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themidnightcrimson · 1 year

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tinseltown ࿏ wm

summary: in which you are drawn to an old movie theater playing an 80s sitcom called wandavision.

words: 4.8K

warnings: fear, horror, manipulation, mind control, oh how i wish this happened to me, no smut surprisingly, straight outta goosebumps episode

this post should be read with discretion.

masterlist.

It was almost summer.

The last cool breezes of spring strung their chilly tendrils throughout the air, desperate to hold on, desperate to provide relief before the blazing sun and suffocating humidity took its hold over the town. When the sun went down, spring was back in full swing again, offering its comfortable air and soft winds that refreshed your lungs as you walked downtown.

The night was quiet and desolate. There weren’t many people on the streets, though usually the streets are still crowded even in that late hour of the night. You passed by shops and markets who kept their lights on though they were closed. You peered into the window of a drugstore as you passed, seeing the eerie stillness of the empty store as its lights flickered over the rows of products, no clerks standing at the counters.

Even the roads were relatively empty save for the occasional passing car that drove smoothly down the road, as if relaxed to be free from the usual traffic that prevented the driver from soaking in the beauty of the historic downtown of your city. When a car was not passing, the only evidence of the town being alive was the interval change of the redlights going from red to green, to yellow, then back to red again as its adjacent constituent followed the same pattern.

You stuffed your hands into your pockets as you walked. Recently, you have been suffering bouts of insomnia. You wake in your bed in the middle of the night, sweating, restless, panting, desperate to break out of your apartment and get out into the fresh air. It had become a routine. You try to go to sleep early, wake up in the middle of the night, and find your apartment lacking oxygen, throwing on the nearest pair of shoes and proper clothes you can find before heading out to walk the streets.

Tonight, you were extra antsy and reluctant to go back home. Usually, you walked around the corner of your apartment building and up six blocks until you passed the drugstore. You would cross the street, an easy feat due to the empty roads, and walk back down the six blocks, cross the street again, and turn the corner to your apartment to head back inside. Usually, you feel relaxed enough after that to go to sleep for the remainder of the night. Tonight, you didn’t cross the street. You kept going after the sixth block, after you passed the drugstore.

Hearing no car around, you didn’t bother waiting for the crosswalk to signal for you to walk. You stepped right onto the row of lines and crossed the street, until suddenly headlights were flashing into your eyes and a loud honk made you jump and freeze.

“Hey!” someone yelled, and you turned your face to see that a car’s bumper was inches away from your knees, the yellow headlights blaring into your face and blinding you from seeing the driver who was sticking his head out of the window and yelling at you.

“Sorry,” you murmured and skipped out of the way to the other side of the street. Once your feet hit the sidewalk again, you turned to watch the car zoom past the greenlight angrily. You hadn’t even seen the car coming.

Wiping your face that was hot now from the adrenaline of nearly getting hit by a car, you stuffed your hands back into your pockets and kept walking, now feeling much farther from being able to relax and sleep.

You needed to go back to your apartment, as much as you hated to. You were obviously getting delirious from lack of sleep and were going to get yourself killed—you hadn’t even seen a car driving towards you as you crossed the street. Even if it meant just sitting up all night on the couch watching TV, you would be safe back home and not endanger yourself or others.

So, after the next block, you turned the corner and decided to walk down the other street. It would put you farther from your apartment, meaning you would have to cross two blocks to get back, but you didn’t mind. Maybe a change of scenery would intrigue you enough to soothe your racing mind. You noticed that this side of the block was darker than the other side. The shop owners did not leave their lights on, as the other block did. Every building and store was entirely dark, and the only thing that lit your path was the orange flickering streetlights and the full moon hanging above the sky like an animated sticker.

As you realized that there was no chance of you getting sleepy enough to go back to sleep, you noticed something sparkling down the block, too far away for you to see what it was, but close enough for you to see green and purple lights and the dazzling white sign in cursive letters you could not read from so far away.

“Huh,” you murmured to yourself, casting a glance around the block and seeing not a soul in sight. You found it odd that there was only one building not cast in total darkness, thinking that maybe it was some nightclub. It was a bad part of town to put a nightclub, since it was so empty here tonight, and you wondered if it was just recently established. You had never seen it before, though you have only walked this side of the block a few times since living in the city. There wasn’t much on this end except pawn shops and electronics repair and bail bonds and a dingy fitness gym.

As you walked on the other side of the street and came closer to the dazzling building, you could finally read the big sign across the front.

Tinseltown.

A movie theater, you realized—one that stayed open all night, apparently. How had you never known that you lived a few blocks away from a movie theater? You didn’t recall ever seeing it on the maps, nor hearing people speak of it, nor noticing it on your occasional walks through this street.

As you came closer and saw the retro way in which it was built, the cinema signs looking like they were straight out of the 90’s or 2000’s, you couldn’t convince yourself that this theater was so recently built, unless its purpose was to look old-school and vintage. It looked like the kinds of movie theaters that your parents might have taken to you when you were only a small child.

You stopped walking as you stood face-to-face with the theater across the street. There was still nobody around, not even the pigeons that usually pecked at the day’s crumbs on the sidewalk. The street was entirely lifeless, except for this movie theater whose LED stars sparkled and blinked invitingly.

Maybe a movie would calm your nerves—it looked open, besides the fact that there was no one around going in or out. Maybe sitting in a dark theater would soothe your nerves, get you sleepy enough to go home and finally sleep. Something was drawing it towards you—the bright lights, the buzzing noise of the electronics of its face, the bright purples and greens of its temple.

Why the hell not? You couldn’t remember the last time you had went to a movie theater, anyway. And this theater seemed to you like a little hidden gem in the neighborhood just waiting to be picked.

This time, you looked both ways before crossing the street. As you came near, you noticed that the breeze picked up, sending chills up your spine. You clutched your jacket closer to you and came towards the wide front doors, your hand touching the cold metal handle—was it buzzing under your palm? You pulled, and the door swung open with a squeak.

You stepped into the warm theater and found that the first room was the ticket center, booths lined up along the wall with two sets of doors on either end. You stepped up to the glass, pressed your nose close to the speaking hole and looked around.

There wasn’t a single worker in the booths. There were no noises besides the whooshing sound of old central air conditioning coming through the dusty vents. “Hello?” you called, wondering if someone would come through the back.

Not a sound, not a soul.

Maybe the workers were further inside, you thought. Maybe the theater was brand new and still understaffed, so they sold tickets inside where you could get concessions simultaneously, reducing the effort of labor.

You pushed through the swinging doors and stepped into a much larger, well-lit room. The ceilings, floors, and walls were painted deep scarlet with golden designs. A large counter stood at the front of the room, a menu hanging on the wall. You could smell popcorn and looked to see a large golden popcorn machine behind the counter, humming as it popped fluffy kernels into the vessel below. You saw hot dogs roasting on a rotating spit. You saw rows of candies and drinks, and even an icee machine that hummed with life. The sounds and sights and smells of it all soothed you deeply, but still, you saw no one.

“Hello?!” you called more loudly, coming up to the counter and peering past it. “Um,” you began, “I’m here to see a movie.” You looked at the popcorn machine and the buttery, golden fluffs, your mouth watering. “And maybe get some popcorn.”

Is this place even open? Surely it would be, since it was unlocked and lit up and had the machines going.

Then, you heard a noise coming from deeper in the building. Your eyes turned towards the noise—a wide hallway to the right. You heard the distant sounds of people talking, of laughter. Your stomach, which had started to knot, soothed as you felt relief at the evidence of people. Maybe the graveyard shift was still a little unexperienced and expected no one to come in this late at night and were all huddled somewhere down the hallway in a break room.

Your feet led you toward the hallway, hesitantly leaving the delightful smell of the popcorn and candy. You came closer to the noise, to the sound of a woman’s voice, of a man’s, too. You look around the hallway and see the doors to theaters with the numbers written on a sign above them, along with what is playing in the theater—all the signs are blank, and the voices are not coming from them. You come to a jog, eager to find the workers so you don’t get in trouble for being there without a ticket.

Finally, near the end of the hallway, you can hear the muffled voices more clearly now, light flickering from the circle of glass on the theater door. You glance up—the sign says Theater #13, and below it, the title of what’s playing: Wandavision.

You’d never heard of that, and you wondered why the workers were watching a movie if they were supposed to be out in the front hall selling tickets. Carefully, you push through the swinging door, and you freeze.

The entire theater is empty, not a single soul sitting in the crowd of red seats facing the screen. The theater is entirely dark, except for the ray of light particles above your head projecting the film onto the screen; you look.

You see a woman on the screen, with fiery red curls, wearing a blue plaid shirt and jeans with suspenders. She is in a kitchen, picking up toys and putting them into a basket under her arm. You see the camera shift—a blonde man walks into the kitchen, looking distressed.

“You can’t do this again, Wanda,” he says in a refined, almost robotic voice. They start to argue—this looks like something from the 80’s, like some sort of sitcom rather than a film. How old was this theater?

With legs that suddenly feel wobbly, you step down the stairs and look around again. There’s evidently no one in the theater. Even as you glance up at the projector box high up on the wall, you don’t see anyone in the little room there either.

There is not a single soul in this entire movie theater.

You hesitated, considered. What would a worker say if they walked in and saw you watching the screen without a ticket? It wasn’t your fault that there was no one around. You would easily pay for a ticket right there if they asked you to. Surely, they would understand that you simply couldn’t find anyone, and that the seats were calling your name, and that suddenly you found yourself sitting down on a seat somewhere in the middle, red fabric scratching your fingers as you gripped the squeaking cushion and sat down, eyes stuck to the screen.

“Do you know how lonely it gets, Vision?” the woman with red hair, apparently named Wanda, asked the blonde man named Vision, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him. “You are hardly ever home. The kids have grown up—God, it feels like they were just born yesterday!” A laugh track of an audience plays, and your lips curl upwards at the comedy of it, though you didn’t get the joke. It definitely was an old sitcom—maybe they were still practicing using film rolls and were using this old TV show to test their machines. The quality of the show was grainy, a colorful little square box of images on a wider, more rectangular screen.

“Wanda,” Vision says, stepping closer to her and placing his hands on her shoulders, but she moves away from him. “You are abusing your authority. Your… powers.” Vision face tilts to the side towards the camera, and for a moment you thought his eyes looked right into the lens and at you, as if you were interrupting the conversation, before he turned back to Wanda. “Please don’t do this.”

Wanda only raises her eyebrows and smirks, a satisfied and amused look crossing her features. She was beautiful, really. You didn’t recognize her as an actress, nor him, but the green in her eyes and red on her lips, with her fiery hair and fierce cheekbones, mesmerized you.

“This conversation is over,” she whispered, and suddenly credits started rolling up the screen, listing the names of the directors and producers and actors over the image as an audience clapped in the background.

“What the hell,” you mumbled, disappointed that the show was ending right as you had just sat down to watch. Through the letters of the rolling credits, you saw Wanda turn away and walk through a door, Vision following after her.

“Wanda!” he exclaimed, trying to follow her through the door, but suddenly the picture was jagged on the screen. Your eyebrows sewed together in confusion as the image froze, of Vision just getting to the door, the credits flickering.

“What the…” you began, glancing up to the projector box. There were no more light particles in the air.

The image blinked and glitched in pixels of red, the image warping and the saturation fading as if it were melting right off the screen, only incoherent bits of audio glitching through the speakers before suddenly the screen went black, leaving the theater in complete and utter darkness and silence. It must have been an issue with the projector.

“Shitty movie theater,” you grumbled, throwing your head back on the seat. You got the sudden feeling that you should not be there, that you should leave immediately, that you were about to get in trouble.

You should just head back to your apartment, you thought to yourself. Stop running from your problems and lay down in your bed and just force yourself to go to sleep no matter what it takes. Do anything. Just get out of there.

As you stood to leave, a light emerged from the screen. You froze, looking at the screen to see that the projector was working again, that the show was back on. Only this time, the blonde man named Vision was not there, and Wanda was in a living room right now, sitting on a couch and staring right into the camera with an eerie half-smile. You felt the shock of the fourth wall breaking.

You blinked—why was she staring into the camera, making it seem as if she was looking right at you? What kind of a show was this?

“Where do you think you’re going?” she spoke languidly, her voice echoing through the large, empty, dark theater. A hot fire of fear rose up through your chest, alighting your nerves.

Was this another one of your insomniac episodes, like when you didn’t see the car coming as you crossed the street? Was it the projector glitching again? Was it some strange joke within the show that you didn’t understand?

She was silent again, staring right through the screen with her lips curled into a subtle smile, hands resting on her jeans. On the screen, on the projection, she was ten times larger than you, like some sort of purveying giant watching the theater with catlike, observant eyes.

You looked around the theater again, now hoping to see a worker, but there still was no one.

“I’m talking to you,” Wanda spoke, the ends of her words curling up like crumpled paper, the edge of a foreign accent. “Yes, you.” She tilted her head patronizingly, her voice lilting. “The girl with the jacket and the sleepy look on her face.”

Your hands in your jacket pockets started to sweat. There were no other people in the theater, and you were a girl, wearing a jacket, donning perpetual dark circles under your eyes. You opened your mouth to say something but stopped, feeling stupid for the urge to talk back to a TV show. But how did she know? Was it a joke? Was the theater playing a prank on you using the magic of technology?

“Come closer,” she said, whispering. “I want to get a better look at you.” You only stood there in the row, lips agape, eyes widening and moistening with fear. She stared at you expectantly—what were you supposed to do? You were curious about this, albeit terrified.

With unsteady feet, you stepped out of the row and onto the center aisle, taking a few steps downward, closer to the screen. Her eyes squinted and followed your figure.

“Oh,” she said, her smile turning into a wide, pearly grin. “You are a pretty one.”

A pretty one?

“Why don’t you tell me your name?”

This would be the final evidence of whether this was real or not. If this was some pre-recorded clip, some kind of uncanny coincidence, there was no way you could reason its unreality if she said your name.

“Y/n,’ you murmured.

She leaned forward, turning her head and cupping her ear. “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

Your mouth was dry as you licked your lips and said louder, “Y/n.”

She leaned away and grinned. “That’s a pretty name, y/n.”

Horror sparked within you, your feet stumbling backwards as you gasped. All the hairs on your neck stood up on their ends, and you finally listened to your instinct telling you to run. Grabbing at the railing, you sprinted up the stairs towards the door, only inches from grabbing the handle when a sudden wall of red energy bolted itself against the wall. You stopped, staring at the strange red energy that buzzed and circulated within itself as if it were alive. You reached out—fingertips met the wall of red and zapped you, sending you stumbling back down the stairs.

Wanda’s voice was louder and deeper now through the speakers. You stared up at the screen as she stood up, smile fading, camera following her to focus on her face. “You’re not going anywhere, detka.”

Shadows cast down on her face as you watched her green eyes swirl into vermilion orbs, her hand lifting and reaching forward, that same red energy swirling around her fingers. You watched her fingers, so close to the camera that they were blurred, make a gesturing motion. Red energy jumped through the screen and wrapped around your ankles like a rope, pulling you down to the ground harshly.

A scream left your throat as the magic started dragging you by your ankles towards the screen. You grabbed at a railing to catch yourself, but the magic was too strong. The metal railing slipped from your sweaty palms and sent you off again, down the long center aisle, the stairs bruising your body as you turned onto your back and flailed, reaching for anything but finding nothing. You were dragged closer and closer to the screen, and when you expected your feet to rip through the paper, instead a red orb opened and swallowed you whole.

Hot energy surged through you, and you felt things moving on your body, moving within you, the air getting hot and cold and then there was no air at all, a loud buzzing sound piercing your eardrums, redness blinding you, until suddenly you felt the feeling of cold wood on your face. Catching your breath, you laid your palms flat on the wooden floor and lifted yourself up.

Blinking, your vision cleared, and you looked around the room you were in. It was a house, a living room—the same one that the redheaded woman was in on the TV show. You were lying on the floor in front of the couch as if you had just fell off it, and as you raised your head, you saw her sitting there.

The redhead named Wanda, who had just been a projected image on the movie screen, was sitting on the couch right in front of you, now proportioned to real life.

“This isn’t real,” you whispered, grabbing at your face and scratching to wake yourself up. Surely this was a dream, a nightmare. Maybe you never left your apartment at all, never walked past the six blocks and the drugstore, never stepped into the theater. Maybe you had fallen asleep that night and were having this horrific nightmare safe in your bed.

“Oh, it’s all real,” Wanda said, glancing around the living room with a proud smile. “Down to the details.”

You could feel the wooden floor under your hands and knees. Her voice was clear in your ears. You smelled the lingering smell of dinner having been made just hours before. You heard an engine—looked outside a near window to see a neighbor mowing the lawn, and another neighbor with long black hair and a purple sweater clipping the hedge bushes, discreetly looking towards the window.

You moved your hand outwards to touch the coffee table—it was real. You swiveled your head around to where you had fallen through, expecting to see the other side of the screen, but you only saw the other side of the room. It was all dimensional now, all real right in front of you. You were not dreaming.

“Let me go,” you said, clumsily getting to your feet. “Please.”

Wanda smiled and stood from the couch, stepping towards you. You took a step away. “I’m afraid I cannot do that, y/n. It’s a one-way street, as they say.”

You turned in a circle, trying to find the movie screen again, the red seats, the golden popcorn machine. There was nothing but this unknown house you were standing in.

“The man,” you said, turning to look at her again, feeling yourself dwindling down. “Vision,” you remembered, thinking back to their conversation before the screen had glitched. He was asking her, pleading her, to not do something. You remembered the way he nearly looked at you. Maybe he could help you. “Where is he?”

Wanda laughed, her voice ringing eerily in your ears. You were still having trouble realizing that she was real, until she reached forward and snaked a hand on your shoulder, her touch warming your skin there. “Oh, he went out of town,” she said, holding back her strange laughter. “Don’t know when he’ll be back.” Her laughter ceased, smile fading as she stared at you.

You tried to step away from her touch, but her hand squeezed your shoulder. “Wanda,” you said, and it sounded strange saying the name of this woman you didn’t even know, who had only been a character just moments before. “What is this?”

She blinked and creased her brows. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Where am I?” you demanded. “I was just in the movie theater—Tinseltown.” You tried to remember walking into the theater, seeing its dazzling sign from across the street, but your brain could not conjure the memories. You froze, feeling fog fill your mind. Why couldn’t you remember walking in? It was all fading fast from you now. “And you…” you trailed, trying to catch onto the memories of your last few moments before you were pulled into the screen, but you couldn’t. “You…”

“Oh, honey,” Wanda cooed, placing her hands on either side of your face, grinning at the confused look on your features. “You must have had a bad dream.”

A bad dream is what it felt like to you. You wanted to ask her how she pulled you right into the TV show, right through the screen with that buzzing crimson magic roped around your ankles, but it was gone from your mind now. All of it was. All you remembered was standing up from the wooden floor and touching the coffee table. Did you fall asleep on that floor? Had a bad dream, like she said?

You didn’t know that the Tinseltown theater was closed during the day. It was closed because, under the sunlight, around the swarms of people, it was a fitness gym, filled with weights and machines and sweaty people. During the night, under the stars and the full moon, it transfigured into the Tinseltown theater, empty and luring with its flashing lights, inviting any stranger in, never letting any of them out.

You didn’t know that the neighbors you saw out the window of that house had once walked into Tinseltown, curious about the retro theater with not a soul in sight. They had once walked that same block, wondering why they didn’t see anyone around, why they had never seen that theater before, why it was totally empty, why the only thing playing was a TV show called Wandavision. They never left the theater. They were residents of Westview now, the population built from the number of individuals who were lured into Wanda’s trapping illusion. Once Wanda pulled them through the screen, they forgot who they were, what life they lived before, where they came from.

You didn’t know that the reason you didn’t see any other people on the streets that night was because Wanda’s reach left you blind, made you see what she wanted you to see, made you do what she wanted you to do. In reality, the theater was still a fitness gym at night. When you stood across the street, the dazzling lights you stared at was actually the dark face of the closed gym. When you walked in, the ticket counter was just a service center. The popcorn machine, the candy, the hot dogs, none of it was there. You were only staring at stacks of weights and metal machines in the dark, empty gym.

You had fallen for her hex.

“Come, detka,” she whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead and holding you in her arms. Suddenly, you no longer remembered your apartment or your friends or your parents. You only remembered living there with Wanda as her lover and wife, raising Billy and Tommy with her, leading a simple, calm life in Westview suburbia. Your life built up behind your eyes, constructed by the vermilion flare in Wanda’s fingertips.

Wanda’s lips kissed down your cheek as you remembered these things, as if her lips were pressing the memories into your skin. She kissed the corners of your mouth, then her lips melted against yours. Her lips moved to your jaw, your neck, behind your ear, encasing you in a familiar lust that it seemed you had known all your life. “Come to bed,” she whispered, and you did, not seeing the devilish, malignant grin on her face.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #marvel #lgbt #horror #dark!fic #wanda maximoff x f!reader

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ink-n-shadowfiction · 9 months

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Gone Bad | Simon "Ghost" Riley

pairing: mafia!Simon "Ghost" Riley x police officer's daughter!reader

word count: 770

warning: alternative universe, mentions of police, tw! for creepy guy, allusion to dark!ghost (only if you squint)

note: new au, new ideas (don't hesitate to send me requests <;3)

⤷ ever since you were a little kid, your dad was a member of the police force in manchester. you were a daddy’s girl through and through. hell, you wanted to be just like him when you were little—catching bad guys and keeping people safe.

⤷ but something shifted when you were a teenager—and suddenly, the daddy’s good little girl was gone. you were sneaking out, partying with friends, skipping school to go smoke cigarettes underneath the crumbling cobblestone bridge by your secondary school.

⤷ it only got worse once you graduated and enrolled in university. this time, though, you weren’t under your father’s thumb anymore. you were in your flat, with your own roommates, doing whatever you wanted to do. that’s how you found yourself in some dingy new pub that opened up in the city.

⤷ you had dipped outside of the pub for a quick cigarette, stepping into a dimly lit alleyway and leaning against the cobbled wall to puff away at the tobacco stick. it was almost peaceful—that was until a group of drunken men stumbled by and one of them took a liking to you.

⤷ “aye, pretty thing. y’look lonely standing there all by yourself. mind if i join you? take a little puff of that cig?”

⤷ you tried to come up with some sort of excuse, eyes frantically searching for a way out—but the alleyway you were in was a dead end. the lit cigarette fell from your trembling hand, rolling across the wet asphalt. you thought you were goner until you heard an exit door from the pub behind you screech open, a hard voice rumbling like a thunder storm.

⤷ “what the fuck’s goin’ on out here? you botherin’ this girl, eh? at my fuckin’ pub? get the fuck out of here before i bury you underneath the concrete you're standin' on.”

⤷ you caught your breath as the man harassing you scrambled off quickly, turning your head to see who the gravelly voice belonged to. he was a looming figure, dressed in a steam-pressed three piece suit and tie along with shiny leather oxfords. his fingers were covered in tattoos and rings, his neck adorning two thick silver chains. His face, however, was obscured by a black mask with a slick skull face attached to the front. he looked menacing. the gun holstered to his hip didn’t help.

⤷ “you didn’t have to—”

⤷ “don’t sit there and tell me you would’ve handled it. that fucker would’ve torn you to bits if i hadn’t stepped in, lovie. too prideful to say thank you?”

⤷ having lived in manchester all your life, having listened to your father’s rants about the organized crime running rampant in the streets, you knew exactly who the man in front of you that night was: ghost, the faceless leader of the organized crime syndicate which ran manchester under an iron fist. you should’ve expected him to be here—this was his pub, after all.

⤷ you couldn't speak, but that was alright. ghost didn't mind—he was used to people keeping queit about him. that's why he felt so comfortable leaning against the wall of the alleyway, balancing a cigarette between his lips and igniting the paper.

⤷ "next time you're at my pub, make sure you stay with a friend. pretty little things like you have a tendency to get snatched up right quick out here. can't guarantee i'll be here to save you next time, lovie."

⤷ but after that night, ghost seemed to always be there to save the day. your car breaks down on the side of the road during rush hour traffic? ghost's suv just so happens to pull up behind you. you get a little too drunk out at his pub one night? ghost has one of his men drive you and your friends home. you know deep down that it's way past just coincidences now—but that added to the thrill of it, to the taboo nature of it all.

⤷ other than that, ghost might as well have been a figment of your imagination. he never gave you a phone number, never told you an address, never really stuck around much after helping you out time after time. he was almost unreal until he came out from the shadows. it took almost an entire year before ghost finally asked you to get drinks with him.

⤷ "c'mon—you gotta say yes. y'know how rare it is for me to ask a girl for drinks? usually, the girls come crawlin' to me. not you, though. that's what i like about you, lovie."

#mafia!ghost ☠#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley smut #call of duty smut #call of duty #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod x reader

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orbitariums · 5 months

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home this christmas | carmen berzatto x black reader smut

happy christmas! wrote this in a pinch, hope u love

also, all my steve rogers fic readers— what say i finish up girls on film over winter break? just for shits and giggles. enjoy!

the drive to your family’s heirloom brownstone in brooklyn was almost impossible as you and carmy took turns navigating the snowy roads and the panic attack that was new york traffic during the holidays. it would’ve been absolute agony if you weren’t right by your lover’s side and didn’t have tons of r&b christmas classics blasting through the entire time. at the first hotel, the two of you were too exhausted to even talk to each other, but carmen’s arm still found its way around your waist like something of an unconscious mechanism. you had to smuggle yourself free in the morning. by the morning, the two of you were determined to finish up the four-hour drive and make it home for christmas.

no time for rest though. the minute you and carmy stepped in, you were bombarded with the sound of luther vandross belting christmas classics. the smell of good cooking — candied yams, sweet potatoes, collard greens, and glazed ham- overwhelmed your senses. any tension that had built up on the road was immediately released the moment you walked in, carmy holding a huge crate of ingredients that he would use to make chicken piccata.

“cuzzo!” squealed janae, your favorite girl cousin, and a recent howard u grad, as she ran up with her arms opened wide like a snow angel etched into the snow.

“hey boo,” you grinned, basking in the warmth of her hug. you held on for so long— halfway through today’s trip, carmy’s car heat stopped working and the both of you had to opt for multiple blankets and layering up in all the coats and scarves you could find, plus whatever slightly warming object was in the back of his trunk.

“hi baby, hi carmen. merry christmas!,” your mother, hustling over to the sink with a large pot full of hot water cooed out.

“merry christmas, ms. __. so good to see you, can i help you with that?” carmen asked, setting down his crate and heading over to your mother, getting straight to business.

“carmen, you know to call me denise,” your mother nagged, waving her hand at carmen dismissively. “what i keep telling you about that?! you’re family. now leave me alone and ‘gon get started with your little chef shit over there.”

carmen smiled, that deep dimple sinking into his cheek that made you fall in love with him all over again each time you saw it.

“yes ma'am,” he relented.

“ooh, your man is so fine, yn,” your sister announced as she walked into the kitchen. “and a gentleman, but we been knew that. hey, carmy. it’s good to see you, boy.”

“yeah, good to see you, too. how’s uhh— how’s benny?”

your sister scoffed,

“stupid, as always. and he don’t even cook. hey, yn!”

your sister laughed and pulled you into a hug.

“home sweet home,” you grinned, jumping right into the business of the kitchen.

the rest of the day was chaos, but the kind you could only ever love. if anything, carmy preferred this chaos to that of his family’s thanksgiving and back home. this chaos felt organized and loving, not to mention hilarious. it took so long to convince your family that carmy could really cook, but once they finally met him just a few months before and he put down a peach pie like never before, they could not shut up about how fine and talented your man was, and how he was one of the good ones.

today, the same routine. this time, watching carmen cook for your family in your family home revved up a stir deep inside of you that would linger on your mind for the entire afternoon. everywhere you turned you couldn’t help but eye him — his big arms, littered with tattoos, flexing as he stirred a pot of mashed potatoes; the way his brow dug into his forehead with concentration as he definitively scattered parsley over the chicken; his tongue darting out to lick the side of his lip when he was focusing deeply on something.

for the first time in the past 24 hours, you were practically separated from carmy. he was focusing on his dish and tending to the demands of the practically all-female kitchen (no men were allowed, bar for carmy and your aunt’s husband), so he didn’t get to talk to you, doubly engrossed in your christmas dinner duties, much either. though the times that he could sneak away or had to pass by you, he reassured you with a light squeeze around your hips or a hand on the small of your pack as he got by you. unbeknownst to him, it was only feeding the stir that was increasing by the hour between your thighs, and polluting your mind with the most unholy thoughts.

the air was thick with flour, smoke, and the smell of a grand dinner by the time you all were finished cooking. while you let the food cool, you opened gifts. carmy had something for everyone in the family, even your baby cousins, nieces, and nephews. by the end of the gift opening, everyone had agreed that carmy was their new favorite.

“merry christmas, baby,” carmy muttered against your lips, pulling you in for the first kiss you had shared for a few hours now. he placed your gift in your lap.

“merry christmas,” you smiled against his lips, which tasted like sweet wine and marshmallows, as you pulled away.

“c’mon now, what’d he get you?” your aunt hollered from her seat, clapping her hands together joyfully.

you grinned, sloughing away the paper, which was wrapped to perfection, just like everything carmy dared touch. you nearly squealed when you saw the box: black and white with big bold letters: chanel.

“baby, you did not,” you whined, frowning as you looked over at carmen. again that dimple reappeared and it took you everything not to jump his bones. he stroked his hand with his chin in that pensive way of his, his smile sheepish and yet smug.

“open it.”

you opened it slowly as if you were scared. then you practically tore it out of the box when you saw just what it was — the metallic pink chanel bag you had liked just once on instagram, posting it on your story with the caption “need.” you didn’t expect anything to come of that, and yet, here carmy was, going above and beyond to keep up with your expensive and exquisite taste. you couldn’t help but screech in excitement, waving the bag in the air while you stuck your tongue out.

“y’all look what my man got me!”

“my man, my man, my man,” some of your cousins echoed, humored, in the background.

the entire living room practically erupted with noises of affirmation and disbelief from your family.

“girl, let me hold that for you!” your cousin janae pleaded jokingly.

you broke out into a little dance on the couch, ending it with another kiss planted on carmy’s lips, pulling away with a loud smacking noise.

“you really didn’t have to, baby. i love you.”

“i love you. that’s why i did it,” carmy grinned, his eyes boring deep into yours, promising his love to you.

“i just know that’s right,” your mother called out.

dinner was active and loud, as always. carmen’s chicken piccata barely lasted, and folks were starting to compare it to your aunt’s famous fried chicken, but carmy shut that down immediately.

“nah, don’t get me in trouble,” he smirked, holding the plate you had made for him.

there was something so indescribably sexy about watching him just standing there. that he was so easily integrated with your family, so helpful, and charming enough to please your own mother and father had you weak in the knees. not to mention the insane gift. he told you he’d been saving up for a few months ever since he saw you post that, and that only made your heart melt more.

when carmy wasn’t so in his own head, he was a man of true, deep intention. you were the one who brought him back to homeostasis, to equilibrium. his mental state seemed to clear of all the “bad shit” when he laid his head on your chest, on your lap, your hands figuring their way through the ringlets of his curly hair.

“yeah, don’t get him in trouble,” the aunt in question echoed as she walked past.

“don’t worry aunty, i still like your fried chicken better. sorry baby,” you awarded carmy an apologetic kiss on the lips. “but i stand on my shit.”

“as you should,” carmen nodded, an amused smirk playing on his lips. “you like other things about me better though, yeah?”

that last part came as a low murmur against your ear, his lips just barely brushing against the lobe. the words, in tandem with his warm, familiar breath fanning against your neck, made you squeeze your legs together involuntarily. you could practically taste the wine on his lips and it made you dizzy. the stir that had been brewing inside of you for an entire day now was now changing pace, becoming quicker, more violent. if you didn’t fulfill your needs soon, you’d overflow.

you smiled to save face in front of your family, squeezing carmen’s hand as if to say “later.” but god, later couldn’t come fast enough.

the rest of the night you were glued to carmen, practically hip to hip. you sat on his lap while your family talked around the tree, and he made sure his hands caressed your thighs ever so softly, just enough to keep you reeling from his trickling touch. you wanted him to squeeze, wanted him to sink his palms into you and then some.

it wasn’t until nearly midnight that people started to pile out, and only then did you find it appropriate to head upstairs with carmen, bidding adieu to your family.

“aww, it was so good to see you yn, and you, carmen. what a blessing you’ve been to this family,” crooned one of your aunts as she also made her way out the door.

“blessed to be here. thank you guys for welcoming me, seriously. i couldn’t be luckier, holy shit. excuse my language,” carmen rambled,

the words spilled out with ease because of the wine and because he genuinely felt this way. his whole life, he’d been blessed with found family, reminding him that sometimes water could be just as thick as blood. and when you came with the package? he’d never let go.

people began to peeter out late into the night, and by the time everyone was gone, only then was it appropriate for you to bring carmy upstairs to get ready for bed.

both you and carmy spilled out a few more jokes and goodbyes before you took carmy by the hand and led him upstairs. as you were walking up there, it hit you that it was his first time being in your childhood room. you only ever stayed here when you were visiting, so it still had a very y2k theme to it that you hadn’t changed since high school. a poster of lil kim with her legs spread was plastered on your walls, along with nsync, backstreet boys, and a couple other 90s-2000s classics. you still had a half-used bottle of juicy couture viva perfume on your desk, the bow wrapped prettily around the cap.

“oh shit, it’s been a while,” you chuckled.

carmen was taking it all in, looking around with a thoughtful grin etched across his lips.

“always been a fashion girl, huh?” he prodded you.

“oh forever.”

you sidled up in front of him, so close you could feel him up against you.

“you were amazing today,” you reached up to kiss him as he towered over you, in height and energy. a soft, wet kiss that left carmy wanting more. so much so that he unconsciously wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you in even closer.

“yeah?”

“yes. i love watching you with my family. and with the kids, you just…”

“y’know, when i was cooking i kept feeling eyes on the back of my neck. any idea who that could’ve been?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow up as he gazed down at you.

you shook your head knowingly, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, returning his gaze tenfold.

“no,” you replied, your voice sweet like honeydew and so, so telling.

“fuck,” carmy’s gaze seemed to deepen as his lids sunk lower, drinking in the sight of you. “don’t look at me like that, baby.”

he started to pull you closer towards him, back and back and back until you were plopped down on his bed. his legs, wide and bulky, forced you to spread yours over his lap, welcoming his thighs into a straddle.

“like what?” you asked, your eyes twinkling as you looked down at him and he looked up at you, his hands roaming your thighs freely, like an expanse of land that was entirely his property.

“like that, like you’re gonna make me do something you’ll regret.”

“regret? how could i ever regret anything you do to me, baby?” you questioned with a very intentional roll of your hips against him. you felt him grow, blossoming against your own crotch, which made you moan quietly.

“if you’re loud enough—” carmy punctuated his words with a kiss against your neck as his hands went to take off your shirt. you lifted your arms up and your shirt came sliding off, your skin exposed to the cool air. “you just might regret it.”

carmy kissed the side of your neck, eliciting a quiet huff of pleasure from your lips. you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the pleasure. his fingers danced delicately against your bare sides until finally, he rested the whole of his palms against your body, easing them up and down like he was smoothing you out.

“mm, i’ll be quiet, daddy,” you hummed, arching your back just so, his hand connecting with the small of your back and fitting right in.

“take your pants off,” he commanded quietly, his eyes practically closed as he studied you with heavy lids. the exhaustion certainly didn’t assist the horny daze he was sinking deeper into, tired and full of lustful thoughts that seemed to weigh him down.

“only if you take your clothes off too, carmy,” you whined, but you shimmied out of your pants anyway, watching him with hungry puppy-dog eyes while he did the same, yanking off his shirt, belt, and pants and throwing them halfway across the room.

“and your bra, too,” carmy said softly, his words coming out delicate like petals falling off a flower. he was completely focused on one thing, and it was you— nothing else mattered, nothing else existed. time moved slow when he watched you like this.

you started unhooking it, then carmy’s hands flung to your clasp to help you, removing it in record time and throwing it across the room. you opened your mouth to make a joke, but you were immediately silenced when his lips attached hungrily to your breast, closing in on the fat surrounding the small of your nipple while the other hand grasped onto the other.

you whined quietly and started to roll your hips against carmy even more now, grinding deep against his crotch which was covered by his boxers. you could practically feel him poking inside of you, lubricating your pussy even more than it already was.

“carmy,” you whined. “can feel you.”

“mhm?” he hummed brokenly, his breaths heavy and dysregulated. you were so warm, sharing in each other’s heat, in the still dark of your bedroom. the sheets all done up, practically untouched. he pulled away from your breast, unlatching with a soft pop of his lips. his hand replaced his mouth, feeling the warm trail that his lips left. “can feel you too, sweetheart.”

he let his hand drift down to your crotch, cupping you over your underwear, which had a big wet spot in the center.

“yeah, that’s what i feel. you’re so fucking wet, honey,” he crooned into your ear, making sure his lips brushed against your earlobe before he traveled down to kiss on your neck some more, sending shivers down your spine that made you buck your hips involuntarily into his hand. carmy chuckled that dark, smug chuckle that made you hate him and want to ride him all the same. the kind that only came out when you were being desperate— when he had control over you and not the other way around. “what’re you doing, baby? go slow, yeah? be patient.”

he made a wreck of you, obliging you anyway by circling a finger against your clit through your panties, feeling the way your slick seemed to pool endlessly at his touch. wanting to feel it on your skin.

“shut up, carmy, fuck!” you moaned quietly, your arms wrapped around his neck for balance.

he played with you just a little more, wondering just how far he could take it until your quiet moans turned into pleading whimpers, until he made you start to beg just for his fingers, so that by the time he sat you down on his lap, letting you sink all the way down onto his cock, you had no more voice to beg. that was on his mind, and yet, in his tired, sex-drunk haze, he knew to give you what you wanted now, before you went and turned the whole house into a personal fuckfest.

still, he couldn’t help but tease just once more.

“it’s christmas, honey. what’re we doing?”

“i don’t care,” you huffed. “it’s practically tomorrow, it’s like 11:30.”

carmen nearly snorted,

“need it that bad?”

you didn’t reply, and so he asked you again, this time with a kiss of his lips against your neck, sucking and attaching firmly to the sweet, soft skin there, and with his fingers, pulling down your underwear. slick sounds filling the air as it detached from your wet core, a trail of your arousal in between the cloth and your heat.

“hm?” carmy hummed, letting his fingers dance along your slit, ever so gently and delicately, like they were trailing up your entire being.

“god, y-yes, carmy. need it, need you. please,” you whimpered, muffled as you buried your head into the crook of his neck, lurching into him like you were surrendering, a natural lull you didn’t even realize you gave into every time without fail. full disregard, letting him take over, letting yourself let go.

“need my fingers inside you, yeah?” carmy panted, finding it hard to control himself.

all he wanted was to be sheathed fully inside of you, whether that meant twisting you open with his fingers, lapping you up with his tongue, or fucking his cum into you as deeply (and quietly) as he could. he obliged, slipping one finger inside with such gleeful ease, feeling the digit get soaked in your arousal.

you gasped sharply, lurching forward involuntarily. carmy brought you back down with another hand wrapped firm around your waist.

“no no no, stay right there. and answer me, what do you need?”

“need you carmy, need your fingers, please, another,” you nearly cried out, your voice going up an octave just to beg. perhaps carmen’s favorite sound from your lips, and it didn’t even sound like yourself— it sounded like someone who was forced into impenetrable bliss and didn’t have a vessel to express it, just the voice.

“okay, okay, sweetheart,” he was sweet and giving, so generous, so dazed and yet still so in charge. dipping another finger into your slick, wet heat and burying his fingers to the hilt inside of you, causing you to squeak out. “fuck, gotta be quiet, honey.”

“yes, yes, i’m sorry,” you scrambled to apologize, which only made him want you more. hungry, he grunted, jerking his hips up to feel something, anything. your hands flew to his crotch, palming him over his boxers, but he gently pulled your hand away.

“don’t worry about me, baby. don’t worry. gonna have you bouncing on my cock in a minute, just wait. wanna make you feel good first,” he assured you, and in your haze, you nodded agreeably, eyes screwed shut with pleasure.

he moved, slowly, so you could feel his fingers sliding against your walls. you threw your head back, a muffled noise of pleasure escaping from your throat. he kept his eyes on you, unblinking, pumping in slow and controlled one, two times, then he picked up the pace, and with it, you got wetter, slicker, soaking his fingers and his thighs.

your breath caught in your throat, you couldn’t even make any noise. just stilted from the pleasure that you felt, feeling it burn and rev in your stomach— that slow, churning stir back again, working towards completion. all you could hear was your slick as carmy fucked his fingers in and out of you, fast and dangerously deep, hitting every single spot inside of you because his fingers were so thick. carmy’s eyes glanced down for a minute to see his fingers disappearing inside of you like they fucking belonged there, like they were supposed to be inside of you, making you so wet that it was all you could hear. he watched as your arousal painted your mound and spread across your thighs, breathing out heavily in disbelief. he started to fuck his fingers into you faster now, and you whimpered in a pitch he’d never heard from you before. with his other hand, he assisted you in bouncing your hips at the same pace as his fingers. the room was filled with the sounds of squelching as his fingers fucked in and out of you, carrying along your slick with it.

“fuck, you’re so fucking wet. your pussy’s so fucking loud, baby, you must feel so good, huh? feels so good? don’t wanna wake anybody up, do you?” he was delirious, saying whatever came to his mind, his grip on your hip tight and his fingers wrecking you at such a torturous pace.

“mm-mm, mm-mm,” you cried, rocking your hips against his hands and damn near taking his knuckles— his interjections of “such a pretty wet pussy” and “you’re doing so good for me, you sound so fucking good, baby” brought you to your high, and you rode it out whale bouncing your hips up and down. legs shaking and thighs trembling as you tightened around his fingers, releasing all over him. your voice a muddled mess as you cried out. “fuck, carmy, i’m coming. i’m coming.”

“fuck,” carmen said through gritted teeth, his cock jumping in his boxers. “fuck, you’re so good. you’re so fucking good, yn, that’s it. that’s it sweetheart.”

you whimpered as you came, his fingers still deep inside of you and thrusting while you rode it out/

“i know, i know,” he muttered reassuringly, letting you get yours and then pulling his fingers out softly, resting his head against your rising and falling chest.

his hands returned to a smooth, kind roam as he let you catch your breath, touching every part of you to comfort you. when you had found your basis again, you sighed lovingly and wrapped your hands around carmen’s neck, pressing your forehead against his and gazing into his eyes.

a soft smile tugging at your lips, you whispered,

“i love you, bear. wanted to be around you all day, even after spending two days straight with you. still wanted you.”

“i always want you,” he replied without skipping a beat. he lifted his head up to kiss you. “and i love you too. if we can survive a twelve-hour road trip we can survive anything.”

“shit, if we can survive christmas with my family we can survive anything,” you giggled, kissing

his forehead.

“yeah, i love your family though. mom’s dope. sister’s hilarious. cousins are wildly talented. it fucking runs in the family. i don’t know what runs in my family, maybe… i dunno, bad shit,” he chuckled with a huff, shaking his head.

“hey,” you pouted. “don’t say that, bear. you’re sweet… attentive… loving… a perfectionist until it kills you, but, that’s valuable. isn’t it?”

you punctuated each word with a kiss, trailing down his neck and around his clavicles.

“fuck,” he breathed out. “don’t start something you can’t finish, now.”

“try me,” you grinned devilishly.

#the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x black reader #carmy x black reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy smut #carmy x reader smut #the bear fx #the bear smut #black reader #x black reader

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dfortrafalgar · 1 month

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I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But sometimes, you just need a little bit of love... and a little bit of science.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.

Chapter 27

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“How was the drive over?” Nico Robin had one of her long legs crossed over the other, her laptop on the short counter in front of her as she typed notes into your patient portal.

You tossed her a smile. “Not bad, the seatbelt in my car feels really strange the bigger I get, but I’m just happy I can still drive for the time being.”

The blue-eyed woman nodded before turning to face you. “Based on your 18 week ultrasound, your babies have a heart rate of about 120 beats per minute, which is in the perfectly normal range during this gestational period. Their amniotic fluid levels are also normal. Overall, I’m really pleased with how healthy they are. You’re a few weeks into your second trimester now, have you noticed any significant changes? Any symptoms we should be concerned about?”

It took you a few moments to think. “Well, my skin is really itchy and my back really hurts. My breasts have days where they’re really tender and days when they’re not. My feet hurt sometimes,” you rattled.

Dr. Robin nodded understandingly across from you. “As strange as it is for me to say, hearing that you have normal symptoms of pregnancy makes me incredibly happy. Along with your bloodwork that has been consistently normal and your ultrasound from last week, I am incredibly pleased with your progress and the growth of your babies.” She pulled on a pair of rubber medical gloves and wheeled her stool over to your bed where you placed your feet on the stirrups for your wellness check.

“I am too,” you replied with a broad grin, your hand going to rest over your swollen belly as you reclined on the table, staring at the ceiling as Robin poked around and examined your condition. “I’d much rather have symptoms and know that everything is alright rather than nothing at all.”

“Of course, of course,” your doctor agreed, nodding her head affirmatively. She flashed you a cheeky smile from in between your legs. “Are you positive you don’t want to know the genders?”

Your hands braced themselves against the side of the bed you sat on as your shoulders bounced with the force of your laugh. “Don’t tempt me! I’ve been doing so well wanting to keep it a surprise!”

Your reaction made Robin laugh as she removed her gloves and marked a few final notes in her patient chart for you. “Well, if everything seems to be going normal then I’ll be seeing you again in another few weeks! But you know the drill, call me back immediately if you notice any changes or concerns.”

She helped you down from the table and you slipped into your clothes and shoes, following her to the front desk to receive your patient summary for the visit, along with scheduling your next check-up and ultrasound.

The weather had gotten absolutely stifling in the late summer days, and partnered with your ever-expanding womb, you were finding yourself more and more sweaty hauling around an extra few pounds during the horrendous heat. With your air conditioner blasting, you drove back home to spend the remainder of your day in the cool comfort of your apartment. You couldn’t even imagine how Bepo must have been feeling, all of that thick, fluffy white fur must have been suffocating for him during the summer months. You could barely get him to go outside during the daylight hours, but in the winter months, you needed to go through hell and back to get him inside. The thought of your pup at home made you smile as you pulled out of the parking lot and hit the road back home. He had become so much more attentive toward you recently, almost serving as your guard dog. Even when Shachi and Penguin came over, despite knowing who the two men were, Bepo would stand guard in front of you and refused to let anyone pass. His keen doggie instincts definitely knew there was something different about you.

It didn’t take long for you to get home, the traffic was incredibly minimal. What you wouldn’t give to be at the beach on a day like this, soak up some sun… with your pregnant belly on full display. The thought made you smile, blood rushing to your face. Law probably would take a minor issue with that. ‘I don’t want any other man tossing looks at you,’ he’d probably gripe. You chuckled to yourself as you turned down the road your apartment was on. Like Bepo, Law had also become much, much more protective of you. When he could help it, he refused to miss any update or appointment, staying by your side constantly. You thought maybe you’d get tired of it, but if anything, it made you feel even better about your relationship.

Knowing that Law had no plans on leaving you after you gave birth, loving you in and out of pregnancy, made your heart flutter.

You grabbed your bag and exited your car, locking it behind you as you walked through the stifling humidity into your building, up the elevator, and onto your floor. You slipped your key into the lock and pushed open your door, calling out to Bepo who snorted from the other room. You kicked off your shoes, hung your bag on a hook by the door, and proceeded to the living room where you could finally put your feet up on the couch. You grabbed your journal off of the counter on the way. You’d been so good keeping up with it, almost obsessively so. A few weeks ago, Ikkaku had told you about a similar journal that her mother had kept, and how nice it would be to have your kids eventually read it when they grew up.

That sentiment made you fill out entire paragraphs on some of the pages, a permanent smile plastered on your lips as you wrote.

Bepo stood from his bed when you sat on the couch and immediately laid down directly beside you, ears perked up and constantly on alert should anyone come through the door. You reached down and carded your fingers through the thick fur between his ears, watching with a giggle as his eyes slowly drifted closed and his pink tongue slipped through his muzzle.

“Are you blepping?” you asked.

The dog snorted.

You were periodically checking your phone throughout the afternoon. Law had another fairly large procedure today, a Transmyocardial Revascularization, which involved some technology that he didn’t frequently use in the operating room. When he left your apartment that morning, he was already laser focused, reading through his notes and charts while he scarfed down his breakfast. He only broke composure enough to give you a kiss in the doorway, his hand ghosting over the side of your belly before he left. You were hoping he would text you when the procedure was done, but at the same time were completely understanding if you didn’t hear from him until he got home. Sometimes, he got so swallowed up by his work that he forgot he even existed.

A sudden fluttering sensation from your abdomen almost made you drop your phone. You sat up, startled, your hands flying to your belly, pressing against your skin. The suddenness of your movements made Bepo stand up as well, staring at the door expecting someone to walk in.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind immediately assuming the worst. You weren’t in pain, you hadn’t been spotting, everything had been completely normal.

You felt it again, this time against your hands. A quick flutter within your gut immediately followed by a shallow, quick rippling sensation against the muscles of your abdomen. You felt it in the palm of your hand. Near the other side, the same thing happened.

They were moving. Your twins were moving.

You stood up, startling Bepo who stared at you confused and alert. You gazed down at your dog dumbly. “They’re moving.”

He tilted his head as you spoke to him.

“I don’t know why I stood up,” you blurted, sitting back down with your hands flush against the couch cushions. A giddy, childlike grin crawled to your lips. They were moving. They were moving.

It took about another three hours for Law to get home, and while you waited you had been so overcoming with energy thanks to the excitement of feeling your babies fluttering that you vacuumed your entire apartment, cooked a pavlova with the leftover berries in your fridge, and deep-cleaned the inside of the oven. When your husband finally walked into the entryway and called your name, you almost sprinted to meet him, skidding across the floor in your socks.

“Hey, babe–”

You cut him off swiftly, grabbing his hand and holding it against your belly. You stared down at his inked fingers as they relaxed over your bump, his lips sealed.

“Come on…” you uttered. “Do it again…” It was a longshot, but you hoped that somehow they could hear you.

The fluttering sensation bounced around your abdomen once more, followed by the ripple against your muscle. Law jerked his hand away from your skin, almost like he was forced to touch manure without gloves. His golden eyes were boggling out of his head, his jaw slack and cheeks flushed.

“Was that…?” he stuttered out, words escaping him.

“They started moving!” you cheered, throwing yourself into him, bubbly laughter escaping your throat.

Law was quick to wrap his arms around you once his shock subsided, clutching you to his chest. His own broad smile was on his face as his chest bounced with your giddy laughter. “So I take it your appointment today went well?”

You pulled away from his embrace, excitement coursing through your veins so rapidly that the only thing your body told you to do was grip your husband’s cheeks and press a tender kiss against his lips. He muffled a surprise grunt against your mouth before his hands found purchase on your hips, slightly dipping you backward and ghosting his teeth against your puffy lower lip.

“Sorry,” you all but whispered, barely pulling away from him. “I think I got the zoomies.”

He quickly turned his head away to snort at your words. “The baby-kicking zoomies?”

“I made pavlova,” you sighed. “That’s how excited I got.”

Your husband pressed another hot kiss against your lips before kicking off his shoes and taking your hand to bring him to the kitchen. “Looks like our dinner is pavlova. Not that I’m complaining.”

As soon as you stepped back into the main living area, Bepo was at your feet, nuzzling your legs and sticking his nose into your butt. No matter how many times you shooed him away, he came right back, tongue peeking through his muzzle and beady black eyes melting your heart into oblivion. And now, Law was following the dog’s example. You served slices of your light desert onto two plates for the both of you, following Law to the couch where he proceeded to rest a hand against your belly throughout eating the sweet treat. And while watching the television… and while you washed the dishes… and while you showered… and while you curled up next to him under the covers to sleep.

“Am I going to have to follow you to work now? So you don’t miss a kick?” you asked over your shoulder, adjusting your body so you could press further into your husband’s chest with your back.

His hand lazily stroked up and down your side as he pressed light kisses to the back of your head. “Maybe. … Probably.”

“I won’t be very good in the operating room,” you laughed quietly into the darkness.

“Oh, that reminds me. I forgot to tell you something with all the excitement.” You felt Law push away from you slightly, giving you enough room to roll over and face him.

“What’s up?” you asked, curiously. Your eyes couldn’t quite see his face, but his hand on your waist kept you glued to him nonetheless.

“The biggest surgery of my life got scheduled today,” he said. “A heart-lung transplant.”

You bolted upright in bed, reaching over for the lamp next to your pillow and pulling down on the power chord, illuminating your small corner of the room. Your eyes were wide. “Are you serious?”

With disheveled hair, Law sat up as well, hunching his back to rest his elbows on his knees. “Yup. Early May.”

“Holy shit,” you uttered. “I… didn’t even know that was possible.”

Law nodded. “The man has been in the ICU for almost an entire year now. Every treatment option has been exhausted for both his heart and lungs. Stents, catheters, bypass surgeries, blood-thinners, every available diagnostic test for pulmonary failure has been tried and done. He’s approaching end-stage heart and lung failure and has been intubated for quite some time, and he recently got approved for transplant from the donor board.”

You absorbed his words with awe. “That’s a lot… poor guy.”

Your husband hummed. “It’s tough, but we all think this surgery will be the ultimate best thing for him. He’s got AB+ blood which is incredibly lucky for him, and a donor has been selected based on cardiopulmonary quality.” He glanced at you and could tell based on the slightly grim look on your face that you were curious where they even got the heart and lungs from. “Organs are usually harvested from people who have suffered from brain injuries. If they established prior to illness or injury that they would like to be a living tissue donor, then if they suffer brain death, they can be eligible for organ donation. I’m not familiar with the donor right now, but I assume that’s the case for them.”

Your heart clenched at the thought. “Wow…”

Law scooted closer to you and rubbed your back. “It’s tough medicine, but someone’s sacrifice might be able to save the life of another.”

A smile pulled to your lips before you realized something. “Wait…”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“May 22nd is my due date,” you stated. “Not that I’m telling you to not do the surgery, obviously, but… what if…”

“You go into labor while I’m in the operating room?” he asked, finishing your sentence for you. “The entire procedure, if it still happens when scheduled, might be anywhere from 12 to 16 hours. So I guess we’ll just have to hope that you don’t go into labor on that day.”

“That’s a long time… are you going to be alright?” you asked, leaning into his touch, your voice filled with worry.

Law smiled. “Don’t worry about me. You remember my sleep schedule in college, I’ll be fine.”

You grinned. “Just don’t start drinking energy drinks again, I don’t want your kidneys to give out in the OR.”

Your statement made Law laugh as he reached over you and pulled the cord on the lamp once more, plunging the room back into darkness. “I promise I won’t, that shit’s nasty anyway. We can talk about it more in the morning and when it gets closer, though.”

The comfortable darkness filled the room as you snuggled into your husband’s arms. “Sounds good, baby.”

A kiss to the skin of your forehead was the last sensation you felt before drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

—

“Okay, I know you guys said you didn’t want us to go crazy, but we went a little crazy.”

You and Law were seated on your loveseat across from Ikkaku, Shachi, and Penguin, who sat behind a plethora (read: a metric ton compared to the total volume of your apartment) of bags and boxes. Ikkaku began rifling through some of the bags at her feet, grumbling about a list she had written down of your coworkers and what they had chipped in with.

Law was dumbfounded, his eyes wide and incredibly confused. You felt a small kick in your belly, prompting you to sooth your bump with your hand. You were about 24 weeks now, and your home wardrobe had largely consisted of Law’s oversized sweatshirts to account for your very pronounced abdomen.

Penguin clapped his hands. “So, we didn’t want the lovely couple to get themselves worried about getting all their baby gear, so in these two boxes,” he interrupted his words to violently slap the unlabeled cardboard next to the armrest on his side of the couch, “are the cribs. Two of them. You know, for two babies.”

“And in these boxes,” Shachi kicked two more unlabeled boxes with his foot, “are bedspread sets for the crib mattresses.”

“Oh, shit, we still need the mattresses,” Penguin gasped, slapping Shachi’s shoulder making the red-head wince.

“Don’t they come with the mattresses already?” Shachi replied, rubbing his arm.

“I found it!” Ikkaku hollered, pulling out a double-sided sheet of loose-leaf paper. “Okay, everyone from the office went behind your back and got a bunch of stuff for you.” She cleared her throat and passed you a large holiday-themed gift bag, which you leaned forward to grab by the string handles and pull to rest in your lap. “That one is from Nami. She went kind of crazy with getting clothes, I told her to keep them gender neutral since you guys don’t know the sexes yet, but a lot of them are feminine anyway, so… let’s hope for girls.”

Law leaned over to peer into the large bag as you picked through it. ‘Crazy’ was an understatement. Nami had seemingly given you an entire wardrobe for the first year of your babies’ lives. Onesies, shirts, pants, a bunch of bundles of newborn socks, little hats, headbands, swaddles with different patterns, mittens, and two winter coats that would fit them up to six months. There was more beneath the initial assortment you sifted through.

“This entire bag is from only Nami?” you asked, completely bewildered.

“Well, Nami and Nojiko,” Ikkaku responded, skimming her list. “Oh, there should be a small bottle of newborn laundry detergent in there, too. Just F-Y-I.”

“Okay, so the cribs do in fact come with mattresses. You just have to let them rise like bread for 24 hours before putting them in the cribs. They should be firm,” Penguin explained, scrolling through his phone.

You cringed at the mention of bread. You still hadn’t gotten your tolerance for the texture back.

“This next one is from Sanji and Zoro, but mostly Sanji. He got you a set of baby monitors, two mobiles for each crib, and a diaper changing table.” Ikkaku slid another box towards your feet. The top of it was labeled with elegant handwriting that read, ‘TO THE LOVELY COUPLE~’.

Shachi dragged over another box. “This is a double stroller. All assembly required.”

“This bag is from Usopp, I think it’s a bunch of baby hygiene products. Baby powder, light wipes, a few bags of diapers to get you started, some diaper station pads, little washcloths and towels, diaper cream, the works.” Following her words, yet another bag was slid over to you, this time snatched by Law.

“Diapers are expensive,” he mumbled. “How did everyone pull all of this together?”

Ikkaku shrugged. “Sanji and Nami are well-off. Usopp? No idea.” She dismissively looked back at her list. “Oh, this next one’s from Ms. Boa. I can’t remember what she put in it, though.”

Another box was kicked over your way, already open slightly for you to rifle through. It was completely filled to the brim with everything you would need for breastfeeding. Two breast pumps, a large volume of milk storage bags, nursing pads, and a few tubes of nipple cream. At the bottom of the box, there was a variety of decorative bibs, a few baby bottles, a bottle warmer, and a specialized bottle sterilizer. Your head was whirling.

“Guys, you’re making me dizzy,” you practically wheezed, leaning back against the couch. Law rubbed your shoulder reassuringly.

“We’re almost done,” Shachi stated. He picked up a bag next to Ikkaku’s shoe. “Oh, I forgot. This one’s from Rebecca.”

Law picked his head up. “My head nurse?”

“Is that who that is?” Shachi asked, sliding over the bag.

“How did you get her number?” the surgeon asked, picking up the package and opening it.

“The hospital has a database with contact info. You should tell them to update your picture, by the way. You look dead in your current headshot.” Penguin’s backhanded comment made you snort.

The gift from Rebecca was exactly what you would expect from a cardiology nurse. A thermometer, a pair of baby nail clippers, petroleum jelly, a few rolls of sterile gauze, a first aid kit, an assortment of pacifiers, and a few baby toothbrushes. He felt himself smile. She had always been a caring, generous person. While he was still a bit perturbed by the whole hospital database thing, it came as no surprise to him that Rebecca would be so generous as to provide gifts for her superior and his expectant wife.

“This is the last one I think,” Ikkaku mumbled, dragging over another box with her foot. “Oh, this one’s from Luffy and his brothers!”

This time, both you and Law perked up.

“Luffy?” you asked. “I haven’t seen him in, like, three years.”

“Where’d he even go, anyway?” Law asked. “I lost track of him after a while.”

Ikkaku laughed, pushing the box toward you. “Sanji told me something about his grandfather trying to force the three of them to join the military. I think they moved somewhere just to get away from the hustle and bustle for a bit, but also to get away from that marine grandpa of theirs.”

“What was his name again?” Shachi asked.

“Garp, I think. Isn’t there a picture of his face on that marine recruitment poster they keep hanging at the local community college?” Penguin queried.

“That’s right.” Shachi snapped his fingers. “I never liked that guy.”

You leaned over as far as you could manage with your belly to open the box from Luffy and his two older brothers. On top of the packing, which was surprisingly well-done (probably not by Luffy), was a hand-written letter.

To the happy couple, Congratulations on your pregnancy! It’s been so long since we’ve all gotten together, but I’m so glad to hear you’re both doing well. At some point we’ll all reconnect, I’m sure Ace and Luffy would love to get to romp around with some toddlers, but at the same time, I would completely understand if you wanted anything but that. Regardless, I hope this box of goodies finds you well. Best of luck during the rest of your pregnancy!

From, Sabo (who wrote all of this, by the way), Ace, and Luffy

Beneath the newsprint used as packing material, a large collection of toys was compiled for the two of you to pick through. A rolled up playmat, some teething toys, an assortment of cardboard baby books, some of which were medical themed, a portable pack-and-play, a generous bunch of baby toys for both the home and a stroller, and a few toy organizers. It was assumed by everyone in the room that Sabo was the one responsible for picking everything out. The other two most likely trailed behind and poked each other with toys from the children’s section of the local supermarket. Regardless, the sentiment was appreciated. A fond smile crawled onto your lips as you scooped up one of the toys from the box. It was a sturdy stuffed white dog with floppy ears and a pink tongue.

“Bepo,” you called, beckoning your fur baby over. “It’s you!”

Law grinned at the display, but quickly hid his face at the mischievous cooing noises his best friends were making from across the room. Bepo was excitedly sniffing the nose of the dog toy before you plopped it back into the box to save for later.

“What’s the plan for you guys in terms of crib placement?” Ikkaku asked, cleaning up the space around her.

You and your husband glanced at each other. You hadn’t actually thought about it much until then. While your apartment was technically a two bed-one bath, the second bedroom was substantially smaller and filled with storage that the two of you always insisted you would one day tackle, but never did. It became a closet forbidden for life, until now, that is.

“I think we’re going to clean out the second bedroom and use that,” Law answered for the two of you. “That won’t be for a few more months, though.”

“Better get on it soon,” Shachi chided. “Those little munchkins will be here before you know it!”

You grinned, tossing a glance at Law as he pinched the bridge of his nose in between his fingers. You turned back to your friends across from you. “Thank you guys for bringing everything over, though, I really appreciate it! We both do.”

“Of course!” Ikkaku piped up before the other two could speak. “I didn’t know when your maternity leave was going to start, so I wanted to make sure you got everything now.”

“A few more weeks,” you confirmed. “But I’m glad to have all of this stuff so early, then we won’t have to stress when it gets closer to the due date.”

“Do you plan on breastfeeding?” Shachi asked suddenly.

“Shut it, Shachi,” Law barked. “You just spoiled us. Don’t test it now.”

The exchange made you laugh, Law seeming to smolder in the direction of his rowdy friends. Your laughing seemed to trigger something in your babies, too, as you felt two simultaneous flutters in your belly.

You liked making them laugh.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #i'm losing you

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 1 month

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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five

TW: abuse of authority, harassment, cops

The next day, you are driving home from a long shift in the wee hours of the morning when you see the dreaded flicker of blue and red lights flashing behind you. There’s hardly anyone else out on the highway, so there’s little chance they’re not directed at you.

What the hell? You weren’t even speeding. You are exhausted. Did you drift over the line? Fuck. A ticket is the last thing you need right now. You make your way over to the side of the road, hoping you don’t get a flat from all the extraneous bullshit that peppers the asphalt. There really is no one around, and a little thrill of fear tightens your chest. Being a woman alone late at night in this situation isn’t exactly what you would call ideal.

You know you don’t exactly look threatening, but you’re still careful to place your hands in full view on the top of the wheel. You glance in your side mirror at the black Dodge Charger parked behind you, momentarily blinded by those stupid flashing lights. However, when you set eyes on the figure who emerges from the driver’s seat, your heart plummets to your stomach.

That motherfucker.

He approaches your open window with all the swagger of a rooster, long legs and broad shoulders. Doesn’t look much like that burn is bothering him now. You know part of the bulk of his chest is a vest (and you’re glad he’s wearing it, considering his habits) but it still manages to fry the aesthetic center of your brain as you watch him.

He bends down slightly to peer in your window, blinding you with his flashlight. So unnecessary.

“Really?” you grouse, squinting at the bright light.

Ignoring your complaint, he offers that shit-eating smirk. “Know why I pulled you over?”

He leans on your window, and you know you stare at that large hand distractingly close to your shoulder for a beat too long, utterly betraying your thoughts to him. “No idea,” you sigh, tired, and pissed off, and you hate to admit it-entirely too titillated by his newest form of harassment.

Again, it occurs to you how very alone you are out here, at this time of the night. Even if there was another car driving byâ€¦there’s no way they’re stopping to help you.

“For driving while adorable.”

Of all the things he could have said in that moment-and you cannot help but remember the way he trussed you like a christmas turkey and said such filthy things in your ear that one time you treated him-it’s so cheesy it almost makes you smile.

“Are you kidding me?”

“And you were going 7 miles over the speed limit.”

This was LA. You took your life in your hands for not speeding at least fifteen over most of the time.

“You’re writing me a ticket for going seven over?”

He doesn’t actually have the ticket book in his hand, and he looks around the deserted highway as though thinking about it.

“Well. I don’t have to…”

Here it comes.

“I’m not going on a date with you to get out of this. Write it up. Fuck it. I don’t care.”

He pays you a little frown, because he’s trying to be cute, but you’re just not playing his game. You imagine a man like this isn’t used to women not playing any games he asks them to. He has no idea how stubborn you can be.

When he honest-to-god makes a pouty face, pushing out that beautifully full lower lip it’s all you can do not to reach out of the car and slap him-or maybe punch him in the dick-because it’s charming, and it melts your heart a little, and you so do not need this. You’ve been dreaming about him nearly every goddamn night since you first treated him and this is only going to throw gasoline on the fire-fuck!

“Did you forget that I have a boyfriend?” you remind him, for yourself as much as him. Maybe it’s not wise, to poke the bear while he’s actually almost being sweet-but you are mad.

His eyes narrow at you, and why do you get such a thrill from that?

“Do you? Because the two of you seemed a little…awkward, together. Not sure I buy it.”

“Things are just new,” you defend. “What, do you want to hear about how he rubs my feet on my break?”

The glint in Officer Ludlow’s eyes is like a bared blade. “Just your feet? Honey, if you were my girl I’d rub you all over. For your health.”

Fuck if that doesn’t send a spear of heat straight to your center, your heart thumping painfully in your chest. You hope he doesn’t notice you shifting in your seat, trying to relieve some of the absolutely diabolical ache between your thighs.

“Well…the break room has its limits.”

“Wouldn’t stop me.” The images that is going to give you when you lay down to sleep.

“I’m sure it wouldn’t. But Julian is actually a gentleman.”

“Yeah? Pretty sure that’s code for boring as fuck.”

“He’s not boring. He’s sweet. He’s taking me to coffee on Saturday morning, and you know what? I’m not going to think about you at all.”

A greater lie was never told.

It almost feels like you finally scored a hit. His expression turns stony, unreadable, and you know it’s crazy but you almost feel bad about it. At last he straightens from practically leaning into your window, hooking his thumb in his belt. “Alright, sassy girl,” he says, patting the top of your car. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time.” With a final dark look he swaggers back to his Charger.

It’s possible you watch him go in your side mirror-it’s really not fair, that God gave a man that annoying such a biteable little muffin of an ass.

#tom ludlow x reader #tom ludlow #street kings #keanuverse fic #keanuverse

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mrsstarkey1 · 1 year

Text

this is me trying - rafe cameron

SUMMARY: based on 'this is me trying' by taylor swift. takes place after the events of season three.

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

WARNINGS: season 3 spoilers

A/N: you cannot tell me this song doesn't portray rafe cameron perfectly like ??? it's insane. also check out my most recent rafe fic

------

i've been having a hard time adjusting

i had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting

rafe couldn't remember a time before the gold, before the cross, before his dad became obsessed, before he let his dad drag him down with him, before his dad was dead.

rafe's entire life, he made decisions with one thing in mind; his dad. then suddenly, he was gone. it was as if in one singular instant, rafe's life became meaningless. his purpose - gone. his reasoning for every terrible thing he's ever done - gone.

he wanted to be angry, to blame someone. he wanted to not believe the story that sarah told him. but something inside him wouldn't let himself blame anyone but himself.

as rafe wandered the streets of whatever city he ended up in running from his problems, he found remembering glimpses of his life before everything got complicated. he used to have money that didn't come from gold; he used to have friends; he used to have the possibility of a future; he used to be happy. he missed that. and he could finally admit it.

i didn't know if you'd care if i came back

i have a lot of regrets about that

rafe left the outer banks without saying a word to anyone the same day that sarah told him about his father. he didn’t even say anything to you, but he wished that he did.

now it’d been so long, he was so worried that even if he came back to you, and God knows he wanted to, that you'd never forgive him.

he told himself that you probably wouldn't even care if he came back. in reality, he was just terrified that if he faced you and you felt how he thought you did, he'd lose the one thing he was still living for.

if he lost the idea of you; the possibility that maybe one day he could hold you in his arms again, then he'd have nothing. he couldn't bare the thought of that.

pulled the car off the road to the lookout

could've followed my fears all the way down

rafe twisted the key out of the ignition, tossing it onto the passengers seat. he opened the car door with a shaky hand before he could talk himself out of it.

he dragged his feet along the ground, dirt kicking up as he walked. breathing in the mountain air, he looked down, kicking a rock over the edge. he estimated about it was about 300 feet until the first ledge.

rafe lifted his eyes up, blinking the tears away that he hadn’t realized had formed. he took in the view along with a deep breath. his head was level with the clouds, and he’d never seen something so beautiful; so calming - the fresh air, the mountain view, the feeling he got. taking it all in, rafe finally felt at peace. which made sense, given what he’d pulled over the car to do.

almost every part of him was ready. every part of him except for the part that still loved you; the part of him that wanted to make things right.

he was still terrified of facing you, even more so now since it had been almost a year. and now he had a choice to make. he could take one more step forward and chase that fear all the way to bottom; take the easy way out. or he could turn around, and follow his fear back home.

and maybe i don’t quite know what to say

but i’m here in your doorway

i just wanted you to know

that this is me trying

rafe could barely keep his eyes open by the time he’d pulled into your driveway. a twelve hour drive running on no sleep and no food, it was a miracle he hadn’t wrapped his car around a tree.

rafe’s heartbeat quickened when his eyes met your car parked on the side of the street. you were inside. a part of him had been hoping you wouldn’t be home, and he’d have a little longer to decide what to say. he’d thought 12 hours would have been enough, but his shaking hands suggested otherwise.

he gripped the steering wheel, closing his eyes and forcing in a deep breath. this is why he was still alive, for this very moment.

he pushed open the car door as soon as he’d psyched himself up enough. within a couple seconds, he was at your front door, fist held up inches from the wood. this is when he finally realized what he was doing.

you were never going to forgive him, what was he doing? his heart beated against his chest like a drum, and he suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. his body went completely weak, and he practically crashed into the front door.

it was the footsteps on the other side of the door that brought him out of his weakened state, and he realized what had just happened. you were coming to the door. he was going to be face to face with you in less than a minute. he stepped back from the door, glancing back at his car, weighing his options.

the door swung open so quickly, rafe jumped out of his skin, for a lack of better words. he opened his mouth to say something, but not even a breath came out.

there you were. you looked even more beautiful than he remembered. your hair was lighter and a lot longer, reminding him that it had been an entire year since he’d seen you.

“rafe,” he’d barely heard you say, still trying to believe that you were within his reach. you took a step closer, eyes scanning over his entire body. “you-you’re here,” you breathed out.

your eyes asked a million questions, and all he wanted to do was answer them. but every time he opened his mouth to say something, only silence followed. before he knew it, your arms were wrapped around him and hands tangled in his hair. your hugs still felt the exact same after a year, and the second he breathed in the scent of you, it felt like he’d gone back in time.

his eyes fluttered shut and his arms closed tightly around you, hanging on for dear life.

the embrace didn’t last nearly as long as he wanted, which was forever. you pulled away, keeping your hands on his arms. “where the hell have you been, rafe?” you asked, eyes scanning his face. he wanted to tell you everything, he needed to, but his throat was closed shut. all he could do was stare into your eyes. “talk to me, baby. you’ve been gone for a year. no contact, no nothing. i understand why you left, okay? you lost your father, and i know how much me meant to you. but you’ve got to tell me what’s going on. please, rafe, just talk to me.”

“i-” he started, a pathetic feeling engulfing him when his voice broke after one word and he looked at the ground. you moved closer, hands slipping from his arms and up to the sides of his face. you trained your eyes on his, silently begging him to talk. rafe took a shaky breath, “i’m trying,” he let out weakly.

you nodded your head intently, “i know you are.” you saw it in his eyes, the broken part of him. you leaned in, resting your forehead on his, “i know you’re trying.”

rafe nodded, a sigh of relief escaping him. twelve hours ago, he was standing on the edge between life and death. looking into your eyes now, he knew that he would spend the rest of his days trying to pay you back for being the reason he chose life.

at least i'm trying

taglist (message me to be added): @withbeautyandrage @willowpains

REQUESTS OPEN !!

check out my obx masterlist || taylor swift song inspired fics

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kit-walk3r · 1 year

Text

My Kyle (Kyle Spencer x fem!reader) (Together Not Forever alternate ending)

Maybe you don’t have to learn to let Kyle go after all

Warnings: none

Part 1 Part 2

Note: here’s the alternate ending to Together Not Forever! I’m pretty happy with this so I hope you like it 💗

“Y/N. She’s leaving,” Zoe repeated. “She’s moving back home to be with her family.”

“Oh,” Kyle looked down. He felt a wave of sadness but also a sense of… relief. If you left then that allowed him to resist the temptation to find you and put you in any danger by being in his company. It would also set you free, away from him.

“Oh? That’s all you can say?” Zoe scoffed.

“Maybe it’s better this way,” Kyle shrugged. “She can get over me and I can get over her.”

“Kyle, you’re miserable without each other. This is your chance to be happy again.” Zoe insisted.

Kyle shook his head. “I made my choice, Zoe. I can’t be near her anymore.”

“How are you going to give yourself any closure?” Zoe asked. She sat down next to Kyle. “You need to think about yourself as well. Kyle, you said she was the love of your life. Are you really going to let her go without getting your own goodbye?”

…

It was your final shift at the diner before you moved back home to your family. “Someone’s asking for you,” your boss said, pointing to the door that led to the main diner.

“Who?” You asked.

Your boss shrugged. “Some brown haired girl.”

Brown haired girl? Zoe.

You nodded in thanks, before heading out onto the floor. There Zoe was, awkwardly standing next to the door waiting for you.

“Zoe?” You walked over to her and she smiled before greeting you. “What are you doing here?” The two of you had already said goodbye.

“I’m so glad I caught you,” Zoe said. “I’ve got something I need to show you. When do you finish your shift?”

You checked your watch. “In about a half hour,” you answered. “Why? What do you need to show me?”

“It’s a surprise,” She smiled.

“Okay…” You said, confused. “Well, if you let me know where it is I can come meet you once my shift’s over.”

“It’s no bother,” Zoe shrugged. “I can just hang here until you finish. It’s probably easier for me to drive you, anyway.”

You nodded. “Well, if you take a seat over there I can bring you over a milkshake or something.” You motioned towards one of the empty booths.

Zoe took a seat as you walked back to the kitchen, confused and intrigued about what her surprise was.

- - -

Once your shift was over you said your goodbyes to your friends and co-workers before grabbing your bag and heading out to meet Zoe. She was still sitting at the same booth, and got up when she saw you walking towards her.

“Ready to go?” She asked and you nodded.

The two of you headed out to her car which was parked just outside. It was sleek and black, much nicer than anything you could afford. You marvelled at the vehicle for a moment before getting the passenger side, waiting for Zoe to start the car.

“Any hints on what this ‘surprise’ is?” You asked as she started the drive to wherever the destination was. Your interest in whatever Zoe had to show you had peaked now you were on your way.

“Let’s just say I know you’re gonna love it,” Zoe teased, eyes on the road. She was grinning, and you wondered what could be so special for her to look so excited about something for you. You hummed in response and looked out the window at the world passing by for the remainder of the drive.

You weren’t in the car for long before you pulled up to a large pillared white house, surrounded by a black iron gate. Your eyes widened at the majestic sight. It was beautiful.

“Here we are,” Zoe said. She got out of the car and you quickly followed.

“Do you live here?” You asked curiously as Zoe opened the gate, ushering you inside.

She nodded. “For almost a year. It’s a pretty cool place, right?”

You hummed in agreement. She let the two of you into the house and you couldn’t help but gasp at the grandness of the interior. “This is beautiful,” you remarked, taking in the white walls and the chandeliers and grand staircase.

“Come on, your surprise is upstairs,” Zoe smiled and the two of you walked up the spiral staircase, still overwhelmed by the sight. This was a whole lot nicer than the dingy college dorm you lived in.

Zoe led you along a long hallway until you reached the final door on the one, pure white like everything else in this place. She knocked twice before opening the door. “Go inside,” her smile turned into a grin and she pushed open the door for you to enter.

It was quite a sparse room, with very little to no decoration and a bed and nightstand being the only pieces of furniture, asides a small chair in the other corner of the room, yet it still kept up the grand aesthetic the rest of the house you had seen shared.

A figure sat on the bed. He wore a black jumper, contrasting highly with the white surroundings and making him immediately noticeable to your eye. He was sitting with his back to you, but you still noticed the shaggy head of blonde hair that was oh so familiar. Too familiar.

The creek of the floorboards underneath your feet caught his attention and he slowly turned around to see you.

Kyle.

Your Kyle.

You froze in your place, unblinking, as you took in the sight in front of you. No, it couldn’t be. Kyle was dead, long dead. You’d just about come to terms with it now. This couldn’t be happening.

Kyle was still too, and the both of you spent what felt like forever just staring at each other, taking in the fact that you were in each other’s presence again. You felt as if you could hardly breathe. It felt like a dream. Surely this was a dream?

The trance the two of you were in was broken when Kyle uttered your name. That was his voice, Kyle’s voice. Just the sound of it brought tears to your eyes and you felt one slowly roll down your cheek.

“Kyle?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. This had to be a dream, and you wanted to wake up. This wasn’t fair. This would only cause her more pain when she inevitably awoke.

Kyle spoke your name again and stood up from the bed, yet you stayed frozen. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, afraid that if you even took one step all of this would wash away, as if your memory of Kyle would wash away.

He slowly walked towards you as you felt yourself continue to cry. You still felt unable to move and as Kyle inched closer your heart began to beat faster and faster. Your body felt hot, your hands slightly shaking. Was this real? Was this reality?

You felt the gentlest touch on your cheek. Kyle wiped away the tears staining your cheek, even though tears were glistening in his own eyes. Here he was, standing right in front of you and you took him all in. You noticed the scar that ran across one of his cheeks. Just above the collar of his shirt you could see another scar, circling his whole neck, that looked pretty deep. His hair was a mess, not neat and tidy how he usually liked to keep it, and you were pretty sure he was taller than you remembered. He looked different, but he was still Kyle.

The two of you locked eyes, and you acknowledged that you were now both crying. Your own hand mirrored Kyle’s and you reached out to clean his own cheek of tears. The skin under your finger was warm and you gently ran your thumb over the slightly rough texture of his scar. He was still Kyle.

Through the tears you noticed something in Kyle’s eyes, the familiar twinkle you always saw when he was smiling and laughing with you. And that was when you couldn’t control yourself anymore and you jumped at him, wrapping your arms around him tightly and pressing your face into his neck in the tightest embrace you had ever given him. He held you back just as tightly and you felt him press a kiss to the side of your head like he always used to. This was real, Kyle was real, and you couldn’t believe that you were lucky enough to have another chance with him.

“Kyle,” you cried into him, your tears non-stop flowing. “My Kyle.”

- - -

Outside, Zoe smiled as she watched the two of you embrace before quietly shutting the door and allowing you to have your loving moment of happiness and bliss.

•———•

Kyle and the reader finally got their happy ending! I’m really happy with how the alternate ending turned out and I hope it satisfied people who wanted a happy ending. I may have one or two ideas for a couple more fics in this series based on this alternate ending if anyone is interested.

Also, remember my requests are open!

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anonymous-rendezvous · 8 months

Text

Dancing in Red

❤️ Vox Akuma x GN!Reader

✦ — Written by Mod S 👿. Beta Read and Edited by Mod I ✨.

✧ — Contains: Established Relationship, fluff, NSFW 🔞, semi vanilla, light dirty talk, & multiple rounds

✦ — Word count: 13k+ | Ao3

Intimate moments with your demon lover, Vox Akuma, weren’t far between. Him being as affectionate of an individual as he is. The two of you have been dating for a while, yet you haven’t tried taking anything further in your relationship. That may change when you ask to visit his home for the first time.

Mod S 👿: There needs to be more soft Vox, so I’ve taken matters into my own hands. Enjoy this 13k mountain of softness and smut.

Reference for his room, and we semi-reference the first few minutes of his first date scenario.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The trees and scenery around you passed in a blur as you drove down the long road. “Come on, me.” Your grip tightened around the steering wheel. “Don’t be so nervous. Your boyfriend has invited you over to his house for the first time. No need to panic.” It took a few moments before your own words seemed to process in your head. “Oh god–” Your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat. “I’m going over to his house for the first time!” Quickly and carefully, you pull over to the side of the road, putting the car into park so you could get your breathing under control. Once you start to calm down, you can’t help but chuckle at yourself. Putting the car back into drive, you continued on your way.

Although slightly ridiculous, you felt valid in your feelings of nervousness.

Vox Akuma, voice demon and clan leader of the former Akuma clan, was your boyfriend. As fierce as he is as a demon, he still manages to maintain an incredibly soft and comforting demeanor. Always the first to give encouraging words to those he cares about. When you think about it, it was truly inevitable that you’d fallen for him all those months ago.

The previous times the two of you had spent time together, it was either out in public or in the comfort of your own home. When you had questioned him about it, the demon had explained that he’d wanted you to be comfortable and feel safe when you were together. As a result, you had never visited his home before; waiting till he knew you’d be comfortable. It hadn’t been until last week when you breached the subject that he knew for sure. Asking if he would be okay with you finally gracing his home. Vox seemed ecstatic at the idea, giving you a designated hour and everything. Said he needed time to make his house as welcoming as possible for you. The concept was incredibly sweet, which only caused the butterflies in your stomach to double.

You took in one final deep breath as you watched his house come into view. Even from a distance, you could tell the building was very intricate on the outside. A large garden encompassing the front with a lovely bench placed on his front porch. It was very traditional Japanese in appearance. Which made sense, of course, with him originally hailing from Japan. Though you still couldn’t help but think it was immensely fitting. Parking your vehicle in the driveway, you text Vox about your arrival. Sliding your phone back into your pocket and exit the car, locking it as you make your way up to the front door.

As you approach the door, your hand raises, fully prepared to knock when the door suddenly opens. Your eyes widen slightly as you watch your demon lover casually lean against the door frame; almost like he had been waiting for you. A gentle smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, eyes dancing with delight. “Hello love, I hope the drive here wasn’t too hectic.” His voice was deep and smooth like always, but there was a sweetness in his tone that he reserved only for you. Vox opens the door wider, stepping aside so you have room to enter his home.

The surprise melts away quickly as you offer him a smile, shaking your head fondly. “It was a pleasant drive, actually. The forest on the way here is very pretty.” You stepped inside as you spoke. After shutting the door, he helped you remove your coat, hanging it on the coatrack beside the door. Slipping your shoes off before setting them away, out of the way next to the door as he responds.

“I’m glad it wasn’t a hassle. I admit, one reason I was hesitant to invite you is because my home is fairly out of the way.” He reached out to place his hand gently on your arm, silently asking you to follow him. You give him another smile in silent acceptance, allowing him to guide you further into his home as you continue to converse.

“Well, since you make the effort to come all the way to my house, I should make the effort to come to see you as well. It’s a two-way street Vox.” He smiled at you so warmly that you swear you felt the heat radiate onto your face. Or maybe that was just you getting flustered. Unable to hold his gaze, you look away bashfully. Vox can’t help but chuckle at your reaction. He had merely smiled at you and you were already embarrassed. ‘Utterly adorable,’ he thought to himself.

However, instead of teasing you about it, as he typically would, he just leads you to his living room. As this was your first time here, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander, taking in all the furniture and decor. It wasn’t long before you noticed that he had two mugs, presumably with tea, sitting out on the coffee table. Ready for both your enjoyment as they steamed lightly. What truly caught your eye, though, was the controllers next to them.

Unable to help yourself, you playfully roll your eyes. “I didn’t think you were gonna invite me over just to kick my ass, babe.” Your lips twitch as you attempt not to smile, keeping your fax seriousness. “That’s pretty ruthless.”

Vox pauses before chuckling, shifting his hand from your arm to lightly pat your shoulder. “It’s only me kicking your ass if you suck today~,” He only laughs harder as you turn to pout at him.

“You’re lucky I like you.” You grumble, lightly smacking his arm.

“Yes, I’m very lucky indeed.” He leaned over to plant a small peck on your temple. His giggling picks back up when you make a sound equivalent to a keyboard smashing. With an embarrassed huff, you quickly stride toward the couch and drop down on it. God, he can be so infuriating. This can’t be good for your heart. As you reach for one mug, Vox takes a seat beside you, making himself comfortable. He picks up his mug, taking a drink before speaking again. “Don’t worry about being bad at any of the games we’re playing.” He takes another sip before looking over at you with a teasing smirk. “If I really wanted to teach you a lesson, I’d have put in ‘Smash’.” He sets his mug back down on the table before picking up the controllers.

Setting your mug down, you accept the controller he offers to you. “If you did, I would think I had done something wrong.” Both of you laugh at that. As he gets the system set up, you take the opportunity to settle further into the couch. With a tilt of your head, you watch him for a moment before asking, “So… what are we playing? We rarely play co-op games.”

Before he could answer, the game popped up on the screen. ‘Clubhouse Games’. A decent collection of some classic games. Vox leans back with you, slightly scooting closer to you as he did. “I’ll let you pick the games. I just want you to have fun while you're over here.” You couldn’t help the way your expression softens, yet another smile tugging at your lips. He was so sweet. Even when he teases you, he wants to make sure that you were still having a good time. Not that this was abnormal behavior for your boyfriend. No matter how much he teased, taunted, or egged on those he was close to, he never wanted to push to a point where any of you were genuinely not enjoying yourselves. Not for the first time, the nagging thought prodded at your subconscious that you had yet to find a way to repay him for all the kindness he has shared with you.

Though knowing the demon as you do, he’d likely say your company was repayment enough. Some way or another, you would still find a way to return his love in full.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Time passes quickly as the two of you have fun. Neither of you realize how late it was getting; the room getting darker as evening crept around the corner. Your only indication of the time is when your phone alarm sounds, causing the two of you to pause. You finish stretching before leaning down to retrieve your phone. Sitting in the same position for so long has started to cause your back to ache. It’s only when reading the time on the alarm that you realize how late it’s gotten. “Oh, crap…” You had set an alarm reminder for when you should probably leave. You still had a work-related project to finish. Even though there was still a lot of time before it was due to turn in, you wanted to finish it quickly so you could spend your time on other things. Turning off the alarm, you couldn’t help but feel this sinking sensation in your heart. ‘I… I don’t want to leave yet…’ you thought with a sigh. A warm hand resting on your shoulder snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Everything okay, love? Is it for something important?” His golden eyes were warm, yet you could tell he was thinking the same as you. Vox didn’t want you to leave either, which only made the decision to leave harder.

“It’s fine. I had set that for a work thingy. So I should… probably go soon. I still gotta cook something for dinner and then–” The more you thought about work, the tenser you got. You had so much to do and, jeez, you just did not want to do it. Not today. Why did you constantly try to make yourself as busy as possible?

Vox could feel the way your shoulders tensed beneath his hand. Shifting his hand from your shoulder to your arm, he began rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. “My dear, you know better than anyone that I can make you dinner. Not an issue at all. Plus, if I’m being frank with you…” He pauses for a moment before continuing, “I don’t want you to depart just yet. And,” he brought his other hand up to caress your chin, gently coaxing you to look at him, “I don’t think you want to either.”

Your lips trembled slightly as a lump formed in your throat. Exhaling, you avert your eyes from him. “Your way too good at reading me,” you sigh, albeit fondly, “but yeah I… I don’t wanna go. Not yet. I mean, I gotta milk how comfy your furniture is before I leave.” You joke in hopes of stopping the butterflies ever-rising in your stomach from how naturally romantic he is. His gaze was already fairly intense on a normal basis – maybe that just comes with being a demon – but it always caused you to feel a mixture of emotions.

Vox smiles and removes his hands from you, turning to collect your mugs. As he stands from the couch, he lingers, tilting his head as he looks over at you. “You know,” He seems to hesitate for a second, wetting his lips before continuing, “I wouldn’t mind you staying the night. Like I said earlier, my house is fairly out of the way. I don’t want you stressing yourself while driving so far when it’s pitch black.” There's a slight shift in his expression. His eyes lidded as his lips quirked in a faint smirk. “My bed is enormous enough for two.” His tone shifted with his last sentence. If you had thought longer on it, you likely would have caught on to the implications of his words. Yet, you were too worried about inconveniencing him to pick up on it.

“Oh Vox, I couldn’t–I don’t want to–” He gently interrupts before you could speak any further.

“Love, it’s okay. If it was inconvenient, I would just drive you home myself. I’m okay with you staying in my home.” Mouth opening and closing a few times, you can’t think of a solid argument. You huff, unable to stop yourself from pouting up at him. The demon chuckled at your expression, eyes filled with love. “If you’d like–” he gestures towards the corridor– “you can go rummage through my closet for some clothes to sleep in. I’ll get started on a quick meal for us.” Still unable to verbally respond, you give him a nod before scurrying your way to his room.

Though not even a second later, you re-entered the room. “Umm… which one is your room?” The laughter that pulled from Vox was boisterous. Once he gives you the directions, you make a hasty retreat.

As soon as you reach the room, you can’t help but stare in awe. It was a very beautiful, somewhat traditional, room. The floor was covered in a nice dark wood that reflected the few beams of sunlight that managed to sneak in with the setting sun. Your eyes can’t help but travel to the slightly elevated part of the room where a large pristinely made bed sat, tatami mats covering the surrounding floor, sliding doors able to hide the area from view. Taking a deep breath, you noted the scent of lavender and leather was much more prominent here than throughout the rest of the house. The sophisticated state of his room caused you to feel a twang of embarrassment over the times he’d seen your room in its occasional hazardous state.

Shaking the thought away, you maneuver your way toward Vox’s closet and drawers. Finding a fair-sized red hoodie and some shorts that were adjustable by a drawstring you could wear. Moving to his bathroom, you quickly change your clothes. Folding up your clothes, you set them aside on the counter before moving on to wash up. Once finished, you head back out to meet Vox in his dining room, where he was already serving the two of you dinner.

Sensing your arrival, golden eyes flicker up to greet you. However, it takes him a solid moment and a double-take before he fully takes you in. His eyes slowly trail over your body. Seeing you in his clothes affected him in a way he hadn’t truly prepared for. It wasn’t even in a lustful way. Seeing you move around his home, in his clothes as he prepared a meal for you… it felt so utterly domestic and his heart swelled with love. ‘Someday,’ he told himself, pushing those thoughts back for now. But someday? He would love nothing more than to make this permanent.

Blinking himself out of the slight daze he’d fallen into, he realized you were still standing in the doorway, shifting on your feet. His staring made you feel a bit embarrassed. With a soft chuckle, he gestured you into the room with a smile. “Sorry, love, you just look really cute in my clothes.” For a second, you could have sworn his expression changed. Yet, once you blinked, it was back to his gentle smile.

Clearing your throat, you finally move further into the room and take a seat before ducking your head to hide your sheepish expression. “U–um, the food looks really good, Vox.” The demon's smile grew at your praise as he took his seat across from you. “Thank you for the meal. Let’s eat!”

The pair of you eat silently at first, enjoying the food. Yet it’s not long before you start looking around, as though looking for something. Vox notices this, cocking a brow at you. “Something the matter, love?”

“Nothing wrong, just,” you sit back fully in your seat with a confused tilt of your head. “I’ve been here a couple of hours. Is Onigiri out today?”

Vox makes a sound of understanding before explaining, “Oh no, he’s actually gone home this month. Spending more time with his wife.”

“Aww, that makes sense.” You can’t help but smile at your next thought. “At least he gets a break from you, then.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He scowls at you, except you can see the corners of his lips twitching. “In reality, I’m the one getting a break from him!” Your bright laughter fills the room.

The tension you had been feeling before faded as the pair of you have a pleasant conversation, enjoying your meal. Once finished, you help Vox with the dishes before moving back to the living room and reclaiming your spot on the couch. He joins you not a moment after, flicking through Netflix for something to watch. You let him pick what to put on as you leaned into his side. You were positioned somewhat awkwardly; feeling unsure about fully cuddling into him. You don’t know if it was because of your embarrassment or just wanting to be considerate and not cling to him if he needed to get up. Ultimately, you didn’t have to worry about it for too long. Feeling the weight of Vox’s arm shift around you, his hand lightly clasping the shoulder not already pressed against him. When you don't pull away, he pulls you further into his side, allowing you to feel just how warm he is. Releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you all but melt into his side. Basking in his warmth. Feeling extremely satisfied, Vox can’t help but press a light kiss on your head. The hand still on your shoulder runs soothingly over the fabric of the sweater– his sweater.

“You know,” your gaze shifts to find him already watching you, “you do look good in my sweater.”

“Mmm, it is very comfy. I might just steal it from you.” You joke; though you are a little tempted by the thought.

“Cheeky brat.” He mutterers with a fond roll of his eyes.

The two of you remain like that for a while. Snuggled against each other, silently taking comfort in each other's presence. Gradually, you can feel your attention shift from the TV to the demon beside you. Looking up at him slowly, you take in every feature of his face as his focus remains on the TV. Your mind drifts back to thinking of ways you could potentially thank him for loving you as he does. It might seem silly, and you know he would gently scold you for thinking you needed to replay him for such a thing. But you wanted to. The only problem is that there isn't anything you could physically do right at this moment.

Or at least that’s what you thought until an idea popped into your head.

Of the two of you, it was normally Vox who instigated physical affection. It wasn’t that you didn't want to; it was just that your embarrassment and nervousness more often than not overruled your wants of affection. Except tonight, you wanted to change that.

Feeling the heat of your gaze on him, he turned his head to meet your eyes. “Is something wrong, love?” As he spoke, you couldn’t help but let your gaze trail from his golden eyes down to his lips. Vox caught onto that immediately. Testing the waters, he intentionally wets his lips and feels incredibly amused as he watches you grow more flustered. The corners of his mouth twitch in a smile, bringing you back up to his eyes.

“Uh–umm, well I–” You cleared your throat, your attention subconsciously trailing back towards his lips. This time, his lips fully curl into a smile. The hand on your shoulder shifts down to your waist. The motion makes you feel even more bashful.

It’s not as if you haven't kissed before. You’ve done it multiple times. When he visits you. When you separate for the evening. Sometimes he’ll just be feeling affectionate and give you a random peck while the two of you are spending time with each other.

Except, this time, it felt different.

Raising one hand, you gently place it on his chest. The house was silent aside from the comforting white noise of the TV and the sound of your pulse rushing through your ears. Sitting up slightly, you slowly start inching your face closer to his. It’s clear what you want to do, and he’s not pushing you away. Except it seemed like he still wanted to tease you just a bit more. His eyes remained open, staying fixated on you. The expression on his face says, ‘ask me,’ which only causes you to feel more flustered. “Are you…” your voice is barely above a whisper, soft breath fanning against his lips. “Are you gonna close your eyes?” The words are shaky as they leave your mouth. You could feel his laughter more than hear it with the hand you still had resting on his chest.

“Not until you ask me, sweetheart.” His eyes are half-lidded as he peered at you. His gaze filled with love, but once again, that certain emotion you still couldn’t quite pinpoint. The look he’d given you multiple times throughout the day. More prominent now than ever.

He was messing with you again, the tease. You can’t help it when your lips purse into a small pout, but huffing in resignation nonetheless. “May I kiss you… please?” Pushing your face closer with the last word, hoping to entice him out of teasing you further. Your half-lidded gaze pleaded with him to finally let you connect your lips.

Vox chuckles, reaching a hand up to caress your cheek. His voice lowering an octave as he spoke softer. “Of course you can, darling.”

Finally, with permission, you softly plant your lips onto his with the lightest touch, closing the distance. You were still feeling a bit hesitant; not usually the lead in kisses. Vox, however, was calming you down with the circular motions his thumb was making along your cheek. Feeling a bit bolder, you push your lips a little firmer against his. Tilting your head to deepen the kiss as your hand slid up from his chest to his neck. Vox kissed back with the same enthusiasm, yet you could tell that he was fully letting you control the kiss. His motions do not pursue anything more than what you initiate. And you’re grateful for that.

Pulling back after a moment, you drink in the much-needed air, feeling a bit breathless. A mix of embarrassment and intoxication flutters in your chest over just how nice Vox’s lips felt against yours. With your hands still on him, you could feel the way he was also breathing a bit heavier than before. You dare to glance at your boyfriend's expression, only to find his intense gaze already focused on you. Neither of you dared to move. Hands remain firmly on the other, not wanting to pull away fully. A collective thought rang through both of your minds.

‘I want more.’

Moving forward once more, you felt more confident in kissing him this time. He let out a deep sigh of contentment as he moved the hand on your cheek down so that both of his hands rested on your waist. Pulling you closer to him as he fully turned towards you, wanting you pressed against his chest. You also made an effort to get closer as the kiss grew more heated. Both your hands moved to caress his face. Wanting, needing his lips to be connected to yours. It became a priority higher than breathing. Yet you still didn’t feel like you were close enough. Shifting your weight around, you moved your legs, so you were in his lap; effectively straddling him. Being in such a daze, it had yet to dawn on you that you were now making out – Vox’s tongue making itself at home in your mouth.

However, you're abruptly broken from your subconscious state when a whine tears itself from your throat. Frantically pulling away, you cover your mouth as you stare wide-eyed at your boyfriend before darting around the room in a flustered panic. Desperately thinking of an explanation before you heard Vox chuckle, your gaze was drawn back to him. His cheeks were a light dusting of pink, and his lips were moist and red from your previous make out. When you locked eyes with him, you caught sight of that emotion again. And finally, the dots connect and you swallow hard. Lust.

One of Vox’s hands shifted from your waist to your thigh. Sliding ever so slowly inwards towards a very dangerous place causing you to shiver. In anticipation – and panic. Your eyes dart towards the spot as one of your hands jumps to stop him. Immediately, his hand froze in place, and his expression shifted to concern. Removing his hands from you completely, he meets your gaze while apologetically asking, “I’m sorry love, am I moving too fast?” Except you can’t retain eye contact, dipping your head toward your chest. He moved his head forward to try to catch your eyes with his, hoping to get a read of your expression. It didn’t help much though, as you’d shut your eyes tightly. Too embarrassed to look at him.

“U–um yes, but no–I mean–” Your eyes open only to fixate on your hands as you fidget with them between your bodies. With a sigh, you try to swallow around the lump that had formed in your throat. Yet it still doesn’t stop your words from coming out a bit wobbly. “I’ve–uhh, never done anything like this before, so umm..”

Vox looked a bit confused, raising an eyebrow in question. “You’ve never made out with someone before?”

“Umm no, not that! I–uh, I’ve never…” You huffed at your inability to speak properly and quickly blurted out your next words. “I’ve never had sex before.” You were met with silence. The only sounds filling the room was your combined breathing and the no longer comforting white noise of the TV. Your eyes shut once more as you braced yourself for something. Anything.

Realistically, you knew Vox wasn’t going to make fun of, or degrade, you for being a virgin. Except your anxiety was begging to convince you he’d be disappointed. I mean, he’s a 400-year-old demon. It’s practically inevitable that he’s had partners before that were way better at this than you. You just didn’t want him to have a bad time. You heard a huff from him and almost deflated on the spot. Yet you weren’t expecting what came out of his mouth next.

“Darling, look at me…” Vox gently raises his hands to hold your face, guiding your head to look directly at him. Blinking your eyes open, your breath nearly hitching in surprise. You feel a swell of emotions build up within you at the sheer amount of love you see in his eyes. “I know what your brain is doing. I am not disappointed that you have no experience.” He rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs and you put your hands on top of his, wanting the comforting feeling to stay. “I just wish you had told me a bit sooner. We could have had a whole conversation about what to do when you felt ready. If you ever feel ready.” He shrugged his shoulders as he continued. “If sex was not something you wanted, it would not make or break our relationship. I am more than capable of taking care of my own needs.” He laughed lightly, trying to lift your mood.

You take in a shaky breath, trying to calm your emotions. Though your eyes well with tears, you smile at him. He was so perfect for you and to you. Who knew a demon could be a better partner than most humans you’ve met. “I’m sorry, I really should have told you earlier...” Your eyes drift away for a second as you collect your thoughts. “I guess I just felt slightly embarrassed. Especially since I wouldn’t know where to start asking… I’ve never really had anyone I could talk with about it before.” The last part is spoken more so to yourself.

“It’s alright, love. Remember, you can talk to me about anything. There are no stupid questions in this matter.” He shifted the both of you slightly. “Here, lay back with me. We can just chill for the rest of the night.” He starts to remove his hands from your face. But, with your hands still covering his, you swiftly keep hold of them. Vox looks back at you with confusion, tilting his head slightly to express his feelings.

You can feel a lump in your throat but are determined in your feelings, wanting to be honest with him. “Vox, I–” The way your heart pounded so fast in your chest, you swear Vox could hear it himself “I’m ready now,” He looked at you seriously, pulling his hands away to place them on your shoulders.

“Are you sure? Don’t feel like you have to just because we got heated earlier.”

“I’m sure, I promise.” You tilt your head, pressing a kiss on the palm of his hand as your eyes remain locked with his. “I’ve been thinking about it for a hot minute, but like I said earlier… I just… I didn’t know how to ask.” Vox didn’t say anything else, but you could see the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. He lets you go so he can reach over and turn off the TV. You were about to ask what he was doing, but squeaked suddenly when you felt his large hands on your ass. You’d all but forgotten that you were in his lap. He stands from the couch, causing your arms and legs to wrap around him in paranoia. He can’t help but chuckle at your cute reaction. The demon starts walking down the hall, taking the same route you did earlier, and it only takes you a second to realize he was taking you to his bedroom. You could feel heat begin to well up in your stomach.

Vox set you down as soon as he entered his room, closing his door behind the both of you. “Sit on the bed, love. I have a few things to say before we do anything further.” Confusion washed over your face, but you did as you were told. Moving across his room and past the sliding doors before making yourself comfortable on his plush bed. There's a subtle tension in your body as you watch him remove his suit jacket and put it on a dresser before rolling up the sleeves of his maroon dress shirt. Not really understanding why; you felt the heat between your legs flare up as you watched him, causing you to clench your thighs together.

The demon then proceeded to make his way toward you, sitting so close to you that his thigh brushed against yours. His hand rests on your shoulder before sliding down your arm to turn you slightly toward him. These soft touches weren’t helping your already hormonal brain from imagining all the things his hands could do to you. However, you take a deep breath and try to remain as calm as possible as he begins to speak once more.

“Alright, first things first, love. I need you to tell me how much you know about safe words and the color system.”

“Uh,” your mouth shuts as you think it over. “Well, I know safe words are meant to be like a hard stop. The color system is like the traffic lights, right?” Vox nods his head at your words.

“Yes.” His tone was firm but still caring. “These are verbal ways for the Dom, or person leading, to gauge how their partner is doing without having to break out of a scene. Green is an ‘I’m okay’ or ‘I’m good to continue’. Orange works for a variety of things, but it still stands for ‘slow down, check in’.” He brings the hand on your arm up to your head, softly petting your hair, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible as he continues. “And as you said, red and safe words are for all play to come to an immediate stop. Aftercare should be immediately initiated, and at some point, there should be a discussion about what went wrong.” His free hand reaches up to caress your face. “Never hesitate to say red, or to use your safe word. Understood?” Immediately, you nod.

“Now,” he continues, “because this is your first time I will be taking the position of Dom.” Your mouth opened at that, however, you quickly shut it again. Untimely it would be for the best; knowledge from the internet does not equivocate experience in real life. “And because we haven’t had a chance to talk about this more in-depth beforehand, we’ll just stick to the color system for now. We will discuss safe words in the future. Now, Darling, do you know what a non-verbal queue is?”

“Well,” your head tilts to the side in thought, “I assume it’s a non-verbal… safe word?”

Vox smiles and places a kiss on your forehead. “Exactly love. It’s one of the best ways for you to communicate with me just in case–” he pulls back just enough for you to see a mischievous smirk curling at his lips– “I fuck you so good that you can’t speak.” You can’t help the immediate reaction of sputtering at his wording, your eyes widening as you try to look anywhere but at him. Even when explaining serious things, he just can’t seem to hold back from teasing you – the motherfucker. After a moment, Vox cleared his throat, steering you both back on topic. “Usually it's a certain number of taps with two or three fingers. At least that’s the most common one. You could also tell me to watch for a pattern, such as you clenching and un-clenching your fist, or you could blink rapidly.” Vox glided his hand from your hair, this time moving to hold your hand. The feel of his big palm enveloping yours was a desired comfort. “What would you like to use, my dear?”

Taking a moment to think about it, your free hand subconsciously begins tracing the structure of his hand wrapped around your own. Still a bit unsure, you sit up straight and hold up your hand, your fingers mimicking what you were saying. “I’ll hold up three fingers and tap you three times. Is anywhere on the body alright or should it be more specific?” You were still a bit nervous, your voice wavering at your last word. Though Vox answers you with another kiss on your forehead.

“That’s perfect, love. Now with that out of the way…” He releases your hand and moves it to rest on your back. You’re not confused for long, as he repositions himself before softly urging your body to lie back, sinking into the soft sheets beneath you. His body hovers over yours as one hand presses firmly on the mattress beside your head and the other slides out from under your back, making way to the buttons on his shirt. “I’d really like to indulge in your body and show you the pleasures you’ve been pining for.” The demon licks his lips sinfully slow, maintaining eye contact with you as he does, desire fully prevalent in his eyes.

You almost feel yourself explode on the spot, averting your eyes quickly as if his gaze itself would eat you up if you kept looking. This didn’t help how horny you already were. If your thighs were pressed together any tighter, you swear your legs would fuse into one. He finished unbuttoning his shirt with ease, chest becoming exposed to you fully. Your hands twitched forward before hesitating with embarrassment. Vox noticed this, his deep chuckle sending shivers down your spine.

“It’s okay, you can touch me, baby.” His hands guided yours to his pecs, letting you feel the warmth of his skin and the quick beating of his heart. Enraptured, your hands moved over his chest with a feather-like touch, drawing out a satisfied hum from him. He lowered his face closer to yours, causing you to grip his chest as he drew closer before he captured your lips in a kiss. Lips moving against each other in such a way that drew a soft sigh from you. When he tried to pull back, you could help but follow, causing him to smile. “You have no clue what you do to me, love…” Vox’s words came out in a low whisper, almost breathless, before he kissed you again.

Releasing another satisfied sigh against his lips, returning the kiss with just as much vigor. The smacking of your lips together only adds to the intensity, his tongue wasting no time in entering your mouth. Vox tasted immaculate to you – unsure if this was a normal demon trait or simply just your extreme attraction to him. Sliding your hands from his chest to his back, you pull him in closer; needing him closer. This drove another airy laugh from him as his hands finally graced you with a more intimate touch. One reached under his hoodie you were wearing, making its way to your bare chest. The other tugged at your shorts, to which you lifted your hips just enough for him to pull them down.

In between the passionate moving of your lips and tongues, Vox spoke up, his tone husky. “You can be a bit more greedy, love.” The hand on your chest fondled you, his fingers gracing your nipple. You let out a sharp gasp, hands balling into fists against his back. He leaned closer to your ear, breath tickling you with the warmth. “I want you to show how much you want me. I may be leading this, but this is your first time.” He follows his words with kisses down your neck, occasionally leaving nips that make you whine.

‘This man is way too good at riling me up, jeez.’ Your hands moved from his back to the front of his shirt, wanting it off so you could see all of his torso. He seemed to get the signal as you felt him smirk on your neck. He pulled back from you entirely, sitting back on his knees as he lets his shirt slide off his shoulders. You take this opportunity to remove his your hoodie, having some slight difficulty as your eyes are glued to his motions. ‘Why does him taking off his shirt look so hot?!’ You take a deep breath as you get the hoodie off; only your underwear remains.

Vox takes you in as you lay before him, completely intoxicated by your entire being. Every little noise you’d make when he touched you, the way your eyes fixated on him anytime he did something. It was truly a wonder you hadn’t noticed the bulge in his pants. To be fair, he could practically feel your shyness radiating off you, preventing you from making any bolder moves. But he’d help you overcome that. He shifts forward for his hips to press and grind into you, smirking when he hears you gasp. Vox slid one of his hands to grasp the underside of your thigh, drawing it up to press the apex of your sexes even closer together. You reach a hand up to tangle in the base of Vox’s hair, slightly tugging at the strands as your hips twitch forward with his guidance. He laughs teasingly at your reaction, continuing to rub his hips against you as his bulge glides against your most sensitive parts, causing you to moan and gasp. It felt so different. So new. This was unlike anything you’ve ever done in an attempt to pleasure yourself. Physically feeling another person against you was way better than anything you’d imagined or could have tried to replicate.

Vox leans down to attend to your neck again, biting and sucking with the intention of leaving hickeys. Finally, you decided to take his advice and be greedier. Slowly, you start to push back against him, rutting your hips in time with his rubbing. The friction causes him to groan in satisfaction as you let out your own pleasurable sigh. Taking your free hand, you slide it down his chest, making way to the hem of his white dress trousers. You were in your underwear, so it would only be fair for him to match you. With slow movements, you unbuttoned and unzipped him, your hand skimming over his bulge as you do so.

Letting out a breathy moan of his name as he bit down harder at your boldness. “Vox–” You palmed at him, curiosity taking the majority of your thoughts. You wanted to taste him. If you could even fit him in your mouth, that is. He felt pretty large, and you had never attempted to try on anything before; much too embarrassed. He pulls back from your now surely hickey-ridden neck and hisses through his teeth. His eyes clouded with want, the hand on your thigh tightening its grip, lips parted slightly and bruised from putting his lips to work on you.

Taking this opportunity, you raise your other hand, pulling at his waistline. You can tell he’s about to speak, but still, you quickly verbalize what’s been in your mind since your hands slid down him. “May I, umm… suck you off? Please?” You bite your lip harshly, surprised that you even got that out of your mouth. And seemingly you caught your boyfriend off guard as well.

Vox was frozen in place for a hot minute, almost like he was fully processing what you had just asked. After it was processed, he took a sudden breath as he appeared to forcefully cease his movements. Almost like he was holding himself back from saying something – or, more accurately put, doing something. You swear you saw his eyes go from the beautiful gold you know to a flash of pink. You almost thought about totally backpedaling your statement, ‘I think I accidentally awakened a beast–’ Except before you could blurt anything out, Vox finally released his breath with a verbal ‘Hah’, before leaning back down to give you a gentle kiss on the forehead. Confusing you even more than before.

He brings a hand up to smooth over the top of your head, pushing your hair back. “Not this time, love. Maybe next time we do this. I want you to experience the pleasure, and I’ll take mine from seeing you feel good.” You gulped hard, but nodded in understanding. You were honestly a bit disappointed, but you fully understood where he was coming from. This is your first time, after all, and he didn’t want you to lift a finger while he spoils you.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Vox thumbing at your bottom lip, your eyes shifting back to his face quickly. He releases another breath and smirks at your reaction, his eyes looking mischievous as you once more notice a bit of the pink hue return to his eyes. “You’ve given me a good idea, though, love. How about I return the favor of you wanting to serve me–” Vox placed his other hand on your empty thigh, hands creeping up slowly to drag down your underwear as he moved his head down to kiss your chest– “by giving you some much-deserved service to your most precious places.” You trembled at the way his voice deepened, hands gripping tightly at the sheets below.

“I–I think I would like that very much…” You glanced away shyly, lifting your hips slightly to help him with his motions. “But… um, you might need to hold me down. I don’t want to kick you…” You knew how your body would react, at least somewhat from the times you’d touched yourself. Though you don’t doubt it’ll be ten times more effective with someone else’s touch.

Hearing a growl, your eyes snap back down to Vox, startled by the sudden sound. You were not mentally prepared for what came out of his mouth next. “Darling, you have no idea how much I would love to do that. You make it so hard to hold back, fuck.” You ascended on the spot, making your body go comically limp as you inhaled sharply. Vox openly laughed at your reaction, bringing his head back up to be face-to-face with you. “Are you alright, love? Am I teasing you too much?”

Shaking your head a bit, you pouted in his direction. “No, it’s just… god, your voice is so stupidly hot! I didn’t think the title ‘Voice Demon’ was literal.” You threw your hands up in exaggeration and huff. “I… I just need to get used to you talking like that, 'cause I know you. You’re not gonna shut up.”

Vox chuckles and you can feel his fingers tracing circles on your thighs. “It gets a reaction out of you, darling. Of course, I’m not gonna stop.” You lightly punch him in the arm, and he lets out his little gremlin laugh before speaking again. “Come now, let’s not stall anymore. I’m supposed to be giving you a memorable first time, love.” Once again, he moves his way down your body, leaving kisses and small bites with his fangs to reignite the fire in your body. Letting out small pants, your hands making their way back to his hair.

Vox makes his way in between your legs, licking his lips as he peaks up at you. His hands spread your thighs apart and up, putting you in a prime position to be eaten as his grip becomes firmer. Without even testing it, you knew if you even attempted to move at all, you wouldn’t be going anywhere, his hands tightly pushing on you. “Is my grip hurting you at all?”

“N–No, this is honestly perfect. Can I, um, can I keep my hands in your hair?” Vox's expression shifts back into one of lust at your question before leaning in and darting his tongue over your sex, making you gasp at the sudden contact.

“Please do.” His words came out more akin to a purr, causing you to shudder at the heat of his breath on you. “Don’t hesitate to pull and grip at it as well. I’ll be trying my best to make you squirm, love.” He punctuates his sentence by pressing a kiss to your thigh.

Biting your lip, your hands react to his words by tightening their grip on his hair slightly. He latched his mouth onto you and you can't help the way your body shudders as his tongue starts to flick and prod against you. Breathing out his name as your head falls back against the pillows and you moan. He can feel your thighs begin to tremble as he picks up the pace, getting into a steady rhythm with his mouth. Fuck, he’d love to sink his teeth into your thighs. Coat them in bruises and bite marks, a reminder that he was the one to bring you this pleasure. ‘Another time,’ he thinks to himself. Another time, he’d allow himself to act upon his wants; for now, this was about what you wanted. You felt like you were on cloud nine. The sensation was entirely new to you. And quite frankly, you couldn’t get enough. As your hands gripped his hair tighter, you eased your hips into him, wanting his mouth to be as close to you as possible.

Vox groaned against you, encouraging your movements. The deep rumble of his voice only made the pleasure increase. He kept his eyes on you, feeling his cock twitch at your expressions and how unashamed you were being with your voice. God, he wanted to break you. Wanted to show you the full extent of his desires. But shushes those thoughts, mentally shaking his head at himself. ‘Another time,’ he reminded himself once more. Vox was fully intent on making this about you. Showing you all the things he wants to do would have to come later on. ‘And what an exciting thing to look forward to.’

He pulls back for a moment and you whine at the lack of contact. Picking up your head to look directly at your boyfriend, desperation written across your face. Vox lets out a long breath, his nails slightly digging into your thighs. “You taste so fucking good, love. Can I make you cum like this?”

You wasted no time in responding, nodding your head vigorously. “Yes! Please please please, make me cum. I need it–I need your mouth–” You would have felt embarrassed over the words you just unabashedly moaned out if it weren’t for you feeling so overwhelmingly turned on. Enjoying Vox’s mouth so much more than you probably should’ve, but right now you just wanted the ecstasy to return, wanted to ride the high of this new feeling until you came. Luckily for you, the demon wasted no time in engulfing you with his mouth again, twisting and prodding his tongue twice as fast as before.

You both moaned without shame as Vox continued his actions, picking up the pace. He growled and groaned into you, making sure to leave no inch of you untouched by his mouth. Your legs kicked in the air, and your body reacted to the build of pleasure by trying to clamp your thighs close. Vox wouldn’t let you, however, his hands keeping you firmly in place as he kept you spread.

“Vo–Vox–oh god! Please, I’m gonna–!” Your eyes started to water as you felt Vox give you the last push you needed, his mouth moving rougher. He watched as your back arched and you let out a euphoric moan, gripping his hair tightly and tugging on it. He swallowed all of you, only making you whimper from the continued pleasure as his tongue slowly lapped you up. Refusing to let even a drop of your taste escape him.

Licking his lips, Vox could feel the way your thighs trembled in his hands from the aftershocks, and eventually, he pulled back. Sitting up, he gently helped guide your shaking legs down as you caught your breath. Your hands dropped down from his hair, reaching up shakily to push your hair out of your face. Even after a few moments, you could still feel yourself throb in aftershocks, and you swallowed hard. Your throat was dry from how hard you had been panting and moaning. “Holy fuck…”

Vox repositions himself above you, letting out a quiet laugh at your words. Reaching up, you wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to keep physical contact with him. You lightly tug him down with your arms so his chest makes contact with yours. Still taking deep breaths as your heart was continually beating wildly in your chest. Though the thing that surprised you most was that you were still very, very horny.

“I assume by that reaction, I don’t need to ask if that was good. Right, love?” All you could do was nod, averting your eyes from his. He couldn’t help but find the way you pout extremely cute.

“I… umm, I don’t know what came over me. God, I said such embarrassing things!” You take your arms off his neck, covering your face, which causes him to laugh.

“My darling, it’s totally fine.” One of his hands moves to play with a lock of your hair. “When you moan like that, telling me what you want–” A deep groan rumbles in his chest, cutting off his sentence. “Well, frankly, it is incredibly sexy. Just hearing the way you enjoy yourself almost made me cum.”

With how flustered you are, it takes a moment for you to fully register what he said. Once you do, your arms slowly move from your face before your eyes widen and you sit up quickly, causing him to recoil a bit as he sits back. “You haven't cum yet?”

He shakes his head calmly as he gives you a gentle smile. Your eyes trail down his body, gulping a bit as your eyes land on his hard cock. He follows your gaze before leaning forward and kissing your cheek before trailing his mouth closer to your ear. “I know you said you were ready, but I wanna ask again. I’ve already made you cum tonight, so if you're done, I will fully respect your decision. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Swallowing hard, you tilt your head to meet his eyes. “I do want to do this, Vox. I want to give you my body, I want to give you all my first…” You reach out to grasp his biceps, pulling him with you as you lower yourself back onto the bed. “...and even though it’s my first time, I want you to feel good, too.”

The look Vox gave you caused your heartbeat to race again. You let out a startled squeak that grows into laughter when he suddenly leans down and starts attacking your face and ears with kisses. He has so much love for you that he can’t even put it into words at the moment. He pulls back from you after one last peck on your lips, smiling brightly at hearing your giggles. “I’m very honored that you're so sure to give this old demon your first. Let’s get you prepped then, love.”

You tilted your head a bit, intrigued, as you watch him lean over and open his nightstand drawer. The first thing he pulls out is a roll of condoms; ripping one off from the pack and setting it away from the others. His hand reaches back into the drawer and proceeds to pull out a bottle of lube before closing the drawer with the back of his hand. Vox picked the condom packet back up and returned to his position over you. He muffles a laugh when he notices your curious expression, but couldn’t hide the amused tone of his voice. “What’s with those eyes, darling? You look a bit confused.”

You clear your throat before biting your lip in embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were staring so intently. “Oh–umm, sorry. Guess I was just surprised, more so about the lube than the condom. Don't condoms come... lubricated?” The pitch of your voice raises as your sentence finishes, visually unsure of your words.

Vox blinked owlishly at you for a second before chuckling. “They do, but my dear, it’s never a bad idea to use more. Besides, spit doesn't make for the best lube, so trust me, this’ll make the… heh, fucking, a lot smoother.”

You huffed at the way he worded the last part, squinting your eyes at him. “Did you have to phrase it like that?” He chuckled, looking right through your mock annoyance.

“Of course, darling. If I know it’ll fluster you, I have to say it.” He doesn’t even attempt to hide his mischievous smile. “You like it~.” Vox laughs as he feels your hand lightly hit his arm, followed by a loud ‘shut up!’ directed at him. He leans forward, catching you off guard once more as he wraps his arms around you. Your embarrassed state was the perfect distraction for him as he captured your lips in a deep kiss. Your eyes widen for only a split second before fluttering closed as you reach your hands up to gently caress his face. Before you part, you can hear the snap of the lube bottle opening, and then the sudden feeling of a cold, slick finger circling over your hole.

Jerking in his hold, squeaking at the sudden feeling. “Holy shit, that’s cold!” swearing as you instinctively tense. Vox, however, is quick to distract you; peppering kisses along your neck and shoulders while easing his finger into you. Your eyes flutter, one of your hands reaching out to firmly grip his wrist.

“Don’t worry, love, just getting you ready. You’re being very good for me, baby.” The way he whispered in your ear caused you to have a full body shiver; your breaths picking up for what felt like the thousandth time tonight. You mentally smacked yourself for questioning the lube. The coldness was no longer a problem, a newfound pleasure rushing through your body. Touching yourself had never felt like this. ‘The internet actually wasn’t lying.’ You would have laughed at that thought, but, at that moment, Vox added another one of his large fingers. Sliding them deep inside you and moving them in and out slowly to stretch you for his length.

“Darling, if your head isn’t too empty right now, could you open the condom? Your body is being so obedient for me.” Your breath hitches at the way he practically purrs those words. “You're just about ready.” Nodding your head, you let out a breathless ‘yes’. Reaching over, hand shakily patting the wooden surface before finally feeling the plastic beneath your fingers. Grasping the condom, you do your best to carefully tear the plastic from the slot; removing the condom from the packaging and, with a trembling hand, presenting it to him. Vox takes it with his free hand while simultaneously sliding his fingers out of you.

“Goood. Now just give me a moment, love.” You watch your boyfriend in wonder as he quickly and flawlessly puts on the condom. He hovers over you not even a second after, his hands guiding your legs around his hips.

You chuckled almost breathlessly and decide to try to get one last quip out before your thoughts would inevitably turn to mush. “Wow, that was fast. Almost like you’ve done this before.”

“My dear, when you’re 400 years old, you get good at certain things.” There is a heat to the way he stares at you through his lashes, his voice dropping an octave with his next words “Now, let me show you my years of experience firsthand.” All the confidence you had to try to tease him vanished. With your hands gripping his forearms, you let your gaze travel down to his cock, where it rested in between your legs. It felt easier to watch the way your bodies pressed together than to look into his eyes. Though the way his length rubbed against you made you gulp, you were extremely thankful for the prep beforehand, as it would make the process of him sliding inside you much easier.

Vox lifted your chin with his fingers, so it forced your eyes to meet his. “Color, dear?”

Your voice was already out of breath as you responded, “Green.”

He smiles as his thumb soothes your lower lip. “I’ll go slowly, love. You’ll still need time to adjust to me once I’m inside. Take deep breaths and if you need to, claw and grip me as hard as you need. If it’s too much, you need to tell me.” He places a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back to look into your eyes. “Do you understand, darling?”

You nod slowly, soaking in every syllable that comes out of his mouth. You respond with a firm ‘Yes’ and are already bracing yourself as you tighten your grip on his arms. He smiles and before he fully settles against you, grabs a pillow. Gently urging you to lift your back before setting it under your hips. You assume it’s for your comfort, or at least that’s what you’ve heard. You don’t have much time to ponder further on it as you feel Vox push against you, his hand guiding his cock into you slowly. Your mouth opens, except no sound comes out as you feel yourself clench down on him. This differed significantly from his fingers. Hell, this was a completely different feeling from any of the toys you had ever used. Feeling the way he stretched you, the way his cock twitched; it was all your mind was preoccupied with as your head fell back from the pleasure.

Vox let out a deep groan as he pushed into you, eyes darting back and forth from your expression to his cock disappearing inside you. Your borderline painful grip on him only fueled him on, yet the sliver of rationale he had took over for a moment. He stopped about halfway, causing you to look up at him, lips parted as you pant.

You gulp hard before asking, “W–why’d you stop?” The hands you had on his forearms subconsciously loosened, thinking that maybe something was wrong. You’re surprised, however, when he brings a hand up to caress your cheek, able to feel the heat of your skin against his palm.

“I just wanna make sure you’re alright, love. Am I hurting you? Your breathing is too hard. Take slow, deep breaths.”

“O–oh! I’m okay, I promise. I just–it feels… it feels so good.” You do your best to even out your breathing after answering and he smiles at you, pecking your forehead.

“That’s perfect, darling. I’m gonna go all the way in, so prepare yourself.” And as he said, Vox shifts his hips forward slowly until his hips are flush against your skin. Biting your lip hard as you feel a whine build in your throat at the feeling of him fully seated inside you. It’s only now that you’ve finally realized what the pillow under your hips was for. The elevation of your hips helped him reach deeper inside, while also supporting your hips.

“Oh fuck–” Every word from your mouth was drawn out. Tightening your legs around his waist and pulling him in further resulting in pleasing reactions from both of you. Your arms slide around his neck as you meet his eyes, your own eyes misty from just the initial pleasure. “Vox, please move. I’m ready, please.”

Vox didn’t say anything in return, just slid his hands down your body to your hips, gripping them firmly. He thrust once, eliciting a loud moan from you before moving again. Picking up a constant pace and pushing your hips into the pillow and mattress. Every movement spurred a moan or whimper from you, your hands tangling in his hair, needing something to hold on to. The lube made the sound of your skin connecting echo loudly in both your ears, only driving him to move faster in you.

Vox leaned his body forward, wanting to engulf you in his scent–his entire being. His rough grip on your hips moved to your thighs, pushing them back as he leaned forward. He wanted to be deeper, wanted to hear more of your sweet moans that were stirring up the heat inside him. His mouth latched onto your neck. Taking up any unmarked skin with his fangs to leave visible reminders of his love along your body. The whine you let out was music to his ears. The way your hips rolled upwards into him was euphoria. He loved every ounce of your being, and having sex with you was now just another way he could express his love to you.

As he continued to kiss and bite at your neck, you couldn’t help but drown in the feeling. The myriad of sounds coming from your mouth likely would have embarrassed you at any other time, but you were currently too far gone to care anymore. You pulled his head in closer and spread your legs further for him, wanting to take in every inch of his cock. You understand now why people say they could get addicted to this. The ecstasy you were feeling was unparalleled. You moaned out his name as he sunk in deeper between your spread thighs, his nails digging into the skin to show his approval.

He pulled back from your neck but refused to let himself go far. His mouth leaves a trail of kisses and bites down your exposed chest, taking extra care to lick and flick at your nipples. You called out his name more frequently, realizing it seemed to rile him up even more. The coupled feeling of Vox’s cock pushing fully in and out of you, and constant attention to your upper half, had your head spinning. Your stomach began to feel tight, and you felt his rhythm start to waver as he went faster.

“V–Vox, I’m gonna cum!” Your hands slide from their grip on his hair to his back, nails digging in from the immense pleasure. He pulls his head away to look at you, lips swollen and pink from their work on you. The pink that you had seen earlier in his eyes was fully visible now. His expression is half-lidded and just as twisted in pleasure as yours. Yet, even with all of Vox’s visible pleasure and the way his hips rud into yours, he slows to a stop, causing you to let out a high whine.

“Baby,” you drew out the word, voice breathy as you spoke, “why’d you stop? We’re both sooo close…” Vox lets out a breathy laugh, and kisses your forehead, pulling back with a smirk on his stupidly attractive face.

“I’m sorry, love. I just had an idea.” He moves his hands off your thighs and places them next to your head. The way he looks hovering above you truly does not help your delayed orgasm. “I was just thinking about how–” he cuts himself off with a groan, clearly lost in his imagery before he continues, “beautiful you’d look riding me. I’d love to see you bouncing on top of me. Of course, only if you are willing.”

You swallow hard, your voice sounding a bit hoarse from all your moaning. “D–does that mean I’ll be taking control?” You wouldn’t lie, you’d had random thoughts about what it’d be like. But those were just passing thoughts. Topping isn’t just about physically being on top, it’s about knowing how to give pleasure and take the lead. It is a very appealing idea, but could you top Vox? You didn’t feel nearly as confident as Vox currently appeared.

Seeming to feel the anxiety radiating off of you, Vox clarifies, “No, love. Being on top of me doesn’t mean you’ll have control.” One of his hands rubs soothing circles over one of your hips. “Unless you want to try taking control. I will not force you to, though. We can just change positions.”

Averting your eyes from him, you take a moment to think it over. On one hand, it’d be good to get experience from it, but on the other… your lack of experience with all of this could cause you to overthink your actions. You know he wouldn’t be upset with you and would likely give you tips if you wanted to, but you still wanted him to get some pleasure from this. After weighing your options, you shake your head and meet his eyes again. “I would like to change positions, but I don’t think changing roles would be good right now. We… We can test it another time.”

He nods and gives you a light peck on the cheek. “Alright, darling. Let me lay back, then you can get on top of me.” Vox slowly pulls out of you, causing you to let out a deep sigh from the sudden emptiness. As you reposition yourself to sit on your knees to wait, Vox grabs himself a fresh pillow, placing it behind his head as he fully lays down. He looks at you with a soft smile and holds his arms out to welcome you to him. The second you are given the okay, you're already crawling over and straddling his waist, his hands resting on your hips as soon as you do. “Color?”

“Green. So, so green.” This causes you both to laugh.

“Go slow as you sink down on me. It’ll feel better that way, I promise.” Vox massages his hands into your hips, eyes filling with anticipation as he watches you closely.

You give a small nod and look down at his cock resting between your legs, still hard, if not harder, than before. Feeling a shiver run down your spine at the sight, you inhale deeply before you take a hold of his length. He lets out a pleased hum at the contact and you gently guide him inside you as you sink down. The new angle and already built-up tension made your hips twitch and your body shake, the ecstasy coming back from the contact.

Vox kept you steady with his hands, lifting his hips to help ease the process. Once his hips were flush against your skin, you both let out soft groans as he lowered his hips back onto the plush bed. Placing your palms on his chest, you give an experimental grind of your hips as you watch your own motions. The demon gripped you tighter, letting out a hiss through his teeth, his eyes fixated on your expression of pleasure.

“Go ahead, love.” Your attention snaps back to his face. “You don’t need to hesitate.” You hold his gaze for a moment before you nod, lifting your hips before pushing them back down to sink onto his length.

Your mouth falls open, eyelids fluttering at the new angle. A pleasurable shudder coursed through you at how much deeper he felt from this position. You could tell he enjoyed it as well; urging your hips up with his hands, needing the sinking feeling again. You start a steady rhythm, letting out hot breaths and moans as his cock pushes deep inside you. The sound of skin meeting skin resonated through the room, coupled with the heavy panting coming from both of you. Balling your hands into fists, your mouth hangs open as you bounce on top of him with vigor. Your moans only get louder as the tightening feeling in your stomach comes faster than before.

“Fu–fuck…Vox, I’m so close again. I–oh–I’m gonna cum!” Your words come out shaky and breathless, as you leaned forward, sliding your hands onto the bed to pick up the pace easier. Vox moved his hands to your ass, groping and digging his nails in as he looked up at your ecstasy-ridden face just inches from his.

“I’m close as well, baby. God, I wanna watch you cum–” He gasps, before groaning in pleasure. “Please cum. Cum for me, sweet thing.” Shifting to get enough balance, he ruts his hips up into you, matching your greedy pace with his own. Vox could feel you tighten around him, trying desperately to reach that peak. He let out a low, gruff sigh, his eyes fixated on you as you moaned out his name. God, the way you moaned his name, like he was the only thing you ever needed, the only thing you’ve ever wanted.

You gripped and pulled at the sheets under your hands, your pace becoming erratic as you finally reach your climax. Burying your face in the crook of Vox’s neck, you let out a cry of pleasure as your body shakes from its second orgasm. Vox, with just a few more thrusts, presses your ass down on him further, reaching his orgasm as well. You shudder from the guttural moan he lets out, and the way his hands grip you, making you stay close. After a moment of collecting yourselves, you lift your head up to look at your boyfriend. You open your mouth to say something, but Vox is quicker, capturing your lips with his. He puts his hand behind your head, kissing you like he’d been waiting to feel your lips for years. You pull back after the impromptu make-out session and look at him in slight confusion.

“What was that for?” You tilt your head slightly to accentuate your question, but he just gives you a lazy smile and strokes your hair.

“I just really love you, darling.” He tries to maintain eye contact with you, but you refuse and sit up, a big pout on your face.

“Vox, please, you being so sweet shouldn’t be hot.” The demon just chuckles and sits up as well, keeping you in his lap as his arms wrap around you.

“Oh? Then maybe I should switch to being more down-bad?” The sweet smile on his face changes to a devious smirk as he moves his face closer to yours.

“I–That’s it. I’m done for. K.O.’ed” You cover your face with your hands. Bad idea, cause it just gives your boyfriend the element of surprise.

With a mischievous look, Vox smugly, purposefully, rolls his hips. “You’re done for? Oh no, that’s such a shame~”

The squeak that came out of your mouth surprised you, drawing your hands down to cover your mouth. With a muffled voice, you try to scold him, “H–Hey! Don’t move too much, I'm sensitive–”

Vox just chuckles and rolls his hips again, making you whine out his name. You were adorable, and he only wanted to mess with you more every time you reacted to his teasing. He shifted closer, lips ghosting your ear, his hot breath fanning against you as he spoke low. “Lift your hips for a moment, darling. I need to change this condom.”

He stroked your thighs as you lifted your hips, letting out a breathy moan as you did. His cock slid out of you with ease, and Vox’s hands went from your thighs to his cock. Even after just finishing, he was still so hard. As he removed the used condom, you lean over and quickly grab another wrapper from the nightstand. Vox chuckles at your enthusiasm, glad he could rile you up again with just a roll of his hips. You both moved quickly; him tying the used condom and throwing it aside as you got a new one out and ready. As soon as you handed it to him, he tugged it on, making sure it was properly secure before you straddled him once again.

“Come on sweet thing, let me inside you again.” The demon’s large hands gripped your hips as you let him guide you down on his cock again. Both let out a shuddering breath at how sensitive you each still were. He wasted no time; not even a moment after you’ve fully sunk down on him does he start thrusting into you again.

You grip his wrist tightly, wanting him to keep guiding you as you desperately try to keep pace with him. Your eyes watering from the overstimulation, and your throat was becoming dry again from your panting and moaning. Your legs felt like jelly, and you could tell you were gonna be sore in the morning, but that didn’t stop you from grinding down onto Vox. His nails dug into your hips, the slapping of his thrust getting sloppy as he felt you clench around him again, ready for another orgasm. Your words came out almost unintelligible, and your tone was desperate as you told him you were going to cum again. “V–Vox! I–!”

With him feeling just as sensitive, he was already right at the edge, ready to cum again. “I know, sweet thing. I’m right there with you.” He quickened his pace.

It only took a few more thrusts before you doubled over onto his chest, moaning loudly as his hips pushed up into you. Reaching your peaks together, hips stuttering as you breathed heavily. Bodies covered in sweat from the multiple orgasms. Vox looked down at you, your head buried in his chest as you tried to get your breathing under control. He moved one hand from your hip to your head, resting it there.

Lifting your head enough to rest your chin on his chest, gaze meeting his. You both stare into the eyes of the other for a moment, seeming to soak in all that just happened. Vox spoke first, having a content smile on his face. “My love… thank you for letting me experience this with you.” He raised his hands, cupping your cheeks with both his hands. “I am extremely honored that you trust me this much to give you the pleasure you desire. I’m happy that I now have another way to show you just how much love I have for you, my sweet thing.” Vox’s voice was filled with care, and you could see in his eyes that he meant every word, saying it with his full heart.

Leaning into his hands, you smile, one of your own lifting to rest over his as your thumb rubs over his knuckles. “I’m just happy you also had a good time. That was incredible and I couldn’t be happier to give you my first. I…” You swallowed hard, looking away bashfully. “I love you, Vox.” You looked back at him when you heard his soft chuckle and he leaned his head toward you to kiss your forehead.

“I love you too, baby… so much.” He leaned his forehead to rest against yours, you both closing your eyes to soak in the moment. Remaining like that for a few moments, reveling in each other's presence, before Vox spoke up again. “Come on, love. Let’s go get cleaned up.” His voice was soft as he nuzzled his head into you softly, coaxing you into motion. “You still need your rest. You have a project to work on tomorrow.”

“Good idea, besides I don't think we both wanna be sweaty and sticky.” You lifted yourself off of him, letting out a deep breath as his softening cock slips out of you. “Will you give me motivation by cuddling me when we sleep?”

“I would cuddle you regardless, darling.” He laughs, pushing himself to the edge of the bed before getting up and properly disposing of both condoms. “But yes, I’ll give you all the affection you want and tell you just how proud I am of you.” He offers his hand to you and helps you get up when you take it. He’s frozen in place for a moment as he looks over at you. His brain conjures up other scenarios; ones where you wouldn't have to leave in the morning. Every day he could look forward to falling asleep and waking up by your side.

You tilt your head, asking if he’s okay. He just smiles; rubbing his thumb over your knuckles and envisioning a ring on your bare finger. ‘Someday,’ he reassures himself again.

“It’s nothing, love. Let’s get you cleaned up now, shall we?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

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#vox akuma x reader #luxiem x reader #nijisanji x reader #vox akuma #luxiem #nijisanji luxiem #nijisanji vox #nijisanji en #nijisanji #x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #Written by Mod S 👿

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kitashousewife · 10 months

Text

in its place

an: i'm back with a full piece! this is based on alonica by LANY. this is probably my new favorite song and it is SO powerful. i recommend listening to it!

pairings: timeskip!atsumu x fem!reader

warnings: angst! stress! dissociation! angst to comfort, mentions of eating and drinking, established relationship

the weeks have dragged on lately, days seeming almost excruciatingly long no matter how many breaks are taken. the end of the summer has decided to go out like a lion.

schedule changes, and last-minute plans that grab the entire structure of the day with a greedy fist. long days, longer nights, and limited sleep.

needless to say, atsumu is suffering.

little by little, you've noticed atsumu become almost a shell of himself. it started off subtly, with small moments of him losing attention or ending the conversation quicker. short chats turned into silence after a couple weeks.

about three weeks ago, atsumu began losing interest in everything. typically one for sharing every detail of his day with you, gushing about his incredible practices or a new PR while lifting with the team, he was nothing if not excited. lately though, despite your best efforts, you can't get more than a few words out of him.

his smiles are small, his eyes are tired. atsumu's laugh travels through the house in both volume and joy, boisterous and contagious and full love life. now though, it's hollow.

numb, is how he put it the other night.

after a long day for the both of you, atsumu sat on the couch with your head on his shoulder. he didn't say much, only asking about your day and nodding along for the duration of your story. when he didn't react to some rather juicy gossip from work, you sat up. he jumped slightly at your abruptness, but said nothing.

"atsumu, im worried about you."

his ears rang from the silence. he opened his mouth to speak, but shut it quickly.

"do you want to talk about it?" you hold his hand and look at him. he nods.

"i don't feel like myself," he whispers. "im overwhelmed, i'm over it. everything. im gettin' sick of volleyball, i'm tired of coach and his shit advice," he sighs.

"i just don't know what to do."

that night, the two of you planned a trip. once the weekend came, the two of you would drive a couple hours down the coast, stay in a hotel, and spend the weekend relaxing and recovering.

when the weekend finally came, you could feel the relief washing over atsumu. he was smiling wider, he was speaking louder, and he couldn't stop asking when it was time to leave. when he began driving, he tossed his phone into your lap.

"pick somethin' sweetheart, we've got a long road ahead."

the drive went by rather quickly, and lots of stories were exchanged between the two of you. atsumu shared a story from his youth, when his mom got time off work and took him and osamu to the coast for the weekend. he was cracking up, grinning ear to ear, and you were doing anything you could to keep him going.

you arrived to your hotel around sunset, and atsumu rushed to check the two of you in to give you guys enough time to catch it on the sand. the two of you rushed down, laid a blanket down and sat down just in time for the sun to kiss the waves.

"just in time," you sigh, and he kisses your forehead.

"thanks to me, ya couldn't find the entrance to the hotel. i'm never gonna forget that," he smirks.

"how could you? you bring it up every few minutes," you nudge his side and he snorts.

the sun sets in silence, waves crashing with a hum as twilight takes over the sky.

atsumu feels restless. half of him wishes he would've stayed home, anxious about the work he's leaving behind. the other half of him is ecstatic to be away from it all.

the worry and the thoughts bubble up, slowly until they begin to sit at the top of his stomach. he's settling in, but with each passing moment he feels soaked with emotion and a yearning he can't explain.

his eyes look up at the sky and widen in amazement. the tranquility, the stillness, and the calming feeling become too much for him.

the stars glow against the purple sky, almost too bright to be real. the sand under his palms is cool and grounding, and his throat tightens.

he blinks once, twice, three times. slowly, then all at once, atsumu begins to sob as every emotion shatters the dam in his chest, flowing out mightily with their release.

you wrap your arms around his torso as he shakes, chest bouncing as the tears roll down his face, angelic as they sparkle in the moonlight. after a few minutes, he calms down, sniffling as he catches his breath.

"sorry," he sniffs, wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"never apologize for crying, 'tsum. you are safe with me," you rub his back.

"i don't know the last time i cried like that," he looks out towards the water again. "everything is just so beautiful, i can't explain it but i just feel so relieved,"

you nod. he pulls you closer.

"even though were a few hours away, i feel at home with ya here. i feel full again,"

he pulls you in for a kiss, deep and special as the world freezes around the two of you. the type of kiss that feels like jumping into a pool, losing your breath, and taking a deep breath of air all at the same time.

"i love you," he sniffles again, cheeks wet with tears and eyes crinkling from a smile.

the two of you stay out well past dark, splashing in the water like children and dancing in the moonlight without any music at all. the two of you run in the sand that feels almost never-ending, filling both of your souls with relief and grounding each other in love and support.

atsumu falls asleep quickly that night, mind clear for the first time in weeks. he holds you close and rests with a smile.

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff

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strawnarrries · 1 year

Text

Heaven

Summary: Niall is away doing promo for Heaven and you miss him in more ways than one.

Requested: No but I'm always open!

POV: 2nd

Warning(s): Phone sex, masturbation, dirty talk

The phone rang three times before his face popped up on your screen, a grin planted on his lips, "Hey baby!"

"Hi," you mimicked his grin, happy to see his face.

Niall had been in LA doing promo for his new single Heaven as well as his upcoming album. He was going to be gone for a total of five weeks and you knew you were going to miss him like crazy. It had been years since you and Niall were long-distance. It was something you two went through pretty often while he was in the band and as well as his first solo tour. Because of Covid, you have had him all to yourself for almost three years now, so you knew it would be hard for him to leave again.

You would have gone to LA with him, but neither of you wanted to go through the hassle of taking your almost two-year-old son on the road, as well as risking him being seen by the public. Once Niall had officially canceled his tour for Heartbreak Weather, you had decided it was the perfect time to start the family you both had been wanting so dearly. Everybody knew it would be a while before things were back to normal, so you knew Niall would be home long enough to be with you throughout your entire pregnancy and the beginning stages of his little one's life.

During that time, he continued to write music, perfecting each song he wrote. Three years later, he realized how much he missed it. He missed interacting with all his fans, going to award shows, and being on tour. All three of you were at a good place for him to get back into the groove of things and start releasing new music, so he did.

"I miss my hubby," you pouted, watching as he started up the car and began driving to your LA home.

"Aw, I miss ya too. What time is it there?"

"Like midnight."

"What'rya doin' up?"

"I couldn't sleep," you hummed softly.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asked concernedly.

"I just miss you," you replied, your voice deepening slightly.

You missed him; every single part of him. It had been about two weeks since you had last seen him. You missed his touch, his lips, the way he made you feel. You wanted him so bad. You were laying down on his side of the bed, the smell of his shampoo coating his pillow and filling your senses, arousing you even more than you already were.

"Just a few more weeks and I'll be home," he soothed.

"No Niall, I mean I miss you in more ways than one," you replied, slightly frustrated that he wasn't picking up on your hints.

"Oh, I see," he smirked, "yer tryna have phone sex wit' me!"

"Niall!" you groaned into your pillow.

"'s been years since we done that, babe," he teased and you rolled your eyes, "well, 'm on me way home and I've got a few hours before me next interview so I think I can squeeze ya int' me schedule."

"You're so annoying," you teased.

He giggled and began asking you about your day while he drove home. You spoke back and forth, telling each other about your days; you spoke about the funny things your son had done and he spoke about the interviews he already attended. It took him about 45 minutes to get home, LA traffic was not on your side today but once he pulled into the garage, you began to get antsy.

"Are ya naked?" he asked as he walked through the door, setting down his things and taking off his shoes.

"No," you replied.

"Go ahead and get naked fer me," he ordered and you immediately obeyed, taking off every piece of clothing you had on.

It wasn't much later that he was up in the bedroom, discarding his clothing as well, getting as excited as you are, "Makin' me feel like a teenager again, babe."

"I miss you so much," you whispered desperately.

You couldn't resist the urge any longer. You reached your hand down to your throbbing center, fingers pressed against your clit and rubbing back and forth.

"Ya touchin' yerself?" he asked.

"Yeah," you whimpered.

"Wanna see ya, prop yer phone up."

You did as you were told, grabbing his pillow from his side of the bed and setting it down by your feet. You propped your phone up against it, doing your best to put it at the perfect angle for him to see, but still make it look sexy, "Dunno how I ever made this sexy."

"Yer always sexy," he smirked.

After flicking on the bedside table light so he could see you better, you leaned back on your left hand to support your body up. You spread your legs again and resumed your activities while he groaned, "Fuckin' hell, yer soaked. Been thinkin' of me?"

"Mhm, all day. Do you like watching me touch myself?"

"Yes, yer so hot."

He positioned his phone in a similar way as you did, revealing himself to you. His hand was wrapped around his member, already throbbing in anticipation. Once comfortable, he began moving his hand up and down, biting his lip as he watched you please yourself.

Your jaw went slack as you quickened your pace. You could already feel your orgasm growing, in desperate need of a release. You imagined your fingers were his, calloused tips moving back and forth across your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

"Talk t' me. What do you wanna do t' me when you get home?" you hummed, wanting to hear his voice.

"Jesus," he groaned, "Everything, babe, I wanna do everything t' ya. I wanna kiss ya and taste ya. Wanna feel you wrapped around me cock. Gonna be so tight fer me once I get home, I just know it."

You whimpered his name as your head lolled to the side, "You always make me feel so good. I wish you were here with me."

"Me too. Not much longer and me fingers will be right where yers are," he breathed out, "Can ya stick one inside of ya?"

You hummed in response, moving south and circling your dripping entrance with the tip of your middle finger. You lifted your head up and watched as you easily slipped it in, feeling just how wet you are. You moved it in and out of you, the sound of your wetness filling the room and Niall cursed to himself. You let out a moan and your eyes fluttered closed.

"Jesus Christ, dis's so hot," he groaned, mostly to himself, "'s it feel good?"

With each entrance, you curled your fingers up, just like he would do. His fingers were much better than yours, longer and able to reach all your special spots. You made yourself feel good, but there was something about Niall's touch that you couldn't fulfill yourself, "Mhm, but not as good as when you do it."

"I know yer body better than ya know yer own, don't I?" he smirked smugly.

You hummed in response, watching as his hand moved up and down his member, squeezing tighter once he got to the tip, precum oozing out with each squeeze. Your mouth watered as you watched him, missing the way he whimpered when you wrapped your lips around him.

"I want you inside me so bad," you whined, your head lolling back again, "You fill me up so perfectly, Ni. I feel so empty right now."

"I'd kill t' be inside ya right now. I miss how ya feel around me. Always so wet and warm, fuck," he breathed out in response.

You laid back down on your back, your hips instinctively bucking up into your hand. You slipped your finger out of your entrance and began spreading your wetness. Landing on your clit again, you moved the tip of your finger back and forth at a more rapid pace, your orgasm drawing closer and closer by the second.

"'m gonna cum," you whimpered softly.

"Do it, baby. Wanna see ya cum all over yer fingers," he encouraged, his voice deep and raspy.

Only a few seconds later and you could feel the tight band in your stomach begin to unravel. Your orgasm took over your entire body, crashing over you with waves of pleasure. Your back arched and your toes curled as your body was numbed with pleasure. You struggled not to moan, not wanting to wake up your son but you couldn't help the small whimpers that left your lips. Not long after you, you heard the deep groans of your husband on the phone, signaling he had just released too. The sounds of his sexy moans carried you through the end of your orgasm, your body slowly relaxing back into the soft sheets beneath you.

You both lay there in comfortable silence while you regained your breath. You soon reached down and grabbed your phone, pulling the covers up to your neck and watching as he did the same.

"'member dat one time we were havin' phone sex and Harry walked in on us," he giggled at the memory of when he was in One Direction.

"Oh gosh Niall, don't even bring that up, I was so embarrassed."

"'m just glad it was Harry and not Louis."

"I probably would've never visited you on tour ever again if it was Louis," you chuckled softly.

"Yer so cute," he grinned as you blushed slightly before he shifted the conversation, "Ya feel better?"

You shook your head.

"No?" he asked.

"Mm mm. I still miss you."

"Few more weeks. I promise. Now get some sleep."

You yawned, "okay."

"Goodnight, baby. I love ya," he hummed softly.

"Goodnight. I love you, Ni."

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

Text

A continuation of Sweet On You (part three Hard Candy here)

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.9k] prompts: Say you want me and I'm yours" and "I don't know what to do. I could teach you." Best friends to lovers, sofa sex, who doesn't have a praise kink?

The walk home to Steve’s house was less awkward than you thought it would be, considering your drunken admission.

But the cool night air had sobered you up and there was something nostalgic about walking down the empty road with your best friend, the night sky inky and endless above you.

Hawkins was quiet, the dull thud of the party left behind and Steve was next to you, one foot in front of the other as he balanced himself on the white lines of the tarmac. You wondered if he could hear your heartbeat in the quiet of it all, if he would hear the way it was rattling off of your rib cage, if his was doing the same.

He stole glances at you, not so subtle gazes from under his lashes when he thought you weren’t looking, as if he wondered where this night was going, where those white lines were leading you both. You turned the corner into his street, the houses growing bigger as you went, the cars on the drive more expensive and the smell of chlorine filled the air, the soft trickle of backyard pools and front lawn fountains filling up the silence.

“You staying?”

It was an almost rhetorical question. Steve knew you would, you always did. There was one of his old basketball shirts balled up under the pillow he knew you liked best, waiting for you since you wore it last weekend, vodka drunk and clutching Robin as Steve steered you home to his.

And besides, you were there with him, on the sidewalk in front of his empty house, breath stuck in your chest ‘cause, oh my god, you told your best friend you were jealous of a girl he was with.

You didn’t know what to say. You knew the boy was simply checking, wondering if the fresh air had changed your mind, had woken you up and made you regret what you’d said when your head had been filled with smoke and bass, tequila on your tongue and a little green monster on your back.

It’s probably why he looked nervous, eyes low, lips a little twisted at the side as if he was preparing for rejection.

But you nodded, leaning lazy against the frame of his porch as he fumbled with the front lock. The night had become warmer, or maybe it was just you, but tension fizzed in the soft breeze and heat gathered on your skin, like the entire town was warning you of a storm brewing.

It felt like something big was about to happen. Something astronomic, something dangerous.

You walked into the dark house when the lock finally clicked, Steve holding the door open for you as he always did, taking his time to put the deadbolt back on, a habit over the years.

Your legs took you to the kitchen, normal routine after a party. You’d normally raid the Harrington’s fridge, scalding yourself on the oven door as you fished out almost burnt pizzas and sharing slices with Steve.

But you stood at the countertop, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and waited for Steve to follow. You heard his shoes hit the floor, one by one before the shuffle of his jacket sliding off his shoulders. When he finally emerged into the room, he flicked the light that hung over the dining table, soft and low, and far away enough from you that it didn’t hurt your eyes.

The entire room was cast in a glow, Mrs Harrington’s love for anything crystal making the lightshade throw reflections across the kitchen, the tiles, Steve’s face.

You swallowed, hard.

His hand found yours, pulling at it from where it was twisted in your shirt sleeve until he could twine his fingers with yours. The boy used it to guide you into him a little, your back still pressed against the counter top and although you’d been wrapped around him not even an hour ago at the party, this felt different.

Intimate, altering.

His other hand caught your chin, lips parting at the sudden touch of him and you obeyed easily when he tilted it up, silently asking you to look at him. Everything about Steve oozed confidence, it always had, and despite the way he put his hands on you, gentle but a little domineering, there was a softness in his eyes that told you he was holding onto some doubt. It flickered there, buried in the warm brown, honey and golden, and it made you soften against him.

His fingers spanned the length of your jaw, reaching to the highest point of your cheekbone and his thumb bumped at the corner of your lips, a touch that sent a shock through you, and briefly, you wondered if that storm you thought you felt outside had arrived.

Steve’s voice was hoarse when he spoke, rough with nerves and the leftover silence you had both walked home in but he murmured to you, eyes trained on your own.

“Did you mean what you said?”

An exhale, an inhale, yours or his you didn’t know. You were close, so much closer now. You didn’t know when your other hand had reached up to clutch at him, his shirt fisted in your hand as if he was the only thing grounding you, as if you had to make sure this was real.

It didn’t feel like a game, like flirting gone too far. You’d toed the line with Steve many times, usually when one or both of you were tipsy, a little high and seeking affection. Sometimes it was a battle, quick words and smart ass comebacks on sharp tongues that eventually turned to teasing, raised brows, tongues pressed against teeth and eyes that gave away too much.

‘Cause this was Steve Harrington. Best friend of ten years, professional piggyback giver, part time babysitter and the only person in this godforsaken town that could call you ‘sweetheart’ and not receive a kick to the shins.

You didn’t wanna ruin that. You couldn’t handle that being taken away.

He saw your doubt too, the nerves. He saw right through you, always had. The boy could read you like a book and it was as infuriating as it was helpful. He gave you the nudge that you needed, his knees bending a little so he could bring his face level with your own, noses so close to brushing together. His gaze was liquid gold, buried treasure under sand, full of promise.

“Cause if you did, just say it. Say you want me,” Steve let out a huff of breath, as if even saying the words out loud affected him more than they should, like he wasn’t supposed to admit to it. “And I’m yours.”

His admission hit you in the chest like a good old fashion sucker punch, flooding you with heat and something else you didn’t quite understand yet. You weren’t sure what he meant, not fully, but with the way your best friend was looking at you, you didn’t think this was the time for a talk about labels and what ifs.

You thought about the girl, the one with the pink lips and permed hair, perky and pretty and all over Steve. You thought about the way it made your chest hurt, like it cracked you down the middle and made your heart ache. You wondered if you could make it feel better, if you could fix it.

You didn’t answer, not really, not properly. You just used what was left of your liquid courage to push yourself up onto your toes, hand still curled into the neck of Steve’s shirt as you pulled him to you.

You kissed him with more authority than you thought you owned, more than you should’ve considering your lack of experience with boys but the answering moan from Steve filled you with confidence, lips moving over his, chasing the taste of red vines and cheap beer.

And as his hand pushed at the material of your shirt, tucking it up and out of his way so his palm could slide against your bare waist, you wondered how any decision that felt so good could possibly be bad.

The push and pull of it made your body fizz, a buzz in your chest that felt better than any high and a sigh escaped you, soft and a little desperate. You felt the boy's thumb at the corner of your mouth again, bossy as it tugged on your bottom lip, asking you to open.

Honestly, it was everything you expected from him. .

Hands rough, touch soft, lips impatient and greedy, like you were the last spoonful of ice cream. He chased your kiss, groaning when you parted your lips for him, pushing up and into him a little more. You took what he gave you, handed it right back, hot and heavy. Despite this being your first kiss with Steve, you were used to this dynamic, his touch, the way you felt safe beside him. Your heart still hammered, but there was a comfort in the rhythmic beat of it, your own personal soundtrack to the way he kissed the breath from you.

You weren’t sure who moved first, you just know it was a little clumsy, bodies swaying, legs tangled, dancing across the tiles and lit by low lamps and the moon. Steve was still bending down for you, lips still joined, hands roaming but he gave up when you both bumped into a bar stool, the harsh squeak the only other sound next to your harsh pants.

He gathered you to him then, closer than before, hands around your waist so he could pull you up against him, walking you backwards on the tips of your toes as you leant into him, arms looped around his neck.

You made a stop against the doorframe, your back against it as he crowded you, kiss deepening and hands getting bolder. Steve snuck the flat of his palm higher up your shirt, warm and smooth along the side of your ribs until his fingers grazed at the band of your bra, lace under his touch.

He groaned when you gasped, lips stuttering over yours as he pulled away just enough to mumble against your mouth, “god, you make the prettiest sounds.”

And then you were tumbling through the hallway again, tripping over the shoes you had both abandoned and Steve paused at the stairs before deciding the climb to his bedroom didn’t allow him to keep kissing you and fuck, well, that just wouldn’t do.

So you both headed for the lounge, a room that was showcased by a large archway, and it held a huge fireplace and squishy sofas, everything surrounded by marble and wood panelling. You had never been in that room, had only ever seen it used at Christmas time, but when Steve led you to the forest green sofa, you happily let him pull you down onto it, and suddenly it was your favourite place in the whole damn house.

“Steve,” you whispered his name into the kiss, voice husky and you felt the boy shift underneath you at the sound. “Fuck, please I-”

“Tell me,” his voice was throaty, like sex and excitement, and he pulled you further into his lap, legs splayed on either of his and his chest heaved at the sight of your dress pushed up your thighs. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you it sweetheart, I swear.”

His words were too much for you and you moaned, noses bumping as you surged back into him, a little messy, the kiss hot and deep. Your hands found his hair, fingers scraping into it from the nape of his neck and you gripped the ends, tugging a little.

The response you got was overwhelming, a roll of his hips under yours, the thud of his head as it fell back and hit the wall behind him. The dirty groan that broke your kiss, chest vibrating beneath you. You pulled back, staring, lips parted. His eyes were wild as he gazed up at you from under thick lashes, jaw slack and lips rosy from your lip balm.

His hands had found your hips, dipping into the curve there before running over your thighs, toying with the hem of your pretty, green dress.

“Did you like that?” You whispered and you wished you could say you were teasing, taunting him but god, you were so genuine, so in awe of having that sort of effect on the boy.

Steve nodded, swallowing hard and he sucked in a breath, eyes still dark on you.

“Do it again.“

You shivered but ran your hands deeper into his hair, pulling a little more than you did before and you were rewarded with another low groan, the sweetest sound falling from his lips.

You couldn’t help the way your hips rocked, forehead touching Steve’s, barely kissing but lips brushing over his and you were both losing it a little, panting hot air into each other’s mouths.

He whispered your name and you swore you’d never heard it sound so good. Steve made it sound like sin.

“Please babe, shit, what do you want, huh?” His mouth was back on yours, kisses longer, more drawn out the messier they got, as if he couldn’t bear not to taste you. “Tell me what you want.”

You knew he’d do anything for you, give you anything what you wanted, what you asked for. Steve Harrington had spent a decade proving that he would, from late night car rides, your favourite cherry slurpees and walks home from dates that never worked out. If he told you he wanted to give you the world, you would’ve believed him. If you asked him to stop, mid kiss, dress messy and rucked up your thighs, he would.

But he didn’t expect you to say what you did. A request that left him breathless, his jeans tighter than he thought possible, mouth dry.

“I wanna touch you,” you told him, voice quiet and shy ‘cause there was a flush of warmth there, embarrassment lingering where excitement should’ve been.

“Holy shit,” his reply was a rush of breath, a strangled moan and he looked up at you as if you’d answered all his prayers, like you were a dream come true.

“You do?” Steve asked. You nodded and his hands tightened their grasp on your thighs. “Oh fuck.”

You leaned in sweet, kisses turning a little shy and you pressed them to his lips, the corners of his mouth, his jaw, until you reached his ear. You paused, worrying your lip between your teeth before you gathered the courage to speak. “I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, voice small and you were already mentally scolding yourself because you were hardly a blushing virgin and of course you knew what to do. Logistically, anyway.

Steve pulled back to look at you, brow furrowed in confusion - because hell, he knew enough about your sexual exploits, whispered between groans and laughter over the counter of Family Video, his and Robin’s eyes equally wide. He just didn’t happen to know how much of a failure they truly were, and at the sight of you worrying your lip, he shifted his expression to neutral.

He cleared his throat and the awkwardness that had settled between you, one hand running soothing up and down your leg as the other one tapped at your chin, silently asking you to look at him. You did, gazes meeting but you couldn’t help but twist your lips, wondering if you could take back the words, if you could distract him with a kiss instead.

“What d’you mean?” the boy asked, and his voice was soft and genuine, his eyes searching.

You shrugged, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt, twisting the material in your hands so you didn’t feel so still, so open and watched as he kept his gaze on you.

“I dunno,” you mumbled, confidence slipping. You flicked your eyes to his, not at all shocked to see him still watching you. You swallowed, urged on by the hand that was running circles over the top of your knee. “Most guys I’ve hooked up with only really wanna get to the main event, y’know? They’ve never really had much patience for anything else.”

You said it matter of factly, hands soothing over the creases you’d made in Steve’s top, wondering if you had managed to completely kill the mood. Your lips were already missing his, your hands aching to wander, to pull off his shirt and map out every mole and freckle you knew he had.

“So yeah,” you said with a little finality, wondering if you’d already had your last kiss with your best friend, “I don't know what to do, not really.”

There was a beat of silence and it was filled with the crackle of a promise, the warmth of something undiscovered and exciting. Steve was still looking at you but there was a lift to his brows and he smiled, shoulders shrugging as if what he was about to say was the most casual thing in the world.

“I could teach you.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fluff #stranger things #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine

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writeandsurvive · 3 months

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Author's note: this is not proofread, there are probably typos. I hope my teasing didn't get you disappointed with the finale result! Tbh, I didn't know where I was going at first, but once I was in, I just kept adding. Maybe I'll write a little sequel to it, idk. Let me know what you think ❤️

Warnings: hospital, gun shot wound, surgery, complicated family, breakup, cold!Alden, evil!Vivian, secrets and reveals (I don't mean to make Alden's parents as bad people, just very concerned parents who can not not get involved in his life?)

Words count: 5.6k

@novamariestark @mandy426 @sarakafarrah

Never too late ~ Alden Parker

Alden felt stupid. He knew it was a trap but he still went in, head first. And now, he was in a hospital bed, waking up for surgery, his arm strapped and completely useless. He felt groggy and nauseous. He opened his eyes just slightly, seeing two people in the room. He recognized his father's white hair, as it almost blinded him. And a few feet to the left, he thought he saw you. But before he could tell himself it was the anesthesia and drugs that made him hallucinate, he fell back to sleep.

"He fell back asleep, it'll take hours before he actually wakes up. Are you sure you want to stay here, sir?" You asked Roman.

"I'd prefer to talk to him before going home and sleeping."

Not that you wanted to kick Alden's father out of the room, after all he was more legitimate to be here than you were, but it made you pretty uncomfortable. Roman Parker never liked you, or at least, he never accepted you as his son's girlfriend. Clearly, he wanted his son to get back with his ex wife, and no matter who Alden was dating, he wasn't going to accept her. So, he never gave you a chance to win him over, to show him how much you loved his son and how serious the relationship was. Unfortunately, the ending and the breakup was probably the proof he needed that he was right and you were fairly sure that he told Alden 'I told you so'. You doubted Roman knew the entire truth.

You never imagined you'd find yourself in this situation, back by his side, worrying about him, caring and feeling all those things you thought were gone. But when the hospital called to inform you about Alden being rushed into surgery, you didn't think twice before getting on the road. It was a good thing Philadelphia is only three hours away from DC.

And there you were, sitting by the bed, checking up on him just to make sure he was breathing. Roman didn't have much to say and neither did you so the room was silent except for the machines attached to Alden. His team - whom you had never met - stopped by several times, one of them gave you his number so you could call when Alden was awake. Their case wasn't over just yet, so they still had a lot to do. But you could tell they really care about him, and you were happy he had some nice people around.

His eyes finally opened again. He was grumbling, and whining, and it took several attempts for him to focus on where he was. He saw his dad again, asleep in a chair across the room. "Dad," he called out with a raspy voice but Roman didn't move.

"He fell asleep not long ago," you said, getting closer to the bed and putting your hand on Alden's. He turned his face to look at you, confusion written all over it. "Hey, are you feeling?" You asked softly.

He blinked a few times, looked around, to his dad, the machines, and back to you. "I'm dreaming," he whispered. "Dad!"

"You're very much awake, Den." You pushed some hair off his face. "I'm here."

"You left." He said. You tried to figure out the emotions in his voice, but it was like there was none. It was just a plain statement, and unfortunately, it was true.

"Let's not do this now, okay? Do you need anything? Water?"

He shook his head no, and tried to move but he instantly growled in pain. "Stop touching me." He told you and you pulled your hands away.

"Want me to go get a nurse?"

"If you're insisting on doing something for me, wake up my dad and drive him home." His tone was cold, but could you blame him?

"I offered him a ride several times, he didn't want--"

"Wake him up."

You moved to Roman to wake him up. After the Parker men talked for a moment, his father finally agreed to be driven home by you. The entire ride was silent, except for his directions to the new retirement home. You didn't try to make conversation, the old man was clearly exhausted from spending very long hours in the hospital, worrying about his son's life. Before he left the car, you gave him your number and told him he could call the next day if he needed a ride. You were relieved that he took it without any hesitation.

You drove back to the hospital, but stopped to get some comfort food for Alden. He'd probably not want it, or at least not yet, but you wanted to do this for him. When you got into his room, he was drinking some water and the TV was on. He looked at you like he was seeing a ghost. "Hey," you softly said, putting the food down, "I got you some of your fav snacks."

He looked at the bag and then back to you. "Why are you here?"

"Where else would I be?" You answered, getting closer to his bed.

"Literally anywhere else but here." He paused, taking a deep breath. "How did you even know? I highly doubt my dad called you."

"I'm still your emergency contact."

"Thanks for the heads up, I'll change that in the morning. Look, I'm alive okay? In a few weeks, my arm will be like new. So, you can leave now."

"Alden--" you tentatively tried to grab his free hand but stopped yourself when you heard him say, "No! You don't get to show up like this, after all this time, just because I got shot. You don't get to be nice to me, and try to take care of me. I'm a big boy. So you can do what you do, and leave. No need for a stupid note this time."

You stared at him for a short moment, tears threatening to fall. He was clearly avoiding your eyes, just looking at the ceiling. So, you simply grabbed your purse and started to walk towards the door. As your hand reached for the handle, you took a deep breath and turned around. "Believe it or not, but leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I didn't do it because I wanted to but because we were making each other miserable. All we did was fight, we couldn't agree on a single damn thing. Your parents--"

"Don't talk about my parents." He warned you.

"I'm sure they are nice people but they were mean to me, Alden. As much as you could argue with your father, you never had my back when it came to your mother."

"I said, don't." You saw the tears in his eyes at this moment.

"I'm sorry for your loss." You whispered softly, feeling for him and knowing just how much he loved his mother.

"Are you?" He finally snapped and looked directly at you. "Where the hell were you when she passed? Huh? You didn't call, you didn't send a single fucking text!"

"That's not true!" You defended yourself. "I sent you a care package and a long letter!"

"Oh, did you now? Must have gotten lost in the mail." He said, ironically. Clearly, he wasn't believing you. So you gently grabbed his chin and forced him to lock eyes with you again.

"I did." You assured him, knowing it was the damn truth. "I put some snacks in it, your fav bottle of wine, some flowers for your mom and a plant for you. I even put my Metallica hoodie that you always wanted to steal. Did you not get it?" It took him a moment to process before shaking his head no. "Well, have you moved since we--? Cause I sent it to the apartment on--"

"I didn't move."

"Then, I don't understand. I was informed it got delivered."

He stayed silent once more, and you knew he was trying to figure out what happened to that package. "There was no way I would learn about your mom and not do something, Alden. No matter how me and her didn't get along, I know she was the person you loved the most and I can't imagine how hard it must have been for you. I'm sorry you thought I didn't care or--"

"Not your fault for this one, I guess." He sighed. You noticed the tear that was rolling down his cheek and you couldn't help but to dry it with your thumb. Alden closed his eyes at the gesture, and you let your hand rest on his cheek for a moment. You leaned over and kissed his temple softly. "I never stopped caring," you whispered. "Your dad has my number if you want to reach out, otherwise I'll go back to Philly tomorrow night. Take care of yourself and please be careful next time."

You were hoping he would say something but he didn't. So you just left.

As you drove back to the motel, you wondered if you should've told him about everything that was in that care package and in your letter. You remembered every word that you wrote, how you explained why you didn't tell him about the pregnancy - cause he didn't want kids at his age and with his work, and that he was convinced you were having an affair, you were scared he'd think the baby wasn't his - but regretted it every day. Little Noah was still a tiny baby when you sent the package and the pictures, so told Alden he wouldn't remember not having his daddy the first three months of his life. Everything could be set on the right track. You'd come back to DC, do the co-parenting, or whatever. You poured your heart out in this letter, offered countless apologies, and solutions. Since you never got an answer, you figured Alden didn't want to know his son.

In the room, you found your two years old son sleeping on the big bed like a starfish, and your sister by his side, scrolling through her phone. When she saw you, she immediately got up and hugged you. "It didn't go well, did it?"

You told her everything since the last updates you gave her as she made some tea. Noah was deeply asleep, as you softly stroked his hair. "So, he still doesn't know about the little guy?"

You shook your head no, whipping your tears away. "All this time I thought he just didn't care."

"That's crazy. But what the fuck happened to the package?"

You shrugged. "Beats me." Noah moved in his sleep to get closer to you. "I guess I have to tell him again, now."

"Yeah. Face to face this time."

In the morning, Noah woke you up a little before 6am, which meant that you had barely slept for two hours. "It's too early baby, let's sleep a little more okay?"

"'Kay" he answered, but all he did was laying next to you, looking at you like you're the most wonderful thing in the world, and played with your face and hair. But eventually he asked for some milk, and neither of you went back to sleep. Around 9, you went to get breakfast to the diner with Noah and your sister. Your son was very curious about this new place, until he had some pancakes in front of him. Breakfast was going fine, until two people approached your table.

"Agent McGee, Agent Torres, hi!" You greeted them.

"Good morning, you can call us Tim and Nick."

"Alright, um this is my sister Jane, and um my--"

"Mommy! More syrup please?"

You couldn't lie, could you?

"My son, Noah." He barely said hi even after you asked him to, too focus on his food.

Tim started to tell you that they had just visited Alden and he was physically okay, while Nick added that for someone who can never shut up, he was extremely silent that morning. They also said that Jimmy Palmer went to pick up Alden's father to bring him to the hospital. You did your best to remain neutral to that information until they left with their order.

"What do you know about Nick?" Jane asked as soon as you sat back down. You laughed despite yourself, knowing that Nick Torres was exactly your sister's type.

You spent the morning walking around DC, or more specifically around the hospital where Alden was. You answered a phone call from your parents, let them talk with Noah for a bit, who was very happy about being with his mommy and his auntie and not at daycare. As you found a park for Noah to play, you and Jane sat on a bench. "They probably figured it out, you know." Jane said. "I mean, Noah is like Alden's clone. And what's the deal with the Parkers' hair anyways?"

You giggled softly, looking at your son from afar and yes, his head full of hair was all you could see.

"He's almost 3, J. They lost three damn years. Do you think Alden will forgive me? And--"

"Girl, that's not your fault that package didn't reach him! I bet some evil hands got on it!"

"What? Who? Who would do that?"

"His dad was pretty harsh with you--"

"No! I really don't think Roman would do something like this. The only way to know it was from me, was to read my letter. Roman wouldn't have opened the box in the first place."

"Fair enough. Then, was he dating someone back then?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

You looked at each other. You had to visit Alden again.

Your anxiety was so high as you reached for his room, you thought you may faint. Your heart was pounding so hard and fast, but there was no turning back now. You had to tell him, cause he never knew.

You walked into the room after Alden said to come in, breathing heavily. Alden had his bed on a sitting position, and he seemed more alert than the day before. Roman was in the chair next to the bed, and he did give you a slight nod, which you returned. You asked Alden how he was doing and he just mumbled that he was fine. You noticed some of the snacks you brought had been opened and it warmed your heart just a little.

"Why are you here again?" He asked.

You opened your mouth to answer but the door swung open - without a knock first - and the person you really didn't want to see was right there.

"Wow, I thought I was never going to make it!"

Completely ignoring you, Vivian circled the bed to give Roman a hug, before focusing on Alden. She leaned over to kiss his cheek, not earning any kind of reaction from him. You just stood there, staring until she finally looked up to you, “Oh, you.” she said. “What are you doing here?”

You tried to shut all of your thoughts and questions going through your mind and looked at Alden, “I need to talk to you,” you told him.

Before he could answer, Vivian spoke up, “Yeah well, it’s gonna have to wait. In case you didn’t notice, he got shot and–”

“Viv,” he exclaimed.

“What? She doesn’t have anything to do here, does she?”

You heard your name from Roman and looked at him, “I think you should leave.”

You looked at Alden again, hoping he’d say something, that he understood that you really needed to talk to him privately, but he just stayed silent. “Nothing changed.” you whispered before leaving.

You found the first restroom on your way and locked yourself in there to cry. Things were still as they were, he wouldn’t open his mouth to defend you, or at least ask his father to stand down and not get involved. And what the hell was Vivian doing there? Were they back together, or on their way to? You figured he’d eventually find someone, but if that someone was Vivian, that felt like a huge betrayal, as she was one of the reasons things didn’t work out between you and Alden. She was always there, his family never accepted the divorce and it always felt like she needed to have a hold on him. You remember one day when she cornered you and basically said the only reason Alden was dating you was because she let it happen, “If I ask him to get back together, trust me, he’ll leave on the spot.”

Once you had a hold on your emotions, you texted Jane to let her know you were on your way to them. Noah immediately rushed into your arms, asking if you could get some cupcakes, like his auntie promised.

“You have a serious problem with sugar, my love.”

“I love sugar!”

“Yeah, I got that.” you giggled.

It was late in the afternoon when you got a text from an unknown number. ‘You can come. -A’

You told Noah that you needed to visit your friend again, but this time, he was not having it. “Wanna come!” he kept saying, holding onto your neck with his tiny arms.

“You can’t, baby. But I won’t be long, okay?” he shook his head no in your neck. You still started to walk towards the hospital, trying to negotiate with your son.

“I got an idea,” Jane said, “What if you and I go to the shop and find a gift for mommy’s friend? And maybe you’ll find something for you too?”

Noah looked at his aunt and then you. He wasn’t very convinced about it but with one little push, he did agree to let go of you.

You were relieved to see Alden’s room empty except for him. He was standing with some casual clothes on him, a bag was at the end of the bed. “You’re being discharged already?”

“Yeah, I’ll not spend another night here.”

“Alden, are you sure it’s the right thing to do? What did your doctor say?”

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

You sighed and sat next to him.

“That package I sent you when your mom passed– there was a long letter with it.”

“Longer than your note?”

“Alden, please.” you looked up to him, with tears in your eyes.

“Sorry, but that–really hurt me. More than you know.”

“I can imagine,” you took a deep breath, “And I’m willing to hear all about it, even if you want to get angry at me and insult me, but right now, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“About that letter?”

“I told you a lot of things in this letter, including one very important thing.” You took your phone out of your pocket, unlocked it and went to the gallery. The last picture was one of Noah that you took a few hours early at the park. Eventually, you showed him the phone. He grabbed it with his free hand and stared at the picture of a moment. “Wh–who is that?”

“His name is Noah.” tears fell down your cheeks but you didn’t care. “He’s my son. And your son.” you said right above a whisper.

Alden’s head started to move left to right, tears were forming in his eyes but he didn’t take his eyes off the picture. He couldn’t believe it and you didn’t blame him. “Alden, I’m sorry.” you kissed his injured shoulder without thinking. “I was telling you in that letter about him, there was pictures too, and since I never heard from you, I thought you didn’t–”

“That I didn’t want to know my own child?” you could hear the hurt in his voice. “Did you seriously think that about me?”

“What else was I supposed to think?”

“My mom passed away a year after you left. Why wait that long? He was already born!”

“I know, I– I explained everything in the letter and–”

“Yeah well, I didn’t get that damn letter, okay? So why didn’t you tell me when you found out?” he stood up from the bed, and whined a bit as he uncontrollably tried to move his arm.

“You were so clear about not wanting kids and why, we couldn’t be around each other without fighting and I– I thought you were back with Vivian. Look, I made this decision out of heartbreak and I regretted it, okay? Which was why I reached out when your mom passed. I realized that anything could happen to you or to me, and Noah needed both his parents–”

Your phone, which was still in Alden’s hand, started to buzz. “Your sister,” he said, handing you the phone. As soon as you picked up, you could hear Noah crying, “SOS!” Jane said.

Alden was staring at you, and you knew he was able to hear. “I’m on my way, sis.” you hung up.

“They, um, they are down at the gift shop.”

“Your sister and–Noah?”

You nodded, standing up next to him. “Look, there’s no rush, we can–”

“Does he know? Who I am?”

You put your hand over his, the one stuck against his chest.

“He’s not asking deep questions yet, but he did ask about his daddy a few times and I couldn’t lie to him. He’s seen pictures of you, so he may recognize you.”

Alden took a few deep breaths, taking to stop himself from crying. “What did you say about me not–being there?”

“Daddy leaves away from us and can’t visit for now.”

“Better than ‘daddy doesn’t know you exist’.” he said, coldly.

“Alden,” you whispered.

“We have a lot to talk about, but– our son is crying.”

You couldn’t believe that you were on your way to your son with his father by your side. Noah was going to meet his daddy. Alden was going to meet his son. You didn’t think it would go this fast, even though you figured Alden would want to waste any more time. As you approached the gift shop, you uncontrollably grabbed his arm. “You should’ve let me hold your bag.” you said.

“My right arm is fine. Is that him?” You listened and heard little whimpers and a little kid’s voice.

“Yeah.” you breathed out.

As soon as Noah saw you, he ran. You picked him up, holding him tight in your arms. “What’s wrong, baby? What did auntie J do this time?”

“Hey, I didn’t do anything!” your sister interjected. “Alden,” she greeted the man who was staying a couple of feet away. He briefly looked at her but immediately got his eyes focused on his son again. His eyes were full of tears, threatening to fall again.

“She said I could take just one teddy for your friend.”

“I said he didn’t need two of them. One was enough, wasn’t it, Alden?”

It was only then that Noah looked at his father. He stayed silent, just staring at him before looking at you and back at him. Then he approached his mouth to your ear, “He like daddy.”

“Cause it’s him, baby.”

Noah looked at Alden again. “You hurt, daddy?” he answered softly, like it was the most normal thing. Like it wasn’t the first time they were meeting each other.

It took a moment for Alden to answer. “I am, but it’ll be okay. Soon it’ll be like nothing happened.”

“What happen?”

“Huh, I fell and hurt my shoulder.”

“Need a hug?” He offered, since you strongly believed that hugs can solve a lot of things and it was something you were transferring to your son without doing it on purpose.

“I’d love a hug.”

Noah extended his arms, so you moved closer to Alden. “Careful with his shoulder, okay?” you warned him, but he was very thoughtful, only holding on his father’s neck. Then he kissed his cheek and rested his head on the right shoulder. You could see that Alden was fighting the urge to cry, just as you were. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there before, buddy. I’ll never leave you from now on.”

It was nearly impossible to take Noah off his dad after the initial meeting. Even in the car, he wanted to sit on his lap and only agreed to let go as long as daddy sat next to him. Your sister drove to your former apartment, but she needed to get back to Philly and work the following day. “Don’t worry, she’ll take my car if needed.” Alden told her when Jane asked how you’d get back home. You grabbed yours, Noah’s and Alden’s bags from the trunk before your sister said goodbye to the three of you before driving off.

Inside the apartment, Noah wanted to see every room. He asked a million questions to Alden about everything and nothing, and you had to translate a few times as daddy wasn’t familiar with Noah’s own language. His phone rang a few times but he completely ignored it, only focusing on his son and telling him everything he wanted to know. What you were feeling was indescribable.

When you told Noah that his dad needed to rest, he agreed to settle on the couch with him. “Is it okay if I make dinner now?” You asked Alden, “This little guy woke up at 6, and didn’t nap. Won’t take long until he gets grumpy.”

“Go ahead but I’m not sure my fridge has what you need. I can go get something?”

You looked inside the fridge as you heard your son asking his dad if they could watch Paw Patrol. You heard Alden’s confusion when he said sure, and giggled. “Where Netflix?”

“Oh, here.”

“Well, your fridge is indeed very sad. What do you want to eat, Nono?”

“Nuggies!”

“Why do I even ask?”

You grabbed your phone and settled next to Alden, placing the order while Noah explained Paw Patrol to his father.

A couple of hours later, both Noah and Alden were asleep on the couch. You obviously had to snap a few pictures, before picking up your son and bringing him to the bed in the guest room. “Put him on my bed, it’s comfier.” Alden said, half sleep.

“Okay, but I have to stay next to him, he could roll over.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

You placed Noah in the middle of the big bed, got rid of your jeans, socks and bra. Alden got in before you could get under the sheets, and clearly checked out your legs. “Could you be more subtle?”

“I know and remember your body like it was yesterday.”

You chose not to answer, “Do you need to keep the sling?”

“Yeah, for at least a week.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I took the entire week off work.”

“Doesn’t matter, since you’re gonna quit anyway. You’re not going back to Philadelphia.”

As Noah slept between the two of you, Alden asked many questions about your son; his birthday, favorite food, what he likes to do, if he has allergies or health issues, etc. You answered everything, gave him as much info as possible. “And um, does he have a father figure in his life?”

“Is this your way to ask me if I'm dating someone?”

“Maybe. Are you?”

“No. His only father figures are my dad and my uncle. Are you dating Vivian?”

Alden chuckled. “Are we doing this again?”

“Considering what I saw earlier–”

“I'm not dating her or anyone else. I'll admit I hooked up with her a few times over the last few years, but–”

“Great!” You sighed.

“You're gonna tell me that you haven't been with anyone since–?”

“The last time I had sex was probably the night we conceived this tiny human.” You looked down at Noah and played with his hair.

“Oh,”

It was silent for a moment. Alden wanted to get on his side, play with Noah's hair too, reach out for you, but with his arm, he could only lay down on his back and that frustrated him. “What was your breaking point?” He asked, eventually. “Why did you leave that day? And not talk to me?”

“I knew if I talked to you, I wouldn't go through with it. And it was something in particular that made me leave, I was–exhausted. Of the fights, the arguments, the jealousy, and suspicion. It was like we didn't trust each other anymore, for anything. And–” your voice broke. “Maybe it's stupid, but you didn't want to marry me, you didn't want to have kids with me so I just thought – I was temporary.”

“We lived together. That was a huge commitment for me.”

“Exactly. It was huge for you, while it was just natural for me.”

“Okay, I get that. And I'm sorry I made you feel this way.” He turned his face to look at you. He could only make out some of your features. “I was truly and madly in love with you. But I guess I only realized it once you were gone. And then I was so mad at you for leaving.” It was his voice that broke.

“I can't blame you for that part.” You cried. “Do you think it's too late?”

“Too late for what?”

“...Us?”

“It's never too late.”

Eventually you both fell asleep, exhausted physically and mentally.

Of course, you were both awakened by Noah. First, he cuddled and called out for you. “Hey, baby, good morning!” You said, eyes still closed, holding him against you.

“Daddy's snoring.” You listened closely and indeed Alden was snoring. Crazy as it was, you missed that sound very much. “Like pop.”

You giggled, “Not as loud as pop, though!”

“No! Wake him?”

“Hold on,” you grabbed your phone to check what time it was, 7:30am. Alden probably needed more sleep, so you convinced Noah to help you prepare breakfast for daddy and wake him up after. Luckily, there was some eggs and bacon, and pancake batter in the kitchen and in the end, you prepared breakfast while Noah logged on Netflix by himself. It was almost ready when there were some knocks at the door. You opened to find Roman and Vivian, holding what seemed to be breakfast.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, shocked.

“Making breakfast,” you gave her your best fake smile. “Good morning, Roman.”

“Is my son awake?”

“Not yet, I thought he needed–”

Vivian practically pushed you out of her way to get in. You obviously let Roman get inside too. “What is that?” She said, pointing at Noah.

“My son.” You all heard. Alden barely walked into the living area that Noah was running into his arms.

“Morning, daddy!”

“Good morning, buddy.”

“You snore!”

“I do not!” Alden laughed.

The boys didn't have more time as Vivian raised her voice, asking what was going on. You noticed Roman sitting at the kitchen counter, staring at your son, his grandson. “Go watch your show, baby, and we'll have breakfast, okay?”

Then he told everyone to follow him inside the greenhouse. “Don't act so shocked, Vivian.” Was the first thing Alden said. “You knew about Noah.”

“What? You're crazy, how would I–?”

“I remembered a few days after mom passed, you bringing me my favorite snacks, wine, a plant, and flowers.” The exact content of your package. “What did you do with the hoodie and the letter?”

“I don't– I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“The only reason I'm staying calm right now is because my son is in the next room, but look at me and listen to me. I never want to see you again, so you're gonna disappear from my life and my father's. Meaning that from the moment you walk out that door, you will not text or call him, or any other members of my family. And if I learn that you didn't respect that, I'll be far less gentle. Am I clear?”

“Alden, listen–”

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

She was crying and trying to get Alden to listen to her, but he only grabbed your waist and held you close to him. When she turned to Roman, hoping he'd listen and defend her, the older man simply told her to leave. Eventually, she did, using the greenhouse's door.

Alden held you tighter, kissing your temple softly. “Dad,”

“Can I meet him? What's his name?”

Noah was very happy to have another grandpa. And it was amazing to see how Roman was doing his best to give him a very good first impression. You all had breakfast together, and you mostly stayed silent, just being overwhelmed about the Parkers boys getting to know one another. After eating, Noah wanted to show Paw Patrol to his grandfather, and Alden took this opportunity to take you to the bedroom. He didn't waste any second before kissing you deeply and intensely. You returned it immediately, holding onto his hair. Feeling like you were breathing again, you only stopped kissing when you heard him making a sound of pain. “My shoulder,” he said.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry baby. I didn't–”

“It's okay,” he smiled. “It's worth it.”

He kissed you again, trapping you between the door and his body. “Fuck, I missed you.” He growled.

“Missed you more.”

“We can't do this right now, can we?” He chuckled, out of breath.

“Oh baby, it's gonna be tricky for us to have some privacy now.”

“It's fine. I'm taking all the pros and cons.” He kissed your forehead, “I'm taking you and our little boy. I'm taking it all.”

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