#the guy’s whipped i tell ya
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whytheylosttheirminds · 3 months ago
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home for the holidays (part one) - r.c.
❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️
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summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…
content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni
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Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!
You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie
Brodyyy <3: i’m glad to hear ya say that…bc i have one more favor to ask
You: what’s up?
Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?
You: does he live near us?
Brodyyy <3: he’s from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my mom’s car, so no extra driving for you!
You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!
You: as long as i’m home before 6pm on the 21st i’m good
Brodyyy <3: cookie day?
You: exactly, u get me
Brodyyy <3: dw we’ll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!
You: np!
You: what’s his name btw?
Brodyyy <3: …
You: *questioned* “what’s his name btw?”
Brodyyy <3: rafe
You: be so fr rn
You: as in cameron???
You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??
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Hour one
You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, you’d never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.
“Brody, I swear to god,” you mumbled under your breath, “five more minutes and I’m leaving your ass.”
Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.
“Hey wait up!” a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.
Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus. 
It wasn’t a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.
“I’m Rafe,” he interjected when you didn’t greet him.
“I know,” you said dryly.
“My reputation precedes me?” He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.
“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. “Where’s Brody?”
Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though he’d barely said two words to you. 
Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him. 
“He’s not coming,” Rafe informed you. “Didn’t he tell you?”
“No, he didn’t,” you huffed, “Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but he’s gotta stay on campus to do it,” he explained.
“He could’ve told me,” you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. “I’m gonna have to adjust the schedule.”
“The schedule?” He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.
It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip. 
“I need to be home by six at the latest, it’s nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eight…” you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.
“Sorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,” he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. “You don’t think this all just happens naturally do you?” He gestured to his face.
You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear he’d just woken up. 
But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.
“I wasn’t waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,” you shut him down. “And since he’s apparently not coming, I’m gonna hit the road,” you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driver’s side door.
You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.
“Woah, woah, wait,” he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.
You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, ��uhm excuse me!”
“You’re excused,” he smirked down at you. “How am I gonna get home?”
“Greyhound station is that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.
“I’d rather ride with you,” he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.
“Dude, can you just let me into my car?” You shut him down.
“What’s the magic word?” God, did this guy have a punchable face.
“Please,” you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.
“Hmm, no,” he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.
“Okay seriously? I know you’re used to using your body to get what you want, but it’s not gonna work this time,” you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. “Get away from my car.”
“I will when you agree to give me a ride,” his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, “or we can keep standing here and talking about my body.”
You couldn’t help but blush, and he couldn’t help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.
“Why would I do that? I don’t even know you,” it wasn’t entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.
“Brody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,” he suggested.
“If he wanted to cash in on his favor, he should’ve been here himself.”
“Okay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? I’ll cover the whole trip,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card. 
You couldn’t help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy? 
“Brody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. I’m going west and there’s no way I’m getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?” You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes. 
Time to bring it home, he thought.
“I’ll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and I’ll be fine. I’ll be eternally grateful, I’ll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.”
“The more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,” you said. 
Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadn’t missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.
“Please? All flights are sold out and I’d really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,” he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.
Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.
With a deep sigh, you finally said, “fine.” 
Rafe slapped his hand on the car’s roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.
“I’ll get you to the ferry and that’s it,” you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. “I need to be home by six, if I’m late you’re gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.”
He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, “scout’s honor!”
“You can throw your stuff in the backseat,” you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.
“What, you got too much junk in your trunk?” He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passenger’s side.
You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driver’s seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.
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Hour two
The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.
Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.
“Sorry about the rattling,” you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. “She’s a good car, but she’s got creaky bones.”
“It’s cool,” he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.
“I’m sure the G-wagons you’re used to don’t shake when you accelerate.”
Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.
“You don’t like me,” he surmised simply.
Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, “I- I barely know you.”
“Then why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?”
“Maybe I just don’t like what you have to say.”
His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, “nah, I think it’s something else. Did we have a class together or something?”
“No, just a couple mutual friends,” you smiled the fakest of smiles.
“Yeah? Like who?”
“Girls you’ve ghosted mainly,” you said.
“Whaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smirked.
“Yeah right,” you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. “You know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never done that,” he said.
“That’s such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.” 
“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.
You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.
You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.
“Oh, c’mon, lighten up,” he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat. 
He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you. 
“It’s college, it’s not that serious. Everybody’s hooking up and breaking up. I mean, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of flings,” his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.
You stumbled over your response. You weren’t necessarily a shy person, but you didn’t walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does. 
“I…can you stop looking at me like that please?”
“Looking at you like what?” He grinned, feigning innocence.
“Like you know me at all.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded. “Though I think I’ve pretty much figured you out.”
“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.
“Yeah, I mean, I have my guesses at least…”
“Please, share with the class,” you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.
“You were top of your class in high school, graduating with a…3.97 GPA,” he began. “You got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents I’m sure. College isn’t as easy as high school, but you’ve settled around an A minus average final grade. You’re not in a sorority, I would’ve seen you at a mixer, but you’re definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, that’s not practical enough, it’s gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said you’re what, pre-med? So you’re probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet you’ve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but you’re too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?”
Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.
“My high school GPA was 3.98 actually,” you said weakly. “And I don’t like this game.”
Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.
“Don’t worry, I’m done playing,” he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. “Wake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?”
“No promises,” you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.
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Hour three
Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.
Rafe snored. Loudly.
You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.
Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.
“We’re not moving,” he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.
“You have great observational skills,” you teased him.
“You didn’t think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?” He said smugly.
“I did,” you defended yourself, “just not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isn’t usually so packed.”
Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.
“So what’s happening at six o’clock?” He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Before we left, you said you had to be home at six. What’s at six?” 
“Oh, uh, it’s kind of silly actually, you wouldn’t get it,” you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasn’t moving anytime soon.
“Try me,” he said.
You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.
“It’s because of cookies,” you admitted.
“Cookies?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.
“My mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. They’re so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. It’s an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isn’t supposed to give it to me until she’s…gone…”
You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafe’s eyes on you, you pushed them back down. 
“…anyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, they’ll attack those cookies and there won’t be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or I’ll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.”
You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.
Finally he landed on, “gingerbread, really? They can’t possibly be that good.”
“Oh no, believe me they really are. I’m not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
Rafe’s eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre. 
“Oh shut up,” you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.
“I didn’t say anything!” He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm you’d hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting. 
“You question the cookies and then you mock me,” you shook your head. “I should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.”
“No, no!” He chuckled. “I would never question the cookies. I’m sure they’re delicious. Don’t make me walk.”
You zeroed your eyes in on him, “fine. You're safe. For now.”
He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent ‘phew!’
After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.
“Why can’t you mom just make more cookies?” He blurted out.
Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldn’t head in.
“She, uh…she just makes the one batch,” you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.
“I mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -”
“She just can’t, okay?” You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than you’d intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, “sorry. She just…she can only make one.”
Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.
“Alright then, take the next exit,” he said.
“What?”
“In a half mile on the right, take that exit,” he repeated.
“Why?” you asked.
“I found a faster route,” he explained. “Let’s get you those cookies.”
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Hour four
Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.
With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.
It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you weren’t the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes. 
“In one hundred and twenty two miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and twenty miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and nineteen miles-“
“Veer left! It’s gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really don’t need to keep refreshing it,” Rafe grunted.
You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket. 
“Remind me why you couldn’t just drive yourself?” You snarled. “What, is the Beamer in the shop?”
“It’s a Range Rover, actually,” he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled ‘of course it is.’ “And yes, actually, it is.”
“Ah, you pimping your ride?”
He snorted, “what is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.”
“I knew I shouldn’t let you drive,” you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.
“Relax, it wasn’t my fault,” he assured you.
“Let me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?” 
“There was no other driver,” he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. “Glad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.”
You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldn’t see the way you were blushing.
“Okay so what’s the story then?” You asked.
“It’s really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, that’s it,” he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone he’d adopted.
“You saw ‘something?’ What ‘something’ did you see?” You pressed, amused by his discomfort.
“Just, uhm, an animal in the road,” he said dismissively.
You nodded, a little “ah” leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.
“What kind of animal was -”
“Ohhh my god, you’re so nosy, it was-“ he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, “it was a bunny alright?”
Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image he’d conjured for you.
“Alright, it’s not that funny but whatever,” he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles. 
“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “it’s not funny. It’s nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, it’s very cute.”
Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?
Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, she’s just some girl.
“So you and Brody, y’all sleeping together or...?”
Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.
Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.
“Is that a yes?” he continued. 
“Not that it’s any of your business,” you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, “but no, we’re just old friends.”
Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a penny…
“But, c’mon, you’re saying you two have seriously never…”
“Ew no, he’s literally like my brother,” you shut him down. “Why do you care so much? You jealous?”
Fuck, he hadn’t meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field. 
“You just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasn’t coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all that…”
“Have you considered it’s because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?”
Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway. 
Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didn’t give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.
His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun. 
“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.
Rafe’s eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that he’d been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail. 
“Fuck!” 
He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.
Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.
“Shit, my bad,” Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.
He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.
“This is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!” You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.
“I said I’m sorry! Jesus calm down, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.
“No of course not, you never do anything on purpose,” you quipped.
It took everything in him not to snap back with a “you don’t even fucking know me,” but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.
“We’re gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,” you said.
Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, “no can do, there’s no stops on the schedule for an hour.”
“Okay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,” you argued.
“So was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didn’t stop then,” he countered.
“Right, because those things are comparable,” you scoffed. “It’s not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.”
You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.
“Well I’m the driver and I say we’re sticking to the schedule,” he doubled down.
“So I’m just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?”
“I have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,” he offered.
The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafe’s bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said “Kildare Academy Lacrosse” and on the back “Cameron #44.”
You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.
“Uh, a little privacy please?” 
His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, “I just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,” he claimed.
You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.
Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.
The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didn’t care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. You’d tease him for that later.
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Hour five
Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap you’d mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.
Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.
“That’ll be $2.79, dear,” the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.
With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.
“Sorry sweetheart, there’s a five dollar minimum for cards,” she informed you politely.
“Oh, okay,” you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.
----❄----
The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.
“How much was it?” You asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life. 
You shouldn’t feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.
“Here,” you passed him the bag of trinkets you’d bought inside.
Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.
“What am I supposed to do with these?” He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.
“You could…give them to your sisters,” you suggested.
“What are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says ‘Virginia is for Lovers’?”
“Well it’s better than a slip of paper that says ‘IOU one christmas present,’” You teased him.
“Y’know what? Very true,” he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station. 
The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookies…
“What are you smiling about?” Rafe’s voice interrupted your revelry.
“I’m just excited to get home and see my family,” you said with a happy smile. “Aren’t you?”
It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so you’d give him a ride. He couldn’t tell you the truth; that he wasn’t sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love. 
“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, hoping you’d drop it. 
You didn’t.
“Does your family have any traditions?” 
“Like what?” He knew what you meant, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.
“Like, okay,” you started. “Me and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.” 
“How’s he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?” Rafe questioned logically.
“Oh Rafe, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this…but Santa isn’t real,” you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him. 
He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, “you know what I meant!” he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.
“What else do you do?” He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.
“Well, you know about my mom’s cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- I’m sure they’ve already gotten it this year since I wasn’t home- but we’d always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.”
It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldn’t see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.
“Didn’t Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?” He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.
Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble. 
“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. “Not a Christmas guy, huh?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be napping right now?” He brushed off your question.
“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t drive so grumpy.”
“I’ll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.”
“Okay fine, but don’t forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,” you reminded him.
“I know, I know. Are you always this bossy?” He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish you’d never opened up to him about your family to begin with.
With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat. 
“Bah humbug,” you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.
Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 
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Hour six
In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dad’s Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread left…
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Hour seven
The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.
And Rafe was out cold in the driver’s seat.
“Oh my god!!” 
You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engine’s rumble shaking the dash. The car was off. 
You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You weren’t driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.
“Oh my god,” you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.
Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.
“Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.
You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard. 
“Oww, what the hell?” He sat up, rubbing his arm.
“Where the fuck are we?” You barked at him.
“We’re in your car on the way home,” he avoided the true answer. 
“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”
“And would ya look at that? You did!” He smiled sheepishly.
With scarily accurate comedic timing, the ship’s horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.
“Rafe, we’re on the ferry!” You yelled, smacking him again.
“Would you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured we’d just hop the ferry real quick and you’ll still make it home by six.”
You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.
“Just barely! At this rate I’ll be walking in the door at 5:58,” you argued.
“And just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,” he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the “I Hate Rafe Cameron” club.
“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.
“Okay, well can it wait until we’re on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.”
He wasn’t letting up on the flirting, and you weren’t giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.
----❄----
“It’s just up here on the right, that metal gate,” he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.
Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.
“What is it?” He questioned.
“I knew you were probably rich, y’know based on your whole��” you gestured vaguely to him, “...thing. But holy shit.”
He grinned, “yeah it’s alright I guess.”
“Oh whatever,” you laughed. “It’s like a fucking castle!”
With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafe’s face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.
“Home sweet home,” he said, feigning holiday cheer.
He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.
“I should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,” you said.
“Nah you can give it back to me at school, I’ve delayed your schedule long enough.”
You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.
It was strange, you felt like you’d known him much longer than eight hours and yet you weren’t quite friends…you weren’t enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.
“Well,” you shrugged, smiling back, “Merry Christmas I guess?”
He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, “yeah, Merry Christmas I guess.”
With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasn’t too much traffic, you’d get home with about five minutes to spare.
You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldn’t help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.
Only, he wasn’t going inside. Or maybe he couldn’t go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasn’t right.
Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didn’t notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudly…
“The Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I can’t believe you guys just left without me...well I wasn’t and then I got a ride…this could’ve been avoided if you’d just sent the jet like I asked…since when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!” 
The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldn’t make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.
“Y-yes sir…I’m sorry…yes sir…no sir…okay I will…I lo-”
The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.
“You should get going,” he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. “You’re gonna miss your cookies.”
Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, “did they…are they not home?”
“Nah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,” he explained.
“Oh. So you’re just gonna be here, like, alone?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?” He gave you a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Are-are you sure? You could…” You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldn’t bring him home for Christmas. 
The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.
“I’m really fine,” he said, nodding his head toward the road, “you should get back on the road. You’ve got a schedule to keep”
You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.
----❄----
Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry. 
He wasn’t your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didn’t owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldn’t be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, he’d be fine. You’d get your cookies and he’d be fine.
“Ma’am,” the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention. 
You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time. 
Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.
“We’ve got a schedule to keep,” the attendant urged. “Are you boarding or not?”
----❄----
The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.
You knocked three times, Rafe’s confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said, 
“You owe me a cookie.”
(part two)
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a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!
for updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs. to be tagged, just ask in the replies or send me an ask!
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taglist: @itneverendshere @rafediaries @promiscuousg1rl @eolsens @inlovewrafe
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thedarkestrivernymph · 13 days ago
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I would love any yandere clan leader fluff tbh, maybe one where someone from a clan at a party disrespects reader and he comforts her after defending her? Thanks!
Soft Yandere! Clan Leader x Wife! Reader
note: it kind of follows the theme of reader being overly insecure/doubting him
warnings: harassment, insecure! reader,
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Everything was loud.
The piano and violin, the hushed whispers surronding you like constant white noise, the whiskey lingering in the air like cheap perfume. You felt your head spin and buzz—bile on the back of your tongue while you clutched your glass filled with the unidentifiable magenta swirling inside of it.
You shouldn't be here. Just were not cut-out for this; for the weight that your husband's last name bore, pushing you down until you could do nothing but slouch.
And then a strange cold limp patted you on your shoulder. Right, you were next to your husband's cousin—what was his name again?
“Relax, I’m sure he's gonna be right back.”
But as he laughed, tipsy as he was, you were certain that his hand shouldn’t feel like a heavy paw of a fox tackling down a lamp to feast on—it probably should’ve comforted you along with his words, reassure you and ease the tension between your shoulder blades.
“Pretty shy, ain't you?” he quipped and all you could do was smile awkwardly.
He was nice-looking, younger than you, probably with no fear of anything; especially not physical contact. It probably didn't mean much to him, but to you the pads of his fingers brushing over your naked shoulder felt violating, as if he placed them there specifically to watch the discomfort spawn on your face. As if he prided himself with being socially more comptent than you.
“Such a pretty face, but you don't talk much, do ya? C’mon talk, it's just me, we’re practically family now.” his breath stung, made your eyes tear up from the potent concentration of alcohol.
You hadn’t even meant to get roped up in this conversation, not at all. Passing by, searching for your husband in the crowd of unfamiliar clan-members and different clans; men dressed in their finest suits or cultural attires, with women adored in extravagant dresses and bold colours—you had stumbled upon the one familiar face of his distant cousin and now his arm draped over your shoulder like shackles keeping you in place.
“Got really lucky with ya—didn’t he? Lucky Bastard.” he laughed and you further shrunk and shriveled into yourself. “Got to be the next clan leader, got the title, the fame, the power, always got the prettier women—”
“That's enough.” a voice cut through the stifling air like a whip; sharp and poised like the gaze of his owner with his sudden appearance —draped in matching midnight blue silk, dressed worthy of the head of a clan as large as his was.
He was angered, you could tell that much—the piercing look in his eyes spoke for itself; as deep as the ocean, a storm wracking in his soul, with waves building up until they even swallowed you.
So you looked away, ashamed.
“I said that's enough.” this time he ripped his cousin's dirty paw off of your shoulder. His jaw was clenched and suddenly you felt suffocated by the intensity of it all—you hadn't meant for this. What if now he would blame you? Thought you were comfortable with being close to other men. He was so sweet till now, but what if he was appalled now, disgusted, what if he—
“Are you alright, love?” he grounded you, as he always did, holding you like fragile porcelain, peering down at you with stern but not unkind eyes.
“I-I am fine.” you stammered, overwhelmed by his gentle tone and softer touch—it made your head spin with confusion. Just why was he always so kind to you? Even now? Even after everything he saw.
“Love, you don't look fine to me.” he whispered, came close enough so that his breath brushed the shell of your ear and the warmth of it travel down to your painfully fast beating heart. “No, I really am—”
“She said she's fine. What? Tryna make me seem like the bad guy when you left your woman alone—” he didn't get any more words out before his collar tightened, dangerously until air was just but a luxury.
Yet you didn't even see him choking, nor did you hear whatever it was that your betrothed threatened him with, shielding your line of sight with his broad back, towering over the other guy as if he didn't want you to watch.
However he, no matter how much he tried concealing the conversation occuring between them—with hushed whispers similar to that of a scolding father—you could see raw terror in his cousin's eyes after your husband let him go. The man’s eyes were as wide as saucers and they may have met yours for just a fraction—yet you were sure of what you saw. Even more so as he scurried away like a mouse.
“Come. Let's get you out of here.” he grabbed you by your arm, firmly with strength that you knew would bruise if he was as angry with you as he was with his cousin. So he wasn't angry with you? Somehow, knowing this only unsettled you further.
He whisked you away—somewhere much more private and intimate; into a nearby empty room. Staring down at you, he stood still as a statue after closing the door, allowing silence to hug the both of you in a stifling embrace.
“I am sorry—” you broke through the silence, shattering the illusion of calmness.
“Sorry?” he furrowed his brows, bewilderment taking over his features and you swore his eyes watered. In a way, he only looked more frustrated, the sharpness of his features morphing to something animalistic.
“Is sorry not enough?” you flinched, squinting, the moon once more had chosen you to illuminate with its beauty. Yet, you were nothing worth of it—not when he stood in front of you, more righteous and more deserving than you ever had been.
It seemed he was at a loss for words, staring at you as if you were alien to him.
“I truly feel remorseful—” you were about to kneel, lower yourself, but before your knees even had the chance to hit the ground he held you in his arms, shaking you with all his might.
“Stop, my love, please stop. One more word of yours and my heart will rip.” he was frantic, desperate. This wasn't the usual head-strong confident leader, the man with the voice of chiffon—this was him, raw and vulnerable.
“How can you—have I failed this much?” his voice was like tides of the sea; unrestrained yet eerily calm. “Have I neglected you? Have I not shown you how much I love you?” his touch become more frantic, hands burying themselves into the fabric of your dress.
“I failed you, my love. I am so ashamed of myself.” now he was the one kneeling in front of you. The man who's presence alone was enough to demand order and submission, who reigned over his clan firmly yet fairly, who was respected by everyone around you—at your feet, staring up at you as if you were his goddess and he a peasant.
Stunned you could only stare as wetness glistened over his cheeks, strange softness taking ahold of his features.
“I—” he pressed a kiss to your ankle. “I will prove myself to you once again. I will love you so much, you won't ever have the opportunity to doubt. I will love you enough for the both of us. So much, that you won't ever take the blame for a bastard again. I will love you so much, that you will stop thinking that you're anything but a minx that captured me and continues to do so.” he kissed your knee.
“Do you even know how much I struggle to let you out of my arms whenever we hug? I can't bear the thought of someone else claiming that you're theirs. When I know that you're my soulmate since the day our eyes met. I am yours in body and mind and I want you to finally see that.” his voice deep and soulful cracked, fingers clutching you like a lifeline.
“My love, I will do better. I promised once to prove myself to you, and I promise twice now. Even if it takes my whole life, I will get rid of everything that hurts you. Anyone that hurts you. And that includes all that garbage in that pretty head of yours. I will do better teaching you, love.” he kissed you over your beating heart.
“I am yours.”
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makobakuboom · 9 months ago
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Caught!!
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wordcount - 704
Paring - Katsuki Bakugo x reader
Some quick fluff for you to enjoy while I write something big!!
After hanging out with your secret boyfriend Bakugo it's finally time for him to leave but just as he's leaving someone spots him.
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A nest of blankets and pillows had formed around you and your boyfriend Bakugo. The two of you had been lounging in bed together tangled for hours, unfortunately your time together was about to be cut. You glanced at the clock, hazily blinking from the sleepiness your boyfriend’s arms brought you. “Kats look at the time, you gotta go.” You said with a slight frown on your face.
He hummed in acknowledgment and lifted his head from your shoulder to look at you with a sigh. Usually you would let him spend the night and make sure he left early enough to not get caught, but you had early combat training and that left no opportunity for him to leave. You two had been dating for a couple months now and had decided to keep it a secret because, as Katsuki had said it, ‘those dumbasses would be annoying and never shut up about it’.
He stroked your hair as he gave you a kiss on the cheek. He untangled himself from you and got up with a groan. Glancing at the clock he let out another sigh. “Stupid fucking early training..” He said with a slight growl and threw a quick mad expression before giving you a warm smile.You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed tightly while he sat on the edge of your bed as a final goodbye before he left. 
You walked out and opened the door to let him out with a frown once again. Just outside your door frame Bakugo turned around to face you with a smirk, leaning in for a kiss he was interrupted by the neighboring door opening. “Bakubro..? What are you doing here?”  A look of anger spread across your boyfriend’s face as he whipped his head to face the fiery redhead, well his hair wasn’t so red at the moment. Red tips of his hair hung in front of his eyes while his roots were a color more similar to your boyfriend’s. 
Behind him stumbled out Mina who let out a gasp. “What are YOU doing with raccoon eyes??” Bakugo said loud enough for it to be a yell but not loud enough to wake the others. Kirishima scratched the back of his and let out a small chuckle. Mina finally pushed past him as her eyes widened, as pointed at you two looking back and forth. “STOP IT UNLESS YOU WANNA DIE” Little explosions formed from Bakugo’s hands as Mina cowarded back and behind Kiri. 
“Calm down Mina helps me dye my hair the red’s not natural, keep that a secret.” Kirishima let out another chuckle and a smile spread across his face. “Now explain to us what’s going on here!!” Mina yelled, peeking her head out from behind. Bakugo let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. You grabbed onto your boyfriend’s arm to calm him down in any way, doing this makes him soften his expression just a bit.
“You caught us!! We’re dating but please don’t tell anyone.” You said while peeking your head out the door frame with an embarrassed look. Bakugo’s eyes widen while he turns his head to face you. The two others with you let out a gasp. “Oh MY GOSH GIRL WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME??” Mina whisper yelling, running over to you. An arm was quickly put out to keep distance. “Because we knew you would act like this, ya damn weirdo.” Bakugo said with another scoff. Mina rolled his eyes at him.
“Well since we both know each other’s secret so I don’t see why we would tell anyone.” Kirishima interjected trying to keep the peace. He grabbed Mina and pulled her back with a sigh. “We gotta finish my hair..Sorry guys!!” He said while the two walked off in the direction of the elevators. You and Bakugo look at each other with a little confusion while letting out a small laugh. “If he tells anyone I’ll kill him.” You lightly hit his arm for saying that. As he walked away to head to his dorm you let out a small smile. It was good to finally tell someone about your secret relationship, even if you get teased over it.
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shotmrmiller · 10 months ago
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simon's many things. a retired fighter, for one. he hung his mma gloves a few of years ago with the excuse of getting older. he still sticks around, though— sitting in the front, so close to the hexagonal cage that his knees can touch the steel, occasionally gesturing price over to hand him a crinkled wad of cash.
gambling's illegal, you know.
thought you were a medic not a cop, pet.
a veterinarian.
good thing we're all dogs here, then.
he's also a bit unhinged, or so price says. you had pressed your tongue against the back of your teeth to keep from asking him if the hits simon's taken to the side of the head knocked a few things loose or if he was simply born that way. you'd be thoroughly unsurprised by the latter.
seen 'em take a man out with one ferocious hit— dislocated his jaw and retired him all in one second— all over cigarettes.
what, did they guy like steal them or something?
no. the prize for the winner of their fight was that pack of smokes.
incredible. (that's insane.)
he's also unrepentantly forward and a bit of a pervert, to boot. no explanation is needed.
lemme take ya out, love—
don't call me that.
and wear a pretty dress with heels. bet you'd look real good in—
stop talking, simon.
and now, you're about to find out that he's also, apparently, magnanimous.
a friday night's hustle and bustle has come and gone, as has the crowd that was in there earlier to watch a fight. the air smells of cheap alcohol and even cheaper cologne. the lighting inside is dim, casting a dull, almost sickly glow over wooden stands and the bloodied arena. the floor, once dry concrete, was now mud-slicked; drinks, urine, and spilled blood staining the surface. betting slips stick to your sneakers as you walk. (trudge, more like.)
with your worn medical supply bag around your shoulder, you tiredly head towards price's office whose metal door is being held open by an old barstool, and gently rap your knuckles on the frame. "i'm leaving, john."
he looks up at you, soft blue eyes crinkling over his glasses as he smiles. "sounds good, love. see ya later. want me to walk you out?"
always the gentleman. "no, i'm alright. i'm sure simon's out there waiting for me any—"
the metal entrance door slams open then, causing you to jump at the startling noise. you whip your head around and a resigned groan escapes your lips. it's simon and he's got bruised company. very bruised.
there's never any rest for the wicked.
"who's that?" john calls from behind you. "he lost?"
the guy whose arm is slung around simon's shoulders looks relatively young. thick, straight eyebrows, a swollen broken nose, and thin blood-crusted lips. the last time you saw a mohawk on someone, it'd been in the early 00s.
"somewhat but it's a good thing i found 'em," simon grunts. his eyes flash over to you. "can ya patch him up f'me, love? i'll go on tha' date you've been beggin' me for."
you ignore simon as you approach them both and tip the guy's head up with your fingers under his chin. searching in your front pocket, you tell him to look at you. "open your eyes as best you can, alright?"
his eyes are like sparkling blue gems— bright like the sky on a clear summer's day. he winces at the blinding white light emitting from the flashlight. "tha' necessary, lass? ah'm not seein' double, if tha's what ye lookin' fer."
he gives a pained grunt before simon tells him to stand still. "my girl here's the medic and what she says goes. clear?"
"crystal, sir." purple bruises are blooming like dark flowers around his left eye and right cheekbone, and the blood that oozed from his split lip long coagulated. his nose, however, continues to languidly drip crimson.
"not the worst break i've seen," you mutter.
the pair shuffle behind you quietly as you head toward the dedicated medical room. the sharp, clinical scent of antiseptic wafts through the air as the door swings open.
"sit, please," you gesture to the well-worn chair in the corner.
black latex gloves squeak in protest as you slide them on. "wanna tell me what's going on, simon? i'm not gonna fix the nose of a wanted murderer, am i?"
simon chuckles under his breath. "no. unlucky bloke chose to mug the wrong person. johnny here is real good at fightin', though, for someone with no real proper trainin'. figured i could give him a way to earn his money instead of stealin' it off of hard-workin' folk."
you hum and press your thumbs as gently as you can where the nasal fracture is. johnny hisses sharply and grips your wrist tightly. "easy. i barely touched it." you quickly tap the back of his hand with your knuckles. "let go, please. last thing i need is you tensing and breaking my arm."
he slackens his fingers and sits on both of his hands. "sorry, lass. ah'd never hurt a bonnie lass like ye. say, how'd ye even end up in the bowels of the city?"
his talking re-opened the cut on his upper lip, blood streaking his teeth pink. "i'm a charity case, just like you, i reckon."
johnny means to continue the conversation, but you take advantage of his distracted mind and push to the left, the sickening crunch of cartilage follows the adjustment. he curls in on himself and lets out a guttural noise that bounces off the white walls. "i'd be sorry but..." you trail off with a casual shrug.
pulling a clean rag from a basket nearby, you order johnny to sit up straight. "look up for me." he leans his head back, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "hold this there," he squeezes his eyes shut when you firmly press the rag under his nose, "you'll stop bleeding soon enough."
you swivel on your stool, turning your attention to simon who's been silently watching you work by the door. "any injuries on you?"
he pulls his balaclava up, revealing a blonde stubble and scarred lips. "i got an injury right," he points at his mouth, "here tha' you can kiss—"
"stop talking, simon."
johnny's laughter emerges from behind the crimson-stained cloth.
--
this is the first time you've ever seen simon in the ring.
simon, even while 'retired', fights with a viciousness that borders on primal. his snarl— a ravenous wolf's— bare crooked teeth that hunger for victory, for dominance.
even when he's merely teaching johnny how to survive in this subterranean battleground.
"there's no room for mercy, soap!" he bellows. his eyes are sharp as blades, holding an edge of madness. he charges forward with fists like sledgehammers, delivering blow after punishing blow; johnny's body paying the price for his mistakes.
pain is the currency in that pit of despair, laswell had once said.
simon is a beast in human skin, ferocity incarnate...and you don't remember the last time you were this aroused by such a brute display. if this is what he looks like now, after years of being the spectator and not the spectacle, you can only imagine him in the zenith of his strength, his power.
heat licks up your cheeks at the mere thought.
he looks like he was born and bred to fight. his crib must've been the stained mat he's dancing on, his lullabies the sound of fists making contact, forcing flesh to yield. his broad back bears the weight of history— jagged flesh that stretches taut with each swing.
"fight smart! rules dissolve once tha' bell tolls, mate. many come here for glory, others come for an escape but some--" simon ducks the undisciplined punch johnny throws and gives him a ruthless jab to the ribs once then another to the side of his cut jaw.
johnny falls like a tree that's been cut at the trunk, the sound his body makes on impact with the canvas echoing in the empty basement. his breathing comes in ragged bursts, sweat and trickles of blood mingling on his face. simon kneels next to him, grunting as he goes down. "some are only here for their next meal and those are the most dangerous."
he is in his element, all bruised flesh and bloodied nose.
oh no. johnny's nose is bleeding too. "simon!" his head snaps to you when you scream, eyes wide and unfettered. "i just fixed his nose, you dolt!" his expression softens then— furrowed brows and taut lips relax.
"he'll be alrigh'. even my nose whistles when i breathe," he remarks.
simpleton. nothing but fighting and gambling in that big head of his. "that doesn't mean that it's okay to break bones i mended a few days ago." you keep your eyes fixed on johnny, ignoring the way the heat that's radiating from simon's sweat-slick body seeps into your chilled skin. "why he call you soap, anyway? good at cleaning dishes?"
he slurs a little, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "'cuz ah'm a shlippery bashtard."
you bite on your tongue, hoping that his slurring is because he's still mildly dazed from the punch and not something worse.
"wha' about me, love? i've got a beaten face too, y'know." you look at him then, narrowing your eyes as you take his bare face in. the bridge of his nose is pretty swollen, and you can see the onset of bruising already happening. it's also freely dribbling blood.
"shit, let me go get my medbag."
he hooks his fingers around the loops of your jeans, keeping you in place. "'fraid of a little blood, are ya? i think you'd look real good with me on you."
a jolt of arousal shoots up your spine unbidden, blooming desire, focus wavering. your breath catches and pupils dilate as they lock with his rich, brown ones.
"oi, get a room, aye?" johnny's hoarse voice snaps you back to the present, your thunderous heartbeat ebbing away like a tide from shore.
"whenever you want, sweetheart," simon purred. the lump lodged in your throat makes it hard to respond. "get the bag 'fore i bleed out. price will have my head if i drop dead on his mat."
you blink and scramble away on shaky legs and weak knees.
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jasminerva · 2 months ago
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“does Nagumo have kinks and if so what are your favs for him 🎤”
So I was asked the above by Lao (@herringstrait)... And I thought I'd just list off a few off the top of my head, but in the end I had enough for a full post lmaooo (and then some - I added more and it just got away from me orz)
Welp... here ya go!
Nagumo x gn!Reader (w/ a few femme-gendered parts as indicated by ♀) Want more? Check out my SakaDays Masterlist! 🍑 Comments, reblogs, tags appeachiated~! 🍑
🎤🧐
mic check one-two (takes in a deep breath)
Nagumo x Reader NSFW headcanons
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I feel like Nagumo would prefer to be in control even when he "relinquishes" it lol he wants to show you who's boss (it's you - if you really want you can even make him cry and drool and beg for it) he'll (learn to) crave it 😏 like a special once in a while treat. Honestly, he convinces himself he needs control because that's secure & safe to him. When he gives you control, that's basically saying he feels super safe with you! And if that ain't the sexiest thing ever, I don't know what is.
I personally don't feel like he's got any extravagant kinks like rope play or whips or wax / pain play (he'll try everything once, and he'll do stuff that you like for you)
Now, that doesn't mean he won't go crazy if you wrap yourself up like a present with your/his favourite-coloured ribbon! Or - better yet - let him wrap you up!
Food play for sure tho. One of the smut fics I have drafted up for Valentine's Day involves chocolate in lieu of clothing lmao
Nagumo likes little challenges cuz he's childish like that - throw him a bone every once in a while. Dare him to keep the cuffs on no matter what (god knows he can break outta anything). Let him get creative in stripping you and he'll surprise you (hint: it involves teeth).
I do think he'd like it a lot if you call him "good boy" - he likes praise. Nagumo will for sure reciprocate.
I think he really likes jiggly parts lol so he'd get mesmerized and purposely slam harder and maybe slap it a bit just to see it wiggle lmao (also them slapping sounds mmmph)
Mirror sex
Orgasm control lol but not too crazy he's a soft guy (for the most part). Mostly, he's a sappy romantic and he wants to cum isshoni together with you, so he'll do his darndest to get you off at the same time. In reality, you could probably control him better than he thinks he can control you.
He can be a little possessive but it's not to possess rather than the feelings behind it. If you time it well and tell him you're "his" he could very much cum prematurely 🤣 (he just wants you to know you're his and he's yours okay???)
I also have a smut that I don't know when it'll be released but… it involves an annual hunting excursion in the wilderness lmao (where YOU are the prey - so yeah) [Lao mentioned the face he made while threatening Yotsumura so I HAD TO INCLUDE IT]
(hack-coughs)
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(takes in another breath)
Nagumo would be amazing at role play (dude is a master of disguise) but at the end of the day all he wants is to be himself / vulnerable and with you 🥹
I shared this before where Nagumo keeps his eyes open for everything lmaooo his FOMO is bad. You have to get used to when you accidentally peek while he's kissing or you're trying to cover your O face - nope, he will pry those hands off your face or lean very forward - he wants to see it ALL with them big boba eyes.
Just like his eyes are made for eyeing, his fingers are made for fingering. You can act all cocky and crack a joke about how his knuckle tattoos will wear out so much faster at the rate he's going, but he'll just tell you, "worth getting them retouched if I get to touch you like this" as he nearly sends you to heaven (showing off the real reason he has his gold assassin license).
On that note, he's not afraid to probe (literally and figuratively) you, even while you're already stuffed. "Y-Yoichi, t-too much... I don't think that'll fff—" "Shh... don't worry, baby, you can take it all."
[♀] For my womb-sisters, I can see him pressing down on your lower abdomen while he's thrusting into you, feeling you from the outside-in (inside-out?), driving you crazy. Hit that g(uaranteed good time)-spot-on accuracy.
He knows how to use his tongue too. You might even prefer it because it means he'll shut up for once, but ultimately you love his silver tongue-in-cheek as much as you love his other appendages. I think he still prefers leaving his mouth free for kisses and cracking wise.
[♀] Bonus food play, he will kill two birds with one stone by taking in some sugar-free candy or mint beforehand to eat you out. We know how much he loves his sweets after all~ ;) plus the minty tingle would keep things quite literally fresh. (warning: don't mix actual sugar with the vajayjay — not worth it)
Look up BJ blast pop rocks and tell me that won't be the best way to get back at him.
He loves it when you tangle your fingers in his hair, hold him close while he ravishes you. He keeps his hair messy for a reason (wants you stuck for as long as possible).
[♀] Just like he has the bobas, if you have the boobas, he loves to motorboat tease them and rest his face between them (even outside of R18 times). There's something about how nipples perk up that he feels real satisfied about.
[♀] Holding onto them while he's hitting that spot? The peaks between his tattooed fingers and feeling the jiggly movement under his palms? That's one of the rare times he has difficulty concentrating on your face.
Aftercare
This can be pre-/post-/in between, but he likes to trace your hip or stomach or other part with his fingers. Maybe solve some math puzzles like a nerd (scenario included below).
He'll clean you up really well. Maybe too well. Don't take up his offer to clean you up in the shower or bath if you're short on time.
I can see him as the big spoon, or even little spoon. Best would be the pillow-talk position, where he just holds you right against him, face-to-face, eye-to-boobage.
Whatever position, just picture him holding you with his fingers interlocked.
He'll tangle his legs with yours and lock you tf in. Need to go to the bathroom? Best of luck. Dude is a clingy Cancer.
He might wax poetic, saying something cheesy like "we fit together like puzzle pieces" or "you're a problem I'm still trying to solve" - feel free to bonk him. Then you'll have some mandarin oranges to share!
Nuzzles & cuddles & kisses, oh my!
He'll fall asleep with his chin resting on your head, or nuzzled against your chest. (omg Memi @toyboxterror shared this art by ivy_rt_ w/ me which is perfect)
Extra for those familiar with cloud8.
re: hunter-prey play - you don’t particularly like nature, but you’ll do it just to outlast him as long as possible (you can be stupid competitive and it reminds you of JCC times) - plus maybe you like the adrenaline spike haha. He makes a convincing predator.
re: orgasm control / rare dom time - you will get some use out of your kill heels after all (psst don’t tell Tenju).
If you’re into consensual somno - the perk is that you don’t have to do anything PLUS it makes Nagumo feel trusted and desired and that gets him off. WIN-WIN & WINK-WONK.
Nagumo may hate his stuffy work wear, but you've convinced him the necktie is a must. To tug on, motioning him to come hither, pulling him into a kiss, he'll pin you down between his arms and deepen it. It becomes ceremony after a long day's work. (thank you Memi for reminding me!!!)
Extra (forgot I had this drafted in Oct - figured I'd include it here)
SakaDays headcanon: Nagumo “I solve Sudoku puzzles in my downtime” Yoichi does rapid mental math in his head and most likely even uses his fingers (wink-wonk).
shared in the ch1 end notes of c o n t r a i l s (Nagumo x F!Reader ***nsfw smut*** fic). [tumblr post link if you wanted to like + reblog]
Probably traces Sudoku on your bare skin, too. The nerd. Here's a smol scenario of a time when you first noticed:
(You and Nagumo are snuggled up) Nagumo: (hand lingering on your hip, he starts tracing patterns on your skin) You: Are you playing tic-tac-toe or something? Nagumo: Hm? Nope. You: (after a few more movements, realizing) Seriously? Sudoku? Nagumo: Yeah, well, I left the book in my other coat, but may as well continue where I left off~ You: Wow. Is that where your mind immediately goes? Lucky me. Nagumo: (slowly moves mathematical ministrations towards your core, purring) Feeling lucky now~?
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immortalmrwavell · 4 months ago
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Proof of Possession
(Original story posted January 6th 2022 and January 14th 2022) This story has been mildly Updated!
This story was originally posted in two parts but I’ve decided repost both parts together for your reading convenience
(Part 1)
Danny leaned back into the couch after the bizarre secret that his roommate Jacob had just confessed to him. “So… you expect me to believe that you actually have the ability to possess people? Come on Jacob. Really??” He snorted at the idea like any sane person would.
“Well I mean… it’s more like I merge with them kinda. It’s not like I become a ghost or anything. I can push myself inside their bodies and become one with them.” Jacob explained, trying his best to describe the power he held.
“Oh of course. Now it makes total sense.” Danny rolled his eyes a little.
Jacob sighed. “Okay I get. You still don’t believe me. That’s fair. I wouldn’t believe me either so I’ll just have to prove it to ya.”
“W-what do you mean…” Danny gave his roommate a weird look. He still didn’t believe Jacob but he couldn’t help feeling a tad on edge at that moment.
Jacob held his hands up innocently. “Don’t worry I’m not gonna do it to you dude. I was thinking of Mr Reigner maybe?” He began, immediately seeing the way Danny’s eyes lit up at the mention of their dilf neighbor. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. Can’t blame you either. Absolute daddy material. So how about I head over there, use my power on him. I’ll even send you some hot pictures of him from his phone as proof.”
“You know what?” Danny began, leaning forwards. “This sounds not only impossible but completely stupid… but if you’re somehow telling the truth then my phone is always on me…”
Jacob grinned. He’d kept these powers a secret for what felt like ages now. To finally have someone to share it with was going to be fantastic!
———
It was only a few weeks back when Jacob discovered he could actually take over the bodies of other people. In fact the first time it happened was by complete accident.
He’d been admiring this guy at the gym. Jacob had seen the dude there a lot which wasn’t surprising seeing how jacked the dude was. Guy looked like a total meathead and totally Jacob’s type. Naturally Jacob found his eyes wandering towards the hunk fairly often. He couldn’t help but imagine what it must’ve been like having a huge muscled body like that.
On this particular day Jacob watched as the hunk left for the locker room after his workout. That was when he noticed the jock had forgotten his water bottle nearby one of the machines he’d been using. Seeing this as a chance to talk to the handsome hunk he’d been eyeing up for months, Jacob grabbed the water bottle in an attempt to return it to its rightful owner. Perhaps he’d even get the chance to do some subtle flirting.
The bottle even had the dude’s name written on it. ‘Sam Warren’ it said.
Upon entering the locker room, Jacob whipped his head around in search of the guy he’d been drooling over only to find him standing in nothing but a towel. Jacob managed to dig up the courage to go over and talk to Sam. Yet as he got closer, he couldn’t help but further admire the man’s incredible side profile. Sam had a hypnotic shelf of hefty muscle he called pecs along with a pair of enormous arms that were probably strong enough to lift Jacob without a thought.
All he could think about was how amazing it would be to pilot a body like that. To take up so much space with all that muscle. To flex those pecs in a mirror every morning. To have men and women alike practically throwing themselves at him for a chance to hang from one of those gorgeous biceps. Those thoughts persisted through his mind as he grabbed the hunk’s massive shoulder.
“Hey man, is this your water bottle?” Is what Jacob would’ve said had he not felt a powerful jolt of energy surge through his entire being upon touching Sam. The same energy flowed through Sam’s body causing the jock to let out a sudden grunt in shock and discomfort.
That’s when something truly unimaginable happened. Slowly but surely Jacob’s hand began sinking into Sam’s flesh. He tried to pull himself back in a blind panic by grabbing hold of Sam’s other shoulder for support without thinking. Next thing he knew, Jacob’s other hand also began sinking inside.
Sam was unable to do anything but groan and let out the occasional curse. He wanted to shout and shove this scrawny guy away somehow but his entire body felt as though it was paralysed. All he could feel was Jacob's hands and arms sinking deeper into his body. Before long Jacob’s arms had completely disappeared inside the hunk, pulling him in closer as his chest began to press against Sam’s muscular back.
Then things started to get even freakier. As Jacob tried to move his arms from inside Sam, it was actually Sam’s massive ones that began to respond. At first they just twitched a little. But the more effort Jacob tried, the more control he gained until he was moving Sam’s arms like a puppeteer from behind.
He didn’t have much time to wrap his mind around it though as Jacob felt his own legs and torso begin to stick to Sam’s back and legs. His body somehow phased through both his own clothes and Sam’s towel. This time Jacob didn’t resist though. In fact as he started to realise what was happening, he started to go along with it.
He willingingly pushed his legs into Sam’s huge trunks, allowing the process to hasten rather significantly. Within a few moments his legs had become one with Sam’s. But that wasn’t all as Jacob thrust his hips as hard as he could against Sam’s thick muscle ass, allowing his cock and balls to phase inside the hunk. The process of which caused Sam’s large jock cock to twitch.
Soon enough Jacob’s backside disappeared inside Sam as well and his torso was already halfway there. Sam’s legs stumbled a little as Jacob gained control, just about catching himself before they fell. In that time Jacob’s torso had enough time to finish merging with Sam leaving only Jacob’s head now sticking out of that muscular back.
“N-nooooo-uughhh… get outta m-aarrhh… b-bro-uughhhh…” Was all the dumb jock could say between all his moans as quickly lost control of his entire body. Slowly but surely being forced into the passenger seat as Jacob took over.
Jacob had to admit, He was a little worried. He didn’t know what was going to happen to him once his head got pulled in. Would he still be himself? Would he remember what happened? Would he just become Sam? Unfortunately it didn’t seem like he had a choice now so he put on a brave face and took a deep breath. Moments after finally allowing his head to sink inside.
Sam’s eyes rolled back as his whole body convulsed for a moment or two. For him everything faded to black as his mind was pushed deep into his own subconscious. This however allowed enough room for Jacob’s mind to move in and take over completely. After a few moments his bulky new body began to settle as Jacob was at last able to see out of a new pair of eyes.
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“Holy fuckkkkkk…” Were the first words that came out of his mouth. He sounded just like Sam. He WAS Sam! Jacob looked down at himself to see he was now in full control of the massive hunky body he’d been lusting over for god knows how long. He had no idea how any of it was possible but… it was!
He certainly didn’t waste any time getting to know his buff new form. Within seconds Jacob was already playing with Sam’s pecs. Squeezing them, flexing them and bouncing them to his delight. He did everything you could imagine a guy in his position would do. Flex his biceps, marvel at his newfound size and height, play with new ass a little, admiring his new and much deeper voice. It was beyond exhilarating!
Doing so created quite the stirring in his crotch and before he knew it Jacob was dropping his towel to see Sam’s juicy cock springing to attention. Pulsing and eager to be jerked. Jacob couldn’t help but wrap a hand around his new rod while flexing a bicep. He was already loving how huge and powerful he felt.
“Fuuuuuuck Bro! This feels insane!” The way he found himself speaking took him off guard a little. Bro? That’s not something he’d usually say. It must’ve been Sam’s jock personality seeping through. “Sooooo fucking huuuge!” He continued as he took no shame in kissing his biceps.
“S-Sam?” A voice came from across the locker room.
Jacob turned to see another buff as fuck dude. He recognised the man straight away. He’d been working out with Sam earlier on in the gym. In that moment Jacob found himself subconsciously digging into Sam’s memories and found that the dude’s name was Ken.
Though the other jock clearly looked shocked to see his gym buddy standing naked and gripping his cock, Ken also looked a little flustered as well. His eyes darted towards Jacob’s crotch more than once. That certainly wasn’t the response you’d get from any straight man which could only mean…
Jacob sauntered over towards Ken, his hard cock bobbing slightly as he did. “Go on. Grab it. I know you want to bro.” Jacob grinned devilishly, glancing down at his cock then back up at Ken. He couldn’t believe what he was saying but being in this body filled him with an unprecedented amount of confidence.
After that the rest of that day went on like an orgasmic blur for Jacob. First with him and Ken worshiping each other's thick muscular bodies. Only stopping when some other guys came into the locker room prompting them to run off to the showers together. It wasn’t long before Jacob had Ken on his knees sucking him off until he nutted down Ken’s throat. And shortly after Jacob was more than happy to return the favor.
Once they were finished, the pair got dressed before heading over to Sam’s place. Jacob drew on the memories of his host once again to find the way. The moment they entered the apartment, they were already making out again. Tugging their clothes straight back off until they made it to the bedroom. What transpired after that was a long evening of hot passionate sex where Jacob made sure to get his new virgin jock hole nice and stretched.
The following morning Jacob was the first to wake. One of his huge arms was draped over Ken’s still sleeping body. So far he’d loved every second of being Sam. Having these huge muscles and getting fuck another muscle stud over and over. It was an absolute dream come true! However, now that he had some time to himself, he began to wonder if he’d be stuck in this body forever. Would he want that? As amazing as this was, did he really want to leave his old life behind forever?
As doubts began to well up inside him, a strange feeling began to rack his body. It wasn’t too dissimilar from what he felt when he first merged with Sam. Before he knew it, his eyes began to roll back as his vision went totally black.
Jacob began losing control of Sam’s body causing it to go limp as his original body was slowly ejected out. Moments later, Jacob regained his vision as his head popped out of Sam’s back followed by his torso, legs and finally arms. It was almost like pulling off a body suit he’d been wearing.
Now back to his usual scrawny self, Jacob hopped off the bed as Sam’s body laid unconscious. Since his clothes had disappeared when he originally merged with Sam, he now found himself standing completely naked as he looked over the two sleeping hunks. In a panic, he quickly but quietly grabbed some of Sam’s discarded clothes. They were far too big but they’d have to do as he snuck out of the apartment.
Once he was out, Jack couldn’t help but laugh as he thought about how the real Sam was gonna react when he woke up. Sleeping in bed next to his gym buddy with a sore asshole. As a straight man he was never gonna live that one down.
Jacob learned to better control and understand his power over the next couple weeks. He possessed so many more men. All different shapes and sizes. All with different lives and backgrounds.
And all he had to do was touch them while wishing to become them.
Pretty simple right? Then once he’d enjoyed himself enough in a guy's body for long enough, all he had to do was wish he were himself again and he’d be ejected out. Ready to move on to the next guy.
———
Now Jacob was leaving his apartment to go pay his neighbor Mr Reigner a visit. Of course his roommate Danny didn’t believe him after finally he decided to tell him about his power. But he was certain taking over Mr Reigner would be more than enough to change his mind…
———
(Part 2)
After hearing a prompt knock at his apartment door, Mr Reigner opened up to see none other than one of the college boys from next door. “Oh Hey. What’s up Jacob? Something you need?”
“Nah nothing much Mr Reigner. I was just wondering if I could come inside to talk to you about something.” Jacob shrugged with an innocent smile.
“Of course! Come in. It’s my day off so I’ve got as much time as you need.” The man said with a genuine smile. “And call me Mike. Mr Reigner makes me sound old.” He added as he moved to the side to allow the younger man to pass.
Jacob almost began to feel bad about this as he entered the apartment. Mike was genuinely such a nice guy… but that didn’t change the fact that he looked like a total dilf. Besides, it wasn't like he was planning on stealing that sexy body forever. Just a little while so he could prove his powers to Danny that was all. And have a little fun of course. And so Jacob strolled through to the living room before seating himself on the couch, soon followed by Mike.
“So, what’s it you wanted to talk about?” Mike questioned.
“Well you see… I recently lost my job and I was wondering if you could help me look for a new one?” What he said wasn’t even a total lie. Due to multiple accounts of absence and lateness throughout the last couple weeks, Jacob had actually been fired from his retail job at one of the local shops. Of course this was all due to Jacob not being able to resist using his newfound power on hot dudes whenever he got the chance. Could you blame him for completely losing track of time?
Upon hearing that news Mike, the sweet guy that he was, jumped at the chance to help his young neighbor out. He said he’d make them both a cup of coffee then they could start discussing what Jacob wants to do and start by looking online for something. Being a carpenter himself, Mike mentioned that he may even be able to get Jacob an apprenticeship in carpentry if that’d be something he was interested in. And with that the older man headed off into the kitchen to make those coffee’s he promised.
After that Jacob decided he’d better get this done now before he loses his nerve. He waited about a minute or so before taking a deep breath. He jumped up from the couch and quietly made his way into the kitchen. There he saw Mike standing by the countertop with two cups as he began filling the coffee pot.
The young and very horny college boy couldn’t help but silently stare at his hot neighbor’s dad butt pressed tightly against those welling fitting shorts he wore. Just looking at it was giving him a boner. He wanted to have that ass sooo bad badly and in more ways than one. He still felt a little guilty but… to hell with it! Jacob let his hormones takeover as he practically pounced on Mike, wrapping his arms tightly around the older man.
“Jacob! What ar-roooo-o-o-o-oooooohhhhhaaa!” Mike’s words swiftly devolved into a powerful groan as his body tensed up. Mike found himself unable to move an inch as the super powered 20 year old held him tightly. Mike was only just able to tilt his head down enough to see the impossible happening right before his eyes. Jacob’s hands and arms phasing through his shirt and into his body!
The college boy hugged his sexy neighbor as tightly as possible, trying to push his body inside as quickly as possible. After having had some experience now, the possession merge process had become quite a pleasure for Jacob. It was written all over his face with a dumb smile as his chest and stomach phased through the clothes and entered Mike’s back. He couldn’t help himself as he thrust his hips forwards, smashing his crotch into the bigger man’s ass causing them both to groan out while Jacob’s cock, balls and pelvis sunk into Mike’s ass. His head was already about half way in by this point as he pressed his legs against his neighbor bigger, meatier and hairier ones. Mike’s eyes rolled back as Jacob’s entire being sucked itself inside his flesh. Finally ending as the college boy's clothes fell to the ground.
Mike’s, or rather now Jacob’s, eyes fluttered for a moment. Jacob’s being was getting itself settled inside the dilf body, causing it to jitter and convulse slightly. Eventually his eyes opened again once he’d gotten comfortable, now in full control of this handsome new body.
Without hesitation Jacob practically ripped off his shirt with a lust ridden look on Mike’s face. He tossed it to the floor before running his hands along the dense forest of fur covering his new chest and stomach. It felt wonderful…
“Damn this feels incredible! So fuckin’ hairy!” Out of all the men he’d merged with so far, Mike was by far the hairiest and he absolutely adored it! Not to mention the awesome beard. He felt like such a man! It was hard to even explain. Sure he’d merged with bodies that had bigger chests and bigger biceps but this was just a whole other experience. So far Jacob had only been taking over the bodies of dudes his age. So now being inside Mike’s more mature 36 year old body was truly something else.
As his hands continued to roam across his furry new torso and rub through his beard, Jacob’s new cock was quickly beginning to chub up. Not being able to resist the tent he’d made in Mike’s shorts, Jacob pulled open the waistband and the briefs Mike had been wearing to get a look at what the older man was packing. He certainly wasn’t disappointed as he was greeted by a thick, uncut cock that must’ve been a good about 7 inches or so. Reaching inside, he couldn’t help but give the pulsing rod a few strokes, sending waves of joy throughout his dilf body.
That’s when he noticed Mike’s phone sitting on the counter top and remembered what he’d promised to Danny. Digging up the self restraint to tuck his hard cock away, Jacob grabbed the phone and unlocked it with Face ID before swiping directly over to the selfie camera.
“Fuuuck… Mike is suuuuch a hot daddy.” He muttered to himself. Even the sound of Mike’s voice coming out of his mouth making his cock buck.
Once he’d finished admiring his handsome yet stolen face, he held out the phone and started taking a few photos and before picking out his favourite one. Jacob then jumped over to contacts before tying in Danny’s number. After that he selected the photo and sent it to his skeptical roommate along with a message
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— Believe me now boy? —
Danny saw the message and picture moments. He must’ve been in shock because it took him a good minute to finally respond.
— Mr Reigner?? What are you talking about? —
Jacob rolled his eyes. There was no way Danny still didn’t believe this.
— Nope. It's Jacob! But can keep calling me Mr Reigner if you want 😏 —
At first he wanted to call Danny an idiot for thinking the real Mr Reigner would send something like that but…he didn’t wanna sound mean. Guess that was Mike’s kind personality slipping through.
— I told you I could take over bodies! —
Once again Danny saw the message but took a little while to respond.
— No no no this is a prank. You and Jacob are pranking me. People can’t just take over other people’s bodies. That’s all stupid sci-fi shit —
— Fine. If you still don’t believe me then I’ll just have to prove it in person. I’ll be over in 2 minutes 😘 —
With that Jacob set down the phone before heading out of Mike's apartment in nothing but his blue shorts and trainers. As he walked down the apartment complex hallway, he saw one of the other neighbors, Mr Davis, who Mike was good friends with. He couldn’t help but give the man a kind smile. Saying hello just as Mike would. Mr Davis gave him an odd look likely due to his bare chested ness but gave a friendly hello back regardless.
Danny’s heart jumped when he heard a knock at the door. After getting those messages, and especially that photo, from Mr Reigner he didn’t know what to think. There was no way Jacob had actually done what he said right? Possessing their dilf of a neighbor? There was no way…
He jumped up from the couch and made his way over to the door, hesitating for a moment before pushing down the handle. Opening the door, Danny was greeted by the man he’d had countless wet dreams standing shirtless before him with a devious smirk.
“Believe me now?” Mike smirked.
“J-Jacob? Is that really…you?” Danny still didn’t quite believe it but at the same time he was sure Mr Reigner wouldn't agree to go this far for a prank right?
Jacob gave Danny a soft smile as he leant down to his roommates level. Their faces were mere inches away. The hairy dad placed a gentle hand on Danny’s cheek before leaning in and sealing their lips with a soft kiss. Jacob’s beard felt incredible as it rubbed against Danny’s skin. This moment was everything the latter had ever wanted since he first laid eyes on Mr Reigner. Those ten seconds felt as though they lasted an eternity until the older man finally pulled away. Danny almost melted into a puddle as he looked deeply into those kind, soft brown eyes.
“Would the real Mr Reigner do that? Of course it’s me!” Jacob laughed.
He was right. The real Mr Reigner was straight and that kiss felt way too real for it to be part of a joke still. Which could only mean that it wasn’t a joke at all. This really was the real deal!
With that Danny offered the man inside, closing the door behind them. They sat down in the living room as Jacob re-explained his powers to Danny who this time around had a far more open mind about it.
“Sooo ummm… what should I call you now? Jacob or Mr Reigner?” Danny wondered.
“Oh just call me Mike. I hardly look like Jacob anymore and saying Mr Reigner makes me sound old.” Jacob chuckled. He didn’t even realise how he’d said almost the exact same thing that Mike had earlier.
“Well then Mike…” Danny began as he stood back up. “How’s about I help you break that new body of yours in a little.” He outstretched an arm to Jacob, pulling him up from his chair.
“I’d say that sounds like a wonderful idea.” Jacob leaned in for another kiss, this one far deeper than the last one as he felt Danny’s hands start to explore his hairy chest, squeezing his pecs as if he’d waited his whole life for it. “You know I got a good feel for my new dick earlier. I think you’re gonna love it boy. Nice and thick. And balls full of cum just for you.” He growled, trying to play into a more daddy-like persona as he glanced down at the growing hard on in his shorts.
Danny reached down and grasped Jacob’s cock through the fabric, earning a grunt from the man. “Holy fuck… you weren’t kidding. That thing is thick!” He stated, giving Jacob a rush of pride.
However Danny’s other hand drifted down the ridges of Mike’s back until he reached the waistband of those tight blue shorts. “However I was wondering…” His hand pushed down past the waistband into the shorts, causing Jacob to grunt again as he squeezed one of those hairy globes he called ass cheeks. “…If I could take that furry bubble butt of yours out for a spin first?”
With a chuckle Jacob agreed before the two locked lips once again. They continued making out with a fiery passion while slowly making their way over to Danny’s bedroom, discarding their clothing as they went. Danny wasted no time pushing Jacob down onto the bed, Mike’s furry ass presented in all its glory. After devouring that hairy hole for a good few minutes, he lubed up and slipped his cock inside. Jacob cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure as Mike’s virgin dad hole was suddenly stretched by a young college boy cock. Luckily for him though Mike’s body seemed to be quite the natural when it came to anal. Before long his ass was already adjusting to the feeling of a cock stretching it and before long he was groaning out in that deep baritone voice while Danny jackhammered that ass relentlessly. It wasn’t long before Danny could feel himself getting close.
“Come on boy! Daddy wants you to breed his hole with that delicious cum!”
Hearing his hot neighbor say those words sent Danny over the edge. He couldn’t hold back any longer as his cock exploded with cum inside the older man’s hairy ass. Filling that once never before used hole with a healthy load it so desperately needed. Afterwards they both looked at each-over, happy and exhausted as Danny pulled his cock from Jacob’s ass.
“Alright two minute break then it’s my turn to breed your ass!” Jacob stated with a grin.
———
And so the rest of that afternoon was spent exactly how you’d imagine. The two taking turns fucking one another until they finally wore themselves out. Now they laid in bed, Danny snuggling his head against Jacob’s hairy chest.
“So how long do you think you’re gonna stay as Mike?” Danny asked curiously
“I haven’t really decided yet… the longest I’ve stayed inside a guy was just over a day. Always feel like I need to get back to my life you know?” Jacob responded truthfully.
“…”
Jacob turned and looked at his roommate. “You want me to stay inside Mike don’t ya?”
“…Yeah.” Danny admitted with a blush.
“Well…I suppose I could stay for a while. And who knows if I like this body enough and it likes me then… I might see if I can make it a permanent arrangement.” Jacob grinned.
Danny looked up at Jacob in surprise. “No way… would you actually consider doing that?” He asked, trying not to sound too excited.
Jacob looked down at his bigger, hairier body before rubbing a hand through his hair and beard. Mike’s body was everything he’d ever wished he could be and now he had it. Why not keep it? Of course it wouldn’t be easy with the sudden disappearance of his old body and what not but he was sure they’d get through it. Besides, being inside Mike just felt so good. His kind and loving nature was having an incredible effect on him so far.
“Of course. How could I resist wanting to be your daddy?” He teased.
With that the new Mike kissed Danny on the forehead as they went back to an evening full of cuddling and kissing. Talking endlessly about how they were gonna spend the rest of their lives.
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violettwrites · 3 months ago
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the fall — daryl dixon
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a/n: hi guys !! sorry i have been so mia recently, life has just been crazy and work is insane coming into the christmas season. my laptop is currently away for repairs so i wrote this on my phone — please bear with me if there’s any mistakes. im hoping to have that back soon !
if you enjoy this, please don’t forget to like, reblog, and/or comment ! your support always means the world to me
summary: daryl loses you during the start of the apocalypse, and then he finds you again.
( this can be read as just daryl dixon from season 1 OR apart of my trailer park!daryl series ! they both work together so it's completely up to you! )
word count: 2,110
warnings: swearing
resources: divider by @/adornedwithlight
➵ masterlist
➵ ask box
➵ rules
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“(y/n)?!” daryl’s voice crackled over the phone as you stood in the emergency room, one hand pressed against your ear while the other held the phone to your other ear, trying to make sense of the words daryl was saying over the chaos of the building. the emergency department you worked in was teetering on the edge of an explosion— patients were pouring in, people were screaming, and you could hear ominous groans and growls coming from behind curtains.
“(y/n), can you hear me?!”
daryl’s voice sounded frantic through the static. you could picture him, sitting in the passenger seat of merle’s truck, hand gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles were probably white. you knew he was panicking, probably punching merle’s shoulder to drive faster, to get to you.
“daryl, i—” you started, but gunshots cut through your words. the loud crack of bullets echoed through the hallways. your heart raced as you whipped your head toward the sound, seeing military soldiers in riot gear filing into the hospital, trying to contain what they could.
“shit!” daryl’s voice shouted on the other end, hearing the gunfire through the phone. “what was that?! are you okay?!”
“i don’t know,” you spoke softly, but your voice remained panicked, ducking around a corner as you tried to figure out a way out of the hospital without getting caught in the crossfire. “the military’s here, dar. it’s bad, real bad.”
you could hear merle cursing in the background through the phone, his voice sharp with confusion and fear. he was probably just as pissed as daryl, not wanting to wait around.
“we’re comin’ for ya,” daryl said, his voice firm despite the panic you knew was coursing through him. “jus’ stay where you are.”
“no—” you shook your head, though it was pointless because he couldn’t see you. but you knew that staying in one place would only get you, or them, killed. “it’s not safe here. you need to go, daryl. get outta the city.”
daryl didn’t like how firm your voice was now, like you had accepted your fate. but he also knew you were strong, and you could hold yourself. it was everyone else he wasn’t comfortable with. “i’m not leavin’ without ya!” his words were clipped, but you could hear the desperation seeping through. “jus’ tell me where to find ya.”
“you swallowed hard, ducking down a hallway as more gunshots rang out behind you. “i’ll find you. just go!”
“not an option,” daryl growled, clearly getting more frustrated. “we’re comin’ to get ya.”
“daryl, i swear to god, just go!” you shouted, your voice shaking. you knew you had to make him leave. the city was falling apart, and if he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t make it out alive.
and then, the line went dead.
you stared at the phone for a second, frozen, before shoving it into your pocket. you couldn’t waste time standing there. you needed to survive. you needed to find a way back to him.
the months that followed were a blur. everything crumbled so fast— society, infrastructure, order. the infection spread quicker than anyone had anticipated, and soon, the world was unrecognisable. you’d managed to survive by keeping to the outskirts of the cities, staying on the move, scavenging what you could. it had been a battle to stay alive, but you never stopped thinking about getting back to daryl.
each day, you held onto the hope that he was still out there. that he, and merle, had made it. you had to believe he was still alive. it was the only thing that kept you going.
one day, after weeks of wandering, you had heard rumors from a group of survivors about a camp up near the quarry. a group had settled there, and something in your gut told you to go. you shoved what little you had into your bag and made your way towards the quarry, hoping against hope that daryl would be there.
daryl sat on the outskirts of the atlanta camp, absentmindedly sharpening his knife as he stared out into the treeline. his mind wasn’t on the task though. it hadn’t been for weeks. ever since the outbreak started, ever since he lost contact with you, he hadn’t been able to focus on much of anything.
merle was his usual self— bossy, loud, and always looking for trouble. but daryl? he was quieter these days, more withdrawn. every hunt he went on, he couldn’t stop himself from searching for you, his eyes scanning every inch of the woods, hoping for a glimpse of you.
but every time, he came back empty handed.
he’d given up hope of hearing from you over the phone weeks ago, but he couldn’t give up the idea of finding you. you were out there somewhere— he just knew it.
“hey! you gonna sit there all damn day, or you gonna help me with this firewood?” merle’s voice cut through his thoughts, causing him to grit his teeth and ignore his older brother. he was tired of merle’s shit.
daryl stood up, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder without a word. he made his way towards the tree line, scanning the area out of habit. the camp wasn’t the safest; no walls, walkers always lurking, and the occasional survivor that would wander too close for comfort, but they had done a good job keeping it secure. for now.
just as he was about to head back, movement caught his eye. daryl squinted, grip tightening on the strap of his crossbow as a figure stumbled out of the woods. for a moment, he thought it was just another survior— a poor soul lost and scared like the rest of them. but then his heart skipped a beat.
it was you.
“(y/n)?” the words ripped out of him before he could stop it, and in an instant, he was running toward you, his legs carrying him faster than he thought was possible. you looked different— thinner, worn down, like you had walked through hell. but it didn’t matter. you were alive.
your eyes met his, and the world around you seemed to fall away. after weeks, months— you weren’t sure. but you had finally found him.
“daryl,” you breathed out, your voice weak but full of relief.
he didn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, holding you tight. you could feel the rapid thump of his heart against your ear, the warmth of his body grounding you in a way nothing else had since the world fell apart.
“i thought i lost ya,” daryl muttered, his voice rough and his breath warm against your neck.
you held him tighter, your fingers gripping the back of his shirt under his crossbow like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart. “i’m here,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “i’m here.”
for a moment, the two of you just stood there, holding onto each other and letting the weight of the time split up crash down around you. all the fear, the uncertainty, the loss— it all seemed to fade in that moment.
when you finally pulled back, daryl kept his hands on your shoulders, like he needed to keep touching you to make sure you were real. his eyes scanned your face, taking in every detail.
“merle?” you asked softly, knowing daryl’s older brother never strayed far from his side.
“he’s back at camp,” his voice steadying. “still a pain in the ass.”
you let out a weak laugh, the sound foreign after so long without joy. “figures.”
“come on,” he said, his hand lingering on your arm as he started to lead you back toward the camp. “you need to get some rest.”
the camp was quiet as the two of you entered, the crackle of the campfire being the only sound besides the soft rustle of leaves. merle spotted you first, his eyes narrowing before recognition flashed across his face.
“well, i’ll be damned,” merle said, leaning back with a grin. “look who finally showed up.”
you met merle’s eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips despite everything. “good to see you too, merle.”
daryl guided you to a spot by the fire, his hand never leaving yours as if he couldn’t bear to let go. you settled beside him, exhaustion finally catching up to you. but for the first time in months, you felt safe. you were with daryl. that was all that mattered.
as the fire crackled in front of you, it’s orange glow casting flickering shadows on your face, you leaned back against a log and let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding. the tension in your shoulders loosened ever so slightly, but the weight of everything you’d been through was still pressed on your chest. your eyes flickered to daryl beside you— his presence was grounding, familiar, something solid in a world that felt like quicksand.
he hadn’t let go of your hand, his rough fingers wrapped around yours as if he was afraid that if he did let go, you’d disappear again. you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way this had all worn on him too. daryl wasn’t one to talk about feelings or admit when things hurt him, but you knew him better than that. the silence between you wasn’t awkward; it was full of unspoken understanding. you had both lost too much to let go of each other now.
merle started to wander off toward his tent, mumbling something about needing sleep. “you two lovebirds catch up,” he teased, but it was half-hearted. he wasn’t cruel like he used to be— at least not to you.
as soon as his brother disappeared into his tent, daryl finally spoke, his voice low, like he was afraid to break the moment. “how’d ya make it?” he didn’t ask out of disbelief, he knew you were tough, but it was out of curiosity, needing to fill in the blanks of your absence.
you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, staring into the fire. the memories of being on your own flooded back; sleepless nights, close calls with walkers, finding shelter in abandoned houses, and the hunger that gnawed at your stomach daily. “i just kept moving,” you shrugged, your words so quiet they were almost drowned out by the crackle of the fire. “after that day at the hospital, i knew i couldn’t stay. i had no idea where i was going though, but i knew i had to keep going.”
daryl nodded, his eyes fixed on you, listening intently. he wasn’t the type to press you fore more details, but you could see the questions in his gaze. you gave him a small smile, trying to ease his worry. “i thought about you every day,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “it was the only thing that kept me going sometimes. knowing you were out there, somewhere.”
you watched as his jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he processed your words. “i looked for ya,” he muttered, his voice rougher than before. “everywhere we went, i looked. really thought i lost ya.” the raw emotion in his voice made your heart twist. you reached out and placed a hand on his arm, squeezing gently.
“you didn’t lose me. i’m right here.”
for a moment, neither of you spoke. daryl’s hand found yours again, his grip firm, but this time it wasn’t just out of fear. it was something more— something unspoken but heavy between you.
“you gonna stick around now?” he asked, his voice quiter than before, almost hesitant. “stay with the group?”
you hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead yet. the idea of settling down in this camp, was both comforting and terrifying. you knew it wouldn’t be the last time you have to move, but you knew one thing for sure— you weren’t about to leave daryl again. “if you’ll have me,” you replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
daryl gave you a quick, almost unnoticeable nod, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “ain’t goin’ anywhere without ya now,” he said gruffly, the tenderness in his words barely masked by his usual demeanour.
the firelight danced in his eyes, and for the first time in months, you felt like you could breathe again. you leaned your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment. his presence was steady and warm beside you, and for the first time since the world had gone to shit, you allowed yourself to feel safe.
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omagpies · 18 days ago
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Recently saw your roleswap AU and I’m loving it! I have a few things I’m curious about:
1. So by my understanding Anya failed her flight certification 8 times and PE was cheap enough to be fine with that? Did she never pass? Makes sense, I’m just kinda clarifying lol
2. Does nurse!Curly also feel like he wants to try something different in his career like in canon? Did he also not have enough savings after PE went under? Did he go to nursing school or did he also fail his entrance exams?
3. What’s Daisuke’s story in this AU? Did his mom push him to go to trade school to become a mechanic? Did he do that on his own and his mom suggested working with PE?
4. It’s so interesting to me that Anya tried E-dating after getting back to earth and seemingly got rejected based on her appearance, poor girl :( but I’m kinda wondering about Curly’s perspective on this, did he have feelings for Anya while she was E-dating and just sucked it up for her?
5. I’m kinda curious about Curly and Anya’s relationship pre-crash, was it a little bit flirty like in canon? Did Anya try to approach Curly with what Jimmy was doing or was the blackmail powerful enough for her not to say a peep to anyone?
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haha gonna answer all of these at once! but first here's something on 5 :)
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she never passed the Official Legit certification but passed what counts for it in PE (so, certified only to fly PE vessels) and kind of sees it as her last chance to make it as a pilot. still hopes to get properly certified one day, working at PE to make the money for simulator hours and exam fees
curly actually went to a med school on a football scholarship but had to drop out about two or three years in because he started prioritising studies over practice and the money got pulled. used the money he had left to switch tracks and certify as a nurse. joined PE because space travel sounded fun but is pretty bored of it because he doesn't get to do much on a regular haul. he isn't quite as existential in this regard as canon curly because working in a people-oriented nurturing profession actually makes him feel useful, he just wishes he could be more useful ya kno? has enough savings to be able to rent a place and find a job at a hospital, so overall it all kinda works out for him if you don't count all the horrors
i think in this au daisuke's mother actually pushed him to intern as a mechanic a few years earlier than in canon, which is how he met swansea (pilot with engineering background) and got inspired enough to go into trade school. by the time the events of the au begin he is a certified mechanic though not with a lot of experience :"3
curly has had the biggest fattest crush on anya almost the entire time of knowing her (i feel like he kinda spawns in already in love with anya), so her E-dating phase is kinda rough on him (like, Very rough; mans full on wasting away from his heart getting broken in tiny ways a hundred times a day), but he is king of denying himself and putting others first so he does his best to be A Good And Supportive Roommate about it. he even tries to date other people too! but with not nearly as much gusto and it never goes far. he is too whipped
there was definitely Something. i'll expand on it a bit more in a later ask i got about captain anya, but the tldr is that she goes to great pains to Act Professional and curly is never in a million years going to confess anything. and then jimmy's arrival blows it all up and any kind of romance plummets down everyone's lists of priorities. and anya never tells curly anything -- this is her problem to deal with, and with him being jimmy's friend there is a tiny part of her that is afraid of not being believed even though she overall thinks he's a good guy :")
anya writes all kinds of things, but it's all fiction. she dabbles in poetry, but her two main points of focus in prose are a) long meandering stream of consciousness type of pieces that span generations and have very convoluted plots and interpersonal relations (think woolf's waves meets one hundred years of solitude), inspired largely by the time she had to lie there and do little more than drift in and out of delirium and think, and b) shameless smut that starts out as your run of the mill romance and suddenly changes genres halfway through (funny how life can just Change all at once huh). she never really gains a Massive audience but does have a considerable number of dedicated fans of both categories
(more roleswap au)
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nearlydawn · 3 months ago
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nights like this.
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⋆ pairing: josh washington x fem!reader ⋆ genre: fluff ⋆ warnings: no y/n, just slight flirting, mutual pining, before prologue ⋆ wc: about 3.1k ⋆ note: not proofread, expect part two ⋆ requested: no
masterlist ⋆ about ⋆ ask
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tuesday, 7:56 pm.
both you and josh had been planning this night for what felt like weeks—a movie night. to be frank, neither of you are very coordinated when planning hangouts, but when you stepped inside and saw nothing laid out—blankets, snacks, drinks—or even a recorded movie ready—you knew this was going to be a mess, a small frown tugging at the corners of your lips.
sometimes things are better done spur of the moment! josh sheepishly let you in, insisting he forgot, but you knew he didn't—he couldn't have. texts back and forth every day talking about how excited you were proved that—not to mention hannah and beth were trying to tidy things up in the living room, waving at you with smiles on their faces. "i'm sorry—really—i'll get popcorn going," he rushed out, shaking his head softly as he made his way into the kitchen. you could've sworn he was blushing. from embarrassment. obviously. you didn't mind in the long run. you were here, and now the party was really going to get started. "it's alright, josh."
-
you sat criss-cross on the washington’s couch, remote in hand as you scrolled absentmindedly through the channels. josh, on the other hand, was in the kitchen whipping up popcorn. you were supposed to be looking for movies… but nothing seemed to be on tonight. nothing interesting, at least. it bored you to the point you were lost in thought while clicking the down button. their house was one you'd been in many times, and honestly you treated it like your own—albeit a bit better since you wanted to make a good impression. every time you arrived you just felt an immense sense of comfort, like you were wrapped in a warm blanket the second your foot hit the hardwood floor. but i guess that's just the effect the washington's have. on everything, really. whenever you get texts from them you're unable to hide the smile from your face.
the subtle pops and snaps of the kernels filled your ears, as well as the overwhelming smell of butter. it was a nice contrast to the frustration you were feeling... just seeing the same shit as you switched channels—almost to the point where you just wanted to take that dumb, plastic remote and throw it at the screen. deep breaths, you said. just take a deep breath.
click after click, channel after channel, nothing. the only things coming up were reality tv, animal planet—hell, judge judy. honestly, you could've settled for something dumb like 'ridiculousness' or 'the impractical jokers', but you desperately wanted to find a horror movie. you know. that cliché movie scene where the girl clings to the guys arm helplessly as she pretends to be scared—nuzzling her face into his shoulder to 'hide' from the absolute terror on screen. and then the boy consoles her, telling her that there's nothing to be afraid of, but deep down the girl just wanted an excuse to be by him. -
“aye, ya find anything?” he walked up behind you, a dopey grin on his face. his hands rested just behind your head, leaning on the couch. his voice broke you out of your small fantasy... unfortunately. you glanced behind yourself, thumb still auto-pressing like a zombie. “nope. no luck,” you sigh, scrolling so far you reached static.
“mm, well, i'm pretty sure i have dvds lying around somewhere,” he shrugged, patting your shoulder gently as he stepped back.
“now that's more like it.” you smiled with relief, setting the remote down by your side as your hands came to rub your face. "any idea where they are?"
you stood up from the couch, circling it as you followed him back into the kitchen. josh hummed softly, trying to think whilst pouring the popcorn into a medium sized tin bowl.
“they’re either in my room or my sisters, i’d assume,” he concluded, shooting you a knowing look. “we’re all movie people.”
you nodded, walking over to the fridge as you grabbed two bottles of water. “i can go check with hannah and beth,” you smiled.
hannah and beth. they had left the living room in silence the second they were done organizing—no hello or hug like usual. it was a bit strange, but you chose not to question it. i mean, they were only helping him, you know.
your hand lingered on the fridge handle for a moment, closing it quietly as you walked back to the couch. the cold of the water bottles were beginning to burn your hand—a sensation you never enjoyed. quickly, you set them down on coasters on the coffee table, wiping the condensation on your pants.
“so you don’t want to come to my room with me?” he teased, following after you as he brought the popcorn out.
“ew, josh,” a slight scoff escaped your lips, faint blush dusting your cheeks. “i’d much rather talk to your sisters.”
you feigned annoyance, but the smile creeping up on your face clearly said otherwise. it was incredibly hard to hide the fact his little comment made your heart race and all of your blood rush to your face.
silence fell between the two of you—a tension filled silence. your heartbeat echoed in your ears, trying to steady your breathing. his eyes scanned over your face, and suddenly the world seemed to stop. the glow of the tv seemed to illuminate his face perfectly—accentuating all his features. it was like he was luring you in. a sort of magnetic pull that just had you absolutely captivated.
conflicting feelings arose in your mind. it was a known fact that you liked josh—but should you act on them? your heart wanted you to walk forward and close the distance, but your mind was unsure. you were good friends, sure, but it was far-fetched to say he felt the same. he was unobtainable in your book.
“suit yourself,” he grinned, shrugging nonchalantly.
the second time you were broken out of your thoughts.
his voice was smooth—the way he replied igniting a spark within yourself. he turned around almost as soon as he spoke, disappearing into the hallway that led to his room. as his footsteps slowly dissipated, you finally exhaled. honestly, you didn’t even know you were holding your breath.
but, did he always look at you like that?
- the walls of their home were decorated in a plethora of family photos, some of just them individually. there weren't many of josh, but the ones they did have up were cute, mostly him as a little boy with a goofy grin on his face. excited about his first day of kindergarten—catching his first fish—all his milestones. you couldn't help but look at all of them as you wandered around in attempt to find hannah or beth. you envied the washington's a bit—a well off family with a big house that just so happened to own an entire fucking mountain, not to mention the lodge and other buildings on that property. (dare i say nepo-children?). no matter how many times you were in that house, you only seemed to remember where hannah's room was, aside from the living room. your footsteps were quiet as you navigated, walking up the staircase with your left hand on the railing. as you reached the top of the steps, you b-lined it to hannah's room, knocking on her door gently. you could the muffled sounds of laughter, followed by soft steps as the door swung open—beth greeted you with a tight hug. hannah was sitting on the floor in front of a line-up of nail polishes. fun! "hey," she grinned as your name fell from her lips, "long time no see! i thought you and josh were supposed to be watching a movie?" she let her hands fall to your sides, holding your arms as she gently shook your body back and forth. "yeah, we were going to—" you smiled, laughing a bit as she took your hand and brought you into the room, "i came to ask if you guys had any dvds. he said they might be in here." the twins shared knowing glances, and they both nodded as they looked back at you—almost in sync. it was scary. were you first hand experiencing twin telepathy? they had a full-on conversation with their eyes alone. "they're in my room, i'll take you." beth took your hand in hers again, leading you out of hannah's room almost as soon as you arrived. you quickly waved to hannah, mouthing 'bye' as you were practically dragged through the endless hallway. a couple turns away and you were in front of her door. a small, mischievous smile tugged at the corner of her lips, glancing between you and the door as she opened it. "can i tell you something?" it came off as a question, but you knew she was going to say it anyway. beth walked straight to her bedside, picking up a stack of movie cases. you stood in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe with you arms crossed. a bit skeptical, you nodded, "of course." she almost seemed giddy at your reply, walking calmly over to you to hand you the tapes. there was an expression you couldn't quite read on her face. it was like she was excited—but also like she wanted to hide it at the same time. your arms opened to take the dvds, holding them to your chest as you read the titles from the top down, slipping the case to the bottom of the stack once you were done. "i'm pretty sure josh has a thing for you," beth started, tucking her bottom lip in between her teeth. she was trying to shut herself up, but honestly she couldn't keep it in any longer. your eyes flicked between the names of the movies and her face, your brows furrowing. she knew something you didn't. "what do you mean?" curiosity laced your voice but your eyes never met. you avoided her gaze. she leaned on the wall beside you, watching as you were suddenly so focused on reading all of the movie titles. "well, for starters, you are the only girl he's ever invited over to the house," beth nodded, sticking out a hand to count how many things she was listing off. she stuck her thumb out. "the only time he ever sees sam and the others are when we go to the lodge or hang out as a group." you hummed a small 'mhm', wanting her to continue. to say you were intrigued would be an understatement—you wanted to hear more, needed to hear more. just a half hour ago you were trying to convince yourself it was too good to be true, and now you weren't so sure. "and, he keeps asking han and i what kind of things you're into." she stuck out her pointer finger.
resting her head on the wall behind her as she looked up at the ceiling, she continued: "he's been listening to a lot of fleetwood mac ever since we mentioned it to him."
a small laugh managed to escape you as you listened to her, followed by a gentle nudge on her part. "i'm serious, i've never heard someone listen to gold dust woman so much!"
“maybe he’s just being a good friend—y’know, i always try to get into—“ beth placed her pointer finger to your lips, a quick and silly way to silence you.
“can you just trust me on this one?” her voice was desperate but playfull, her hand dropping to her hip.
a beat of silence fell between you two. it wasn’t awkward, just giving you time to think about it all. and then it dawned on you.
he’d been flirting with you the entire time.
stolen glances, the way his hand brushed against your own, little presents here and there—everything began to make sense. and you looked like a fool. blush instantly rushed to your cheeks, shaking your head as your eyes met beth’s.
“and you’ve known this for how long?”
“about 4 months. he begged us to not say anything—i swore on my life.”
another beat of silence.
“does josh know that i—“ you began, cut off by beth once more, this time by her words.
“nope, not to my knowledge. unless han said something, he is also oblivious.” she reassured, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“is it as painful as watching chris and ashley dance around the topic?” you questioned, tilting your head slightly with a bashful smile on your face.
“worse, actually, way worse. you guys are always so close to making a move, and then you chicken out.”
you shook your head once more, then glanced back down at the movies. they were all comedy except for one—‘the shining’. you’ve already seen it, quite a few times actually, but it wouldn’t hurt to play it. you politely handed the other movies back to beth, tucking the horror case underneath your arm.
her palm fell from your shoulder, taking the movies into her hands as she returned them to her bedside, then right back to the spot she was standing at.
“okay, but, that still doesn’t explain why he ‘forgot’,” you put air quotes up, “about our hangout today. is something up?”
“well,” she sighed, glancing to the floor before she met your eyes again. “i honestly don’t know. i think you just make him nervous, he was kind of just sitting around fidgeting all day.”
you nodded, butterflies swirling in your stomach. you made josh nervous? hell, he made you nervous. palms all sweaty any time you got too close—your body naturally heating up—not to mention how you always get red in the face when he stares at you for too long.
“promise you won’t say anything.”
“i won’t.”
-
eventually, you had made your way back to the living room, this time ignoring the family photos and instead trying to figure out if you were going to say something to josh. each step you took matched your heart beat, nice and steady. that was until you spotted josh on the couch, eyes closed.
your heart fluttered a bit just seeing him. despite only being apart for a couple minutes, you couldn’t help but miss him. it was a familiar feeling, unfortunately, it came with the burden of having a crush on him.
as if he felt your presence (undoubtedly heard your steps), his eyes opened as he turned his head to look in your direction—immediately sitting up straight with a small smile.
“there she is,” he stood up, walking over to meet you in the middle, “i’m guessing they had the movies?”
“mhm,” you nod, handing him the case. “you’ve seen ‘the shining’ before, right?”
he shook his head, taking the dvd into his hand, examining it. his eyes glanced between you and the writing on the case. "horror?" he questioned, sauntering over to the tv—you followed after. "would you rather watch 'pretty woman' or 'ferris bueller's day off' again?" you teased, leaving him to put the movie in while you sat on the couch, sneaking a few pieces of popcorn. josh chuckled gingerly, popping the disc from the holder straight into the dvd player. you changed the hdmi until it displayed the previews for other movies, signifying that you were on the right one. he strolled back over to you, sitting on the other side of the couch. comfortable silence fell between you two as he skipped the previews, immediately turning the movie on. he seemed invested—which was good—but you were starting to get bored. it was a great movie, don't get me wrong, but having seen it a few times... it just wasn't something that sparked your interest. compared to the other movies, this was the best bet. "scared?" you turned your head to look at him, a small smirk on your face. "need someone to hold onto?" "yes, definitely," he retorted, a dramatic flare grazing his voice. josh almost immediately moved closer to you, your knees touching as his arm hung on the spine of the couch—behind your body, of course. "what would i do without you?" you rolled your eyes, graciously accepting the newfound warmth that spread through your body. yes, from the proximity, but also because your heart was racing once more. he seemed so eager to be beside you. which is a good thing. - minutes passed and you found yourself watching josh's face more than the movie. he was completely entranced—hyper-focused on the screen in front of him, oblivious to your fond eyes examining his every expression. and over that time, your positions had changed. his arm was now resting around your shoulders, pulling you (basically) as close as possible, with your legs touching, both of you glued to each other. you could feel each time he was startled—his body tensing—then relaxing. eventually you decided to watch the movie, your eyes returning to the bloody horror that was being displayed. your head rested on his chest, and you wrapped your arms around his abdomen—a lazy hug, but also because it was more comfortable this way. you swore you could feel his heart rate pick up. "scared?" he mocked, glancing down at you. you scoffed, shaking your head gently against his body. “if anyone’s scared it’s you,” you retorted, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
josh looked back down at you, this time holding the eye contact. both of your eyes simultaneously flicked between the others eyes and lips—the two of you thinking the same thing.
your lips parted almost instinctively, both of you leaning in—
“am i interrupting something?”
hannah’s voice cut through the tension like a knife—neither of you even heard her coming. you sat up quickly, blush evident on your cheeks.
“not at all,” josh replied, his arm still around hour shoulders—he seemed rather calm—but his body was tense against yours.
you didn’t want to admit it, but it was so excruciatingly obvious she interrupted something. with the way she was grinning, she had to have known it too.
a small smile fell on your lips, looking at her, that same mischievous smile that her sister wore was now on her face.
beth was right. you and josh dance around the topic too much—at this point, you need to come up with your own choreography for it. the fact you two almost kissed—faces so close—yet so far.
how long were you going to have to wait for it to happen again?
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thank you all for being so patient while i took my time writing this. pretty sure i experienced writers block lmao? i got kind of lazy halfway through but hope you enjoyed!!! let me know what you think in the comments pretty plzz tried to hurry this shit out like 3 days ago and got bored but now i REALLY had to have it done by today so i could watch arcane s2 LMAOO also i'd like to say that i got my layout inspo from ruewrote, so thank you for having a blog (lol)
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mattslolita · 7 months ago
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animals - m. sturniolo
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in which ... the only time you and your best friend's brother get along is when he's inside of you. ( vampire!matt x black!fem!reader )
warnings ; blood sucking, vampire!matt, smut, oral ( fem!receiving ), fingering, unprotected piv ( wrap it freaks ), creampie, soft!dom!matt
"𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚, 𝒊'𝒎 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒚𝒊𝒏' 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏, 𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆."
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰
most people would think once a monster was revealed to you, the first thing you would do is run — they were all bad, and there was no saving them.
but you weren't so sure about that.
the sturniolo brothers had been your best friends since forever; only, they're forever had been much longer than yours, seeing as they were hundreds of years old.
the sturniolo brothers were vampires.
you were closest to nick out of the three triplets brothers, so he was who ended up telling you first. he had been frightened that you would never speak to them, view them differently — but you knew the boys' hearts, and you knew they would never do anything to hurt you, intentionally. sure now they had been turned into what would be viewed as monsters, but what matters is that you knew them before that.
you stayed around them because one of the other triplet brothers, chris, revealed that having you around kept them in check. making sure they didn't go off the rails and lose their humanity, or just keeping them in line and even going as far as to clean up their mistakes.
leading you to the middle triplet — matt.
you and matt didn't get along whatsoever, and you hated how he could easily get under your skin. in fact, even when you first met he was so arrogant and he made your blood boil with the way he carried himself — it was incredibly distasteful to you and you made sure he knew it.
but matt was also able to ignite a fire inside of you, one that made you question your relationship with him altogether. you also found yourself in certain predicaments, which you nor matt didn't dare speak of to nick or chris. what happened between you and matt those few times shouldn't have happened.
yet you can't stop yourself from feeding into the fire.
like how you currently found yourself on the balcony of some frat house, whilst a party was taking place around you. the triplet brothers came to make sure you'd be okay, plus nick had been talking to one of the frat guys so he was bound to be here.
you needed to take a breather after having escaped a conversation with a douchebag downstairs, who was persistent in trying to get in your pants.
you smoothed out the denim skirt that barely covered your plush, brown thighs and ran a hand through your locs as you let out a huff.
a sudden whoosh sounded from behind you, causing you to whip your head around with a confused expression on your face — had anyone followed you up here?
you walked closer towards the inside of the bedroom, looking around to see if anyone had been lurking or watching you.
once you deemed yourself satisfied with checking, you turned back around only to be met with a hardened chest.
"on the run from someone, y/n?" matt smirks down at you, his tatted arms folded across his chest as he stares down at you condenscendingly.
"why do you care, stalker?" you huff, rolling your eyes as you back up from him, "it's none of your business."
"i saw that idiot down there ya know, tryna talk to you and all," matt tells you, rubbing at his nose with his ringed finger as he continues to stare after you, "bet you liked him flirting with you, didn't you?"
"and what if i did?" you lied, knowing he was trying to rile you up, causing you to furrow your eyebrows at him angrily as he smirked at you once more.
"we both know you must not have, though," matt says, clicking his tongue as he makes his way towards you again, towering over you as you're backed up against the bedroom door, "otherwise you wouldn't be in here with me right now."
you gulped as your heart beat against your chest, realizing how close you both were to each other — this makes matt smirk even wider, having been able to hear your beat as he knows he has this kind of affect on you.
his eyes travel over to the side of your neck, moving your locs to the side as he examines your neck carefully — you watch as his eyes darken, the familiar black veins prominent around his eyes as his fangs bare. you accidentally let out a moan at the sight as matt begins to lean into your neck.
right as you thought he would sink his fangs into your brown skin, he pulls away and the veins go back to normal and he smirks at you.
"for someone who hates me so much, you sure do get turned on from seeing me about to suck the blood out ya neck," matt snickers, his boston accent slipping out as he eyes you down.
"i'm not turned on, that's disgusting," you lie again, narrowing your eyes to slits. you would be lying if you said it wasn't sometimes amusing to constantly play into his little game with you.
"oh really?" matt challenges, putting one hand around your waist and pulling you right up against him. "then why...
his other hand goes down in between your legs, forcing them apart causing you to gasp as it rests on your damp underwear. "...are you fuckin' soaked?"
"for fucks sake," you muttered, before crashing your lips onto his.
matt kissed you back hungrily, his tongue instantly slipping inside your mouth as he hoisted you up with both of his arms, walking you both towards the bed. your tongues fight for dominance as they clash desperately, the adrenaline pumping in both of your bodies as you continue making out heavily.
his hands roam all over your body, lightly squeezing at the flesh of your thighs as he presses his hard on against your throbbing core.
"fuck matt," you whimper, his lips beginning to trail down to your neck as his hand goes back down to where you need him the most.
"gonna let me have a bite to eat, first?" matt smirks against your neck, and you feel one of his fangs graze over your sensitive skin.
"y-yes, please," you beg him.
his ringed finger moves your panties to the side, as he immediately plunges one of his digits inside of your aching cunt — you arch your back and mewl as matt smirks down at you before he bares his fangs, sucking into your neck as he indulges in your sweet blood.
you moan loudly as matt's fingers fuck you whilst he continues drinking your blood, arching your back more and more every time as your nails dig into his back.
"umph matt, fuck, feels so good," you whimper, your lips parted slightly as he continues plunging his fingers in and out of you.
"you taste so sweet," matt pants, having finally come up from your neck.
your blood trickles down the side of his jaw, causing you to moan again before he crashes his lips back onto yours, letting you taste your own blood. you moan into his mouth, as he dominates the kiss and you let his tongue do all the exploring.
you pull away and matt gives you a confused expression before you motion that you want to pull your shirt off — he quickly rips the article of clothing off of you, causing your eyes to widen before you narrow them at him.
"matt, what the fuck?" you sneer at him, but he just shushes you as he adds a third finger inside of you, causing you to moan and arch your back.
"trust me sweetheart, i could buy you another one and more," matt murmurs into your ear, curling his fingers in your g spot, "you close yet?"
"so close," you whine, looking up at him through your lashes as he finger fucks you, "fuck, m'gonna..."
you release all over his fingers, your legs shaking as you let out a lewd moan — matt takes his fingers out of you, licking them clean as he maintains eye contact with you. "can't decide what tastes better, you, or your blood."
"need you to fuck me already," you groan, taking the time to slip your skirt down from under yourself.
"so needy," matt chuckles, spreading your thighs apart further as he slowly descends lower, "for someone who hates me and all."
"shut the fuck up," you spat, narrowing your eyes at him, "i swear you always-"
you let out a loud whine as matt's lips attached themselves to your clit, beginning to suck at the sensitive bundle of nerves.
"fuck, oh my gosh matt," you moan out, his tongue doing figure eights as he eats you out like a starved man.
"so good, always so good angel," matt murmurs into your cunt, sending vibrations throughout your body. his hands grip the insides of your thighs, pulling you closer to him.
"mhm, right there," you moan, chewing on your bottom lip as your back is arched and you grip the sheets beneath you.
matt continues his assault on your cunt with his tongue, all whist keeping eye contact with you — your grip on the sheets was harder as you felt the familiar feeling build up in your stomach once more.
"close again, matt," you breathe out, throwing your head back as he continues pleasuring you with his mouth, "fuck..."
"go ahead sweetheart, give it to me," matt tells you as he comes up momentarily.
he goes back down and continues eating you out, and you can't do anything to stop the loud noises that come out of your mouth — this would be the fifth time you found yourself in the predicament of being under matt sturniolo like this, letting him eat you out even though you hated him.
you'd never stop hating his personality, but you would never get tired of how good he made you feel.
"fuck, fuck, i'm cumming," you moan.
for the second time tonight, you release all over his face, legs shaking once more — he licks up the remainder of what comes out of you, then he comes back up to meet your lips in another kiss. you moan as you taste yourself on his tongue, then your hands find their way down to his pants.
"patience, y/n," matt chuckles, standing up and discarding his shirt and pants quickly.
you ogle at the sight in front of you, seeing the tattoos that litter both of his arms — your eyes widen when his boxers drop, showcasing his hardened cock, the tip leaking with precum. he smirks at you as he strokes himself whilst walking back over to the bed.
"like what you see, sweetheart?" he taunts you, and you roll your eyes as you lay back down, pulling him towards you.
"just fuck me, you dumb fuck," you say, kissing his lips harshly, lightly biting on his bottom lip before releasing it with a pop sound.
he strokes the tip of his cock along your already wet cunt, causing you to whimper as he lets out a grunt at the sensation — then slowly, he enters you causing the both of you to let out a loud moan.
"oh, fuck," matt curses, looking down at you with a darkened expression as he begins fucking into you slowly, "you feel so good."
"shit, go faster, asshole," you moan, nails digging into his back as he speeds his thrusts up.
"whatever you say, angel," matt sneers.
he throws your legs over his shoulders, the new angle making you see stars as he pounds into you — your tits spill out of your bra, bouncing with each thrust he sends your way. matt takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the mound of flesh causing you to moan loudly as your nails rake his back.
"f-fuck, i- hate- you- so- much," you splutter, eyes crossing as he continues to pound into you.
"i know you do, princess," matt moans, drilling his cock into your cervix at a rapid pace.
nothing but the slapping of skin and moans sounded throughout the room, the party long forgotten as two sworn enemies indulge in their craving of each other whilst others danced, blissfully unaware of the lustful event taking place.
"so close, fuck, squeezin' me so tight," matt groans, grabbing on your chin and forcing you to look up at him, "gonna let me fill you up, darling?"
"mhm, fill me up please," you whimper, vision almost going blurry as you struggle to maintain eye contact with him, "gonna cum again, matt..."
"you cum when i tell you to," matt warns, speeding his thrusts ( if it was even possible ), "hold it...fuck..."
his white, hot seed spills out inside of you, painting your walls a creamy white color as he sloppily keeps thrusting — a moan of your name slips past his lips, causing you to moan as cum right after.
your juices mix with each other's as matt fucks you through both of your highs, until he pulls out of you, a wet, squelching sound following as he falls down onto the bed beside you.
matt runs his fingers through his hair as you both catch your breath, and you accidentally find yourself staring at him for longer than usual at his afterglow — his cheek bones were more prominent than ever, even aside from the vampire features he adorned; he was sweaty, but there was a glow that surrounded.
almost making him look full human-like again.
he can sense your stare, but instead decides not to speak on it — he gets up from the bed and walks into the attached bathroom, wetting a towel. you let out a breath as he enters the room again, immediately going to clean you up.
you both are silent as he wipes your legs and thighs, and you watch him contently whilst he finishes cleaning you up — his head shoots up at you, and you feel your cheeks heat up as though you've been caught.
"you're gonna need something to cover that...mark," matt says, motioning to the bite mark he left after having a taste of you.
"i'm wearing my ring," you tell him, holding your free hand up, "it'll heal, remember?"
"right," matt remembers, nodding his head. he tosses you your clothes, then goes into the bathroom with his own.
you find yourself thinking about how you keep letting matt get under skin — then you realize it was because even though he was a dick, he never turned his humanity off. which meant there was still hope for him, and he actually felt things still.
could he possibly have feelings for you?
pushing that thought aside, you pull the last article of clothing back on your body right as matt finishes up inside of the bathroom. he stops and examines you, nodding his head in approval.
"you wanna leave first, or should i?" matt asks you, and you gulp as you look away from him.
"um, i'll go first," you say, giving him one last look before walking towards the door and leaving out of it.
matt watches you leave, crossing his arms across his chest, wondering if there was any part of you that might feel the same way about him, the way that he feels for you.
( lilly's corner 💌 )
i got it wrong gang, matt would deffo be damon ! anyhow, the idea of matt as a vampire lives in my head rent free so here ya go. to my angels @muwapsturniolo , @thenickgirl , @guccifrog , @luverboychris , & @cottoncandyswisherz i love yawlll. and i love all of YOU so much, hope you enjoyed this !💌
@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @mrssturnioloo @mattsturniolosleftnut @sturnprime @thenickgirl @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter @eyeliketoeatpoosay @e1ias3 @sp3aknaur @middlepartmatt @summerssover @riasturns @sturn777 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @pinksturniolo @chrissturniolossidehoe @chris-slut @hoesformatt @raysmayhem-72 @lanas-doll @chrisssluttywaist @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @chaossturns @cottoncandyswisherz
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autisticsupervillain · 1 year ago
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Someone needs to do a thing about Phoenix Wright becoming a Tumblr celebrity/meme in universe, getting treated in a similar way to how we treat Hbomberguy irl. You cannot tell me that Tumblr wouldn't see a lawyer solve a fifteen year old cold case by cross examining a parrot and not immediately declare him our king.
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Werewolf--Sex:
On trial rn and my defense attorney seems to be lowkey flirting with the prosecutor and it's really killing the mood ngl.
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Steelsamuraiass:
OP, your attorney is Phoenix Wright. He's been married to that Prosecutor for fifteen years. I even credits him for inspiring him to take up law in the first place.
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Werewolf--Sex:
Aw, that's actually really sweet.
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Engarde-Simp:
Didn't that guy once solve a fifteen year old cold case by cross examining a parrot?
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Werewolf--Sex:
What?
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Wrightworthkismesis:
Newbies discovering the pure insanity that is Phoenix Wright's career will never not be funny. Your trial is gonna be legendary.
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Engarde-Simp:
Did you really not do any research on your attorney before hiring him?
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Werewolf--Sex:
Doing research rn. This guy's career is insane. Listed in no particular order, my attorney, Phoenix Wright has apparently:
Needed to have evidence law explained to him mid-trial
Proven the existence of ghosts to win his trials(?????????)
Defended an orca in court.
Only lost three times in his entire career (absolutely fucking insane if you know how Japanifornia's legal system is. Tbh, defendants are screwed in our current system.)
Successfully proven that the prosecutor committed the crime his client was accused of by checking him with a metal detector.
Claims to have a magic necklace that can let him see lies??????
Was once nearly taken out by the mafia.
Once got impersonated by a dude with a cardboard badge.
Repeatedly been assaulted by witnesses and even prosecutors? Like, one of them straight up tazed him and he was once apparently whipped unconscious in court???
Survived getting hit by a speeding car and being sent flying, falling through a burning bridge, and all the times he got assaulted.
Also, that description of his relationship with the Prosecution really doesn't do any justice. Apparently, Phoenix only started practicing law so he could meet this man in court again.
Who gave this indestructible homosexual a law degree? He clearly has too much power.
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Sold-To-Gavinners:
Actually! Phoenix Wright is a fraud who got disbarred for forging evidence! I'd really appreciate it if we stopped ignoring all the bad things he did just because he's gay.
#anti-pw #freekristoph #antijurorsystem #anti-matt engarde
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Engarde-Simp:
Of all the Gavins, why'd you decide to simp for the one whose a creepy lawyer serial killer? The other one's the one with the band ya know.
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Sold-To-Gavinners:
Your name is literally Engarde-Simp.
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Wrightworthkismesis:
Wasn't Phoenix blackmailed into that trial and that's why he lost.
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Steelsamuraiass:
Yeah, apparently Matt hired an assassin to kidnap his girlfriend or something.
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Wrightworthkismesis:
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Steelsamuraiass:
Googled it. Apparently it was his co-council. They're just friends from what I can tell.
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Wrightworthkismesis:
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Warewolf--Sex:
Got declared not guilty btw. Apparently the real killer was the Judge.
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OfficialPWPost:
Official Phoenix Wright post.
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ebodebo · 2 months ago
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more bull rider!simon.... MDNI
some context
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"What the hell are ya doin' here?" You hiss under your breath as the wooden bleacher next to you sinks to accommodate Simon's weight. You briefly glance at him before refocusing on the rider in the arena.
The rider in question was a guy you had met while in Wisconsin some months ago. You had found him a little aloof but charming. He had that boy-next-door look—cute face, crooked smile, soft-spoken. 
He was the kind of boy you bring home to your parents—the boy your mother gushes over to her church friends, and your father pats on the back and whispers to your mom, 'Real nice kid.'
It wasn't anything serious between you and the rider. You were strictly friends.
You couldn't see yourself with a cookie-cutter like him.
But Simon didn't know that.
"Just came to watch the show," he casually says; you don't miss the smug tone his words carry. You roll your eyes, hands gripping the edge of the wooden bleachers tighter, even letting out a dry, unamused laugh.
His mere presence annoyed you. 
But his presence in an arena alongside others rattled you to hell.
All eyes were on him. 
They were always on him. 
God knows you despised the man, which was a shame because he was such a good lay. And you hated to admit it, but he was a powerhouse of a bull rider—one of the best in the country.
His skill and charm were undeniable, but his arrogance overshadowed those qualities for you.
These unredeemable qualities you despiesed did nothing to deter everybody and their mothers from moving mountains just to get a glimpse of him.
"Bullshit, Simon," you shake your head, eyes focusing back on the rider. He let out a laugh, scooting himself forward so his back lay against the back of the bleachers. 
"You think I'd lie to ya, Babydoll?" He quipped a self-satisfied smirk on his lips that fiddled with a toothpick between them. You whip your head to face him, eyes widened in amusement. 
"I do, actually," you say, tipping your head towards him. "I know you're here because you heard about him," you casually say, turning back to face the arena. 
"Is that right?" He lazily says, taking the toothpick settled between his lips and twirling it with his finger. 
"Yes," you breathe out, slight annoyance in your tone. "I'm just wonderin' why ya care so much?" He throws his hands up in surrender, making you turn to face him again. 
"Woah, woah. Hold on now," he begins. "Since ya got me all figured out," he pauses, pointing his finger at you. "You tell me." You let out an irritated sigh, hands coming up to rub your eyes and temples.
"You smug bastard," you huff.
"Come on, Babydoll. Do ya really take me for the jealous type?" He probes, pushing the toothpick back into his mouth. 
"Well, ya are a big baby when ya don't get your way," you jest.
"Am not," he quickly supplies with a smile. 
"You sure are, Beef-head," you insist, the corner of your lips pulling into a slight smirk. 
"That reminds me," he leans closer so only you can hear him. "I still haven't forgiven ya for leavin' me high and dry the other day."
"You had that comin,'" you shrug, humor dancing across your face.
"I didn't leave ya on purpose, hon. You planned that attack," he exasperates dramatically.
"Attack? Oh my God. You're so dramatic," you groused.
"Was up all night icin,'" he griped, face contorting at the remembrance of the pain. 
"I doubt that," you roll your eyes, still laughing. "I'm sure you had one of your, what do ya call them? Buckle-bunnies? Tend to ya."
"I don't call them that," he firmly says.
"Sure you don't, Beef-head," you absently agree, eyes locking back to the arena where the rider you were watching stands off to the side.
Your eyes widen, while your mouth hangs open.
"What is it?" Simon's voice is laced with concern. You stand abruptly, gathering your things next to you. 
"You made me miss it," you mutter. 
Simon smiles. "Can't help you didn't wanna look away from me."
"Shut up," you scoffed, though a slight smirk pulled from your lips as you walked away from him, shimming between the people in the bleachers.
Simon couldn't help the smirk that simultaneously pulled at his lips, though it quickly dissipated as he saw you lean over the fence to talk to the bull rider you were so hell-bent on watching. 
The guy's fingers reaching over to straighten your slightly lopsided hat about made Simon reach out to break the very fingers he used.
It didn't matter that there were now about five women surrounding him, showering him with compliments. All he felt was a pang of heat in his chest, like a knife turning in a fresh wound.
He'd be damned if he let this cheesehead take his girl. 
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"Hey, Simon. Is that—" One of the cowboys with Simon questioned, as he dipped his head towards you, barreling towards the pen he was in, anger written all over your face, crushed magazine in hand. 
"Sure is," Simon smirked, tongue poking into his cheek with amusement. He dismounted from the horse, taking his hat off as he approached you. "Hey, Babydoll. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"What the hell is this?" You grit, shoving the magazine in his face. 
"Looks like a tabloid," he simply says.
You pull the magazine back, reading the front cover. "Acclaimed bull rider Simon Riley trades rodeo for romance as he's seen cozied up with a local country girl as PBR tour starts to wrap up in Texas," you snap. 
"Why on God's green Earth is this sayin' we're datin','" you say through gritted teeth. 
"Simple. I told them we were," he shrugs.
"You did what?" You bark, face burning in anger. 
"Eh, my publicist wanted me to chat with some news station, and they asked about ya," he plainly says. 
"What exactly did you say?" You urge impatiently. 
"That we were involved," his voice was full of unambiguity.
"You—you're a damn, a damn—" You drift off, voice searching, unable to even conjure any words. 
"Come on, Babydoll. Don't get so bent out of shape. Technically, we have been involved," he gruffs, eyebrows raising cheekily.
Oh, so he thinks this is all some big joke.
You grip the collar of his simple white shirt, pulling him down to eye level. "Ya better get on your knees and pray that this hasn't reached the townsfolk yet," you snarl. "Or, with God as my witness, I will snip your balls off just like one of those damn steers."
You let go of him roughly, shoving him back slightly, turning on your heels to leave, yelling back, 'Get your fancy PR team to deal with this, Dumbass.'
This is followed by many snickers from the other cowboys still in the pen, who have witnessed the show that was you snapping Simon into place. 
"Well, hell, Simon, you didn't tell us you got yourself a little firecracker," one of the other cowboys roars, hitting Simon in the chest playfully when he returns to them.
"She ain't no firecracker. She's a damn stick of dynamite," Simon remarks, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. 
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It had been two weeks or so since you had last seen Simon. And, along with him, that tabloid bullshit had since gone dormant. You had to hand it to him, he made the whole story disappear into thin air. 
Well, with the help of his many connections. 
The air felt crisp and refreshing, not having that asshat around to taint it. You could get used to this. Hell, who knows, maybe you would never have to see the smug bastard again.
"Hey, Babydoll," Simon quips. "Long time, no see."
You spin on your heels, turning to him, a mixture of surprise and annoyance evident in your expression. 
"Why are you back in town?" You exasperate.
"Finals," he states, his eyes glinting with determination. 
"You actually qualified?" You snarkily remark, eyes finally taking note of his chaps, padding, and mouthguard hanging out of his mouth by his teeth.
"Babydoll, I'm not just good; I'm one of the best damn riders in the country," he proclaims with a confident smirk. 
You roll your eyes. "And a humble one at that," you say, eyes wondering behind him to see one of your friends in the audience waiting for you.
“Break a leg, Beef-head," you quickly spew, patting him on the chest before you walk away. 
"See, I have a gut feelin' you really do want me to break a leg," he yells back to you. 
"Always trust your gut," you exclaim, not sparing him a glance as you approach your seat. 
He smiles before making his way to the arena, but not before glancing at you one last time on the bleachers before securing his helmet on and going straight into the fray.
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You shouldn't even be surprised. 
Not even a little bit.
Simon's victory was not just a win but a triumph that catapulted him to the pinnacle of bull riding. Now, he was one of the most sought-after bull riders on the planet, a title that came with a deluge of attention. 
You begrudgingly expected that. 
But you didn't foresee the enthusiasm of the women attached, each making a bold attempt to catch Simon's eye. Dressed to the nines, they were all vying for even a moment of his attention.
You thought you should at least congratulate him a little, so you walked over to the gate where he would leave, but hell, it seemed you weren't the only one. 
These women were not just there; they were making an effort. They batted their lashes, puckered their lips, and pulled their tops slightly lower, hoping to catch his eye.
To his credit, he was too consumed with the numerous news outlets and interviewers shoveling microphones and cameras in his face and asking him how it felt to receive this distinguished honor to notice them. 
Well, until his publicist pulled him away from the throng of people, guiding him quickly out of the arena. All of the women immediately surrounded him, showering him with compliments, fingers delicately running across his biceps. 
"You did so good, Si," one woman mewls.
"How you gonna celebrate your win, Bigboy?" Another woman coos, lashes fluttering. 
"I'm sure he has big plans," the first woman answers, eyebrows raising.
It was pathetic, but you couldn't pull your attention away. 
As the women surrounded him, their flirtatious gestures and polished nails caressing him, you felt a sinking sensation in your stomach. You couldn't understand why, but the longer they lingered, the more you struggled to tear your gaze away.
His cheeky smirk only made it worse. It was clear he was reveling in the attention. It felt like a betrayal, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy and anger. 
You were thinking of simply walking away, your head already clearing at the thought of not seeing him for a while, until one of the women leaned in to press a lipstick-covered kiss to his lips. 
Before you knew it, your feet were moving, and you were pushing through the women to get to him. You grabbed his hand, your grip tight with desperation, and pulled him away.
His eyes lit up when he saw you, and his hand returned the contact and wrapped it around yours tightly. 
"Where we goin', Babydoll?" He coaxed, with a flirty undertone. 
You don't respond; you move faster toward the line of portable restrooms behind the bleachers. Many Patreons attempt to talk to Simon on the way, but you don't stop, and he doesn't either.
Once you reach one of the vacant portable restrooms, you quickly twist the latch, open the door, and pull Simon inside swiftly. You reach behind him and twist the lock to show that the stall is occupied.
Your hands were racing, fingers reaching to undo each button on his long sleeve.
"Thought you were pissed at me?" He murmurs. And, fuck does it tick you off because you can just hear the smugness in his tone. You look up at him; his pupils have dilated. 
"I am," you grit, hands moving to unclasp his buckle.
"Not too pissed to sneak me off to have sex. Huh?" He tuts, his hands moving to unclasp your belt, slipping your denim jeans down.
"Stop talkin,'" you snarled. He smirks, dipping his head to meet your lips. You turn away slightly, hands haphazardly moving to grab a piece of toilet paper and swiping it across his lips to get rid of the lipstick smudged.
He lets out a dry laugh, gripping the waistband of the underwear, snapping the band of your underwear back onto your sensitive skin. In response, you let out a breathy whine, hands gripping his shoulders tightly.
"Oh. I see," he begins, quickly slipping his hat off to hang on the hook by the toilet, bringing his lips to run across the skin of your neck lightly. "You markin' your territory, Babydoll?" He whispers; his hot breath fanning your skin sends shivers down your spine.
One of your hands moves to thread through the back of his light hair, gently tugging on the roots, while the other moves to rest on the back of his neck. "And, if I am?" You whisper.
He pulls you closer to him, his clothed cock pressing against you.
"It's about damn time," he sneered, as his teeth lightly nipped the skin on your neck. You issue a breathy moan directly in his ear that sets him off.
In one swift motion, he pulls down his jeans and boxers frantically, desperate to feel you around him. He's sliding down your underwear so it pools around your ankles, gripping you by the back of your thighs, picking you up before easing himself into your dripping cunt. You're quick to cross your ankles behind his back. 
You both moan at the contact as your lips find his greedy ones. Your teeth are clashing, chest heaving as he drills into you, all while his tongue tangles with your own, teeth occasionally tugging on your own.
His fingers are digging deeply into the meat of your thighs—you're sure to have bruises tomorrow, but you don't care, not even a little bit, because you couldn't even stop even if you wanted to; it felt too good.
"Fuck, Baby. I've been—ah—thinkin' about this for weeks," Simon groaned into your lips, as his pace picked up. "Needed you so bad."
You let out a moan that he catches in another groan. His lips move to press deep kisses onto your neck, even licking a stripe with his tongue, all the while movements only increase in speed.
"I'm—I'm so close," you whine, already feeling your impending orgasm approaching. 
"I know, Baby. I know," he grits through his teeth as he feels his orgasm near. 
He plows into you one last time before you both come simultaneously, him groaning into your skin, as you moan into his hair. You take a second to recuperate, legs slightly shaky as he sets you back on the ground.
"You know everyone saw you drag me in here, right?" He leers, pulling his boxers and jeans back up and clasping his belt.
Your eyes widen. You hadn't even thought about what you were doing, you had just reacted. "Shit," you exasperate. "The tabloids are goin' to have a field day with this. I don't—"
He tips his head towards you, bending down to ease your underwear and jeans back on. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it," he plainly says.
You release a received sigh. "Thanks. I appreciate that, Beef-head."
"Welcome, Babydoll," he smiles as he buttons his shirt.
A brief pause occurred in the conversation as you both finished dressing. As Simon placed his hat back on, his eyes locked back to yours, a smirk growing on his lips.
"Now will ya let me take ya out to dinner?" He asked with a playful tone. 
You titled your head to the side, letting out a dry laugh. "You askin' me on a date?"
He shrugs. "Suppose I am," he begins. "What do ya say?"
You press your finger to your chin, an inquisitive expression on your face. "I say no."
His expression twists in confusion, maybe almost hurt. "No?"
You laugh, hand coming to rest over your heart in amusement. "I'm just busting your balls, Beef-head. I'll go on the date with ya," you cackle.
He lets out a deep sigh of relief, muttering, "Hell, you're gonna be the death of me."
Maybe this entanglement you found yourself in with Simon wouldn't be so bad after all.
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a/n: thank u for the submission and ur kind words! i hope u like what i cooked up:)) side note, my bestie queen, @artemis-b-writes , helped me in making this! this also became longer than i originally intended, but oh well! also, divider!
reblogs & comments are encouraged!
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uhohdad · 7 months ago
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(18+) ♡König♡ Voiceline Inspired Drabbles
“Who else is with you?”
Jealous!König Shows Ghost Who Reader Belongs To
WARNING: ABUSIVE & NON-CONSENSUAL THEMES
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“I can hear them with you, don’t even think about lying.”
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
Your response was meant to sound nonchalant, but it comes out wavered and squeaky. Shaking fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt.
“Who is it?” König demands, but you both know he already knows the answer.
“It’s- it’s just the guys,” You mumble into your phone, shoulders braced and lips pulled back in unease.
“Of course it is. Is Simon there?”
“Who ya talking to, bonnie?” Soap asks, and you give him a panicked push on his chest in an effort to shut him up.
“Come home, right now.”
König’s tone leaves no room for argument. Grit and threatening, it sends a chill down your spine and raises the hairs on your neck.
Your lips part to speak, stammering through your sentence.
“I- I’m not driving, I cant-”
“You have twenty minutes.”
The line cuts off, the phone shaking in your rattling hands as you pull it in front of your face, staring at it with wide eyes.
“Simon,” You utter, “You have to take me home, now, please.”
The car goes silent, the light atmosphere sucked from the car the moment your frantic words cuts through.
“What’s wrong?”
“I- nothing,” You say, eyes darting to the side, “Just-”
You cut yourself off, debating whether or not you should tell the truth, scrambling for an excuse, but your mind draws a blank.
“You have to take me home.”
“Lover boy?” Simon asks.
Your silence confirms his suspicion. You wince, knowing this is being filed in his ever-growing ‘Reasons to Hate König’ folder.
“Simon, please,” Your plead is made of only breath, fingers fidgeting beyond control.
Simon says nothing, the car suffocatingly silent. He continues driving, not so much as activating his turn-signal.
Your voice picks up vigor, the desperation palpable, “Simon- Simon, please. Take me home.”
“No.”
The car sucks in a collective breath, only the hum of the engine filling the taut, awkward air choking you all.
“Simon,” You whine, your eyes pinch shut and your hand rests on your collarbones, “Please.”
Soap raises a brow, lost, “What’s wrong?”
“Lover boy doesn’t like it when our dove has a good time,” Simon answers gruffly.
You unclip your seatbelt, sticking your head in between the two front seats.
“Simon, you have to take me home, now, please.”
He says nothing, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Simon!”
Without thinking, your trembling hand darts out to grab the steering wheel.
“Sit back!” Simon demands, the car swerving in its lane as he bats your hand away.
The sudden harshness in his voice makes you flinch, eyes wide and your hand retracting to your chest. It is not a request between friendly co-workers after hours, it is an order from your Lieutenant.
“Now,” He says, glaring you down in the rearview mirror.
At once you shrink in on yourself, shoulders slouching and eyes fixated on your shoes as you sit back in your seat.
The burn of Soap’s stare is searing, he’s looking for an explanation, but you can’t meet his eyes, too busy swallowing the shame of Ghost’s scolding and the fear of your boyfriend’s fury. Your stomach is twisted in knots, breaths shallow and knee bouncing to expel the nervous energy.
When Simon pulls into the pub’s parking lot, you whip your phone from your pocket as you scramble to order a ride, but Simon snatches your phone from your hands and ignores your objections.
“Simon, please! You don’t know what you’re doing!”
“I’ll handle it,” Simon grits without looking over his shoulder.
He gives you a look piercing enough to make your knees knock together. You swallow, unable to find the strength to argue.
After a few drinks, the energy of the group has relaxed, but you’re still fidgeting, darting your eyes around and trying to keep the beer in your stomach instead of throwing it up from pure nerves.
You freeze when you see him yank open the pub’s door, hard enough he nearly rips it off the hinges. Your heart stops, your mouth parts, wide eyes locked onto him. He scans the pub for a moment before he finds you, wearing those scary, half-lidded, dangerous eyes that bore into you. From across the pub, his stare makes your stomach twist, and you have to stifle the urge to claw your way free from the booth and flee from predator eyes.
König crosses his arms over his chest, and tilts his head at you. An impatient finger taps his opposing bicep. Even from the other side of the noisy room, his message is clear.
‘I’m waiting.’
You swallow and look to the sticky tabletop, both your knees and your voice trembling when you speak.
“I gotta, I gotta run to the bathroom,” you mumble to no one in particular, shimmying awkwardly from the booth.
“König,” You start once in range, “I can explain, please, just let me-”
You cut yourself off with a gasp when he snatches you by the wrist with a crushing grip, forcing you to stumble over your own feet as you’re dragged out of the bar and along the sidewalk.
“König, please- I tried, I swear I tried, Simon just-”
König’s other hand grabs you by the waist with enough strength that bruises are surely to bloom at his fingertips. He ignores your writhing and winces of pain when he pushes you up against the pub’s dingy alleyway, blocking you in with his massive frame. His voice is hissed, his eyes devoid of any emotion other than rage.
“I don’t ever want to hear his name again. You understand me, little one?”
You choke, sputtering and stammering out syllables that will never get flushed out into sentences as his eyes narrow at you. Your body curls in on itself as he towers menacingly over you, his size alone more than enough of a threat to keep you compliant.
You nod, shaky but quick.
“Say it,” He growls.
“I understand,” You answer, just a squeak with words warbled in.
“Good,” He says, but you can tell by his tone he’s still not appeased.
A hardened hand snatches your wrists, pinning them to brick. Another yanks at the waistband of your jeans, ignoring your objections and your squirming legs.
“König, no! Here?” You whisper frantically, head whipping around to search for watchful eyes.
“You had the opportunity to come home. And you chose not to.”
He leaves no room for argument, a boot coming up to step on the pants bunched at your mid thigh, forcing them entirely to the ground when he plants his sole back on the concrete. You obey when he nudges you to suggest you free your ankle, and he wastes no time taking his cock from his pants.
You whimper when he presses himself to your panties, nestling between your lips with a grind.
He laughs, low and sinful in your ear.
“Already fucking wet, schlampe?”
A raspy grunt leaves him as he ruts his swollen cock against your panties.
“Just a little hure, whoring herself out for every man who pays you attention.”
You shiver at the vibration of his words against your chest, the tickle of his breath on your ear.
“Guess I’ll just have to remind you who you belong to.”
With your wrists pinned to the brick above your head, his other hand snatches your jaw with a tight grip. He forces your head to the side, sinking his teeth into the sensitive, exposed flesh of your neck. You can’t help the strangled cry that leaves you, and the hand on your jaw quickly covers your mouth, muffling your wails with his calloused palms as he leaves imprints of his bites on your skin.
He laughs into your slobbered skin, kissing over the tender indents in your flesh.
“Don’t worry little one,” He coos in a sickly sweet voice, “It’ll be over soon.”
Your whimper is stifled by his hand, but he gives your voice back when he reaches down to yank your soaked panties to the side.
“But you still need to learn your lesson, ja?”
He lets out a groan when the tip of his enraged cock swipes along your slick cunt.
“König, please,” You whine on a shaky exhale.
“Sh, sh, sh.”
König grinds between your lips, coating himself in your arousal before lining himself up. He is by no means patient, bullying half of his cock inside of you on his first thrust. Your head lulls forward, sniveling in his hold as your cunt stretches around his greedy cock.
He grunts through clenched teeth, pulling himself from you only to thrust mercilessly back in.
“Take this cock like a good girl,” He grits.
He finds a steady pace, hardly letting you adjust to his size before he’s fucking more of himself into you, your arousal soaking his throbbing cock.
“You want to act like a hure, hm?”
He leans in, letting go of your wrists to pick you up by your thighs, and gives you a stint of particularly brutal thrusts, your tits bouncing degradingly against your ribcage as he fucks you further into the bricks.
He snarls at you.
“Then I’ll treat you like a fucking hure.”
With your hands free, you’re clawing at him, trying to expel the overwhelming sensation of him robbing you of your tight, sensitive cunt. White knuckling his shirt and digging into his chest with your finger nails, pathetic whimpers leaving your lips.
“See? You can barely handle me, hure. You don’t need anyone else.”
You suck in a sharp breath when you hear bootsteps echoing at the end of the alleyway.
Sprung eyes lock with Simon, standing still in his spot, watching you get pounded against the wall.
König laughs, low and truly gut-wrenching. He doesn’t even have to look to know Simon’s there. As soon as he’s aware of his presence König doubles the pace of his thrusts, forcing his entire cock into you and filling you to the brim with each bottom out. His brute cock, his mound slapping against your clit, it turns your moans choppy and unrestrained as you succumb to the pleasure, the pain, the humiliation of knowing your Leuitenant has a front row seat to your punishment, watching König demean you and have his way with you.
You’ve gone entirely limp in his hold, intoxicated and cockdrunk, only able to focus on his ruthless cock ravaging your dripping cunt, the feeling of being stretched and filled, the burning eyes of Simon at the end of the alley.
“Alles meins,” He growls strictly, “Got it? All mine.”
You nod, stuttered moans pouring from your lips without thought. His grip on the back of your thighs tighten painfully in threat.
“Say it.”
“A-All yours!” You cry, lulling your head against the brick in defeat.
The pleasure is building in your lower abdomen, an electric and exponential euphoria taking control of your body, every muscle tensed and shaking.
“Tell your Lieutenant who you belong to.”
You twitch in his hold as he pushes you over the edge, not letting up in the slightest, cruelly abusing your g-spot as he works out every last wave of your overwhelming finish.
“König!”
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♡ Jealous!König Makes A Bet With Reader ♡
♡ König Drabble Masterlist ♡
Dividers by the lovely @strangergraphics
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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago
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leopard print.  
4.5k, joel x f!reader; special guest in tags
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SUMMARY: Depraved, overdue one shot for this blurb. Joel mistakes you for a sex worker, offers you a ride, Fs you, shares you and is mildly possessive about it.
WARNINGS: I8+ strangers, drugs, talk of sex work, unsafe public P in V, dubcon (drugs/alc, not noticeably intoxicated), cockwarming, degradation, pantygagging, creampies, car stuff, orgasm delay m, vaginal plugging, voyeurism, sharing. Unedited. 
A/N: Night walks vibes, but different too. You'll see. New fantasy for myself 😫
"And if I was workin'?" You ask.  He gives a low whistle. "Wouldn't know where to start," he murmurs. "But I can tell ya how it'd end." He looks at your skirt. . . "She'd be wrecked n' beggin' for more, baby." Your fingers absentmindedly graze your chest. . . He sticks the joint in his mouth and shamelessly adjusts himself with both hands, tucking it into his waistband.
You pull into the gas station on the back of your friend's motorcycle. "When I fuel up, I'm outta here," he warns you.  Oh well. If you have to walk back to your friend's condo, it's only two blocks.  He's grumpy – You and your girlfriends have been a hot mess at the pool all day playing floating beer pong and licking alcoholic whipped cream off each other.  He didn't wanna take you with him in the first place. No helmet, no reasonable shoes, not even a shirt.
You swing your leg off the motorcycle and as you step down onto the ground with your red wedges, you adjust your cheap, stretchy leopard print miniskirt. It matches, or clashes, with your leopard print bikini. You leave your sunglasses on as you enter the gas station with a chime. You fish a damp $20 out of your bikini top and survey the snacks. 
You feel someone lurking nearby, but ignore it until you hear a deep, smooth voice.  "Nice rosettes."
"s’cuse me?" 
You turn only slightly toward the man. Maybe homeless.  Good looking like a washed up rockstar. He gestures toward your bikini top. "That's a nice set'a rosettes." You look down at your tits spilling out of your push-up bikini top, then you look back at his face. Handsome man, really. Salt and pepper beard. Full head of dark hair with a little gray. Sunkissed skin. His eyes are kind and glassy. His nose twitches. "Oh, that's what leopards call their spots. Rosettes."  
You laugh uncomfortably. 
“Yeah, the ones on your top, those are pretty good.” His eyes drift down your body. “Skirt doesn’t really have’em right. Still nice though.” 
"Thanks." You politely nod and return to looking at the snacks, ignoring him in the corner of your eye. 
He doesn’t leave. He only gets closer.  He looks you up and down and steps into your personal space. He lowers his voice.  "You, uh, workin'?"
No, you don't work there. Do you look like you work at the gas station? Your stomach turns as you realize what he means, and your face goes cold. You stare at him, and your eyes drift to a hole in his shirt right below the collar. "Am I WHAT?" You ask incredulously, but trying to be quiet. Your whole body feels hot at the implication. You're humiliated, but for some reason it makes you warm between the thighs, too. 
His eyes go wide, and he puts his hands up in surrender. "Sorry," he mumbles, then adds, "A man can dream,” as he backs away. 
Your heart races and flutters and you scold yourself for being flattered.  You end up in line behind the guy. And the line takes forever, giving you plenty of time to fume and also wonder about him. It's nothing against sex work – Work is work. But you'd like to think you wouldn't be picking up a rough looking guy in a gas station.  Your friend's motorcycle revs outside. You look out the window and he's there by the curb waiting for you. You could drop the snacks on the closest rack and get the heck out.  But for some reason, you stay in line, and not because you’re that hungry. 
Someone needs to scoot behind you and you're forced to step into the sleazy man's personal space. He smells far better than you would have imagined. Woodsy and fresh. Somehow that makes all the difference, like he's not a filthy vagrant after all. He just had the aesthetic. Which is kinda hot.  Your friend on the motorcycle shakes his head, revs his engine again, then drives away.
"Asshole," you mutter.  
The man in front of you (your aspiring john) glances back and again mutters, "sorry." He scratches the back of his neck and exposes a chain under his ratty t-shirt. He really does have a nice head of hair, and now you see there’s a joint behind his ear, too.  Maybe he’s just a hippy. 
"Not you," you mumble. Well, not only him. Both of them. 
He turns to face you. "I know. Saw ya roll in." Great, so he thought that was your pimp. "Want a ride?" 
"Nah, I’m close," you mutter without looking right at him, then mumble, “thanks.” 
He wets his lips and stares at your chest for a moment before adding, "ya sure?" And now that you know this man smells good, wears a chain, and has a ride, you're throbbing. You cross your arms and bite your lip looking at his handsome nose while his kind eyes search yours in anticipation. 
"Okay," you whisper.
"Hell yeah," he whispers back with half a smile, getting a little closer, like the two of you are plotting something. 
"But I'm not workin'," you remind him.
"Heard ya the first time, gorgeous." He winks at you.
He tries to buy your food for you. When you don't let him, he nods with a smirk. He crosses his big arms, plastic bag that reads “thank you” hanging from one of them, and waits for you. Then he holds the door open on your way out. 
He checks you out as you pass through the door frame. You take your sunglasses off and put them in the bag with your snacks. 
"Name's Joel."  When you don't tell him yours, there’s a new smirk in his voice when he says, "don't gotta tell me your real name, if ya got a street name or somethin'. . ." 
"Jerk." You punch his arm and mostly suppress a laugh. 
He smiles and brings a massive hand to his bicep to pretend like it hurts, and for the first time it hits you how muscular he is.
"Truck's around back." He nods toward the back of the store. He walks slightly behind you. You feel his eyes boring a hole in your ass. Then you feel the warmth of his massive palm on the small of your back and he gets closer to you as he curves his hand around your side. "Too damn hot, baby. Had me thinkin' with my dick is all." Your face heats up and you glance at him. “I’ll carry that for ya.” He takes your bag. 
He's parked around a corner out of view. Between some bushes and a closed library for some reason. His truck is nice, and it's big. Tinted windows. The back window of the cab says Miller Brothers.  It's sunset, so you're grateful for the ride, lest any other low lifes make the same mistake on your walk back. When y'all get to his truck, he lets his hand slide down your hip. He opens the driver’s seat and puts the bags inside. Then he leans against his truck and adjusts himself. He's wearing pinstripe lounge pants.  "Can't really blame me, can ya?" He raises his eyebrows. He scans you top to bottom again.  "God damn, baby." 
You laugh and look down shyly, unsure whether to thank him. His eyes don't leave your body at all.  "To be fair, I thought you were homeless," you admit. 
He exhales a laugh and shrugs.  "Where ya headed?"
"Back to my friend’s pool."
"Hungry?"
"Nah."
"Smoke?" So that’s why you’re still outside the truck. You shouldn't, but you hesitate curiously.
You lean against the bed of his truck with your elbow resting on its edge, facing him.
"Fuck you're sexy," he mutters to himself. "Helluva rack but I'm an ass man, c'mere."
He turns toward you so he's leaning with his left side on the driver's side of the truck. He puts his right hand on your hip, rotating you so you're facing the truck. "Mmmmm." He puts his hand on the small of your back again, then slides it down–slowly, experimentally, cautiously enough for you to stop him. You don't. You're throbbing.  He grabs your ass–his palm is huge. You glance at him and watch his eyes study the curve of your body. Deep down in your body, you know you're gonna fuck him. You both know it. With his left hand he retrieves the joint from behind his ear and puts it in his mouth unlit. 
He sucks in a breath around the joint and lifts the flesh of your closest ass cheek. When he lets it drop, a growl escapes his chest. 
He fishes a lighter out of his soft pants pocket and lights up. and as he inhales, once again he can't keep his eyes off your body.  He takes the joint out of his mouth and turns your face toward his. You rotate toward him and he gets close, your bodies almost touching. He looks to your eyes for permission and begins to slowly exhale downward, so it's yours if you want it. You bring your mouth closer to his and he angles the smoke more toward your mouth as you suck it up. The moment seems to last forever and your lower belly is on fire. 
The sunset washes everything in a pink hue. When his lungs are empty, he murmurs "good girl" and rests his hand on your hip, lightly running his palm over your stretchy little miniskirt, feeling the bump toward the top hem where your bikini tie is. He peels the top of your stretchy skirt down to expose the knot and pulls at the string. You let him untie it. The parking lot is empty and wet from an earlier rain. 
"Fuck you're hot," he mutters with the strings of your bikini hanging over the miniskirt on that side. He takes another puff and passes you the joint. You take only a small inhale. "C'mere," he murmurs and his hand on your waist nudges your side off the truck and pulls you closer to him. He unties that side of your bottoms the same way. 
"And if I was workin'?" You ask. 
He gives a low whistle. "Wouldn't know where to start," he murmurs. "But I can tell ya how it'd end." He looks at your skirt.
You ask, "How's that?"
He doesn't take his eyes off your skirt. "She'd be wrecked n' beggin' for more, baby." Your fingers absentmindedly graze your chest, feeling where your tits spill over the cups. "Careful sugar," he chuckles. "Start me up, I won't ever stop." He sticks the joint in his mouth and shamelessly adjusts himself with both hands so his cock is upright and held in his waistband. He offers the joint again and you decline. He pinches it out and puts it back behind his ear.  "Damn," he mutters, still checking you out. He rubs his hand over his cock through his soft pants. "But ya *ain’t* workin'. . . so ya got nothin' to worry 'bout," he adds with a twinkle in his eye. "''Less ya want it . . ." God, you do. You want it. 
"Wrecked, huh?" You challenge him. 
He sighs and his big hand on your hot skin rotates you back toward the truck.  You hang your elbows over the side of the truck bed. He slinks behind you, then lets the heft of his cock against your ass crack. You gasp at how nice and hard it is. It moves against you and he sucks in a breath through his teeth then lets out a, "Mmm" as he exhales. He rolls his hips against you and uses both hands on your hips to pull your ass back into him so you're off the truck.
He holds you with one arm around your waist and his other hand slides between your legs from the front, up your skirt. "Bad girl, ain't ya?" His hand skims up your inner thigh to the crotch of your swimsuit, hanging loosely now that it's untied on both sides. "Yeah, ya are,” he answers for you. He slides two thick fingers through your folds and you sigh, tilting your head back.  "Spread your legs for a stranger?." His voice is deep and gruff and makes you throb.  “S’okay, not just any stranger.” His other hand grabs a tit while he runs his fingers through your dripping folds, then begins to circle your clit with his drenched digits. "Oh she's beggin' for it, baby," he murmurs. 
He lets your weight against the truck again so his forearm is between you and the metal with his hand still between your legs. His cock presses against your ass at a slow rhythm, making your insides swell with need for him as he fingers your clit. You squirm and your hips rock into his hand. You whimper and he brings his mouth to your ear. "Five hundred," he whispers. 
You gasp and he adds, "Not you. . .I'm workin' now, baby" as he speeds up on your clit. "I'm a penthouse boy, but that's your back alley discount." 
"Fuck you," you laugh.
"First one's free if i cum inside," he murmurs into your neck. Then he grabs the crotch of your swimsuit and yanks it down, pulling it off entirely. He pins you to the truck with his cock against your ass. He shoves the swimsuit in your mouth and ties the strings behind your head. You taste the chlorine and your own arousal. You turn your head to look behind you and he reassures you no one can see. 
His hand returns between your legs and he slips one, then two thick, wet fingers into you. Your cunt squelches obscenely around his digits. "Hell yeah, hear her beggin' for me?". He frees his cock from his pants and keeps fingering you.  Then he slides his fingers out and your walls twitch at the loss. He wedges his cock under your skirt and it’s so big you have to spread your legs more. He runs the head through your folds and you’re gushing. As the head massages your clit, you moan into the swimsuit in your mouth. "Want the first one free, don't ya?" He taunts into your neck, dragging his lips along the delicate skin. "Want me to fill up this filthy hole?" You nod, desperate to feel him inside you. "First with this cock, then all the cum ya can hold," he murmurs and you nod. You tilt your hips and spread your legs. "Good," he breathes. "Good girl." He notches himself with the curve of his tip just inside. "Ready to swallow me whole, hot damn." 
You push back on him and he says, "shit," and pushes into you.  He slides right into you, spreading your cunt wide open with a groan into your neck. It's a delicious stretch and he fills you to the brim, bottoming out on the first go.  "God damn, sugar." He retreats and slides his thick cock into you again, sheathing it entirely with your dripping cunt. You weren't even sure you could take this cock but it's perfect. "Fuck, you feel good," he pants and twitches inside you. If he comes early you're going to laugh but you pray he won't. He begins to roll his hips at a steady rhythm, and you moan into the swimsuit. He breathes heavily against your neck and bites and sucks you. You adjust your hips and push back on him to his rhythm. 
"Take it like a pro," he pants, "an' you're tight, too. Damn." His right hand works your clit.  His left hand comes to your throat, thumb on the left side of it, fingers on the right.  Choke me, you think. Do it. But he doesn't. He licks and kisses at the left side of your throat, by his thumb. Then his fingers on the right of your neck tense for leverage and he plants his teeth on the left side of your neck. He sucks hard and moans into you as he sucks more, like he's thirsty for blood. Your neck aches under the grip of his mouth. He breathes through his nose, and when he finally breaks with a gasp, he fucks you harder, grunting and sighing. 
You moan and he pulls your top down under your tits. A breeze and the rustling of branches nearby reminds you of the danger and you shiver. Your nipples harden under his forearm and palm and your cunt spasms. He groans behind your ear and you whimper and arch your back. 
"Gonna come on this cock?" 
You can only whimper again in response. 
"Go 'head, baby," he breathes and reaches for your clit again, groping a breast with his other hand.
You bite down on the swimsuit and your body jerks into his as you come undone. "Oh yeah," he sighs. "Fuck yeah, ohhh baby." He thrusts into you harder and you moan as your cunt chokes his cock, and with another powerful thrust he bottoms out and begins to erupt with a long sigh, pulsing warmly inside you. Then he reaches for your face and pulls down the swimsuit gag. As you gasp for air, he turns your head toward him. He kisses you deeply with his cock still rutting deep and slow inside you, pulsing the last of his seed into your depths. He moans into your mouth. And when your lips disconnect, he looks at you softly. Your eyes lock for a few seconds, more intimately than you’d expect. Then you feel awkward, and look at the back of his truck–Miller Brothers.  You say the first thing that comes to mind. "Joel Miller, huh?" You cringe at yourself. 
He raises his eyebrows. "What, like the sound'a Miller?" 
Your face goes hot and you make a joke to change the subject. "Your brother’a penthouse boy too?" 
Joel's cock slides out of you and you feel empty. He starts to fix your swimsuit top and says, "Somethin' like that. . .I'll introduce ya," as he finishes straightening it. What are you, dating now?
You start to protest, "Oh, I dunno," then pivot to something more agreeable but noncommittal. “Sure, maybe sometime.” 
—---
Joel walks you to the passenger side. What a gentleman.  He opens the door for you.  The seat isn't empty. There's a handsome man with longer, curly hair, a sexy smile, and his hands in his lap.  
"Name’s Tommy," Joel says behind you. "My lil bro." 
When Tommy lifts a hand to give you a little salute, you see his cock is out of his pj pants.   "Howdy, sweetheart." He's not even shy about it. He raises his eyebrows and holds it at attention for you,  thick and hard.  Butterflies swarm in your stomach and you can't take your eyes off it. "Kept the seat warm for ya," Tommy beams.
"Go on, sugar," Joel nods to Tommy's lap. "’fore my cum leaks out everywhere."
Your heart races and your clit throbs. It feels like you're in a dream. This is so lewd and vile. But you just got pounded in a parking lot, and who's gonna know, and who cares. You wanna sit on that cock. 
You look at Joel and he shrugs. "Don't gotta, but it's there." He leans in and gives you a kis, then murmurs "An’ she won't be leakin’ all over." He chuckles, then kisses you again. Damn, he’s a good kisser. When his head pulls back, you give him a devious, inquisitive look. and he says, "that's my girl." He helps you up and you scrunch up your skirt more. "She's hot as fuck, man," he tells his brother. 
You're facing the windshield, and it's like Tommy’s just part of the seat. It's a large truck so there's enough clearance over your head.  Tommy's large hands come to your thighs. 
"I got her," Joel says and Tommy moves his right hand to hold his cock for you. You tilt your hips and Tommy notches himself at your hole, which is still pulsing with an occasional aftershock. Before too much of Joel's cum can trickle down Tommy's cock, they both pull you down on him and you're stuffed full once again. 
"Good girl," Tommy whispers. Joel looks at you lustily and reaches his hand between your legs. He gives your clit a little rub, and you spasm on Tommy’s cock with an aftershock from Joel. 
"Goddamn," Tommy mutters. 
"Yeah," Joel whispers, then gives you another kiss.  He shoots Tommy a serious look.  "Don't fuckin' come inside her."
"I know, I know." Tommy hugs you back into his broad chest. "I’ain’t nothin' but a seat, honey. A seat and a plug." The crudeness makes you twitch.
Joel shuts the passenger door and goes back around to the driver's side. Tommy murmurs softly behind your ear. "Ya feel nice, though."
Joel buckles his seatbelt and starts the engine.  Tommy rests his hands casually on your hips and his thick cock twitches inside you. He clears his throat.
"Tellin' ya, man," Joel warns. 
"Nothin' to worry 'bout, brother,"  Tommy reassures him, playing it cool. "You used her up good." 
Joel backs up the truck and asks, "Where to?" 
You tell him the building. It's already in view in the distance as you approach the street to pull out from the parking lot. "There," you point to it. Joel opens his Takis and puts a few in his mouth. Your walls are hugging Tommy's cock as Joel eats his snack and drives. You bounce on Tommy's thick cock as Joel pulls onto the main street, immediately getting stuck at a red light.  You moan, and Tommy stifles a grunt then whispers "shhhh,"  into your hair.  It's not a long way. But you're stuck in traffic.  
"What do you listen to?" Joel asks and turns on the radio. It's on the local classic rock station.
"That works," you mumble, laid back against Tommy's barrel chest with your eyes half closed. While Joel is focused on the road, Tommy wedges his hand under one of the push-up cups of your bikini. 
Tommy sighs, then whispers into your right ear where Joel can’t see. "Sexy little thing ain't ya." His cock twitches. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying not to moan. He lightly pinches your nipple then fixes your suit again. God his cock feels good. You're almost to your friends condo, but you don't want it to be over. 
"Can you, uh–can you take me to my place instead?" You ask
Joel looks at you and cocks an eyebrow. "Not back to the pool?" You shake your head sleepily. "Tuckered out, huh?” he chuckles.  “That's okay baby. Where ya live?" 
You tell him the apartment complex. It's a couple miles further. "Good girl," Tommy whispers, pleased to have you on his cock a little longer. As Joel drives, you feel Tommy subtly lifting his hips. The bumps in the road have you bouncing on him too. And with the slow traffic, wearing nothing but a bikini top and a miniskirt,  you catch a few stares, even through the dark tinted windows. It turns you on more. It turns Joel on, too. He's hard again and rubbing himself over his pj's which are wrecked with drying drops of his cum, your juices, and a darker new spot of precum.  Tommy’s cock is so thick, and it throbs, and occasionally twitches, and you can so freshly conjure the feeling of Joel pounding you too, whispering filth into your ear.  
Your body’s building toward another climax, but you’re trying not to let it. Your cunt spasms, and Tommy's chest expands under your back with a deep inhale. "Shhh, it's okay," he murmurs. You’re almost there. 
"Joel, i–" you reach over for him. He looks at your face and does a double take. "Shit," he peels into the closest corner. "It's okay, hold on for me sugar."
Tommy moans, trying so hard not to cum.  "You better fuckin not,” Joel growls at Tommy.  Joel takes off his seat belt as he parks and urgently takes his cock out. "C'mere baby," Joel reaches for you. Tommy groans and you feel a little pulse as he hoists you off his cock. Your cunt twitches, trying to hang onto Tommy, not wanting to let him go.  Tommy erupts as his cock slides out of you and his cum paints your folds.  He moans through it, cock in his hand, cum gurgling onto his fist, head tilted back, eyes closed. 
Meanwhile Joel pulls you toward him and your cunt is beginning to flutter ever so slightly around nothing, but you’re staving off a full climax.  You kneel on the empty seat between them and Joel urgently pulls you into straddling him. His cheeks are flushed and his face is serious. "yeah, I got ya baby." He wets his lips, then his mouth hangs open as his tip finds your hole and he pulls you down on his dick, even thicker than you remember. "Hell yeah," he whispers and you're packed full of cock again. "Uungghh yeah," Joel lifts his hips into you and you cum on his cock right away. 
"Oh fuck," you gasp, "Joel–ugghgh," you moan unrestrained and tilt your head back. He catches it in his hand and brings your face to his. You clench around his cock and he fucks up into you slowly. Your lips break with moans from each of you as you cum on his cock and he moves you. He hugs you into him and latches onto the unmarked side of your neck. Then your clit is grinding into him as he keeps moving you on him while your climax wanes. 
"So damn hot, baby. Really take it like a pro." His words make you spasm again, and Joel groans. He rocks you on his cock, biting his lip. You can tell from how quiet he is, he’s trying not to cum so fast. But he can’t help it and after a minute, he asks,  "Ready for another load?" You nod, desperate to feel him pulse inside you.  "Think ya can handle it?"
You nod and roll your hips into him. You could come again, too. 
"Hell yeah, that's my bad girl–oh, fuck, fuck–ohhh.” He grunts from the back of his throat as his cock pulses enormously inside you, adding to his first load. As his moan wanes, his lips latch onto yours again. Your lips move together, and you begin to clench around his cock again, whimpering into his mouth with the pleasure. It seems to last forever. When your lips break, he reads your eye and mutters, "fuck, you're hot.”
He breathes heavily while his pulses continue but echo smaller and smaller, as with your aftershocks on him. He sits back against the seat for a moment catching his breath. "You're somethin' else," he whispers, then looks around outside. "What unit are you?" 
You tell him your apartment number and point out the building. You stay impaled on his cock as he drives to that building. He nuzzles his nose and mouth into your neck. He parks the car, then spends another moment with you.  He nibbles your neck, presses sweet kisses into your jaw, fixes your hair, then whispers, "Nice to meet ya, sugar." 
Tommy gets out of the truck and walks around to the driver’s side, and opens Joel’s door. Joel kisses you goodbye, deeply, with tongue, and helps hoist you off his cock. Tommy helps you down out of the truck while Joel tucks his cock away.  Tommy gives you a hug and kisses you on the cheek.  Then they drive away and leave you wrecked and wanting more. 
---------
thank you so much for reading and engaging! I really love and appreciate y'all.
For more Joel and Tommy, check out stuffing.
if you liked this joel... you'd like the night walks AU, If you like the sharing with a hint of dominance/possessiveness, I think walkintotheriveranddisappear has a gang bang where only Joel can cum inside. I have Tommy's hard day (established free use relationship with Joel)
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EDIT - alright I've gotten several messages this week saying notifs aren't working. I think they might be delayed for some people but idk what to do. I guess I'm temporarily bringing this back but idk if it's even the most recent list 🤡 please subscribe to notifs on toxicfics if you haven't already. If you haven't been getting notifs, you can see the most recent fics you missed on toxicfics.
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@within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @daddy-dins-girl
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kbwrites · 6 months ago
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Up In the Clouds Ch.4
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synopsis: you're friends arguing reaches a breaking point... for you. what will you do when you find out the real reason they've been fighting?
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⚝content: sugusato x f!reader, sfw, satosugu arguing, but they're arguing over youuuu
⚝wc: 1.4k
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Suguru and Satoru always fought. From the year you’d known the duo, that much was obvious. Petty arguments and stupid disagreements were rampant in your trio. But, at the end of the day—usually forced by you—they would make up. Today, however, there was a disquieting air around them, an unfamiliar tension that gnawed at your peace of mind.
You three were in the courtyard for lunch, a place usually filled with the sounds of your laughter. You and Suguru ate bentos while Satoru dug into a sugary donut.
But something was... different.
No annoying quips from Satoru.
No heavy sighs from Suguru.
Just complete and utter… silence.
The courtyard, bathed in the soft afternoon light, felt oddly still. The rustling of leaves and distant chatter of other students did nothing to alleviate the growing unease. You shifted in your seat, the silence pressing down on you like a weight.
“Did Yaga yell at you two or something?”
Suguru glanced up, his hazelnut-colored eyes narrowing as he finally spoke. “No… it’s not that.”
Satoru  scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically behind his dark sunglasses. “Yaga yelling would be wayy easier to deal with than Mr. Perfect.”
The raven-haired teen’s jaw clenched. “Oh, I’m Mr. Perfect now? That’s rich coming from someone who thinks they know everything,  Satoru.”
“At least I don’t try to control every little thing” Satoru shot back, his words muffled by the mouthful of donut. ”Not everything has to be done your way, Suguru.”
“Maybe if you used your head a bit more, we wouldn’t end up in half the messes we do,” Suguru retorted, his tone icy.
You sighed, feeling like a mediator between two stubborn children.
“Guys, seriously, what’s going on? This is ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous is Suguru thinking he can tell me what to do.” Satoru snapped, his voice tinged with frustration.
Finally, you’d had enough. The frustration and tension had reached a breaking point. Without saying a word, you stood up, grabbed your lunch, and turned to leave. The soft thud of your bento box as you placed it into your bag seemed to echo in the silence that followed.
Satoru’s blue eyes widened as he noticed you standing. “Wait, where are you going?”
Suguru’s head snapped towards you, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. “What—?”
But you were already walking away, your footsteps brisk and determined.
“Great, just great! Now ya made her leave because you’re too scared to tell her the truth!”
Suguru’s face flushed with anger. “Me? You’re the one who turned this into a contest and made it impossible for me to even tell her how I feel!”
Satoru shot a glare at his best friend, his voice laced with bitter irritation.
 “Well… I don’t care!”
A week. Seven long days without your best friends. They avoided each other entirely, which was pretty hard to do considering how small the school was.
The hallways almost fell deafening silent without the pair’s obnoxious laughter echoing through. According to Nanami it was “The best week of my life”.  But for you, it was a slow descent into madness. The absence of your two best guys, who were always there to bug you and share in the chaos, was unbearable.
Hell, even Yaga was starting to get worried.
Shoko wasn’t much help. Completely jaded by the routine of arguments and breakups between the second years, she shrugged off the situation with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “They’ll make up… eventually.”
You were never one to just sit back and let situations play out. So you whipped out your phone to set your plan in motion.
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(Y/N)                                          (Y/N) Hey, movie tn? My place.    Movie night 2nite? Sugu                                          Toru Sounds great. I’ll bring the movie.     Heading 2 the store!    You sigh in relief. They WERE going to make up today, whether they liked it or not. Your phone buzzes again. Sugu                                         Toru Hey… just us right?                    Me n you right (Y/N)?                        (Y/N)                          Yep! Just us!
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You prepared your dorm, fluffing out the pillows, grabbing your softest blankets. Hiding any sharp objects. The soft glow from the tv and your fairy lights set a cozy atmosphere. You only hoped that it would help soften the tension between them.
Knock Knock
Your ears perk up at the noise, you stood up, smoothing your clothes as if they could somehow help soothe the growing knot of anxiety in your stomach. As you opened the door you saw Suguru, leaned casually against the doorframe, his raven hair falling in soft waves around his face. His kind eyes tinged with nervousness.
“Hey Suguru!” Your voice warm as you greet him, stepping aside to let the taller boy in. He settled into his favorite spot, grabbing the blanket he’d left here one too many times. You settled next to him as he pulled out four DVDs showing you the selection.
“I haven’t seen any of these yet actually.” He says looking at you.
As you both discussed the movies, you heard another knock at the door. You quickly stood up, hoping Suguru wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. 
“Hmm? Shoko Coming?”
“Not… exactly.” You laugh nervously as your hand slowly reaches for the doorknob. As the door inches open you see Satoru, his white hair slightly damp from his (never-ever missed 8pm Shower). He greets you with a smile, striding into dorm. Immediate irritation flashed across his face when he made eye contact with Suguru.
Their eyes narrow at each other, then at you.
“What’s HE doing here?”
You place your hands on your hips; side-eyeing Satoru to sit down. He begrudgingly takes a seat next to the raven-haired teen, pouting.
“We are watching a movie. And you’re both staying.” Your normally soft voice, firm as you glare at the two older teens.
They both shoot each other glares before sighing. You had won… for now. You took your place, right in between them.
You tried your hardest to just watch the movie, but it was so boring. Usually Suguru picked out pretty decent movies, but this documentary was NOT a decent movie. You stole glances at your friends; if you weren’t so pissed off at them you would’ve been blushing at the prospect of being sat between two attractive guys. 
Their close proximity made your heart race. You could feel the heat radiating from their bodies, and every small movement seemed amplified in the quiet room. Your hand reached into the popcorn bucket. As the pair saw your hand go in they both reached in with you, hoping to touch you.
Both flinching as their hands brushed each other’s instead of yours. They shot each other a glare before turning their attention back to the TV. A minute passes before Satoru speaks.
“I could’ve picked a better movie with my eyes closed.” The white-haired teen mumbles, shoving popcorn into his mouth.
“Just watch the movie, Satoru.”  Suguru replied with an exasperated groan, though his eyes never left the screen.
“This shit is gonna bore me to death.”
“That isn’t such a bad idea—”
You sigh heavily, grabbing the remote to pause the movie. You stand up, looking down at the two sorcerers.
“Alright. What the hell’s going on with you two?” You demanded
They both looked away, avoiding eye contact. Satoru crossed his arms, pouting even more, while Suguru ran his hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.
You tap your foot, glaring down expectantly.
Suguru glanced at Satoru, their eyes meeting in a brief, intense exchange. Satoru’s nod was almost imperceptible, but Suguru seemed to take it as a cue. He drew a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper.
“(Y/N)...”
“We’ve been acting like this because, well..”
“We’re both...” Satoru continued.
“In love with you.” Suguru finished, his voice barely above a whisper.
You blinked, stunned by the confession. The room felt suffocating, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. You stared at them, trying to process their words. Your breath hitched, struggling to keep up with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. It felt like a storm was raging within the confines of the small room, each thunderous heartbeat echoing off the walls.
“You’re… what?” you finally managed to say, your voice trembling.
Satoru stood up, his piercing blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless.  “We’re in love with you, (Y/N). Both of us.”
Suguru’s nod was slow, almost hesitant. 
 “And it’s tearing us apart.”
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inmyheaddd · 1 month ago
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after midnight - percy jackson x reader
summary: percy jackson!boarding school au - its late at night and you're trying to sneak back to your dorm room. everything is going to plan, until percy jackson appears and makes a plan of his own, one that involves him being way closer to you than usual. wc: 2k
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the school halls were eerily quiet as you tiptoed down the corridor, your heart pounding in your chest.
you weren't supposed to be out after curfew, but as you were reading, you looked out the window momentarily, and the stars had looked too perfect to resist sneaking up to the roof.
you were passing through the main hall now, and were just trying to get to the staircase which led to the girls dorms upstairs. you warily looked around, then you suddenly froze.
you heard footsteps behind you. just your luck— of course you were about to get caught. you were already beginning to think of excuses to tell the teacher before you turned around to look.
you turned your head slowly, pulse thrumming in your chest.
but it wasn't a teacher. in fact, you probably would've preferred it to be, because now you were face to face with none other than percy jackson.
you realised this was the first time you saw him out of his school uniform. he was wearing dark blue sweatpants, a plain white shirt that seemed to be a tiny bit too small- considering the way the sleeves hugged his biceps. somehow, his hair was even messier than usual.
percy tilted his head at you, a sleepy grin slowly stretching on his face as he realised here you were, breaking the rules.
he called out your name, "lovely seeing you here," he looked down at his arm in a way one would check their watch, except he didn't have a watch. "isn't it past your curfew?
you swallowed thickly, still not fully out of your previous stupor from your fear of being caught. "you didn't see anything. leaving now." you blurted quickly, turning around on your heels. "bye!"
you began speed walking away, but you heard percy mumble, "hold on, not so fast." as he jogged up to you.
he put a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop you, and you whipped your head around to face him.
"you know, this is really off brand for you." he tilted his head at you questioningly, his sea green eyes looking dark in the dim light of the hall. "what is it with you and breaking the rules recently?"
"im not breaking any—" you cut yourself off with a huff, because... you technically were breaking rules. "whatever, you're out too. what are you doing here?"
he held up his left pinky finger simply like it held all the explanations, and it was wrapped with bouts of bandage and had a splinter to keep it straight.
you snorted, "you're kidding."
"nope." he responded, a twinge of bitterness and sass in his voice that made you want to laugh. "i was peacefully, respectfully, might i add, minding my business in my own bed. when my buddy thought it would be funny to sit on my goddamn hand while i slept."
you bit back a smile at the way he was visibly frustrated at the story, huffing and running his other hand through his hair.
you nodded, "wow, that really sucks," you said dryly, gaze flickering from his hand to his face. "i feel so bad for you."
"is that sarcasm? ya know, i don't think my pinky will ever look the same, it was all cooked and bent and bruised." he rose his eyebrows and held up his pinky for added effect. "even the guy who did it winced when the nurse was wrapping it up. believe me, not a pretty sight."
you refrained from laughing at his dead-seriousness. "no, no, i'm being for real. that looks really bad." you said, shaking your head, but the smile you were falling to hold back said otherwise. 
you cleared your throat as you picked up on what he else said. "oh! but, at least your friend took you to the nurse after what he did."
percy frowned. "took me to the nurse?" he repeated, his eyebrows scrunched up. "oh- no, he's uh," he couldn't even finish his sentence without a low chuckle escaping his lips, "he was there for his own reasons." he ran his good hand over his jaw, humming slightly. "still there, actually.”
your eyebrows raised in shock slightly, suddenly taking real notice of the bruises on his knuckles.
you were just about to say something really smart like, 'oh!' when you both suddenly froze, eyes widening as you caught each others gaze.
you both heard footsteps from ahead, and percy didn't say anything as he quickly wrapped an arm around your shoulder.
well he said one single word: "limp."
the proximity made you stumble over your words; you had ever even physical contact with the guy before, and now his whole arm was around you and urging you to lean your weight on him.
"what the?" you spluttered, and the fact that he smelled really good did not help your predicament.
if whoevers footsteps you were hearing belonged to a teacher, surely percy's arm around you would not help you get out of trouble. 
a girl and a guy all huddled together after curfew? thats like asking for a lifetime of detentions— as if percy didn't have enough detentions. you, on the other hand, never had any. you weren't about to let him ruin that for you.
"percy, i know how to handle-" you began to whisper-shout at him, only to cut yourself off as the footsteps got increasingly and dangerously closer.
now you had no choice, pushing him off would look equally suspicious.
you started limping.
you hoped whatever crazy plan he had pushed you two in was going to work, because what came into view was your principal.
she must've been doing the dorm checks, because she didn't look all that shocked to see the two of you in the hallway, almost as if she was specifically looking for someone to get into trouble.
your principal stopped in her tracks, posture as straight as ever and still in her work clothes, as if it wasn't 12 at night. "percy jackson," she chided, her tone sour. "past curfew, again. what's new?"
you both continued walking, well, percy helping you walk as you fake limped towards her, slightly hunched over like you were really struggling.
she didn't say anything to you, but you noticed the slight raise of her brow as she took in the way percy's arm was around you.
you heard percy take a deep, almost shuddering breath beside you, and it occurred to you he might've been nervous too- because of the teachers presence, of course.
"well, actually, mrs edwards, both of us happened to be at the nurse," he help up his other hand with his injured pinky. you watched him resist a smile then clear his throat, "and, uh, as you can see, she injured her leg. the nurse asked me to help walk her to her dorm."
mrs edwards hummed with her eyebrows furrowed slightly, looking like she considering the story, then she raised a questioning brow at you. "is this true?"
percy was covering for you? why didn’t he just let you get in trouble? wasn’t that his motive 24/7?
it was moments like these that made you question everything you thought you knew about percy jackson.
you brought yourself out of your thoughts as you nodded quickly, "yeah, unfortunately." you said with a light, hopefully convincing and natural laugh.
"you know how competitive sports gets sometimes, there's always an injury." you glanced at percy next to you, and he was already looking at you, his gaze completely focused on just you and a strange glint in his eye and a smile like he was amazed . he looked away the second you caught his eyes though.
"very well, i see." she managed a small smile at you, but it faded just as quick as it came when she looked at percy. "nevertheless, you need to get to your dorms. it is far too late." she looked both you and percy up and down. "and," she regarded you, "i hope your leg recovers soon."
"thanks mrs edwards," you managed a smile, ignoring the way you couldn't tell if your heart was beating this fast because of percy's arm around you, or almost getting into trouble. "goodnight."
you slightly nudged percy with your elbow, still awkwardly smiling at your principal.
"ow!" he quickly cleared his throat, "i mean, uh, goodnight, mrs edwards."
your principal sighed, shaking her head slightly as if she was thinking, what on earth do i do with this kid? before she finally said, "goodnight, you two."
she then walked off in the direction you two came, the click-clacking of her shoes fading off behind you as she went.
you exhaled a deep breath you hadn't realised that you were holding, you actually got away with it. you heard that the last time a group of friends were caught past curfew, they had to spend their break time cleaning up the PE changing rooms. for a month. 
that moment of relief was short lived, because you heard percy groan petulantly from beside you. "man, what about my finger?" he complained, "you had a fake injury!"
you let a giggle fall past your lips. you didn't know why, but in this moment you didn't hate percy so much. maybe it was that without all the people around, the rude teachers, gossipy students, stress surrounding academics, everything just felt easier and lighter in this quiet moment with him here.
it almost felt like talking to a friend, which was something you'd never say outloud, because, well, he annoyed you and you hated it. that was your thing: it wasn't helping out each other get out of trouble and walking with his arm wrapped around you and smiling and feeling flustered- no. you didn't get flustered, especially not at the hands of percy jackson.
"i don't think she likes you very much." you said sarcastically, fake pity painted over your features as you pressed your lips into a line.
"yeah?" he chuckled, looking at you with a slight tilt in his head, "i really don't think so either."
you smiled, glancing behind you, seeing your principals retreating figure fully gone, so you stopped limping and straightened up. "um, thanks for covering for me."
"its no biggie," he said casually, he said, his arm still wrapped around you. he realised a second later, then cleared his throat as he swiftly put his arm back at his sides. "i-my bad, sorry."
you hoped he couldn't see the flush of "its fine, percy." you said with a near nervous laugh, but you prayed it came off as casual. "chill."
he shot you a bashful smile, but it quickly turned playful after he looked you up and down. "uh, you know, since i did you a favor, that technically means you owe me big time now." he said half jokingly, "so, that means i can copy off of you in tests, like, for life, right?
"of course you'd ruin the moment like that." you debated shoving him as you huffed a laugh, not missing the way percy's gaze stayed fixed on you as you smiled. "no, you can’t copy off of me, idiot."
his grin widened, stepping a little closer to you as you continued waking side by side.
"are you saying that there was a moment to ruin?"
your eyes widened, keenly aware of his closeness which made it almost impossible
"wha- no! there was no moment. i was just-" you cut yourself off, seeing that glint in his eye that told you he was trying to get you to stumble like this. "goodness, you are so annoying.”
"i do try." he shot you a grin and you rolled your eyes, which felt natural, like what you always did.
what wasn't natural though, was the smile you fought back and the urge you felt to look at him once again and see that grin of his. 
what was happening to you?
you sighed, finally choosing to shove him little to which he only laughed at. "its definitely working, i'll tell you that much." you muttered, which was probably the wrong thing to say, because you got a feeling he'd only annoy you tenfold more now.
you were 10 steps away from the door that held the the staircase that led to your dorms. on said door, there was a big poster decorated by the girls in your block. ''girls dormiotes. no boys!'' written in bold, underlined in red.
''you know, maybe i should walk you to your dorm.'' percy suggested, scratching the back of his neck. ''can’t have you tripping over yourself, i mean your leg injury was pretty serious.”
you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “you wanna walk me to the girls’ dorms? i’m good, thanks.”
percy laughed, taking a step back as he raised his hands. “hey, i’m just trying to make sure my friend gets to her room safe. no ill intentions here.”
you stared at him, arms still crossed as you deadpanned. “i’m your friend?”
percy blinked. “...yes?”
you couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh, a stark contrast to the way your heart fluttered, and how it felt like there wasnt just butterflies in your stomach, but the whole goddamn zoo.
you shook your head. “ok, well, friend or not, i don’t need your help.'' you told him.
you turned on your heel, walking away quickly, trying to mask the smile tugging at the corner of your lips. you could practically hear the way percy stood there, speechless, behind you.
but just as you reached the door, you heard his voice, still full of amusement. “i see how it is.”
you glanced back over your shoulder, one hand on the door handle. he was standing there, one hand still in his pocket, the other placed over his heart dramatically “you’re really just gonna leave me hanging like that, huh?”
you chuckled as you rolled your eyes, giving him a little wave sarcastically. ''better?''
''much better.'' he seemed to have recovered from his shock, that grin of his settling back on his lips as he put his hand back in his pocket.
"same time tomorrow?" he quipped jokingly, with the quickest of winks you almost wouldn't have caught it if you weren't so focused on the way his eyes looked in this light.
you smiled sweetly, "not a chance in hell.”
percy sighed, fake slumping and shaking his head to himself. "i tried." he mumbled, sliding his hands into his pockets.
you chuckled half heartedly, the 'staying up late' finally catching up to you as you offered percy a sleepy smile, your hand still on the handle ready to go.
"alright, goodnight, percy."
this time, he didn't need to be nudged to say it back.
he smiled a genuine smile at you, "goodnight."
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