. You rest your arms on the window sill. A light breeze comes through to dry your tears. You stare at the castle in the distance.

Replaying the night over in your head in hopes that it brings you some peace. 

“Hello Prince James.” Logan stands at the door of the house. Your stepmother and stepsisters bow in his presence.

“These are my daughters Cassandra and Raven.” Logan nods as the two girls eye him shamelessly.

“Let's get this over with.” Logan mumbles to the guards who were standing beside him.

He’s searched through the whole kingdom. Today marks a week since that night of the ball. Today was his last chance to find you and he’s almost given up hope. The shoe hasn’t fit anyone, he knows if he sees you he won’t even need the shoe but it was a way to make sure in his fathers eyes.

“My aren’t you handsome.” Raven purrs, reaching out to touch his chest. He steps back and lets the guards step in front of him. Holding the shoe out to Raven. Raven sits down and holds out her foot. The guard tries to put the shoe on but it’s too small.

“Must have shrunk since last week.” Raven says with gritted teeth.

“It doesn’t fit Raven, now move over.” Cassandra pulls her sister out of the chair and sits down instead.

Gloating at the way Raven pouts. Once again the shoe is placed on Cassandra’s foot and once again it doesn’t fit. Logan holds back the urge to roll his eyes as Cassandra tries to fit her foot in through force.

“Thank you for your time.” He starts to leave but he’s stopped by your stepmother.

“Wait! My prince, I promise you the shoe belongs to one of my daughters.” She pulls the heel of the slipper out of her pocket. Logan’s eyes widen as he sees the familiar glass slipper.

“Where did you find this?” He demands.

“As I said before, it belongs to one of my daughters.” Logan doesn’t believe her for a second. He knows who he danced with and it wasn’t the two girls standing before him.

“My prince, listen!” One of the guards says. Your stepmother opens her mouth to protest but one look from Logan silences her. His ears strain to hear what the guard was talking about. There’s nothing but silence at first, but then he hears it. A soft hum of a familiar song. He knows that song, that’s the song he danced to at the ball.

“Where is she?” He growls, his polite front dropping in an instant.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There is no one else here.” Your stepmother tries to argue but Logan pushes past her.

Running up the stairs to the attic. Stopping every now and then to hear you sing. At the very top of the stairs sits an old wooden door. Without thinking he slams his shoulder into it. The wood shakes and creaks under his force.

“Logan?” You ask in disbelief, your voice muffled through the wall.

“Stand back!” Logan says before ramming his shoulder against the door again. It splinters with ease. You stare in shock as Logan stands before you.

“It’s you.” He says breathlessly, uncaring of the dust and grime that now stains his perfect suit.

“You found me.” You whisper.

“I haven't stopped looking for you since the ball.” Logan walks over to you, striding across the room in need. His arms wrapping around your waist pulling you close.

“I have fallen madly in love with you.” He confesses.

You reach up and wrap your hands in his hair, pulling him in for the kiss you didn’t get to have in the gardens. His hands squeeze your waist softly as he groans into the kiss. You’re both desperate and passionate. Trying to speak a thousand words with only your lips.

“Do I finally get to know your name?” He asks with amusement. A smile on his face as he cups your face. You laugh and tell him. He repeats you, your name rolling off his tongue with ease.

“What a perfect name.” He hums, his thumb brushing your cheek softly. Logan takes a step back and drops to one knee, pulling out a gorgeous ring from his pocket.

“Marry me my love.” He holds out the ring and you feel your heart jump.

“Of course I will.” You cry. He places the ring on your finger and spins you around. You laugh with pure joy as he pulls you in for another kiss.

“Your stepmother is an awful woman.” He mumbles, if he could he’d kick them out of his kingdom for treating you like this. Locking you away like a prisoner in your own home.

The two of you hand in hand head back downstairs. All eyes are on you as Logan leads you through your house. The house that was once filled with happy memories of your parents, now tainted by years of abuse and cruelty from your stepmother. Logan stands at your side, blocking their view of you as you walk out the door.

“Wait! Please you can’t just leave us. I won’t allow it!” Your stepmother hisses as she follows you out the door.

The guards step forward but you call them off. Logan looks at you, silently asking if you’re sure and you nod. Reluctantly he lets go of your hand, letting you walk up to your step mother. You hold your head high, a feeling of complete freedom.

“You don’t control me anymore.” You stand tall, watching as your stepmother's face morphs through different emotions. Your whole body is shaking. But she can’t hurt you anymore, she doesn’t get to destroy your life. Logan laces his hand with yours and gently pulls you back to the royal carriage.

“Are you alright?” Logan asks as he sees the tears in your eyes. He reaches up and brushes the stray tears away.

“Yes Logan, I’m perfect.” 

In an instant your life changed. Your wedding was a grand affair. The whole town was thrilled to have a new princess and the celebration was amazing. Logan was a model prince, using his power and status to help the town orphanage so that all the children could live happy and comfortable lives. He wasn’t afraid to roll up his sleeves and work to help his kingdom.

After years of being locked away he was discovering what it meant to be free just like you were. The two of you were beloved. Praised for being kind, fair, and happy rulers. You spread kindness through everything the two of you did together. He’s everything to you and you are his whole world.

The view of the kingdom from your bedroom window was nothing short of breathtaking. You place birdseed on the window sill and a few birds fly up to the castle window. They chirp happily and you watch them with a smile on your face.

“What are you thinking about my love?” Logan asks as he wraps his arms around you from behind. His chin resting on your shoulder.

You look back at his handsome face, seeing the man you love with nothing but content on his face. He brought the light back into your life and it shines brighter than ever before. Then you look back at the kingdom, your kingdom. For once your heart does not ache watching from the window. Now you feel only love and peace.

“Nothing my prince, I’m just happy.” 

[yawnderu]

Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part II

1 2 3 4 5 6

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

"Can I hold her?" You dread the question. The way he asks it, the way he looks at you, the way you know he's going out of his comfort zone to come to your house, knowing you don't want him there.

"Sure." You put your pride aside, having the best interest of your baby in mind. The little girl is placed carefully in his arms, and it breaks your heart to see just how well she fits there, like a missing puzzle piece.

"She's so beautiful." He whispers, brown eyes fully focused on his daughter—his daughter. For someone who avoided the topic of family like the plague, the concept was still weird to even think about, despite the way the girl in his arms looked just like him when he was a baby, countless pictures hung around his house before they were permanently destroyed by his father in attempts to torment Mrs. Riley.

"What was that, Captain?" Simon crooned teasingly, leaning his head closer to the baby to try to understand the babbles that were slowly becoming more and more clear each passing week. Of course, she was still too young to talk, though the little girl loved babbling out at any given moment.

"She's lovely, isn't she? Shame she looks like you." Your words came out teasing for the first time ever since you saw him again, the banter in your previous friendship coming back for a second as he playfully glared down at you.

"Shame she acts like me too." He jested, the baby's mannerisms very reminiscent of his own. You poke your tongue out at him jokingly before looking back down at your daughter, the strings of your heart being pulled the more you stare at her. The little creature doesn't cry much, luckily, so you have all the time in the world to simply admire what you created— what you both created.

"Look at her tongue stickin' out." Simon pointed out to the baby's tiny tongue sticking out, a quiet laugh leaving his lips at the way she imitated you. You gently pinch her chubby cheek, planting a kiss on her forehead as a small laugh escapes you too. It's not hard for her to steal your heart, Simon noticed.

"Hush, darlin', daddy's busy flirtin' with mommy." He knows he's overstepping, but... it's worth the risk. He wants what you used to have back then, despite knowing he doesn't deserve it. He'll prove himself, Simon promised since the first time he saw you again.

"Just so you know, this—" You point between him, the baby, and you. "Doesn't mean we're together. Not a chance." You try to be stern, though you both can't deny the look in your eyes. Still, you resist, not wanting to be disappointed again. Simon leaving is an open wound that never healed.

"I know." He replied after a few seconds, not looking at you. His eyes were focused on the baby, holding her close to his chest as she cuddled up to him, quieting down from her babbling. He sat down on the couch, one of his fingers absent-mindedly running over the features of his daughter.

"I'm thinkin' of retiring within a year or two, once Makarov's dead." He starts hesitantly, not daring to look at you just yet.

"Do you think the three of us can be a family? I know I messed up, and I'm sorry." He finally looks up at you, though only for a short second before he's getting up again, gently putting the baby in her crib. He gives her a small plushie to cuddle, soft blanket wrapped over her tiny frame. He comes back to you, bare hands hesitantly reaching for yours before noticing you're about to recoil back. He doesn't blame you.

"I'll do anything." He swears, taking a step back to respect your personal space. You look away for a few seconds, arms crossed and a small frown on your lips. The thought of Simon leaving or dying is always there, eating at the back of your mind.

"You're retiring?" Is all you can ask, not bothering to hide the sheer curiosity and confusion. Simon has been a soldier since he was 18— it's all he knows. He has given up his entire life and family— why stop now?

"Yeah. Think it's time to slow down... actually live life a little, for once. I had to retire at some point, yeah?" It wasn't an easy choice at all. He has bled for the army countless times, lost his family because of it, lost so many allies he can't even count them in his head, yet the tiny girl was the one that made him realize enough is enough.

"Interesting." It's all you reply, eyes slightly narrowed as you look deep into his, seeking for any signs of hesitation or lying. You find none.

"I'm serious. I can be a father to her, and... a husband to you, if you let me. Just like you wanted." Just like you told him you wanted things to be. Just like he thought about before breaking up with you after 4 years.

"Don't have to give me an answer now, but I'm retirin' and that's final." He went to grab his backpack, pulling out a folder. He placed it in front of you gently before giving his sleeping daughter a soft kiss on the forehead, eyes fully focused on her as he memorized her features. It's gonna be a long time until he sees her again.

"I'm deploying in an hour." He mentioned, his back turned towards you as you read the papers. His will, updated to include your daughter. Previously, it was only you there.

"Not comin' back for a long while, unless things go well. If shit hits the fan..." He knows it's always a possibility when dealing with Makarov.

"You'll both have enough to live a good life." He was getting choked up. Not crying or tearing up, but uncomfortable enough that he was struggling to speak.

"Simon." You call out and he turns his head towards you, slight surprise in his features. It's the first time you call him Simon since he came back into your life— it used to be Ghost, much to his dismay, to place even more space between you. He never said anything about it.

"Something to keep your heart safe." You walk up to him, both of your hands holding one of his, placing a hard object in his palm. He looks down at it and his heart almost stops.

The ID bracelet your baby wore shortly after she was born. He nods his head once in acknowledgment, expression growing more determined as his fingers trace the outline of the plastic.

"Come back to her safe." Your hand hesitantly went to the back of his neck, pulling him closer until his forehead was against yours. He lets you, and you're both stuck looking deep into each other's eyes for what feels like forever.

"Come back to us." You plant a soft kiss to his forehead before letting go, basking in the slight sense of normalcy, ignoring your worthless pride for once. He leans down and returns the kiss to your forehead, nodding once. He stares down at you, memorizing your features the same way he did with your daughter before turning around and leaving, swearing to keep the silent promise with a newfound sense of determination.

[Previous] [Next]

Taglist:

@skulfan1 @survivalshxt @ghostslittlegf

[revelboo]

Could you do more of your story for TFP Sound wave? He is my favorite iteration of him and your writing is so good. I love your blog

Sure!

Bad Idea Pt 8

TFP Soundwave x Reader

• Ignoring Lazerbeak’s annoyance sitting at the back of his processor like a dark cloud, he turns his attention away from his screens to the small form enshrouded in a nest of blankets on his desk caged between his arms and uses a tendril to adjust one of your blankets, letting the graspers on the end linger against your neck so your emotions spark intoxicatingly through him. Reassuring him that all’s well as he watches over you and helping drown out the mental distress he can feel from the other end of the ship from Megatron’s little pet and the human that Shockwave has taken for reasons he’s trying very hard not to think about. It shouldn’t matter to him one way or the other, but after you? There’s a vague sense of guilt for those others even knowing there’s nothing he can do for them. You he can protect, though. And he will.

• Sleepily peering up at him as he works, he somehow knows the second you’re awake, head tipping down to stare at you as one of his tendrils slides against, then coils about your ankle to make you smile. For being a giant, spiky horror, he’s surprisingly sweet and clingy. “Anything exciting?” You ask, and his head tilts before lifting back to the bank of screens and then down to you in what you guess is a ‘no.’ From what you’ve seen of the feeds throughout the Nemesis, it’s normally pretty boring unless his big, even scarier boss is on a rampage.

• Your little head tilts up to watch the screens with him and he wonders if you’re trying to help or just bored. Running his graspers through your hair, he likes to think you enjoy his company, like to be with him. Remembering that you’re there waiting for him makes his tasks a bit more tolerable, even if leaving you unsupervised makes him uneasy. Old worries like raw wounds still hurting him even though he tries to bury them. Tries to forget and move on. You’re just so fragile.

• The steady slide of those graspers through your hair is almost hypnotic, every bit of tension easing under his attention. You’re never quite sure what’s going on in that pointy head of his, but his actions? Always trying to take care of you, worrying. It’s a pity he’s not a human guy, because you’d grab on and refuse to let go. He’s not human and you already feel that way as silly it is. It’s likely some weird combination of Stockholm’s and stress, but you enjoy being around him. Love how affectionate he is. Venting softly, one of his graspers slides over the shell of your ear, before he just curls the tendril about you, gently squeezing to make you laugh.

• Lowering his head when you tip your own up to look at him, he very carefully bumps his helm to your forehead, spark warming as you reach up to lay a soft palm on him. His affectionate, little songbird. The quick brush of your soft mouth against him sparks electric through him, freezing him in place, before you duck your head. Hiding how red your face now is from him.

Previous

Next

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — see ya !

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ᯓ★

pairings﹕ nagi seishiro x gn!reader

contents﹕ one shot, fluff, wc: 937, proofread

nagi seishiro was the type of person who could make anything feel effortless. his lazy smiles, his slow, deliberate movements, the way he could win a match or beat a game without breaking a sweat - it all came naturally to him. and somehow, so did your friendship.

he wasn’t supposed to be your type, if you even had one. but somewhere between late-night gaming sessions and quiet walks home, you’d fallen for him.

hard.

the problem was, nagi didn’t get it.

“hey,” he said one day, leaning over your desk with that continuous bored expression. his white hair fell into his eyes, and your heart did its usual annoying flip. “you free later? wanna come over?”

you sighed, pretending to focus on your notebook. “what's the plan?”

“dunno. just thought it’d be nice.”

you glanced up at him, your chest tightening at the casualness of his tone. he always said things like that, as if they didn’t carry the weight you attached to them.

“sure,” you mumbled, trying to sound unaffected.

“cool.” he reached out and flicked your forehead lightly before walking off.

being at nagi's place was second nature to you by now. his room was your room, his snacks your snacks. and yet, there was always an underlying tension in the air, at least for you.

he flopped onto his bed, grabbing his phone as you sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through a random playlist.

“hey, play that one,” he said, pointing lazily at c u girl by steve lacy.

you rolled your eyes but hit play. the dreamy guitar riff filled the room, and nagi let out a contented hum, his eyes closing as the music washed over him.

“good song,” he murmured.

“yeah,” you said softly, watching him.

the lyrics felt too close to home, too raw. “i wanna see you girl, i wanna please you girl…”

you bit your lip and looked away, trying to ignore the way your chest ached.

with, the lines of friendship had always been blurry. he held your hand sometimes, but only when he was bored. he's rest his head on your shoulder during long train rides, but he’d never call it anything more than convenience.

and then there were the late-night texts.

sei <3: r u awake?

you: cant sleep

sei <3: can i come ovr?

you always said yes.

one night, after a marathon gaming session, you ended up lying next to him on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“hey,” he said suddenly, his voice soft.

“yeah?”

“why do you put up with me?”

the question caught you off guard. you turned your head to look at him.

“what do you mean?”

“'m not easy to deal with.”

you frowned. “that's not true.”

he hummed in response, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

“sometimes i think about it,” he admitted after a pause. “why you’re always here. why it feels weird when you’re not.”

your breath hitched.

“what do you mean by weird?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

he turned his head to face you, his white hair messy against the pillow. his gaze was steady yet hard to read, and for a moment, you thought he might finally understand.

but then he sighed and looked away. “never mind. forget i said anything.”

it all came to a head one rainy afternoon.

you were walking home together, sharing an umbrella that was barely big enough for one person. nagi's shoulder pressed against yours, his presence warm despite the chill in the air.

“why don’t you ever date anyone?” he asked suddenly, his tone as casual as if he were asking about the weather.

your steps faltered, but you forced yourself to keep walking. “what's that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “you're cool. people like you.”

you laughed bitterly. “what, like you do?”

he stopped walking, his eyes narrowing slightly. “what's that supposed to mean?”

you turned to face him, your heart pounding. “sei, we do things best friends don’t do. you know that, right? you hold my hand, you visit me midnight, you-”

“what's wrong with that?” he interrupted, his voice calm but edged with confusion.

“everything,” you snapped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “because i'm in love with you, and you don’t even realize it!”

the rain fell harder, soaking through your jacket as the words hung in the air. nagi stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“i…” he trailed off, his mouth opening and closing like he was searching for the right words.

“forget it,” you muttered, stepping out from under the umbrella. “just forget i said anything.”

“wait,” he called, grabbing your wrist.

you turned to look at him, your eyes stinging; not from the rain, but from the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.

“'m not good at this stuff,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “but i think about you all the time. i just didn’t know what it meant.”

your breath hitched. “sei…”

he looked away, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly. “i don’t wanna lose you. i don’t know how to do this, but i want to try. if you’ll let me.”

for a moment, all you could hear was the rain. then, slowly, you nodded.

“okay,” you said softly.

a faint smile tugged at his lips, and for the first time, you saw something vulnerable in his usually aloof expression.

as he pulled you back under the umbrella, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you were finally on the same page.

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[gh0stly-mp3]

words aren’t always necessary

rin itoshi x gn!reader

synopsis: suddlently one day rin starts acting weird towards you, well, weirder than normal

tags: unspoken confession, rin is really trying, emotional affimation, kinda fluff, introverted rin x gentle reader

warnings: coldness, trust issues

a/n: requests are open! pls look here before sending a request :) enjoy!

Rin Itoshi was far from being an open book. Most people around him knew his coldness, his indifference. But in the past few days, something about him had changed. Something that made his heart beat faster than usual, something he preferred not to understand, and definitely didn’t want to show anyone, especially you.

You, the one who always stood by him without demanding anything, without trying to force him to open up. Your presence was like a constant in his otherwise controlled world, but it was also something he wasn’t sure how to handle. It left him uneasy, though he refused to admit it.

The training field was quiet, only the sound of distant kicks breaking the silence. The two of you were alone — Rin had made sure of that. He never liked distractions. Still, today, he felt strangely... restless.

He kept his distance, as usual, his sharp gaze cold, but something about the way his fingers drummed against the side of his leg suggested impatience. His body was tense. He didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge you directly, but you knew something was off.

You took a few steps toward him. Rin didn’t move or acknowledge you immediately. He rarely did, but you knew he was aware of your presence.

"You’re acting strange today, Rin". - You said, your tone gentle. You weren’t pushing, just stating an observation. He was too silent, too on edge, more than usual.

Rin let out a small sigh, as if your words were a mild inconvenience, but his gaze shifted toward you for a brief moment, almost as if he was considering whether to respond.

"I’m not in the mood to talk." - His voice was flat, colder than usual, but you could hear a slight tremor in the last few words.

You didn’t flinch. You were used to him. To his walls, his coldness. You knew it wasn’t anger —just Rin, the way he always was. But still, something about today felt different.

"Is there something you want to say?" - You asked again, your voice calm and steady, trying not to pressure him, just letting him know you were there.

Rin’s eyes darkened a little, his lips pressing into a thin line. He didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to let anyone in. Not after everything with his brother... But right now, with you standing there, not judging, he almost felt like he could.

"Trust is... hard, okay?" - Rin muttered, looking at the ground for a moment, the words barely audible. - "I don’t trust anyone, especially not myself."

You tilted your head slightly, stepping a bit closer, but still giving him space. You understood, Rin’s relationship with his brother had torn apart the foundation of what it meant to trust, to believe.

"And me?" - You asked quietly, eyes searching his face for any sign of what he was really feeling.

Rin looked at you, the coldness still there, but his eyes flickered with something different for just a second. His fingers tightened around the ball he was holding. It was clear he was struggling, trying to suppress the emotions he didn’t know how to deal with.

"I... don’t know." - He finally admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them. It wasn’t a confession, not really. It was more of a reluctant admission, but it still hung in the air between you two.

There was silence. Rin’s usual mask was almost gone, but it was quickly replaced by a distant, calculating look. He couldn’t afford to be vulnerable for long.

You didn’t push him further, just looked at him for a moment. Then, without warning, you reached out and placed your hand on his arm. A simple touch, but it was enough. You weren’t asking for answers; you were just offering your presence.

Rin froze, his gaze snapping to your hand, his body tense. But for once, he didn’t pull away. He didn’t know how to respond, but he didn’t want to run from it either.

"I’m not asking for anything, Rin." - You said softly. - "I’m here, and I trust you."

Rin stared at you for a long time. His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something more, but the words wouldn’t come. In the end, all he could manage was a barely perceptible nod, his cold demeanor returning like a shield.

"Tch. Fine." - He muttered, his usual detached tone back in place, but there was something in the way his fingers lingered on yours for just a moment longer that told you more than words ever could.

It wasn’t the grandest confession, nor the most romantic. But it was Rin’s way of letting you in, even if he didn’t fully understand it himself yet. For him, it was a step. A cold, hesitant one, but a step nonetheless.

And you, in silence, just stayed by his side. Because sometimes, words aren’t necessary.

[criminalyun]

cool for the summer (part two) | sim jaeyun

pairing: sim jaeyun x fem!oc

summery: summers over and if you thought hiding your relationship from your brother with jake when you were all together was hard, then you were in for a surprise when you’re forced to do long distance and not only have to stay up late hours in the night to talk, so that jay wouldn't suspect anything, but also have to question if your boyfriend even loves you.

genre: brothers best friend au, forbidden love, long distance, fluff, angst, smut.

warnings: minors dni!! virgin reader who overthinks a lot!

cw: violence, alcohol use, softdom!jake, sub!reader, piv, fingering, oral (f. rec), making out, pet names (pretty, pretty girl), foreplay, more to be added

word count: estimated 10-15k

release date: june 23rd, 2024

taglist: open !

read part one here

PREVIEW!

There he stood, Jake Sim, your boyfriend, looking as attractive as ever with his dark, messy locks of hair sitting effortlessly on his head, and his skin looking tanned and sun-kissed, and his usual brown eyes that now looked black with lust staring down at you with his plump, red lip tucked between his teeth.

He was clad in a pair of grey joggers and a black zip up jacket which had white writing written across the chest in cursive; the jacket loosely hanging off of him with his prominent collarbone peeking through the neckline.

You couldn't help but gulp at the sight of him, and it was like you were stuck in a trance as you subconsciously took a few steps backwards, allowing your brothers best friend into your room...

Quicker than ever, once your door had been shut tight — Jake pulling the lock across as he shut it with his hand, his eyes not leaving you once - you two dove into one another, your lips hungrily interlocking as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down closer to you whilst his arms snaked around your waist, colliding your bodies as he walked you into the wall; your back pressing against the white painted brick.

"I missed you.." Jake managed to get out, parting your lips for a moment so that you could catch your breaths. "So much, y/n, you don't even understand." He shook his head, desperation seeping through his eyes as they eyed your lips.

“I missed you so much more." You spoke back to him, only earning a shake of Jake's head before he hurriedly attached his lips to your neck, sucking and biting at places that had never been touched before.

The sensation of his lips against your neck made a weird — pleasurable — feeling appear in your stomach and you slowly fluttered your eyes closed, biting down on your lip to prevent the sounds that were threading to escape from spilling.

"Not possible..." He whispered, grazing his mouth across your earlobe, goosebumps immediately forming on your skin as you accidentally let the sound — the moan — escape from your swollen lips.

Your sounds only caused the smirk on Jake's face to widen even more and he pulled back to look down at you, licking his lips as he brought his thumb up to caress your bottom lip.

"Be quiet, pretty, you don't wanna wake Jay up, huh?" He mischievously spoke, his voice just above a whisper as he teasingly played with your bottom lip, the certain area in his pants hardening as he watched as your eyes glossed over with submission.

Without another thought, the Sim boy quickly released your lip from his touch and hooked his arms beneath your legs, lifting you from the floor and heading over to your bed as he attached his lips to your exposed collarbone.

Once Jake was sat on the edge of your bed, you still being on his lap, he looked up at you in awe, reaching up to move a few strands of your hair away from your beautiful face and tucking them behind your ear as you unthinkingly ground your crotch into his; the weird, euphoric feeling making your stomach churn.

"Y/n.." Jake grunted out, a small whine lacing his voice as he squinted his eyes shut in pleasure. He quickly raised his hands, gently gripping onto your hips (afraid he'd break you if he held too hard) to halt your actions. "We don't have to go all the way, if you don't want to... I don't want to force you...

Immediately, you shook your head, denying the boy as your breathing became heavier and your body became needier.

You wanted him like there was no tomorrow...

COMING SUNDAY JUNE 23, 2024 !!

 criminalyun 2024