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orchidsangel · 4 months

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MY BABY, MY BABY. YOU'RE MY BABY, SAY IT TO ME. (JT)

notes/cw ~ fluff, minor(ish) angst, fem!reader, talks of having a baby, idk i just had really bad dad!jason brain rot and i felt like i had to share it with my lovely angels, (2.3k)

The sound of laughter rings through your house like jingle bells during the holiday season, pitter patters of tiny feet tumbling against hardwood floors, and bigger ones chasing after them invade your ears. Squeals of laughter pour out through an open window as you pull bags of groceries out of the trunk of your car, the sound of running dying down when the trunk closes with a thump. "Is mommy home?" You hear a familiarly sweet voice say. "I think she is. Come on, let's see if we can beat her to the door."

Bags in hand, you walk up the pathway to the entrance of your house. The street of your suburban neighborhood, mostly empty on this chilly winter night, save for some residents walking their dogs before lights get turned off. The sound of a lock clicks before you're even halfway up the path, and soon after, you're met with Jason and your daughter standing in the doorway looking ridiculous, goofy grins on both of their faces. Red bows are hidden amongst his hair, some tied around short braids, some just hanging loosely on a few strands bunched together. Pink pajama pants peek out from under the red tutu she's wearing, and she dons pink ballet slippers on her feet as if she's about to perform the Nutcracker.

He steps outside, meeting you at the top of the steps, hooking his fingers under the canvas straps of your reusable tote bags—an investment you'd made to offset some of the carbon emissions from his bike—and takes them into his hands. "New hair, huh?" you ask, eyeing the variety of red satin ribbons tied in knots littering the expanse of his head. "Yeah, you like?" He asks, turning towards you, lowering his head a bit so you can get a better look. You roll your eyes, but there's a smile playing on your lips at the image of Jason sitting down while your daughter's tiny hands play hairdresser with bows and barrettes.

You close the front door behind him as he makes his way toward the kitchen to unpack the groceries, turning your attention to the little girl in front of you sporting a toothy grin. "I thought ballet ended hours ago," you say, eyeing the layers of bright red tulle you had previously hidden to avoid the specks of glitter that shed every time she moved. "She had to practice her pirouettes." you hear Jason say from inside the fridge. "Yeah, mommy. I was practicing my pirouettes." She pouts her lips and cocks her head to the side, small hands fidgeting as she tries to use cuteness to get out of trouble. You cross your arms and squint your eyes at her, "Uh huh. And the hair?" You gesture to Jason, walking toward you. "What does that have to do with pirouettes?"

He joins the two of you in the living room holding up a container of Gerber baby puffs, using them as a distraction to get both him and his little girl out of trouble. "What?" You ask, deadpan. "What d'ya mean what? We've got an infant I don't know about?" Your daughter gasps, eyes lighting up suddenly. "A sibling!" He laughs, turning towards you with a raised eyebrow. "No, you jerk. Him, not you, honey," you say, quickly correcting yourself. "They're for me." You snatch the container of blueberry-flavored rice puffs out of his hand, peeling off the lid and shoving a handful into your mouth. "God forbid women enjoy things."

You pop a few more into your mouth before feeling a tug at the coat you still hadn't taken off. When you look down, you're met with your daughter, mouth open and waiting for you to share. She stares at you with wide eyes, using your inability to say no to her to her advantage. Sighing, you raise the container a bit and pause, "Only a few, and you have to get ready for bed after." she nods her head, mouth still open, and you tilt and pour out a substantial amount. She closes her mouth and displays her adorable little smile once again before running off to the bathroom to brush her teeth. "Hold on," Jason shouts down the hallway. "Say thank you to your mom!" You hear feet running again, and soon enough, feel the soft squeeze of your daughter giving you a hug; she presses her head into your lower abdomen as you bring your hand up to softly stroke her hair. "Thank you, Mommy." She says before moving on to Jason and giving an equally soft hug despite using all her might. "And thank you, Daddy, for letting me do your hair." She lets go and scurries off again, leaving a trail of red glitter in her wake for you to clean up.

She disappears into the bathroom, and you watch the hallway, now empty, as she gets ready for bed. You sigh, listening to the sound of water running while she independently does her end-of-the-night tasks, something you'd still helped her with not too long ago. Jason's arms creep around your waist, pulling you against him. His chin rests on your shoulder, and you feel something tickle your neck, but you're not sure if it's his hair or a ribbon. He notices the solemn look in your eyes, a stark contrast to the liveliness he'd seen in you just a few moments ago. "What's wrong? Is it the glitter? Because I can clean that up." He says. "No, not that." You nibble on your bottom lip, lost in thought, trying to organize your feelings. "Just… she's gotten so big." He hums in acknowledgment, his way of saying he shares the sentiment. "I just don't know where the time went." You mumble, overcome with an unexpected sadness. "She's only five." He says into your neck, bringing his hands up to your shoulders and gently pulling off the coat you'd forgotten to take off. "Yeah, but she was just a baby not that long ago. I swear."

The both of you watch her move between her bedroom and the bathroom, soft dark brown curls bouncing with every movement. At five, she was already more responsible than most children her age, having a pretty concrete idea of right and wrong well before most kids do. Responsible for her age, but still just a baby in the grand scheme of everything, and sometimes the two of you would wonder if Jason's occupation might end up inadvertently affecting her and warping her idea of justice, but those fears were almost always disproven as soon as they came and oftentimes you didn't worry more than a few minutes. "We're doing a good job." He says from behind you, rubbing your back in an attempt to take away some of the worry. Normally, it would go away with ease, today, not so much. "We're not bad parents." You say with conviction, but you both know you're just trying to convince yourself of it. "We're not. You know we're not."

He turns you around to face him, away from the hallway, so you can't dwell any longer. His hands move to your upper arms, kneading gently as he searches for your eyes. "What's wrong? Talk to me." You struggle to make eye contact, unsure of your next words. "I think…I think I want another baby." You breathe out, looking down, unable to meet his gaze. Seconds pass, but they feel like minutes, and you barely breathe while you wait for his reaction. Not a single thing in the universe could've prepared you for the words that come out of his mouth. "Is that all? Is that what you were sulking about?" You look up at him, eyes wide, as he lets out a breathy laugh. Oh Jason, your Jason, taking your face in his hands and leaning down so he can look you in your eyes. "Don't scare me like that again, okay? Do you know how fucked up shit has to be for me to be the optimist out of the two of us?" It's your turn to laugh now, a weight having been lifted off your shoulders. "Language," you warn. "Aw, come on, she's way out of earshot." He bends down and presses his lips against yours; you close your eyes, leaning into him, hands finding his chest as you feel all of your worries melt away.

"Blegh."

The sudden sound of a disgusted child, your disgusted child, pulls you away from Jason, and you wipe your mouth in embarrassment. It's just your daughter, but you still feel like a kid who's just been caught stealing candy and is about to get lectured into oblivion; Jason, however, handles it with ease. Taking on a playfully stern tone and pointing an accusatory finger at her, he asks, "Why are you up, little lady? Shouldn't you be in bed?" She mirrors his action, pointing a finger at him now. "You didn't tuck me in or read me my bedtime story." He puts his thumb and forefinger on his chin, seemingly thinking it over. "Hmmm, seems you've got me there." He shrugs before picking her up into his arms and giving her a kiss on the forehead. "You've gone soft," you say with a laugh, the embarrassment of being caught having passed. "What can I say? She's bossy. Gets it from her mama." You nudge his shoulder lightly as he turns in the direction of her room. "Alright, that's enough out of you."

He leaves the door to her bedroom slightly cracked, and you can hear their whispers as they do their nightly routine of picking out a book to read, followed by her falling asleep in his arms. "What do you have in mind tonight?" He asks, laying her down gently on the bed adorned with princess sheets and stuffed animals he'd bought for her during trips around the world. "Can we finish Lord of the Rings?" She grabs her favorite stuffie, a gray bunny with droopy ears and button eyes, and holds it close to her chest as Jason climbs in beside her. "I don't think we can finish it, but we can fit a few pages in before it's time for you to go to sleep. That work for you?" He leans over the side of the bed and picks up a worn copy of Lord of the Rings that had been sitting on top of a stack of books he kept in her room solely for the purpose of bedtime. She nods her head at his question and snuggles further into him as he flips to the page they left off at.

You hear the sound of rustling and know the bedtime story has commenced, leaving you to clean up the mess of glitter and ribbons. Broom in hand, you start to sweep up the remnants of her "pirouette practice." Going up and down the hallway, sweeping back and forth. You catch a glimpse of the photos in the frames lining your wall before coming to a full stop and reminiscing about how far you guys have come. There were some pictures from when it was just the two of you, but most of those were kept digital, hidden amongst miscellaneous screenshots and disorganized photo albums. The majority of the framed photos came after she was born; something so special about being able to hold a photo of the three of you in your hands, to have it on display in your home proudly saying this is my family. Corny, maybe, but you'd never regretted starting the collection, especially since it had been Jason's idea. He'd been insistent that you keep a scrapbook to commemorate your ever-changing lives, but after realizing neither of you had the knack for cutting and gluing bits of paper onto pretty pages, you'd settled on the wall. Now, you look at them so often and always with fondness. Oh, how things had changed since that day, you'd met so long ago.

You don't know how long you'd been standing there, but you hear a door closing softly, and you turn to see Jason trying to make his way into the hallway with minimal noise. "Is she asleep?" You ask, barely above a whisper. "Out like a light." He says, joining you in front of the framed memories. A picture of her as a newborn, freshly discharged from the hospital, catches his eye, "she was really tiny, wasn't she?" He says, voice cracking a little as he remembers the overwhelming fear he'd experienced when you were in labor and how it all went away once he had held her in his arms. You hum in agreement as you both get lost in pictures of her from the past. Birthdays and holidays, family events and major milestones, there was a picture for everything.

There was one of her on his shoulders; she couldn't have been more than two at the time, her tiny fingers laced through locks of jet-black hair. You remember like it was yesterday; she had just watched Ratatouille and was trying to imitate Remy. He had played into it, and he couldn't get her off his shoulders for days after that. Another, taken from her first trip to the beach. You sit behind her, keeping her upright and holding her arms out, making one wave at Jason, who was behind the camera. You smile to yourself, the two of you standing outside of your daughter's bedroom, mostly content, remembering what it was like to have a baby in your arms. The memory of bringing her home floods his brain; how nervous he was yet so insanely happy he couldn't control the smile on his face. A shaky laugh falls from his lips as he pulls down a picture of the three of you still in the hospital, thumb pressed against the glass like he's trying to physically feel the moment. "Yeah…I could do it again."

been working on this almost non stop for 9 hours, literally my longest fic yet (only by like 600 words, but still !!!), special thanks to @kiyozu (my beloved) for giving me this idea !! eek, hope you guys enjoyed it <33 (user orchidsangel is going to sleep now) (also tried following up dialogue with actions this time, gonna see how that goes bc if it’s too hard to follow along with i’ll just go back to he said she said)

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd angst #jason todd fic #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x fem!reader #red hood fluff #red hood angst #jason todd i’ll love you forever #divider by benkeibear

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thefreakandthehair · 2 months

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we feel a little warmer now.

rating: teen & up | wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-typical injuries, pre-relationship, getting together, fluff, light hurt/comfort | prompt: love is a fire that never goes out @steddielovemonth & a happy birthday gift for @henderdads! title from the woods, by hollow coves.

February in Indiana is still the dead of winter— cornfields are barren, trees sway in the wind without their leaves, and the sky seems to have a sheer layer of grey even on the cloudless days.

Eddie’s always loved winter. The shorter days followed by longer nights, snowy Sundays, watching the smoke from a joint or cigarette dance in the freezing air, and excuses to do donuts in the local abandoned grocery store parking lot. He’s always loved winter, or at least he did until his world shattered at his feet, leaving him with injuries that take ages to heal and scars that leave him perpetually cold.

It’s been difficult to explain, even to the people who’d lived it with him. He can’t fully enjoy winter anymore because the cold seeps into his bones, maybe through the scars, maybe just because of the nerve damage. He’ll never know for sure because Hawkins General doesn’t exactly have a Demobat Specialist on staff so he just keeps it to himself.

Well, mostly. Steve knows.

Hiding anything from Steve has proven impossible. His constant chill, his frustration with the new but still-improving limp, the grief, the guilt, the confusing simultaneous euphoria of survival. The only secret he’s managed to keep is the big fat crush he’s harbored, probably since Steve helped find him in the woods.

Maybe earlier. Maybe since high school. He tries not to think about it too much.

The point is, Steve knows and even if Eddie hasn’t said that it breaks his heart to lose the quiet winter nights smoking on the porch or the hood of his van, Steve figures that out, too.

He must, because Eddie nearly jumps out of his freezing skin when knuckles rap on the front door of his and Wayne’s new trailer. There’s a system these days: check the peep hole, crack the door with the chain still attached to confirm, and only then does Eddie open the door completely. An unfortunate system, but he’s far from the town hero that Steve’s been hailed as, albeit against his will.

Speaking of, through the peep hole, he sees Steve standing on his porch wrapped in what looks like a thick hoodie and winter coat.

“Who goes there?” Eddie asks, cracking the door and peering out with one eye.

“It’s me, you ass. Let me in, I have a surprise.”

The door chain unhooks with a metallic click and Steve enters the trailer like he belongs there.

Because he does, Eddie thinks.

“A surprise? For me? Oh, do tell.”

Steve stands in the living room, a live wire if Eddie’s ever seen one. His hair is a little messy, as though he’s been raking his fingers through it. His nose is pink, complemented by his frosty cheeks, and his eyes are wide and wild.

“If it’s overstepping or whatever, we can pretend I never mentioned it but I know how much you miss winter nights. And I uh, I built a fire pit at my house?” His voice pitches up, as though it’s a question.

“You built a fire pit? Today?”

Steve nods. “Yeah. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be honestly, time consuming but, yeah. I built a fire pit. And I was thinking that maybe with the fire and some blankets and a good jacket— a real winter coat, not just your leather jacket— you might be able to get some of that back.”

Eddie tries his best not to think about Steve lugging brick pavers and forcing them into place, thinking about Eddie and his stupid broken internal thermostat. Wanting to give him back something the Upside Down took. Worrying Eddie would somehow see this as overstepping.

It’s a quick Yes and even quicker drive to Loch Nora, a drive that Eddie’s always found hilarious. How can two neighborhoods exist so close together but feel like different worlds?

The whole way there, Eddie keeps Steve talking. If Steve’s talking, there’s less room for Eddie to spill yet another truth inadvertently, the only one left to spill. Instead, he asks questions about work, and Robin, and if he’s heard from his parents.

(“It sucks,” “she’s great,” “nope”. In that order.)

Pulling into the driveway, Eddie hops out of the car as best he can in one of Wayne’s old winter coats and follows Steve to the backyard. His jaw drops when he sees exactly what Steve’s done. More than a simple circle of bricks, there’s a pit made of concrete blocks in the center of a larger circle filled with wood chips and grey pavers marking the perimeter. Wood logs are already split in a pile off to the side next to two lawn chairs and dear God, Eddie really hopes that Steve bought that already split. He’s still not over him swinging on demobats with his bare hands, and the image of him with an axe is enough to put him down for good.

“C’mon, I’ll get it started,” Steve nudges their shoulders together and walks through the pit to the stack of logs.

Steve gets a roaring fire going, the kind that cracks and burns both red and blue, and passes Eddie an extra blanket. Flames dance beneath the clear sky, speckled with stars that do little to distract him from how unbearably warm he is for the first time in months.

People don’t just do things like this for him, not without expectation or out of obligation. So much of Eddie’s life has felt like a spectrum spanning from pity to transactional with very few exceptions in between.

Then again, Steve feels like an exception to a lot of things.

“Why?” Eddie eventually asks, exhaling a puff of cigarette smoke like a kid seeing his breath.

Steve shrugs and tosses the butt of his own cigarette into the flames. “You lost enough down there, and I know how that feels. If there’s something easy enough to fix, I want to. You deserve that.”

Eddie turns and sees Steve smiling, just a soft upturn of his lips as he looks up at the sky. His face is flushed and Eddie wants to think it’s not from the flames.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Eddie says, scooting his chair over close enough for the arms of their chairs to nearly touch.

Steve looks back from the sky to Eddie, long lashes and the scar on his neck on full display.

“That a good thing?”

Eddie nods. “Oh yeah, definitely. Maybe the best thing.”

They sit outside for hours, eventually sharing a blanket draped around their shoulders and a first kiss that lights him up from the inside.

Eddie’s warm long after the fire burns out.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steddielovemonth #myblurbs #please consider reblogging if you enjoy <3 #also the song really lends a vibe to this and it's one of my favs so consider this a music rec too lmao

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writersblog20 · 1 year

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Sunflower 🌻

Pedro Pascal x reader

Credits to the gif maker!!!

Summary: When your hot neighbor, Pedro Pascal, forgot to close his curtains while he was pleasing himself, you caught him. You feared the worst but maybe it was for the best that your parents were away for a while

Warnings: SMUT, mention of spying, The reader is still a virgin. Age-gap (reader is in the mid-twenties), P in V, no condom (don’t do it, please), jerking off, slight voyeurism, mention of panic attack, Fingering, overstimulation, a bit of dark Pedro in the beginning, reader is slightly naïve, unexperienced reader, squirting, chocking, calling Pedro daddy, oral Female receiving, blowjob, creampie, daddy issues if you squint, Pedro GUIDES the reader through it, a bit of DD/Lg vibes, Dom/sub dynamic, dirty talk, and I think that’s it

Words: 4,8K

Sunflower🌻

Pedro was your hot neighbor, who you had a crush on before the famous actor even moved across from you. It was a well preserved neighborhood and your parents were good friends with Pedro, much to your annoyance. You see, there were so many countless of nights were you would stay up, reading smut about your favorite neighbor, watch them edits and mostly, losing count on how much you’ve touched yourself thinking it was him. You watched all of his movies and series that he was in and now you were following him in the Last of us and god did your crush grew ten folded when you watched him in that show.

You were in your mid-twenties and still a virgin. Yeah, you chose to have it that way. Waiting for the right person and the moment you saw Pedro, you knew he was the one you wanted to give it to. Your room had, obviously, a window but sometimes, if you were lucky, you could see Pedro in his own house. You lost count at how many times you’ve spied on your neighbor but you really couldn’t help yourself even though that you knew it wasn’t okay.

Your parents were on vacation and had asked Pedro to keep a close eye on you and that if there was something going on, you could go to him. You were currently bored out of your mind and thinking about what to do. You listened to some music in your room, staring at the ceiling. “What would Pedro do right now?” you wondered to yourself when you turned your head to look at the window. You were thinking about it and curiosity got the better of you when you stood up. You looked out of your window and your eyes got bigger at the sight. Pedro sat in his chair, his head slowly tilted backwards while his hand softly stroke his cock.

Your breath hitched but you couldn’t look away. You were so lost in a trance at how absolutely gorgeous this man looked, how the warm light hit his face, his large hands caressing his huge cock and how his lips slightly parted. His eyes were closed and it almost looked angelic. You felt the familiar heat spread down and you slowly placed your hand in your panties, underneath your flower dress. Pedro’s eyes slowly opened, looking at the screen in front of him. You were curious to what he was watching. What porn category he would search for.

You were so caught up at your own feeling and the image in front of you, that it didn’t click in your head when Pedro’s head turned towards your window. You made eye contact with the brown eyed man and that was when it hit you. He could obviously fucking see you, knowing that you were watching him. You quickly moved away from your window, your heartbeat pounding against your chest as panic took slightly over. My god, he caught you. How the fuck are you ever going to face him again. You felt flustered, bothered and panicked. You didn’t know what to do right now than to just stand there, thinking about what to do. You had no idea how long you stood there when you peeked around the corner so you could look out of your window again. You saw that the laptop was still opened, the light illuminating to the chair that Pedro sat in, minutes ago but he wasn’t there anymore.

Panic took over your entire body. You stared in front of you until you heard your doorbell. You freezed on the spot. It felt like you had an entire black out, adrenaline shooting through your body and you moved towards your livingroom without thinking. Your body was acting on itself and you opened the door, seeing Pedro standing in front of you. His cheeks a little pink while he ran his hand through his hair. You both didn’t say anything, feeling extremely awkward. “I wanted to check up on you and see how you were doing.” He spoke up, ignoring the fact that you caught him and he caught you.

You nodded and forced out a smile as you stood to the side, letting him in. He walked past you with a soft smile and sat on one of the chairs. “Eh, do you maybe want something to drink?” you asked him, trying to act like nothing happened. Pedro smiled softly, unable to make eye contact with you. “Could I have a glass of water?” you nodded and your body acted on itself, moving you to the kitchen, Pedro watching you closely.

Your hands were shaking while you gave him a glass of water. You got one beer for yourself, hoping that it would calm your nerves. Pedro watched your shaky hands when you took a sip from the bottle. It was unbearably silent at the moment and it had almost send you in a panic attack until Pedro broke the silence with a question. “So how are you doing?” he asked you and looked into your eyes. “Good, yeah I’m doing okay. I like the peace.” You told him, shifting uncomfortably in your seat since you were still very horny.

Pedro knew about your not so secret crush on him and he would be lying if he said that he didn’t like you that way either. You were so good and so pure, it absolutely drove him insane. He too, lost count of how many times he fantasized about you when he would touch himself, imagining it was you.

The air around you thickened and Pedro nodded when you answered that question and it became silent again. Both of you knew that it had to be addressed if you wanted to get the tension out of the air. “I’m sorry.” Pedro said uncomfortably while he scratched his neck. You looked up and felt panic float through your body besides, you felt nervous as hell around him let alone right now. “I’m sorry that you saw me. I should’ve closed the curtains… I hope we’re still okay?” he asked you softly and at the last part, he looked at you. The heat started to spread across your cheeks while you fumbled with the sticker of the beer bottle.

You nodded, unable to speak at all. His hand covered yours that was playing with the sticker so he could get your entire attention. You looked at his hand, covering yours before looking at Pedro, who was staring at you. Your heart started to beat faster and faster. You carefully turned your hand and started playing with his fingers, images of earlier that night flashed through your mind as it was the same hand that he touched himself with. Pedro looked down at your hand and then back to your eyes. He was surprised to say the least when you tried to make a move.

Pedro knew it was wrong but it felt so incredibly right that he couldn’t bare to stop you even though you were just playing with his fingers. The physical contact you made started to tightened his pants again. He didn’t want to admit it but when he caught you watching, was the only thing to send him over the edge and came hard. And all you had to do for that was just look at him.

Pedro let out a sigh when he thought about that exact moment. “What were you watching?” you couldn’t help but feel bold when curiosity stroked. You had an idea where this boldness came from and that was because you wanted that man and you wanted him now. “What?” you took Pedro complete by surprise. He wasn’t used to you being this bold. He knew you as the shy, innocent girl. Not that he complained but it started to get harder to fight his feelings for you.

“What were you watching when I caught you?” you asked him again. You looked at your hand that played with Pedro’s. Your hand looked so small compared to his. Pedro slowly took his hand away from you. “I eh…. I ehm..” Pedro swallowed thickly, almost unable to breath. You felt a pang in your heart when he took his hand away from you. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise! I’m just…. Curious.” You told him, feeling shy again. Pedro looked into your eyes and he had a strict look as if you crossed the line. “Just curious?” his voice was stern.

You started to panic, feeling you ruined everything with him and let your head down. You were staring at your Dr. Martens boots. “You really want to know?” his voice turned slightly darker as he placed a finger underneath your chin, making you look up. “Do you?” you stayed silent but nodded, your eyes big at the upcoming revelation. Pedro nodded. “I mostly watch neighbor things, daughter of my best friend and stuff...” You eyes bigger at his confession while he took in every feature on your face. Pedro placed his hand carefully on your bare leg, making you jump at the sudden contact. Pedro lifted his hand quickly when you jumped before slowly putting it back on your leg, drawing circles with his thumb.

“Your turn, princess.” He told you, making you look up in confusion. “come on now. If we’re going to be honest, than be honest. I know you watch porn. What do you search sweetheart?” His hand carefully went up your leg underneath your dress. You felt yourself pulsing from the heat. “Ehm… I watch… a lot of daddy stuff….” You confessed, not wanting to tell him more. “Do you now?” you nodded “And maybe some neighbor stuff as well.” you felt your cheeks heat completely up as you nodded, looking how his hand disappeared underneath your short dress.

“I know you have a crush on me.” he told you while looking intently into your eyes. It felt like you couldn’t breath anymore as the air kept getting tighter around the two of you. His fingers squeezed your leg, making you let out a moan. You quickly covered your mouth with your hand. “You like this?” he asked you, his hands getting towards your heat. You quickly nodded “I need to hear your voice Chiquita.” You tried to swallow but your mouth was dry from nerves. “I do daddy.” Pedro smirked, his finger going over your clit. There was already a wet patch on your panties, getting a groan out from Pedro.

“You are dripping through your panties sweetheart.” You moaned when his fingers picked up the pace. You covered his hand that was underneath your dress so his hand would stay there. “Yeah? You like that?” he asked you, making you nod again while you tried to gasp for air. “Why don’t you come over here and sit on my lap sweetheart?” he told you, his hand leaving your panty and placed both of his hands on your waist, making you stand up. The moment you did, he took your body completely in without shame. He pulled you closer and made you sit on his lap sideways. He looked down your body, his hand rubbing your leg and pulled your dress a bit up.

Pedro kissed your shoulder, his beard scraping your skin. You couldn’t wait longer and started to move your hips. “Oh baby, you are a needy little girl aren’t you?” You hummed, your hand over his again and guided him to your heat. Pedro smirked “You like it when I do this?” he asked you, his fingers over your clit again, your whole body reacting to it as if it got a shock. Pedro chuckled at how much your body gave you away. Your whole body tensed, making you grip his wrist harder. His fingers going faster while his other hand grabbed your chin, making you look at him. “Look at me.” he commanded. You couldn’t help but move your hips on his lap, feeling his cock grow harder underneath you.

Pedro looked deep into your eyes and you immediately felt more intimidated. You stared at his lips, desperate to kiss him. you moved forward to kiss him but Pedro pulled back. “No. You wait like a good girl. Only good girls get what they want. Do you understand?” you nodded but Pedro shook his head. “Use your voice, young lady.” You swallowed again, his hand went from your holding your chin towards your neck. You felt a pit in your stomach. “I understand! I understand!” you quickly said, almost beggingly as you grew closer to your orgasm.

“From now on, you address me as daddy or papi. Are we clear on that sweetheart?” Pedro’s voice was cold and unbothered while you squirmed on his lap, begging to come. “Yes! I understand daddy! Please, please can I cum daddy?” You cried out. This was the first time that Pedro didn’t sound stern anymore. He wanted you so bad that started to lose control. His breath shaky while his fingers put pressure on your clit over your panties and picked up the pace. “Go ahead sweet girl. Cum for me” he told you and as on que your whole body started to shake. Pedro let go of your neck and held your body tightly against yours while your limbs were shaking. “That’s it, just like that baby girl.” He cooed in a soft, loving voice, making your orgasm even more explosive.

Your eyes met Pedro’s and his eyes held so much softness and adoration in them that it made you weak to your knees. Pedro came closer and closed the gap between the two of you in a hungry, passionate kiss. You felt his tongue slide in while his hand caressed your cheek. You got out of the kiss, making Pedro look confused at you. You stood up and got completely in his lap so you were chest to chest. His hands found your waist. Pedro looked at your body, his hand caressing your leg, slowly moving up to your upper leg, just rubbing them. He loved how soft and delicate your skin was underneath his hands. His hands underneath your dress, holding you by your waist and pulled you in the kiss again.

Hungrily you discovered each other’s mouth. Pedro started to move your hips and you quickly took over, grinding on his lap. Pedro groaned in the kiss, sending goosebumps over your body. His fingers dug into your skin and his lips moved towards your cheek to your neck. Even more electricity came over you when his lips touched your neck, turning you on to the point of crazy. You grinded more aggressively on his lap and dick for at least some friction. Pedro’s hands went to your ass, squeezing them tightly, making you moan out. Your hands went through his hair while you pulled him closer to you. Your hips moving even more violent than before. “Are you going to come again?” he asked you. “Yes daddy” you cried out and Pedro chuckled because of how desperate you sounded. And not to find it funny how desperate you were for him but because it felt like his heart was going to give out from all the love he held for you.

“That’s it, you can cum whenever you’re ready baby girl.” He quickly placed his fingers over your panties again and rubbed your clit. You cried as your whole body started to shake. “There you go baby, let it go sweetheart. Let it go.” He guided you while your rested your head against his shoulder. His dick was fully hard by now and he could just cum without touching himself at the way you came on his lap.

“Show me your room, mi amor.” You stood up but your legs almost gave out. Pedro held you tightly. You looked at his lap and your orgasm dripped though your panties on his pants, leaving a wet patch and it was the hottest thing ever. You walked towards your room. You laid down on the bed and Pedro hang above you, kissing you even more. You couldn’t get enough of his lips while you held his cheeks with your palm. Pedro grinded against you, both moaning. You got out of the kiss, Pedro awaited what you were going to do. You rested your head to the side and was in thought. Pedro was confused, his eyebrows knotted a bit together as worry washed over him.

“Hey, hey? Are you okay sweetheart?” you nodded but was apprehensive to what you were going to confess. “Pedro…. I.. I’m still a virgin.” Pedro looked shocked at you and created a bit of distance between the two of you. That was the last thing you wanted so you grabbed him by his cardigan. “No. No, I want you to have it.” Pedro’s eyes softened. “Sweetheart… You shouldn’t give it to me.” You violently shook your head, completely disagreeing with him now. “No, I’ve always wanted you to have it. I don’t want to give it to anyone else. I really don’t.” Pedro looked at you contemplating. “Are you sure?” he asked you and softly cupped your cheek, rubbing his thumb softly over your skin.

You nodded and Pedro slowly started nodding as well, giving in to your wishes. “Besides, you told me good girls get what they want. I’m a good girl daddy. I promise.” Pedro chuckled a little, giving completely in. “You’re right. You are a good girl.” Pedro kissed you softly. “So… you’ve never done anything with anyone?” he asked you and you shook your head. “You’ve never…. Sucked somebody off?” you shook your head again. “So no one has ever shown you how it is to be eaten out?” he asked you, sympathy glazed his voice while his fingers touched your pussy again. You gasped slightly and shook your head.

“Would you like to know how it feels?” he asked you with a loving smile on his face. You nodded and Pedro closed the gap again, kissing you. This time it was soft and passionately. He went over your neck with his lips towards your collarbone. His hands over your leg again before he sat up and got into position, his hands over your dress, moving it up. His hands going over your thigh, giving another shockwave over your body. Pedro smiled at the way your body reacted to his touch. His hands reached your panties and pulled them slightly down. You pushed your hips up so he could take your panties off.

Pedro slowly spread your legs and gave you another glance, wanting your permission again. Your breathing was heavy as you quickly nodded. Pedro started to kiss the insides of your thigh, slowly making his way up while remaining eye contact with you. His beard scratched your skin in the best possible way. Pedro took a long lick over your folds and you let your head fall back on the pillow. His eyes never leaving yours, taking in every feature. His arms wrapped around your legs, keeping them spread while he started to eat you out. You gasped at the sudden overwhelming pleasure. Your hand automatically grabbed his hair, tucking it a bit, earning a growl from Pedro, who started working on your clit now.

You were absolutely dripping right now. The sounds your pussy and Pedro made should be illegal but you were glad it wasn’t. Pedro teased your entrance with his finger while sucking on your clit. Pedro made eye contact with you again and slid his finger inside your pussy. You gasped and clenched on his finger, earning a couple of other growls. God you felt so good on his finger that he was afraid that he wasn’t going to last long when he would be inside of you. Pedro carefully started pumping his finger inside of you and the familiar feeling came back but as soon as Pedro curled his finger inside of you, another pleasurable feeling washed over you that you didn’t recognized.

You grabbed Pedro’s wrist again and tried to hold back whatever that feeling was. “Feels good doesn’t it princesa? Don’t hold it back sweetheart. I’m right here with you. Nothing bad ‘s going to happen. Let it go.” He comforted you through it. Pedro started to messily eat you out, sending another shockwave. “Daddy..” you moaned out, your eyebrows knitted together and eyes tightly shut in a pained expression even though it was everything but pain. Even if you wanted to hold back that feeling, you just couldn’t hold it back anymore and started to squirt while Pedro continued to eat you out. Your whole body tense as Pedro still held tightly to your legs to keep them spread. You gasped for air and saw that Pedro cleaned his face from all the juices. He grinned at you and took his cardigan and shirt off, hanging above you again. His hands softly going over your cheek. “That felt good didn’t it?” you nodded, still questioning what just happened. And as if Pedro could read your mind, he answered the question that lingered in your mind “You just squirted baby girl.” He smiled and kissed you lovingly.

“Can I ehh…” You rubbed his cock over his pants. Pedro looked down and back to you. “You can do whatever you want to baby.” this man got you all flustered with his words. Pedro sat up and so did you. You carefully undid his pants, looking at Pedro who was awaiting your next move. You reached into his pants and took his cock out. It was so big compared to your hand already and you swallowed thickly. Pedro let out a moan when you stroked his cock slightly. You placed your hands on his chest and laid him down on his back. You started to lick his shaft and Pedro let out a shaky breath. You’ve never done this before but you’ve seen some things so you tried that just out.

You tried to take him all in but that was a failed mission before you even started. You gagged on his cock while your hand jerked off what you couldn’t put in your mouth. You slobbered over his dick and Pedro shamelessly moaned out, turning you on even more. “God baby.” he moaned out. “This really the first time you’d done this?” he was surprised at your amazing skills as your hand even caressed his balls. You got his dick out of your mouth with a perfect plop and nodded before continuing. “My god you’re really good at this. Fuck baby.” Pedro held your hair back and couldn’t help but thrust into your mouth, making you gag but took in everything he gave you.

“I can’t wait anymore. If you keep doing this, I’m going to cum in no time.” He told you when he took you off his cock. He sat up and took your dress off from your body. his hands discovering your skin before he took your bra off as well. “God, you’re gorgeous” he admired your body before his lips found your neck again, kissing and sucking on it. You moaned out again and his finger played with your clit again. He went from your neck to your breast, squeezing them and sucking on your nipple. Excitement grew in your stomach again, spreading another heatwave towards your pussy while he sucked on your nipple. He knew how much you liked it when he did this by the way you moaned above him.

Pedro laid you down on your back again and spread your legs before laying between them. “You’re really sure of this?” he asked you again, making you nod and pulled him down for a kiss again. You pushed your hips up, grinding your wet pussy over his dick. Pedro felt himself grow weak already at the way you felt over his cock. Pedro groaned and took his cock in his hand and guided it to your entrance, looking at you again to see if you were in any pain. He carefully pushed the tip in and you moaned out loudly when Pedro groaned as well. You felt pain shooting through you.

Pedro waited until you were able to take more. A tear escaped from the corner of your eye, which Pedro obviously noticed. “Hey sshhh it’s okay. If you want me to stop, I’ll stop okay?” You nodded “Do you want me to stop?” this time you shook your head and Pedro softly left kisses over your face. He let out a shaky breath, he had to gather all of his energy to not to pound you out completely right now.

“It’s okay…” you told him and Pedro pushed more in, he wasn’t even halfway in and you stopped him again. He waited until you were ready again and sucked your nipple, making you clench on his cock. He pulled his hips back before he slowly entered you again. Not pushing anymore in but for friction. Your hands were on his back, your nails digging into his skin. “More please” you murmured out but loud enough for Pedro to hear you. He pushed his cock in and collapsed on you for a moment. “You feel so good on my cock. Like you were made just for me princesa.” You moaned out, wanting more friction so you moved your hips eagerly and Pedro looked down how you grinded your pussy on his dick.

“Please fuck me daddy.” He could just cum right then and there but he needed to last longer for you while you kept grinding. Pedro got out of you, making you feel confused. Pedro laid down on his back and hinted for you to come over to him. “Why don’t you ride daddy, baby. I know how you use those hips.” He told you and helped you up on his cock. You slowly slid down on his cock but you couldn’t take all of him in yet. You slowly moved up and down, Pedro’s hands on your hips, guiding you. “There you go baby. You’re doing so good for daddy.” Pedro murmured out while he let his head fall down.

You wanted to take him all in just for him. Be the good girl that he want. When you slid his dick completely in, he looked at you in surprise but the feeling caught up too fast with him and he moaned out. Your pussy was gripping his cock for dear life “oh you’re such a good girl.” He cried out and you slowly grinded on his cock. His fingers dug into your skin and you were sure it was going to leave a mark later.

After a couple of minutes of you grinding on his cock, he couldn’t take it anymore. “My god, I’ve got to fuck you baby. I’m so close.” He told you and laid you down on your back. He pushed your legs a bit up and entered you again, both moaning out at the feeling. He started to fuck you and you grabbed his hand, putting it around your throat so he could choke you. He carefully squeezed your throat while he started fucking you harder, his thumb rubbing on your clit. You were shaking again, you were so overstimulated that you really didn’t know if you had another orgasm in you.

His cock hit your g-spot perfectly and your pussy was making a lot of wet noises again. “Oh I make you feel good too don’t I, baby girl?” you nodded while he fastened his pace on your clit. “That’s it. Be a good girl and cum for daddy. Let go, remember?” he asked you again but you were unable to respond as the euphory took over. You clenched his cock so hard that he fell through his knees. “I’m going to cum too.” He announced, wanting to get out of you but you pulled him back quickly. “No, please cum in me. It’s okay. Please I need it daddy, I need your cum.” Pedro couldn’t hold back anymore and you felt something warm fill you up while Pedro let out some grumbles and groans. You could feel him twitch inside of you.

Pedro tried to regain his breathing back and carefully got out of you, making you both moan out. He laid down on his side, facing you. “Are you okay sweetheart?” he asked you, cupping your cheek. You smiled and kissed him. “Yeah very much so.” Pedro smiled lovingly as well. He looked at you, completely mesmerized. He carefully went with his hand over your hair. You turned over as well and placed your arm around him, wanting him closer. “Can you stay with me tonight?” you asked him hopeful. Pedro smiled and kissed your nose. “Of course I will.” You smiled and shyly hid your face against his chest.

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal daddy #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x female original character #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal oneshot

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holylulusworld · 2 months

Text

Indecent Proposal (12)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: sexy mobsters, fluff, established Stucky, angst, mentions of smut

Indecent Proposal (11)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

Back from your little getaway with Steve and Bucky, you had to face reality.

It was just your luck that the cops stumbled over your ex’s body.

A few hours later they knocked at your door, asking you to come to the precinct and give them a statement.

That’s how you ended up in an interrogation room with some cop on a mission. Of course, he knows about Scott’s not-so-legal business.

“Miss Y/L/N, when have you last seen your boyfriend Scott Lang.”

“Mr. Lang isn’t my boyfriend any longer,” you act like you don’t know about his death. “We parted ways a few weeks ago. After a party.”

“Why?” The detective asks. He’s thumbing through a folder in his hands, looking at you now and then.

“Why what?”

“Why are you not together any longer?” He cocks his head to watch you cross your arms over your chest.

You sigh deeply. It’s not the detective’s business why you broke up with Scott. You try your best to keep a straight face and get out of here as fast as possible.

“Scott is like a big child, you know.” Holding the detective’s gaze, you try not to make a mistake and end up in jail, or get Steve and Bucky arrested. “I dreamed of marriage, children, and settling down.” You shrug. “He has his head in the clouds. We parted ways because we wanted different things. He’s a nice guy, but not the one for me.”

“He was a nice guy,” the detective finally says. You already know Scott is dead, but act like you heard about it for the first time.

“What?”

“He’s dead. Your boyfriend got murdered and we try to find out what happened in his life over the last weeks.” He closes the folder and looks you straight in the eyes.

“He got killed,” you fake a sob. “No…no. This is impossible. Scott is a good guy. Why would anyone hurt him? I don’t understand.” You think about something sad to shed a few tears. “You must be mistaken. Scott can’t be dead.”

“Miss Y/L/N, where have you been over the last two weeks?” The detective asks. He looks at you, searching for any trace of lies when you answer his question.

“I was on vacation with two friends. They asked if I wanted to join them on their trip,” you sniffle and wipe your eyes. “After the breakup, I needed some time to think about a few things.”

“Steve Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes are friends of yours?” He leans back in his chair. The detective didn’t expect you to be honest. “Since when?”

“We met at a party and kinda hit it off. You know, sometimes you just click with a person and know, you are going to become friends,” you casually say.

“I assume it was the party you mentioned before.”

“Yes,” you know he knows everything about the party and your connection to Steve and Bucky. There is no point in lying to him. “Scott introduced me to the couple, and we talked for hours.”

“You only talked?” He presses on, eyes dropping to the folder on the table. You know he’s got no proof that you and your men are more than friends.

“I don’t understand your question,” batting your eyelashes you try to pretend you are the meek and shy woman your colleagues described. You know the detective sniffed around your neighborhood and workplace.

“I want to know if you fucked them before or after you killed Scott Lang,” he jumps up from his chair, knocking it over. The detective slams his hands onto the table, making you flinch.

“What? Are you out of your mind?” You gasp loudly and place one hand on your heart. “Detective, Scott, and I broke up. But I would never harm him. Neither would Mr. Rogers, or Mr. Barnes harm him. Why would we do such a thing?”

“Brock,” another detective enters the interrogation room. She places her hand on her partner’s shoulder and whispers something you cannot hear in his ear.

“You sure?” He cocks a brow. “I thought…we got them this time.”

“The results do not lie, Brock. We arrested the killer,” she says while glancing at you. The redhead dips her head to look you up and down. “Detective Romanoff,” she holds out her hand. “We are done here, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Wait…I’m not done. I still got questions,” Brock grunts as his partner guides you toward the door. “Natasha, you can’t be serious. We both know it was them killing Lang.”

“We know shit,” Natasha replies. “Just stop, Brock. We will get them another time.”

You silently walk next to Natasha, wondering what just happened. She guides you out of the building, and toward a black SUV waiting for you.

“Tell Bucky we are even now,” she whispers so no one can hear. “I cannot protect them forever. They need to be more careful and stop disposing of bodies in my town.”

You gape at her. Speechless and a little shell-shocked. “Doll, get in,” Bucky opens the door to the limousine. “Come on. We don’t want to draw more attention toward you.”

“Okay,” you get inside the car, swallowing thickly. “Bucky, what’s going on?”

“Well, shit doll,” Steve shrugs as the driver starts the engine. “Bucky disposed of your ex at the wrong place, and someone found his body.”

“I already got that but…” you hide your face in the palms of your hands. “That woman said you are even now.”

“Nah, she still owes us,” Bucky waves your concern off. “That asshole Brock tries to arrest us for years.” The brunette grins. “He’s like a dog chasing his tail.”

“That’s not funny!” You sniffle. “He accused me of murdering Scott. Or rather that we conspired to kill my ex. I was so scared of saying something wrong.”

“Doll, you did so well for us. Come here,” Steve pats his thigh, and you immediately crawl into his lap to hide your face in his shoulder. “We are sorry for not being there sooner. It was too risky. We didn’t want Brock to dig deeper.”

“What will we do now?” You sniffle. “What if he finds proof that Bucky killed Scott?”

“They won’t find shit,” Bucky grunts. “We made sure of it. One of our competitors will take the blame.” The brunette runs his hand over your hair. “Please don’t worry. That bastard killed more than one innocent bystander.”

“Are you sure?” You fist Steve’s jacket. “I don’t want to lose one of you. Please tell me everything is going to be alright.”

“Y/N, I swear no one is going to part us,” Bucky whispers while you cling to his husband. “I fixed the mess I made. I always do.”

"We are sorry about Brock, and the interrogation. Bucky and I never wanted you to know about this side of our business."

"They were at my workplace, Steve. Everyone believes I'm a criminal, a murderer even."

"We will fix this too," Steve softly says. "For now, let's drive home and forget about this shitty day."

"Tomorrow is a better day," Bucky whispers. "Promised."

Part 12.2

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #mafia au #mobster!steve rogers #mobster!bucky barnes #stucky #stucky x female reader #stucky x reader #polyamory

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ysrjune · 20 days

Text

Tell Me What You Want

paring - scott monroe, sam monroe 🍒

part 4! of tell me what you want

The next couple of weeks with Scott as your new boyfriend was great. He took you out on dates, went over to your house for a change, and sometimes he'd just walk around the neighborhood with you like always. Not a lot about him changed after you started dating him. He was still playful and little jokingly mean. You liked that. You liked that he didn't stop being playfully.

Who would have guessed you were the one who was gonna be more clingy, too. Always holding his hand everywhere you went, stealing kisses and just being super touchy in general. He never minded it, though. This was all he ever wanted.

On Wednesday night, he had invited you to go to the beach with Sam, his parents, and a few of his other family members on Friday. Of course you said yes! More time to spend with your boyfriend. So when the day rolled around, you packed all the things you needed. Sun—screen, a towel, a hairbrush, and other things you thought were necessary. All of these things were in a tote bag that your dad had bought you the last time you went to the beach.

Soon enough, you walked next door, knocking on the door. Scott's dad opened the door, greeting you with a hug, then sending you upstairs to his room. As soon as you entered, his eyes shifted from his phone to you. “Hi, angel,” He smiled and opened his arms for you to go give him a hug. You did what he wanted, smothering him in kisses as you hugged.

“Where's your bathing suit?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. “Underneath my clothes, silly. I wasn't gonna walk over here with just a bathing suit on.” “Makes sense.” He chuckled and kissed your shoulder, then got up to throw a couple of things into his own bag. “You got everything you need?” Scott asked, throwing a pair of boxers into his bag. “Mhm. I doubled checked just to be safe.”

“Finally using your common sense?” He picked at you, grinning to himself as he rummaged through a couple drawers to see if there's anything else he should bring along. “Yeah, sure.” You rolled your eyes and picked up his phone, unlocking it. You scrolled through his instagram feed, chrcking his story, and even looking at who he was texting. You've done it before and he doesn't care. He has nothing to hide.

Then, a text from Sam popped up. Your heart felt like it stopped for a second. The memories of what you did with him flooded your memory, and it made you feel all that guilt again. “Scott, your brother texted you..”

“What does he want?” He asked, putting on his shoes. “I don't know, I didn't read what he said.” You turned off the phone, looking at Scott. “Read what he said to me, yeah?” That made you even more nervous than you already were. “Okay,” you turned the phone back on and clicked Sam's message. For some reason, you thought it would be about you. The worst possible texts came to your mind. ‘is your dumb girlfriend here already?’, ‘why did you invite y/n? She's so fucking annoying’, ‘you already being her over enough, why does she have to tag along on a family thing.’

You were being so dramatic. All he said was “Share your sunscreen with me, I think I lost mine from last time” You read it to Scott. Your boyfriend finished tying his shoes and looked over at you. “Say no and then okay.” That was a dumb request, but that's the way Scott usually texts back when someone asks for a favor. He did it to you for years.. and still does.

Eventually, everyone got in the car. You were nervous about sitting in the middle because if you did, you'd sit next to both boys. So you asked Scott if you could sit in the end. He didn't think anything of it, so he said yes. The whole car ride, you were kinda quiet. You only talked when you were talked to. Sam spoke to Scott a little, too. But it was so damn weird. How could he act so normal? Was he not bothered about you being there after what happened? He even said hi to you when he got into the car. Maybe you were just over thinking it.

You two shared a couple of glances, but he didn't smile or anything. He didn't even give you a nasty look either. It was just a glance. It took almost an hour to get to the beach. The boys helped their dad and uncle unload the trunk once they got there, too.

The cousins that came were one boy and one girl. Luckily for you, you had met them at the birthday party. Their names were Jerry and Cassy. Jerry helped with the other guys after saying hi to you, leaving you with Cassy and the two moms. You chatted it up with Cassy while walking to the sand to find a spot to stay for the day. “Y/n, honey, how long until your next birthday?” Mrs. Monroe asked. “In a couple of months. I'll be turning 18.”

She nodded and told her sister the information. Maybe she was telling her about how you and Scott had a 2 year age gap. Enough of those boys, though! After picking a spot to put all your stuff down, you took your clothes off, putting them in your bag and going into the water with Cassy. Both of you splashed around and had a bunch of fun for almost an hour until Sam snuck behind Cassy and pushed her underwater.

After coming back up, she started messing with Sam. It was nice to see Sam being playful. You had never seen him like this. Along came Jerry and Scott. Scott pushed you underwater like Sam did to Cassy. For some reason, everyone decided to gang up on Scott.. then Sam. Dragging them underwater, splashing, and annoying them in general.

You were having so much fun. You forgot about the awkwardness with Sam. You even talked to him and went on his shoulders while Cassy was on Scotts. What you two girls didn't know was that the twins were gonna drop you on purpose. When they did, they spun around as fast as they could in the water, and then! dropped you. The adults went in for a while, too.

All of you went for a walk on the shallow part of the ocean, leaving the adults. Scott had his arm around you, and yours was around his waist. The sun was close to setting. The only request the adults made was that you guys would return to watch the sun go down all the way. So when the sky started turning pink and orange, everyone returned.

Sam cuddled up to his mom. Another new thing you learned about him.. he was a mama's boy. Despite being 19, he still liked cuddling up to his mom while she played with his hair. Scott had his back to you, holding onto your thighs while your arms wrapped around his waist.

It was a nice place to be in right now. Everyone laughing and speaking to each other. It gave a good vibe. Once the sun went all the way down, the guys started returning things to the cars. After changing back into your clothes and brushing your hair, you said bye to Cassy and her family and returned to your spot in the car.

“So, your aunt Isabella and uncle Leonard asked us to go to dinner with them tonight.” Scott’s dad started. “And we decided to go. We're gonna shower, get ready, and leave. Don't throw any parties while we're gone.” Their mom says with a smile on her face. “Y/n, feel free to stay over as long as you want.”

“Thank you,” you said politely, then other conversations took over the car. Scott looked down at you, rubbing his thigh across your thigh. “Did you have fun?” You look at him with a small smile and nod. “Mhm, lots. Hope we can hang out with Jerry and Cassy again. They're super funny.” Scott kissed your forehead, then adjusted himself to be able to reach your shoulder so he could lay on it.

The adults decided to leave everything in the car and take it out tomorrow since they wanted to be out of the house quickly. Sam was the first to leave the car since he wanted to shower and leave the house to go out with his friends. You went to your house to shower, too.

By the time you were done, Scott's parents and brother were gone. Movies were being binged, snacks were eaten, jokes were shared—it was a sweet moment. It had been a few weeks since you had sex with Scott, and you didn't wanna wait again. Your hand traveled to his crotch, rubbing up and down.

“What are you doin’..” he mumbled, looking at your hand. “Oh, nothing..” , “doesnt feel like nothing.” He smirked, pulling his sweats down to reveal he had no boxers on. His semi-hard cock against your hand. You wrapped your hand around his dick, stroking slowly. “Fuck.” He groaned, hands gripping his sheets. “Are we really doing this? Now?” He asked with his eyes closed, hips now starting to slowly roll into your hand. “What's wrong with right now?” You ask him, speeding up a little.

“Nothing.” He whimpered, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Don't stop, angel. Your hand feels so good.” He pants, sometimes twitching at times. Your finger ran from tip to base, making him moan softly. “please, please, please suck my dick, babe. please.” He begged, now looking at you with his pretty, blue eyes. How could you say no to him? Hes asking so nicely.

You go down onto your knees and immediately take his full length, making him shudder. “Careful, baby. Don't want you to hurt yourself.” How sweet. Things sped up, making him moan louder than he ever has. Now that no one was home, he could be as loud as he wanted. Hand pulling on your hair and sometimes gagging you on him.

“Yeah, like that, bitch.” Woah? He's never said anything like that before.. it was hot, though. “Fuck—get up here and sit on my face. now.” Yeah, you're wet. You pulled off of him, and he lay back. You took your pants and underwear off and sat in the middle of his chest, un-sure about this. He could feel you pooling on his chest, and it only made him hornier. “Did you fucking hear me? Hurry up.” He smacked your thigh, making you wince. You did what he asked.

His tongue hit all the right places. It felt so good. Especially when his fingers would nosingly travel to your clit, slowly fingering it. You involuntary started to ride his face, making him moan into your pussy. This continued for a little while until he had you in missionary. He slowly thrusted into you, telling you how much he loves you and how pretty you look underneath him.

Out of nowhere, he started being rough. Degrading you, mixing a little praise into it. He even smacked you when you wouldn't respond. “Answer me, or I'll stop.” Yeah, there was no way you were gonna let him stop. When you were close to cumming, he stopped. “You're not gonna get off that easyz sweetie. Gotta work for it. Set the pace yourself and fuck me how you want.”

You whined but did what he said. What you both didn't notice was that Sam came home early. He was in his room, listening to everything going on. He was so disturbed but knew if he opened his door, it would make a noise, and you'd know he was back. He was actually really mad. How could you fuck Scott so soon after fucking him? He groaned quietly and put his headphones on.

You two went on for 30 more minutes until finishing together. Scott cleaned you up and took good care of you. But the guilt came back. The way Scott was degrading reminded you of Sam. The whole next 2 hours you spent watching movies with him, you couldn't take it anymore.

“Scott.. I need to tell you something.” He looked at you, raising his eyebrows to let you know he was listening. “This isn't easy for me to say.. uh, look.” You sighed and adjusted yourself to face him properly. He was so damn confused but didnt say a word.

“So, I had a few reasons to not date you before.. but there was one big reason. It was cause..” You paused, heart beating fast. “What?” He furrowed his eyebrows. You took a deep breath and looked at him. “Its because I liked your brother, too.” This made Scott's whole face relax. But not in a good way. It was in one of those ways that someone was putting stuff together.

Sam was in his room, no longer listening to music. Obviously, he was listening in, but once he heard his name, he knew what you were doing. “stupid fucking—” he listened in, scared.

“And the day you got high with him and Chris.. yknow, when he stayed..” That was all Scott needed to know exactly what happened. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He furrowed his eyebrows again and stood from his bed. “You fucked my brother the day after you made out with me?! Y/n, you left hickeys all over my fucking neck and then you fucked my brother?!” He yelled. Sam hissed to himself. When Scott gets mad.. he really gets mad. He starts yelling and won't stop.

“Scott, I didn’t mean—”, “No! You did mean it. You could have said no! I know my brother—we're both guys. I've talked to him about sex before, y/n. I know he'd never take advantage of someone like that. So, I know damn well if you said no, he wouldn't have fucked you.” He kept yelling.

“And you decide to tell me this just now?! After we had sex for the second time? Whats your problem!” Sam decided he needed to go in there before Scott completely lost it. When you guys heard his door open, Scott immediately opened his door. “And you! How could you do this to me? You knew I liked her!” He pushed Sam to the wall. “Scott, calm down—I can explain.”

“Nah, dont worry. Your precious princess told me everything already. Tell me, Sam. You couldn't just leave and go have sex with one of those girls you always talk to instead?” Scott yelled, eyes starting to tear up. “You selfish fuck.” He shook his head and started walking down the stairs. “Scott, where the hell are you going?!” Sam followed him, leaving you in the room.

“Dont worry about it, just leave me alone.” He got to the door, but Sam was quick to slap his hand off of the handle. “Scott, come on! Lets talk about this!”

“What are we supposed to talk about?! How you betrayed me? How she betrayed me?!” He looked Sam up and down. “You're my brother, Samuel. You're supposed to have my back.” “Scott, come on. I have your back—I just. I was high! She didn't mean anything to me! She never really has! Barley even fuckin’ know her! Did I like her a little? Yeah, but I never wanted to act on anything because you liked her first! In love with her, even. Come on, man! ” He yelled back. You heard it. And you knew it was true.

“Being high isnt an excuse, Sam. Fuck. You.” He pointed to Sam's chest and left. You cried while all of this was happening. Seriously, what was wrong with you? This is all your fault. It was obvious that neither of them wanted you anymore. That's your own fault.

Sam came into the room, looking mad. “I told you not to say anything.” His voice was serious. “Y/n, do you think this is a game? What did you think was gonna happen? That he was gonna brush it off and forgive you?”

“I don't know, Sam! I just couldn't keep it to myself anymore! I felt bad!”, “Yeah?! Yeah, you feel bad?! Imagine how I feel! I betrayed my brother all because I couldn't keep my hands to myself.” He yelled, his eyes tearing up. He took a deep breath and crossed his arms. “Y/n, this isn't your fault. It's mine.” He mumbled. “I should have just left.” He was gonna say more, but Chris came rushing into the house.

“I heard yelling. What's going on?!” He looked at you, then Sam. “Why are you yelling at my sister, huh?” He pressed Sam, looking him in the eyes. “Chris, stop—Sam didnt do anything.” You quickly went to your brother, pushing him away. He looked down at you. “Wheres scott?” He questioned, looking around.

“I'll tell you later..” You grab him by the arm and go home.

Arriving at your house, Chris left you alone. You cried into your pillow. You had no idea where Scott went. He probably hates you now—and so does Sam.

This was all your fault.

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20nugs · 10 months

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Oblivious (Chris Sturniolo)

Spin off of: Tone Deaf by @d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0

a/n: yes, I got permission for this🤓

summary: request

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I sit on the triplet's couch, watching TV. I check the time. 10:00 PM, the clock reads. A whole hour after Chris usually gets home from a meeting. I sigh and tap my foot, hoping he's alright. He hasn't answered my texts, but I've heard from Nick that this meeting is particularly long and heavy.

My eyes light up as I hear the door being unlocked and shoved open. Chris enters first, his hair unruly as ever and head tilted down. A sharp scowl overtakes his usually laid-back features.

"Hey baby, how was it?" I ask, standing up and smiling. My brow furrows and a frown tugs at my lips as instead of pulling me into a hug like he always does, Chris walks swiftly past me without even sparing me a glance. Concerned, I try to follow him, only to be tugged back by a hand on my wrist. I turn to see Nick, holding me back.

"Give him some space," he says quietly. "He's stressed out, we all are." He releases my wrist with a sigh.

"Oh," I mumble, plopping back down on their couch. Nick follows my action and rubs his face with his hands. He lets his hands fall and turns to me with a tired smile.

"What do you want to watch?"

---

It's been around two hours since Chris ignored me at the door, and I've been watching TV with Nick the whole time, Matt opting to go to his room like Chris did. Now, Nick is asleep on the couch, his feet in my lap. I chew on my bottom lip as I check the time. 12:02 AM. I sigh and gently push Nick's feet off of me. I quietly creep my way up the stairs and stand in front of Chris's door. I see a dim light coming from the crack beneath it. I take a deep breath and slowly push open his door.

Chris sits at his desk, his head in one of his hands, a look of deep concentrated on his features as he stares at his computer, clicking away with his free hand. The computer is the only thing lighting up his room, straining on my eyes. I gently shut the door behind me.

"Hi Chris," I say softly, taking a few steps towards him. I stand there, playing with my fingers as I wait for his response.

"Hi," he says, his voice monotone and blunt. I chew on my lip, worried. He never acts like this, not even when he's angry.

"How... how was the meeting?" I ask quietly. I inch closer to him reaching out a hand to rest on his back. He doesn't look at me, his stare still focused on his computer. It looks like he's working on his videos and deals.

"Fine," he answers. His voice is monotone still, with an edge to it. I can tell that if I say anything else it'll annoy him. But I continue anyways.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I ask, my eyebrows pinched together.

"Oh my God, are you fucking oblivious?" He asks angrily, standing from his desk chair. "Obviously I don't want to talk right now, just leave me the fuck alone!"

Hurt contorts my features as I stare back at him. I watch his face drop from the angry expression he had before to a look of realization and panic.

"Wait baby, I didn't mean that-" he starts reaching out to grab my hand, but I ignore him as he ignored me before and push past him, tears brimming at my eyes as I slam his door behind me and jog down the stairs. I can hear a distant 'fuck' from his room, and his door opening. I rush past Nick in the living room and open their front door. Nick is sat up, his sleepiness still evident on his face.

"What hap-" I hear Nick begin speaking but before he can answer I slam their front door behind me and get in my car, backing out of their driveway and flooring the gas to get back to my own house.

Speeding through the neighborhood, I pull over for a moment to wipe the tears from my eyes that are blurring my eyesight. I softly drop my head onto my steering wheel as I cry. Chris never snaps at me, never. I finally sit up and wipe the tears from my eyes and resume driving. I stop for gas on the way home, but as soon as I pull up to my driveway, I know I'm not alone.

I squint at my house. I didn't leave any lights on, so why is my living room window lit up?

My heart pounds as I clutch at the pepper spray in my purse, gently closing my car door. I make my way up to my front door and hold out my pepper spray as I quietly open my door. I let out a silent breath of relief as I see that it's only Chris inside, sitting at my dinner table, seemingly distressed. My relief is short-lived as I remember the events of only around an hour ago. Just as I'm about to leave, Chris notices me. "Wait," he calls out, his voice hoarse. "Please, don't go." There's a quiver in his voice that causes me to hesitate long enough for him to grab my wrist, preventing me from leaving. "Please," he whispers. "I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have snapped at you. It was wrong, and I feel awful."

I finally meet his eyes for the first time today, noticing how bloodshot they are and the dark circles beneath them. A flood of concern and empathy for him fills my body, but there's still hurt and anger. "You yelled and cussed at me," I mumble, looking away from him. In the corner of my eye I see his shoulders droop and his head lower. I take a deep breath. "But you were also stressed," I continue, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek delicately, "and I forgive you." He smiles softly and leans into my touch, pressing a kiss to my palm. He pulls me in for a passionate kiss, conveying his emotions through it. He breaks it to squish me against him in a warm embrace, burying his face into my hair.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" He asks quietly.

"Of course you can," I whisper, leading him into my bedroom and towards my bed. We both flop down and I cuddle up against him, feeling his smile against my forehead.

"I love you," he mumbles sleepily, tightening his arms around me. I smile and press a kiss to his cheek.

"I love you too," I whisper as we slowly drift off to sleep.

#chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #angst with a happy ending #light angst #matt sturniolo

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chronicbeans · 1 year

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Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 2)

My brain won't shut up about this, I like it, and others seem to like it as well. I'm so happy people seem to like my stuff!

TW: Obsessive Behaviors, Stalking, Idol Worship, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery

🎥Today was the day! Apparently, Welcome Home has become beloved enough that someone has decided to interview some of the producers, directors, and cast. Cast including the puppeteers, which means you.

🎥 To be honest, you never really liked being on camera. That isn't to say you didn't like being a puppeteer! No, no, no! You LOVE your job. You love Wally, Home, every character in the neighborhood. You would just rather be behind the scenes. So, this interview is a little daunting.

🎥 When everything is all prepared, you look around the room. Every other puppeteer is sitting with their puppets, just like you are with Wally. Currently, you are all just waiting for the interviewer to finish up with the producers and camera crew. There's been punch laid out and everything for them. It seems like the boss really wanted to make a good first impression with whoever has come in.

🎥 Home is right next to you, with your chair positioned right beside it. It's pretty big, simply because there has to be a couple different versions of it. Ones that fit hand puppets perfectly through the front door and ones that fit the walk around puppets. The larger of the two versions of Home is next to you, with the smaller Home on a table near the title card set.

🎥 Everyone is chatting about their memories making the show, from funny trips that Eddie's puppeteer has made to the improve comedy that Barnaby's puppeteer has come up with for his skits. Everyone is having a jolly good time, except for you. You have this odd feeling like something is going on. Like something is wrong.

🎥 You look down to the little puppet of Wally, which you have nearly sat upon your lap. Ever since the odd incident with storing him away, you have been a bit more protective of him. You don't want him to be messed up. Improperly storing him could result in him being misshapen, so finding out that someone messed with him was alarming.

🎥 Worse yet, though, is that ever since that little incident... you have been feeling like someone is watching you during work. Then there's the colorful letters and drawings you have been getting. Every single one of them has been found on your desk in the storage area for props related to Wally. The language used in the letters are childish and cutesy, such as saying "If you were an apple, you would be the most sparkly and red one, because you are the most!" Every drawing is drawn entirely in crayon, with paint splatters here and there...

🎥 The interviewer comes in, saving you from your own anxious thoughts, as he waves to everyone. He introduces himself, fixing his black suit as he speaks in a formal manner. "Good evening, everyone. I apologize for the delay. Your boss was so excited to tell us about the plans and passion behind this show, I couldn't help but ask him many questions. Now, lets begin."

🎥 It takes a while, but soon, the interviewer gets to you. He asks you simple questions, such as what inspired you to become a puppeteer and what drew you into working on Welcome Home. You give the best answers you could provide, before he asks one that really intrigues you.

🎥"I have heard from some of the production and directing crew that you care a lot about Wally as a character, as well as puppet care. What exactly is it about Wally that you like? What made you want to play him?"

🎥 You couldn't help but grin, explaining everything you loved about Wally as a character. You talk about how he interacts with the audience, small quirks he has and how they are displayed on the show, and even pick him up to go over his character design.

🎥 One sentence you say suddenly makes your brain click in an odd way. The second you let the words "Wally lives to draw art for the viewer of the viewer, due to having a deep appreciation for their kindness" leave your lips, you can't help but remember all of the weird drawings of you you have been finding on your desk recently. You keep talking, though, in the hopes that the memory will just go away for now.

🎥 The drawings can wait. The letters can wait. All that you really want to talk and think about right now is how much this show means to you, as well as how proud of your coworkers you are for helping everyone make Welcome Home as popular as is it. Maybe this interview isn't going as bad as you thought it would?

🎥 You are so invested in talking and answering questions, in fact, that you neglect to notice how Wally seems to subtly curl into your touch. Then again, no one else seems to, either.

#welcome home #wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home arg #welcome home x reader

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loveesiren · 6 months

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𝖲𝗇𝗈𝗐𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 - 𝖢.𝖲.

DISCLAIMER: This is my first Sturniolo fic and I have taken a longggg break from writing so I am very rusty. Sorry in advance that this most likely sucks. I'm also not great with fluff but I thought this was cute so I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think <3

Synopsis: In which Y/n finds the one person who brings joy to her life.

Warnings: Language, broken family (deceased father, alcoholic mother, troubled youth), fluff, cigarettes, very brief mention of drugs

Word Count: 2.4k+

“I WISH I WASN’T EITHER!” You screamed at your mother before slamming the door and walking out into the cold winter night. You grabbed a cigarette from your coat pocket and placed it between your teeth as you searched for your lighter. You brought it to the tip of your cigarette, flicking it a few times until it finally lit.

I wish you weren’t my daughter. The words echoed in your head as you made your way down the dimly lit street. Light snow fell from the sky and your neighborhood was silent, the fluffy white powder absorbing all sound. The space around you was liminal. It was nights like these that were perfect for clearing your head.

Chris’s POV

I heard Y/n yelling and I immediately turned my attention to the window. I slipped my headphones off, completely ignoring Matt and Nick and abandoning the game. I watched as Y/n clicked her lighter to light up her cigarette before walking off down the street. She looked sad. That wasn’t unusual. Especially this time of year.

I’d grown up next to Y/n my whole life. I’d dare to even say she is my friend. Although maybe she doesn’t feel the same about me? She was confusing at times. She was often quiet and kept to herself at school. She was really kind. But I’d also seen her lay someone out before for disrespecting her. She was smart as hell but always managed to end up in detention and for some reason I found myself getting into situations to get detention just so I could hang out with her.

Obviously, my parents didn’t love that but she was so intriguing. The whole neighborhood knew of her situation. Her mom definitely wasn’t the most pleasant neighbor. Y/n tried to escape that as much as she could but she was still viewed as the “troubled kid” growing up. Now we are 18 and on the verge of graduating. I was beginning to fear that she’d be gone soon. She’d told me before how she couldn’t wait to get out of this town, that there was nothing keeping her here.

Where would you go? I texted her.

Idk. Maybe the Outer Banks? Learn to surf, search for treasure, live like a Pogue. Lol. She responded.

We didn’t always stay up late texting but when we did our conversations were always interesting. I was always excited to see my phone screen light up with her name. It wasn’t constant, but often enough that Matt and Nick began to notice.

“Who are you texting?” Nick asked one day.

“Yeah, you smile like a goof every time you look at your phone.” Matt added.

“No one,” I responded quickly.

“That’s a fucking lie. Who is it?” Nick asked again. Matt quickly snatched my phone from my hands and ran away with it.

“Matt, what the fuck!” I yelled as I attempted to chase him. Matt tossed it over my head and Nick caught it at the perfect time for Y/n to text me back. My phone lit up with her name and photo and Nick's jaw dropped.

“Y/n?!”

“Ew, the weird bitch?” Matt added.

“She’s not fucking weird!” I snapped, grabbing my phone back. “Don’t fucking worry about it.” I stormed off to my room and since then they haven’t brought it up. Which was fine by me. They didn’t take the time to get to know her, no one did. She was actually cool as fuck.

I thought about texting her as I watched her walk further down the street. But it just didn’t feel right. I wanted to talk to her in person.

“Dude! What are you doing?” Matt burst through my door. “You totally fucked me and Nick in the game!”

“I’m done playing for now.” I told him as I went to my closet to grab my coat and snow boots.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”

“Chris!”

I hated keeping things from my brothers but this was something I didn’t feel like discussing with them further. They made it clear they didn’t care about Y/n. The only time they ever made comments is when they noticed her and her mom fighting. They knew she was my friend and that’s all they needed to know. All I cared about was catching up with Y/n and making sure she was okay. It was absolutely freezing outside.

I left out the backdoor without responding to Matt and made my way down the street.

Y/n’s POV

You let the tears fall freely from your eyes as you dragged your cigarette. One more semester until you graduate and then you could leave this god awful suburb for the rest of your life. After your dad died when you were just thirteen, your mom took all her anger out on you. The last five years had been miserable. You missed your dad. You missed when your mom didn’t drink. You missed when you were a regular family. Now you were just the girl everyone felt sorry for. The troubled one.

You made your way to the small pond near the end of your neighborhood. You were ready to sit and let the stillness of the water distract you until you heard footsteps behind you. Your body tensed, nervous for who would be out here at this hour. You reached in your pocket and grabbed your knife, quickly pulling it and turning it on the person walking your way.

“Whoa, whoa!” The dark figure said, stopping in his tracks with his hands up. “It’s me! Chris!”

“Chris?” You asked softly, lowering your knife. He stepped forward. It was indeed Chris Sturniolo. You took a deep breath at the sight of him. “You scared the fuck out of me!” You scolded.

“I’m sorry…” He said. Unsure if he should walk closer or not.

“It’s fine,” You chuckled. “What are you doing out here?”

“Oh, you know, just enjoying the freezing weather.” He said, smiling and stepping closer to you.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” You joke as your teeth chattered.

“What are you doing out here, Y/n?” Chris asks, his voice more serious now.

“Just needed some air.” You told him. “I like this pond in the summer. There are lots of frogs. I wonder where they all go in the winter…” Your face fell as you pondered the thought.

“Y/n..”

You sniffled as you looked down at the pond. Chris always knew. “What.” You responded. It wasn’t a question.

“You have mascara running down your cheeks.”

Christopher Sturniolo might have been the only person to ever see you cry. He always knew and he was always there. It was a rare occasion but as you thought back on it, he always seemed to appear when you were sad and find a way to cheer you up. Whether it be walking home with you, trying to make you laugh, or even just sitting next to you silently so you wouldn’t be alone.

“She said she wishes I wasn’t her daughter.” You confessed, allowing your head to fall. Chris wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him. Normally you hated being touched but you felt so comfortable with him. He wrapped one hand around your lower back and the other made its way to your hair as he towered just above you.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. You deserve so much more.” He said softly.

You cried more at his words. In what world did you deserve more? In what world did you deserve Chris?

“Y/n, you’re freezing.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll call Billy-”

“No. Come to my house.” He cut you off.

You were taken aback for a moment. You hadn’t been to the Sturniolo’s since their 13th birthday party. The only reason you were invited was because your father died. You couldn’t imagine his parents or brothers actually liked you.

“Chris, I can’t just intrude like that-”

“You’re not intruding. And I don’t want you at Billy’s.” He stated. You’d never heard the sweet Chris Sturniolo sound so serious about something. Billy definitely wasn’t the best guy but he always gave you a place to stay when you needed it. “I don’t trust him.”

Chris had no reason to trust him. Billy was a dick and often fucked people over. But having him as a connect meant a place to stay and drugs to do as long as you put out or helped him out. But to be invited to Chris’s house made you nervous. His parents were sweet. His brothers were protective. Chris bringing you home would be like bringing home a stray raccoon.

“Chris, I can’t.” You sigh.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not a good look sneaking some degenerate into your home at midnight,”

“I will walk you through the front door proudly,” He says. “Besides, my parents are asleep and my brothers are too invested in their game. Just come over for a bit to warm up? We can listen to music in my room.”

You thought about it for a moment.

“If you hate it, you live right across the street,” He smiled hopefully at you,

You couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Fine.” You say. “But just for a little bit! Once my mom is asleep I’m going home.”

“Deal.” Chris agreed, throwing his arm over your shoulder and guiding you back towards the street.

The two of you walked back to his house with minimal conversation.

“Wanna catch snowflakes?” Chris asked before sticking his tongue out and letting the snow fall on it.

You giggled at him but followed his lead. The crisp flakes on your tongue felt nice. You were having fun jumping around in the snow with Chris. You even stopped at the park to make stupid snow angels and throw snowballs at each other. Before you knew it, the snow was getting heavier, almost blizzarding.

“C’mon!” Chris yelled, grabbing your hand and running towards his house.

You made it to his porch and he opened the door slowly. The kitchen was mostly dark aside from the microwave light being on and the light that shined underneath Nick’s door. You could hear him still awake, obviously yelling at a video game he was playing.

Chris put a finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet as you both slipped out of your boots. He grabbed your hand and you both tiptoed through the dimly lit house and up to his room. You made your way down the hall and followed Chris into his bedroom.

“Make yourself at home,” He said with a smile. He went to his computer and logged into his Spotify. You scanned his room, noticing all the posters of his favorite artists on his walls. You could tell he was passionate about music.

“Who’s your favorite?” You ask. He looks at you and you gestured to all the posters.

“Skies, for sure!” He says. “What about you?”

You unzip your coat to reveal the shirt you got at Grey Day last year. “$uicideboy$”

Chris smiles at you. “I’ve never really listened to them. What’s a good song?”

“A Death In The Ocean Would Be Beautiful,” You say as you slip off your coat and sit on his bed.

Chris turns on his galaxy projector so that wave-like colors flow across his ceiling before he presses play and joins you on his bed. You both lay back and listen intently as you watch the lights.

“They’re kind of depressing…” Chris admits after the song is over.

You chuckle slightly. “Yeah, they can be. But they can be helpful. They get it, you know? What I’m going through.”

Chris turns on his side and you mirror his movements as if you were his natural reflection. “I hate hearing it every night.” He admits.

Your body curls into itself, you pull your sleeves further over your hands. “I’m sorry…”

“No, not like that,” He says, propping himself up on one arm and placing his other on your shoulder, gently tangling his fingers through the ends of your hair. “I just hate hearing you guys fight and seeing you walk out in the cold every night. You don’t deserve that.”

“Trust me, Chris. I’m no saint.” You say with a sad laugh.

“Don’t have to be a saint to deserve basic respect, especially from your own family.”

“I only have to deal with it for a few more months. When I graduate, I’m out of here.” You smiled at the thought.

“You know…I’m really going to miss you…” Chris says softly.

You look up to see his eyes already on you. You wanted to tell him you’d miss him too. You wanted to tell him to come with you, although you knew he’d never leave his brothers. You wanted to tell him he was the only good thing in your life and every time you were near him you felt happy and warm and like everything was going to be okay for once in your miserable fucking life. But with every single thought your brain contained about Chris Sturniolo, your mouth could only mutter three little words.

“I love you…”

Chris’s lips parted slightly with shock as his eyes quickly scanned your features.

“Fuck! I’m sor-”

You were quickly cut off when he pressed his lips to yours. You were taken aback for a moment but quickly leaned in to deepen the kiss. He brought his hand up to cup your jaw and your fingers found their way to his hair. His lips were soft and sweet and you felt that fluttering feeling in the pit of your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

He pulled away slightly and you frowned at the loss of contact. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long fucking time…” He said, his voice almost a whisper.

“I-I didn’t know you liked me…” You said. “Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You’re smart, you’re sweet, you know what you want, and pretty as hell.” He smiled. “Not to mention you’re like the strongest person I know. You deserve so much better than the cards you’ve been dealt.”

You felt tears welling in your eyes again but you couldn’t help but smile. You don’t know what you did to deserve the pretty boy who had his arms wrapped around you, but you hoped you never had to let him go.

“Can I stay?” You asked shyly.

Chris smiled and pulled his comforter over both of you. “Please,” He said.

You snuggled into him, resting your head on his chest while he played with your hair.

“And Y/n?” He said, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Mmm?”

“I love you, too.”

Tagging a few mutuals! Let me know if you want to be added/removed from tag list :)

Tags: @strniohoeee @flowerxbunnie @christinarowie332 @kenzieiskoolaid @bluesturniolo333 @chrattnick @recklesssturniolo @soursturniolo @byechristopher @justangelheree @sturnimovies

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo oneshot #my writing

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tooearlyforthis · 1 year

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Are We Still Friends? | Peter Parker

Ayo, did someone ask for a slightly depressing Peter Parker fic? Anyways, this fic is somewhat inspired by the song Are We Still Friends by Tyler the Creator <3

Pairing: Peter Parker x bsf!reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Synopsis: After being rejected by the only person that matters, Y/n struggles to come to terms with no longer having a best friend.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, mutual pining

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Every Friday of the summer, the residents of Forest Hills would stop whatever they were doing for one big barbecue. Fire hydrants were opened for the kids to play as the adults cooked whatever meat the butcher had given them that week. It was pure bliss.

Y/n always looked forward to these Fridays during the summer. Even when the sun was beating down hard on the asphalt, the community gathered to have a great time. She spent almost every barbecue this year with her best friend and neighbor Peter Parker. The two had been close friends ever since he had moved in with his aunt and uncle as a little boy.

They were inseparable from the moment they met, playing together, going to school, club activities; you name it, they did it. Their favorite hang-out spot, which hadn’t changed since they were little, was the fire escape. Y/n's apartment was only two over from Peter’s which meant they shared a fire escape overlooking the street below.

It was the perfect getaway for whatever life threw at them. Shitty birthdays, a breath of fresh air, when uncles pass away…it was the remedy for everything. It also happened to be a great spot to watch the barbecue festivities below.

On this particular Friday, Y/n sat atop the stairs, letting her legs dangle down below as her best friend settled into sitting next to her. She felt her heart leap as their shoulders collided, hoping that what she was about to tell him wouldn’t change this.

“If I have to hear Mrs. Duval talk about her skiing trip one more time I might just run away,” Peter said, adjusting his position on the stairs.

Y/n laughed and said, “Give her a break she has dementia!”

“Dementia or not I’m running away and I’m taking you with me.”

She watched as he stared off the fire escape, looking at the neighborhood below. He didn’t know how much that meant to her. A little joke about running off together and she felt herself being swept off her feet.

“Hey Pete?”

He turned to her with a smile.”Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you about something?” She rubbed her hands together, hoping that clammy feeling would go away.

Turning his body to face her more, his expression getting a little more serious he joked, “Oh no am I being called into the principles office?”

Y/n chuckled. “No uh…I just wanted to…” She trailed off, not knowing how she was going to confess.

“Is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah I just. Over the past couple months,” she began. “I just loved hanging out with you.”

She watched him smile, he cheeks getting slightly red. That was a good sign right? “Yeah I love hanging out with you too.”

“And like, we’ve been friends almost our entire lives so it feels silly that I’m only realizing this now but, I… I like you Peter. As more than a friend.”

Slowly looking up, she saw what she feared the most. The color had drained from Peter’s face, his eyes darting everywhere but at her. He shifted back slightly, adjusting himself a few inches away from her.

“Oh…” he said, unable to think properly. “I’m not sure what to say to that, Y/n…”

What had she done? Why did she think this was a good idea?

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, swinging her legs around back into the stairs. “I thought you felt the same but clearly I was wrong.”

“Y/n I’m sorry wait-“

“No, it’s okay. I misread things. Bye Peter.”

She got up quickly, climbing back through her apartment window without looking back. His voice rang out as she moved further into her apartment but she chose to ignore it. She knew what he was going to say. I’m sorry it’s not you, it’s me. I just don’t like you that way. She didn’t need him to hurt her more in this moment than she already felt.

That was the last time she had spoken to Peter Parker.

🕷🕷🕷

The school year was finally beginning and even though they weren’t friends anymore, could you still call them friends? It didn’t matter, even though they weren’t talking anymore, Y/n's crush never went away.

Because of their lack of communication, she didn’t know what classes he had been given for the year and as she walked through the halls of her first day of junior year, she felt her heart leap with the chance that they might share a class.

Scanning the room, she felt relief when she saw MJ. That was one of the harder parts of not speaking to Peter, they still shared all of the same friends. MJ was thankfully alone, something that felt increasingly rare as time passed. Approaching her at the lockers, Y/n crossed her arms and leaned against them.

“Hey,” she said.

MJ looked up from her book bag with a smile. “Hey,” she responded. “You ready to be seniors?”

“Ugh, I don’t know, I’m really not looking forward to the AP Gov class.”

“Yeah, I heard Mr. Gonzales isn’t that great. But…”

As MJ went on about their next class, Y/n felt her mind drifting away. She felt so nervous coming back to school after everything that had happened that summer. Her eyes scanned the halls, students filing in for the day's first class.

That’s when she saw him. Peter stood at the other end of the hall, looking around before locking eyes with her. No, this is not where she would see him again. It was the first day of school and she didn’t want to deal with their situation. Without another word, she pulled MJ into the first empty classroom she could find.

“What are you doing?!” MJ exclaimed as Y/n shut the door behind her.

“I saw Peter and panicked,” she responded, taking a deep breath.

“You can’t keep avoiding him, Y/n. He’s your best friend.”

“Was,” she corrected. “I don’t think I could call him that after what happened.”

Y/n slumped down on the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees as she tucked them against her chest. Sighing, MJ got down on the floor, sitting next to her friend. There wasn’t much she could do right now. Emotions were still high and the best thing was to just let it happen.

“I know it hurts,” MJ began as Y/n leaned against her shoulder. “But eventually things will get better. Who knows, maybe you and Peter could still be friends after all this.”

“I don’t know if we could…I mean, I’ve liked him for so long and the way he dismissed me was like it was a joke. I knew that confessing to him would change our relationship but I was so sure that he liked me back I hoped that it would be for the better. I took a chance and I chose wrong; there’s no going back from it.”

MJ wrapped her arm around her friend as she shed a tear. “I know, I know…” she consoled her.

🕷🕷🕷

The first three periods of the day went surprisingly fine; once math class started it was hard to think of anything but the equations on the board. MJ wouldn’t be joining Y/n for lunch. She had to go to a meeting for journalism which was just starting back up again.

As Y/n sat alone at the lunch table, silently eating her sandwich, she felt standing at the table in front of her. When she looked up, her lunch suddenly didn’t seem that appetizing.

“Hey,” Peter began playing with the hem of his shirt. He pointing at the bench in front of him. “C-can I sit here?”

Y/n stared back up at him, not mouthing word, not even swallowing her sandwich bite. She watched as he sat down anyway, awkwardly shuffling in the seat. It was clear he hadn’t rehearsed this as the two sat in silence - she felt like he was starting into her soul. Her heart rate sped up and she knew what would become of her if she stayed.

Peter began to open his mouth. “Je-“

He didn’t even have time to mutter name before she bolted upright, hastily grabbing her lunch before scurrying aware, dodging and weaving between students. She spit out her sandwich in the nearest trash can as she gasped for a breath. Why did he have to speak to her? In school for that matter?

Peter Parker was going to be the death of her.

🕷🕷🕷

Even though only a week had gone by since the start of school, Y/n had an ungodly amount of homework to complete. She sat hunched over at her desk, the lamp being the only source of light as the sun set throughout her study session. One of her moms had come in earlier that day asking her if she wanted to go out for dinner but she had refused, opting to finish her school work for the evening instead.

So she sat at home, listening to the soft sounds of some lo-fi playlist she turned on as she struggled to complete an essay. A thud sounded loudly and Y/n looked up for only a minute, choosing to believe it was from the song she was listening to and went back to her work.

Soon, there was another thud, and then another. It was so loud and eruptive to becoming from the speakers. Thud! The sound rang out again. No, that wasn’t the song, it was coming from the fire escape.

Y/n got up from her desk, turning off the music before walking over and lifting up her window. She peered onto the fire escape and seeing nothing coming from the left, she turned to the right and couldn’t believe the sight before her.

Spider-Man was on her fire escape, clutching his side as he tried to open a window. No, that wasn’t Spider-Man, that was Peter. She gasped for a moment, trying to take it all in. Peter was Spider-Man? How and when? But most importantly, why didn’t he ever tell her?

He must’ve heard her small gasp because he twisted his head around, unsure of what was behind him. A little relief flashed in his eyes before he remember that he wasn’t standing in front of her as Peter, but the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

“Y/n, hey-“ he began.

She already begun to pull herself inside her room, not wanting to face him, especially with all this new information. “I should leave-“

“No!” he called out, watching her freeze in her window. Slowly she stuck her head back out. “Please don’t go just-“ he grunted, grabbing his side more. “Can you help me open the window?”

She could tell he was in pain, not from the amount of blood seeping onto the metal stairs beneath them but from the disgruntled look in his face. She hated that look. She had seen it plenty of times before. After a fight with Flash, tripping on the sidewalk and apparently being shot at. She could never turn him away with that look.

Without saying another word, she pulled herself full onto the fire escape, making her way over to help push his window open. She crawled in first, lending a hand for him to lean on as he jumped inside.Tossing his mask on his bed, he opted to lay on the floor, still gripping his side.

“Thanks,” he said, looking up and seeing no Y/n in sight.

She must’ve crawled back through his window because it was once again shut. Peter led his head fall back in a sigh. He needed to fix this but first, stitches.

🕷🕷🕷

It was finally the next day of school and Y/n was still freaking out from the night before. She didn’t get back to studying, how could she after finding out her best friend- neighbor was Spider-Man?

She silently walked to her locker, letting her head hang low as she continued to mull over everything she was feeling. Her first reaction was anger. Angry at him for not telling her of his secret life. Spider-Man had of course been around since before they stopped talking so why didn’t he tell her? Why did he tell his - at the time - best friend?

Then the realization hit her. She didn’t need to help him. She couldn’t left him on that fire escape to fend for himself. From the stuff she had seen on the tv of him she knew he had probably gone through worse. But she did help him and that realization, that no matter what state their relationship was in, she would running to his aid. That no matter what - she would always love him.

It’s a lot, to realize that you’re not just going through a phase of having a crush. And it’s so much worse when you hear said crush calling after you.

“Y/n!” Peter’s voice rang out through the halls.

Why did he always seek her out in school? Y/n didn’t even bother to look back as she bolted down the hall into the first empty class room. Pacing back and forth she tried to calm herself down. Everything that had happened in the past week was becoming too much for her. Maybe breathing excesses could help?

Before she could even take a deep breath, the classroom door bursted open, a very out of breath Peter Parker standing in its wake. As the door slowly closed behind him, he moved towards her.

“Hey-“ he began before getting cut off.

“What are you doing here Peter?” she asked in defeat. “Why did you follow me?”

Whatever confidence he had before this suddenly went away, leaving a stuttering boy in its place. He looked down at the ground, trying to form a sentence.

“S-sorry.. About last night…”

“Oh my god Peter, if you’re here because you think I’m gonna tell people?” she scoffed. “You know my lips are sealed.”

“T-thanks,” he muttered out, watching as she began to pace again in front of her. “Hey Y/n?”

“What?” she asked annoyed.

“Are we still friends?” She stopped, looking over at him as he lifted his head to look at her, his brown eyes starting straight into her own. “C-can we still be friends?”

Y/n sighed, opening her mouth but know words came out. Could they still be friends? That was such a loaded question when everything was still fresh, like a wound that hasn’t had time to heal.

“I-I don’t know, Peter,” she opted to tell him.

“I keep repeating that day over and over again in my mind and… everything went downhill so fast. We barely had time to talk-“

“-We didn’t have anything else to talk about,” she interrupted him. Glancing at the clock behind her, she realized what time it was. “I have to get to class,” she told him, walking past him.

She barely got the door open when he called out to her again. “Wait! Meet me on the fire escape? 9:30 tonight?”

What was she supposed to say to that? No, she didn’t have to agree to anything. “Goodbye, Peter.”

🕷🕷🕷

The whole day felt it went by in a flash and before Y/n knew it, she was back home studying again. Only this time, she hadn’t been able to focus. In fact, she hadn’t been able to focus all day.

She stared at the math homework in front of her, unable to even lift her pencil as there was a rapping at her window. Turning her head, she sighed knowing who was on the other side. Reluctantly, she opened it, letting him climb in. Moving to her bed, she watched as he awkwardly looked around like he hadn’t been in her room a million times before.

“You didn’t meet me at 9:30,” he said, a crack in his voice.

Turning she looked at her alarm clock. It was 11:00. Had she really been staring at her homework for hours?

She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t think we had anything else to say.”

“That’s not true we’re friends-“

Scoffing, she interrupted him. “Are we Peter? Are we still friends? I know you think so but it doesn’t feel that way to me.”

“Only because you won’t let us,” he tried with her, only to be met with the shake of her head.

“I don’t know how we could go back to being just friends. You broke my hear that day… I thought you liked me too and-“

“I did like you!” He interrupted her, his voice erupting like he had been shouting the whole time. Y/n looked at him in shock, feeling her blood boil by the second. “I still like you.”

That was her breaking point. Liked her? He liked her and let her go through all this bullshit? Quickly, she stood up.

“No!” she exclaimed.

“Y/n-“

“Don’t Y/n me! I confess my feelings to you, you tell me you don’t feel the same way and then turn around with this bullshit and expect me not to be mad? We haven’t even talked about the Spider-Man stuff yet.”

“Can you just let me explain?” he pleaded, making her look back up at him.

She could see the hurt in his face, like she had done more damage to him than Flash or a bullet could ever do. And when Peter’s hurting, no matter how much she’s upset with him, she’ll go running to his aid. With a huff she sat back down on her bed, ready to hear out a boy that probably didn’t deserve speak at all.

“I’ve been replaying that moment after the barbecue, every day in my head since it happened,” he began. “I had been waiting so long to hear you say those things. That the girl I liked finally liked me back. The little voice in my head was jumping with joy, itching to tell you I felt the same way. But then, this other little voice appeared taking over, it was Mr. Stark-“

Y/n scoffed. “Tony Stark?”

Peter nodded, pleading with his expression to let him finish. Not being able to resist, she let him.

“His voice was just, ringing through my head. Keep everything you care about at a distance, never let anyone get too close or you could lose it all. I-I didn’t want to lose you so I didn’t tell you about Spider-Man. And that was fine at first, only two other people knew about it - it was a secret I could keep.

But then you said all those things I desperately wanted to hear and I just wanted lean forward and kiss you and…Mr. Starks words echoed in my head. If I kissed you or told you I felt the same way. That meant telling you about Spider-Man and than meant a great possibility of me losing you.”

Y/n felt her heart break more than it already did, feeling a tear roll down her cheek as she watch Peter break down in front of her.

Soon, he continued. “Uncle Ben once told me that with great power comes great responsibility … and I didn’t want to have to choose you or my power because I would chose you every time.”

The room fell silent with his last words, Y/n trying to process everything he had told her. She wiped a tear from her cheeks, trying to compose herself.

“I understand if your still mad at me or don’t like me anymore but please,” Peter begged. “I just need my best friend back.”

Y/n shook her head, standing up to meet his eye line. “I don’t think we can ever just be friends, Peter.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, watching her walk closer to him until she was standing just a foot away.

“You’re sure you still like me?”

“Yeah but-“

“Good,” she cut him off, grabbing both sides of his face and pulling him into a kiss.

She could feel how tense he was, surprised by her sudden action before melting into the kiss. It was slow and sweet, neither of them having much experience between the both of them. But that didn’t matter, there was time to improve. Right now, they just needed to know everything was going to be alright.

As she pulled away from the kiss, she felt as he rested his forehead onto hers, a smile forming on his face. She smiled back, happy to see that sad, hurt look leave.

“No more secrets, okay?” she asked.

“No more secrets,” he repeated. “So… more than friends?”

Y/n smiled wider than she thought was possible, pulling him back in for one more kick peck.

“More than friends,” she repeated.

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idesofrevolution · 10 months

Text

Requiescat

"Alright, my Musical Mentees, welcome back to my Channel! I am your friendly neighborhood musical critic, Kyle Donaghue, and today we're going to be reviewing something a little bit out of our typical wheelhouse!" Kyle sat with feigned excitement in front of his webcam. Though on the outside he eagerly drew out his intro for the 250th episode of his "Musique Critique" web series, internally he was livid. The young YouTuber had dreamed of becoming the go-to modern music critic on the platform but after almost two years of barely breaking a thousand views, he recognized he needed to do some market research on what his 347 subscribers wanted to see.

Thus, after asking his audience for requests, the music of some newer wannabe rockstar gained traction to be reviewed. To the music conservatory graduate, such low-brow "music" was beneath him; yet reality dictated that the business of content creation was based upon supply and demand. His audience demanded it, and if he wanted to gain any traction whatsoever, he needed to pivot. So, when the band in question, Catalyst, announced a new single drop, Kyle decided he was going to be the very first reviewer to tear it a new one.

"So you guys have been requesting I listen to this band called 'Catalyst' for a long time now, and today is finally the day. Apparently, the lead singer of Catalyst announced a few days ago that a new single was going to be released. I haven't heard much about them, so I did a bit of digging." Kyle clicked around on his computer, dredging up whatever he found in his five minutes of "research" the night before. "So, this band literally came out of nowhere. They're independent and are in talks with some record company about a deal, but nothing has come of it yet, so I'm going into this completely blind. They're out of Austin, Texas, and it's four guys who started the band out of this lead singer's parent's garage. The guy's name is Jaxon Black."

Kyle was literally reading off of some Tumblr fan blog about all this, but his audience certainly didn't need to know that. Why would he put in any effort for a band of this low caliber? "Black is 27 years old and started the band in 2013 when the four of them were in high school. They haven't really found any success, which is one of the reasons I'm surprised you wanted me to review them in the first place. They play in dive bars and some small venues, but nothing really outside of that." Scrolling through the blog, a picture of Jaxon Black actually appeared on the feed. He looked like any run-of-the-mill traditionally hot bad boy that you could find on the cover of GQ. What was so special about him?

"So, it's interesting too. This guy looks completely different than he did back when the band was formed. I totally get he was a kid when he started it, and there's puberty and whatever. But I mean, can you say plastic surgery? C'mon, guys. This guy is a 'serious musician' to you all?" Kyle sighed and wiped his face clear of the disgust he felt inside, putting on the eager façade he felt he needed to emulate. "But for you guys, I will make an exception, I'll give Jaxon Black and Catalyst a chance. I'm doing this for you! Just know that!" With that, he began to screen share, and the handsome visage of Jaxon Black was plastered on his screen as it would be for the whole review. The single didn't have any album art or anything, it was just a Soundcloud link; so in hopes that his audience would see right through this charade, he let would make them look at the face of the man who wrote whatever terrible song he was preparing to hear.

"See what I mean, guys? Ugh. I'm sorry, anyways. Here it is. The link that's posted on this fan blog brings me to Soundcloud, and there's no title or anything. It's just called 'Untitled', so we're off to a great start. But like I said, let's give the guy a chance. So without further ado, here is Catalyst's 'Untitled.'" With the press of the space bar, the sound of a slower ballad began to play through his earbuds.

The song began with a slow and heavy bassline in A flat Locrian, immediately an odd choice to start with. Contrarian, in Kyle's opinion. In terms of influence, it was an odd mixture of stereotypical hard rock like Guns n' Roses or Aerosmith, prog rock like Yes and Pink Floyd, with a random hint of Santana? Kyle did his best to stifle the cringe which trickled down his spine, but his face could do nothing to hide it. He felt the corners of his lip tense up and purse, his left nostril tweaking in pure annoyance.

"Starting off in Locrian... that's an interesting choice." He muttered under his breath. Looking at the progress bar, he saw the song was a full seven minutes and thirty-six seconds long. Lovely. "I feel like this is gonna be 'Hotel California' but bad, not gonna lie to you guys." Though, as the electric guitar faded in, quiet and subtle, it took Kyle by surprise. The technique that Black employed in his riffs, with precision he'd rarely heard outside of a classical guitarist, was nothing short of impressive. "Okay, the guy's got some skill. I'll give him that."

The music felt lugubrious, giving the sensation of swimming through a vat of molasses, pushing and pulling at great tension. It was near impossible for him to put into words, but the gravelly tenor timbre of Black's voice deftly began to soar atop the dredging music below. Evoking Eddie Vetter or perhaps even Jon Bon Jovi, the words were not exactly easy to decipher. Frankly, the song was almost trancelike, as if he'd taken a handful of mushrooms before embarking on his musical journey.

"Guys, I don't know how to explain it, this shouldn't work but it... it kind of does? I don't... I don't know." Kyle leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The song had actually piqued his interest and intrigue, it was unlike anything he'd ever really heard before. Yet, it felt so familiar in ways far outside his comprehension. Waves of goosebumps washed across his body, barrage after barrage. The music became a full-body experience, and he was rendered speechless for the first time in his life. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Kyle tried his best to analyze the theory engrained into the song but found his mind to be a mere void that was seemingly being filled with viscous liquid. The longer the song went on, the more his mind felt entirely numb.

"I'm... I'm impressed, guys..." Words began to falter, his tongue feeling swollen and heavy. Behind his closed eyes, ribbons of bright colors danced against the black backdrop, bursts of red and purple illuminating the periphery like clouds of heat lightning. He could feel the notes meandering through the air and landing on his body, pressing down with the force of a boulder each time. "He's... he's really good, guys..." A thick dribble of saliva oozed through the gap in his open lips.

It was as if he was being drained of all his energy, all of his willpower, every last ounce of strength which propelled him to live. And yet, despite the darkness he could feel creeping over his body, he was oddly at peace. As if moving of their own accord, Kyle felt himself shuck his shirt from his body, now covered in a sprinkling of sweat across his limber torso and head. The music pulsated from within him as if he were the amp himself, seemingly making the muscles in his arms expand and contract. "I can... I can feel him in there..." Kyle couldn't even fathom how he'd gotten here. He was in his room, sitting in his chair and yet, he was somehow with Black, inside the music. With every heavy pick of the bass, his biceps began to swell and firm; veins distinctly snaked down his strong forearms and into his callousing fingers. His body temperature was now sweltering, shedding every ounce of water and liquid within him into the beadlets of sweat which cascaded down from his thickening pecs and cobbling abs.

The drums and synthesizer came in, further enriching the already complicated chords which tickled his ear like a soft, warm breath. The bass line was an ebb and flow, weaving and bobbing as the song soared through the chorus, a melody that sent a ripple of lust across his body. It was as if he were on a ship in a storm, one which was luring him deeper into the dark waters as his thighs began to balloon out of the sweat-stained shorts he wore. The power of the music seeped into his veins, imbuing him with a foreign energy from a distant shore beyond his corporeal being. His calves spasmed and inflated, while his feet stretched out wider and stronger in his quickly ripening socks.

Black's voice was now all that Kyle could hear in his head, every indecipherable word rang as some existential truth. Kyle's thoughts were no longer his own, he was just along for the ride, a passenger in his own mind. He was no longer in control of his actions, nor his thoughts. His breathing had become heavier, slower... The music had invaded his very being and taken control. Spatterings of black ink began to sprawl across his glistening smooth skin, each with some sort of esoteric reference which he would not yet understand. Grim Reapers, skulls, geometric designs of unhuman origin now proudly displayed across his strong body.

"Fuuuck, man. This shit is amazing..." His voice gradually grew scratchy and smoky from years of singing for crowds of headbanging punks in cramped, smelly bars. He reached to his left, eyes still closed in euphoric bliss, snatching the small joint which now sat on the edge of his desk. Kicking his sweaty, buttery feet up onto the wooden surface, he brought the smoking j to his lips, dragging a heavy dose of creative vapor into his powerful lungs. "Fuckin' hell, you guys... I mean... shit." He blew out a heavy, grey plume of smoke from his wide nostrils. "This song is fuckin' incredible."

He pulled down his shorts and briefs, letting his lean but long dripping cock slap against his navel. Strings of pre seeped out of his pulsating cockhead, making winding rivers flowing down toward his sagging sac. A large prince albert ring now adorned the top of his uncut shaft, with three frenum piercings towing down his urethra in succession. The slightest touch from his calloused fingers wreaked immeasurable pleasure, radiating from the groin all across every inch of his body. Thus, as he wrapped his hand tightly around the limber shaft, gently caressing the prince albert with the tip of his index finger, he could barely breathe without a quiet moan escaping his throat. Quickly, the fondling turned into a measured, intentional pump with each beat of the music.

The drums and bass were now coming together in a thunderous crescendo, Kyle could feel his very blood bubbling beneath his skin as it made his way up his strong neck and toward his skull as he hastened his pace. The room around him began to blur and distort. Bookshelves formerly lined with music theory textbooks and repertoires of classical mainstays were warped into racks of well loved guitars: Fender, Gibson, Sqiuer, & Ibanez. The pristine white duvet-covered bed was now clad with sleek black satin sheets and a shiny vinyl comforter. The portraits of famous composers which once adorned the wall were now a collage of posters: Black Sabbath, Def Leppard, Motley Crue, Metallica, AC/DC, The Ramones, Aerosmith, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Led Zeppelin, Iron Maiden. Piles of ripped up, weathered clothes, marinating in the sweat of shows past now littered the dingy red carpet.

The blood had finally arrived at the precipice of his brain, and like a tidal wave crashing against the rocks, it overtook him. His hair darkened to a deep black, his brows furrowed, his lips now plump and curled into a permanent cocky smirk. This was his kind of music. This was his genre. This was the message he was born to bring to the masses. It was a message of rebellion, of raging against the corporate machine of whitewashed mass-marketed culture. A flash of bright red and teal illuminated the room from behind Kyle's closed eyes as rope after rope of his spunk shot from his cock onto the laptop and camera. He roared in climax, louder than he'd intended, but nothing his neighbors were unfamiliar with in regards to the activities the apartment notoriously beheld.

The music had stopped, the final note hung in the air for a moment before retreating back into the abyss as his shorts melted into a dense magenta slime, moving down his muscular legs until they covered his entire lower half before hardening into slick gator skin pleather pants and a pair of beat up black combat boots wafting the scent of his musky feet. Axel opened his now black eyes, letting out a sigh of complete satisfaction.

"Now that's what I call fuckin' music, man! See why I wanted ya to experience it? It's like a requiem for corporate machine, man. That's why Catalyst is my fuckin' muse. Their music is gonna take over the whole fuckin' world." A loud pinging signaled Axel to check his phone, where his bandmates, performing as Hammerthrow, were confirming their next gig in L.A. "Fuck yeah, guys. Just landed the Cali gig. I'm thinking we cover this masterpiece and mind fuck them into oblivion. Catch us in Azuza next week, kids. You don't wanna miss it." With that, he ended his recording, smirking mischievously as he uploaded it to his channel. The song certainly was going to change the world, even if the world itself wasn't ready.

#male transformation #body transformation #original #transformation #musky #gay transformation #punkification #rocker transformation #music transformation #badass transformation #bad boy

349 notes · View notes

thefallennightmare · 1 year

Text

Moment of Weakness-one

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest *

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Notes: I'm not too sure how long this series will be so let's just enjoy it!

Tags(open): @splendidreads @sebsgirl71479 @mdpplgtz03 @pattiemac1 @elizacusi-blog

The heels of my boots smacked against the hardwood floor as I hurried around the room, trying to finish my work. The setting sun had blasted its rays through the window, an indication that I had about a half hour left before the work day had ended and I was able to go home.

Even though I would have rather stayed longer, with him.

Part of me thought of going to ask him if he needed me to stay later tonight but that would require me going into his office and talking to him; something I had only done one or twice in the few months of me working here.

Any time he needed something, he would either write a note and leave it on my desk or send me an email. We barely spoke to each other and if we did it was a quick good morning as he was walking in and a goodnight as I was walking out.

He was always right behind me in the morning, both of us usually arriving at the same time but he would always stay much later in the evenings, long after I had gone home.

Being New York’s top mob boss was a full time gig and it kept him busy. Which is why he hired me. When I first applied for the job, I thought I would be the assistant to a C.E.O or something. Needless to say, I had been shocked on my first day when I walked in and noticed who I was actually working for.

His name was the hush gossip around town, his mob gang running the neighborhood I had lived in my whole life. It has been passed down from generation to generation. When he found out that I had lived here and remembered his grandpa running the gang before his father did, I had been hired on the spot.

When I told the people in my life of my new job, they were worried for my safety. They reminded me that I could have gotten a job anywhere in New York, why did I agree to this one?

The pay was perfect, exactly what I needed to get by and then some, but the main reason why I accepted this job was because of him. It would have been a lie if I said I didn’t find him attractive. I had to keep reminding myself, though, that it was just a crush. Nothing more.

Of course, I couldn’t help but worry on how I would be assisting him. But it ended up being the typical mundane tasks any assistant would have. Running errands for him, helping sort his meetings, taking some calls, deterring anyone he didn’t want to see or didn’t have a meeting away. There was only one person who was allowed to walk into his office freely.

Her.

With a soft sigh, I packed up all of my belongings, the clock on the wall striking six in the evening, and the thought of sitting on my couch in my lazy clothes watching trashy television brought a smile to my face.

The door behind my desk clicked open and I felt the warmth radiate from him as he walked out, a charming smile across his soft features.

“Leaving for the night?”

My eyes glanced at him and felt my heart begin to pound in my chest, the vibrations echoing up to my throat.

I nodded. “Unless you need something else from me?”

He shook his head, a smile still plastered over his face. It was almost as if he knew how much his smile made me weak in the knees. The hairs that had been slicked back when he arrived this morning were now a mess on top of his head, no doubt from him running his hand through it. With the light from the lamp on my desk, I could see the few gray hairs that peaked underneath the browns of his beard.

He looked breathtaking.

My eyes darted to his left arm, the black and gold vibranium catching the said before light and I had to force myself to look away, so I didn’t get caught staring.

Except I knew I had because he hid his hand into his jacket pocket.

“No, you go home. Enjoy the rest of the night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Have a good night Mr. Barnes,” I smiled with a red face at being caught.

“I already told you, Y/N. You can call me Bucky,” he insisted.

I smiled at my boss, James Buchanan Barnes, and while tossing my bag over my shoulder bid him a goodnight with a nod. I could feel his burning gaze on my backside as I walked away.

I hummed a low tune while I typed away at the computer in front of me, the list of emails waiting to be sent. Bucky had made sure that this task was my number one priority today because the monthly meeting with the other two mob gangs that ran the other neighborhood around us was coming up. He wanted to make sure that those leaders knew what was going to be discussed before they would arrive that day.

It had been held here at Bucky’s office for the last handful of years because of his reputation and position in the mob. He was well respected among the other gangs, their own leaders looking up to him. The reason for these meetings were to discuss business, of course, but also to make sure that everyone remembered who was in charge.

A large presence was felt behind me but I didn’t have to look to see who it was. A smile pulled at the corner of my lips but kept my attention on the email I had been typing.

“Need something?” I asked over my shoulder.

The blonde smirked. “I’m just wondering when you’re doing the next coffee run.”

I spun around in my chair, eyes glancing up towards the man. His beard had been a bit fuller since I saw him last week and his long hair was slicked back, his blue eyes shining bright.

“Last time I checked Rogers. I’m not your coffee runner,” I joked while standing to my feet and gave his chest a pat.

The firmness of it did not go unnoticed by me.

Steve chuckled. “It’s Buck. He’s ready for his afternoon coffee with lunch.”

I nodded. “Is he busy or can I pop in to get his order?”

He held up a piece of paper in his hand. “I already got it. Bucky wants me to go with you.”

“Sam usually comes with me,” I raised a brow. “

Steve shrugged with his hands in his pockets. “Figured you could use a change of company.”

I nodded, eagerly to spend some time with him. Steve was not only one of Bucky’s bodyguards but was also his childhood best friend. The two of them grew up together and while I didn’t speak much to Bucky, Steve and I found ourselves talking almost every free chance we could. There had been a few times our conversations had taken a flirtatious route, neither of us correcting it or changing it. What started off as fun was slowly becoming serious which confused the hell out of me.

Admittedly, he was very attractive as well but there was only one man that currently kept my wandering eyes, even if that’s all that it would come too. I wouldn’t allow it to become anything else because of her.

“Bucky does know that I don’t need someone to come with me almost every time I run errands for him, right?” I spoke.

Steve nodded. “He does but it’s company policy.”

I playfully scoffed. “Is that what you think of me, Steve? Company policy?”

There was a flash of something in his eyes and his tongue quickly darted over his lips.

“You really want to know what I think?” Steve’s voice became heavy as he took a step closer.

I met him halfway, chin raised up to him. “Yeah, I really do.”

We stared at each other, gazes burning, and I couldn’t ignore the way my stomach flipped when Steve’s bottom lip got stuck between his teeth and I knew he heard me suck in a breath when he began leaning closer.

Someone clearing their throat caused me to move away from Steve and when I saw who had caught us, my heart sunk.

Bucky stared at the two of us, lips parted in confusion. “Am I interrupting something?”

Steve sighed while shaking his head. “Always had perfect timing, Buck.”

A red blush of embarrassment covered my body and I kept my gaze at my feet while the two friends bickered back and forth. I waited for them to finish so I could make the afternoon coffee run, hoping that the rest of the day went by fast.

“James, you’re not going to believe who I ran into at the shops this morning.”

My head snapped up at the petite voice, eyes watching with jealousy as the woman placed a quick kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Bucky mused.

Steve nodded with a smile. “Hey Natasha.”

The red head smiled back at Steve. “James keeping you busy?”

“He’s actually letting me leave with Y/N to grab the lunch order,” Steve joked while looking at me.

Natasha's gaze followed and even if her smile said one thing, the look in her eyes said something completely different: annoyance.

“How are you, Y/N?,” she asked.

I gave her my own fake smile. “Good.”

It wasn’t news to anyone that Natasha wasn’t happy about Bucky hiring me, she wanting to be the only girl in the office but as Bucky told her many times, it was his choice and his alone.

“Well, I have to fill you in on my morning,” Natasha returned her attention back to Bucky.

My broken gaze watched as she cupped his cheek to lay a kiss upon his lips, the diamond on her left-hand glimmering in the sunlight.

Steve noticed the way I longed to be in her position, so he gently nudged me. “Ready to go?”

My eyes locked with Bucky’s for a second, a small glimmer mixed with the blue pool of his iris', before I had to force myself to look away once again, now staring at Steve.

“Yep.”

Steve wrapped an arm around my shoulder and nodded a fast goodbye to Natasha and Bucky before leading me away from them.

With our backs to them, I hadn’t seen the look Bucky burned into Steve, who still had his arm nestled on top of my shoulder.

#mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes and yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan #moment of weakness-mob!bucky barnes

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wyn-n-tonic · 7 months

Text

What Lovers Do

Pairing: Bob Floyd x f!reader Word Count: 3.6k Warnings: Awkward first time sex. Blood. Author's Note: I was talking with my friends about what sleeping with Bob might be like as a first time after it's been a LONG TIME since sex and this happened. You're welcome. Or I'm sorry. Whichever one you find the most fitting for you.

A new letter to add to the pile, every single one saved since you first started sending them.

Everybody called it old fashioned and silly. Told us we have computers and cellphones now and that the Navy isn’t prison, he’d have access. But there’s something that’s just stuck about it, about the joke that you’d write him every day until he sent one saying he was coming home

On one of the phone calls taken through timezones and half closed eyes, he said he liked it. He looks forward to mail call each day and he looks forward to coming back to base to find so many waiting for him that he gets to read like a book. He thinks, you think, that it tempered the hormones and the newness of it all.

A United States Postal Service version of courtship.

And now he’s coming home.

The boy you crushed over as a child on the swings while your mothers sipped coffee on the deck. The first boy you ever kissed with no knowledge of what kissing was or what it meant. In one of those letters, he brought it up.

Remember that time I kissed you when we were four?

You did, you do. He said it was what people who loved each other did, mommies and daddies. You were playing house, it made sense and, yes, you loved him. In the way that children understand love that is.

You understood this was a person in your life, you saw him all the time. For you, that made sense. He made sense and when he wasn’t there anymore, it didn’t make sense why you and your parents couldn’t go with him and his. Why they couldn’t stay.

And now he’s coming home. Three months after you started talking again. Three months after you walked into a dinner, a small party, thrown by your parents to welcome his back and found a grown up version of that very same boy from before.

He accompanied you to the store to get more wine and then out the door back out to those swings that were never taken down. Then in a walk around the neighborhood that turned into a drive around town that turned into talking on the phone and letters.

When the letters started, you weren’t even a thing. Truthfully, really, you don’t even know if you’re a thing now. It was there on the tip of both of your tongues, the idea was present. The letter he sent asking if you remembered the kiss is the same one where he confessed that he’d been harboring a crush his whole life. He said it was easier to tell you that way because, if you didn’t feel the same, you didn’t have to answer and he could suffer the rejection on a delayed timeframe instead of hearing the click of the phone as you hung it up.

The letter says today, which is not what he said on the phone last night. Today, at five, on a plane coming from San Diego. Except it’s six and you just read it and there’s no chance you can get to the airport and he’s not answering his phone. So all you can do is pace and check your make up over and over again attempting to have control over something. Sure, you could clean but you’ve already told him how messy you are and these are not cleaning nerves.

Truthfully, these aren’t even nerves you’ve had since prom night with another guy you didn’t particularly like in the back of a car you didn’t particularly feel comfortable in.

Three knocks then and one more glance in the mirror checking for a run in black tights, a stain on the white sweater or a rip in the skirt. Maybe smudged lipstick. Just anything to prolong answering the door if it can get these nerves down.

Because this is Bob, the one who makes sense. The one who, really, has always made sense. These nerves shouldn’t be here, there’s nothing about him to be nervous over.

Except you haven’t kissed him since you were four and the letter he sent said he couldn’t wait to do just that, that he felt like there was so much lost time to make up for.

Another knock and then the phone rings, both of them him.

Him, at the door, the lip pulled between his teeth quickly released as he drops the hand holding the phone up to his ear. “I'm sorry I didn’t come sooner, I needed to”—he swallows—“grow a pair.”

“Grow a pair?”

He shrugs, shoulder dropping just as fast as it was raised. “Couldn’t figure out if I should bring you flowers or be prepared to finally get that rejection.”

“So where are the flowers?”

He looks down at his hands and then back up, light catching his glasses and then his crooked smile. “None of them were good enough for you.”

“I’m not going to reject you,” you tell him, leaning against the door. “And I think that anything you brought me would’ve been good enough.”

“Well, I brought myself. How’s that?” His eyes squint a little on that, flicking up and down your body and not for the first time since you opened the door.

Which makes you realize that you’re still just standing there.

And it’s cold.

And he’s pretty.

And he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you; like he’s had this low simmering hunger growing in his belly for God knows how long. “Do you want to come in?”

“You didn’t answer me.”

“You're perfect,” you tell him, stepping aside to give room for his body to come through the door. “How was your flight? Have you eaten? Do you want—“

It didn’t really hit, at the dinner, how tall he was. You were just so excited to see him and to know that he was excited to see you, his height didn’t even register but he’s big. Big and leaning over you with his lips pressed softly against yours.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked,” he whispers when he pulls away. “I just needed to do it because I would’ve been too nervous otherwise.”

Everything feels almost on fire with how close he is, the heat in the house suddenly becoming too much. You wish he’d done that in the open door instead of waiting for it to close.

“I only just got your letter today,” you tell him, ignoring his nerves in some kind of ploy to ignore your own. “I didn’t have time to clean or shop, I don’t have anything to cook for you.”

That makes him laugh, lips stretching across your cheek to let the noise tumble out against you. “Gorgeous girl, let me take you out to dinner the way I’ve been imagining I’d get to all this time.”

“You want to take me out?” Thank god you read the letter before you washed your face.

“Want to do a lot more than take you out to dinner.” He looks like he wants you to be his dinner. “But I’m trying to behave myself, I already know I’m coming off really strong.”

He’s not coming off strong at all, you’re just not really comprehending it. Not when he holds your hands so gently.

Not in the car, where he insists he’ll drive.

Not when he’s staring at you across the table.

It just makes sense and it’s fine. It’s good, actually. It’s comforting to sit beside him, his eyes roaming every inch that he can, and know that you don’t have to spill all your secrets because all the talking and the catching up you did all these months, through phone lines and fancy stationery, took care of that for you.

But it’s also still nerve shaking, the way he looks at you with so much reverence. It’s a respect that’s enduring even back inside your apartment, where he’s dropped his bags with an apology that he didn’t mean to be presumptuous but he also didn’t want to be caught with his dick in his hands, completely unprepared, if it turned out it wasn’t presumptuous at all.

“This is weird,” you finally tell him, pulling as far back as you can from where he’s pinning you to the mattress.

“Too strong?” He’s set his glasses to the side, on the table by your bed next to your book and the letters. You’ve been beneath him for the better part of an hour, kissing like teenagers in the back of a car.

Your head shakes. “I’ve just never slept with a guy on the first date.”

Bob’s chest is heaving, smooth skin stretched over lean muscle and he runs a hand through his hair (which really shouldn’t be as sexy as it is but—holy shit) and smiles. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“I want to.”

“Are you sure?”

He said once, in one of the letters, how people look at him and assume things about him. He looks scrawny in his uniform, geeky in his glasses; he’s got a consistent haircut and a baby face that always makes him look like it’s school picture day.

To everybody else, Bob is green—inexperienced.

And he uses that to his advantage with his quiet demeanor and his big hands and his capability.

Robert Floyd is very capable at what he’s doing as he unhooks the bra stretched tight across your back.

“You have a lot of sex, do you?” You ask, pulling away from him again.

His face is red, a blush that splashes out in random patterns across his face and chest, and he shrugs. “I’ve had my fair share,” he says, “the uniform does a majority of the work.”

“You're doing a lot of work right now.”

That makes a smile spread across his face. “A beautiful woman like you, everybody would be a fool not to put in work for you.”

“That's very sweet of you, Bob.” All that confidence you felt in the phone calls and the letters has long faded to make room for the heat running up your own cheeks. “Nobody’s ever really worked for me.”

His smile falters. “Is that self deprecating, sweetheart?” He doesn’t like the self deprecating, he hasn’t liked learning all the ways you pulled in on yourself over the years.

The look he gives you is a weight in the pit of your stomach, warm and blooming but also cold like steel. You can feel yourself pulling in on yourself and away from him the way you’ve feared you would. “Just a fact,” you tell him, trying to shrug it off the way you’re trying to shrug beneath his hold. “It’s been a while for me, I don’t really…” Your head shakes. “I haven’t been with anybody since college.”

“Really?” How anybody could suggest the man pulling away to sit up completely is inexperienced is beyond you. “I mean, if that’s what you wanted.”

It was but it isn’t like you didn’t have the chance. Which is what you tell him but what turned you off is how people reacted to it—just like him now. Separating himself with assurances that it’s okay. Of course it’s okay but it doesn’t make you less than or untouchable.

“You act like my grown back virginity is contagious, Bob.”

He huffs a laugh. “You can’t grow it back and, besides, it can’t have been that long ago. College was not that long ago.”

As subtly as you can, you attempt to put your bra back into place while reminding him you’re both closer to thirty than not. “It’s been quite a few years.”

“Not even one?”

Briefly, you consider asking him to go, to pick up his bags and come back tomorrow after you’ve both slept and showered. Instead, you say, “I lost my mind once or… you know, that’s what I call it. I downloaded one of those apps and swiped until something stuck.”

“Until something stuck?” He asks. He’s asking a lot, you’ve asked practically nothing. “What does that mean?”

“It means that”—you’ve given up on the bra, pulling it off and through your sleeve instead—“I swiped until I found a guy who looked kind of like the pictures my mom showed me from your mom’s Facebook and I…thought of you.”

His eyes don’t even follow the bra as you toss it to the side, breathing deep beneath his gaze as he puts it together with crimson brushing all the way up to the tips of his ears.

A beat.

Maybe two.

He’s still staring you down but not saying much else and that weight drops again, like a strong man game at the carnival. It went up with the hit to ring the bell in the middle of your chest before it slammed back to start with the same force you gave it. “Say something, Bobby.”

“I-uh—“ He clears his throat and runs his thumb along his bottom lip before taking a deep breath. “I visited once just to see if I’d maybe run into you and, you know, I did… kinda. You were with some guy and I”—he clears his throat again—“may or may not have jerked off so hard my dick hurt for two weeks straight about it.”

Oh.

“What did the guy look like?”

“Well”—he leans forward, voice dropped low—“he kinda looked like me.”

It’s amazing how black his eyes can be when it looks like he’s got a trick or five up his sleeve. Only he’s shirtless and doesn’t leave you waiting for long, body launching across the distance between you to push you over and down again.

And it’s not quite like a weight in your belly now so much as a weight on your belly, heat radiating through his rough palms as they sneak higher and higher up your torso.

“I'm kind of scared to have sex with you,” he whispers against your lips, answering the question before you can even why, saying, “I'm afraid I won’t live up to your fantasies.”

“I'm afraid I won’t live up to yours.”

It’s not even a sentence he fully lets you finish, lips dragging across your jaw and hips pushing down against yours and the bunched up skirt. Bob Floyd is so not inexperienced.

He’s just subtle and private, even going so far as to close the bedroom door despite the fact that you live alone. This unassuming, private, quiet man who closes doors and says please and thank you as he’s asking for your shirt to go and pulling your tights down and off.

No bra, no shirts and no glances down your body because that would mean taking his lips off of you. But when he does dip low next to your ear to ask if he can look at you, it’s the easiest yes of your life.

It’s not nervous, you don’t want to cover yourself back up. It feels as good to be looked at him as it feels to have him on you. And, again, you have no idea how anybody could ever see this man as inexperienced or—what did he say?—Baby on Board is so beyond you.

“You're still really dressed,” you tell him, poking the belt buckle that looks close to snapping with the tip of your big toe. “You should take this off.”

His eyes fall to the space between your legs again and he smiles. “You're still wearing your skirt.” And the panties he didn’t take with the tights. “If we’re being completely fair here.”

“This is weird,” you say for the second time tonight. “We used to play in sandboxes together and now—“

“Now I’m trying to make good on my promise that kissing is what people who love each other do, sweetheart,” he says, hooking his fingers into the elastic waistband, “so ladies first on this one.”

Ladies first, another thing to add to all his manners. All his manners and the dirtiest mouth. Because you can hand it to his colleagues on one front—he does not look like a man who knows the word cunt and he certainly doesn’t look like he’s ever used it.

And it’s working but it’s not enough to combat the nerves. Especially when he lifts himself up enough again to undo his belt, it’s like your whole body tightens up again.

“We don’t have to, “ he says for what feels like the seventeenth time. “We can just snuggle”—he laughs and shrugs—“or I could fuck off.”

“I don’t want you to fuck off,” you tell him. “I very much would not be naked if I did.”

Not even an hour ago, he was saying he didn’t want to be caught with his dick in his hands and now that’s exactly where it is. Dick in his hands, smile on his face. He’s beautiful.

“Can you even see me right now?” You ask him, grasping for something to cover the nerves.

He affirms that he can as he pushes himself back down against you, mouthing opening against yours and every muscle in your body tensing up beneath him. It’s some combination of nerves for how much you like him and nerves over how long it’s been.

It always hurt before and you know it’s not supposed to but it hurts now, too. He hurts but you tell him it doesn’t after you try your best for some air in the space between your bodies—your lips. It’ll get better, you promise him that it will and that you’re just nervous every time.

Really, it should. It does. Performance anxiety or not, it’s easy to relax around his presence and his gentle hands and the soft press of his lips as he gives into the way you grab at him.

Grasp at him, pull at him.

All of him and any little bit of him. There’s so much time and so many feelings to make up for. So many songs he could’ve broken your heart to already every time he had to say goodbye.

“What are these?” He asks, the drag of his knuckles against the heat of your face. “Am I hurting you?”

“No.”

“Baby.” All his worry in one word as he pulls away and out to sit up and pull you with him.

“Am I bleeding?” You ask, afraid to look down but aware of what every other experience has held thus far and exactly what the partner at the time sounded like when they pointed it out.

It makes you want to run when he looks down and nods. “I did hurt you.”

Your head shakes and he pulls you even closer, large hands grabbing to hold on as you’re shaking and cold until you’re close enough for just little whispered words. So quiet and warm as he tells you over and over again that it’s okay.

Of course it is, it’s Bob. The one who makes sense—who’s always made sense.

You tell him it happens sometimes—it happens every time—but that doesn’t seem to calm the guilt he’s feeling.

“You want me to kiss it better?” He asks, voice somehow even lower like you’re not the only two people in the apartment.

“I don’t want to.”

Bob brushes his fingertips along the swell of your cheek and asks, “do you really not want to or are you afraid that I’m afraid of a little blood?”

“Both,” you tell him, fairly certain the smile across your face is the reason he even asked that question to begin with. “It was a long day before I got your letter, I think that maybe I-I need sleep and”—you laugh—“maybe a fucking muscle relaxer or a Xanax. I hate to think I’ve made you feel unattractive o-or not good.”

“You didn’t,” he confirms and his hair is so messy with how many times you’ve run your fingers through it. “I could’ve been slower—“

“It wasn’t fast.”

“Still,” he says before offering to change the sheets. “Tell me where they are and you can go shower, I’ll join you in there.”

Parting leaves you pacing again, back and forth in the bathroom. Only, this time, you’re naked and ignoring the ache between your legs as you wash the make up off instead of fixing what was there over and over again.

In the reflection, you watch as he strips the bed. It may have been years but so many nights have ended like this but only for you. And it was usually tear soaked and lonely as you stripped the bed yourself and made it back up again.

Now, though, he’s here. He’s stayed here instead of leaving, whether by your own insistence or his—he didn’t leave.

His smile is the kind you could get used to, the comfort he has in this space around you already to be naked and open. This comes from all those letters and long, sleepless nights on your of the line, yeah. But it also comes from the childhood you spent together and the years that you didn’t.

In the shower, you pull him down and to your lips before he can even think about leaning over. The first one to kiss him this time, void of all nerves you’ve carried for hours up to just minutes ago.

He said it years ago, beneath the swings in your backyard. “This is what people who love each other do.”

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun maverick #tgm #top gun maverick fanfiction #lewis pullman character

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oracle-of-dream · 7 months

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The Cutie At The Carwash

Summary: You heard about a carwash happening in the community from the nearby fraternity house. One of the frat boys, Sunwoo, really knows how to rake in the customers...

Pairing: Fratboy!Sunwoo x GN! Reader

Word Count: 2.3k~

Genre: Light Smut

Contains: humor, teasing, pet names, slight dirty talk, Kissing

It's deep in the summer afternoon, the Sun blazing and the sky is clear and blue. All of your friends were sitting near fans and surrounded by popsicles but you were getting ready to go out.

One of your friends saw you walk out of the bathroom in a cute outfit. "Y/n, where the heck are you going?"

"My parents are making me go run some errands and I'm gonna go get my car washed too," I explained. "Did anyone want to come with?"

All your friends groaned at the thought of going outside.

You picked up your car keys and made your way to the door. "Call me if you want me to pick up anything while I'm out then." You walked out to your car, shielding your eyes from the Sun. You got inside, the hot air almost choking you and the leather of the seats biting your thighs. When you turned the key the car roared to life, air blasting out the vents, and you put in the directions to the nearby grocery store.

Driving around the neighborhood, you notice there is a long line that goes around the block. Men and women, mostly younger women, in their cars gawking at something further up the road from you.

Driving past the line, you see a group of boys washing cars outside of a large house. All of them are dressed in denim with white shirts, playing, laughing, and talking with anyone close. One of them had a crop top and a blue helmet with blue roller skates, he waved at you as you passed. His wave was friendly but it felt like an invitation that felt like he meant, "Why don't you come a little closer?"

You only caught a glimpse of him but once you did he was stuck in your head...

After what felt like ages, you finally get to the grocery store. Thankfully it wasn't as packed as it usually would be on a weekday afternoon but clearly, there were people busy with other errands in town... You ran through the store, picking up the food for dinner your parents asked you to get. That's when you hear a cashier at the front, "Excuse me, sir! Could you not get water on the floors, please? And take off your skates?"

The image of the guy from the car wash flashed in your mind. In excited wonder, you move to catch another look. You hide in another aisle, pretending to look at the ingredients on something in front of you as you move a little closer to the front door. Then you see him again.

His helmet is off this time revealing curly dark brown hair and his skin as a soft tan, which was darker in some places from being outside. He was wringing out his shirt near the entrance, the fabric still sticking to his body and showing his toned torso and abs.

You snapped a quick picture and sent it to your friends, "someone! Tell me who this is??" You turned your attention back to the man while waiting for a response.

He scratched his head, looking a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry about that! We ran out of soaps for the car wash, and the others made me go get more. Can I leave my skates here and I go inside?"

The cashier, who somehow had enough strength to look respectfully at him, shook her head. "I'm sorry sit, I can't let you walk around barefoot either. And I don't think it's a good idea to leave your skates here, if someone were to take them, we're not liable to keep up with them for you."

The man hung his head. "Okay, I understand. I'll try and see if my bros can come bring me shoes." He put his hands in his pockets and then groaned. "I... actually let my phone back at the carwash–I didn't want it to get wet."

Something in you clicked and you were suddenly moving closer and opening your mouth. "You can borrow my phone, to call your friends."

He licked his lips, and the big pink lips disappeared under his tongue before resurfacing and forming a smile. "Thanks!" He took the phone from you, and as soon as he did he laughed. "I think your friends want to tell you something."

You looked over at your phone to see what he meant. Your group chat was exploding at the picture you'd sent. Your friends had a mixture of telling you to go for it, saying what they'd do to him, or asking if he has any friends for them. You felt warm in your face knowing that meant he'd seen your message too.

"I'm Sunwoo by the way," he put his hand out to you for a handshake.

You took his hand, it was a little cold from the water but the warmth from your hand warmed his. It was a slightly damp and awkward handshake, but to you it was perfection. "I'm y/n. And I'll delete the picture..."

Sunwoo smiled again. "You can keep the picture, I don't mind."

You blushed more. "You still want to call your friends?"

He shook his head. "I think you can help me instead, I need a jug of car cleaner and some popsicles, could you go get them for me?"

Trying to keep your cool, you shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. I have some time."

The cashier seemed to be okay with that arrangement as Sunwoo sat outside the store and you went to buy his items. After purchasing everything, you went outside to find Sunwoo relaxing on a bench with some girls taking pictures of him. They weren't even trying to hide it... You stood in front of Sunwoo, blocking their view, and shook him awake.

"I have your things, you can go now."

Sunwoo yawned as he sat up and stretched, his crop top coming up even higher on his torso. "That was quick! I don't have any money on me, but let me pay you back at least."

"How are you going to do that without any money?"

Sunwoo pretended to think about it. "How about a special free car wash from yours truly?"

Your skin flushed at the thought of Sunwoo covered in suds, pressing his body up against your car while you watched from the driver's seat.

"B-But I don't think I want to wait in that line. I saw it looped around the block..."

He shook his head. "No worries! You get a special pass to skip the line, just for you." He winked at you when he finished his sentence.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to look like a hungry dog. "Sure, I meant to get it washed anyway."

"That's great, it works out! So... second favor to ask–could you drive me back to the frat house?" Sunwoo let his eyes get big and leaned close to you, begging for your help.

"Yeah, I can do that. My car is right over there."

Sunwoo got closer to you as he stood, you could smell the soap in his hair. "Then let me help you with these," he said as he slipped the bags of groceries out of your hands and started walking to your car.

You followed closely behind, looking at the girls who watched him flirt with you. They mostly just looked jealous, one even had the nerve to scoff, but it made you feel fuzzy thinking they were jealous of you interacting with him. The car was still hot when you opened the door and unlocked the trunk. Sunwoo putting your groceries in and climbing into the truck too.

"What are you doing back there!?" You looked at him in the rearview mirror.

"I didn't want to get your seats wet, so I thought I'd sit back here. Unless you want me up there?"

"Well, I don't want to feel like an Uber! Get up here. Sunwoo chuckled as he climbed over the back seats and towards the front. You turned to stop him, "Not like that!"

Sunwoo was already near your face when you turned. "Sorry, didn't mean to make you mad." Sunwoo slowly pulled away and climbed out the back doors to walk around to the front doors. He sat next to you, somehow his hair still had water in it because you could see his curls dripping when he moved.

You drove Sunwoo back to the frat house, some of the boys shouted at Sunwoo when they saw him step out of your car. There were ten other boys out there, most of them half-dressed with no shirts and shorts on.

"Oh!? Sunwoo brought another personal customer!" One called out.

"Sunwoo~! This gonna be one of those customers?" Another called out.

Sunwoo swatted at them as he ran over with the soap and popsicles. The boys attacked the snacks while an older man filled the buckets up with more soap. The boys pulled him close and all crowded him, talking to him and cheering and laughing. One pat him on the back before Sunwoo ran over to your car with a popsicle and handed it to you.

"So you don't get too hot while I work, ya know?"

You nodded silently, waiting for him to get started.

Sunwoo laced up his skates and put on his helmet. The boys put on loud music and went back to work now that they had more soap again, but Sunwoo only worked on your car without any help from the others. He started by pouring buckets of water all over the car, gliding around with his skates. Then used the soap and sponged it to the car, suds and bubbles flew everywhere and stuck to the car and Sunwoo while he worked. Anytime he was close to your window or your eyes met, he'd wink at you. And when he wasn't looking at you, his body was pressing against the sides of the car, his toned and tanned body visible through the windows. Then Sunwoo picked up a power washer in one hand and turned it on, but no water came out. He shook it a few times before putting it up to his face. Then water shot out and soaked him, the other boys howling with laughter as they teased him. He sprayed the car and himself to wash the bubbles off, he was dripping from head to toe...

You were stuck watching for so long that you didn't realize you'd let the popsicle melt completely. When Sunwoo started drying the car, he moved to your window and motioned you to roll it down.

You rolled the window down. "Yeah?"

"Enjoying the carwash?" Sunwoo smirked.

You nodded. "Yeah, it's quite a show..." You drank the juice of the melted popsicle to keep you from saying something lame.

Sunwoo leaned more into the window, water and some soap dripping inside. "Can I try some?" His eyes motioned to the popsicle in your mouth. You handed it you him, but instead, he leaned past it and toward you. "Can I try some?" He said again, this time his voice was huskier and his attention was on your lips.

You just nodded.

He leaned closer, placing his hand on your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. He licked at your lips, asking to be let in, and when you did he drank the liquid right out of your mouth. Tasting the flavors of your mouth and the popsicle.

He pulled away from you. "That's pretty good... Maybe, I can have more?"

You wiped your mouth. "I'm down if you are..."

Sunwoo opened the door. You turned toward him and drank the rest of the melted popsicle, holding it in your mouth, before kissing him again and feeding it to him.

He gets more passionate this time, letting his hands roam slowly past your neck. One passing down your back and pulling you by your waist into him. You let your arms wrap around his neck as he lifted you out of the car and pinned you to the side of it. He let you move around and get comfortable, all while keeping this kiss connected. He only backed down when you needed to breathe, but would dive right back in when you let him.

"Is this something we can do more often, beautiful?" Sunwoo whispered in your ear.

You softly moaned in his ear, giving him approval for his request.

He chuckled, his vibrations passing onto you. "Then, can I make you mine?"

You giggle. "Go ahead then."

Sunwoo kissed down your chin and onto your neck, just above your collarbone. Biting around until he feels your breath hitch at one spot. He focuses there, biting and sucking on it until his mark is left there.

He looks at you with a devious smile and you look back at him, blissed out of your mind.

"Sunwoo! Stop tongue-fucking your new squeeze and get back to work!" One of the guys from earlier shouted.

Sunwoo shot back an annoyed look before he turned back to you with a relaxed and soft expression. "I'm sorry, I gotta go. Can I see you again, maybe sometime like tomorrow?" He looked more awkward now that someone had messed up his flow.

You laugh at the face he is making. "Yes, let's do this again sometime... I can try and make time tomorrow. Can I find you here?"

He kissed you again. "You most definitely will, and then I'm all yours. All night, if you want it that way, baby."

#the boyz #sunwoo #sunwoo fic #the boyz x reader #sunwoo x reader #the boyz sunwoo #x reader #gender neutral reader #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagines #oracle of dreams

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months

Text

Yandere Neighbor Wars: Less Than Safe

Tomura Shigaraki 🎮✋🏻 vs Dabi 🪡🔥

🎮✋🏻🪡🔥You knew your neighborhood wasn’t the safest 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥If the hole-y walls and cheap rent weren’t enough to prove that 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥The raucous sounds of criminal activities would do the trick 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥And while this wasn’t the neighborhood to confront your neighbors for anything 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥You seemed to have an odd tendency for this to happen 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥“Hey gorgeous you come here often?” 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥“I live here…obviously.” 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥“Doubt it. There’s no way a goody-two-shoes actually lives here.” 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥“Oh? Then it wasn’t this goody-two-shoes' wall you shot 4 stray bullets into?” 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥You’re lackadaisical neighbor covered in tattoos, piercings, and stitches: Dabi 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥Who doesn’t care all that much for your safety until he puts two and two together 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥Suddenly he’s smoking a blunt on your shared block 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥Or outside your workplace 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥“What’sa matter babe, I’m just here ta protect ya don’t mind me.” 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥Your other neighbor isn’t so forward 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥“Uhm I think they gave me, your package.” 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥“Ugh of course those morons would do that! I’m going to kill that—Whoa!” 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥“...Uh sir…hello?” 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥“....Yeah…” 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥After your meeting you find yourself plugging in more of these mysterious holes 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥And having to deliver more packages that are delivered to you 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥Even the ones that possibly contain human remains+ 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥“Yeah this is definitely going to keep happening so just let yourself in, it's easier to acclimatize you that way.” 🎮✋🏻🪡🔥Though it seems your neighbors already butt their heads quite a lot it gets even worse when they both seem keen on changing your situation:

“Where is this breeze even—Dabi!? What the heck, man!? What’d I say about breaking in through the window?” You dropped your coat and work uniform to dash across the little space to close the window, passing by the intruder who was much more interested in penning a new name onto his ankle. You didn’t wait for a response, continuing to talk as you did your usual perimeter check.

“You’re practically making my place open season for all the weirdos with an open window like that!”

Dabi scoffed, “Babe, your open season because you’re you. I’m in fact holding down the fort.”

You shook your head putting your dropped things back in place.

“Riiight. And it doesn’t have anything to do with eating my food?”

The man put a scarred hand to his chest feigning pain as his familiar smirk spread across his face.

“Aww babe, you think so low of me?”

“I think low is an understatement. They think you’re dirt.”

The blunt and gravelly voice of Tomura Shigaraki rang throughout the bedroom growing louder as he shuffled into the living room, a portable game in hand. You did a double take as you were sure you walked in there but you shrugged letting him make himself at home. After all, this was normal for you to be the host to your no doubt criminal neighbors.

“That’s awfully bold of you, packrat. (Y/n) loves me don’t you babe?”

“Don’t call them that and don’t let everyone know how delusional you really are. (Y/n) attracts enough creeps already.”

“Well King Incel,” “I’m not a–” “Yes you are, and I’m the least of their problems. In fact, I’ll be their precious hero, ain’t that right baby?”

You chuckled while shaking your head before beginning to close your bedroom door. Sticking your head out when they got up to follow you.

“Ah ah I’m taking a shower and no this isn’t a group activity! If you come in I’ll stab you, got it?”

“...”

“Got. It?”

“Fine, fine.” “Maybe next time sugar.”

With the slam of the door and a click of your lock, a tense silence fell over the room. The only sound was the cries and screams and the sound of bullets from Tomura’s game system. When the sounds abruptly stopped Tomura was the one who spoke.

“Their hero, huh? You’ve got plans or something?”

Dabi sucked his teeth, dubiously grinning at Tomura’s glaring pair of eyes.

“I thought you were a gamer no? Aren’t you supposed to wait for my big reveal?”

Tomura growled, clutching the game in his hands.

“Forget that. You’re going to do something stupid and everyone knows you don’t leave the dumb to their devices. So what’s your plan.”

“...”

At Dabi’s silence, Tomura felt a surge of anger slamming his game into a nearby coffee table. He gritted his teeth and banged his fist.

“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM!? I’ll figure it out eventually so you might as well tell me!”

Dabi groaned, he would have laughed had it been anyone else but he wasn’t so stupid to poke the bear cub.

“(Y/n) and I are going to get out of here. This crap apartment isn’t good enough for them and they're way too lax. I’m just taking care of them so don’t get your panties in a twist.”

For some reason that didn’t seem to soothe Tomura who stood to his feet with closed fists. Angrily shaking them as he visibly scowled at Dabi.

“Y-you stole my idea!”

“Your idea? Please in the real world, kid, it’s called being smart.”

“No it’s called being a scheming b-”

Your bedroom door swings open as you make your way into the kitchen. All it takes is a curious tilt of your head in Tomura’s direction that has him sitting back down and begrudgingly returning to his game. You simply shrugged passing by a smirking Dabi as you made your way to the kitchen.

“So boys what’s for dinner?”

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