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balancethescales · 10 months

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thinking about the specific moments where the berzatto family falls in love with sydney (because of course they do, everyone does).

for richie, it takes the end of the beef and right up till the opening of the bear to happen. he is full of contempt and grief when he meets her and all he knows is that when he looks at her face he is afraid. he doesn’t like that feeling. richie is not a man who finds himself fearful a lot, but she is everything he is not and nothing that he is and he hates himself for it. if she is what it means to be passionate, then what is he? is he nothing but an empty shell of mikey, stuck on earth to shake his fist at passing clouds, because how dare they move and continue on like mikey was nothing to them, as if he wasn’t the very point that the earth revolved around? everyone is leaving him behind, and she is proudly leading the pack. it’s not right. but then— he gets it. he talks to garrett and jess and chef terry and he sees sydney in every corner of that restaurant. the fear slowly is replaced with respect as the week goes on and he realizes that just because she’s good doesn’t mean she’s out to get him. that’s the berzatto upbringing in him doing the talking, but it doesn’t have to, because shes a berzatto now, maybe not officially (not yet, but mark his words, she will be) but she is, and that’s not how she does things. so, he lets her lead them into the future to something good and different and better.

for sugar, it’s instant. she was born to a mother who is triggered by her very existence, and it has hurt her all her life. she is full of love and the one person she wants to give it to the most doesn’t want any part of it. she was born to give but is surrounded by those who are afraid to even take it, to reach out their hand and meet her in the middle. and if they cant take then they themselves have nothing to give, so she gets used to being the one who has to force feed her love down their throats, because if no one does, if no one shows them that they are worthy of good things, then they will crumble (“if i just talked to him more—” “no, nat—” “if i had just—” “it’s not your fault, honey. it’s never been.”). but when she meets sydney, it’s like looking into a mirror. she sees her bright eyes and soft smiles and careful but strong hands and instantly recognizes her for what she is: a giver. and sugars heart swells with even more love than she thought possible, because finally, she’s not alone— there is someone else there to slowly, albeit subconsciously, take care of her crumbling family, to show them that despite what their mother may have taught them, its okay to not be okay (she tries her best not to cry when syd asks her if shes okay, but she does. and syd doesnt grab her face or yell at her or call her stupid. she makes her a meal. and sugar cries some more).

for cicero, the love isn’t instant, and it’s not even entirely love. she is strong and she is assertive, but that also makes her naive and a very expensive risk. she makes him curious for what’s to come, intrigued by the way she doesn’t back down from carmy whose voice so often mimics the berzattos that came before him (“you’re better than this, kid.” “i don’t know what i am.” “whatever it is, it’s not this.”). she's self assured and knows her place in the establishment and is unafraid to let people know it. it’s a refreshing change of pace from mikey, who often resorted to intimidation to get his way, or carmy, who’s anxiety envelopes him and distracts him from what’s right there in front of him. but she is not them. she is focused and on track and is willing to put in the work to get what she wants. he doesn’t visit the bear often, only drops by once in a while to deliver bad news or to fulfill a favour or to just enjoy some good food, but when he does, she is always there, dedicated to ensuring that carmy and michaels, and now, her dream stays alive. she is good for his family, and he trusts her to keep the berzatto spirit alive.

for michelle, it’s quite simple. she always looked out for carmy, their little bear, so when she meets her it’s a family thanksgiving party at the bear and syd stumbles out of the kitchen, obviously frazzled and a little sweaty (“carmy, im not ready, i didn’t even change yet and the turk—” “don’t worry, tina will take care of it, you look great, they’ll love you, they just really wanted to meet you—”), but she’s smiling. she’s a little awkward when she introduces herself, and michelle finds herself endeared by her nervous ramble (“it’s, uh, really nice to meet you guys. sorry, i didn’t know that i was going to be pulled out of the kitchen so soon. uh, im sydney. yeah, i guess carmy already told you guys, huh? um. im sorry, how are you related to the family again? i mean, i dont want to offend but it’s just. uh. well, you guys are just very... normal?”) and she’ll laugh and look at stanley and the two of them will think to themselves, good job carmy, she’s a good one, before telling syd something dumb and nonsensical about a genetic mutation and richie interrupts to tell michelle it’s not a genetic mutation it’s called being boring and syd will laugh and michelle will too, truly happy that their little bear found someone normal, a breath of fresh air within the smoke of their family.

for donna, it’s weird. it’s tense. they don’t meet for a long time. they don’t meet at the bear when it first opens and not at the bear even when it has found it’s footing, but by chance. they are somewhere mundane (a grocery store, a park, or maybe just the street) and there is no other family member around when syd meets the berzatto matriarch. she only knows what donna looks like from photos at sugars house because carmys apartment is devoid of any actual sentiment (although that has begun to change since she made him get an actual dresser and he dedicated one of the drawers to her stuff). she calls out to her by her name, and donna turns around startled. she doesn’t recognize syd, of course, who introduces herself and informs her of who she is to the family. when donna smiles it’s not a real one, and syd knows this, but it doesn’t deter her. she tells donna that her kids love her (“even after everything, nat?” “she’s our mother. its all that we can do.”) and that her kids are great (“carmy, you are not broken.” “im a little broken.” “no, listen to me, the fact that you are still here, means something. its something.”) and that there will always be a table for her at the bear (“chef, someones calling in for a reso for 1 but we’re all full up… except for—“ “yo, dont finish that sentence. table 7 for ms. berzatto is an indefinite booking. is that understood?” “yes, chef”). donnas smile fades and her chest fills with anger but just as she’s about to explode in typical berzatto fashion syd interrupts her. she has faced the bear many a time before and has handled herself with grace and dignity everytime, so this is no different. she smiles brightly and thanks donna for listening to her and hopes she considers coming in, because she’d really like to cook for her. she looks like she needs a good meal. she deserves one. she turns and walks away. donnas stomach growls. that night, table 7 is occupied for the first time since the bear opened its doors.

and carmy? well, there isn’t an exact moment. its a culmination of awkward partnership (“i don’t want to be shitty.” “okay, then dont be.”) and flawless teamwork (“the menu needs—” “already on it, chef.”) and nights unwinding at the bar down the street (“of course you drink an old fashioned.” “what’s that supposed to mean?” “nothing, it’s just very… tortured-chef-from-the-slums-of-chicago of you”) and spontaneous phone calls just to hear the others voice (“why are you whispering?” “i… don’t know. my dads home. its a habit.” “you’re 27.” “and you’re white, you wouldn’t get it.”) till they’re just inseparable (“cousin, wheres carmy?” “with syd, duh.” “why'd i even ask?”). and then, sydney and carmen become something else. something tender and sweet and terrifying and beautiful all mixed together into… something. there’s no word for what they have. but it feels so right; to the guests who taste their food and recognize that the hands who put it together are full of love and care; to the staff at the bear who see the unspoken communication, the lingering touches, and their soft eyes that seem to always be on the other; to the berzatto family who notice that carmy looks a little brighter, and shakes a little less. yes, its love, but its so much more. it’s syd and carmy. it always has been, and always will be.

(“can i ask you something? something corny and lame and gross?” “always.” “when did you, like, know?” “know what?” “like, when did you know that you loved me? like, not as a chef or a friend, but as... y'know.” “that’s very middle school of you to ask.” “shut up, i did warn you.” “…” “so?” “its, uh, i don’t, i don’t know.” “well, that’s rude.” “no, i mean, i can’t say its one moment because... it was all of them. together. like, one moment you’re staging and then everything happened and, and, keeps happening but the next thing i knew you were there and you always were there and i just knew that i never wanted you to not be there.” “that’s…. really, really, disgusting, and frankly, a little unprofessional.” “oh, fuck off.” “no, like, i knew you were obsessed with me, but wow, that is a whole new other level.” “fuck you, get off of me, don’t touch me.” “no no no, please—” “i let you into my family—” “let me?” “into my restaurant—” “i think you mean OUR restaurant—” “only for you to humiliate me in my own bed? how dare you.” “…are you sulking?” “…” “…carmy?” “syd?” “me too.” “…heard, chef. now come back here.”)

(and it’s unspoken, but everyone knows that michael would’ve loved her too. i mean, she’s sydney fucking adamu, she conquered the bear. how could anyone not love her?)

#this is just a love letter to sydney adamu #because she is everything right with the world #she’s got that dawg (re: bear) in her #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #sydney adamu #ayo edibiri #carmen berzatto #jeremy allen white #richie jerimovich #natalie berzatto #cicero the bear #cousin michelle the bear #donna berzatto #michael berzatto #sydcarmy #sydney x carmy #carmy x sydney

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heyhiwhatsupdude · 4 months

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Here’s a dumb thing I wrote enjoy. Astarion x Reader :3

(You were in a particular rough battle, one that ended in Withers needing to resurrect you, and Astarion is not happy)

His eyes are dark as life jolts back into your body. No longer are you in the cave in the Underdark where your life was torn from you, but lying in Astarion’s arms in a camp amidst glowing mushrooms. Crowded around you are your other companions, a mix of worry and relief hanging in their expressions. As you try to sit up, Astarion gently guides you.

“Are you alright, love?” He asks softly. You nod and start to stand up, stretching your recently replaced soul throughout all of your limbs, trying to make it fit back where it once had. Karlach extends a hand and helps you to your feet.

“Thought we lost you there, soldier,” she says, a weak laugh creeping out behind her words. “Fortunately for you this guy is better than us at healing.” She gestures over her shoulder at Withers, who seems rather uninterested in the whole ordeal. He nods slightly, and then continues to stare blankly ahead of him.

“Thanks, guys,” you say. You reach your hand up the back of your neck where in theory a gaping wound should still stand, but there isn’t so much as a scar. The sword that should have ended your life for good didn’t even leave a mark.

Astarion rises to his feet next to you, eyes still dark with something you can’t distinguish. Suddenly all of your other companions have somewhere else to be, quickly and awkwardly slipping away to their tents as Astarion stares you down, eyes taking in your every movement. Rather than ask him his thoughts, you silently begin to walk away from the camp, towards an area where your conversation will not be so easily overheard. After a moment you hear his footsteps follow you.

“What were you thinking?!?” His voice comes out in a hiss, anger seeping into his words. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

You turn to glance at Astarion. “It wasn’t stupid in the moment. I didn’t think he would be so fast.” Astarion tilts his chin up.

“But WHY did you have to do that? I was perfectly fine to handle myself!”

“Are you angry with me for trying to protect you?” Despite the haze of being resurrected, you still remember seeing the rush of a sword toward Astarion, and feeling your body move on its own. Though he may have been able to evade it, the blade meeting it’s mark on Astarion would have meant his certain doom as well.

“Yes. I am.” Astarion takes a step closer to you. “I would have been fine.”

You shake your head. “You don’t know that. It might have ended up like this anyway, someone being resurrected.”

“Something that we didn’t even know would work until just now. And might never work again!” He adds the second sentiment on hastily, pointing a finger at you.

“But it did work, and I’m fine now.”

Suddenly he can no longer contain himself.

“You didn’t have to watch you die!” Astarion shouts, his voice breaking. “You didn’t have to watch all of your blood rush from your neck, the life slip from your eyes. You didn’t have to watch as the only person who you have ever cared about crumple to the ground. And it was MY fault.” Tears spring from his eyes. “I thought I lost you forever, love. Hells, you DIED.”

Tears pour freely down his face, his voice catching in his throat. Tears well in your own eyes as well, knowing the hurt you have caused him, knowing you would have reacted the same had the situation been flipped, still further knowing that you did not regret your decision one bit.

“I would do it again, Astarion. For you.” He grabs your face in his hands, thumbs forcing your chin to tilt up, forcing your gaze to his.

“Don’t. Please, for my sake, don’t. I don’t care if you’re fine in the end. I cannot….. I cannot…” he buries his face in your neck as a sob cuts off his words. You wrap your arms around him gently. After a moment he regains his composure and whispers,

“I cannot bear to see you die again. Please. Don’t make me watch my worst nightmare a second time.” He pulls back, making sure you meet his gaze once again. “Please.”

“Okay,” you whisper. Astarion brushes his thumb across your lips before gently bringing them to his.

“Thank you, darling.”

You spend the rest of the night wrapped tightly in his embrace, his fingers tracing the back of your magically unscarred neck as though afraid your wound may reopen and steal you from him once again.

#astarion bg3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3

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pigeonpeach · 4 months

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Mother and Father moments.

Aka more mommy reader x Arlecchino! This time with comfort!

Perhaps you sometimes forget your husband is a harbinger. She’s just so kind to the chikdren at times. Your presence has helped her become more patient and gentle with them. You had been with her for awhile now. Lynette and Lyney had grown up into full on adults, going on missions leaving you to worry. But they came back each time. As your original set of kids grew so did the dangers. You knew they were raised for this yet your heart still hurts at the thought. Unfortunately some didn’t make it. Some may think its hard to care for so many children emotionally but it didn’t matter to you, you felt hurt when they were. Each and every one of them you raised and cared for became your child in their eyes. Lucky your husband despite not being the most emotional vulnerable still let you cry over each. Her gentle whispers reassuring that it was not your fault.

She knows your heart, she knows its that empathy and vulnerability that strengthens your bond with the children, sometimes she envies that. But she still tries to make up for it to the best she can.

So when The twins and Freminet were imprisoned you became worrisome. She with held that it was for a mission because she knew you would demand to join them. Still she held you.

“Could I send tea bags to Lynette? Letters? Oh god poor Freminet he always loves diving! He can’t dive anywhere!” You paced as you were planning a gift to be sent. She watched you with a smile.

“I assure you they will be fine. They’re barely serving a few months for a petty crime that likely won’t end up on their record. They have each other afterall. You know Lyney, he will not let any of them get hurt.” She said calmly,

“Still he’s my boy and I worry about him!” You say panicked.

“And the prophecy! Oh god they’re so far down underwater they wouldn’t have a way out!” You paced even more as her smile faded.

“My love,” she held you in her arms making you still, “I assure you, everything will be okay. They’ll be back when their sentence is over, and they’ll have all sorts of stories to tell. Freminet can handle himself, and Lyney is a good protector of the two. They will be fine. As for the prophecy, I have my own methods ready.” She said kissing the back of your neck. You sighed as you finally calmed down.

“You’re right. I need to relax..” you say melting into her touch. “I just… oh I can’t help it. Lyney was the first to call me mom.” Arlecchino smiled as you looked at one of the baby pictures of the twins.

“You’re always their mother. With you waiting here I’m sure they’ll strive to make it back.” She says calmly.

“They better.” You huff. “That Wriothesley better be kind to my kids otherwise-“

“Relax dear. Don’t think anymore about the impossible. Besides, I’m sure they’ll be treated as any other prisoner is. Afterall, Fontaine is currently under alot of pressure, I’m sure he wouldn’t be confident enough to pull a stunt like that.” She says. “And if he did, then I’ll handle it.” You sigh in relief as she holds you closer to herself.

“You’re right I know I know.”

“If you would like you can send them a letter. Of course you can’t send any gifts but you’re more than welcome to wri-“ Arlecchino stopped as she watched you pick up a pen and looked for a piece of paper. “Here.” She handed you a piece. Quickly you started to write down your thoughts as she smiled behind you. “You should slow down. They might not be able to read your writing otherwise.”

“You’re sure i can’t send gifts? Not even a blanket? Oh Lynette hates being cold! That place must be so cold too, so far down under the sea.. oh my poor baby.” You moped.

“I’m certain there’s accomdations for such. I doubt they’d let their staff down their freeze. Besides I hear it can actually get too hot down there.”

“But what about Freminet then! He isn’t good handling intense heat. He burnt his hand on the kettle once and he’s never trusted them since. He always uses a oven mitt or glove even when its not necessary.” Your fingers tapped worriedly.

“Darling please try to not assume the worst. Our children are not hostages right now. They simply are being disciplined for a small amount of time. Their sentences are only two or so months.” She repeated trying to soothe you. You pouted even more.

“Still I’ll miss them. I even bought a new dessert book to try and make some for Lynette. She always comes by to visit when I even imply there’s new desserts. She’s become my little taste tester.” You smile. “She doesn’t smile but her tail wags impatiently when she sees me preparing a new sweet.”

“You know them so well.” She smiles and brushes your hair, helping to alleviate some tension held within your shoulders. “I’m sure they miss you too. You know they wouldn’t want you to worry so much about them.”

“I’m aware. Still I love them all so much.. it hurts that I cannot protect them all from everything in life.” You lift your head to look at her as her arm rests on your waist.

“I know my dear. Its why you’re the finest choice for me.” She kisses you. “Now just relax and I’ll write the letter for you.”

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #domestic fluff #comfort #slight death but not of named characters #arlecchino is so hot please step on me #arlecchino x y/n #alrecchino #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x reader #pls come home now arlecchino #arlechinno genshin #wlw x reader

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s-4pphics · 9 months

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let the rain sing. 4 (a.a)

wc;cw: 7k, dadsbestfriend!abby, lawstudent!oc, large age gap(oc is 25, abby is mid 40s), abby is bi<3, slight angst yall know the deal, brief mentions of familial death, cigarettes, nasty sloppy sex MDNI, dubcon(they sipped a little), couch action :p, eating out no taco bell(pussy and ass), tribbing, meantop!abby, strength kink, lots of dirty talk, breeding kink😳😳, mult. orgasms, BREEDING STRAP(idk how they work im sowwie if it’s not accurate :/), slight d!p, body fluids(spit, fake and real cum LOL), UNPREPPED ANAL PLS DONT DO THIS, dumbification, degradation kink, pain kink it’s me duh, hair pulling, slapping, slight mirror sex??

The holiday season passed, and you were standing on Abby’s porch with your tail between your legs and exhaustion weighing you down.

You’ve never been… nervous to see Abby. Whenever you arrived at her home, you were eager and desperate to be in her presence so she could take care of you, but now you were nauseas at the thought of using her that way. And it was all your fault.

You haven’t spoken to her since the Christmas party. You didn’t know what to say. How do you approach somebody that you think hates you after an encounter like that? She went from rightfully kicking you out of her home to rubbing your pussy through your pants without care. In front of your entire family despite your mutual rules, and you didn’t even care enough to stop her. It almost felt like you switched places for the night: she was impulsive and irresponsible, and you allowed her to be, just like how she used to when she handled your demanding attitude. You wished she touched you more before she respectfully departed your parents’ home.

You wanted to speak with Abby properly. You never thought you would be willing to sacrifice your kryptonite once you found it, but she didn’t deserve to be dragged along and solve your problems anymore. Your heart still hurts at the thought of making her cry and leaving her to it. You’re such an idiot.

You called her before you showed up, but she didn’t answer. You don’t blame her for being distant, but she deserves an in-person explanation as to why you should never see her again. You’re a trainwreck and you need to deal with that alone, no matter how exhausting the journey would be.

The sun was setting when you finally exited your car knocked on her door, looking down at your scuffed boots that dug into the melting ice on her porch. You wanted to check to see if her key was still in the same spot under her rug, but you refrained. Your heart filled when you noticed her unique little Christmas decorations still dangling from her door and windows. She loved her flowers, for sure.

When the door yanked open, your heart dropped, and your stomach did somersaults.

Abby was dolled up in a red dress under a black trench coat with matching red nails and shoes, sparkling jewelry, and her hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail that cascaded down the back of her neck. She looked fucking gorgeous, and your throat went dry. She leaned against the frame as she eyed you, shock evident on her face.

Don’t fold, don’t fold, don’t fold!

You watched her surprise swiftly shift into confusion and… aggravation? Your heart sunk further into the floor, but you held her gaze.

“What’re you doing here?”

Her voice made your heart squeeze painfully; You missed it terribly, regardless of how stiff she sounded.

You took a shuddering breath, “… Hi, Abby.”

She ignored your greeting, “What are you doing here?” She sounded like she was in a rush, and you wanted to cry.

You swallowed harshly, “I-I know you’re probably busy, but I’m— “

“Look, I can’t deal with this right now. I have somewhere to be,” she quietly huffed with agitation like someone would hear, adjusting the shining watch on her wrist to check the time. You could feel her pulling away.

It felt like every cell in your body was dying, your brain fighting on its last legs to conjure up a reply to get her to stay and speak with you. You would’ve dropped down to your knees if it wasn’t freezing. Is this how she felt whenever you would shut her down to fuck? Nausea came in waves.

“I don’t,” you weren’t shaking from the cold. “I don’t wanna do anything. I just wanna… apologize.”

She rolled her eyes at you, “Keep it. Are you done? I gotta leave soon.”

You were motionless, your hands squeezed into fists in your coat pockets as tears jerked in your eyes and lips quivered. Don’t fucking cry!

Your brain didn’t fight hard enough because she shook her head when you didn’t comment, reaching for the door to slam it in your face. It forced you into action, shoving your arm between the open space to stop the wood from shutting completely. You couldn’t control the panic you felt at the thought of her hating you. You don’t remember the last time you cried like this.

“A-Abby, please, I’m so sorry, I can’t,” your heaving picked up as you sobbed to her. “I can’t stop thinking a—bout you and I feel awful and I know you hate me, and you s-should but’m so sorr—y. Please, I can’t— “

Abby seemed unsure through your watery gaze, the tensity in her face dropping slowly as she gauged you. You felt her wrap a light hand around your bicep as you broke down, ushering you inside with soft shushes.

You listened and followed her guide to the couch, taking a seat as you cried out your apologies to her. Your wails overpowered the volume of her coos; She was too fucking nice.

She stood over your sitting form, her soft, rose-scented hands holding your chin as she massaged the back of your pounding head. “Shhh, stop crying, stop.”

Your eyes met hers, and your heart burned, “M’sorry— “

She sighed, “We’re gonna… we’re gonna talk, okay?”

You nodded, sniffing harshly. You didn’t deserve her hospitality, and you felt guilty accepting her courtesy. Had you really been so heartless to such a gentle soul?

She hummed, “Want some water?”

You didn’t answer.

She took your silence as approval and made her way to the kitchen.

You calmed down. Slightly. Abby was able to remove your coat and boots without fuss; You were too busy blowing your nose with the soft tissues she handed to you.

Abby sat next to you on the couch, earrings, coat, and heels removed and slung on the floor near the coffee table. She allowed you to take some sips of your water before she spoke, voice as soft as ever.

“Okay to talk?”

You nodded, setting your glass down on the decorative table and using your sleeves to wipe your still wet face.

You took a deep breath. A few deep breaths, and she let you.

But when you finally opened your mouth to speak, her phone rang.

Both your eyes darted towards the coffee table; a contact named DON’T ANSWER read across the screen. Your brows furrowed in confusion, eyes gliding between her and her device. You’ve never seen Abby have a negative reaction towards anyone except you; Who did she not want to answer?

She sighed heavily, reaching towards her phone to mute the ringing. A few moments of silence passed, and the call ended, but the caller popped up again.

She tsked, reaching for her device with agitation. She answered it, annoyance evident in her tone.

“I'm not coming. Stop calling me.”

Your ears perked with intrigue. Was she meant to meet with someone tonight? She sounded so upset.

Some distant ramblings came through her earpiece before she shot back at the person she was speaking to, “I don’t care. It’s not up to you!”

The person got louder with her, the voice masculine. You saw Abby roll her eyes as she listened to the shouts. Why was she getting screamed at?

She spat nastily at the man before hanging up. “Fuck you. Don’t call me anymore tonight.”

She turned her phone off and tossed it onto the longue chair near the TV before turning back to you, the flame in her eyes slowly extinguishing.

“Sorry,” she breathed awkwardly, massaging her temples.

You shook your head, “Don’t apologize, I’m in your home. You can do what you want.”

She hummed at you, her expression suddenly distant. She wasn’t looking at you, but at the hand that rested on your knee. Why was that making your body hot?

“I really came at a bad time, huh?” You huffed.

“Mhm,” she answered before backtracking. “I hate talking to him.”

You spoke before you could think, “Who was it?”

“My ex.”

Your heart frosted over.

“H-Husband?”

She nodded slowly, like it brought her shame to admit. You don’t know why that made your stomach churn with something red. Something fiery that you never felt. How long were they still in contact? You knew they weren’t on good terms due to Abby’s past dismissal of your questions about their past, but now you were really confused about where they stood.

“D’you still talk to him?”

“You interrogating me?” You stiffened at her tone, darkly sarcastic. Fuck, stop fucking up!

You shook your head incessantly, “Not at all! Just… yeah, I don’t know why I asked that.”

“What an honest lawyer,” you saw her lips curl upward into a smirk, and you exhaled a sheepish laugh, your hands squeezing into fists on your lap. She’s fucking gorgeous.

“Not a lawyer yet.”

She bit playfully, “Gonna be soon.”

You made a noise in agreement before silence passed between you.

Abby’s voice made you look up. “We don’t see each other often, my ex and I. Not anymore at least.”

“… Oh. What were you guys going to do tonight?”

Abby shrugged, “Get drunk. Fuck probably.”

You probably looked calm on the outside, but you felt every organ in your body burn like fire at her admission. You were stiff, your nails digging into your palms as grounding. Why are you getting so fucking pissed over them communicating? The fuck?

You couldn’t help yourself, “How come?”

“It’s winter. We’re lonely and miss our daughter.”

You felt like you were dunked into a bottomless tub of ice water. Your brain went into overdrive and your throat closed like you were going to cry again.

She shook her head like nothing mattered, “Not the best coping mechanism, but.”

“A-Abby— “

She cut you off, tone hushed, “We shouldn’t meet anymore, but he just… gets it. Gets me and what I’m still going through. I don’t know if I’ll ever fully get rid of him no matter how much I hate his guts.”

You sat there and listened. This is the most personal conversation you’ve had with Abby since the first time you met. You finally met her eyes, waves of emotion flowing through them like ocean waves; You were here, and you wanted to listen to her. I’m sorry for shutting you down in the past. Please talk to me.

You placed an encouraging hand on her bare shoulder, and she sighed, her eyes fluttering shut as you squeezed. She was so tired; You recognized exhausted stiffness from anywhere.

“He’s the only… person I have, honestly. It’s really weird,” she huffed a laugh, rubbing her nose. “We had her alone, we raised her alone, I buried her without him, and now we just… drag each other along in our grief. She died such a long time ago and we’ve made no progress, but I can’t… I can’t leave him.”

You could hear the pain in her voice as she spoke, and it tore you to pieces. You can’t imagine what the two of them went through after such a grave loss; You knew it was your parents’ biggest fear. You had no idea how to talk her through this wave she was experiencing, but both your hands flew down to grab hers in her lap. You rubbed and squeezed them tight, hoping she would accept your presence again. You have me! I’m here, too. I'm sorry I wasn't before, but I am now.

She looked down at your locked fingers, shocked at the gesture. She released a shuddered breath and squeezed back, grabbing your hand like you would slip away.

She continued, her eyes glossy, “We always meet up around this time of year. For anything. For sex, to cry together. We could spend hours yelling and screaming at each other and then walk out of each other’s lives like nothing happened, just to do it all over again. I’m so… fucking tired.”

You shook your head in understanding. She needed comfort, some solace, a distraction just as much as you did, even if it’s only for a second. You wish you knew a better way to appease her emotional needs, but you didn’t. You didn’t know what to say, so you did what you should’ve done a long time ago.

She confided in you, and you listened to all of it.

Abby pulled out an expensive bottle of wine some time ago. You couldn’t stop smiling.

Abby’s laugh was music to your ears, “I can’t believe I fucking did that!”

You shook your head as you beamed at her, “You don’t know how shook I was! I thought I was hallucinating! I don’t know what my cousin put in that fucking blunt, but I was on my ass the rest of the night.”

You and Abby were facing each other, knees touching on the couch, in hysterics about the… events at the Christmas party. She tossed her expensive watch somewhere earlier, her posture content as she leaned back against the arm of her couch. You thought your first conversation after your argument would be much more unnerving, but you were both at ease and light. And a little tipsy.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been at her house, but you didn’t want to leave. You’re so glad you came to see her.

Her hands flew to cover her face, her face burning red, “I’m sorry. Aghh, I fuckin’ cringe. Jesus.”

You shrugged, “Great memories.”

She hummed in agreement, her head tilting as her eyes wandered all over your face. Your face warmed, “You look pretty with your hair up.”

She raised a brow at you, “Oh?”

“Um… yes,” you replied sheepishly.

“I think that’s the first compliment you’ve given me,” she joked, but that made your heart hurt.

“You’re really pretty, Abby,” you replied instantly, tone quiet as your heartbeat picked up. Her expression softened when she called out your name.

You shook your head, eyes dropping to your hands in your lap, “I'm really sorry for yelling at you.”

Her hand came up to lift your chin, “Hey. I’m not upset anymore. We’re gonna be fine, okay?”

You nodded, eyes flickering between her mouth and eyes. She whispered your name again, thumb caressing your face.

“Yes?”

She whispered, inching forward slightly, “… How much trouble would I get in for kissing you right now?”

Your tummy instantly swirled, and you grinned, “I dunno. A pretty good amount, I think.”

She moved closer, tongue rolling over her lips as she eyed your mouth.

Your breath shuddered, hand coming up to grab her wrist. You whispered as your face burned, “Kiss me?”

She snorted. Her nose brushed against yours, a smirk plastered on her face as she sniffed, “Yeah?”

Your core squeezed in approval. Abby released the hold she had on your face, strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You followed, straddling her lap, arms looping around her neck. You could see the skirt of her dress riding up from beneath you when she stretched her legs out. She smelled like roses and Barolo.

“Hi,” she whispered with a grin.

You smiled back at her, “Hi.”

Her lips brushed against yours, “Kiss me.”

You cheesed, mischievously pecking her cheek, and she stared at you blankly. You giggled and pinched her squishy cheeks.

“Kiss me for real,” she scolded lightly.

You snorted, poking the space where her dimples are, “Mmm, nah. changed my mind, actually.”

“Oh yeah? Don’t wanna kiss me?” Her voice lowered.

Goosebumps rose on your skin, but you shook your head at her anyway. Your defenses weakened when her grip tightened on your hips and head dropped, planting soft kisses down the expanse of your neck. You could feel her nails tickling the sensitive skin on your back as she softly caressed you. Your eyes went glossy.

She mumbled against your neck, “Missed you.”

Your heart fluttered. You breathed, “Really?”

“Mhm, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Doesn’t matter how much you get on my fucking nerves,” her hands slowly crawled up your waist.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

How does she speak her mind so easily?! “Miss—missed you too.”

“Missed me touching you like this?”

You nodded quickly, and her tongue swiped up the side of your neck. You breathed heavily in her ear, eager to touch her. You pulled back so you could see her face, friskiness dissipating when you connected your lips. She purred in your mouth, lips molding against yours as you grinded on top of her, her red lipstick transferring onto your mouth.

You grabbed her soft cheeks in your hands, gasping when her hands slid down to grab your ass through your jeans. Her tongue licked into your mouth, and your toes curled in your socks. You missed kissing her so badly.

She was kissing you stupid, tugging the hair at the back of your head as she sucked your bottom lip. You shakily brought your hands up to her ponytail to undo the elastic, and her locks fell down her back like liquid. Your arms wrapped around her neck to kiss her deeper, pulling tightly at her soft strands.

She moaned into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, “Need some head?”

You nails dug into her shoulders, “Y-You don’t have t— “

She rolled her eyes, “It’s not for you, it’s for me. I was just tryna be polite.”

Well.

“But I wan—“

Her hand came up to grab your chin. Fuck, you love when she does that. “Don’t care what you want actually. Lay down.”

You scurried off her like she was on fire, lying flat on the couch and ripping your sweater over your head, tossing it into the pile on the floor. Abby stood as you unbuttoned her jeans. You secretly watched as she unzipped her dress and allowed it to fall down her body. She was completely bare underneath. Your eyes followed the thin trail of hair that led down to her wet cunt, and it made you hot… in more ways than one; She was on a mission tonight, for sure.

You shoved your jealousy down; She didn’t owe you anything, especially loyalty. You stared down at your busy hands.

You kicked your jeans off, a sock clumsily catching in your pant leg before they hit the floor. You were not prepared for spontaneous sex at all; One lonesome weed sock, panties with chocolate bars on them, and a gray lounge bra.

You awkwardly scratched your ear and waited for Abby to move, but she didn’t. You looked up at her and noticed her just… staring at your torso. Her expression was unreadable as she took your body in, but you were about to die from her searing ogle. Your face was torched, even more so when she brought a gentle hand up, hooked her middle and index finger into the band of your bra.

Her eyes bore into yours, silently asking for permission, and you nodded. She bit her lip, slowly raising the elastic band up your chest until your breasts dropped out. She played with the two of them, dark red nails digging into the soft skin, pinching at your nipples. You couldn’t stop squirming, watching her hand move on your body. You lifted your bra over your head and laid the bundled fabric over the back of the couch.

“Turn over, baby. Wanna see something,” she barely whispered, patting your thigh encouragingly.

You listened, flipping onto your hands and knees as she climbed on the couch behind you. You sighed happily when she massaged your ass in both hands, rubbing and pulling at your covered cheeks. You peered over your shoulder to watch her pull your sticky panties to the side. She was eyeing your pussy like she wanted to swallow you whole before her eyes flickered an inch up. She was staring at…

Oh. Oh.

You jokingly snarked at her, “Find whatchu lookin’ for?”

Her eyes pierced through yours before she slapped the fuck out of your ass. Your body jerked forward at the force, eyes squeezing shut and groaning at the seering sting. Your head dropped on the arm of the couch.

She sneered at you, “I still feel some typa way. Be nice.”

You gasped out, “M’so— “

“You’re sorry,” She squealed out mockingly. “I know. Be still.”

She yanked your panties down your thighs, “Put your head down.”

You dropped your head onto your crossed arms in front of you. Her hand rubbed down your spine to deepen your arch, pulling your hips farther up.

“Hold it open for me, baby.”

You whimpered and reached down between your legs, spreading the drippy folds of your cunt to expose your clit. You heard her curse behind you before you felt slow massages on your clit. They were so delicate, almost ticklish, and it made you shiver.

Your walls squeezed down and you heard her moan behind you. She rubbed a bit faster, the soft, squishy noises from your cunt filling the room. You tried to push back on her fingers, but she harshly dug her nails into your hip to hold you still, pulling her fingers away from you.

“Abby, please— “

She ignored you, prying your lips apart with her thumbs. Her breath hit your cunt as she slurred, “You trust me?”

You nodded incessantly, “Yeah, baby, trust you, fuck, I trust you— “

Her lips sucked around your clit, and you bucked back on her face with force. She wasted no time, shoving two of her fingers inside you and curling them. She poked and prodded at your walls as she flicked your throbbing bud and holy fuck, you missed her so fucking bad—

You couldn’t help the noises that left your mouth when she hit your spot dead on, your walls milking her fingers with eagerness. You cried out her name as your orgasm pulled from deep within your gut, your fingers curling into fists into her couch cushions. The sounds your cunt made were becoming louder as your moans crescendo, your hips moving on their own accord to get her deeper inside you.

Her tongue slowed on your clit, slowly licking up towards your entrance and… passed your entrance. She moved up, up, and her wet muscle swiped over your ass—

A sharp gasp shot through you, your head whipping around to face her. On any other occasion, she would’ve halted everything and checked in on you, but her fingers didn’t stop. Her thrusts were harsh and unrelenting, her eyes cutting through you, “Fuckin’ trust me, right?”

You sobbed when she slapped your still burning cheek, nodding your consent with tears streaming down your face. She didn’t hesitate to lick over your hole, her tongue sliding back and forth over the puckered entrance.

“Abby, fuckfuckfuck, oh fuck— “

She hummed against your hole and your head dropped on the cushions completely, using your bent elbows as leverage to fuck back onto her face.

She mumbled nastily against you, “Just needa be slutted out, baby? Yeah?”

You could only whine and sob in reply before the strong squeezes of your orgasm built and built. You were right fucking there you just needed her to—

Her tongue shoved inside you, and your body seized and tensed under the pressure of your orgasm. It wracked through your body in waves as you wailed into the pillows beneath you, both sets of walls contracting through your pleasure. Your cunt milked her fingers with urgency, your juices dripping out of your entrance and down Abby’s wrist. She tongued you through the aftershocks.

She slowly brought you back down as your pulses slowed, planting a kiss on the back of your thigh before pulling out. Exhaustion took over your body as she helped you get onto your back, your head propped up on the pillows behind you. You kicked your dangling panties off and allowed her to lift your leg over her shoulder. She climbed on top of you, straddling your resting thigh. You looked up at her and… the large vein in her biceps made you shiver.

“A-Abby?”

She grabbed your tit, “Hm.”

You whimpered, “Are you a gym rat?”

She snorted, a grin spreading across her pretty face as she massaged the soft skin. “Errr… yes? When I wanna be. Why do you ask?”

Throw me across the room! You eyed her bulging vein, “Nothin’.”

She smirked down at you, “Mhm.”

… Did she just flex her bicep what the fuck—

You didn’t even have a chance to think before her pussy rubbed up against yours, and nearly cried when you saw your sopping cunts connect, sighs of satisfaction leaving your mouths when your clits bumped up against each other, bonded by strings of slick. You grabbed her thigh for support, digging your nails into her soft skin as her grinds increased in pace.

Your throbbing bud jerked with each pass of her hips. You did everything in your power to keep your eyes open so you could watch her: her head was tossed back with her lip between her teeth, her defined stomach tensing and she fucked you. She looked so desperate to cum, to feel so good that she forgets everything. She kept taking and taking like you never allowed her to, and you never wanted it to end.

“Your pussy feels s’good, shit,” she grinded down on you harder as she gazed at the ceiling. “Gonna make me cum— “

“Cum on me, Abby? Please cum on my pussy?” You whimpered up at her as your eyes grew heavy, and she slumped over the pillows, strong arms holding her up as she used you to fuck herself. She was getting louder, and you were squeezing as your second orgasm approached. Her pussy was hitting you right where you needed, right on your clit and you were about to—

You saw a screen flash out the corner of your eye as your device blared, and the drop of your heart matched the tight grip of your pussy.

Abby was close, and your dad was calling.

Abby was too deep in her pleasure to notice as she begged you to cum with her, grabbing at your tits and yanking your nipples. Your pleasure kept rising and your phone wouldn’t stop fucking ringing—

“Fuck, baby, oh god, m’cumming!—“

Abby’s scream sent you off, your eyes rolling back, and your core squeezing with all you had to give. She was fucking you so hard through your euphoria, crying your name as you did the same. She was hitting your clit so good, you couldn’t breathe.

Your ears were ringing so loud that you couldn’t hear the second call coming in, and you didn’t care. Your hips bucked as much as they could to meet hers, helping her ride out her intense orgasm. The harder you pushed up, the more you could feel her pussy pulsating. It sent another wave of pleasure through you.

The feeling eventually subsided, the contractions in your cunt easing into light jerks. Abby caught her breath before moving off and plopping on top of you as she breathed heavily in your ear. You brought a hand up to rub her scalp, twirling her hair around your index finger as her scent infiltrated your senses. Your phone was finally quiet.

“Can I fuck your ass?”

Her heavy exhale made your spine bend. You could feel her smile against your neck.

You were about to pass out, and it wasn’t from your insomnia.

Abby carried you upstairs to her bed, and eventually got your legs over her shoulders while she lubricated her deep blue strap… with a slit at the incredibly fat tip? She never used this one with you before. It was veiny, curved, and thick; How the hell was that going to fit in your ass!

You knew one of her darkest secrets was cumming inside of somebody, but you didn’t know she meant it. You couldn’t stop thinking about all the times she moaned about cumming inside you. Knocking you up. She was really going to—

“Stop staring at my dick, it’s rude,” she said blankly.

Your eyes flickered up to meet hers, “Sorry.”

She snickered, “I’m kidding, relax.”

How could you relax when she was jerking off in front of you! Her hands are so pretty on her dick, and you could cry right now because of it!

You squealed when she slapped it on your clit, the silicone getting drenched in her flavored lube and your slick. Your pussy squeezed in anticipation; She was about to destroy your cunt and you couldn’t think, holy shit, you missed her so badly—

She breathed eagerly, “You know what to do, baby.”

You nodded, reaching down to hold your pussy open for her. She lined her tip up at your entrance, “Need this dick?”

“Fuck yes— “

She cooed, “Yeah? Want me?”

You looked up at her, your head bobbing up and down like you were entranced. You wanted her so much. Too much. The look of pride in her eyes was going to stay in your memory forever.

“Fucking say it,” she spat.

“Want you inside me, baby, please fuck me!”

She popped the tip in, and you moaned as pleasurable pain rushed through you. She took her time easing into you, allowing you to feel every ridge of her dick against your walls. The veins in the silicone were catching on your walls and it made you squeeze down tight.

She paused and kissed your ankle, “Ease up, baby. C’mon.”

“Can’help it, fuck, splittin’ me open,” your tongue felt so large in your mouth.

“Fuck, missed wrecking this pussy,” she moaned out, staring down at the way your walls choked her length.

She pushed an inch deeper, and you nearly shouted.

She smirked, “Right there?”

You were drooling onto your chest as you craned up to watch how you connected. She was pressed right up against the spot that made you see stars, and you felt the beginnings of your orgasm stirring in your gut.

She pushed inside until she was fully submerged in your juices, your slick coating the entire toy when she pulled out, only to fuck back into you again. She stretched you out until you were grabbing at her hip, trying to pull her deeper into you. She wrapped her arms around both of your calves and drilled in your guts, only pulling out a few inches before shoving back in.

The power of her thrusts was causing the flowery headboard to bang up against the wall, the soggy noises of your cunt and squeals of pleasure filling the room. She was battering your pussy completely, and you couldn’t do anything to stop her.

“Pussy’s pushing me out,” she garbled with a limp tongue. “Feel good, baby? Can’t take it?”

You couldn’t find the strength to respond, nails digging into her soft blankets as she transported you to another dimension, sparkles and glitter exploding behind your eyelids as your unannounced orgasm shook your spirit, “Can feel you cummin’, shit.”

Her voice was muffled from the ringing in your ears. You could barely register her pulling out and grabbing her girth, quickly rubbing her wet tip on your clit to rub you through your orgasm. You felt speckles of droplets land on your ass and the covers beneath you, eyes crossed in your skull and the taste of copper in your mouth from biting your lip too hard.

She didn’t let you recover before she released your legs, pinning them down to your chest by the back of your knees, nearly folding you in half and shoving back into your wetness with a disgusting noise.

She bounced you on her cock like a weightless ragdoll, your body shifting up her bed with force. She hit so deep whenever she fucked like this. Her tip was nudging your cervix whenever she dug in deep, the pain plunging into you like a knife as tears filled your eyes and pleasure sizzled all the way down to your toes.

“Gonna cum in this fuckin’ pussy, oh my god— “

You couldn’t help the babbles that came from you, drooly yesyesyesyess’ coming from you, “Yeah, baby? Need me to fill your pussy up?”

You nearly passed out at the thought of her stuffing you, your orgasm built until it crashed into you, snatching the wind in your body as you let out a quiet scream. Your lashes were fluttering, and spit was sliding down your cheek, completely dumb under her.

And then you felt a thin stream of liquid shoot inside your pulsing cunt. You swore you flatlined.

Your orgasm only intensified at the feeling of her creaming inside you, her gross whispers making the hairs on your arms stand, “Gonna knock this slutty cunt up and send you home filthy. Want you drippin’ with it.”

You nodded brainlessly; You’d do whatever she wanted as long as she kept fucking and filling you. Another harsh stream exploded inside you, and your juices sprayed on her lap. You went limp under her, letting her move and toss you around how she pleased. You were getting so fucking tired, but you didn’t want her to stop.

She gave one last deep grind, poking your cervix one last time before pulling out, her gaze dropping to watch her seed spill out of your battered cunt. She pushed your legs down even further, knees nearly hitting your head as she lined her dick up at your ass, “Would marry this pussy, swear to god. It takes dick so good.”

You only released a choked noise in approval; She could have you however she wanted!

Her pretty brow arched cockily, “You like that? Like when I make this pussy mine?”

You shook your head so fast. It’s yours, baby! It’s all yours!

She barely pushed forward, her tip nudging your other entrance, making you squeal, “Is this mine too?”

“Fuck yes, s’yours, baby!”

She popped in, and you sobbed. You need this, you need this, you need her—

Tears ran down to your neck as you cried, her gentle shushes caressing your ear drums like symphonies, “Such a good girl, doing so good for me, just a little more, okay?”

You couldn’t stop moaning at the foreign sensation, “G-Gimme all of it, oh my fuckin’ god—“

“… You sure?”

She paused, only a couple inches inside as she gauged you. The gentle aura you're so used to finally returned as she massaged your thighs comfortingly, and your heart swelled.

You spoke in one breath, “Fuck my ass, Abby, please. S’gonna make me cum again— “

“Tell me if I’m— “

“Please, baby, s’gonna hurt s-so good, gimme— “

“Okay, baby shhh, I gotchu,” she hushed you, quickly grabbing the discarded bottle of lube at your side and squeezing a messy quantity over your pulsating entrance. She tossed it somewhere and pushed in deeper, the burn sending hot shockwaves to your brain. How were you about to cum there’s no way you’re going to cum—

“A-Abby, fuck me, fuckme— “

She was whimpering with you, still pressing in, “Don’t wanna hurt you baby, shit— “

“Fuck me harder, m’so close!”

Your eyes squeezed shut when she pushed the last few inches in, sitting deep in your ass, and you came so hard. You could hear her moaning with you as she grinded you out. The cum that sat deep in your cunt was pulsing out of you with each clench, dripping down to your filled ass and coating her. You forced your eyes open so you could watch her, eyes burning with lust and her toned body drenched in sweat.

She brought a hand down to your pussy and shoved two fingers in, curling and hitting your spot at a vigorous pace. The squelches were so loud over your pleased shouts, and you squirted all over her hand, some droplets splattering on your chest and chin.

She yanked her fingers out to pat and spank your throbbing clit before pushing your legs back up, pulling out slowly before shoving her entire length back into you.

Abby has never been this aggressive during sex, but she was slapping you, fucking you deep and hard, spitting on your face from where she towered over you, and you took all of it like she was paying you. Your ass was rippling on her cock, trying to make space for her cock so it could suck her in deeper. You couldn’t stop squirting, both your cum dripping out of both your holes.

Gonna cum so hard in this ass, oh my fuckin’ god, you feel so good.

It’s mine? Say it’s mine.

Look at that dirty fucking pussy. Nasty cumslut. You love being my fucking worthless whore, don’t you?

Just needa turn that pretty brain off? Yeah? Need me to take care of you? Fuck you stupid?

You were thrown into one long, constant orgasm and she talked you through it. You clawed at her ass and sheets and your own tits to keep yourself grounded but it wasn’t working. You were getting her so wet, a large puddle forming underneath you as your body jerked away from her. But she held you down, made you take what she gave, made you see god. You felt so fucking good that it almost pained you.

You could hear her moans increase in volume, not bothering to pull out as she grinded deep inside you. You knew she was close, riding her harness into completion. You used the only strength you had to turn your head to the side, making eye contact with yourself in her large dresser mirror. You looked fucked up, but you watched yourself cum before staring at Abby’s reflection.

Her eyes were squeezed shut as she bucked into you quickly, her tits and fat on her ass shaking in the mirror. You could hear her whispering makemecummakemecum over and over again, and you shuddered when another spurt of liquid left you.

Cum in my ass, cum in me filled your brain like a mantra.

You fought to keep your eyes open, watching the muscles in her body tighten up before she yelled out, screaming how hard she was cumming and how good your ass sucked her cum in. A line of spit left her mouth and landed on your thigh as she shuddered through her pleasure, and you felt her jizz fill your ass, the second load much larger than the first. It felt so fucking good.

Another orgasm rushed through as you both screamed in pleasure. You tried to meet her grinds, pushing down to get her squirting dick even deeper inside.

Abby dropped your legs and they instantly wrapped around her waist as she fell forward, resting her full weight on you as she rode out her orgasm. Her moans of your name didn’t stop, and it felt like you both were cumming for hours. She filled and filled you like you were milking her dry, draining her completely and it made you cum again. Your arms wrapped around her neck to pull her close, nails digging into the flexing muscles in her back and leaving red trails.

She screamed out a warning of another orgasm right before her body trembled on top of you. Her dick wasn't bursting in you anymore; Why did that make you sad?

Her grinds eventually slowed into twitches as you both came down. She was planting gentle kisses and sucks on your neck, her hands coming down to rub the soreness from your thighs as you massaged her scalp.

You made sure to keep your eyes open so you wouldn’t drift off into dreamland.

After Abby pulled out and cleaned you up, she rummaged through her underwear drawer and pulled out a Marlboro box and lighter.

… Why were you horny again?

Her wet, semi-leaking dick was still strapped around her waist, her now scarred backside facing you as she stuck the orange end between her lips and ignited it. You watched her through the mirror, her body instantly relaxing as she puffed silently. You looked like a cat in heat.

She looked up and stared back at you in the reflection, taking the smoke between her index and middle finger, exhaling around her words.

“What’re you looking at?”

You shrugged and smiled like a ditz. She shook her head at you before sticking the butt in her mouth, undoing the adjusts and stepping out of her dick. She picked it up, eyes flickering awkwardly before throwing it in her hamper. You giggled quietly.

She ashed her cig over her small trash can, before looking at you, “Come shower?”

Your heart pounded in your chest like she didn’t just obliterate your pussy and ass. You consented in silence.

You could hear her laughing as you hobbled to the bathroom, “I coulda carried you, y’know.”

You flipped her off.

After washing, Abby just… held you.

The water was still beating down on the two of you, her head resting on your shoulder as she rubbed your back. And you did the same.

You felt so relaxed, and everything was quiet in your head, the lavender scent of her body wash surrounding the two of you. You could’ve fallen asleep right here.

Her hushed tone surprised you.

“Are you leaving tonight?”

Your heart shredded to pieces at her nervous tone. She sighed in relief at your whisper.

“No, Abby. I’m not.”

You didn’t know what would happen when you returned home, but for now, you relished in her warm embrace as you nodded off onto her shoulder.

You didn’t sleep alone.

OOHHHHH im ovulating LOL

anal whores this one’s for y’all😞😞

taggie waggies :3 @ohlawdthebirds @fibrogirlie @unangelic-thoughts @chrry1ovr @uraesthete @gravygranules @digit4lslut @machetegirl109 @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @macaroni676 @sillygooselit @nil-eena @elliesgirlll @hi2647 @fr0thycoffee @mai5mai @sweet-lover-girl

prologue. part one. part two. part three. interlude.

#𓈒∘☁︎let the rain sing☁︎∘𓈒 #abby anderson smut #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson x you #abby anderson angst #abby anderson au #works 𖧧࣪

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dewdropdinosaur · 1 month

Text

Rubber Ducky, You're the One

LUCIFER X READER

Summary: Lucifer has had a hell of a week, no pun intended. But you know just what he needs to relax.

Warnings: Implied nakedness, cussing. Rating: PG-13

For the wonderful @anon-of-the-void

REQUESTS OPEN

In the depths of Hell, amidst the chaos and cacophony of damned souls, Lucifer Morningstar, the charismatic and somewhat prideful King of Hell, found himself buried under the weight of his responsibilities. Yes, the King did actually work despite his duck inventing hyper focus. From managing the unruly demons to negotiating with powerful overlords and complaints from citizens, his days were consumed by the ceaseless demands of ruling the underworld. And as if that wasn't enough, the relentless manifestations of the seven deadly sins only added to his burdens(Mammon is a right pain in the arse)

Each day seemed to blend into the next, the weight of his crown growing heavier with every passing moment. Despite his unparalleled charm and wit, even Lucifer had his limits.

One particularly exhausting day, Lucifer trudged back to his imposing castle, his shoulders slumped with weariness. His mind buzzed with the endless tasks that awaited him, and his steps echoed with the weight of his concerns. The grand halls of his fortress felt suffocating, the shadows whispering reminders of his never-ending duties. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion, his usually vibrant demeanor dulled by the weight of his burdens.

As he entered his private chambers, he took off his top hat and sat his cane to prop against the adjacent wall. Walking to his desk and plopping down on the plush office chair, he groaned into his hands and buried his head in them.

Only when the small creak of his door sounded did he look up after what felt like hours. He was met with a sight that momentarily lifted the heavy veil of stress from his soul. There, amidst the dim glow of flickering candles, stood his beloved Y/N, radiant and serene, a gentle smile gracing her lips. They had been together for quite some time - the Hellish monarch getting a second chance at love despite thinking that the time for him was long passed.

"Welcome home, ducky," she greeted him, her voice like a soothing melody amidst the chaos of Hell.

Lucifer's heart swelled with warmth at the sight of her. Despite the darkness that surrounded them, Y/N was his beacon of light, his solace in the storm.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice softened by the tenderness that enveloped him in her presence despite his tiredness still coming through.

"What are you doing here?"

Y/N stepped forward, her gaze unwavering as she reached out to take his hand. "I could tell you needed a break," she replied, her touch gentle yet reassuring. "And so, I thought I might help if you’ll allow me?"

“No, no darling. I’m alright.”

“Bullshit Luci.”

“You don’t have to take care of me.”

“I know but I choose to. Nothing in return is needed - I just want to dote on you.”

With a gentle tug, to which he did not fight against due to his weakened state, she led him to the grand marble bath that awaited them; its waters shimmering invitingly in the soft glow of candlelight. The sight of it stirred a sense of longing within Lucifer, a longing for respite, for a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

Wordlessly, Y/N began to undress him, her movements tender and deliberate. She stripped away the layers of his regal attire, each garment a symbol of the responsibilities he bore. And with each piece that fell away, Lucifer felt a weight lift from his soul, leaving him feeling vulnerable yet liberated in her presence. Y/N never failed to make the prideful demon shiver. Despite being the harbinger of sin himself, Lucifer always faltered under to gaze - making him feel so small in the best way. Like she could envelop him in her warm embrace and the world would all be alright; that he could be taken care of without fault or repayment(something he never felt with Lillith)

Once he was disrobed, Y/N guided him into the warm embrace of the bubbling waters, the scent of lavender and jasmine enveloping them both. With a soft sigh of contentment, Lucifer sank into the soothing depths, his muscles relaxing beneath the gentle caress of the water.

There, amidst the flickering candlelight, she began to test the water of the luxurious bubble bath with her finger, the scents filling the air with soothing lavender. And as he slipped into the steaming bath, surrounded by a frothy sea of bubbles, he felt the tension in his muscles melt away.

Y/N knelt beside the bath, a soft cloth in hand as she began to wash away the grime and tension that clung to his weary form. Her touch was firm, her hands moving with practiced care as she tended to him with unwavering devotion.

As she worked, Lucifer felt the knots of tension begin to unravel, his mind drifting into a state of blissful tranquility. In that moment, there was only the soothing warmth of the water, the gentle ministrations of Y/N, and the overwhelming sense of peace that washed over him like a cleansing tide. As Lucifer sank deeper into the soothing bubbles, he couldn't help but notice a playful glint in Y/N's eyes as she reached for something hidden behind her back.

"Darling," she said with a mischievous grin, "I have a surprise for you."

Intrigued, Lucifer raised an eyebrow as Y/N produced a bright yellow rubber ducky from behind her back, its cheery expression contrasting with the dark ambiance of the bath.

"A rubber ducky?" Lucifer chuckled, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "You never cease to amaze me, my dear."

Y/N giggled as she plopped the rubber ducky into the bathwater, its buoyant figure bobbing amidst the bubbles. "I thought it might lighten the mood," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Lucifer couldn't help but laugh as he reached out to retrieve the rubber ducky, holding it aloft with a sense of childlike wonder. "Well, I must say, it's a rather dashing addition to our bath time routine."

With a playful grin, Y/N leaned forward to gently boop the rubber ducky on the nose, causing it to squeak in protest. The sound echoed off the marble walls of the bathroom, filling the room with a sense of whimsy.

As the evening wore on and the bathwater cooled, Lucifer and Y/N reluctantly emerged from the luxurious depths of their tub. Wrapped in plush towels, they made their way to the cozy confines of their living room, where a crackling fire danced merrily in the hearth.

With a contented sigh, Lucifer settled onto the plush couch, pulling Y/N into his arms as they nestled together beneath a soft blanket. The warmth of the fire enveloped them, casting a soft glow upon their entwined forms.

"Tonight was exactly what I needed," Lucifer murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Y/N's forehead. "Thank you, my love."

Y/N smiled sleepily, her eyes drifting closed as she snuggled closer to him. "Anytime, darling. I'm always here for you."

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bby-deerling · 5 months

Note

Hi Cille! Love your writing, "Distraction" lives in my mind absolutely rent free. Halfway through reading it, I had to stop and just held onto the wall for a second. Congrats on all your new followers! May I request a Law + Threatened + NSFW? Cheers! -miss

ahh i loved this request! as a special treat i made it with the same reader from distraction and counting coins in mind!

law x afab!fem!reader + threatened (nsfw)

18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 1.0k masterlist song inspo

cw: blood, law is just a smidgen unhinged, fingering, implied oral (reader receiving)

Idling away beneath the crashing waves for weeks on end, it was easy to cast aside the more violent aspects of your partner. Spending your days cooped up in the lab and evenings cooped up in his office, it was easy to shelve all the fact that Law had killed over one hundred pirates with decent sized bounties and sent their hearts in boxes to Marine Headquarters. When he holds you close to his chest in the morning, half-asleep and looking as innocent as the day he was born, your mind and heart weren’t capable of acknowledging anything but the overflowing love and kindness he showed to you during private moments together.

However, the carnage unfolding before you was impossible to ignore.

It was your fault, really; you had gotten yourself mildly injured despite being ordered to fall back. The shift in Law was subtle to the unattuned observer, but you had no doubt in the fact that something in his mind had snapped when he saw crimson liquid trickling down your thigh.

The heat of battle turns some dizzy with rage, but Law’s bloodlust is dark, quiet, and calculated. He doesn’t deviate from his plan, not for one second, but he becomes more sadistic, cruel, and not afraid to spill a bit of unnecessary blood. Less hesitant, he goes through the motions, trusting in his initial strategic instincts rather than hanging back to regularly reassess the situation as he normally would.

As your crewmates celebrate a battle won, none the wiser to your Captain’s shift in attitude, you eye him carefully. It was far from the first time you’ve seen him like this, and it certainly won’t be the last, but it always unnerved you when he was so different from the Law you mill around in coin stores with, or the Law who can’t hide the smile when he sees the notes and doodles you leave on his desk, or the Law who presses sweet kisses into your thigh, playfully teasing you as he makes you unravel for him. An aura of angst and darkness surrounded him, invisible to seemingly everyone else but you; a shiver of anticipation rushes down your spine when he glances at you for a brief moment and his eyes are seemingly darker than his hair.

When you get back to the Polar Tang, Bepo tries to clumsily patch your small scrape up, but you insist it just needed cleaned up a bit, and that you could handle it yourself.

“Leave it until I can take care of it.” Law warns, his glare still intense from the heat of battle. You don’t dare to disobey him when he’s in a touchy mood like this, but you do become impatient as one by one, your crewmates are attended to and sent out of the infirmary. Your injury was extremely minor, so it made sense to treat you last, but you had the gnawing suspicion that even after you had been cleaned up, you would be trapped within these four walls for quite a while; you are proven correct when he locks the door after Penguin finally leaves, staring you down like a leopard stalking its prey and waiting for it to make any sudden moves.

“You didn’t listen to me. Now look at you.” he said lowly. Inhaling deeply, you prepare yourself for a lecture for not being careful enough in battle.

“It’s just a scrape Law, I’m sorry—”

“Get on the bed.”

Wordlessly, you climb onto the cold, sterile hospital bed, heart pounding so hard you hear it in your ears. Law is careful with his footsteps as he approaches, baited by the scent of your viscous, drying blood covering your leg. Even in his haze of anger, frustration, neediness, and bloodlust, he’s careful and calculated as he slowly drags his fingers along the inside of your thigh.

“How come you always listen to me so well, except for when your life is on the line, hm?” he murmurs in your ear, sending a pulse straight to your core. He chuckles at your visible reaction to just his words and a few light touches, and gently traces his tattooed fingers along your clothed slit.

Law was methodical, precise, and loving with his touches—except for the rare moments like these where there is something deeper and rougher bubbling beneath the surface. His mouth is hungry for the taste of your lips, eagerly meeting your tongue with his and leaving harsh bites on your bottom lip each time he pulls away. He’s rough when he pulls your shorts and panties to the side and slides two of his fingers inside of you, muffling your gasps and moans with his own lips.

You grip the thin paper sheet on the bed as he sinks down your torso, but his mouth doesn’t reach your clit. He dips lower, and you gasp out when he licks at the blood on your leg. He moans at the sounds you make as his tongue drags across your wound, sending vibrations through your trembling body. It was mesmerizing, watching him obsessively drink each drop of your blood—of your life’s essence, determined to consume you whole.

And then you kill the mood.

“Is there a certain class of proteins in saliva that make wounds heal faster, or is that a myth?” you ask, immediately biting your tongue when you remember he’s probably in no mood to talk about this right now.

To your surprise, he looks up at you, darkness fading from his eyes and wearing a lopsided grin on his face. “Histatins. The amount of tissue factor also increases the rate of blood clotting.” he says, before dragging his tongue one final time along your little scrape, sinking his fingers deeper inside you at the same time.

“T-think I’d be able to make some synthetically?” you ask, stuttering as you try to string together a coherent sentence.

“Course you can. You’re the smartest woman I know. Not sure how effective it would be in vivo though.” he says, curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot.

You let out a shaky exhale, partly in pleasure and partly in relief. Trafalgar Law is a terrifying monster on the battlefield, and while it is exciting to briefly feel that intensity directed towards you, nothing beat the way that your Law—not the Surgeon of Death or Warlord of the Sea, just Law—looked at you with that dorky smirk and adoration in his eyes as he fucked you with his fingers.

#one piece x reader #x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #mdni #one piece smut #100 follower event

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 8 months

Note

Hi there! Big fan of your writing, can I request Yandere 1st, 2nd and 3rd Years with a Female Yoriichi Reader who’s the creator of Sun Breathing and the other Breathing Forms, known as the Strongest Demon Slayer to ever exist (She has access to the Transparent World and can use the Selfless State)

Reader always has a solemn expression, but is in fact very kind and compassionate but despite her incredible feats, skills and abilities she’s very humble, seeing herself as just another regular human and not even special, despite her extraordinary skills and explains that she sees herself as nothing but a ‘worthless failure’ because she couldn’t kill Muzan and how her older brother turned into a Demon (As she says her life is completely worthless and wouldn’t mind to be forgotten)

Thank you so much!

🖤🖤🖤

Yoriichi Tsugikuni Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’re a lot more mature than the rest of them. As expected you’re physically stronger and you're usually stone-faced, making your pursuers eager to break that. When you do finally open up about your past it puts everything into perspective, making them more eager to stop you from going home:

Jack Howl

“You’re no failure! You are strong and it isn’t over yet there is always the option to move forward!”

If he’s able to kindle your spirit he’ll make it so that you will return

But not without him

Your his mate, and whoever's in the way needs to die move

Sebek Zigvolt

“DO NOT MAKE SUCH A FACE. You’re on the level of Malleus-sama I see no reason to denounce your achievements!”

No doubt is very vocal about your beauty and strength

He loves all of you

He’s irritated you can not see that

Thus he refuses to allow your return

But until he’s able to take you head on

So he’ll use more underhanded methods

Ace Trappola

“Yeah? Well, I guess it's best you ended up here then!”

He hates that you’re moping about anyone other than him

So he’ll do what it takes to keep you happy here

Even if it means twisting his words

Deuce Spade

“No way! You’re the best! I lov–I mean w-w–e’re the best of friends…so don’t think about them, okay.”

Who cares about the monsters there when there are plenty here

You can slice at them

It doesn't have to be a demon right

If you’re really needing to slay a demon he’s more than happy to make some

Epel Felmier

“Its not your fault! Those jerks are the ones who are at fault they’re the monsters you just tried to help.”

He so mad that some nameless nobodies are what’s making you upset

As far as he concerns he’s not letting you go back

You might beat him when it comes to strength but until he gets there

He’s winning the only way he can

And if that means putting you to sleep while he destroys your only source home

#yandere epel felmier #yandere epel x reader #yandere epel felmier x reader #yandere jack howl x reader #yandere jack howl #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere ace trappola #yandere ace trappola x reader #yandere ace x reader #yandere deuce spade #yandere deuce x reader #yandere deuce spade x reader #yandere sebek zigvolt #yandere sebek x reader #yandere sebek twst #yandere x reader

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lace-coffin · 5 months

Text

Slasher autism headcanons

Requests are open!

is this just me projecting onto other slashers? Absolutely! It’s like the spider man pointing at eachother meme but it’s just me and slashers both having autism 😌

Tw: slight mentions of meltdowns and self injuring stims

Billy Lenz

*slaps him like the hood of a car* “do you know how much autism you can fit in here?”

Billy struggles with loud noises especially repetitive ones. He often holds the phone far away from his ear when calling the sorority because he can’t stand the call tone. please get him some headphones or ear defenders

Despite this he enjoys making a lot of noise through vocal stimming/echolalia, picking up on words or phrases he hears from you or the others at the sorority. He usually has a record playing to keep him from getting under-stimulated, though this can be a delicate balance because sometimes it helps and sometimes it’s too much and annoys him.

Billy is hyper verbal (this may be more of an adhd thing I’m unsure) he has so many thoughts he needs to voice to the point where it feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t get them out audibly. He does struggle knowing when it’s his turn to talk though so he may accidentally talk over you.

Billy tends to get along with animals better, connecting to them just feels easier and more natural. He loves to hang out with Claude and rub his face against his fur.

Billy often throws and breaks things during meltdowns, doing it in the heat of the moment and regretting it later if it was something he cared about. Please reassure him it’s not his fault and help him clean it up/ fix it when he feels ready to be around people again.

May not be purely and autism thing but affection bites for sure

Bubba sawyer

Bubba stims in a lot of ways. Flapping his hands in excitement and doing little dances. I think She would play with the charms on her bracelet she took from Pam when they don’t feel safe to openly stim, say he’s in public somewhere he’s not familiar with or dealing with victims.

They have a habit of hitting their head with their fists during meltdowns and pacing (as seen in the og movie when she’s upset about the victims breaking in when no one’s home)

Bubba is also hyper empathetic, other peoples emotions have a big effect on them, sometimes making it hard to settle when their family is distraught.

Non verbal- speaking feels unnatural and straining for her, her family have never pushed him to talk since it’s clear it’s uncomfortable so she’s happy to communicate via noises and body language. Communication cards may be helpful for when more complex answers are needed.

Loud noises aren’t really a problem for her since he’s running around with a loud ass chainsaw all day but it can become grating after a long day if they’re overstimulated already, they’ll push through it and get the task done but he’ll need some time alone in his room to recuperate after.

Doesn’t leave the house super often, they’re much comfier to be home around people they know. She does occasionally go shopping with Drayton and their siblings but it’s very taxing on her because of all the stimuli so it’s not super often.

Michael Myers

I think he’d have a very specific pallet, not liking inconsistencies in its foods and preferring to stick to the stuff it knows it likes. he has such a sweet tooth and eats a bunch of candy. It likes the texture differences in different kinds of sweets, jelly is a particularly good one. Mikey eats a lot of grilled cheese to, it’s mum used to make it for him a lot as a kid and it’s a staple safe food for him. He likes his food bland and beige (me to mikey)

Very specific about his clothing, labels are an absolute no go and need to be cut out. He only likes to wear one brand of coveralls because they’re the only ones it feels sits right without making him want to crawl out of his skin. So basically its wardrobe is just a bunch of the same brand coveralls. (Like SpongeBob with his identical wardrobe lol)

Non verbal through choice, mikey can talk but finds it uncomfortable to do so it usually doesn’t. If he really needs to get something across that he can’t then it’ll use sign.

Low empathy, Michael feels empathy for people close to him like his mother or you but not for others. He doesn’t really understand why he should care about people unimportant to him.

It’s part of Michael’s routine for you to go to bed together at the same time, it gets gradually more antsy the longer you stay up over bedtime. Eventually if he deems what you’re doing not worthy of staying up for he’ll just pull you away from it and carry you to bed. It also sleeps in a specific position, he has the whole bed to sleep in but prefers to curl up in the same way he did back at smiths grove, apart from there he didn’t have a choice. If you’re asleep and splayed out Michael would rather sleep on the sofa so he can be in its comfy position. He also probably won’t touch you if your wearing pyjamas with a bad texture, brushed cotton is a no and he won’t be cuddling you unless you’re in a safe textured set.

Doesn’t like eye contact much, he feels more comfortable in looking at peoples face if it’s wearing a mask, it’s less intimate and awkward.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms can go from very clingy to not wanting to be touched very quickly. He adores being attached to you anyway he can, like cuddling you from behind when cooking or wrapping himself around you in bed. Despite this Brahms can get overwhelmed with touch sometimes, the feeling of ‘to much’ buzzing under his skin. If this is the case then he’ll likely need time to himself back in the walls.

Brahms likes everything to be on schedule and to follow the rules. Like we see in the movies he gets upset when his rules are ignored since it throws of his routine and schedule. If you need to do anything extra or take something off the schedule please let him know in advance so he has time to process it.

Low empathy but only for people not super close to him. He understands how he’s expected to react socially to peoples problems/pain and can show it through masking but it’s purely because he thinks it’s what he has to do.

The walls are a safe space for him. His room was the place he felt calmest after what happened with his parents, its decorated to his taste and dimly lit as not to hurt his eyes. His room has everything he needs within close distance so if he’s feeling low on spoons then the fridge is only a few steps away. Plenty of blankets for pressure/burying himself into.

Also we can’t ignore the fact he literally masks with his porcelain doll mask lol

I think Brahms would use to much eye contact as opposed to none, he was taught it was polite in his lessons as a boy and took it slightly to literally. He loves to stare at you affectionately < 3

Asa emory

Special interest in bugs and entomology! I headcanon that he mostly became a professor so he can info dump about his special interests all day to his hearts content. He can get frustrated quickly if he feels he’s not being listened to.

(Ignoring the shitty enclosures in the collector bc I say so) I think proper husbandry would be important to him, he researches for days before he feels comfortable setting up a home for his specimens. If he’s feeling overwhelmed he likes to sit with his bug enclosures, watching over them and rocking himself.

Asa connects to his bugs more, finding them easier to understand , bugs tend to have more readable body language so it’s easier to tell when they want to be left alone without pressing to far. A person may say they’re not upset but are only hiding it to be polite. A tarantula will bare its fangs and let you know when it’s had enough.

Asa is very precise in his traps, planning them thoroughly before assembling, however he can get overwhelmed and upset say if a wire snaps repeatedly or the trap won’t work as it’s supposed to. He can feel himself boiling over and will abruptly stand from him chair, taking himself over to his bug collection to distract himself and hopefully avoid a meltdown.

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qinluofu · 3 months

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤrhodochrosite 🫧 shidou ryusei x gn!reader

in which shidou tries his best to comfort you from your toxic ex rin + asshole rin is very real in this au so beware

sfw work + 400++ wc

"it's me or them"

You couldn’t even look at Rin, trying to hold your tears. You could feel his gaze upon you, as you waited for an answer.

Rin sighs, “don’t make this difficult for me”

“I just want to know”, in your heart you already knew a definitive answer, you just wanted to hear him say it, say it so you can know he doesn’t love you, so you can move on

“I’d choose them”

And that’s all you needed to hear to never look back at him ever again.

You know that feeling when something heavy falls onto your stomach and you start crying uncontrollably? Yeah something like that

During the first day, you lay in bed all day with no appetite for any food and especially the pastries from the coffee shop just down the street (he always bought you the egg tarts). You kept checking for your messages, never blocking Rin just to see what he had to say, staring at the chat histories.

During the second day, everything sinks down to you and you realize you have lost the only person that cared about you. Were you really not enough? You tried to find fault in everything, everyone, but at the end there was still no one by your side.

During the third day, you felt rage inside you. You wanted to ruin his football career, you wanted to ruin his new partner, you almost could feel the motivation to get out of bed and properly confront him, to get the closure you deserved.

because rin isn’t the type of person to just cheat out of nowhere. because rin isn’t the type of person to be able to fake his love for someone for 5 years because you can’t accept the fact that he doesn't want you anymore

shidou knocks on your door. he knows your home, he knows you broke up with rin, he knows your sad.

despite his external layer of brassiness he knows well that its time to invade your personal space and rescue you from the pits of your bed before you suffocate of emotional damage.

shidou has to juggle between beating rin up or giving you a hug, beating rin up can satisfy his personal needs but might intensify your sadness so the latter seems more promising.

you slowly opened the door after knowing it was him after seeing the cameras and he nervously holds out his hands to embrace you, unsure if you would accept his hug.

surprisingly you didn't push him away. his hug felt warm, warmer and more sincere than any hug rin itoshi could ever give you. shidou slowly closed the door and coo's at your crying.

"everything's gonna be fine from now on."

a/n: there's gonna be a part2, i think.. this has been sitting in my drafts for a considerable time so i hope this was fine to read

#shidou ryusei #blue lock #blue lock fanfiction #bllk x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryusei x y/n #bllk scenarios #bluelock #shidou x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock angst #rin itoshi

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lunarduty · 3 months

Note

Love your stories, they are so good 💜💜💜

Could I request Delay with Graves please? Thank you

𝙆𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝙈𝙔 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙐𝙇𝙂𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙀𝙎

☾ graves doesn't want to be late for his hearing. | [ DELAY ] one muse is trying to get ready to go somewhere while the other keeps kissing them and unbutton/unzipping their clothes. PHILLIP GRAVES X F!READER TAGS | female reader WC | 764

“you’re not even expected to be there for another hour. that’s plenty of time…”

“on time is late, darlin’. gotta make a good impression on the first day of proceedings, right?”

a valid reason for phillip to gently pull your hands away from the buttons of his shirt, yet the cocky half-smirk he wore told you he enjoyed it a little too much. and as you pout, he doesn’t offer so much as a peck on the lips as a consolation - as if REVELING in the fact that you’ve been needy today and he’s able to shake off any arousal of his own just to keep the upper hand. phillip moves around you with a wink, walking back into the closet to pick out a tie. making a big show of letting his fingers drag over the silky fabric, knowing that your eyes followed him in.

it was hardly your fault. seeing him in his gear, while still ridiculously hot, had lost a lot of its power over time (mostly phillip’s fault, since he loved to the fuck you in it). but a suit? you could count the number of times he’d worn it on one hand, so seeing the stark white of his shirt stretch over his shoulders and tucked against his trim waist was still unfamiliar. still EXCITING to see.

but today was important, that much was true. so you pulled your gaze away, leaving phillip to pick his tie while you returned to your own routine. he didn’t need to try very hard to look good, but you wanted to make sure you reflected well on him.

that unfortunately meant leaving the fucking for after court and instead trying to busy yourself on making your hair look decent.

“hey, what’ya think? red or gray?”

out from the side of the mirror, phillip appeared holding both colored ties with a tilted head. a shrug rocks your shoulders - a nonchalant response despite the sudden tightness in your chest. trying to seem more interested in taming flyaways than in phillip himself.

but he notices right away. he always does. that’s why his smirk reappears as he comes closer, like a lion stalking his prey. eyes glued on your face through the mirror while looming over your shoulder like an overbearing shadow. “ignorin’ me now? ‘cause you can’t get your way?”

“no,” you reply with a clipped voice, “don’t wanna be on time, right?”

a short hum vibrates in phillip’s chest, and you almost feel it against your back. “then help me pick a tie, sweetie. you know how much i VALUE your input.” he says it with a taste of sarcasm on his tongue, but before you can feel defensive about it, two of his fingers wrap around your upper arm. easily spinning you to face him and lifting the ties so you can see.

but honestly, it’s his eyes that catch your focus. dark and warm and hard.

“so red? or gray?”

“...red, alright? gray will make you look older.”

“was that so hard? now, be a good girl and tie it for me. you always do it better than i can.”

that’s a lie, and he knows it. but when phillip drapes the red fabric around his neck, and your fingers immediately feel the heat of his body as you bring them up to take it, you can’t find it in yourself to care. he watches as you loop the silk in on itself, trying hard not to let your fingers brush against him. you fail when you tighten the knot and graze the skin of his neck.

and it wasn’t until you try to step away from phillip do you even realize that he had his hands on you - strong and UNWAVERING on your waist to keep you close, knowing you would’ve wanted to try and get some distance. “lookin’ a little flushed there, hun. need to relax. can’t have you so wound up in front the judges - gonna make me look bad.”

his hands start to wander. finding the zipper of your dress and slowly, achingly, pulling it down just half an inch before he leans in. his breath is hot and wet and smells of cinnamon toothpaste and there’s nothing you want more than to taste it.

but just before phillip can reach your lips, you pull your head back. fingers uncurling from the perfect white of his shirt before they can leave wrinkles. “you’re gonna mess up my lipstick,” you breathe out - this time, it’s you who smirks when you feel him panting, “and we’re gonna be late.”

#call of duty x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x you

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7-wonders · 7 months

Text

Never Been Kissed

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader

Summary: Morpheus cannot possibly wait another moment to let you know how he feels about you. What happens when it appears that you don't reciprocate?

Word count: 2.0k

Author's note: Shitty summary, sorry, but you know the scene in Barbie (2023) where Ken goes to kiss Barbie after the party and she just stands there?

This one? Yeah I got it into my head that it would be funny if eternal drama queen Morpheus was in Ken's position.

Clueless!reader, innocent!reader. This is just a kinda stupid, goofy little fic, idk. If you liked it, I'd appreciate hearing from you! If you didn't like it, sound off as well! My haters are my motivators.

P.S. You might be saying "the Endless aren't allowed to love mortals it leads to their ruin!" And I say that this is my fic so I decide the rules. Buckle up babes.

Death would say that he is head over heels.

Desire would say that it is boringly predictable and far too soon.

Lucienne would not say anything, but she would give him that look over the top of her glasses, the one that says that he had better know what he is doing.

Matthew would say that he is down bad, which is apparently what the youth of today are saying.

They are all right, though Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, wishes they were not. Despite his very best efforts, he has fallen in love once more. With a mortal, a human—you.

Morpheus has never had much luck in love. Though there were a few occasions (very, very few) where it was not his fault, he is mature enough to understand that he has often been the cause of a relationship’s demise. He falls hard and fast, and he always has. That, combined with his…intensity, is what he believes to doom him each and every time. Perhaps he gives too much of himself to those who don’t deserve it; perhaps he shows his hand too quickly.

But you, he knows, are different. You won’t hurt him, not in the way that others have. You won’t take him for granted.

Tonight, he has decided that he will finally confess to you his affections. He will bare his realm to you, the parts that no normal dreamer will ever get to see, and hope that you understand that this is akin to him baring his very soul. After all, he is the Dreaming, and the Dreaming is him.

But where to take you? What to show you? Morpheus agonized over these questions for far longer than he would care to admit. Although he hoped to be able to accompany you to the farthest reaches of his realm (a tall task, considering said realm was infinite), to explore so much of the Dreaming with you that he rediscovered lands he had long forgotten about, this first foray needed to be perfect. He needed something special, something that conveyed to you the depth of his feelings.

He decided to start with something simple that most people would like to see: Athens, and specifically the Acropolis, as it was in its glory days. For all of the animosity Morpheus felt towards the Greek pantheon, he had to admit that they, and their worshippers, contributed much to society and humanity as a whole. Next was a glimmering lake that was actually the moon’s surface, followed by a glen in what could be the Scottish highlands populated by dragons—he found himself particularly pleased by your stunned awe upon seeing the mythical creatures.

The penultimate stop was one that Morpheus took great pride in thinking up, for he knew that it would be your favorite. A visit to a fae village, exiled by Titania and given sanctuary in the Dreaming (solely due to Morpheus’s dislike of their monarch), enjoying a Harvest celebration. They were harmless creatures in the Dreaming, devoid of any of the power that fae normally possessed, so Morpheus did not feel any hesitation in allowing you to explore the festivities. Above all else, the fae love a good party, so it was not surprising when a few invited you to join them in dancing, pulling you along with them until you were spinning and twirling as though you had always known the fae folk dance. You reached for him, mouthing “Come dance with me!” but he gently rebuffed you with a shake of his head and a smile, happy to simply watch the way you moved, with a grin on your face and boisterous laughter sounding just as lovely as the music playing.

What you had referred to as a “behind-the-scenes tour” ends in his private gardens, long a place of solace for him. Your excitement, your joy, fuels him. It’s palpable and intoxicating, and Morpheus wishes he could bottle it and keep it with him forever to give him just a hint of this feeling whenever he wants.

“This is…amazing. Your realm is amazing,” you gush, your eyes sparkling. “I feel like that word is such an understatement for what I’m trying to describe, but it’s the only one that comes to mind right now.”

“It pleases me to hear you think so.”

“Thank you for this. For trusting me,” you say sincerely.

Morpheus was right, you do understand the gift that this experience was meant to be. It makes the space in his chest cavity, where his heart would be if he allowed this form to have one, feel warm. It is only the the very least I could, no, would give you, he thinks.

You’re smiling so sweetly at him, the moon shining down like a spotlight and making you look the closest to holy that Morpheus will ever get. This is it, he realizes. This is the moment where he will tell you of his love for you, and where you will then reciprocate. This is the moment that he will commit to memory for the rest of eternity until his sister locks up the universe behind her. This is the moment that you become his, and he yours.

There is so much that Morpheus wants to say to you, yet he knows not where to begin. An unfamiliar feeling swells within him—nervousness. What if he says the wrong thing, what if he scares you off with his intensity before he can truly say what he wants to say? No, best to show you how he feels before telling you, that way there is no doubt. With that, Morpheus leans in towards you and closes his eyes, waiting to feel his lips on yours.

That feeling does not come, and Morpheus belatedly realizes after a few moments that it will not come. When he opens his eyes and looks at you once more, you’re still standing in the same position that you were, still smiling, albeit looking a bit more confused

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

All of Morpheus’s plans, his hopes and…dreams, for lack of a better term, come crashing down around him. So you’ve rejected him, then. He has laid his heart bare for you, shown you parts of his realm that no other mortal has been lucky enough to see, and you’ve turned him down. This, he muses, is his fatal flaw. Mentally, he had already declared you his, crowned you his consort, and created an entire life with you.

But the Lord of Dreams should know better than anyone that it does no good to dwell on dreams, for they are nothing but fantasy and can lead only to heartbreak.

“It appears that I was wrong in thinking that my feelings were reciprocated,” he says lowly, looking out at a carefully cultivated rose bush that is rapidly wilting. An icy wind begins to whip up, stripping the bush of its dead petals and sending them swirling off into the night.

Shock, raw and unfiltered, crosses your face. “Oh! You wanted…to kiss me?”

Morpheus pauses at this odd question, for he did not think you to be so obtuse. Did he not make it obvious that that was what he was intending? Are you attempting to shame him further? “Yes? I apologize, since you have made clear that you do not harbor the same affection for me as I do for you.” He has to grit his teeth to keep from spewing anything more vicious, though lightning cracks across the sky and says what he cannot.

“No! I mean yes. I mean–” You take a breath and shake your head as though you’re trying to physically clear your thoughts. “Sorry. It’s just that I’ve never…been kissed. Before.”

The bad weather, which had been threatening since the moment he realized that he was wrong and tried desperately to hide the devastation that was threatening to overtake him, dies down so suddenly that it could have been turned off by some unseen entity hitting a switch.

“What.” It is certainly not proper of Morpheus to sound so shocked, especially when it’s regarding a topic that you are so clearly embarrassed about. But he simply cannot believe that someone like you, someone so delightful and open, so empathetic and, well, attractive, has never experienced intimacy from another before.

“I know, it’s super lame. People just…haven’t ever liked me in that way?” You shrug and add, “Just haven’t found the right person yet,” in a way that sounds so self-deprecating that it must be a line you’ve heard many times before.

“So you have never…”

You shake your head and look away in embarrassment. “No hand holding, no kissing, no dating. Nothing. Sorry to disappoint.”

It goes unsaid what else you haven’t done if those simple, basic acts of romance have been devoid from your life. From the way you brace yourself, you’re obviously expecting him to react negatively to the news, and he assumes that this is from experience. Instead, Morpheus finds that he does not mind in the slightest. No, this piece of information is…rather titillating, actually.

(Perhaps it’s the fact that this means you’re largely untouched by anyone, but specifically mortals, whom Morpheus has seen the worst of for over a hundred years. The filth of humanity has yet to mar you in such an intimate manner. Prior to today, Morpheus didn’t think that he had an innocence kink. Now? He’s starting to see why the gods and goddesses of old so favored virgins.)

He files this revelation away to be revisited later, when he can hope to be in complete control of his emotions and not have them divided by having the object of his affection standing right in front of him.

“I do not find myself disappointed,” he says.

Your eyes meet his once more, and he can see the hope you hold. “You don’t?”

He shakes his head. “It is not your fault that others have failed to properly see the magnificence standing before them.”

‘Magnificent’ does not even come close to doing any justice in describing you, Morpheus feels, but it will do for now.

“Morpheus,” you admonish half-heartedly and bashfully. You are obviously not used to receiving such compliments, which is precisely why Morpheus is now determined to make sure that you shall never go a day without hearing one.

“Would you be interested in such things with me?” Things, of course, being the list of activities you have never partaken in.

Slowly, a smile spreads on your face. “Really? You like me like that?”

Your naïvete is truly endearing. “I do. Am I correct in hoping that you feel the same?”

“Yeah. You’d be correct.”

“Then might I bestow upon you your first kiss?”

Somehow, your smile widens, and you nod. “I’d like that.”

Morpheus again leans towards you, but this time, his actions are reciprocated. Your lips against his are soft and a little clumsy against his, which is to be expected from someone who has absolutely no experience. The entire time, he can feel the way that you’re trying, and failing, to keep yourself from smiling.

It is by no means the best kiss that Morpheus has ever had. Yet, it will likely remain one of his most fond memories of such an action.

When you pull away, you’re giggling almost giddily. “That was really good,” you praise, as though discussing a book or a meal. It’s simultaneously not at all and exactly what Morpheus was expecting from you, and he can practically feel himself falling further for you.

Tonight will not be the night that he espouses his love for you. He will not whisper promises of the universe against your skin, and he will not whisk you away to his chambers so that he may properly ravish you. Instead, this relationship will be…slow. Although that is not something that Morpheus is used to, something that he’s familiar with, he finds that he is alright with the concept of taking things slow, so long as it is with you.

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