#wrap my sweater around you and hold you tight

[teathattast]

Kiss me while the neon buzz

Ain't nobody watchin' us

I'm feeling your electric touch

So kiss me while the neon buzz

Yeah, you light me up

[reignpage]

Vice President!Sukuna

Satan: the end and the beginning

Word count: 3.7k Contents: cursing, mature themes, including allusions to drug use, morally dubious characters, angst, with comfort, I was gonna save this for next week, after I've done the updates for the other jjk guys, but I think people need this so here you guys go.

Sukuna’s brought you back to your dorm room with his jacket wrapped tightly around you and using the blanket of the night to avoid flashing anyone, though there wasn't really anyone hanging around by the time you two finished. It’s late and, without exchanging words, he strips down into his boxers and gets inside the covers with you. 

It’s a tight fit and you have to lay partially on top of him, but he cradles you so securely you have no doubts he won’t let you fall. There’s still a lot to be said and you aren’t sure when the right time is but maybe you'll talk in the morning, because right now, your bones are creaking, and your muscles are sore. Not to mention the ache between your legs. 

“You hurting anywhere, prez?” His mouth is pressed to your ear as he mutters the words to you, a hand rubbing your bare back soothingly. 

Shaking your head, you let it rest on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as if it could tell you the secrets of the world. With a satisfied smile, you answer, “No. I'm feeling pretty good, thanks.”

He huffs and then brushes a hair from your forehead, pressing a kiss there. Soft and gentle are two words you’d never thought you’d use for Sukuna and yet they’re the only words that circle the space between and around you. He was soft when he held you as you recounted the past, he was gentle when he carried you to his car and when he buckled your belt, and he’s both as he mutters apologies against your head when he thinks you've fallen asleep.

You’ve never been apologised more times in one night. 

But you don’t need his apologies, not really. You need something more, something only he can give you, and there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to get it. 

For now, you just let him hold you as you drift off to slumber.

When you wake up, he’s out of bed already. You don’t know when he had gotten changed into clean jeans, shirt and a new varsity jacket, but when your eyes fall on the breakfast spread on your desk, you’re quick to surmise that he must have gotten an assistant, or something of the sort, to drop things off. 

Sukuna leans against your desk, occupied with something on his phone as he taps rapidly and when he spots your movements, he glances at you and gives you a quirk of his mouth. It’s not a smile but it’s close enough to one to warm your chest. 

“Morning,” you yawn, covers slipping off your naked body. He grunts back a greeting. 

You push off the bed and head into the bathroom, door open as you brush your teeth and do your morning routine. When you come out, you ask him what’s going on. 

“Family problems,” he rolls his eyes. “My idiot cousin got into trouble and now I gotta bail him out.”

Finding an outfit in your closet, you settle for a plain sweater and leggings, just something to keep you covered whilst you ready yourself for a much-needed conversation. Steeling your spine, you turn and face him. 

“Choso?”

His gaze slowly reaches you, still typing, and with a cock of his head you know he’s questioning how you knew immediately. You shrug, entering his space so you can hold him. With no hesitation, his arms wrap around you, chin resting on your head. Smelling clean and fresh, you realise he must have showered; you hadn’t heard. You must have been completely knocked out after last night, both emotionally and physically. 

“It must have something to do with him being Cursed Womb, no?" Sukuna tenses, and then his grip on you tightens almost imperceptibly. “Of course, I knew. I hang around late on campus practically every night — you didn’t think I’d notice him creeping around with a duffel bag of clinking paint cans?”

“How long have you known?”

You kiss his chest, right over his heart and then look up at him with as innocent of a smile as you can muster. “Are we dating?”

His gaze narrows and you hear him put his phone down on the desk, focus solely on you now. Perhaps you’re coming on too strong, perhaps you hadn’t calculated right, but it’s too late now — you can’t wait any longer to see things unravel, to see him on his knees. 

“We are what we are.”

“I want us to be dating.”

Without missing a beat, he snaps his teeth at you playfully and growls, “Then we’re dating.”

“Perfect!” You peck his lips and then push off from him, choosing to sit on your bed, and when he makes a move to follow you hold out a hand to stop him. “You’re going to the Dean to fix things, yes?”

The narrowing of his eyes again is all the answer you need. 

“Good. And whilst you’re there with your cousin, you’re going to ask for my title back, yes?” He doesn’t nod, but he doesn’t shake his head. “Things will return to the way they were…except, this time, even better.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He had held you tightly last night, when you told him, and all he could do was kiss your neck and rub your stomach. You knew you had driven him speechless, that he doesn’t recall anything that happened, and when his eyes searched yours, you also knew he couldn’t fathom ever having hurt you. But he did. And you were. And no matter how good of a fuck he is, those things will never change. 

“Sukuna, listen closely, okay?” You cross your legs. “I got your cousin caught. Express my apologies to him, please. But I needed the whole of the Ryomen family’s backing to intimidate the Dean; you alone wouldn’t have been enough. I'm sure your family's fed up with your bullshit, but the two of you? Well, they'd have to get involved then. Sure, with your threats he would have given me my position back easily. But that’s not nearly enough. I need his unquestioning, undying support.”

“You brought my cousin into this?” His voice is dangerously low, and you can see him eyeing the space, eyeing you, as his brain tries to catch up. 

With no shame, you nod. “I told you; I needed to. Did it not occur to you that your well-experienced vandal of a cousin should have known better than to get caught? That he should know the guard’s schedule and rotation by now? And of course he did. He was careful. Good for him. But he was arrogant. Like all men tend to be. He didn’t think anyone would know and he didn’t think anyone would use that against him. I waited for the right time to utilise my knowledge, waited even when the trustees were on my ass for letting him get away with his disorder and rebellion and whatever else those dinosaurs thought. And I suppose I was hoping to bank it in much later but then the Dean pulled his shit, and well, here we are.”

He’s tasting your words, can see him mulling everything you’ve said. Despite the rising insult at your audacity to wield his family as a trump card, you know he’s impressed. But not enough to hold him back from picking up his phone, already bored with the conversation. So, you continue. 

“Make sure to tell the Dean that I want his full support. The other faculty heads need to know I can’t be bullied or undermined again. If I want a charity event, I no longer need to write a ten-page document detailing its benefits. And if I want a student suspended, it’ll happen, no questions asked, yes?”

Sukuna scoffs. “Anything else, prez?”

He’s mocking you but you ignore it. “Yeah, actually. I want you to never sabotage me again.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he bites back but you cut him off. 

Waving your hand dismissively, you counter, “Oh, but I need your word, Sukuna. I need to know that if we ever have a ‘lover’s spat’, you won’t devolve into your petty self and sabotage me. Because, let me make myself clear, if you ever do that again, even just once, even just something as minor as a single misplaced comma on a presentation or a speech, you will never talk to me again. You will never touch me again, and so help me God, you might just never see me again.”

He throws his phone back on the desk with too much force and you know you’ve struck a nerve. His body is even more tense than before and when he stalks over to you, chest rising and falling with every barely restrained breath of anger, you know you can’t back out now. 

“I fuck you once and suddenly you think I’m, what, pussy-whipped?”

Standing over you, casting a shadow across your face, you’re forced to look up at him, his damp pink hair falling slightly over his forehead. You don’t answer him, not with words, anyways. Instead, you leave a faint trail with your fingers against his stomach, his abs tensing with your touch. 

Then, with a glint in your eyes, you’re sure, you smile. 

“Aren’t you?” You cup his hardening length and squeeze. His hand flies to your head. “Because you sure do feel like it.”

Sukuna doesn’t like that look in your eyes, the smug look of someone who thinks they’ve won. He pulls your head back with a sharp tug your hair, ensuring your eyes are on him when he snaps, “I own you.”

“No. You don’t.” Your eyes flutter shut at the next rough pull. Then they fly open and you’re cutting him down with a stone-cold glare. “I own you. I have from the very beginning, since you fucked me over.”

He releases you, hands clenching like he’s been burned. It's clear he's conflicted -- offended by the arrogance in your demeanour, but oddly turned on by that newfound confidence. “You’re never going to forgive me, are you?”

“No, Sukuna," you say slowly. "I never have and I likely never will. Not even every time we fuck, or we kiss or even when we hold hands and skip along to the sunset. Because you haven’t apologised. Not the way I want you to, anyway. No, the kind of apology I want lasts a lifetime, maybe not even then. Maybe even in hell, I’ll want you to repent. Maybe in every new life, I’ll want you to find me and beg for forgiveness.”

“So confident I will?”

You stand now, and you’re actually surprised he lets you place a hand on his chest and shove him back to the desk where you pull up a chair and he sits in it without needing instruction. When you whisper in his ear, his jaw ticks.

“You will. Because you owe me. Because I deserve it,” you feel the weight of every word sink in, to both of you, and then with a slight tremble in your voice, you add, “Because you love me.”

It was a gamble to throw that back in his face, a small ball of anxiety deep in your stomach growing as you prepared to use that card in case he had a better one. But he doesn't. Rounding him, you place your hands on his shoulders, standing behind, keeping him still before you press a kiss to the crown of his head. He doesn’t deny any of your words, doesn’t even open his mouth to argue back, and you know, God, you know, you’ve done it.

“Open the left drawer and take out the book inside,” you order. He does and he clutches the bright pink, fluffy book with the shiny gold lettering like it was the most repulsive thing in the world. He’s pieced that part together without you even needing to say anything more. But still, you need the satisfaction. “Recognise it, baby? I’m sure you do. That book is my diary.”

He waves it in the air with a scoff. “If the golden capital letters weren’t enough to scream that, I don’t know what would be. It’s tacky as shit, by the way.”

You laugh and wrap an arm around his chest, he holds your hand against his heart, thumb stroking your knuckles absentmindedly.

“I had to make sure it’d catch your eye, and it sure did, didn’t it?”

Sukuna throws it back on the desk, leaning his head back to rest between your breasts, eyes closed as he inhales deeply. One would think he’s bored again, that he’s catching up on sleep, completely indifferent. But you know him better by now. You can tell by the tapping of his fingers against the armchair, the squeezing of your hand to remind him you’re real, and the clenching of his jaw, that he’s pissed. That he knows exactly what’s happened. What you've done.

“You saw it when you tucked me in bed last time, right? The night of Gojo’s stupid party? I knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. You’d want a peek inside my brain — no, my soul.”

“So, you knew I’d read the ripped off, crumped up paper ‘hastily’ shoved at the back?” There’s finality there. He’s so smart. You kiss his head again and when you pull away, he wraps a big hand around the back of your neck and pulls you in to kiss him on his lips. He bites and draws blood which he just sucks on before he releases you, eyes closing again. “You knew I’d read and internalise that fucking entry about ‘your deepest, darkest desire which you absolutely cannot ever tell a single soul about’.”

You nod. “Aw, you memorised it, baby? You’re such a good boy.”

He scoffs. The tips of his ears are red. 

“You thought you were doing me a favour? By giving me the opportunity to live out my fantasy in the woods? No, Sukuna. I gave you the opportunity to give me the opportunity. What? Did you think you were a genius for figuring out that I would be in the Lawn, gardening right at the forest’s edge on a Thursday afternoon? Sweetheart, I literally told you I joined the Green Thumb Society, which is a stupid society, by the way. They use up so much paper to advertise their events you’d think they’re singlehandedly killing all the trees.”

“We’ll force them to disband,” is all he says, thumb still brushing over your knuckles, feeling the scratches from the rough night. 

You hum. “And you were so sweet, Kuna. You gave me so many opportunities to stop. You tried to pull me to the car park, but I insisted we didn’t, remember? I directed you to the forest. And I thought you’d take me against a tree as soon as we were out of view, but you didn’t. You actually wanted to talk. You actually wanted to know what happened. Because you care, you sweet thing.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. 

“And even when I was screaming at you, hitting and punching, you didn’t shut me up with your dick in my mouth. No, ‘cause you’re such a gentleman.” You giggle. “So, you made me slap you. Yes, that was entirely your fault, you stubborn man.”

“Shit didn’t hurt, by the way. I’ll need to teach you how to lay a solid punch,” he lifts your hand to bite it, and you slap his shoulder with a laugh. “You’re gonna need to fight me off better next time, yeah?”

Sure, you didn’t expect him to be pissed, but he’s being so well-behaved. He’s taking this all in so much better than you expect, maybe you can actually reveal everything. It might be good to start off your relationship on a clean slate, or as clean of a slate as one can manage with your history. With a fresh resolve, you come round to sit on his lap sideways, and he accepts your weight, hands on your thighs and hip to keep you steady. You lay your head on his shoulder, face tucked into his neck.

“You’re not mad at me?”

Sukuna rubs your leg through your leggings and then picks up a strawberry from the fruit salad on your desk. He pops it into your mouth, sucking the juice from his thumb before throwing the leaf back onto the plate. 

With a shrug, he replies, “Dunno yet. Why don’t you tell me the full story and I’ll decide.”

Always so perceptive. But never perceptive enough. 

Conspiratorially, you whisper against his skin, “I rigged the election.”

“I know.”

You sit up. “You knew?”

He fixes you a deadpan look like it should be obvious to you. “I’m Sukuna fucking Ryomen. One of the richest, most popular guys on campus. Who the hell would vote for a nobody over me? No offence, babe.”

Laughing, you lean back on him, tracing some patterns on his chest again. You accept another strawberry from him. Mouth still full, you garble out, “I needed to win, so I fixed the ballots. I’m not gonna say sorry.”

“Don’t. I’ll live. Plus, you did me a favour. Being president was exhausting as shit. Everyone complains like you’re the root of all their problems. Ungrateful fuckers.”

You nod. “They are very ungrateful, aren’t they? But we’ll take care of them, won’t we?”

Sukuna kisses your forehead and reassures you, “Don’t gotta worry about them no more.”

There’s something burning in your chest, an urge to scream being quietened. It’s a deep satisfaction coursing through your veins, pumped by your heart, and you can only hum a tune again, letting him feed you and sitting in silence. Alien and odd, you never would have thought this would be happening, that you’d be in his lap being hand-fed and soothed with pecks and warm hands, but it feels right. 

You’re sat on your throne, his lips as your crown and his hands as your swords. Emanating from him is all you’ve ever wanted since that fateful night and all that you couldn’t get on your own, but you feel it crackling at your fingertips. The potential for order and destruction, the possibility for greater influence, and the ability to smooth out the path ahead. Everything you could ever need and everything you've ever deserved is right there, willing his boner to calm down.

“There’s one more thing I want,” you whisper, voice devoid of emotion. 

His words are firm and unrelenting when he says, “Anything.”

“I want revenge, Sukuna. I want to make her pay.”

The words are shameful, you know it. They're words of a petty, vindictive, shameless woman who never forgave, never moved on, never grew up. But you don't care. You had spent years following her around, hanging on every word and doing whatever she pleased because you thought that was what friends did. You defended her against bullies who called her a 'whore' or a 'slut', and you let her cry in your arms when her mother remarried, and you even let her use your library card to straighten out white powder on your desk at 17.

All those times you waited outside her window so she could sneak one, those times you wrote her essays for her so she wouldn't get marked up again, lied to her mother about where she was, and let her steal every guy you could have begun to like. Even the one you did.

But humiliating you, looking down on you? When she was one who never earned a single thing in her life?

That's just not fair.

“What’s that beautiful brain cooking up?”

Pulling away so you can open another drawer, you fish out a USB flash drive. It’s been sitting there, gathering dust for years now. And it’s finally seeing the light of day. This won’t go to waste. You can’t let it. With careful words, you explain, “In here is a bunch of pictures and videos I’ve taken over the last couple years of my friendship with her. It’s pictures of her underage drinking, snorting cocaine like it’s air and lying to older men about her age. She’s a thrill junkie and a literal one, which you knew very well, didn’t you?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him. You just peck his cheek. 

“Don’t worry about it. She can be very persuasive when she wants to be. I figured that’s why you didn’t remember me, why you forgot that night. But I have to be very clear, Sukuna. You are not to touch that filth again. Not if you want to be with me, okay?’

Sukuna smashes his mouth against you, sucking your bottom lip and groaning at the sweet taste of strawberries before he shoves his tongue inside, searching for your taste and you meet him in the middle, offering whatever he wants. It’s more tender than the one you shared with him last night but it’s just as disastrous. The flash drive falls onto the desk as you cling onto him, holding him close. When he pulls away to lick the wetness trailing down your cheeks, you realise you’ve been crying. 

The things you haven't been able to say, not even to yourself, come out in hiccups.

“I-I couldn’t release it on my own, not w-when her family would find out it’s me. Somehow, they’ll know. They’ll take away my scholarship o-or blacklist me from every law firm in the country. And I can’t fight them, not by myself. I need you, Sukuna. I need you to do it for me. They can’t do anything against you, against your name.”

There’s no hesitation in his voice as he dries your face with his thumbs, swallows your sobs with his mouth and says, “I’ll do it. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

“For how long, Sukuna? For how long can I use you? How long will you let me?” You whisper against his lips, a real tremor to your hands as you press it against his chest, desperate to feel his heartbeat and know it matches yours. Though he never said it, he loves you. Or whatever closest thing to it. And truthfully, you don’t care. You just need his attention and his loyalty and that’s enough. Because that’s just as much as you can give him anyways. 

That's as much are you're capable of now.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, still tasting the salt on his lips. “I can’t say what'll happen in the future, but I have a lot to make up for, and if it takes my entire lifetime, then so be it. In fact, I have a gift for you. Consider it an expression of trust or whatever.”

He shows you his phone and some coding and files and files of audio and you're very confused. Your tears stop streaming and you're just staring at him like he's lost his mind. But then you see the file name and a grin is pulling at your lips, matching his.

This is enough. For now.

So, when he lifts you up to seat you on your desk and pulls down your leggings to bury his face between your legs, you don’t say anything else. You just let the pressure take you over and you lose yourself in all the power he gives you, the power he wills into your core. 

This is all you've ever wanted.

And you've never been happier.

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now

in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

[mattybsgroupie]

cry | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; face slapping (m receiving); handjob (m receiving); degradation; edging; dacryphilia; sub!matt

♡⊹𑄽୧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: SUB MATT MY BELOVED!!! i’ve been… somewhat interested in face slapping and humiliation, if you guys couldn’t tell. btw so many requests for chris i promise i will work on them asap! not proofread as usual but hope you enjoy this and missed sub matt as much as i did! special thanks to my bestest friend @thepubeburgler for the idea, patience and support ♡ much love!

♡⊹𑄽୧

matt had been acting like a brat throughout the entire night, talking back and rolling his eyes. he enjoyed playing the tough guy, especially when he knew i could easily punish him for having an attitude.

matt had his back against the headboard, the brightness from his phone screen reflecting on his glasses as he scrolled mindlessly. i dragged my feet across the room, stopping by his drawer and picking some of his clothes for myself.

i removed my shirt and my shorts, staying with my lingerie on as i untied my hair, allowing the locks to fall down on my shoulder and reaching for some wipes to remove my makeup.

i heard matt shifting around on the mattress, a cough coming from the back of his throat as he watched me undress. i turned my head to take a look at him, chuckling when i noticed the tent forming on his pants. he didn’t say a word and waited patiently until i walked towards his direction, lying down next to him and turning to the side, giving my back to him.

he let out a low whine when he understood that he was, in fact, getting punished for his behavior. matt adjusted himself and wrapped his arm around my waist, bringing his hips closer to mine in a tight hug. i could feel his boner poking my ass, the kisses he started placing on my shoulder were a silent plea for me to touch him.

“stop” i said, giving a light tap on his thigh. he whined again, slowly grinding his hips against me, trying to get some relief to his aching cock. “matthew.” i called again, this time turning around and quickly placing my fingers around his jaw, my grip tightening as he pouted.

“you think you can be a fucking brat all night long and get away with it? by humping me?”

“w-wasn’t humping” matt tried to explain himself, lowering his hands to his crotch in a failed attempt to cover his hardened dick.

“oh, you weren’t? what’s this, then?” i gently took his wrist, placing my palm around his cock, still covered by the sweater he was wearing. i could feel a wet patch starting to form, the mocking tone in my voice making it harder for him to hold himself. “need your help” he asked, his blue eyes staring at me through the glasses.

“take it off” i commanded and matt quickly removed his pants, his dick almost slapping against his belly. he sat down again, glancing at his own leaking tip, as if asking for me to touch him. matt was huge — i couldn’t close my fist around his shaft nor fit him without getting stretched out by his fingers first.

“what are we gonna do with this tiny little thing?” i said the exact opposite of what he was, wrapping my knuckles around his shaft and slowly stroking him. his cock twitched inside my hand, trying to hold his hips from bucking forward. “eager much?”

“‘m sorry” he whimpered, “i’ll be good, i j-just need you”.

“now you wanna be good?” i asked, fastening my pace. matt threw his head back, letting his mouth hang open. “words, matthew”

“d-don’t call me that” he didn’t enjoy that i was punishing him. no pet names, no kisses, no praises. “please, i’m being a g-good boy!” he complained, slightly pouting.

“good boys don’t talk back” i cupped his balls, caressing them. my touch was soft and gentle, unlike my words. “good boys wouldn’t need to be punished for misbehaving” i cooed, pecking his lips to show that i wasn’t, in fact, mad at him.

“i’m sorry!” matt cried when i took my thumb to his tip, circling the pre-cum that leaked from his slit. “wan’… cum” he whispered, trying to not sound so desperate.

“already?” i chuckled at him, still jerking him off. i gave his cock a few more pumps before loosening my grip, stopping my movements. “you’re not cumming until i say so”

his blue, puppy eyes started watering, and i denied with my head. matt then raised his hands and brought them to my chest, reaching for my tits. i allowed him to grope them for a while before slapping him. my palm flew to his face, the tingling sensation making matt choke on a moan, feeling the warmness spread across his cheek.

matt had his lips apart and flushed cheeks, already looking completely fucked out. tiny droplets of sweat started to form, gluing his brown strands to his forehead. the tingling sensation grew on his skin, sending another wave of pleasure to his body.

“are you gonna be a good boy for for me, baby?” i said, caressing the spot i had just slapped, slowing pumping him again.

matt nodded desperately, the tears on corners of his eyes falling across his face “y-yes! i’m good boy, i promise!”

i fastened my pace and matt started to buck his hips forward, trying to fuck into my fist in a pathetic, sloppy pace. “you wanna do it yourself?” i asked, noticing how desperate he was to cum.

“no” he whimpered, both sweat and tears mixing together as they reached the corner of his mouth. “jus’— ngh! wanna cum!”

“hold it” i spoke, stopping my movements on his shaft. matt wouldn’t stop whimpering, his thighs trembling from being edged for too long. his face was damp and he panted heavily, doing his best to postpone his orgasm.

i came closer to him, my free hand cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears away. matt was so close to breaking, the edging and the degradation along with my thumb circling his tip — it was all too much. i knew he wasn’t going to use his safeword because, after all, he really wanted to be a good boy and take his punishment like one.

i grabbed his cock one last time, stroking his shaft quickly as he opened his mouth, not wanting to hide his moans anymore. “cum, cum!” he cried, begging for me to give him permission.

“gonna make a mess for me?” i cooed and matt nodded desperately. “can— ah! please!?”

spams took over matt’s body as he came — without permission —, the knot on his lower belly finally getting some relief. he groaned loudly, losing control of his own sounds while his orgasm washed over him, painting his own tummy in white, thick spurts of cum.

i talked matt through his orgasm, peppering kisses across his face, telling how good he had been for taking his punishment. it took him a while to come back to his senses, his noises becoming low, tiny whimpers as he recovered.

i removed my hand from him and cleaned both of us with the sheets, going back to headboard and opening my arms so he would come cuddle.

“so mean” matt teased, putting his tongue out like a little kid. “slapped me n’ everything” he pretended to be upset, rubbing his red cheek.

“i couldn’t help it” i giggled as matt made his way to my embrace, nuzzling his face against my chest, a silent ‘thank you’ for taking care of him. i kissed the top of his head, soothingly scratching my fingers on his back. “you just look so pretty when you cry”.

♡⊹𑄽୧

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[elllisaaa]

how about emo hot skater boy Jake with a massive dick energy and idk maybe like a kinda cocky reader who doesn't believe skater boy Jake is huge and he has to show the reader (who might be acting like a brat) what they're missing could be interesting

EMO SKATER!JAKE who's honestly kind of a loser when you really think about it. he's got his friend group and even if he's quite famous for his unconventional style, none of these people are really friends with him. he spends all his days either listening to music and trying to learn guitar, or skating and perfecting his tricks.

what is maddening is how hot he is despite all of that. you cannot help but stare at him every time you find yourself practicing at the skatepark at the same time as him. however, you don't want to let him know that you're kind of attracted to him. so instead, you always tease him about his style - even if it suits him perfectly - or the fact that he's probably still a virgin with a cocky smirk on your face.

jake usually puts up with your bratty attitude because he knows that what you say is not true, and because he's pretty sure you don't think a word of it. he might look like a loser but he's not an idiot - he can feel the way you're often staring at him. however the jokes about him being inexperienced are getting quite old.

"i'm probably the first girl you talked to in real life though, so i'm not surprised you're still a virgin." jake sighs as you grinned at him with a glint of mischief in your eyes, but he has had enough of your temperament. "actually, that's not what they all said when they saw how big i was baby." the pet name he always gives you and that made your skin hitch at the beginning is slowly growing on you, now making a shiver run down your spine. but you try to stay focused, even if the way jake is looking at you and licking his lips makes it hard to concentrate on forming coherent sentences. "pff ! you ? a big cock ? that's pretty hilarious at least, i have to give you that."

jake rolls his eyes at you, and you try not to move as he gets closer, but you still fall from your board. but the boy in front of you is quick to wrap an arm around your waist and save you from an unwanted meet up with the ground. jake takes this as an opportunity to let his lips brush against your cheek, his long, soft brown hair tickling your face he whispers in your ear : "maybe i should show you how huge i am if you still don't believe me. maybe you'll finally shut up once i got your tight pussy stretched open on my dick."

the air around you seems to thicken, and you cannot breathe properly anymore as jake starts to suck and lick your neck. heat rises to your face, both from his dirty proposal and his kisses that make arousal pool into your underwear. "so what now baby ? cat got your tongue ?" his condescending tone as he bites down on the flesh just under your jaw finally shakes you out of your slumber - even if you had to hold back a whimper the moment his teeth grazed your skin. "i bet you couldn't even make me cum, you're such a loser jake." - "bet darling."

that's how you found yourself in the backseat of his car, ass up in the air and face down buried into one of his sweater, his scent maybe driving even more insane than his actually very big cock thrusting into you at a rapid pace. "not so cocky now, uh ? all you needed was an inch of my dick to shut up." and you want to answer, you want to deny, but at this point, you're only able to moan and bite the inside of your cheeks to not let any more sounds slip past your lips. "fuck… you're such a whore y/n."

you feel jake leaning forward, one of his hands still gripping your hips tightly and the other clenching at the door of the car for some more leverage. his firm abs are pressed against the small of your back, and his hot stammered breath is crashing right against your ear - you feel overstimulated in the best way possible. "admit it now baby." - "n-no !" - "come on, you can feel how deep i am right ? you can feel how much i'm stretching out your tight little cunt, don't lie." but you still shake your head, choking on your words as you try to disagree again, instead cut by a loud moan when jake hits your sweet spot. you clench even tighter around him, and he cannot hold back the low, throaty groan slipping past his lips.

"you're so tight baby, must feel good to be this full." yes, it really does, but you don't want to admit it - as if the tears rolling down your cheeks and the way your lips are bleeding from biting them too much are not enough proof. "n-no, don't like it…" - "you're such a bad liar, y/n, it's pathetic." and then he resumes his rhythmic thrusts, hitting your sweet spot precisely each and every time, and it becomes way harder to hold back your noises. your fists close around the material of his hoodie, burying your face into his intoxicating scent in an attempt to drown out your whines. "j-jake… s-stop, i'm…" you have to mentally stop yourself from saying the words, but you can almost feel the way jake smirks against the skin of your neck that he's been biting and licking at. "what was that baby ? are you close ?" you shake your head no again, and jake's smirk is growing as he stops moving completely, cock sitting deep inside of you. "then i'll stop if you don't want to cum."

your reaction is immediate : you whine loudly when you feel him start to pull out, even more tears gathering in your eyes. "no, no, no, no ! jake, wait !" - "what is it now ?" your voice is quiet when you answer, but jake still hears it clearly : "wanna cum… please." the beg falling past your lips entices him into thrusting back into you full force and this time you don't even make an attempt at keeping your voice down, screaming out his name so loud that everyone in the parking lot must have heard you. "admit it, baby. say that i'm big and then i'll let you cum." you don't want to, but the way he's rutting his hips into you and driving you closer and closer to your orgasm is getting to your head, your mind fogged up by lust. "s-so big jake, so fucking big, feels so good… please, please…" - "now that's a good girl. cum."

the simple command is enough for you to let go, his name slipping past your lips again as you grip his cock even tighter, making it almost impossible for jake to move. but the way you become putty in his hands feels even better. what he loves the most though is the way you're too weak to push him away when he thrusts inside of you again, seeing your body visibly tremble as he starts to fuck you again. "i'm gonna give you my cum, make you even more full of me. maybe that'll keep your mouth shut a little longer baby." you hardly comprehend the meaning of his words, but you don't really care when jake is moaning about how good you're squeezing him, you don't really care when he quickly brings you to the brink of another orgasm. you don't really care because you know that you'll be teasing him again the next morning, hoping that he'll fuck you in the backseat of his car all over again.

[keeryhours]

thankful - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby daddy! Rafe

Summary:

You, Rafe, and Iris spend Thanksgiving with the Camerons.

Request: “maybe baby daddy rafe and y/n spend thanksgiving together as a fam? With some smut? 🤭”

Warnings:

Smut (18+), p in v, fingering, dirty talk, semi-public sex, Rafe has a slight breeding kink and refers to himself as daddy 🙃

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N:

I seriously get so excited when you guys request things, and this one is so timely! I went back in time for this one, so hopefully that’s okay. I hope you enjoy! I’m so glad you guys are loving this series <3 Requests are still open and if you’ve already sent one, I’ll be getting to it!

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list :)

@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

—

“You look beautiful.”

That was the first thing Rafe said when you opened the door on Thanksgiving, ready to ride with him to eat dinner with the Camerons. You had dressed in a slightly oversized sage green sweater and a short black skirt with heeled boots. His eyes trailed over your body.

“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look good yourself, Cameron.”

A smile lit up his handsome face. And he did look really nice. Rafe wore a dark gray button up with khaki slacks, the sleeves of his shirt hugging his biceps deliciously.

“Where’s my girl?” he asked. You were honestly surprised that wasn’t the first thing out of his mouth.

“JJ has her,” you explained, thumb pointing over your shoulder. “He’s getting her in the car seat.”

Rafe followed you into the house and into the living room, where JJ was just finishing up tightening the straps of Iris’ seat. “All set, pretty girl,” JJ announced to the baby, ignoring Rafe’s presence.

Iris cooed happily at her uncle. She was days away from turning 6 months old, just beginning to learn to sit up on her own. Her eyes lit up when she caught sight of Rafe, and she squealed.

Rafe grinned widely, practically pushing JJ out of the way as he walked up to the seat and crouched to be eye level with his daughter. “Hi, baby girl,” he greeted her, holding out his hand and letting her wrap her tiny hand around his finger. “You ready for your first Cameron Thanksgiving?”

Iris blew bubbles at him, which he took for a yes as he laughed. Iris was dressed in a brown Thanksgiving-themed dress, white tights on her chubby legs to help keep her warm. She had a matching bow in her light brown hair. Her big blue eyes looked right into her father’s matching ones.

Rafe stood, picking up the infant carrier. “Ready to go?” he asked you, and you nodded in confirmation.

Rafe was already out the door and on the way to his truck. JJ gave you a hug before you followed after him. He was baby talking to Iris as he locked her seat into the base. He turned as you approached, a smile on his face.

“Both my girls look stunning today,” he said as he closed the truck door. “I’m a lucky guy.”

You blushed deeply as you both climbed into your sides of the vehicle - you hadn’t officially been Rafe’s girl in a long time, but he seemed to have no intentions of dropping the nickname.

You felt a little nervous on the drive over. It’s not like you weren’t incredibly familiar with the Camerons, but it also felt like a big deal. This was your first Thanksgiving together as a family (well, kind of), and you felt the pressure of it. Not that Iris would care how things went, she’d never remember it obviously, but you would, and you wanted the evening to go well, for the day to be special.

Rafe pulled into the long driveway of Tannyhill, the gorgeous Cameron estate that you had admired your whole life. You used to be incredibly jealous when you were younger, truthfully. You and JJ had a rough home life with an abusive father, so you both spent much of your childhoods dreaming of something better. Tannyhill made frequent appearances in your fantasies. So did Rafe.

At the time, you felt you could never admit your crush on the eldest Cameron to anyone, especially not your best friend Sarah. Because how lame would that have been for you to admit to crushing on her jerk of a big brother? It’s funny how things worked out in the end. You had dated Rafe secretly for a while, but when it came out (awkwardly, with Sarah walking in on you two in a very compromising position), you realized you had worried for nothing because Sarah actually loved the two of you together. She said you brought out the best in Rafe. For a while, at least.

You smoothed your skirt as you climbed out of the truck, watching Rafe retrieve the car seat from the back. You walked side by side to the house, nerves buzzing in your stomach.

The smell of the house hits you immediately - it smells delicious. Your mouth practically waters as you take in the smell of the different foods waiting in the dining room. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were.

The Cameron family greeted you warmly when the three of you walked into the dining room. Ward and Rose both gave you a big hug, followed by Sarah launching herself into your arms and an attack by a nearly-as-excited Wheezie.

You were nothing compared to the little girl bundled in her seat, though. Rafe watched on with a proud smile as his family crowded around the carrier, baby talking to Iris. Ward is the one who unbuckles her and lifts her from her carrier first, holding her to his chest and looking like the proud grandpa he is while the others crowd around. It leaves you feeling warm inside.

The food was already spread across the large table. A huge selection - a perfect looking turkey, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, green bean casserole, any Thanksgiving food you could dream of was prepared to perfection and displayed on the Cameron’s dining table.

When it was time to eat, you took a seat next to Rafe. Iris had a high chair set up for her, but she spent the meal bouncing from lap to lap. The conversation is comfortable and you find yourself laughing through most of the meal. The food is as delicious as it smelled, and you happily eat as much of it as you can.

After dinner, a football game is turned on the huge TV in the living room. Ward retired with a drink in hand to watch, while Wheezie lounged on the couch and Sarah joined Rose in the kitchen, Iris on her hip.

You stood, about to join the girls in the kitchen, when you felt large hands making themselves at home on your waist, warm breath against your ear.

“Let’s sneak off somewhere,” Rafe whispered in your ear, sending goosebumps across your skin.

“Rafe…” you scolded, turning around to look at him. “We can’t. And we’re literally surrounded by your family-“

“We can,” he interrupted you, hands wandering along your sides, around to grab onto your ass. “C‘mon…”

He grabbed onto your hand and pulled on it, a mischievous smile on his handsome face. You looked around, making sure no one was paying any attention to you. Rafe knew you would give in, but the delight on his face when you move your feet to follow after him is unmatched.

He pulls you down the hall to one of the downstairs bathrooms, quickly pulling you inside and locking the door behind you as you flip on the light switch. You barely have time to take in your surroundings before Rafe’s pressing you up against the door, his lips on yours in a hungry kiss.

Rafe’s hands explored every inch of your body he could reach, tracing over your curves, moaning into your mouth as he grabbed your ass again before sliding his hands beneath the hem of your skirt.

“Rafe…” you breathed out against his lips, head going dizzy already from the way he was already everywhere all over you at once.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet for me, baby,” he mumbled, fingers pushing your panties to the side, rubbing against your already throbbing clit. You gasped, eyes falling shut. “Can you do that?”

“Yes,” you promised him, desperate for him to just keep going. You’d do anything as long as he didn’t stop.

Rafe pushed a finger into your entrance, making your head fall back against the door with a thud as your mouth fell open. He began to pump his finger in and out of your tight heat while you tried to keep your legs from collapsing.

“So tight…” Rafe commented as he added a second finger, readying you to take him. “Been missin’ me?”

“I’ve missed you so much,” you confessed easily, causing Rafe to chuckle as he placed kisses along your jaw. He had you losing your mind on nothing but two of his fingers and a few kisses - you never stood a chance with Rafe.

“I’ve missed you too, baby,” he said lowly, mouth moving to your neck to suck and bite along all the sensitive spots he knows by heart.

He used his palm to rub against your clit as he continued to thrust his fingers into your pussy, curling them deep inside to hit that perfect spot that nearly had you collapsing onto the floor if it wasn’t for Rafe’s strong arm around your waist. You let yourself melt into him as he expertly took you apart.

“Gonna cum on my fingers, baby?” he asked, already knowing the answer from the feeling of your walls clenching around him in the most familiar way.

“‘m so close…” you mumbled, head falling forward onto Rafe’s shoulder. He laughed at how weak you became for him, and how easy it was for him to get you there. He couldn’t get enough.

He thrusted his fingers faster, making sure to press against that perfect spot with every push inside. Your legs trembled, whole body electric as you grabbed onto Rafe for dear life, biting down on his shoulder to stifle your moans as your release rocked through you intensely. Your cunt spasmed around his fingers as he worked you through it, mumbling whispers of “Good girl, that’s it, fall apart for me, cum all over my fingers pretty girl, that’s fuckin’ right…”

Rafe didn’t even care about your teeth digging into his shoulder, like he barely even noticed it. He pulled out of you slowly and you whined, a cocky smirk growing across his face as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean with a groan. “Still so sweet, baby.”

“Rafe, I need you,” you begged, legs hardly able to hold your weight as you leaned against the bathroom door. You felt pretty pathetic right now.

“Yeah? You still need my cock even after you just came all over my fingers?” Rafe asked, eyes darkened with lust as he grabbed your waist and roughly positioned you to lean over the countertop. “Greedy little cunt.” He smacked your ass hard, making you jump and stifle a moan with your hand.

You watched in the mirror as Rafe pulled your skirt up around your waist, harshly pulling your panties down your legs and stuffing them in his pocket. His eyes met yours in the mirror, mischievous smirk on his lips.

His hands quickly undid his belt and slacks, pushing both his pants and boxers down just enough to free his throbbing cock. You wanted to turn around and get a good look at it - it had been a minute since you’d seen it, but you could never forget how nice it is - but Rafe had you pinned to the counter.

He gave his already rock hard length a couple quick pumps as his other hand rested on your hip, rubbing circles into the skin. He took the time to take in the view before him - his favorite view. You all bent over for him, pussy soaking wet and spread wide for him to fuck however he pleased. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He lined himself up at your entrance, thick cockhead pressing against you eagerly, precum smeared across his tip. His eyes met yours in the mirror.

“You started that birth control, yeah?” he asked, but he was pretty sure he was about to fuck you raw no matter what your answer was.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, pushing your hips back against him. “Been on it for a few weeks. We’re good.”

Rafe didn’t think he could have stopped himself either way, but he felt relieved as he pushed his hips forward, tip breaching your tight hole. You watched his face in the mirror as he slowly filled you, his face completely contorted in pleasure. His brow was furrowed, mouth hanging open as he let out a low, quiet groan, trying his best to hold onto his restraint and not alert the entire household to what you were up to.

His hands dug into your hips harshly as he bottomed out inside of you. His own thighs were trembling, he couldn’t believe the way your pussy was holding onto him, squeezing his cock perfectly like you were made to take him.

“Good, baby?” He gritted out, looking into your eyes in your reflection. You nodded frantically.

“Yeah, baby, want you to fuck me,” you begged.

Rafe let out another quiet groan at your words - fuck, he felt like you would be the absolute death of him sometimes - but it’s exactly what he wanted to hear as he drags his hips back painfully slowly before snapping back into you.

You smack a hand over your mouth just in time for him to thrust back in, the strangled moan that escaped your lips blessedly muffled by your hand. Rafe chuckled darkly, setting a quick pace as he fucked into your tight cunt from behind.

Your free hand gripped onto the side of the counter for some kind of stability. You felt completely at his mercy, your body utterly weak and held up only by the counter beneath you and Rafe’s rough hold on your hips as he pulled your body back against his ruthless thrusts.

“Fuck, yeah, take it,” Rafe grunted out quietly, unable to keep his dirty mouth from running even when you were very much at risk of getting caught. His eyes fluttered closed as his hips snapped into you at a frantic, near desperate pace.

You felt another orgasm building inside as he fucked you just right, cock hitting that same perfect spot with every movement. Rafe leaned over you, placing kisses all over your shoulders and getting close enough to hear the breathy whines and moans he was pulling from your chest.

“Sound so pretty like that…” he huffed, hands sliding up under your sweater to grab at your tits. He impulsively pulled the sweater over your head, messing your hair up in the process before dropping it to the bathroom floor. “Need to see you,” is all the explanation you get. He unclasped your bra to free your naked chest to his hungry eyes. God, how he loved your tits. Especially since having a baby - they were perfect before, but now they’d nearly doubled in size and Rafe was obsessed.

He watched them bounce as he fucked you, the sight pushing him closer and closer to his own release. He wrapped his hands around them, squeezing and playing with your nipples, making you let out the most delicious whines whenever he’d pinch at them. You wished he had taken his shirt off so you could see his gorgeous chest, the way his ab muscles would flex as he pounded into you, biceps contracting as he pulled your body against his own.

“Feels so good, Rafe,” you moaned quietly, wanting to let him know how good he was making you feel, how good he always was to you. “I love your cock.”

Rafe groaned. “I know you do, baby.” He picked up his pace, thrusting into you even harder as he felt both of your releases approaching rapidly. “I love this perfect pussy, she’s always so good for me…”

Rafe’s hands went back to your hips as he started chasing his release, the power and speed of his thrusts sending shockwaves through your body, and shoving you up against the counter so hard you were sure you’d have bruises all over tomorrow. “‘m close again, baby…” you whined.

Rafe removed his right hand from your hip and wrapped his arm around your body, fingers going right for your swollen clit to rub quick, precise circles. “Cum for me again, baby, please, wanna feel you cum all over my cock, just for daddy, please baby girl-“

The combination of his words and his actions violently shoved you over the edge, your mouth dropping open and eyes rolling back as it crashed through you for the second time, but infinitely more intense. Your pussy clenched around his girth over and over as you chanted his name into your own hand, ecstasy coursing through your body like a drug.

Your body practically dragged Rafe into his own release and he leaned over to bury his face in your neck as he came hard, filling you up with his load as he continued to slowly pump his hips through his orgasm while you pulsed around him. “Jesus baby, holy fuck…” You hear his muffled voice against your skin, feel his shaking body laying on top of you.

You both took a minute to calm down before Rafe was pulling out of you, leaving you feeling much more empty than before. He stepped back and admired his work, fingers collecting his release that had dripped out of you and pushing it back inside, making you tremble.

“Don’t want to waste a drop, baby,” he said with that cocky grin back on his face. You’d both made sure to always use protection any time you hooked up since Iris was born, but at the same time Rafe loved the idea of filling you up, the idea of you potentially giving him another perfect baby.

Rafe tucked himself back into his pants as you tried your best to compose yourself, pulling your clothes back on and trying to make them look like they hadn’t just been on the floor and shoved around your waist. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as he watched you.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. You raised an eyebrow at his reflection in the mirror. “To dinner,” he clarified, an amused glint in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him. You fussed with your hair, trying your hardest to not leave this bathroom looking freshly fucked. “How do I always let you pull me into these situations?”

“It’s because you can’t resist me,” he said, hands trailing up and down your sides. He squeezed your hips one last time before he pulled away.

“I’m gonna head back out there so we don’t walk out of here together. You take your time.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against your lips, then smacked your ass hard before he slipped out the door.

You sighed to your own reflection. Your hair had been thoroughly ruined, lipstick a little smudged. You did your best to pull yourself back together before you exited the bathroom and rejoined the Camerons, who were all gathered in the living room now, Rafe included, Iris on his lap.

“Where have you two been?” Ward asked, completely oblivious. “You missed half the game,” he directed towards Rafe.

Rafe’s eyes darted to yours, smirk still on his lips as he took a sip of his beer. You were grateful you were saved from having to answer when one of whatever teams were playing scored a touchdown, stealing Ward’s attention away entirely.

You didn’t miss the knowing look Sarah gave you, before she rolled her eyes and shook her head with a laugh. You felt your cheeks heating.

When Rafe brought you home, Iris had already passed out. She slept soundly in her car seat as Rafe drove through the dark island, music playing softly from the truck’s speakers to not disturb her rest.

He reached a hand over and rested it on your thigh. You stared at his hand, unsure what to do, until you dropped your hand atop his and interlinked your fingers together. Rafe smiled, looking more content than you’d seen him for most of his life.

“Seriously, thank you for coming,” he said as he put the truck in park in your driveway. He still held your hand as he turned to look at you. “I know it’s still weird, trying to figure out how to…do things, how to…co-parent. But I’m glad we can get along and be a family without her having to be with one or the other.”

You smiled softly at the sincerity in his words. “I’m glad, too. I had a good time.”

Rafe smirked at you then. “Yeah? You had a good time with me?”

You felt yourself blushing - you had meant the whole event, but admittedly that had been the best part. “Yeah. Tons of fun.”

Rafe laughed as he leaned in and pressed a kiss against your lips. The biggest part of you loved it, still cherished every opportunity to be affectionate with Rafe, to feel any part of him, to be close to him. But a small part of you wished he wouldn’t do things like this anymore because all it did was confuse feelings and make things complicated all over again. You didn’t like the way your heart fluttered in your chest as your ex boyfriend kissed you in the darkness of his truck.

When he pulled away, he looked at you like he could tell what you were thinking about. He looked almost apologetic, although he didn’t regret it. He never regretted the things you did together.

“I’ll see you this weekend,” you told him, knowing it’s Rafe’s weekend with your daughter.

He nodded. “I’ll be here. Do you want me to carry her inside?”

You thought about it. You didn’t want to inconvenience him, but that carrier was heavy as hell now that she had grown so much. “Yeah, that would be good.”

Rafe hopped out of the truck without a complaint, reaching into the backseat to unlock her carrier and lift it from the car seat base. He followed you to the door as you let the three of you inside.

JJ was gone, spending Thanksgiving with the pogues. You had planned to go, too, before Rafe asked you about spending the holiday with his family. You felt a little bad that you didn’t get to spend it with your twin brother, but you knew he understood and probably didn’t even care.

Rafe carefully unbuckled his sleeping daughter from her seat. She snuggled into his chest and he rested his large hand on her back, rocking her gently so she’d stay asleep. You trailed after him as he walked to the nursery and laid her in her crib.

Back in the hallway with Iris’ bedroom door closed, you both stood there awkwardly for a minute.

“JJ probably isn’t coming back tonight,” you blurted out, not even sure why you said it.

But Rafe’s face lit up, eyes shining with mischief. “Yeah? You’re alone for the night?”

You blushed, looking down at your feet to work up the courage for what you say next. “I don’t have to spend it alone.”

Rafe’s smirk only grew as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as you giggled. His lips came down to press against yours again, and you didn’t care about your relationship status, or whether you belonged together, or how much you loved him despite telling yourself you didn’t. All that mattered was that he was here now, and he was yours for the night.

You were thankful for that, at least.

[evie-sturns]

your christmas gift to matt 🎄

———————————————

it was coming to the end of the present opening, matt sits in a pile of teared up wrapping paper with the largest grin you’ve possibly ever seen on his face. his cheeks are a rosy red from the heating, which was definitely cranked up to the max after you kept complaining about how cold it was in this house.

“i love all of it- i mean how did you even think of this! i’ve wanted it for ages but i never said anything! it’s like you read my mind or some shit.” matt laughs excitability, a big smile spread across his face as he holds up the lego batman set you got him. “what can i say- you’re literally batman!” i tease, “i just sensed your aura, had to get the set for you.” i smile.

matt laughs, scooping up all of the wrapping paper around him and stuffing it in the bin bag.

he was just so clueless about what you had in store for him.

you and matt had been dating for 3 years now, you didn’t want kids, definitely not yet atleast, but there was one thing matt wanted, more than anything, which is basically the same concept…. all he yaps about is this one thing, he could never make the commitment to buy it, never. but you definitely could.

“matt- i have one last present for you.” i speak, fidgeting with your hands nervously. confusion washes over him, “but we already unwrapped everythi-“ he speaks, but he stops as i stand up, walking to behind the couch and pulling out a box. loosely wrapped in green christmas tree wrapping paper. his eyebrows furrow, as he stares at it.

i sit down on the floor infront of him, clutching the box in your lap.

“i uhm- hope you’re not too mad at me for this purchase- but you’ve always talked about it and-“ i ramble on and on, trying to downplay the present i just got him. “you’re edging me jesus.” he laughs, running a hand through his hair.

i place the box in his lap, and he instantly starts unwrapping it, to reveal a large cardboard box…

‘meeow’ a familiar noice booms throughout the box. matt’s head instantly snaps up to look at me, his lips slightly parted. his eyes are wide as he freezes. “no you didn’t-“ he instantly speaks, his voice soft and panicked. i gnaw on my bottom lip nervously as i look at him.

he gently lifts open the flaps of the cardboard box, peeking inside.

a cat. you had got him a cat. a fluffy white kitten, with bright blue eyes of course, to match matt’s.

his hand trembles as he reaches inside the box, gently lifting the small animal out. he clutches the kitten to his chest, holding it like it’s made of glass. his hands are fully shaking now, i can’t see his face due to the fact his hair is flopped infront of his as he looks down at it.

he’s fully silent, my heart thumps as i wait for any sort of reaction, but he just clings to the cat. his large hands almost covering the whole thing.

“do you- do you like it??” i speak nervously.

matt nods silently, before looking up at me with tear filled eyes, “i lov- i love her.” his voice breaks as he gently places the cat down in the box. he’s crying, oh my god.

“oh- aw matt-!” i laugh with a smile as he wipes at his eyes frantically. i pull him into my chest as he lets out a loud hiccup, his tears streaming down his face and dripping onto my christmas sweater.

“i’m sorry- i’m just really happy.” he sobs out through a laugh, his arms wrapped around my waist deathly tight. “i’ve always wanted- a cat and- and now we have one and-“ he cries, pulling away from my chest to lift the kitten out of the box. his whole body shaking as he holds it like his firstborn child. “i love her- i love you- thank you so much this is the best thing that’s ever happened-“ he rambles,

i feel my own emotions start to surface as i look at him, god i am so inlove with this man.

——————-

@ilovemymannnnnnn n @sturnioloxlver r @buckys-goodgirl rl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl l girl @luvr4miya a @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit t @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts s @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo o o @chrisstopherfilmed @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 s2 @ev3rgreenxtrees ees @certifiednatelover er @solarsturniolo lo @mattsenthusiast t t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonlybitch h @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos s@sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn n @raysmayhem-72 2 @75sturn n @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 1 1 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @sunsetsturniolos ver r @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall

[iamgonnagetyouback]

remus lupin x potter!reader where you both go on your first date ⟶ word count : 1,085

navigation┆ remus lupin masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

Snowflakes swirled softly outside the Potter house as the smell of pine and cinnamon filled the air. You stood in your room, holding up yet another dress, staring at James with pure exasperation. He was sprawled across your bed, tossing a chocolate frog in the air, his feet kicked up like he had nowhere better to be (which, let's be frank, he didn't.)

“What about this one?” you asked, holding up a red, long-sleeved dress that flowed down to your knees.

James squinted at you, his eyebrows furrowing in judgment. “Too tight. Moony’s a good bloke, but he’s still a bloke.”

You groaned and grabbed another dress, a delicate navy one with a sweetheart neckline and tiny silver details. You spun around, hopeful.

“Too much cleavage,” James said, waving his hand dismissively. “I don’t want to spend the evening wondering where my baby sister’s collarbones disappeared to.”

“James!”

"I'm just saying!" he defended, smirking. "I know my friends better than you do."

“This is impossible,” you muttered, tossing the dress onto the growing pile of rejections. “I’m never going to be ready at this rate!”

“Relax, I’m just doing my job,” James said, winking. “Big brother duty—keeping things classy and keeping Moony’s paws off you.”

“I’m going to strangle you,” you snapped, disappearing into your closet. You emerged wearing a cream-colored sweater tucked into a plaid skirt, tights, and your favorite boots. “There. Is this acceptable enough for you?”

James sat up, giving you an approving nod. “Perfect. You look like you’re about to read poetry in a snowy forest. Very innocent.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue—there was no point.

“Wait,” James said suddenly, hopping off the bed. Before you could react, he grabbed a scarf and started wrapping it around your neck.

“James, stop!” you protested, tugging at the fabric.

“Nope. Neck protection is essential,” he said, his voice completely serious. “And tights are good, but maybe some thicker ones. Can’t have you catching frostbite—or worse, Moony’s wandering hands.”

You gawked at him, wide-eyed. “Do you hear yourself?”

“I do, and I think I’m doing an excellent job,” he said smugly, reaching for a pair of gloves from your drawer. “Here, add these. And maybe a hat—no exposed skin, no temptation.”

Before you could retaliate, a knock at the front door echoed through the house. Your heart leapt, and you scrambled to undo James’ handiwork. The scarf came off and was thrown onto the bed as you ran to the mirror, smoothing your hair.

“That must be Remus,” you said breathlessly.

James followed close behind, his face breaking into a devilish grin. “Just remember,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe, “just because he’s my best mate doesn’t mean you have to snog him on the first date.”

You turned to glare at him. “I wasn’t planning on it!”

“Good.” James straightened up. “And don’t worry. Moony’s a great guy. You’ll be fine. Nervous?”

“A little,” you admitted, biting your lip.

James patted your shoulder reassuringly before striding to the door. He swung it open, revealing Remus standing there with snowflakes in his curls and a bouquet of soft winter blooms.

“Remus,” James greeted, his voice overly formal.

“James,” Remus replied smoothly, a twinkle in his brown eyes.

“I see you brought my sister flowers,” James said, raising an eyebrow.

Remus tilted his head. “I thought she might like them. Or would you prefer I’d brought you flowers, James?”

James snorted but didn’t miss a beat. “Don’t tempt me, Lupin.”

He stepped aside but not before lowering his voice so only Remus could hear, his expression turning serious. “Remember: I’ve got eyes everywhere.”

You caught bits of James’ lecture as you adjusted your scarf in the mirror, rolling your eyes. Finally, you had enough. You hurried to the door, placing a hand on James’ shoulder and gently nudging him aside.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” you asked sweetly.

James gave you a pointed look but retreated, muttering, “Curfew’s at ten!”

You turned to Remus, your heart fluttering at the way he was looking at you. His eyes were warm and soft, lingering just a little too long.

“What?” you asked, feeling self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like that,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “Do I have something on my face? Should I fix my hair?”

“No,” Remus said softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You look perfect.”

Your cheeks burned as you stammered, “Oh. Uh, thanks.”

Remus offered you his arm, and as you took it, you couldn’t help but glance back at James, who was hovering by the staircase with a proud but slightly threatening smile.

“Have fun!” he called out. “But not too much fun!”

You rolled your eyes as you stepped out into the crisp winter evening, your boots crunching in the snow.

“Sorry about him,” you mumbled, pulling your coat tighter around you.

“Don’t be,” Remus said, glancing down at you with that soft, fond smile that made your heart skip a beat. “I think it’s sweet, how much he cares.”

“Sweet isn’t the word I’d use,” you muttered, but a small smile tugged at your lips anyway. “You know, I’m going to kill him one day.”

Remus chuckled, his breath puffing in the cold air. “Don’t. I’d miss him, for some inexplicable reason.”

You glanced at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You’d miss James?”

“Well,” he said, looking down at you with a twinkle in his eye, “I’d miss seeing you fight with him. It’s entertaining.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the warmth spreading in your chest.

As you walked side by side, the snow falling gently around you, Remus reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of gloves.

“Here,” he said, holding them out.

You frowned. “But I already have—”

“Yours aren’t as warm,” he interrupted, gently slipping them onto your hands before you could protest. His fingers brushed yours, and the simple touch sent a shiver up your spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your cheeks burning.

He smiled again, and as you continued down the snowy path together, his hand brushed against yours, lingering for just a moment before he gently laced his fingers through yours.

You were definitely going to kill James later. But for now, all you could think about was the way Remus was looking at you—like you were the only thing keeping him warm on this snowy winter night.

[natlovesls2]

Gobble Gobble

Oscar Piastri x American Fem!Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: minimal swearing, mentions of alcohol no use of y/n, pretend this makes sense

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 1.7k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: Oscar experiences that absolute shit show that can be Thanksgiving or Oscar's first Thanksgiving with your family

︵ ⊹ ︵⏜︵ ⊹ ︵୨୧︵ ⊹ ︵⏜︵ ⊹ ︵︵ ⊹ ︵⏜︵ ⊹ ︵୨୧︵

Your family had begged you to invite Oscar to the annual Thanksgiving dinner and, with hesitance, you did. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to join in the celebration, rather you knew that your family could be much, especially during the holidays. But wasn’t that the case for every family? It was like the holiday season brought a weird tension. 

Oscar looked at the front of the home you had grown up in, letting out a nervous breath as you reached to open the small gate that separated you from the yard. “Are you ready?”

He gave you a nervous laugh, “As ready as I can be.” You had warned him, multiple times, about your family's antics. From the nosy aunts, who would undoubtedly interrogate him all night, to the loose-lipped brother. He wasn’t sure if they like him or even tolerate him, but he knew what to expect– or at least he thought so. 

“They’ll love you, trust me” you said, opening the gate and taking a small step into the front yard. Oscar smiled at you, liking the confidence you had in his ability to make a good first impression. 

“I trust you,” he gave you a small nod, his eyes flickering down to your lips, moving to stand closer to you. 

The moment was interrupted by the noise of the front door being swung open, your mom standing below it with a wide smile. She called out to you, walking down the steps of the porch to envelope you in a tight hug. Your mom held you for a moment before turning her attention to Oscar, smiling at him and giving him an equally tight hug. “You must be Oscar, it's so good to finally meet you,” she said, pulling away from him, “We’re still cooking up a storm, so I’d recommend staying out of the kitchen, but make yourself at home– because, well, you are home,” she said, urging you inside before retreating into the kitchen to resume cooking. 

You led Oscar into the house, taking off your coats and placing them on the coat rack. The house smelled like all sorts of food and baked goods, it was evident that you all would be eating a great deal. He stopped at the hallway, his eyes scanning the walls and the pictures that decorated them. “She likes you,” you told him, taking a hold of his hand. 

 Oscar took in every family photo, smiling, his gaze lingering at the ones from your childhood, “you think so?” he asked, turning to face you, his hand squeezing your own. 

“Mmhm, absolutely.”

He smiled at you, taking a step closer, his eyes flickering down to your lips. Oscar glanced around, as if he were a child about to steal a cookie from a cookie jar, deciding the coast was clear he wrapped his hands around your hips. His lips found yours, his hands slipping under your sweater and gently squeezing at your skin. Your lips tasted like the lipgloss you had applied earlier, a taste that Oscar had grown to love in the months you had been dating. He deepened the kiss, a hand coming up to tangle in your hair. 

“I am definitely going to gouge my eyes out,” said a voice you found all too familiar, causing you to jump away from Oscar.

Oscar turned to look at the direction in which the voice came, noticing a man leaning against the doorframe that led to the living room. Your brother stood there, a smirk on his face, he looked similar to you besides a few small differences in features. “What the hell is your problem?” you whispered harshly, glaring at your brother as you straightened yourself up. 

Your brother smiled at Oscar, extending his hand out as a greeting, “You two need to be aware of your surroundings” he said as Oscar shook his hand. 

“You need to stop being such a creep,” you quipped. 

“A creep, me?” your brother asked, holding back a smile, “says the girl who just a second ago had her boyfriends tongue shoved down her throat like a fucking vacuum.”

Oscar bit back a laugh, clearly amused by the situation, almost enjoying the way in which your face filled with embarrassment. You hadn’t lied when you said your brother said anything and everything that came to his mind. “How much is she paying you?” your brother asked Oscar, continuing to tease you. 

He turned to look at you, expecting you to lash out at your brother but found you only shaking your head at him. “No payment,” Oscar said, “It's all voluntary.”

is“Oh just piss off,” you said, playfully shoving your brother aside. He smiled at that, finding it amusing that you were more vocal against him while Oscar was around. Your brother prepared himself to speak again before being cut off, “Mooom! He’s bothering us!” you called for your mom, who yelled at your brother from the kitchen. 

He glared at you, flicking you off, “You’re such a baby, can’t handle shit,” he grumbled, leaving you and Oscar alone again.

“He's so annoying.”

Oscar smiled at you as you returned to his side, clearly still annoyed by your brother's behaviour, “He loves you, that's why he annoys you so much. It's a brother thing.” His eyes lingered on your lips, clearly wanting to continue your earlier actions but scared that another family member would magically materialize. 

“Sure he does, come on, I want you to meet my dad,” you said, reaching for Oscar's hand again, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance. 

“Lead the way.”

You led him down the hall to the living room, where your father would undoubtedly be watching a game of football. As you approached, your father glanced over his shoulder from the couch to get a look at you, noticing your intertwined hands. 

“Hey,” you greeted, pulling Oscar along to sit on the couch opposite of your dad, who greeted you with a soft ‘Hey’ and nod before turning his attention back to the game. “Who's winning?” you asked. Your dad grumbled, it was obvious that the team your family rooted for was losing, although your dad held out the hope that they’d make a comeback. He looked at Oscar for some time, trying to make an opinion of him. “This is Oscar,” you said, introducing him to your dad. 

He smiled at Oscar, extending his hand out for him to shake, “Yeah, I know who he is,” he says, his eyes returning to intently watch the television, “you always look like you’re desperately trying to cover up your stressed attitude on the TV.”

You let out a small laugh at that, causing Oscar to smile, “I suppose I do look rather tense from time to time,” he responded. 

Your dad takes another look at Oscar, “Make her cry and I’ll break your kneecaps,” he says with a smile, making it obvious that his threat was empty. Oscar let out a laugh, nodding at your dads words. It was clear that Oscar wasn’t the first to be given such warnings. 

“He's just messing with you– he wouldn't hurt a fly,” you assure Oscar, playfully glaring at your dad, a smile painting itself on your own face. Your dad chuckled, it was obvious that your dad was only joking around with him. 

“He likes you,” I whisper to Oscar.

You sit with your dad for a while, only half paying attention to the game before the doorbell rang. The sound of new voices filling the house as your relatives arrived for dinner. Your dad shook his head, letting out a sigh, “Let the chaos begin.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You sat at a long table filled to the brim with different Thanksgiving foods. A turkey sat in the middle, surrounded by the usual sides like mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and stuffing. It was like those stereotypical Thanksgiving dinners you see in movies. Oscar was starting to feel overwhelmed by all the simultaneous talking and smells. 

“So, when's the wedding?” one of your aunts, Victoria was her name– she was the most nosy of them, asked expectantly. 

Poor Oscar nearly choked on the mouthful of turkey he had been eating, the sudden question taking him by complete surprise. He looked down at you with wide eyes, pleading you to answer before he said the wrong thing. 

“We haven’t really discussed that– I mean, we’ve only been dating for so long,” you responded. She raised an eyebrow at you and Oscar, amused by the way in which you had avoided truthfully answering her question. It was almost as if she wasn’t too convinced by your answer. 

“Leave them alone,” your mom said, attempting to jump to your defense. 

“Please,” you whispered, eyes glued to your plate as you moved the contents around with your fork, your hunger seeming to have abandoned you as the questioning began.

“I’m only teasing,” your aunt gave a small wave, clearly unphased by your moms words, “Do you want children?”

Oscar took a sip of his wine, attempting to keep cool after that very personal question. He could feel your eyes on him, and he reached down to hold onto your hand. “Children?” he said with a nervous laugh, “We haven’t really talked about that either,” he said, looking down at his plate to avoid eye contact. 

“But surely you must have an opinion of your own,” your aunt added. 

He took another sip of his wine, silently hoping they’d find someone else to interrogate, “I mean, yeah,” he started, playing with your fingers as if to distract himself, “Yes, I’d want kids… just not anytime soon– we’re still so young,” he looked at you warmly, a small smile appearing on his lips as he answered. 

“Oh he's perfect,” your grandma said from beside your mom, smiling widely at Oscar. Her comment made both of your parents smile, seemingly agreeing with what she had said, it was clear that Oscar had made a good first impression. He smiled at you, his smile growing as you kissed his cheek as your family finally moved on to their next victim. 

Dinner continued with more questioning, your family left you and Oscar alone for the most part, and more eating. Afterwards you all gathered in the living room to watch whatever Christmas movie had been picked that year. And as you rested your head on Oscar's shoulder, he felt as if he could get used to Thanksgiving with your family– no matter how intrusive their questions may be.

︵ ⊹ ︵⏜︵ ⊹ ︵୨୧︵ ⊹ ︵⏜︵ ⊹ ︵︵ ⊹ ︵⏜︵ ⊹ ︵୨୧︵

*ੈ✩‧₊˚Note: This is in no way me condoning the myth of the first thanksgiving. And it is important to acknowledge the atrocities committed against the indigenous people since the arrival of the English. please ignore the spelling or grammar mistakes, I've got to go make mac and cheese– peace out and happy turkey day to anyone who feasts on this day.

[dollfacefantasy]

WHICH ONE TO CHOOSE?

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield x carlos oliveira

summary: at a halloween party, you and your boyfriend play out a little fantasy with chris and carlos.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, anal, blowjobs, face fucking, foursome, cnc, praise/degradation, intoxication/alcohol, pre-planned roleplay scenario

wc: 4.2k

a/n: it's a little messy but i hope you guys like this one. it's set in an au where re characters are allowed to experience happiness <3 anyways comments, reblogs, and asks are always appreciated.

kinktober slot: day 26 - cnc

Holding Leon's hand tight in your own, you drag him along the cement pathway leading to Rebecca and Billy's front door. Their yard is decked out like it is every year you've been to one of these things. Cobwebs sprawl across the arch ways while purple and orange lights glow in each window. Skeletons hang by the doorway and loud music thumps from inside.

Pushing open the mahogany surface, you stretch your free arm above your head and announce your presence.

Rebecca who's standing near the entryway hears the call of your voice and turns to greet you. A smile spreads across her lips as she takes in you and Leon together.

"There you two are. I was starting to wonder if you couldn't make it this year," she says.

"Pfft. Please, the year we miss one of your parties is the year Leon's horrible driving has taken us out on the way here," you joke, earning chuckles from her and Billy who's come up from behind her.

Leon, in contrast to them, shakes his head before wrapping his arm around your neck and pulling you closer to him. 

"Don't encourage her," he tells them with a suppressed smile.

Rebecca playfully rolls her eyes and waves him off. The song switches in the background, going from something low and quick to the slower melody of Eyes Without a Face.

"Really though, it's great to see you both. You guys look great," she praises.

"Thank you," you beam at the compliment, smoothing out the blood-spattered, white dress that covered your figure. Glancing up at Leon, you pull his Jason mask down over his features so that the looks are complete. 

"You and Billy look super cute too," you continue as your eyes scan over their simple matching doctor and nurse outfits, Rebecca being the one in the doctor's white coat and the tall man behind her in the little hat with the red cross on it.

She thanks you in return, and the two of you chatter on while you migrate into the living room to join the rest of the party. The usual crowd spans across the main part of the house, from the couches near the fireplace to the bar set up in the kitchen. While you yourself are not a government employee, you'd become friends with almost everyone here who is over the course of your relationship with Leon.

You prance over to Claire and Jill sitting on the sofa first, giving the younger woman a big hug over her shoulders from behind before reaching for Jill and bringing her in too. Claire returns the embrace by covering your forearm with her palm while Jill pats your bicep in acknowledgement.

You take in their costumes too. Claire has ditched her red jacket for the night and instead dons a black sweater with bat wings attached to the back. Jill, on the other hand, looks like she just got off of work, but you suppose soldier could technically be a costume.

"How are you guys? Oh my gosh, Jill it's been so long since I last saw you," you gush.

They give the usual small talk responses, checking in on you as well. Their eyes flit to Leon a few feet behind you with brief waves.

"Have you been keeping him in line?" Claire teases with a smile.

You nod proudly and lean back, wrapping your hands around his arm. "You know it," you chirp.

The small group of you banter back and forth for a while, catching up, talking about plans for the future. Even though these are Leon's friends, you're often much more talkative with them than he is. It's an arrangement that works for you both. You never mind taking the weight of socialization off his shoulders.

After the conversation with Claire and Jill runs its course, the two of you head to the bar. Your hips sway to the pulsing of the music playing while Leon rests a hand on the curve of your side. You and him traverse through the gathering of less familiar faces, friends of friends or newbies you hadn't acquainted yourself with yet. When you reach a clear area on-looking the kitchen, you immediately spot Chris leaning against the wall with a drink in hand. A generic wolf mask sits next to him on the counter, the costume he'd already abandoned.

You dart over to him with a smile on your face, ready to hug him as soon as you're close enough. He startles a little from the sudden contact against his chest, but once he sees it's you, your happiness infects him and softens the look in his eyes. His large palm lands on your back, giving you a few small pats.

"Hey you," he says.

"Hey yourself," you respond and pull back.

He nods at Leon and looks between the two of you.

"Cute costume. You supposed to be Leon's helpless victim?" he teases.

"Mhm," you hum with a nod.

You're about to say something else, but the man in the kitchen who'd been making a drink with his back towards you turns around.

"Carlos?" you say when you catch sight of his face, your smile morphing into a grin.

He wears a similar expression and rounds the counter to be closer. You spring against him with more enthusiasm than you had for Chris, and he returns the sentiment with a crushing grip.

"Oh my god, I didn't know you were gonna be here!" you say.

You hadn't seen Carlos in a while, longer than you hadn't seen Jill. He only came to these things when he was in the area, which wasn't all too often these days. Leon wasn't the closest with him either, but you always thought he was so fun. He was outgoing and funny, charismatic with the perfect level of charm. Plus, it didn't hurt that he looked like a god. To put it in simple terms, you had a little crush on him. Nothing too serious but definitely enough to trigger involuntary butterflies in your stomach when you saw him.

"I think Leon wanted it to be a surprise," he says with a little smirk.

You glance at your boyfriend. He nods at you with a knowing look, still watching you in the other man's arms.

Even without words you know what it means. While your touchy behavior would have been an absolute no with any of your past partners, Leon didn't share that same possessive outlook on the matter. He enjoyed watching you be all over others only to be the one that got to take you home. He liked when his friends like Chris or Carlos lusted over you, trying to cop a feel during a hug or speaking as if you're available for the taking. It just prodded at some primal part of his brain that he didn't have control over. None of it ever upsets him. He doesn't get jealous, he gets horny.

That aspect of his personality was why Carlos's appearance was a surprise for you. Tonight after the party, you and your boyfriend had already made plans with Chris, but obviously now, Carlos was going to be involved too, and that was more than ok with you.

You press your cheek to his chest and tighten your arms that are already wrapped around him.

"You look so good. You totally need to visit more often," you say to the bulky man against you.

He chuckles, giving you another small squeeze in return. "For you, I would," he teases, his hand grazing over your ass as he lets you go.

A giggle trickles from your lips, and you follow him back around the counter to the main part of the kitchen. From here, you get a good look at his body. He's muscular as ever, his tight white shirt only accentuating that mass. In your excitement, you hadn't noticed his costume which was similar to yours. White fabric with red dye flicked across it. Only he had some face make up too. You guessed a zombie or something in that vein.

He catches your stare. "You really missed me, huh?" he asks teasingly.

"Of course I did," you say, "Now are you gonna pour me a drink, or do I have to do it myself?"

He laughs and grabs a few nearby bottles, pouring a mix into a black cup for you. Passing it into your hands, he watches you take the first drink.

Things would only get better from there.

Over the next few hours, you get yourself buzzed. You gulp down each drink you're handed with joy. The smile gracing your features grows hazy, your eyes become cloudy and your voice gets extra giggly.

Suddenly, you're super touchy. Your hand lands on the forearm of whoever you're speaking too. Sometimes it trails up a bit, teasing the bicep of the person. You bite your lip more and nod emphatically at points that probably don't deserve it. Leon keeps an eye on you, but so do Carlos and Chris.

After a while, you migrate over to the open area closer to the speakers. You dance to the blaring music, your body bobbing around to the pulsating beats. Even though Leon had never been one for dancing, he holds your hips and grinds up against you from behind. You feel his breaths on your neck and the tip of his nose brushing your jawline.

The song switches over to something with more guitar rather than synth, and a firm set of fingers wraps around your wrist. The mysterious force tugs you to them, but becomes a lot less confusing when you look up and see Carlos smiling down at you.

"Mind if I cut in for a second, Kennedy?" he asks.

Like he's supposed to, Leon stares him down before tersely shaking his head. This was all part of the game of course. Everyone had to play their part to earn the high score with you.

You giggle and lean into him, your head resting against the plush muscles in his chest. He starts swaying the two of you to the music. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leon move to the wall where Chris is standing. Carlos keeps you focused though, grabbing your chin and turning you back towards him.

He guides your movements. His hips roll against yours in deep motions. One of his muscular arms is wrapped around your back while the other sits in the position to hold your ass. Both feel so good, like live wires resting against your skin.

You dance with him. Your arms rise up and drape around his neck. You follow his movements, letting him take you through the sequence with ease. it makes your head spin. Not only the thrill of being with someone else, but the feeling of your boyfriend watching on.

All the excitement swirling with the liquor leaves you feeling kind of dizzy as the song ends. You stumble back from Carlos. He reaches for you, trying to make sure you stay up right and don't go crashing down on your ass in front of everyone. That isn't part of the plan.

"'m fine," you say, "Just gotta go to the bathroom real quick."

Waltzing away, you snake around the furniture without any grace and make your way to the hall that leads to the rest of Billy and Rebecca's home. You find the door to the bathroom easily, but opening it doesn't come with the same lack of difficulty.

Before you can process what's happening, someone is right behind you. Your hand rests on the cool knob. A little shudder goes through you at the feeling of the weight against your back.

"Are you sure you're ok, princess? You look a little wobbly," rasps Carlos directly into your ear.

"I'm fine," you say again, this time with a little more whine in your voice.

"I don't know... you look like you're barely standing on your own," he murmurs in your ear, "I think your boyfriend would want me to look after you."

His hands slide around on your waist. They coast up over your ribs to cup your breasts through your dress. You pant at the touch, your skin breaking out into chills.

"No... I don't, 'm fine. I'll be right back..." you say. Your voice sounds airy and distant. The movement of your hands match as they fruitlessly try to push his hands down.

He chuckles, the deep timbre of his voice rumbling beside your head. Pulling you backwards, his back lands against the wall and your body presses into him. His arms close around you in a tighter circle.

"Cute girl like you... I just don't think you should be left alone," he teases.

You whimper and squirm your hips, pushing them back against his pelvis. He lets out a soft groan at the sensation and keeps you right there.

"Look at you, just asking for someone to take advantage," he whispers.

You're about to turn your head to look up at him, but before you can, a new set of fingers nudges your chin upward in their owner's direction. Chris stares into your eyes, smirking at how helpless you look.

"He's right, sweetheart," he chides, "You're lucky you have us watching out for you."

His voice is husky as he leans closer. You can feel his breath fanning over your face.

"The way you were prancing around out there, showing yourself off in your little dress... anyone could've followed you back here. And who could blame them? Who wouldn't want a taste?" he continues.

His fingers skim your thighs and ghost over the space below the white hem. They toy with the fabric, teasing the idea that they'll peel it upwards to reveal the lacy panties you wear underneath.

Another pathetic noise trickles from your lips because you want him to. God, you want him to. You'd let them both ravish you right there in the middle of the hall. One holding you in his strong arms while the other pumped his dick in and out of your slick cunt.

Carlos noses at your jaw. His lips graze over your pulse point while his hands grope your breasts with more intent. There would be no mistaking his touches as accidental now. He grabs at them through your dress, pinching at your hardening nipples over the barrier.

You rock your ass back against him again. "Guys... we can't..." you babble as heat floods your body.

"Why not, princess?" Chris asks. He presses his front against your thigh, letting you feel his swelling bulge.

Your legs squirm and drift together. You try to squeeze your thighs for some friction, but he knocks them back apart with one of his knees.

"Leon... I'm with Leon," you breathe, doe eyes looking up at him with all the desire in the world.

"Oh, Leon, huh?" Carlos croons, "Would Leon have a problem with the way you’re rubbing up on me? With the way your pussy is dripping for Chris."

You whine and bite your lip before speaking. "It's not," you whimper.

"It is, baby," he says. One of his hands starts to slither South. "You're telling me that if I slipped my fingers under your dress and into those pretty panties, that I wouldn't feel you completely soaked for us? Is that what you're saying?"

Before you can defend yourself further, someone clears their throat from the end of the hall.

All of your heads snap in that direction to find Leon standing there, stiff as a board. He has his arms crossed; though, almost immediately they shift to rest on his hips. He looks like a disapproving parent staring at the three of you with disapproval all over his features.

Still, his harsh expression doesn't conceal the outline of his stiff cock in his pants.

"I don't think that's appropriate, guys," he says, "Feeling up on my girlfriend while she's telling you she has me?"

"It's not like that, Leon. We're watching out for her. Making sure she doesn't get into trouble. We're doing you a favor," Carlos grins. His hands drop from your breasts to your waist, but he makes sure to give the area a squeeze to let you know he's not done.

"Mhm. You know how she gets when she's been drinking," Chris says to him.

"I mean look. She may be saying no, but her body was just about begging for us," Carlos adds.

Your boyfriend hums in acknowledgement and watches with the same unyielding eyes. "Still don't think this is the place to deal with it," he says.

They both huff out laughs. "Probably not," Chris agrees.

"Some privacy would be best," Carlos continues.

You stand there, trying not to squirm as they talk like you're not even there. None of them look at you nor directly address you. The conversation is between them, deciding your fate. You just wait to be handed your sentence.

"Maybe we should head back to our place. Make sure the booze didn't get to her too much," Leon proposes, as if it was entirely his idea he thought of in the moment.

"Sounds good to me," Carlos says, patting your hip before boosting you forward.

"Same here," Chris grins.

You stumble over to your boyfriend who takes you under his arm. He looks down at you as if he's disappointed, though you can see the desire in his eyes. The two of you snake back through the hall and toward the front door.

"Were they bothering you, sweetheart?" he asks like he's truly concerned.

"Mhm," you hum and nod against his chest.

Your pair keeps walking, waving at Rebecca and Billy and giving them brief thank you's before walking back outside into the brisk October air.

Like you planned Chris and Carlos wait a little before following your path. None of you wanted to make it too obvious what you had planned for the rest of the night.

Each of you makes it back to your and Leon's house in record time it seems. He drives you and himself while the other two trail on their own. They enter through your front door only a few minutes after you and your boyfriend settle on the couch.

After that feels like a blur. There's hands all over you. They pass you around from one lap to the other. Your clothes fall to the floor piece by piece until you're left bare. They talk but rarely to you.  The voices and touches all swirl together in one big mess until the three of you land in a collective position.

Leon looms above you, his piercing eyes locked onto your face. His hips roll against your center. He pumps his cock deep between your soaked velvety walls with each precise thrust. His hands cradle the back of your thighs, keeping them spread apart so that you can't shut him out. He grins down at you.

"You might think it's too much, baby, but she clearly doesn't," he teases, "So, so wet."

"I'm not even in your pussy, and I can feel that. Such a messy girl," the voice behind you says.

Chris sits below you. His warm bulky thighs support the parts of you Leon's hands can't. Your back rests against his chest while his strong hands play with your nipples. His dick is buried snug inside your ass. He's not moving, thank god. The stretch is enough to nearly reduce you to tears.

"She's messy up top too," the man above you adds with a grin, his thumb swiping away some spit that had dribbled from the corner of your mouth.

Carlos had your head between his palms. He kept a firm grip on you as leverage to rock his hips, sliding his length into the plush wetness of your throat. Deep groans and sighs leak from his mouth as his head falls back.

You whine around the girth of his shaft, but you can't squirm. There's so much going on. Even though you're in a relatively simple position, it feels as though you're tangled up with the three men surrounding you.

"No backing out now, baby. This is what you wanted," Leon taunts as he thrusts.

"Such a little slut. Your boyfriend isn't enough for you, huh?" Chris teases, nipping at the shell of your ear.

You whine louder around Carlos as he fucks your face, but he takes no mercy. He doesn't slide out to let you defend yourself. He slides as deep as he can, nestling your nose against the thick dark hair that curls above the base of his cock.

"Sounds like a yeah to me," he chuckles.

A soft gagging noise echoes from your throat and your eyes water. He holds his position for a few seconds longer before pulling back to give you a few moments to breathe. You gasp in a few breaths. Your head spins with the return of sufficient oxygen. But you still feel hazy from the two cocks inside you, one unmoving and keeping you constantly full, the other rocking back and forth, striking every little spot inside you.

"Leon," you cry. Your head falls back on Chris's shoulder, "Too much."

He smirks at your repeated protest and keeps going. "Nope. You can handle it, babydoll. You wanted to play with other guys, so I'm letting you."

Chris's fingers rub at your clit, causing you to tighten up around Leon. He hisses from above, but it only makes him move faster. The harder thrusts rock you on Chris's length. He grunts from the added stimulation and keeps the rough pads of his digits twirling around your sensitive little nub.

"That's right, sweetheart. Just relax and take it," he mutters in your ear.

Carlos strokes your cheek while jerking his cock right in front of your face. You watch as precum pearls at the tip, dripping from the slit in sticky beads.

"Fuck... you're pretty, so fucking cute," he mumbles from above you.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. The urge to squirm becomes more pronounced. Your clit throbs under Chris's tender fingers while your walls clamp down on your boyfriend.

"Wanna cum," you whimper desperately.

"What happened to too much? Thought you said no more?" Carlos mocks.

"Don't care. Just wanna cum now," you cry. Your lip juts out into a quivering pout as you feel the pleasure growing more intense and spreading from between your legs all throughout your body. Tears dew at your waterline, making your lashes shimmer.

"Again? So greedy," Chris tuts from behind.

But in front, Leon nods with self-satisfaction all across his face. "You can cum, angel. Go ahead. Just know it won't be the last one."

You whine at the idea. You wanted release so bad, but you were already so overstimulated. It's not like you had any control over it though. You were climbing to the peak fast, and there was no way of going back down. Watching Carlos stroke himself to the sight of you getting your insides rearranged had your tummy fluttering with the urge to let go.

You try to hold it. Try to prolong it a bit more so that they're closer and cum with you. But at a certain point, you can't hold back anymore. Your back arches off of Chris's chest, and your whines fill the air. You shudder in his arms, quivering between him and Leon. Release crashes over you, wave after wave. It feels like the euphoria will never end when Leon finally groans and bursts inside you.

His cum floods your insides, filling you up just how you need it. He tilts his head back and sighs as the feeling seeps into him. As you're feeling the added effects from his high, Carlos reaches his. He moans nice and loud before painting your face with white streaks. The warm sticky liquid lands on you in patternless blotches.

You whimper but not in protest. It was what you wanted. The only thing that would make it better is Chris filling up your other hole too, but he stays hard and still, not giving in just yet.

Your boyfriend comes to a halt with his thrusts and slowly pulls out. Some of his cum leaks out as his length leaves your cunt. You whine at the empty feeling.

"Hush," he murmurs as he steps back. He catches his breath from a distance, but he knows none of you are done. Even with him and Carlos temporarily spent, they'd get it back up soon enough. "So needy. You still got one of us inside you, and you're complaining."

"Easy thing to do is to just give her what she wants again," Carlos says, "You and I could switch since Redfield seems comfortable."

Your boyfriend nods, looking between you and the other man.

"Sound good, baby?" he asks as if you actually get a say, "Carlos will put another load in your pussy, and I'll let you actually swallow mine this time around."

Even though your cunt aches with all the pleasure it's endured and your jaw feels sore from taking a dick in your mouth for the last however long... you nod. Despite what you said, you hadn't had enough. You really didn't know if you ever would.

[leighsartworks216]

There Is No Love Purer Than Mine

Sylus x gn!Reader

Based on a video I can't find where a girl on one of those dating tv shows says "I love you" to a guy, and he asks her to repeat it again and again as his voice cracks. It's always stuck with me, and now I'm pulling it out of cold storage

Warnings: kissing, crying, declarations of love, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 625

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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The words stole the air from your lungs. You stare at Sylus, wide-eyed and trying to remember how to breathe, while he has the audacity to lounge nonchalantly against the sofa and watch.

He smirks at your reaction. His arms are stretched along the back of the couch. His sweater steals the intimidation from his face and invites you to curl into his side. You had been, moments ago, but then he said… He said…

“What’s the matter, kitten?” he asks. It’s playful, but his arm falls to brush a hand against your cheek, betraying the real concern behind the bravado.

You swallow. Your voice comes out as a whisper, still breathless and shaky. “Say it again.”

His smirk softens into a smile. He brushes some hair behind your ear. “I love you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “Again.”

This time, he sits forward. His other arm reaches out to hold your hand where it sits in your lap. He says it reverently. “I love you.”

It feels like your body has been dunked in a cold bath. Chills run up your arms. Your chest feels tight. He pulls your blanket tighter around you. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes. “Again…”

“I love you.” He leans forward until your foreheads touch. “I love you.” He cups your cheek and brushes away a tear with his thumb. His eyes never leave yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch - pressing your forehead insistently against his, tilting your face into his hand, shifting closer on the couch. Tears stick to your eyelashes before they fall down your cheeks. He brushes them away diligently. You squeeze his hand tightly.

“Is this okay?” he asks, voice low and gentle.

You nod immediately. His long fingers curl around your jaw, fingertips in your hair, holding you to him.

“I love you.”

It’s so soft you almost don’t feel it. The brush of his lips over yours. If you hadn’t feel his breath warming them, you wouldn’t have realized at all. You crack your eyes open to watch when you tilt your chin up, seeking a full, proper kiss.

He answers your demand. Stuttered and solid breaths merge, gasping every time your lips separate, preparing for the next moment they connect. Over and over. The salt of the popcorn clings to his lips, complimenting the salt of your tears. His tongue carries the distinct fruitiness of his wine as it seeks yours out. Tempered moans and sighs pass between each other.

When he pulls away, you strain your neck forward for more, but he presses his thumb to your lips instead. You blink your eyes open at him, glistening and red from crying.

For a second, you’re scared. Scared he’ll take it back. Scared he’ll toss you aside, laugh in your face, leave you behind. Scared he’ll leave a scar on your heart that will never fully mend.

But he doesn’t.

He kisses the corner of your mouth. Your cheek. Under your eye. Over your closed eyelid. When he pulls back, he doesn’t stray far.

“Come here, my beloved,” he coos as he pulls you into his side. You wrap your arms around his torso, bury your wet face into his sweater. He wraps both arms around you, too, a silent promise not to let go.

The movie is just background noise now. You have no idea what’s happening in the story and you can’t give a damn. When you rest your chin against him to look at his face, he’s not watching either.

“I love you…” you whisper, tentative. Testing the shark-infested waters and trusting he’ll save you.

And he does.

“I love you, too, kitten.”

---

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41

[sanemistar]

⋅˚₊‧ ᡣ𐭩 it'll be okay, my love

𝜗𝜚 kento x fem!reader, hurt to comfort, reader gets called (dear, love, darling), dedicated to: @iid-smile (idk who’s ur fav jjk character so i guessed you might like nanami ! anyways, i hope you feel better soon pookie i love u <33) 𝜗𝜚 back: jjk m.list

kento comes back home from work and the first thing he sees is your crying face as you sob on the couch in the living room, holding onto one of your husband's sweaters. his first reaction is to immediately run over to you and wrap you in a tight hug.

you have been feeling down lately and you’ve been crying a lot, but you’ve been trying hiding your sadness away from him because you don't want to worry him. you know kento has a lot to worry about on his plate, so the last thing you want is to add up to his burden.

however, unknowingly to you, kento has heard your small cries all along, and it has pained him every time. but whenever he asks you if you're okay you'd always reply that you're fine and there's nothing for him to worry about with a little smile.

"life's too hard, ken. i keep saying that i have to be strong, but i just can't do it." you've tried your best, you really have. but at that moment you've finally reached your breaking point, and you can no longer bottle your feelings up.

your tears that have been kept inside for too long begin to heavily fall down your red cheeks like a rainfall as you rest your head on kento's broad, firm chest. your arms wrapped around his torso for dear life. he pats your head with one hand, as his other one rubs your back up and down in a soothing motion, you begin to calm down as the crying slowly stops. he breaks the hug and cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently caress your hot cheeks as he wipes away the remaining tears.

"you've been holding on for too long now, have you, dear?" kento whispers softly against your ears. his tone is so gentle and comforting, like a warm blanket on a cold day. the look in his eyes is as soft as a feather.

“but i’m here for you, and always will be. you’re okay now, it'll be okay, my love.” kento reassures your as he tenderly kisses your temple, and you finally smile genuinely again for the first time in a while.

“i love you, so so much, kento.” you hum softly as you confess your love to your husband. he leans in, closing the gap between the two of you. his lips find home onto yours as they collide in a deep kiss that is so tender, so intimate and so affectionate.

“i love you too, my one and only, my darling.”

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @yueliie @spkyssn @ayrastv @sylusdoll

[gghostwriter]

Have Your Cake

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer notices a change in you that he tries to address Trope: Comfort; Established relationship w.c: 1.8k Trigger warnings: tackles eating disorder and body dysmorphia a/n: this is a really hard topic I personally felt the need to write about (in a way to comfort myself.) Its very personal as I used my past eating disorder here so if its something you’re not comfortable with, please go skip ahead to another fic. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

Spencer wrapped the front ends of his coat tighter on his slender body. It did little to no good fending off the cool seasonal air of an October night. His scuffled loafers squeaking from his shuffling feet. 

The line at your favorite bakery was unsurprisingly long on a Tuesday evening. Every night, the shop sells their remaining pastries at a discount To lure innocent commuters, tired from a long day of pushing papers. He usually wasn’t one to give in to the notion of ‘treating yourself’—unless counting out his big spendings on first editions written in its original language.

He gave the cashier a slight smile before listing off his purchase, one slice of their decadent strawberry shortcake and another of their vanilla bean sponge cake—both your favorites. And both an integral part of his perfectly thought of scheme to solve a riddle.

Your mystery.

In simple layman’s terms, they were bribery of some sort.

“Thank you,” he muttered under his breath, side stepping his way out from the throng of customers holding their own trays of pastries and back into the cold October air.

He blamed himself for not noticing the change in patterns early on. His attention otherwise preoccupied by the trauma from his time in prison and the stares that vary from judgement to pity that come from officers outside of the BAU.

No longer was he the shining, new prodigy once hailed to be, now he was just damaged goods. His downfall from grace was an adjustment.

His mind was another matter, all together—could no longer detect subtle shifts in behavior as fast as he used to.

Yes, there was really no one else to blame but himself.

As his long strides covered the way home, the moon shining down on the empty streets, Spencer thought back to the moment when he finally noticed you eating less and less.

———

You pulled down the cuffs of Spencer’s Caltech sweater, leaving only the tips of your fingers peeking through. Everything about it made you self-conscious. How it drapes down your shoulders differently from before. How it wraps around your body, sending shivers down your spine. And how it leaves the lower half of your plush thighs exposed for anyone to see—anyone to judge. 

You hated it.

You hated how hyper aware a single comment from a distant relative made you feel.

**

A voice from a distance called out your name causing you to look around the aisles of grocery and come face to face with an aunt, twice removed from your father’s side. 

“It is you!” She leaned in to kiss your cheek. Her choice of perfume, a sickly sweet artificial scent of oranges, wafting on your nose.

It made you want to gag.

A fake smile donned your face. “Oh, hi Auntie. What a surprise to see you back in Virginia.”

“Oh, I just flew in for my husband’s sister’s birthday. You know how we are, always booked and busy with events,” she waved her hand, the ostentatious diamond ring on her finger catching the light. “I haven’t seen you since you graduated college. You look so different now—more and more like your mother.”

“Thanks, I always did look like her,” you awkwardly laughed.

Her eyes traveled down to your feet and back up again, a tight grin on her face. It made her look vicious, condescending, causing you to catch your breath as she uttered the words that would repeat in your head like a commercial slogan you can’t get away from.

“But you were much prettier when you were thinner—” her eyebrow raised, cataloguing the items in your cart. “Might want to cut down on the carbs a little bit, sweetie.”

She poked a wound inside of you that never seemed to fully heal.

You thought you were better, all those years of talking to your therapist and changing your relationship with food for the better made you believe those dark days were behind you. But those spitting phrases veiled as words of care from a family member amplified the doubts once buried in the recesses of your mind.

“I’ll keep that in mind. It was great seeing you, Auntie.”

**

The jiggling of keys brought you back to the present.

“Love, I’m home!”

You called back from the kitchen, finishing up plating tonight’s dinner—a fresh serving of Chicken Alfredo to share. “In here, Spence!”

With a saccharine smile on his tired but beautiful face, he wrapped his arms around your shoulder for a loving hug. His pillowy lips leaving trails of kisses from your temples, to your nose, to your cheeks, and finally landing on your awaiting lips. 

You giggled at his antics. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you too,” another peck on the lips. “Dinner looks amazing. Thank you for cooking.”

“It’s no problem at all, you know how much I like to cook for you.”

He brought up a mystery package to showcase, eyes tracking every minuscule change on your face. “And I brought us some dessert! Your favorites from the bakery.” 

The smile on your face threatened to drop. “That’s—that’s great!”

———

You felt Spencer’s eyes on you all throughout dinner. One of the disadvantages of dating a man who earns his living by understanding human behavior and its changes—triggers, as he would like to call it, is never having the leisure of keeping a secret.

He means well, you‘d like to believe so, but that didn’t change the fact he knew something was bothering you. 

It made you feel like a riddle he wanted to solve. It made you want to scream and cry.

The only reprieve you could get was within the little confines of your shared bathroom, water beating down your back muffling the sobs that escaped from your tightly pressed lips.

Everything felt too much. 

The devil voices in your head listing off the calories each spoonful contains. The mathematical equation of how long you’d need to exercise to lose every unnecessary bite eaten over dinner. And the facade of keeping everything together—everything perfect.

You picked off the sides of your nails, already raw and starting to bleed. 

Maybe you shouldn’t eat breakfast and lunch tomorrow. Maybe you should walk the 15 minute commute from here to the office. It would take 30 minutes but that’s additional exerc—

“Love, is everything alright?” Spencer asked behind the locked bathroom door. 

You turned, turning off the shower, before hurriedly toweling off the droplets all over your hair and body. “Yes, I’m—I’m almost done!”

Swiveling around the dry area, you realized you forgot to bring in a change of clothes beyond a clean pair of underwear.

You sighed to yourself as you wrapped the towel around your chest. Still feeling uncomfortable and oddly naked even then. 

“Spence, there’s still some hot water left—are you okay?” You ask, having found him sitting on the edge of the bed with a distinct frown on his face. 

He stood up. Hands on your waist, shuffling both your bodies closer to one corner of bedroom.“It’s just—you know how much I deeply care for you, right?”

You slowly answered. “Yes, of course. I deeply care for you too.”

“So I have to ask, are you alright? Really alright?”

“Wha—what do you mean? Of course, I am—I’m completely fine,” you vehemently denied. The lump on your throat making you sound hysterical, even in your ears. If you couldn’t fool yourself, what chances were there that Spencer was fooled—none.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been eating smaller portions lately and you didn’t even take a bite of the cakes I brought home. You’ve also been going to the gym daily, instead of your usual five times a week. And you’ve started wearing my clothes more—not that it’s a problem. I love seeing you in my clothes but you’ve started to prefer baggy silhouettes rather than your usuals. It’s like you’re hiding your body. Are you sure you’re alright? You can tell me anything, I won’t judge.” 

It was the soft tone in his voice mixed with his doe, teary eyes that caused you to break under pressure. Your shoulders shook as sobs that you’ve kept bottled up rose to the surface. It was a wave of emotions that battered through your dam of facade. 

“I hate how I look—I hate that I gained weight,” you cried out. “I hate how a relative pointed it out and how her words won’t leave my mind. I hate it, Spence. I loathe it all—the voices in my head whispering how I should keep track of every meal I eat in a notebook like I did before. Telling me to never go beyond a 800 calories per day, to workout two hours a day twice! It’s just—” you took a deep breath, vision blurring from tears. “—so exhausting and please, make it stop.”

Spencer hugged you tight to his chest, as if wanting to merge you two as one to take away all your pain and sorrow. Your hands creasing his white button down with a grip so tight. 

For a second, it felt liberating to let it all out. But the fleeting emotion had passed, leaving you with only shame from your admittance.

“I’m so sorry you feel that way,” he detangled himself, enough to stare into your eyes. “Love, can I show you something?”

You nodded. He slowly turned you around, back against his chest, to face the full length mirror tucked in the corner. His eyes never leaving yours as his calloused fingers reached up to the tucked ends of the towel wrapped around your body. He tilted his head, asking for your permission to which you slowly nodded.

Your naked body was in full view. Your nails digging onto your palm as you catalogued every minuscule flaw there is—the additional flesh around your stomach and sides and your hips no longer as thin as they were before.

“Do you know what I see?” He softly asked.

You bit your lip before shutting your eyes close, unable to take what was right in front of you. “Me and how I gained weight?”

He placed a kiss on your temple. “No. I see a beautiful adult woman who has curves in all the right places—”

He laid a kiss on your cheek. “I see the love of my life in her full loving glory—”

He kissed the side of your neck. “I see my future wife who loves herself and all the changes that aging and our slowing metabolism entails—”

He placed one last kiss on your shoulder. “—I see you, and I love every piece of you. And I hope you love every part as much as I do.”

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[schmidtsbimbo]

★ Older bf Mike Schmidt Headcanons ★

𖦹 Warnings: afab reader, pet names, slightly suggestive, age gap relationship, perv!mike if you squint

⋆｡°‧Requests are open! Comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated ♡

―୨୧⋆ ˚ A/N: thinking about older bf mike has had my brain mushy all day and I had to get it out of my system so this is super short , this has not been proofread ^_^

Olderbf!mike who isn’t too much into pda but still holds your hand because he knows you love it, occasionally wrapping his arms around your waist or shoulders when he’s feeling a little bolder. However, when you’re both alone he cannot keep his hands off of you. He’ll sneak up behind you while you’re cooking and snake his hands around your waist from behind, his head resting in the crook of your neck. When he’s driving his unoccupied hand is always resting on your thigh, his thumb gently rubbing small circles against your skin.

Olderbf!mike who loves how different your aesthetics are. You show up to gatherings in pink tracksuits or small skirts and tight shirts, mike trailing behind you in his blue jeans and grey zip up sweater. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom in a plain T-shirt and boxers while you’re doing your makeup, admiring the way you apply your favorite pink lipstick on your lips and the way you bat your eyes in the mirror after applying mascara

Olderbf!mike who almost never calls you by your actual name. He calls you all sorts of names like sweetheart, baby, princess, and his absolute favorite name to call you being pretty girl. so much so that he has it as your contact name on his phone. He used to be a little hesitant to call you any of these names in public but three months in any trace of hesitation was gone

Olderbf!mike who is incredibly overprotective at times. After the Garrett incident he can’t even fathom losing you too, if you go anywhere he’ll be right by your side. Nail appointment? Random shopping trip? Hair appointment? He’s right there trailing right behind you. If for whatever reason he can’t go with you, he bought you some pepper spray that you thought was a little excessive but he insisted on it because “you never know”

Olderbf!mike who secretly eats up the age gap between you two. Sure, when he found out your age he was a little hesitant about the whole thing but it certainly didn’t stop him. He still gets a little sheepish when you drag him out to hang out with your friends and he realizes the age difference really does affect some of your interests

Olderbf!mike who can’t help but sneak a glance up your skirt when you drop something and bend over to pick it up. He can never keep his eyes off you, especially when you wear low cut shirts. He thinks you don’t notice but you definitely do. You’re almost teasing him and using it to your advantage when you notice, wearing something a little provocative when you want a small favor from him

[cherubfae]

𝔱𝔶𝔭𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔨𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔰 || {𝔧𝔧𝔨}

ft. Gojo, Geto, Sukuna, Yuji, Megumi, Choso, Toji, & Nanami

tags: a bit of spicyness, fluff, cuteness, gn!reader, comfort, sukuna is a brat/bit of blood/biting in his

Gojo

He can be so goofy!! And noisy. Kind of like he's eating hot soup. When Gojo wants to be really silly and extra he'll press his lips to yours with a loud "Mwuah!" He knows it leaves you embarrassed and oh so adorably red-- he adores it! Behind closed doors, he's much more passionate. One arm wrapped around your back holding you to his chest with the other gently stroking along your skin. Every gentle kiss with him he treats like his last. He wants to engrain the memory of him into your lips.

Other times, when he's needy, he'll pucker up his lips like a fish and chase you around your shared apartment until you eventually relent if only to appease this goober's blubbering.

Geto

Sweet, good morning kisses. When the sun's first rays settle across the sheets, decorating your bodies in stripes of golden light. The warmth is pleasant, serene, and a peaceful aroma in the air. As you gently stir beside him, Geto is already awake smiling down at you, black hair hanging in front of his shimmering eyes. Instantly he leans in slowly, with you leaning up to meet his lips in a brief kiss. Good morning, my love. Sleep well? Good. I'm glad.

Sukuna

Rough, rough, rough. He's the type of prick to squeeze your chin and cheeks between a single hand and press his lips firmly to yours. It's tight, you can feel his teeth behind his lips. He wants you bruised and certainly a tiny bit bloody. Sukuna must have some weird oral fixation because he's always nipping at your throat and neck, littering your skin in pretty red and purple marks. And of course, any blood that comes to the surface he'll gladly clean away with his tongue. (Unhygienic, dude.)

Yuji

Extra blushy kisses! Yuji is so super duper excited to kiss you! He's not experienced, like at all, not unless you count the times he's practiced on his pillow or any of his posters. He does this thing where his nose scrunches up, lips puckered, and leans down. The second your lips touch the light sakura-pink dusting across his cheeks explodes into a cute, cherry red.

Megumi

Bold of you to assume he's not absolutely freaking out internally. He's a pretty reserved young man. It took him quite a while to have the courage to hold your hand, let alone kiss you! When Megumi does get the courage up, his kisses are quick and very brief. Barely there, like a fluttering butterfly, before he's turning tail and stiffly walking off. It takes him some time to get comfortable. The further your relationship grows, the more confident he feels in expressing himself, however, always behind closed doors. He prefers any affection he shows you to be for your eyes alone.

Choso

He's a sweetheart honestly. Determined to show you how much he cares for you. To prove that he can always be better than the day before, the hour before. Perfection is when his arm curves around your back, warm palm electrifying your senses. His lips are soft against yours, pressing slow, testing, smiling into your touch. He wants to be your big, strong, protector so bad :((

Toji

Everything with Toji is rough around the edges. Your first few kisses may be a little rough. He grips your chin a little too tight between his thumb, middle, and pointer finger pulling you in for a rather hard brief kiss. It's only after the third or fourth kiss you share that Toji softens up a little. His large hand cups the side of your jaw, finger caressing the line of your jaw as his lips press to yours. It's softer, the way your lips mold together. Your hands sliding naturally to the front of his sweater and his free hand moves to grip your waist. The second that little gasp leaves your lips, Toji has you in his lap; his tongue swirling with yours.

Nanami

Ever the gentleman, he greets you with a soft kiss before he leaves for work and once more when he returns home. It's absolutely his favorite part of the day! On particularly stressful days, Nanami desires having you as close as possible. He adores leaving sweet kisses along your jaw, peppering your cheeks, nibbling at your earlobe. And then finally, there are his passionate kisses. The ones where he comes home after a shift, expression grave, and eyes drooping low. He clings to you on those nights especially, heart racing and pretty lips turned downwards. It takes him a while to return to normal, but that doesn't stop him from kissing you. Like he's trying to soak up your every being, mapping out how you feel, tethering himself to this plane of existence.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛ�� ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[htchnr]

♰ turn into the noise ༻ LOGAN HOWLETT.*ೃ˚

✮ꜜ masterlist. ✮ꜜ buy me a ko-fi!

content warning non described problem that makes you feel awful ⋆ sickeningly sweet fluff ⋆ hurt/comfort ⋆ unmentioned age gap ⋆ Logan is so sweet and gentle i'm gonna throw up ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

pairing old man!Logan.

summary after a long and difficult day, all you want is Logan. so he takes care of you, gently rubbing away at your worries until you feel a little better. or, i need a hug from him and decided to write it. wordcount 1,1k.

authors note requests for Logan are open!! please look at my request rules and remember that i ONLY write female readers/oc's!

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

Logan hears the truck pulling up outside the cabin as he finishes up doing the dishes. he dries his hands, already moving to the front door to greet you. his smile drops however when he sees your scrunched up face, clearly trying to hold back tears.

" what's goin' on, honey? " his voice is gentle, dropping the dish towel on the small table by the door.

you shut the door and drop the keys into the hand carved wooden bowl Logan made you a few years ago on the same table. you shake your head, eyes shut as you try not to let the tears slip down. " oh, sweetheart, " he mutters, big, calloused hands reaching for you. they pull you in by your shoulders, wrapping his strong arms around you as he holds you tight.

you clench your eyes shut as you bury your face into his warm, firm chest — trying so hard to keep it all in. but the moment those two words sound from his lips, the dams break. you let out a sob, your own shaky arms wrapping around him.

Logan's heart breaks at each sob as he holds you, not daring to let go. he sinks with you as your knees buckle, carefully lowering you down to your knees as you clutch at the back of his flannel.

he holds you like this for what feels like an eternity, your smaller frame shaking against his larger and sturdy frame with each brutal sob.

you slowly calm down, your sobs reducing to sniffles as you slouch against him in his arms. " let's get you out of these clothes and into somethin' more comfortable, yeah? " his voice gentle and raspy.

you nod against his chest, clinging to him as he easily lifts you up and into his arms as he carries you to your shared bathroom. Logan sits you down on the toilet seat cover, kneeling before you with a grunt as he gently takes off your shoes. he presses occasional kisses to your shins, slowly pulling off your socks and setting the shoes aside along with the socks.

Logan shuffles around to kneel beside you, helping you shrug off your coat, which he lays on top of your shoes. he gets up with groans and the pops of his knees, moving to stand between your knees. his rough hands pull your sweater up and you raise your arms as much as you can muster to aid him. he pulls the sweater over your head and drops it with your coat.

next are your jeans — he wraps an arm behind your torso and lifts you up enough to pull them down your hips. he carefully rests you back down, kneeling down again with the audible protest from his knees to pull your jeans down your thighs. he trails sweet kisses down each inch of newly exposed skin, laying your jeans on top of the pile.

he stands up, not without another groan and crack of his old metal bones. " c'mon, sweet girl, let's get that makeup off, we're almost done. " his voice is low, not wanting to break the peaceful and healing spell that's woven around your two.

you nod and Logan lifts you up and gently sets you down on the cold marble of the counter. he leans down, ever so sweetly lifting your legs to open a drawer to grab a few of your makeup wipes. he closes the drawer, easing your legs back down.

he opens the pack, a calloused yet painfully gentle hand coming up to hold the side of your face. he pulls out a wipe with his other hand and tenderly starts wiping off your makeup. you close your eyes as he swipes at the product on your skin, nuzzling your face into his warm and welcoming palm.

he smiles sadly, his thumb rubbing a few loving figures against your cheekbone before holding the other side of your face. he grabs a new wipe, his thumb rubbing figures into the clean and slightly slippery skin as he wipes off the remainder of the product.

he presses a few more swipes across your skin, dropping the used wipes into the small trash can beside the counter. " there we go, all done. " his voice soothes, wrapping his strong arms around your shoulders as he pulls you against his chest once more.

you more than happily accept, burying your face against his chest as you wrap your arms around his waist. he sighs sadly, pressing a firm kiss to the top of your head. " tell me when you're ready to let me in. i'll always be here, however long it takes. " your face scrunches up as you nod, a few tears dripping down your cheeks and soaking into his flannel.

he presses one more kiss to the crown of your head before he pulls away. " let's get you into bed and comfortable, yeah? " you nod, sniffling as you try to wipe your tears away. Logan takes a hold of your hand, in their stead he lovingly and gently wipes away your tears with the comforting pad of his thumb.

he picks you up, his old metal bones protesting a little as he carries you up the stairs to the bedroom. he slowly lays you down onto the soft blankets, moving away only to pull his own clothes off. he moves to pull the blankets back enough for him to get in, pulling you against him as he lifts the blankets over you.

you let out a shaky yawn as you curl up against Logan's bear chest, your soft fingers tiredly dragging across the plain of his scarred skin. he wraps his arms around you, pulling your top leg over his hip as he holds you as close as he can. " i'll stay for as long as you need. " he mutters, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

you bury your face in the crook of his neck, placing a silent kiss of appreciation to his skin.

it seemed impossible the moment you came through the door — but now in Logan's arms, you feel as though tomorrow, and all the days after don't look so dark anymore.