#I mean maybe it's a shitty movie and I would be better off not seeing it but IT'S ABSURD THAT I CAN *KNOW* ABOUT IT BUT BE UNABLE TO GET IT

[midnightloversmusic]

I would absolutely love some hurt/comfort with poly!marauders. I struggle a lot with anxiety and shit, so if possible, maybe something to do with that? Thanks :)

Hiii i’m sorry this took so long for some reason every time I went to write this i’d blank but I finally got it finished and I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

—

Your Job made you want to throw up. Even now sitting in your car about to leave, just the thought of it was enough to get your heart racing and your mind whirling. You have wanted this job since you were a kid. Back then it all seemed mystical. A place that would be filled with unicorns and rainbows. Then you got to high-school and suddenly everyone was telling you wherever you work there would be an asshole boss and mean colleagues. Even when this was being hammered into your head, you held out hope. All the way through college you grasped onto that hope with unrelenting force.

Then you graduated and worked your way up to your dream job. You had worked your ass off in other words. Even with the jobs you had along the way, of course they were shitty, but you held out hope for once in your life and believed that this job would be better. It would be perfect.

God were you wrong.

Now when you come home from work you’re absolutely exhausted. Your new boss has worn you down by overworking you. But you’re new and still believe you have to prove yourself so you do it all with no complaint. Not to mention your colleagues, who seem to see you as a tool to do all of the work they don’t want to do. But in order to become friendly with them, you try to hand out as many favors as you can, while being swamped with work of your own. You are stressed thinking about the next day of work almost immediately as you set foot inside your house.

Your sweet, loving, caring boyfriends have noticed a change in your demeanor. Your shoulders are tighter, posture stiff, movements languid because your body is so exhausted. After work one day James came behind you as you were cooking and wrapped his arms around your torso. He had whispered softly in your ear asking if you were alright and if there was anything he can do. You brushed him off and said you were just tired and he doesn’t need to worry. He’s been sending you worried glances ever since. Sirius had been silently studying you. He knows body language more fluently than any form of speaking because of the environment he grew up in. He could see it in your stance, something was wrong. He didn’t want to beat around the bush so he just asked you what was bothering you. Over and over and over again. Each time you’d respond with an over exaggerated sigh, saying

“I’m just tired Siri. There is nothing to worry about.”

or you’d let out a stiff laugh and quip

“Is there something wrong with you you’re not saying? Why are you always so insistent on talking about me?”

You know it’s a low blow and he was only trying to help but you’re already on edge and you don’t want your boyfriends to know what’s going on because if they know you are sure to have a breakdown, and you do not have time for a breakdown right now.

Remus hasn’t said anything to you yet, but his actions definitely express worry. When you come home from work as soon as you have set your stuff down Remus is up making you a cup of tea. Or he’s sitting on the couch patting the seat next to him asking you if you’d like him to read to you, or watch your favorite movie, or binge the new season of your favorite TV show. Sometimes he’ll just come beside you a massage your shoulder and let out a disapproving hum at the tightness. Hell mummer under his breath as if he was talking to himself,

“Working my girl too hard”

So that’s why sitting in your car about to leave for work, your stomach is turning. The stress of impressing your boss, pleasing your fellow employees, and keeping your stress from the boys has become to much. There’s nothing you can do as you pull out of the driveway and repeat the mantra in your head saying don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

Later that day when you are pulling back into the driveway somehow your day has gotten worse. You had to pull over on the side of the road and flash your hazards because your eyes got too cloudy from the constant fall of tears streaming down your face. Everything was just too much. And the thing is you are a hard worker. You fought tooth and nail for this job. You want this job. You were supposed to love this job. Instead your overcome with waves of panic every-time you think about going into work. Every-time a colleague texts you and you hear the unmistakable ping you flinch. It’s been consuming your mind fully since the day you started and you broke down.

You don’t care about hiding it from the boys anymore. You just need a hug. You blindly reach for your car door, making note that James isn’t home yet, and all but fling yourself inside the house. You’re letting out gut wrenching sobs and you feel like you can’t breathe. You’re practically suffocating in your jacket and you need it off. Off off off off off. You repeat over and over in your mind, or maybe out loud you’re really not sure anymore, as your shaky hands fail again and again to reach your zipper. Sirius is the first to get to you. His heart practically stops at the sight.

“Love, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

He scans over your body. Checking if he can see any physical damage. When he decides there is no life-threatening wounds, at least that he can see, he jumps into action.

“Hey, hey, hey” he says,

The last ‘hey’ coming out more sternly than the others. You look up at him and your heart somehow shatters more. His face looks so caring and scared. You sob harder at the sight and continue to pull at the neck of your jacket.

“it’s okay, I got it. C’mon let’s walk over to the couch okay? Sh it’s okay, you’re okay”

As Sirius takes your zipper into his hands and urgently, but less harshly, zips it down he slowly pulls you to the couch. Remus emerges from the hallway and immediately goes still at the sight. He rushed to the kitchen to get a glass of water and comes back to help Siri pick up your broken pieces.

When you finally catch enough breath to sob out

“I just don’t know how i’m going to do it anymore!”

“Do what m’love?” Remus quietly questioned while stroking your hair,

“My job!” you practically shouted into Siri’s chest. “My boss is throwing me on every project and he knows it’s too much! He wants me to fail and I don’t want him to win so i’ve been doing it all. But the better I do the more he assigns and I can’t keep up with it anymore”

Both boys comforting you share a worried glanced at each-other. Having a silent conversation with their eyes. Just as Sirius opened his mouth to say something, the unmistakable sound of the door opening and James yelling out,

“The loves of my life, i’m home!”

Really James has immaculate humorous timing. When he realizes no one has answers he scans the room quickly before his eyes catch on you curled up in a ball practically on top of Sirius and Remus kneeling on the ground in front of you.

His face immediately falls.

“Baby, what happened?”

The utter concern in his voice and his caring expression made you let out another sob and re-explain the story and add in a few more details about how your coworkers have been treating you.

Once you’ve spilled your guts the boys concerned faces only worded causing you slight confusion. You just told them what’s wrong, they comforted you, now you should go back to normal.

Remus is the first to speak

“The next time you’re feeling anxious about anything, especially your job, just tell me, Sirius, or James and we can talk about it or try to take your mind off of it. It’s not good to be stressed all the time, especially when you aren’t telling anyone about it. A job should never make you this upset. I know you love it but I think you should have a serious conversation with your boss when your ready.”

Sirius adds in,

“I could help you write up a speech or I could just march right in there with you. But please come and see me when your feeling anxious, or shoot me a text while your at work”

“We love you and we want you to be happy and if this job isn’t making you happy, I say drop it and find one that makes you love it the way we love you.”

James mumbles as he wipes his thumbs under your eyes, taking away your tears.

[zweiginator]

hear me out. you and patrick are best friends, but you both secretly want more. you decide to go out on a date with someone to try to get over him, but it gets the best of patrick and he bribes the dude not to show up or something and confessions and smut ENSUE hehehehe

like he grew up so rich that he’s a little detached from money and wealth and all that.. so when he knows you’re going out with the captain of the stanford lacrosse team (which he thinks is an incredibly stupid sport)—he meets up with the guy. feigns interest in his game and tells him its in his best interest not to show up to the date he has planned with you tonight.

he looks flabbergasted at how much cash patrick hands him. $2k like it’s a twenty dollar bill.

“why should i take this from you?” of course he’s planning to. he honestly just wants to get his dick wet, and $2k is a lot of beer and weed.

“you don’t have to.” patrick gets in his face, close enough to make the boy visibly uncomfortable. patrick is taller than him by a few inches. he grabs his collar. “i’m just saying it’s in your best, interest that’s all.”

he grabs the cash and quickly walks away, muttering about how much of a freak patrick is.

patrick laughs.

you call patrick an hour after the date was supposed to start. you had waited at the sushi restaurant for the full sixty minutes. texted him a couple times. he never responded; in fact he blocked you.

“pat,” you’re sniffling. not because you really like this guy, but because he left you abandoned like a dumb little puppy. played with your time and your feelings.

this is the part patrick feels shitty about.

“what’s wrong hon?”

“he stood me up—i don’t get why this keeps happening. am i that awful to be around? i did my makeup and everything-“

“shh. you’re not awful to be around these guys are fucking pricks. i’ll beat up every last one of them.”

in reality, he had told your past few love interests he would beat them to a pulp if they showed up on the date. confused, they each took their cash and agreed.

but you are obviously really upset by this. maybe one is forgivable, but four is excessive. four had tainted your self-confidence.

patrick comes to your house with flowers.

“you didn’t have to—oh pat.” you sniffle and hug him, standing on your tippy toes. you’re in the prettiest little sundress. god, patrick wouldn’t take any amount of money to leave you behind.

“sit down. i need to confess something to you. don’t be mad please.”

“did you get caught driving high again?”

patrick laughs. “no, no. i’m better than that now. i—how do i say this.”

“you’re making me nervous.” you cut the ends off the flowers, putting them in a vase. you notice it’s a dozen red roses, interesting choice.

“i—i’ve been telling your past few dates to, like, not show up.”

“what the fuck do you mean?” you slam the scissors down. “how?”

“i have been bribing them. and—threatening them. like, an insinuation there is a threat.”

“patrick what the fuck why?”

you’re livid. he had pretended for months to be confused, had come to your house late at night to comfort you—all because of something he orchestrated?

but you see that look he’s giving you. his green eyes huge with worry and sorrow. he rarely has that look.

patrick swallows. “i don’t want you to go on dates with them. i want you to be with someone who really appreciates you.”

“how am i supposed to know if they appreciate me or not when my dates are all fucking sabotaged?”

“well maybe i wanted to come over and comfort you and watch movies and eat ice cream. maybe those have been our dates for the last few months.”

you know patrick is bad at sharing his feelings but jesus christ.

you lift his chin up; his back is against the counter as you stand in front of him.

“maybe.” you whisper, lips close to his. “you can just ask me out in the normal way.”

patrick slips one of your straps down your shoulders, heart beating. he never thought this far ahead. “we’ve been on a few dates already. i feel like it only makes sense that we fuck.”

patrick fucks you against the counter, your legs spread as he stands between them, pushing his cock into your weeping cunt. god, you wish he would’ve just confessed this earlier. he rubs his cock against you and revels in how you moan for him, clenching around nothing. as he pounds into you, his hands roaming up your body to squeeze and play with your tits, he kisses your neck, whispers in your ear.

“doesn’t fucking matter if those guys showed up i would’ve beat their asses—“ he thrusts deeper. “would’ve slashed their fucking tires—“ he pulls out, listens to you whine for him. and then he fucks back into you. “would’ve sabotaged it anyway. paid them each $2k not to fucking touch you. would’ve drained my bank account for this fucking pussy.”

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part V

Thank you as always to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading for me, you're the best bb!! ❤️❤️

Hello everyone!! This chapter is going to be a little more plot/lore heavy. But, we still get some sweet and flirty boys. IV brings Reader dinner and II is becoming more comfortable in his flirting. Thank you so much for reading, if you would like to be added to the tag list let me know!

WARNINGS: None

Part IV - Part VI

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

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Today was one of those times where your store was absolutely slammed. "I'll be right with you Jay, just give me one second." You clap the older man on the shoulder as you round the counter.

"No worries darlin', I got all day." He smiles cheerfully at you." You hurriedly set a fresh batch of coffee to brew, quickly cleaning up the station.

"Next batch will be done in about ten minutes guys." You smile as you pass by a tow of your usuals, a group of old timers that would set up shop at the shelf along one of the windows and spend their day drinking cups of coffee and playing scratch tickets.

"Now Miss (Y/N), don't you go running off, I got a vibe to pick with you young lady." You skidded to a halt, turning in your heels to face the myriad of curious stares.

"You better make this quick Randy, I got a line out the door." You huff with a sarcastic smile.

"I just want to know what you're doing hanging around with those cultists." Your eye involuntarily twitched as he spit out the word. "I'd just hate to see you get mixed up in that crowd."

"They're nice boys Randy." You hurry up to the counter as you continue to call over your shoulder. "It might do you some good to actually get to know them before you try to crucify them over nothing.

"Why don't you try inviting them to the Fall Festival?" Jay asks gently.

"Unfortunately I don't think they'd go. I know it's hard to believe but they're just as nervous about you as you are about them." You explain with a huff.

"I think it's worth a shot at least." He leans in a bit to whisper to you. "Now I can't speak for everyone obviously, but I think if the townsfolk actually got to meet them and see that they're not some big ol' scary monster in the woods… well, they might just come around." He offers his advice with a patient smile. "If you're saying they're a good group of guys I trust your judgment. Your word means a lot more to me than some blood thirsty reporter after a story."

"Thanks Jay, I'll ask them. Who knows, maybe they'll show up." He bids you farewell before leaving you to tend to the rest of your sea of customers. After what felt like an eternity your store was finally empty. You groaned, slumping over the counter. The cool linoleum felt nice against your sticky skin. You jolted up at the sound of the bell ringing above the door, eyes flashing over to reveal II and IV looking at you curiously. "Hey guys." You give them a tired smile.

"Everything alright, love? You look exhausted." II approaches the counter, his eyes full of concern.

"Yeah, just a long day." You explain. You sit down in your chair, resting your elbows on the counter. II copies your motions, his eyes searching yours, his nose just barely out of reach from bumping into you.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" You shake your head in response.

"You boys are already too good to me as it is." You giggle as II playfully rolls his eyes. "I'll be alright, just gotta do some quick cleaning before I go upstairs. Then it's a cup of ramen cause I'm too lazy to cook and shitty movie re-runs until I pass out on my couch."

"A cup of ramen isn't a meal, doll." He tuts.

"I know that, doctor." He chuckles at your sarcastic tone. "I'll be alright, one night without a proper dinner isn't going to kill me."

"I wish we could come help more around here, I hate seeing you so tired." IV chimes in, dropping an armful of snacks on the counter.

"I appreciate all your help, but I promise you, I'll be just fine." You respond with a reassuring smile. Neither of them seemed satisfied with your answer but they could tell you weren't in the mood to argue.

II sighs, "just promise me after you finish up here you'll go get some rest."

"You have my word." You chuckle. The two of them finish their shopping, idly chatting with you as you do some cleaning up. "Goodnight guys, get home safely." You wave as they head out.

"I better not come back here and see you exhausted tomorrow." II warns playfully.

"I'll try my best." He winks at you before pushing out the door. IV wishes you goodnight before joining his companion.

You collapsed on your couch with a groan once you finally made it upstairs. Despite how much you were trying to convince yourself you weren't hungry your growling stomach said otherwise. You lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling, when suddenly the familiar rumble of a pick up truck pulls into the lot. You stood, walking over to the window and pushing the curtain aside. You saw IV fumbling with something in his passenger seat before kicking the door open. You met him at the back door, he froze when he saw you standing at the top of the landing with a smirk spread across your features. "I, uh, I brought some food." He offers bashfully.

"Come on up IV." You chuckle before heading back inside. IV steps into your apartment, eyeing you curiously.

"I'm sorry I showed up without an invitation." He apologizes. You smile, taking a couple steps closer to him.

"You're welcome here anytime." He breathes out a laugh as his eyes dart to the floor. You offer to take the food for him, setting up a spot for the both of you on your couch. "I am curious, how did you manage to get fast food without raising any suspicion?" You ask as you pop a fry in your mouth. IV chuckles in response, adjusting to sit more comfortably.

"It's a funny story actually, I pulled up at the drive through and the kid working there told me he liked my costume." You laugh.

"Really?" He nods. The thought of the Fall Festival popped into your mind; how you would love to bring the four of them because you know they would have a great time, how it would give them a chance to see the town for what it really was, and of course your little crush on the charming masked men didn't help either. "IV, do you think Vessel plans on ever going into town? You know, aside from you guys making supply runs under the cover of darkness." You joke.

"If I'm being completely honest, I don't know." He pulls his mask away from his face to take a sip of his drink. "I'm the newest of our little group so I can't give you the whole story, but from what I understand up until we reached here things weren't too great. There's a lot of people out there who want to get rid of us before they even have a chance to get to know us. We've been run out of town after town, sometimes through more… humane means… other times not so much. But, we have something good here, with the camp in the woods, with you." He pauses for a moment to smile at you. "That's something I want to try and hold onto for as long as I can."

You study him for a moment, "what if I tried to help?" You offer. "I could be the middleman for you. People in town know me, I grew up here, that has to mean something. I just… I don't want you to have to constantly be worried about someone being out to get you. I know that if they met you, if they got to know the people I know you are, they wouldn't be afraid anymore."

"I'm sure Vessel would be interested in hearing you out. Who knows, maybe you'll actually convince him." He chuckles. "Between you and me, if you bat those pretty little eyes at him, I'm sure you could convince him to do just about anything." He jokes as he shoots you a wink.

"I bet that line works on all the girls, huh?" You giggle, trying to shake off the heat that had settled in your cheeks.

"As long as it works on you I'm set." You playfully smack his arm. He nestles back into the couch cushions, letting out a soft groan as he stretches an arm over the back, the back of your neck buzzing as you feel his warmth seep into your skin.

"You're all a bunch of flirts." You smile at him.

"A bunch of flirts?" You roll your eyes at his mock annoyance. "It's not my fault that you're so captivatingly beautiful." You noticed that growing familiarity in your chest. The steady thrum of your heartbeat as you tried to hide your flustered state. IV leans in closer to you, his side pressed flush against your body. "Once I met you I understood what they were all fussing over." He chuckles before muttering, "the perfect being brought to us by Sleep." You turn to look at him, his hazy blue eyes coaxing you in deeper with every passing second.

"Who's… who's Sleep?" You whisper. IV tilts his head, a curious expression matching yours. The pieces must have clicked together because he returned to his usual smiling self a moment later.

"You'll find out soon, Vessel's probably waiting for the right time to explain." You accepted his explanation without a fuss. You trusted that if it was something you needed to know they would tell you. He glanced up at the clock, "I'm sorry to cut things short, love, but I should head back." You nod, standing and walking him over to the door.

"Thank you for bringing some food." You smile.

"Anytime." He responds with a wink. "Get some rest, alright? II will throw a fit." You both shared a laugh before IV reached out and pulled you into his arms. You froze at first, not fully comprehending that he had wrapped you in a hug. But, the moment realization set in your arms slipped around his torso. Neither of you were in a rush to let go, the two of you standing in a comfortable silence as IV held you close, gently swaying you from side to side.

"Goodnight, doll." His hand lingers in your hip, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze before slipping out the door.

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Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @herripinkle @thepoisonedchalice @themultiverseofmars @saturnhas82moons @wingsofeternitysstuff @creamwhxre @itsyagirl-snowflake @bookishpenguino @m0cha-bunny @coreofpleasure @madsthenightowl @dangerkitten1705 @rainy-darling @shad0wcast @amara-among-the-stars @venuswinnyix @dontpercieve-me-pls @ripleyswife @thepityscene @lipstick-and-lycanthropes @vmpirekiss @savaneafricaine @mustluvecho @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe (I think that's everyone, if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!!)

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser — Nervous Like a Bad Dog

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 0.9k TYPE: Humor, Fluff (debatable), Early relationship WARNING(S): tw Kaiser, tw AWKWARD

You are taunting him.

This is an offense Kaiser considers very grave. Of course you’ve done it before and often to his face, and it can be fun in a way like a fake chase where the victim knows they’re not in any real danger (maybe the word is ‘playful’ even though both of you get foul with it), but this kind of mockery is degrading. You’re not doing it on purpose, which makes it an act of second nature. And that means it's unforgivable.

“I hate this corny ass movie.” You gesture at the screen. “Wish they’d scream more, also.”

“You said you wanted to watch it,” murmurs Kaiser, not really giving a fuck considering he’s not even paying attention to the movie. His gaze is fixated on your hand, now far away from his again. Just when his skin was about to brush against yours and he was mentally congratulating himself for his discretion, you pulled away in such a blithe manner. All that straining for nothing.

“Well it sounded entertaining like, in a bad way, but it’s just boring. Also the religious themes are so superficial and edgy, you can’t even laugh. I think they should’ve been Amish. At least that would’ve been funny.”

You shift, settling your hand back over the couch. Kaiser wishes you were a little closer, though at least he can resume the hand holding mission, inching his fingers towards yours again. The physical response to what he’s attempting is embarrassing. With every advance his heart races harder, and his palms are sweaty, and it’s just fucking ridiculous. He can imagine your skin under his, almost tangible.

Technique-wise it’s not complicated. Despite the amount he’s tensing up, Kaiser understands, logically, that he’s making a mountain out of a molehill. But it is a tender gesture and Kaiser doesn’t know how to be gentle or sweet. Softness is alien to him. There is a certain light he needs you to see him in, to come off as suave and charming. It has to be perfect and smooth and like he’s done it thousands of times before, even though now will be the first. And you will swoon over him also, he’ll make sure of it.

Almost there, he’s about to grasp your hand in his, holy shit-

“Micha, are you even paying attention?” You adjust your position again, pulling it away completely as you recline on your side against the armrest. “I thought a pretentious snob like you would have more critiques to make?”

“The movie’s so shitty it has rendered me speechless,” he says. It comes out easy and natural enough, but his blood is boiling. Can you not sit still for more than a second?! This was the seventh time!

“Fair enough,” you reply, eyes still glued to the screen.

You’re teasing him, aren’t you? Otherwise how would it happen so much? You think messing with him is funny??? Exploiting his moment of weakness and faltering?!

Kaiser smirks (at nothing; the gesture is pointless since you’re not even looking at him and entirely performative for himself). As if you’ll get the better of him. Maybe more drastic measures are in order.

He starts scooting closer. You’re still bitching about the movie and with how slow he’s moving, he doubts you’re noticing him closing in on you, and even if you are you’re choosing to feign ignorance to it in your transparent attempts at belittling him. Well, that’s the way he’s perceiving your behavior, anyway, as a personal slight against him.

His arm is about to reach you, will reach you, wrap around you. He’s going to embrace you soon. Heart thumping away in his chest, Kaiser realizes his throat is dry all of a sudden when he swallows, but it’s going to happen-

You stand up and head to the bathroom without a second glance in his direction.

Kaiser sits there frozen in whatever position he was in mid-movement before your betrayal, jaw hanging open, and he realizes he must look like a stupid buffoon at the moment. He is livid, however. How dare you!? When he grits his teeth, it hurts a little.

After assuming a more acceptable and casual stance, he heeds the tv, finally. Some girl tries to drown the main character, but ends up dying of a head injury instead somehow and then some other bullshit starts happening.

Wow. You weren’t kidding, this movie is fucking garbage. It almost distracts him from his predicament.

You return and sit back down next to him all relaxed like you haven’t been actively giving him an uptick in cortisol and adrenaline. Do you think this is a game? It’s as if you can’t even tell you’re dealing him psychic damage — playing innocent and oblivious to your transgressions. What a cunning pretense that is.

Kaiser… grabs your hand and tugs it. And stares at you straight on. It’s kind of unnerving and intense for no reason.

You raise your eyebrows at him as if he’s being strange, this confused expression on your face. “Why are you squeezing so hard? I value my blood circulation, you know?”

Eye twitching, he corrects his grip to a proper, more sensible one, lacing your fingers together. You do not understand what his deal is. Kaiser says, “This will be the best hand holding of your fucking life even if it’s the last thing I do.”

… What.

Unable to help yourself, you burst out laughing. “You’re so odd, Micha.”

___

POV you wanted to have a date but your boyfriend is perpetually mentally stuck in his own version of silent hill

[skywlker-sluvtt]

🎥 with ani? I CANT GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD.

OH MY LORDY LORDY ANI MAKES THE BEST SEX TAPES CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE (pornstar!ani in a different universe I'm not kidding)

also mentions of hardcore porn below please don't take anything I write super seriously, I'm just being gross <3

anakin x fem!reader 18+ below the cut nsfw emoji ask game

🎥 filming or making a sexy movie

✧ anakins a freak as i discuss in every single post I make about my baby boy

✧ and when he pulls out a camera and suggests the idea it doesn't even shock you. i mean at first, you think he just wants to film something vanilla until he brings out the props. cuffs, a bit of rope and a gag. he wants to make a hardcore porno with you, in the grossest way possible.

✧ he wants to get the angles right and everything making sure to put your body on display for when he rewatches it.

✧ the shitty camera quality really brings out the porno vibes in it and anakin loves it, the more realistic the better I guess. he likes to record you sucking him off while he talks dirty to you. (bonus points if you got messy makeup on) that's his favourite thing to wank to at a later date.

✧ next he ties you up against the headboard and films every inch of your gorgeous body. maybe you're gagged too if you're into that. he takes a few different shots of him fucking you. pov shots and from the side. when he watches it later on he loves pretending like it's actually happening. seeing you from different angles is also a treat for him. seeing his pretty girl from another point of view is his favourite. feeds those perverted desires even more.

✧ when he's done fucking you dumb and has you drooling all over the pillows he records the cum leaking out of your swollen pussy. breeding kink go brrrrrr

✧ speaking of jizz, he's definitely gonna give you a face load of his cum and take a few photos of the shiny liquid coating your face. if you get lucky he'll set up the camera to watch him lick it gently from your cheeks. it's absolutely disgusting but kinda hot as well

✧ anakin would also never refuse you if you requested to make one where he was being submissive. he'll let you do whatever your heart desires to make him look like a porn star for you. i mean he kind of owes it to you after the shit he's recorded you doing.

✧ when you find the time to you make anakin into the most submissive man in the world. you film yourself sitting on his face and edging him till he's whimpering, drooling and calling you mommy. he'd be a perfect twinky-ass sub for you <3

✧ even though i made this super pOrNy i believe that he'd also film soft sex with you too. that shit makes him horny and feel happy. it reminds both of you how much you love each other when you're apart and it can be really sweet when you catch those intimate moments on camera. especially the quiet "I love you's" you exchange throughout it.

✧ after you finish filming part of your aftercare is watching the video back and giggling together before falling asleep.

[gcslingss]

heart to heart. colt seavers.

summary: the last two days were being especially shitty. your close friend colt invites you over to a scene shoot, and suddenly everything becomes a little bit better.

pairing: colt seavers x gn!reader

warnings: heavy fluff, slight angst, kissing, mild swearing.

word count: 1.8k

notes: firstly, yes, the fic's name is mac demarco's song. i recommend listening to it while reading this. secondly, i had a terrible day today, thus the birth of this fic. hope you guys enjoy :)

p.s: colt is the sweetest guy ever. i wish he was real.

Today had been the worst day of the week.

You’d been told off, looked down at, or backhandedly insulted by nearly everyone you spoke to, and that didn’t leave the best feeling in you by the time it was nearly midnight and you were still awake, staring at the ceiling of your room.

Even your mum had called you clingy and ignored you, and your neighbour had started to pretend you didn’t exist, ignoring your attempts to talk to him, to give him the cake you’d made that afternoon, and he made sure to make you see how much of a good time he was having with his girlfriend.

And to top it all off, your best friend hadn’t contacted you in a week. You knew he was a stuntman and therefore was often busy, but that didn’t mean he could completely ignore you.

You really didn’t know what you’d done wrong to be having such a shitty day.

that’s when your phone pinged beside your pillow. You wouldn’t have checked it, but it pinged with the special sound you’d set for Colt Seavers.

What the fuck? There was no way Colt was texting after an entire fucking week.

You were bitter about it, but not enough to ignore it. So you picked up the phone, and saw two new texts from him in the lock screen preview.

Hi :)

You’re probably sleeping right now, but I’m way too excited not to tell you right now

You waited to see where he was going with this. A minute later, the third text came.

We’re shooting a really special scene for the movie I’m part of tomorrow - I have a big role

And then another one.

D’you wanna come? It would be so cool if you did

You would’ve been lying if you said you didn’t feel your heart warm up when you read that, a smile tugging at your lips. Any irritation you felt for him melted away.

You didn’t hesitate to properly open the text and send him a quick reply.

I’m up, shockingly

Yeah, I’d love to come :]]

There was an enthusiastic response, and then he went offline. 

Well. 

At least there was something to look forward to now.

You placed the phone aside and shuffled into the covers of your bed. You needed sleep if you were going to support him right tomorrow.

… … …

“-and apparently it’s some sort of sci-fi movie, and he’s got a whole lot of-“

“Sorry, I kinda need to go.”

And just like that, your so-called childhood friend walked away, eyes still glued to her phone’s screen, still giggling, not bothering to ever give you a wave or second look.

You stared at her leaving figure rather desolately, feeling numb, yet highly irritated. It only took a few seconds for the irritation to simmer down into severe self-doubt.

Were you annoying? Is that why nobody wanted to talk to you? 

Did you say too much? Or were you not interesting enough? 

What the hell was everyone’s problem?

The only who’d shown any signs of tolerating you recently was Colt, but there was this heavy feeling in your heart that even he was being fake. 

Maybe you shouldn’t go to the shoot. He probably only invited you as a courtesy. he probably didn’t even want you there.

Like a fucking sign from the sky, your phone pinged, and a new message from him read-

Hope you didn’t forget you’ve got an appointment with me today doofus

You didn’t want to laugh, but it bubbled through your throat anyway, and something akin to the feeling of holding a warm candle on a winter day spread through your fingers.

He was so annoying.

… … …

You hadn’t moved a single muscle out of your little square for the past 2 hours, your arms stiff by your sides, your hands anxiously fiddling with each other, your bottom barely touching the chair you were given, and your eyes downcast, staring emptily at the sand.

There had been 3 takes of Colt’s super-actiony ‘falling from the sky’ stunt to be approved by the director. 

It was break time now, and all the present actors and the director had retreated to their trailers. the only people outside were some of the snacking stuntmen, two extras fanning themselves, and you, too absorbed in your self-deprecating thoughts to have even realized the shoot was on break.

“You alright?”

Your neck could’ve snapped with the speed you looked up at, and you physically felt your face muscles cramp when you shifted expressions from despairing to absolutely peachy in less than a second.

“Hey! Yeah, I’m good,” you said, forcing a smile, “Just peachy.”

No. That word should’ve stayed in your head. Fuck.

Colt frowned, smiling almost suspiciously, “When have you ever used that word out loud?”

“…Just now,” you unconvincingly said. You were far too tired to come up with a good response.

“Was I good?” he asked, brushing past it, and you nodded, the smile becoming a little bit more genuine than before. 

“You were great.”

He smiled too, and then observed you for a moment, his eyes searching, searching for any sign that you weren’t okay.

That was the plain truth, but you couldn’t let him know - not on his big day. 

“I’m okay, Colty,” you said, patting him on his shoulder. You could see the extras watching your interaction, and your skin prickled.

“I’m gonna get going now, okay?” you said, standing up as stiff as ever, and turned, only to feel Colt’s hand pull on your wrist, stopping you.

“What?” you whined. Colt turned you by the shoulders to face you and watched your face, and you tried to ignore the way his lips formed the softest, fondest smile as he said, “Don’t go yet, c’mon.”

“You…you’re going to be busy, and I probably have something waiting for me at home, and I don’t want to imp-“

“D’you wanna talk for a bit? Maybe in Tom’s trailer?”

It became clear to you that he was not planning on letting you leave yet. 

You thought about how tired you were, mentally and physically. Your brain hurt from all the buzzing, and your muscles hurt from the constant rigidity.

But then you thought about Colt, and his pretty smile, and his big blue eyes, and his husky laughter, and your mouth mumbled a soft “Okay.”

Colt nodded, and slung an arm over your shoulder as the two of you walked across the set towards the trailers.

… … …

“So Tom doesn’t mind if you use his trailer?”

“I mean, it’s not like he knows about it, so…”

You laughed and punched Colt in the arm, causing him to make a face that made you laugh harder.

But then the laughter died down, and your brain started buzzing again. You went silent, a dormant smile still on your face.

Colt noticed.

“I can tell when you’re feeling shitty,” he murmured, and as his hand slid into yours, you wondered how he even managed to use the exact word you used to describe your day.

You shook your head and shrugged, muttering a “I’m fine,” but then he scooted closed to you and began to rub gentle circles on your palm, uttering your name so softly, and something in you snapped.

Tears came to your eyes as your head drooped and you softly sobbed, throat feeling awfully tight.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice muddled, “I didn’t mean to cry, I’m sorry…”

“Hey, no, c’mon,” you heard him say softly, and his two arms wrapped around you, engulfing you in a hug you wished you’d gotten ages ago.

His fingers carded through your hair, his left hand held you close, and you could feel his lips by your temple, silent but reassuring.

You cried for an entire six minutes, because every time you told yourself to stop, the nonchalant gaze of your neighbour or the sharp words of your mum flashed in your mind and the tears came back twice as heavy.

Colt let you cry, and didn’t say a word about how you were drenching his jacket in tears, his little movements being the only thing keeping you from collapsing in your head.

When the weight you’d been feeling the entire day seemed to finally disappear, you pulled away, but only partly, still seeking Colt’s warmth.

“You alright?” he asked, voice softer than a whisper, and you felt so relieved when you smiled so naturally, and nodded.

“Yeah.” You wiped away the tear streaks on your cheeks. “I just… had a really bad few days. Everyone sounds a little extra rude.”

“I hope I’m not on the list,” he said, and you chuckled, shaking your head.

“Of course not,” you said. “You made everything better, if anything.”

“Well, I’m glad.”

You looked up at him. His gaze was keen, concerned, and so warm. His fingers were still caressing your palm. 

What a wonderful creature he was.

You found yourself leaning in and kissing him, something he most certainly did not expect, but the  faint sigh he elicited told you he didn’t mind it whatsoever. 

He kissed you back, harder.

Shit.

The heat of his mouth, the feeling of his chapped lips against yours, his large hands cupping your face, and the little sounds he made when you brought his head close seemed to complete the healing of your tired heart, and after what seemed like an eternity, the two of you broke away.

His eyes were fixed on you, flustered, but appreciative now. His face was flushed. 

After a moment’s silence, he looked down at his watch.

“Tom’s gonna be here any minute,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and hesitating. “We should leave this little hellhole.”

“Yeah. Okay.” It was an automatic response, because your brain really wasn’t functioning.

You got down the trailer, and thankfully no one spotted either of you, because of how Tom liked his privacy. 

“There’s a little bit of the scene left,” Colt explained. “They probably don’t need me, but I should go check it out.”

“Of course. Yeah. I-I should probably head home too. I really enjoyed watching you stunt, by the way. It was great.” You gave him a a pat on his back. 

“Good. That’s good.”

Colt nodded, giving you one final grin, and then turned to leave.

No, wait.

“...Colt?” you called out. 

He stopped in his tracks and spun around. He looked expectant.

“Yeah?”

You didn’t know if you were crossing any lines with what you were going to say, but at that moment, you didn’t exactly care. 

“I love you,” you said, and the words came so easily. “And thank you.”

You could see Colt’s breathing hitch, his chest raised mid-breath. Then, slowly breathing out, he murmured the words “I love you too” back, before he asked-

“Could I, um, come over tonight, maybe? I’m gonna be free,so....”

You’d forgotten anything and everything that had annoyed you at this point. All you could hear in your head was Colt now.

“Yeah, of course. Please.”

He grinned at your response, and he gave you a little goodbye wave, before walking away.

Two little hearts became whole that moment.

[mellowsaturns]

at the end of the day

summary: after another failed date, you run into bucky barnes on the way home and the two of you get caught in the rain

warnings: fluff, dancing in the rain, talks about love, romcom vibes i hope, pining bucky

wc: 1.7k

a/n: inspired by the talk @jadedvibes and i had a while ago heheh. men suck sometimes but we gotta put our trust in rom-communism and that everything will work out at the end :)

How many horrible dates will you go on to realize that you're never going to have your happy ending? 

The thought plagued you as you walked down the street. You were going to give up on love completely this time, you promised yourself.

You were deep in thought when a soft voice interrupted your pitiful reverie. 

“Oh?” you said, eyes widening in surprise. “Bucky, what are you doing here?”

A light chuckle filled the air between the two of you before he spoke. “I live in this neighbourhood, doll.” 

You mentally smacked yourself on the forehead. “Oh, right. I forgot.” 

His mouth curved into an amused grin before he took a good look at you. “What are you doing here?” he asked, but he had a feeling he already knew the answer. 

You looked down at your outfit, one so different from the usual attire you have on at the Tower. “Isn’t it kinda obvious?” you teased, though your voice’s laced with defeat. “I was on a date.” 

He hummed, “And how’d it go?” 

“Let’s just say there isn’t going to be a second one,” you answered, finishing off with a sigh.

Bucky winced. “M’sorry it didn’t go well.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you said, “It… it happens a lot, I’m used to it.” 

His brow creased in confusion. “Used to what?”

Did you really have to lay out your shitty love life in front of Bucky Barnes? 

You twiddled your thumb nervously. “Going on bad dates,” you stated, “Never finding anything meaningful from them. Always going home with the feeling of disappointment. You know, the usual.” 

Bucky frowned. He never realized you had problems with the whole… dating thing. At least you didn’t look like it whenever he saw you around the Tower. You were a joy to be around—always surrounded by people. How could you possibly have problems with dating? Half the department was already in love with you. (Not that Bucky was keeping records on names or anything. Maybe a little.) If you had problems with love, then what about someone like him? 

Now that you voiced your problem out loud, you felt a bit better. It’s not that you couldn’t find someone—there’s plenty of someones out there—but none of them made you feel special or seen. That spark you were always looking for seemed to be nonexistent.

Maybe the problem was that you were too picky, your standard was too high—too unrealistic.

Or maybe you were the thing you feared the most.

“Sometimes, I feel like there’s something wrong with me,” you confessed. “No, there must be something wrong with me. Maybe the stuff you see in movies does happen, just not to me because no one wants to put in that effort with me. Maybe, I’m unlovable.”

You never thought you would be confessing all this to him. 

Bucky took a minute to digest your words before speaking again. “Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Looking into his eyes, you wondered if he truly meant it, or if he’s just being kind like he always was. And as if he could read your mind, “I mean it,” he added, reassuring you. 

“Then why…” 

“These people you go on dates with,” he jumped in, “They don’t even realize how lucky they are. You’re amazing,” he said, a gentle smile spreading across his face, “And if they don’t see that or don’t make you feel like you’re on top of the world, then I guess they weren’t that great to begin with. They don’t deserve someone as wonderful as you.” 

You were speechless. Bucky and you weren’t strangers but calling him a friend seemed a bit too… intimate. You don’t even have his number for Christ’s sake. The two of you were just two people who worked in the same building and saw each other frequently and talked here and there. But why did his words mean more to you than any pep-talk your friends gave you? 

“I-l—” you stuttered, “I don’t know what to say. I’m honoured that you think so highly of me.”

If you only knew what Bucky thought of you. He doesn’t really know when it happened, this growing feeling inside of him, but seeing you had become his favourite part of the job. He always tried to spark up small talk (much to everyone’s surprise) but the both of you were busy, always getting whisked away mid-conversation.

Today was the first time he saw you outside of work, in his neighbourhood nonetheless. Perhaps this was his chance—finally some alone time with you. He felt like there were a million things to say, but of course, it came out wrong, as it always does. “I always think about you.” When you raised an eyebrow at him, he corrected himself, “I-I mean I always think highly of you,” he corrected, a tinge of pink evident on his cheek. 

A small chuckle escaped from you, and you had to look down bashfully, trying your best to hide your flusteredness. I always think about you.

You wondered why you never paid more attention to the Avenger who always had business in your department. 

“That’s really sweet of you to say. If I’m being honest, I was genuinely ready to give up on love tonight,” you said with a small laugh.

Bucky swallowed. “Loo—” Before he could finish his sentence, something wet landed on top of his forehead. Then another one. And another one. It had started to rain. He could have sworn that wasn’t the predicted forecast tonight.

The two of you looked up, letting the steady gentle rain hit the surfaces of your skin. It was probably a good idea to find shelter, maybe stand underneath a roof for the time being until the unexpected summer rain went away.

But the two of you just stood there, completely still, looking ridiculous to onlookers. And then you bursted into a fit of laughter. “Sorry, it’s just… I always imagined what it would be like to be stuck in a storm.” 

He grinned. “And how is it?” he yelled through the pitter-patter. 

“Hmm. Not as romantic as I thought it’ll be,” you noted amusingly.

Bucky met your eyes for a moment, then swallowed a breath. “Dance with me?” he asked, extending a hand towards you. 

You raised a brow, heart skipping a beat at his words. You would be lying if you said the hopeless romantic in you never imagined yourself in this position multiple times. You just never thought it would be with Bucky Barnes.

Taking his hand, he led you with small slow steps. 

“You must’ve done this a lot back in your days,” you teased playfully.

Connecting his eyes with yours, he confessed, “This is the first time I’ve danced with someone in the rain.”

Bringing you in and out, and then lifting your arm to twirl you around while the water rippled beneath your feet, it felt like you were suddenly transported elsewhere. Like a movie you had seen on screen that had you swooning. Or a novel you had read late into the night with a gigantic smile on your face. You almost expected some low jazz to start playing soon. But even if it didn’t, it would’ve been fine, because you had the soft glow of moonlight peeking out from behind the clouds, the summer rain, and Bucky with you. It was already enough to set the scene. 

He looked particularly boyish tonight with his hair sticking to his forehead. You had the urge to sweep the strands away.

You let out a small yelp when Bucky dipped you down before pulling you back up so you were pressed into his chest. You were glad the sound of raindrops masked your beating heart. 

He was a bit rusty, he knew that. It has been over seventy-years since he danced with someone. He couldn’t believe how you would think no one wanted to put in the effort with you. He would dance with you in the rain all the time if that’s what you wanted. Would probably do anything you asked of him, if he was being honest.

You’re not a very good dancer, you had to admit. But Bucky was leading you through the whole thing, even smiling down at you when you accidentally stepped on his foot. 

You wondered how many people this beautiful and charming being of a man had swept off their feet before. Hopefully, he still had space in his heart for you. Because you were completely wooed.

As the rain slowed down and sky started to clear ever so slightly, you realized that the spark you were always complaining about not feeling—it was here, in this very moment, ignited from the touches between the two of you. It was there the moment you took his hand. Giving him another sneaky glance, your eyes lit up like a thousand stars.

Maybe the right person was in front of you all along. 

Bucky doesn’t know how long the two of you stood there in the aftermath, looking into each other's eyes. It’s the brightest thing in the city, he thought.

Moments later, you removed yourself from him. “Well, the rain stopped.” 

“It certainly did,” he said, sounding faintly amused. 

“I guess I should get going,” you said, though you were still lingering around.

Bucky, who was soaked to the bones, asked, “Should I take you home?”

You shook your head. “I’m okay. My place is only a few stations from here. Thank you for offering though.” Maybe next time.

Before you completely escaped from his vision, he shouted your name, causing you to pause in your steps and look over your shoulder. “I hope you’re not giving up on love.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to fight back a smile.

How could you?

Bucky Barnes gave you a million reasons to believe in love again. 

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 20 Prompt: Sick Day

Tags: Established Relationship, Mentions Of Past Parental Loss, Eddie Munson Needs A Hug, Steve Harrington Is A Sweetheart

wc: 1290 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve doesn’t get it.

He’s seen Eddie in worse shape.

Death knocking on his door, tubes, and machines keeping him alive. In spite of the shitty cards he was dealt, he always had a smile on his face — cracking jokes with the kids, charming his way into extra pudding cups and sides of mashed potatoes. Steve’s pretty sure they mourned the day he was finally released because he had a way of making even the crabbiest doctors smile.

If ever there was a time to be miserable and wallow in the pain it was then.

And yet, a winter cold has managed to knock Eddie on his ass, turning him into the most miserable, helpless version of himself.

Steve hates it.

Not because Eddie is whiney and dramatic (he’s both of those things on a good day), but because he doesn’t know what to do to help.

Days and nights blend together as Eddie stays sheltered in his bedroom. His bed is a nest of blankets and pillows — half the time he’s burrowed under them, no doubt making his fever worse, and the other half he’s propped up on pillows, desperately hoping the elevated position will ease his cough. A hoard of half-empty bowls of soups and napkins full of nibbled-on crackers are scattered on his nightstand along with the cold medicine Wayne picked up three (maybe, four?) days ago. The one Eddie refuses to take because it makes him feel worse.

His usual unruly curls are flattening by the second and his cheek has a near-permanent indentation of his wrinkled pillowcase at this point. If it weren’t for his frequent trips to the bathroom, Steve would be worried about muscle loss and blood clots on top of the hundred other ways he’s worrying about Eddie right now.

Steve’s tried everything. His grandmother’s chicken noodle soup, coaxing Eddie into a warm shower, even phoned Ms. Henderson to see if she had any home remedies he wasn’t thinking of. Nothing seems to be working.

At a loss, Steve tiptoes into Eddie’s room hoping to find him sleeping beneath the covers.

He’s not.

“Eddie, baby,” Steve coos. Toeing his shoes off, he pads his way over to the edge of the bed and runs a hand over the corner of the bed in search of Eddie’s legs. When he’s certain they’re not there, he sits. “What can I do to help?”

Eddie groans and presses the right side of his face deeper into the pillow. A single tear races down his cheek as he sniffles. “Could you just lie with me?” he croaks, voice horse from lack of use and the sore throat he’s been fighting for the last few days.

“Course, baby. Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

He doesn’t wait for the answer and instead shuffles up the bed. Resting his back against the headboard, he kicks out his legs over the hoard of blankets and lets himself sink into the warm mattress. Once he’s situated, Eddie shifts until his back is pressed against Steve’s side. It’s weird feeling the heat that radiates from his body — he’s usually the one with cold hands and feet in the relationship.

“Didn’t want to get you sick,” Eddie mumbles eventually.

“Don’t mind getting sick, if it means you’ll feel better.” Steve means it. He would shoulder all the sickness and pain in the world if it meant that Eddie and everyone else he loves never had to feel anything but happy and healthy. If only the world worked like that. “Do you need anything?”

It’s silent in the room as Steve waits for Eddie’s response. So quiet, Steve wonders if maybe Eddie’s drifted to sleep and he’s waiting for a response that’s never going to come. But then Eddie shifts beside him, slowly rolling onto his other side so he can face him.

“I need my mom,” Eddie whispers just as the floodgates open, tear after tear falling from his eyes in that slow dramatic way they only do in movies. At least, Steve thought it only happened in movies.

His heart seizes in his chest as Eddie reaches for the soft sweater he’s wearing. Doesn’t complain when he buries his face into it, staining it with tears and snot and whatever else as Eddie’s body shakes under the weight of his tears.

Christ.

He doesn’t get it, not entirely. His own mother was never the nurturing type — she’d slap down medicine on his bedside table and leave a list of places she’d be if he needed to reach her, but that was it. Never once did she rest her hand against his forehead to check his temperature, let alone sit at his bedside.

But he knows Eddie’s mom would have done those things. Probably did do all those things judging by the way his boyfriend is sobbing in his arms right now.

Admittedly he doesn’t know much about Ms. Munson — he’s gathered it's hard for Eddie to talk about her. But he knows enough to know the world lost an incredibly kind soul way too early.

“Eds,” Steve sighs, scooting down until he’s lying down with Eddie firmly curled up on his chest. He gets both arms around him, squeezing him tighter. “I wish I could.”

“She always—” Eddie hiccups, wincing as the motion burns his already aching throat. “She always used to lie down with me. Run her fingers through my hair until her ring got caught in my curls. Then she’d move to tracing up and down my arm.”

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice. He lets one hand drift into Eddie’s tangled curls, scratching his scalp before gently carding his fingers through a few strands. His other hand ghosts up and down his arm, goosebumps erupting in his featherlight touches wake.

“Like this?”

Eddie melts under the contact, nuzzling deeper into the warmth of Steve’s sweater. “She made the best grilled cheese sandwich when I was sick. And she’d cut them in weird ways. Let me eat them in bed while she told some story she made up on the spot.”

“Well, m’no storyteller. But I can make a grilled cheese. Probably not as good as your mom's though.”

“No,” Eddie agrees, the smallest smile tugging at his lips as he looks up. “She had a secret ingredient she never told me.”

“Bet it was love.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, shaking his head, “That’s lame.”

“Yeah, it is. She wouldn’t have had a lame secret ingredient.”

“She was the best,” Eddie sighs, closing his eyes for a moment before they flutter open again. This time he wiggles out of Steve’s embrace and moves his head back to his pillow before grimacing at the wet stain left behind on Steve’s sweater. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Eds. S’just a sweater.”

“I know. I just…” he groans and rubs circles over his eyes with his fists. “I always miss her more when m’sick.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says, pulling at him until Eddie’s back on his chest and his hand is back in his curls. “You can tell me about her, you know? Whenever you want. I like hearing you talk about her.”

“Maybe when my throat doesn’t burn like Satan’s living room.”

Steve laughs.

There’s his boy.

“You know, that medicine over there might help with that,” Steve teases, gesturing to the untouched medicine.

Eddie wrinkles his nose in disgust, shaking his head.

“Alright, you big baby,” Steve chuckles. “Why don’t you get some sleep then?”

“Will you stay?” Eddie asks, already fighting sleep judging by his fluttering eyelashes.

“Course I’ll stay,” he whispers. “I’ll even make you a grilled cheese when you wake up.”

“Full of love?”

“Yeah, Eds. Full of love.”

[kyemna]

Time-skip Haikyu boys and their love language

Pt.2

Tw: suggestive, profanity, sex below the cut

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Kemna: Gift Giving

• I don't think Kemna is really big on physical touch, and he's kinda lazy. So I think gift giving is this guy's love language.

• Got you a gaming setup so you can play together.

• He would be so into roleplay/costumes.

So obviously he got you a maid outfits, cat ears, this guy is freaky. Somehow it's always the quiet ones you gotta look out for.

• Likes it when you give him something too. Not in a materialistic way, he can do that himself, my man is rich, but in a physical way.

• Gets you a cute skirt, will want you on all fours. Maybe a blowjob underneath his desk when he's busy?

• Also, something else I thought of, kinda unrelated, but I think he's totally into voyeurism. Because of this he sometimes invites Kuroo over to do his 'job' for him, so his lazy ass can watch.

Bokuto: Physical Touch 100%.

• We all know how energetic he is, so he often jumps on you (forgetting how fucking heavy he is.)

• Has to constantly be touching you, and not always in a discreet way..

For example: it could be as simple as holding your hand under the table in a restaurant. Or, he could be fully clinging to you. And I mean CLINGING. Both at home and in public.

• This guy as so much fucking stamina, so I can just see him fucking your brains out for hours. Especially when he's had a shitty or stressful day. Overstimulation, we don't know her.

• The upside to this ^ (for him) is, because he re-arranged your organs, you can barely walk, so he can just carry you around the house all day! Yippie!

• Loves to snuggle with you on the couch and binge watch all your favorite movies and series. Even better when it's Friday and ya'll can pull an all nighter.

Sugawara: Quality Time

• All he wants is your undivided attention. And he will do anything to get it.

Snatches your phone when you're not looking, hides your earphones or the remote.

• So when he's railing you like it's the last time he'll ever see you again, he wants you looking at him. Eye contact.

When you do somehow manage to look away, he stops all his movements, no matter how close you were, until you look at him again.

• He's a giver, but everyone likes so be on the receiving end sometimes right? So a massage, a home cooked meal.. yk or you jerking him off/a blowjob could never go wrong!

• Since he's a teacher, and probably always kinda busy, he takes his work home and wants you to tell him about your day while he's grading a student's test. We love a guy that can multitask.

• Usually greets you with 'Hey pretty', when he joins you in bed after a long day.

Oikawa: Physical Touch

• When he's not on the court or in the gym training, he's with you. Or rather, he's on top of you. Asleep. While you read or watch a movie.

• Loves, loves, LOVES your legs. When you're doing literally anything, his hands always find your legs. Brushing his fingers across them while you're cooking, having your legs on his shoulders when he's pounding into you, or tracing his lips along them, working his way up.

• Also adores your boobs. No matter what shape, size or colour they are, his face is buried in them.

• Such a sucker for back hugs. When he's folding the laundry, and you sneak up behind him. Always hears you coming, but is really good at faking his fear.

• In fall or winter he surprises you! With cold hands. Under your shirt. He will keep them there until they're warm again.

• In public, if you're not big on PDA, he brushes his fingers along yours when handing you something, as a small sign of affection.

I apologize if there were any grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language^^

Thank you for reading!

[rabesbabe]

intertwined, sewn together

Cassandra Webb x Reader

Summary: Your girlfriend, Cassie, has been away from you for too long. And now that she’s finally back around you she feels like you’re not giving her the attention she deserves. (alludes to smut but no actual smut)

Requests: Open!

A/N: I wanted to write a little bit of some insecure Cassie soo here’s that. Readers a little idiot in this but they get better towards the middle I swear. I hope you guys like this sorry for my shitty writing as usual!

Cassie rolled her eyes. She sat on the couch in the apartment you and her shared. She sipped at her wine while watching you laugh at a joke your friend, or so you said, made.

Your friend was gorgeous, she had brown eyes, freckles, blonde hair and somehow always looked like she came straight from the beach. So basically the exact opposite of your girlfriend, Cassie Webb.

Deep down Cassandra knew she shouldn’t be jealous. You were deeply devoted to her and she knew you’d never do anything to ruin your relationship. But, her surface feelings were greater than what her mind was telling her.

I mean, she had just gotten home from a week long trip to Peru and the most you had said to her since your friend arrived was “Good Morning”.

She couldn’t stand the sight of watching you two giggle while drinking wine and talking. Maybe she could’ve tried to join in the conversation but instead she got up suddenly and went into your shared room. She’d rather not watch her girlfriend be stolen away from her. So, instead she decided to go to sleep.

“Is she okay?” Your friend, Grace, said. You slightly raise your shoulders as if to shrug. And you look at her with a puzzled face. You had no idea why Cassie walked off so abruptly.

“It is getting late i’m sure she’s probably just tired,” You say looking down at your wrist checking the time.

“You’re right I should probably go home anyway.” Says the blonde.

“Sounds good i’ll see you later Grace.” You give her a sympathetic smile goodbye as she exits your apartment.

As you clean up the left over dishes you smile at the thought of finally being able to go to sleep next to your girlfriend after her being gone for so long.

But first you had to make sure she was okay.

Cassie has never really been a people person. So, you just assume that maybe having company drained her social battery faster than usual.

You walk over to your room to check on her.

“Cassie?” You say lightly before entering the room.

You take in the sight of her. She’s basically buried under the covers with just her head peaking out. She looks cute and you almost wish you could take a picture of her, but you knew better.

You sit down on the bed next to her and lift the covers up. “Are you okay babe?” You ask, while reaching over to fix her lopsided bangs.

She pushes your hand away from her face and mumbles out a barely audible “Yeah.” She turns away from you and pulls the covers back over herself.

You frown at her reaction and wonder if maybe she just doesn’t want to talk about whatever’s bothering her. Sometimes it takes her a while to open up and you wanted to respect that.

“Do you want to watch a movie maybe?” You ask hoping that maybe the topic change and the idea of relaxing together would cheer her up.

To your surprise she sits up and moves from under the covers. Glaring at you she snaps out, “Why? Wouldn’t you rather watch a movie with your friend Grace? I wouldn’t want to interrupt you guys ‘quality time.’” She says emphasizing the words quality time.

You widen your eyes at her accusation and even though she’s upset she moves closer to you silently begging for your attention. You finally start to realize that maybe, just maybe she was jealous.

You smile at her in a teasing way. She rolls her eyes at you, “What?” She says, struggling to stay mad at you when you have such a goofy smile on your face.

“Are you upset? About Grace and I hanging out?” You ask.

Cassie sighs and looks down realizing she was a little bit harsh. “No, It’s not her fault,” She shrugs “I guess I just wished you were paying attention to me and not her. I mean I haven’t seen you for a week. It’s like you didn’t miss me at all.” She admits running her hands through her hair.

“Cassie,” You whisper, not knowing what to say to her. You look at her and frown at how sad her beautiful blue eyes look. “I didn’t mean to make you feel ignored, you know I missed you. I spent the whole week thinking about when i’d be able to see you next,” She looks up at you, hopeful.

“I’m sorry my love. My focus should’ve been on you tonight.”

You lean into her for a hug and she opens herself up to you, accepting your apology.

She softly kisses you and when you pull back you notice a small blush over her cheeks.

“I missed you so much.” She admits.

“I missed you too Cassie.” You say and you lean back in to kiss her. This time more passionate than the last. She moves her hands down to your waist. Lightly trying to move your shirt up and you giggle. You pull away from her. “Ohh so you said all of that just to get lucky huh? Wow.” You say sarcastically.

She looks at you and laughs, slightly out of breath from kissing you. “You’re such an asshole.” She says, smiling through bruised lips.

“I know.” You say with a smile.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

One Number Away

Summary: Colter Shaw x Fe!Reader -> Yourself and Colter have known each other for a long time, however when Colter says something he can't regret, you're both forced to live with the consequences.

Disclaimer: 18+ MDNI. This post contains Smut. Light swearing. Fluff. Angst. (I have not finished Tracker yet, but I wish to write a story for him) Not Proof Read.

God, he was so stupid. 

“I could have told you that.” 

Colter turned his head and found;

“Reenie.”

She smiled at him, taking a seat beside him before ordering a cup of coffee, decaf. 

“How did you know where to find me?”

“Well, considering she’s probably at the only nice bar in town, you’d be in the place furthest from her because, like you said, you’re an idiot.”

“I said I was stupid.”

Reenie just gave him a look. 

“Okay, fair enough.”

“So, what did you do?”

“How do you know I did something?”

Reenie thanked the waitress before adding in her cream and sugar. “Because she called me and told me what happened.”

“So then why are you asking me?”

“Because I want to see if you know why you’re an idiot.”

Colter sighed. He should have known. 

It was a few hours ago, but it somehow felt like it was getting fresher and fresher inside of him. 

Colter had been working his case in town when he ran into you and asked for your help. Not that he needed much of it, but he enjoyed your company and two sets of eyes were better than one. 

It was at this time he came to find out what you had been doing since he last saw you. It wasn’t often you both got to meet up, but when you did it was like no time had passed. And yet, a lot of time had passed. 

You had been given a promotion at work, you had bought a home with a covered porch like you had always wanted, and you…were seeing someone. 

Over the course of the next few days, Colter had a few run ins with this certain someone and he couldn’t shake the odd feelings in his stomach. They were like a mixture of protection, jealousy, confusion, and a couple of others he couldn’t put a name to. 

If their first meeting had been icy, their second had been practically frozen in the Ice Age. Colter thought for a moment, stupidly, that you hadn’t noticed. However, the minute your…boyfriend? stood and kissed you goodbye, Colter felt his hand twitch and his back straighten, and walked out of the door, you turned towards him. 

“You can’t even pretend to like him?”

“I do like him!” Colter was lying through his teeth. 

Rick, your…boyfriend’s name, was a decent enough guy, but Colter couldn’t shake his feelings. The confusing pang of growing jealousy in his gut, and the knowledge that, from his point of view, you were way out of Rick’s league. 

And this all came to a head just a few hours earlier. 

“What?”

“What?” Colter replied. 

“I can hear your judgement in the silence. What is it? Colter, if you have something you want to say, just come out and say it.”

“No, it’s nothing.”

“Colter.”

“Did anyone ever tell you you’d be a scary teacher?”

“Yeah, you. All the damn time.” You laughed a little. “Colter, please. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

He knew that much was true. Ever since you first met he’d felt like he could tell you anything. Of course, he still kept some things secret, but if he was ever going to spill them to someone, it would be to you. Colter liked you, but above all, he trusted you. 

And that wasn’t something he admitted lightly. 

Which was why, considering you were one of the few people in this world who he could call his friend, he told you the truth. 

It just didn’t happen to come out the way he wanted it to. 

“He’s not good enough for you.”

Or maybe it did. He just didn’t want it to come out…all the way he wanted. 

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I just meant…” Colter sighed. “He’s good. He’s a decent guy, but he’s not…”

“Not…what?” You searched his face. “Not macho enough? Not smart enough? Not kind enough? Not able to quote some shitty movie off by heart? What? What is he not?”

“Forget I said anything.”

You hurried after him. “No, no. Go on, go ahead. What is it? Because I like him, shouldn’t that be enough.”

“You’re right. It is enough.”

“Not according to you.”

Colter said your name, but you wanted an answer. 

“No, come on. Tell me. What could possibly be wrong with him?”

Turning around quickly, Colter faced you. “You’re too good for him. I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but he’s not good enough for you. All your life, you said you wanted to laugh. You wanted someone who you could laugh with and be-be-be yourself with.” Colter said your name once more. “In the last few days, when you’re with him, you barely laugh. Sure you smile and you chuckle once in a while, but you don’t laugh. Does he even know you? Like actually know you?”

“What? Like you do?”

Colter couldn’t help it but he nodded. 

You laughed. But it wasn’t a happy one. 

“Colter. You can’t be serious.”

“What if I am?”

That was when you straightened and your gaze hardened as you looked at Colter. “There is more to life than just laughing. Rick, he makes me happy. You know nothing of my life, Colter. We see each other less than six times a year and you can’t just waltz in here-”

“Didn’t think I could waltz.”

“And act as if you know everything about me, because you don’t. Or you would see that Rick is more than just “a nice guy” or whatever you called him. So maybe we don’t laugh, but he does make me smile, and at least he’s here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means, Colter.”

“Do I?”

Somehow, your gaze hardened a little more and Colter took a small step back. He knew exactly what you meant. 

Nothing had ever actually happened between either of you, but you made a clear point to him. It was at the end of these meetings that he left. For the next state, the next job, the next adventure, the next trail. 

“You deserve better,” Colter told you. “Someone more than Rick.”

“Who? Like you?”

That struck Colter because…

Because…

He wanted to say…

Yes. 

You scoffed a little, crossing your arms and taking your gaze from his for a moment to look at your feet. “You are…unbelievable. You’re not my boyfriend, or partner, Colter. You don’t get a say in who I deserve.”

Colter was fixed on the spot. 

“Come and find me when you want to apologise.”

Walking past him, you unlocked your car and soon drove away, leaving him standing beside his truck in the car park. 

“Yep.” Reenie said, turning to bring her legs under the counter. “I’m on her side.”

“I’m on her side, too.”

“And you’re an idiot.”

“And I’m an idiot.”

Reenie took a sip of her coffee then placed the cup down. “So, what are you going to do?”

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

“Colter, you two have been friends for years. And knowing her, she won’t throw that friendship away over one stupid fight.”

“I don’t know, Reenie. Maybe there isn’t a way of coming back from this.”

“Of course there is. You apologise.” Reenie told him. “It’s that simple. Hell, she even told you so.”

“But what if I’m not sorry?” Colter asked. “I’m sorry that we had the fight, but I’m not sorry for what I said. She does deserve better.”

Then Reenie said something that shocked Colter. 

She agreed with him. 

“You do?”

“Of course I do. I like Rick, he’s a good guy. But she doesn’t…light up, the same way. She’s happy, but she’s not…her fully.”

“See, if we can see it, why can’t she?”

“Then show her.”

“I did.”

“No,” Reenie shook her head. “You told her. You told her that she’s not happy with him.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Maybe, but that isn’t what she heard. You told her she’s not laughing and that she’s not herself. Show her that she deserves butterflies and tell her the truth.”

“Butterflies?”

Reenie nodded. “Butterflies.”

“But-”

“No. No buts. I’ve had to watch this long enough. Colter, tell her how you feel. Before it’s too late. Don’t be an idiot.”

Colter didn’t have to be told twice. 

By the time he pulled up outside of your house, Colter was shocked. 

You were home. 

You were meant to be on a date.

But Rick’s car wasn’t parked outside. 

And from what he could see, you were home alone. 

So, before he began to border on ‘stalker’, Colter got out of his car and knocked on the door. 

When you heard the knock, you checked your doorbell camera. 

Colter called out your name. “I know you’re home! I-I just want to talk, please.”

Walking from your kitchen and through your living room, you looked at Colter through the small window pane of glass before unlocking the door. 

“What?”

“Can we talk?”

You took a moment before opening up the door and letting him inside. He might have pissed you off, but there was no point in making him freeze himself outside whilst letting the heat out of your house to talk. 

“Thank you.”

“Okay. What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m glad you’re apologising.”

“But I’m not sorry for what I said.”

You scoffed. “Of course.”

Turning around, you walked back into your kitchen with Colter quickly following you. 

“I know you’re mad at me and maybe I shouldn’t have said what I did, but I am sorry that we had a fight over it. And I’m sorry that you’re mad at me and that I upset you. Believe me, I didn’t intend for it to come out like that but-”

“But you’re not sorry for what you said.”

“You deserve so much more.”

“Well, you’ll be pleased to know that he ended things with me, so it looks like I don’t even have that now.”

“What?”

“Rick.” You told him. “He saw us, today, in the parking lot. And in some way or another, he took our fight as proof that you had feelings for me and that I reciprocated them. I did try to tell him the truth but it seemed that his mind was made up.”

“I’m…sorry.”

“Oh, now he’s sorry.”

“I am. I might not have liked him but he’s an idiot for letting you go.”

“So are you,” you said. “An idiot, I mean.”

“No, you’re right.”

“What?”

“You’re right. I am an idiot. I’m an idiot for letting you go.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Colter, whatever you’re getting at…don’t bother. Just…go home and get some sleep.”

“No, I need to tell you. I should have told you. Years ago, in fact.”

“Colter.”

“I like you, y/n. Better yet, I trust you. Which is why I’m telling you the truth and if you want to never see me again after I tell you, then I will respect your decision. Hell, you can tell Reenie everything and give her permission to taunt me about it for the rest of my life.”

“Colter, go home.”

“I was an ass today.”

“Bit of an understatement.”

Colter chuckled. “I was a real ass today.”

“Better.”

“And I should have told you sooner. Rick is a good guy but the fact that he let you go without even so much as a fight makes him, possibly, a much bigger idiot than I am. But I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to let you go. And if he knew what was good for him, he would be here saying the same thing.”

“But he’s not.”

“But he’s not.” Colter repeated. “One of the first things I noticed about you was your laugh. How, even at the smallest things, you could laugh and light up a whole room. All you had to do was smile at someone and anyone in a ten mile radius could see you had helped brighten their day. You are kind, and genuine and deserve so much more than just “a nice guy”. You deserve the world and you deserve someone who wants to see you and hear you laugh. You deserve someone who’s willing to fight for you and know that they’d be an idiot if they let you just walk away.”

“What are you saying, Colter?”

“I’m saying…I know I might not be everything. But I’m asking you to give me a chance. Let me fight for you. I’m willing to try and be everything that you want, as well as what you need.”

“Colter…”

“All I’m asking for is a chance, because it has been killing me all week, watching you sit and smile and be happy when I have seen you light up at just seeing someone smile at someone else. It’s been killing me watching you hold his hand and let him kiss you and-”

Colter felt the air being kicked out of his lungs by his heart as your lips made contact with his. 

Pulling at his jacket, you wretched him in closer to you, feeling his body heat warm yours despite how warm your house already was. 

Colter whispered your name, your kiss like a drug pulling him back for more. 

“Wait, I-I need to know something first.”

“What-”

“Would you have broken it off? Maybe not tonight, but would you have done?”

“Yes.” 

You answered truthfully. Despite how much Colter had pissed you off when he said what he did, it made you think. Which only annoyed you more considering the fact that he was right. With Rick…you didn’t laugh. Well, you did. But not like you did with your friends, or your family or even Colter. Your smile wasn’t as bright as it usually was, and in complete honesty, when you were with Rick, it felt like you had to remain on your best behaviour. But there was one difference. Rick was here. You had seen him more in the space of four months than you had done with Colter in almost six years. And despite that…he didn’t know you. You thought back to all the times when Rick had ordered you coffee, instead of tea. And when he bought Sour Cream and Onion chips when they were your least favourite and how, in spite of how wonderful he could be, he never thought to ask you where your favourite place was to eat.  

Maybe it was from his training, but half of these facts, you didn’t even have to tell Colter. He just seemed to know. He noticed you, in a way unlike anyone else ever had. And that’s what you liked about him. He was thoughtful and respectful and took time to notice what was around him, whether it was out of habit or not. Either way, he noticed. He saw what was right in front of him. 

And he saw you. 

And he saw his mistake. 

Hence why

He was right in front of you. 

“Maybe not tonight, but…yes. You made me think and you were right. We didn’t laugh. I didn’t laugh. What? What is it?”

“Am I dead or did you just say that I’m right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”

“No, no. I, please, repeat it.”

With a small groan, you did. “You were right.”

“Oh, I wished I had a camera.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

“I’d be an idiot not to.”

“Yes, you would.”

“And she agrees with me?” Colter fayned shock. 

You laughed. 

“Like music to my ears.”

Smiling, Colter brought his lips to yours in, what started out soft and sweet, turned hot and heavy. 

Your hands stripped of his jacket, he walked you backwards into the kitchen counter. Once you hit something solid, Colter finally leaned into you more, bringing one hand from your hip to jaw whilst he parted your legs easily with his knee. 

One of his hands pulled you flush against him and a small moan developed at the back of your throat which caused more than one thing to happen to Colter. 

“Which way is the-”

“That way.”

With one smooth move, you were in the air, shortly wrapping your legs around Colter, your hands by his neck. 

Though neither of you made it to the stairs before Colter had you pinned against a wall, his hands trailing down your body before bringing your wrists above your head. From there, with a wicked smile, his lips, teeth and tongue traced down your jaw and the column of your throat. 

“C-Colter.”

With one hand locking your wrist above your head, his other hand came under your ass, kneading and grabbing just enough to border on desperate.

He whispered your name as his mouth left his marks across your collarbone. Some would be left deep enough that even in a week's time, you could still see the memory. 

“Colter?” You tried to get his attention, but even your whispered voice couldn’t break out of the dizziness that came with his kiss. 

“Colter?”

“Mmh?”

“Bedroom. Now.”

Within what felt like an instant and a lifetime, Colter’s foot swung behind him, closing your bedroom door firmly with a small click before he lowered you onto the bed. 

Leaning over you, he made slow yet light work or trailing his mouth after his fingers as they worked down from your lips, to your jaw, neck and collar bone. 

Cupping around you, Colter’s hands met the zip of your top and began to pull it down and, as it came loose, so was he. 

Pulling your top from you, you did the same for him. Feeling his skin, warm and smooth, if a little grained by the multiple scars covered his back and part of his mid-drift. 

All the while, his hands slowly slid up your calf and down your thigh, hooking your skirt and dragging it down your body all the whilst his lips were getting closer and closer to your navel, giving your lungs a little breather for a short lived moment. 

His mouth was soon back on yours as his hands skimmed around your boob, cupping and swiping as you arched into him. 

Before long, his hand slowly trailed down your body leaving gooseflesh in its wake as hooked a single finger around the waistband of your underwear and began to trail his mouth back down your body, licking and teasing you all the way down. 

His mouth remained around one of your boobs, sucking and licking whilst his hand came back up a little to pull you against him at the waist. 

You moaned his name time and time again, as he did with you. 

Leaving his mark once again, just under your breast, his hand snaked down your back and over the curve of your ass, squeezing just as he pressed a kiss to your navel. 

He could feel the heat of you in his palm as he graced over you. Your back, with minimal contact, arched towards him. His mouth getting closer, made sure to leave a mark on either side of your hip bones, trailing to where your body was calling out for him the most. 

You swallowed thickly before Colter’s hand moved towards your core. He was yet to remove your underwear, using the friction of the fabric to be even more wicked. 

Three intricate swirls, a buck of your hips and one breathy laugh from Colter was almost enough to send you over the edge. 

“You’re dripping.”

With small kisses, Colter slowly made his way down, over the outside of your underwear before pushing them aside and taking you in. 

His tongue rough, he licked from your core with a groan before swirling around your clit, keeping his pace slow enough to both satisfy you and torture you. 

You moaned, and moaned again. His name comes from your lips time and time again. 

“Aahh,” 

His tongue got deeper within your core whilst his hands trailed up your body and rolled and flicked at your nipple. 

With his other hand, and his mouth sucking on your clit, he eased one finger inside of you. Your walls pulsated around him enough to make his dick harder than it already was. 

Coaxing you, he soon curled and entered a second finger, however, in a moment they disappeared, as did his mouth. 

A slightly disappointed and confused noise made its way out of your throat but was quickly replaced with a moan of pleasure when Colter finally removed your soaked underwear and tossed it aside, allowing himself greater access to you. 

Two fingers entered inside of you at once, curling up. His thumb circled your clit for a short moment before it was replaced with his mouth, sucking and rolling and licking and swirling at you to your core. 

“Aahh, ahh, ahhh, C-colt-Colter. I think I’m gonna- Ohh, ohhhh, ohhh.”

Your hand shot from the gripped sheets beneath you to his hair, pulling him in slightly closer. He could feel your walls tightening against his fingers as your orgasm overtook you.

As you came down from your climax, Colter sat back for a moment, seemingly out of breath, before lazily kissing back up your body before he reached your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself for a short moment. 

It wasn’t long however before you were ready for more. 

Feeling him kiss back down your jaw, nipping behind your ear and allowing his hand to trail back down your body all the while your tired hands reached out to unbuckle his pants and strip him down to be as naked as you. 

His thumb began to rub slowly against your sensitive clit whilst your own hand ran up and down the length of him. 

His hand remained between you both, rubbing at your clit as slowly he entered you feeling you stretch around him, gloriously clenching at him. 

Your hands travelled up his back, pulling him closer to you and he hit your peak and allowed you a moment to get used to him before telling him to move. 

At first, he was slow, tantalising, before his pace sped up and he began to repetitively hit the one spot you were certain was lost on all men before Colter. 

He had you coming undone for the second time that night, and did the same for you the next morning, but not without you doing the same for him despite his small protest out of respect.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

the devil you don't know (or however it goes)

hunter/raider!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: When Joel's men bring back the (adult) daughter of a rival group of hunters, he sees an opportunity.

Warnings: DARK, dub-con, Joel Miller is not a nice man, suspension bondage, abduction, captivity, themes of torture, mentions of past sexual abuse (not Joel), starvation, dehydration, a smidge of knifeplay, a pinch of bloodplay, seriously dead dove do not eat, ambiguous ending, reader has suicidal ideations because of anxiety and threat of imminent death, I mean it guys, this is somehow less depraved than the last raider!Joel but way darker, author makes up stuff about how garage doors work because google failed her but she's probably on a watchlist now so, canon-typical violence, gags, overnight bondage in an unsafe environment, reader's age isn't specified but she was an adult when the outbreak started

Prompts from this list by @absurdthirst.

also on ao3.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Back in the before, in all the movies and books, when the damsel in distress or dashing hero was captured, they woke up clueless. Thinking they were home before it all settled in. They’d write off the pain as a hangover or a friend’s shitty couch.

That’s not how it happened for you.

When your consciousness first blinked back into the world, you were already having a panic attack. Your brain had registered the clues long before you were involved in the process.

Your cheeks are already streaked with tears before you can open your eyes. Your throat is dry and aching, and you can’t breathe.

Of course, you don’t realize it’s a panic attack at first. You just assume you’re dying. Here in this damp, cold… garage?

Recognition snaps you out of it. You’re still gasping, ragged, like you’re full of broken glass, but you’re alert enough to look around.

You’re alone. Small mercies. Or maybe not, given the way you’re tied up. Coarse rope forces your arms behind your back, wrapped from wrist to elbow. Your shoulders ache from being yanked backward, but the length has some slack, at least, between you and the bracket on the thick steel wall.

No. Not a wall. A door. You’re tethered to a huge door, inflexible accordion-style metal punctuated with heavy-duty brackets. No windows, no rotting wood. Impenetrable.

The door isn’t closed all the way, but it’s locked into place. Even if you got your hands free, it would take time and strength to remove the locks and open it enough to slip out.

The air coming through the bottom is chilly but fresh.

It helps. Focusing on the cold shushes the other alarms in your body. Enough to realize it's not just your arms that are tied.

There are loops of rope around your thighs, tethered to the same point as your hands, and loops around your ankles, which are attached to the side walls nearby. Both grant you enough slack to move a little but hold your legs wide enough to prevent standing.

Not that it matters, you think, as a door on the other side of the room swings open.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” croons a man as he steps through the frame, the soft twang plucking at your heartstrings.

No. No. “Miller.”

“I was surprised to see you, too. M’boys said they found one of your daddy’s people in our territory. Imagine my face when they dragged you in.”

“So let me go. You know he’ll come looking.”

“Will he? Lotta blood out there.”

“Not mine.”

“Oh, I know. I saw the way you carved up one of my guys. You got him good.” He almost sounds pleased. “But daddy doesn’t know that, does he?”

“He’ll still look for me.”

“You think he’s going to break our pact for you? He’s gonna risk facing me over a runaway?” He pauses. “Were you runnin’ to me?”

“No,” you snarl.

“But you are runnin', ain’tcha?”

“No,” you lie. “I just got lost. He’s waiting for me for dinner.” Part of that, at least, is true. You would have never intentionally crossed into Joel Miller’s land.

“Alright, I get it. Better the devil ya know, right?” he grins.

You glared over his shoulder, refusing to look at his stupid, smug face. That was why you had stayed these last few years. When supplies ran lower and lower and your father found other ways to keep his men loyal.

At the end of the day, you had food, water, and shelter.

As you look anywhere but Joel, you see what fills the industrial metal shelving along the walls. There are stacks of boxes of bullets. Pallets worth of bottled water and canned goods. Cases of dried pasta. A couple dirty mattresses are leaning against the back wall. Your stomach sinks.

He sees you taking in the stock. “Sorry, would have kept ya in the other one, where we usually have our… guests, but see, it’s a little messy right now.” He pulls a Dasani out of a case and brings it over, pressing it to your lips after pocketing the lid.

You rear your head back.

“What, you think it’s drugged or somethin’?” Joel takes a big swig out of the bottle, a drop rolling down his chin. He swipes it away with the folded cuff of his denim button-up. “Why would we waste any of the good stuff on you?”

He offers it back up to you, and you let him pour it in your mouth. When he takes it away, you spit it at him.

He sighs. “Wish you hadn’t done that,” he says and tips the bottle over your head. “But if that’s the way you’re gonna be, I’ll go.”

But he doesn’t leave. Not yet. First, he presses and holds the button on the wall and watches as the pulley cranks to life.

The machinery grates, gears crying for oil, and you flinch from the noise. You don’t realize what’s about to happen until it does. The ropes holding you aren’t that long, and as the garage door slides up, it lifts you with it.

You scream. “Stop, please, put me down.”

Joel shakes his head, disappointment exaggerated in his scowl. “Shoulda been good. Now ya know.”

He releases the button when the door is open. You’re hanging, now, with your arms pulled to their limit behind you. Your shoulders already burn. The loops around your thighs and ankles keep you balanced at the expense of spreading you wide. You jerk, trying to… what? Trying to get out? You know that wasn’t happening, not like this. All you were going to do was dislocate your shoulders.

The late summer breeze blows in, and you shiver. Your hair and shirt are soaked.

“Don’t worry,” Joel jerks his head to the dark house across the street. “Ain’t got neighbors.”

He goes to leave, and you can’t help it. “Don’t, please!”

He stops and turns around, head to the side like you’re a puzzle he wants to figure out. “You gonna shut up, or do I gotta take care of that?”

Blood drains from your face.

He comes over to you and pulls a filthy bandana from his pocket. He rolls it up and ducks behind you. You try to lock your jaw, but he digs his fingers into the hinges until you open a little. He presses the bandana into your mouth, yanking back on it, and tying it tight behind your head.

“Night,” he tips his head, flourishing a hand like a fucking cowboy in a Stetson, and leaves, closing the door behind him.

You don’t sleep, waiting for hungry dogs or Joel’s men to find you trussed up.

When he comes back in the morning, you’re a wreck. You survived the fucking apocalypse, but none of it could have prepared you for this. You’re blinking in and out of consciousness.

There’s nothing but the pain. You’re sure you would have cried or thrown up, but you’re so dehydrated now that you can’t even spare a tear. It’s not lost on you that you got into this situation by wasting water.

“Chilly in here,” he says by way of greeting, tugging the bandana off you.

You keep your eyes closed. Imagining his smug smirk is bad enough; you don’t need to see him see you like this.

“You shoulda worn a jacket, sweetheart.”

“Did,” you croak, and wish you hadn’t fallen for his bait.

“Ah, someone took it from ya? Must have been a nice one.”

It was. It was patched up and ugly, but so was everything in this world. And it was warm. Heavy denim with quilted down lining. The last thing you’d ever take from your father, you thought.

He walks around you. You’d stiffen if you could, but you’ve long been stuck, muscles given out.

“Alright, let’s get ya down.”

At least the dehydration saves you from the whimper you almost let out. But it’s silent, and if Joel notices anything, he doesn’t react.

He walks back over to the door and presses the button. “S’gonna hurt like a bitch,” he warns before the door jerks backward, click click clicking as it lowers. It’s slow, but when your legs touch the ground, you may as well have plummeted.

You scream, wrenching it from your haggard throat, hands balled into fists behind your back. When you’re fully on the ground, you collapse against the door, only sparing a wince when your head bounces against the jutting metal seam between panels.

“Deep breaths. You’ll be fine.” He crouches down in front of you, same ratty denim shirt and jeans, same scuffed up boots. “You ready to behave?”

You nod, barely moving, but he gets the message.

“Y’look thirsty.”

You crack your eyes open to peek at him but can’t. They roll back into your head, lids fluttering.

You’re vaguely aware that he leaves and comes back but have no idea how much time passes. He crouches back down in front of you, and you hear the crinkle of a decade-old plastic bottle.

“If I give you this, are you going to spit it at me again?”

“No,” you whisper.

“You gonna ask nicely?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, but your brain is mostly static, so you give up without much of a fuss. “Please.”

He hums his approval and brings the bottle to your lips. He only lets you take tiny sips, infinitesimal in the arid expanse of your mouth. He pulls it away far too soon, and a soft sob leaks from you in its absence.

“You can have more later. Don’t need you gettin’ sick all over my garage.”

He leaves.

When he comes back late into the evening, you’re asleep, but you startle awake when he turns the light on.

Your wide eyes follow him as he moves about the garage. When he finally approaches you, it’s to offer more water. You accept it immediately, opening your mouth for the bottle before it even reaches you.

“Learned your lesson, huh? Good girl.”

It’s accompanied by a sneer, but that doesn’t stop the way your pussy clenches for a minute. Given that you’re still fully clothed, he remains blessedly unaware.

“Can you just, like, shoot me now or whatever,” you mumble. You know you’re not leaving that garage. You’ve seen where he keeps the top supplies. You know which house this is—or at least, the numbers on the house across the street.

“Nah,” Joel says as if you’re discussing what to eat for dinner. He sits down in front of you, knees bent up, leaning on them with the arm holding the water bottle. “You’re gonna help me first.”

“Why would I help you if you’re going to kill me?”

“Because I’ll make it quick for ya.”

You think you might throw up the water.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he gestures at you with his loose hand, now grasping a closed switchblade. “You know how this goes. Seen your pops do it plenty, right?”

You nod.

“I don’t think you’re gonna make me, though,” Joel muses, and scratches his chin with the outside of the blade.

“I was running,” you blurt. “If I tell you everything, I swear, he’ll never know, I just want to—”

“‘Fraid not,” he says, shaking his head. “Nothin’ personal, sweetheart, just can’t trust ya.”

The way you’re staring at him with your pretty eyes, glistening with fear, makes him scowl harder. He flicks the blade open and watches as a tear escapes before you close your eyes.

“Promise?” you whisper.

“Promise what?”

“Promise you’ll make it quick, if I tell you everything.” You’re shaking, and realize you’re probably about to have another panic attack as your breathing grows shallow.

“Yeah, I promise,” he says. He stands up and watches you, the way you’re clenching your hands into fists and trying to breathe out of your mouth.

“Jesus. It’s not gonna happen right now, calm down.”

Before he leaves, he gives you more water.

You’re awake when he comes back the next morning. He sits in front of you, legs crossed, and sets a cloth full of dried meat between you, and another bottle of water.

He picks up a thick strip. It doesn’t look like the shit they used to sell at grocery stores. It looks like they’ve salted and dried their own fucking jerky.

You stare as he rips off a piece and eats it.

“What? Y’ain’t got pigs?”

You shake your head.

“Jesus,” he sighs. “Is there even anything to take, or am I wasting my fucking time?”

“Lots of guns,” you shrug. “Some food. Not like you’ve got.”

Guns were more than enough of a reason, and you both knew it. He ripped another piece off and held it to your lips.

You didn’t hesitate.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he says while you chew. “I’m going to ask you a question. If I believe your answer, you can have somethin' to eat or drink. If I don’t believe you, that’s when things get tricky.” He opens the switchblade and sets it next to the water.

It takes hours, but true to your word, you tell him everything. The layout of the old campground your father took command over. Patrol schedules. Planned raids. Locations of guns, food, medicine, everything.

By the end of it, you’d had two sticks of the jerky and the whole bottle of water. You look more alive than you have in days, given that you’d been thoroughly lost for two before stumbling across his men on patrol.

“Why’d you feed me?” you ask when he stands to leave. “Aren’t you about to kill me?”

“No,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Gotta see if your information is good. Probably won’t even make a move for a week or so.”

You tense. “You promised. You promised you’d make it quick.”

“I promised I’d make it quick when I kill ya. If you told me everything. Can’t prove you did until it’s done.”

He doesn’t know what he expected you to do, but screaming was not it. It’s a wounded, rageful thing. He hates it. He stomps back over and covers your mouth, blade in hand. It presses against your cheek, and you hiss.

He pulls his hand away and watches the blood drip down your cheek. You don’t scream again, but there’s something in your eyes when you stare him down.

“Coward,” you whisper.

His hand wraps around your throat, pushing you against the garage door. He doesn’t remember kneeling down close to you, but that’s where he finds himself as he squeezes, bringing the knife up above his hand.

You aren’t struggling, yet, His grip isn’t that tight. Some air still leaks, and you laugh. “C’mon,” you taunt.

He lets go. You slump down a little, chest heaving. There’s blood dripping down from the small nick in your neck to your cleavage.

You watch him watch it. “Can you at least clean that up if you’re going to leave me here?”

He doesn’t know what possesses him. It has to be the unhinged look in your eyes, spreading to him like poison. He grabs your jaw in the hand with the blade and pushes your head to the side so he can lean down and lick the blood off your breast. You moan.

He spits it to the side, and turns your head back to look at him. Your lips are parted, pupils blown. “Fuckin’ hell,” he growls, leaning back, putting distance between him and your tits.

“C’mon,” you repeat, but this time, it’s heady.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” But he doesn’t wait for you to answer. He grabs your jaw again and kisses you. It’s not kind or soft. It’s all teeth and snarls and the knife against your cheek. But you kiss him back, because it pleases the ravaging wildfire of rage that lives in your chest. Fuels it.

He pulls back. “Shit," he mutters.

“You gonna fuck me or what?”

He lets go. Stands up. You think maybe he’s going to get his cock out, but he stalks over to the door. “Or what.”

He slams the door so he doesn’t have to hear you howl in fury after him, spitting insults.

He doesn’t come back the next day.

By the second morning, you’re starting to panic. You’re so thirsty. The last bottle had a few dregs in it, just a sip, but it's just out of reach. The only light you have is when it creeps in from the little gap between the garage door and the uneven concrete.

When he comes that evening, he’s ditched the denim. He’s got tight dark pants and a gray t-shirt on. You don’t look at him directly as he gives you water and more of the salty jerky.

He crouches down in front of you again. You’re getting tired of it. Of his stupid pretty face and this stupid garage. Your arms are numb, and the pounding in your head hasn’t gone away since the first day. You don’t even know how long you’ve been here anymore.

“Why’d you ask me to fuck you?" It’s less of a question than a statement, but you know he expects an answer.

“Dunno. Thought maybe you would.”

“I’m going to kill you. Your pussy ain’t going to change that.”

“Didn’t expect it to.”

“What, you a virgin or something? You trying to get fucked before you die?”

“Or something, yeah,” you mutter.

“Shit.” He can’t believe he’s considering this. It feels like crossing one of the few lines he hasn’t crossed.

It’s not lost on you. “Are you having a fuckin' moral dilemma about this? You’re gonna gut me, and you’re trying to figure out if it’d be fucked up to have sex with me?”

“Not gonna gut ya,” he says. “Said I’d make it quick, didn’t I?”

“Oh my god. That was so not the point.”

“Shut up. Look at me.”

You do. He’s holding the blade again. “I verified your information yesterday. We’re going to make our move tomorrow. I’ll be back by sundown. You still want this?”

It feels like he dumped the water on you again. You shiver. So that’s it. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be gone.

“Yes.”

“Fine. But we’re doin’ this my way.” He walks away, and you think he’s going back inside until he stops and presses the button.

You’re shocked enough that all you do is gasp when the door lifts, pulling you into the air. He stalks back over to you and holds the blade up. “Hold still.”

You’re hanging in the fucking air. What does he think you’re going to do? Fly away? But you hold your breath anyway while he slides the knife between your skin and clothes. When you’re bare to him, he drops the knife and grabs your waist.

“You done anything? Anyone ever make you come?”

You shake your head and murmur, “No, no one.”

When you look up at him, you’re surprised to see something almost soft behind his eyes. You glare. “What, is it going to make you feel less guilty if I have an orgasm?”

“What do I got to feel guilty for? You fuckin’ begged for it.”

“Then fuckin’ fuck me already,” you snap. Your arms hurt again. You want to fuck him, you want to land your fists against his stupid face, you want to not fucking die tomorrow.

But you can only have one of those things, so. “Please,” you say, and sigh.

He cups your breasts, stroking thumbs over your nipples. He leans over and licks, and you moan again, soft this time.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t gotta do that. Just fuck me.”

“Ain’t doin’ it for you,” he lies.

You don’t protest again, not after he takes a nipple in his mouth and sucks. He brings a hand to your cunt and thumbs your clit, sliding two fingers down to start working you open for him. He eases the first one in through your slick, and you whine.

“I’m not gonna be nice,” he says, panting a little. “It’s going to hurt.”

“Yeah,” you agree, watching as he stretches you open. Your legs are held so wide they ache, but it doesn’t stop your eyes from rolling back when he picks up speed.

He holds you tight when you come so your arms don’t jerk too hard. It’d be a shitty end to a shitty life, you think, to wait all day with dislocated shoulders for him to come home and slit your throat.

Finally, he pulls his cock out. A man of his word, he doesn’t go nice or slow. It does hurt. His cock is thick and long, and he makes it fit even as your body tries to reject him. He hooks his hands under your thighs, forcing you to put some of your body weight on him as he fucks up into you.

It takes the pressure off your arms, and you suspect maybe he's strong enough to fuck like this without the help from the ropes.

The burn is exactly what you wanted. It stings, and you cry, silent but for a few whimpers. He pulls another orgasm out of you with his clever fingers on your clit.

When he comes, he pulls you to him and sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. You wail, but you also come again as he fills you.

You expect him to leave you there, dangling and dripping his spend. But when he lets go, it’s just to lower you back to the ground.

He tucks his soft cock away and zips up, staring down at you. You lay against the door, trying to catch your breath.

“What’d you mean by ‘or something’?” he says, surprising himself.

“S’nothin,” you sigh.

He sits down, offers you water. You drink and watch him, tense and untrusting.

“Was that the first time you’ve been fucked?”

“First time I ever wanted it,” you say.

His jaw ticks. “Answer one more question for me, ‘bout your father’s camp.” He waits until you meet his eyes. “If you’re strugglin’ for food, how’s he keeping all them happy?”

You flinch and look away.

He doesn’t need another answer.

You don’t expect to see him in the morning, so you’re startled when the door opens. He throws something on the floor, but you don’t have time to look before he’s crouched over you, knife in hand.

You had promised yourself you’d be brave and quiet when he came for you. But you thought you’d have time to prepare yourself, so when he brings it toward you, you flinch back and cry out. “Hold still,” he snaps. He doesn’t have time to wait for you to cooperate, so he holds your shoulder with one hand and slices through the rope with the other.

When he’s done, he jabs the knife in the direction of the pile of fabric by your foot. “Get up. Get dressed.”

You can’t stand. He huffs and pockets the knife, pulling you up. Your limbs barely move from the way they’ve been stuck, splotchy and limp from poor circulation. He helps you tug the flannel on and step into what must be a pair of his boxers.

He looks you over. “S’all I got.”

“Okay,” you say. You’re so confused. Between the pain, the hunger, the dehydration, and the fear, it’s a wonder you can string together a single thought.

“Let’s go,” he snaps as he heads for the door, like you were supposed to know already. When you get into the house, he grabs one arm and pushes you ahead of him, through a kitchen and living room and out another door.

Most of his men are in two vans, but Joel shoves you into a pickup truck. He buckles you in and waves a finger in your face. “You try anything, and it’ll take you days to bleed out.”

You just nod. You’re thinking now that he probably doesn’t want to kill you in his house. Blood all over the stockroom would be a pain in the ass.

At least you got to see sunshine again.

It’s not a long drive, but you keep your eyes closed. The autumn sun is weak, but you think you might cry as it brushes your skin.

Joel doesn’t say a word.

You don’t open your eyes until he parks. He hops out and comes to pull you out the other side, but when you see where you are, you panic and try to push him away.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snaps. “Get out of the fucking truck.”

God. Everything you’d heard about him is true. Was he really this cruel? Monstrous enough to drag you back, to die here when you’d finally escaped?

Or—has he struck a deal? Is he going to give you back to your father?

You can’t breathe.

Joel crowds you against the truck, hands on your shoulders, and shakes you a little. “Snap out of it, I ain’t got time for this. Stick with me and keep your mouth shut.”

For a moment, neither of you move. You get control of your breathing and realize he hasn’t restrained you. He didn’t give you shoes, but you still know this land far better than he does. You told him all your father’s secrets, but not yours.

“Don’t,” he says. It’s the softest he’s spoken to you yet.

And, god help you, you nod.

Two of Joel’s men are struggling to hold your father when Joel drags you into the living room of the main cabin. He’s holding your wrists behind your back, his gun pressed into your side.

“Oh, thank god, honey, you’re okay,” your father says, but his face falls when he sees the gun. “C’mon, Miller, let her go. She’s not a part of this.”

“She is now,” Joel says. “Found her on my land. Ain’t that right?”

You want to close your eyes, want to ignore your part in this, want him to just fucking shoot already, but you can’t look away from your father’s face.

“I swear to god, Miller, if you laid a hand on her—”

“Like your men did?” He waits and doesn’t receive a response. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“You know how it is,” your father says. He can’t read Joel, never could. “Everyone’s gotta contribute somehow. Keep morale up,” he plows forward, oblivious to the dangerous way Joel’s eyes have darkened. “Look, I can look past it. Whatever you did, she probably had it coming, for trespassing. We can call it even.”

Joel’s slow smirk is feral. He nods. For a moment, your father breathes with relief. But Joel isn’t looking at him.

His men move quick, and your father is on his knees in just seconds. They struggle to hold him down with hands on his shoulders, but he stops fighting when Joel lifts the gun away from you.

He doesn’t aim it at your father, who has to watch as Joel flips the gun in his hand and offers you the grip. He didn’t even notice that Joel had let you go.

You don’t say anything. You look at Joel for a moment, and your father watches you slowly move to take the handgun. He has the nerve to look relieved again, until you stop, holding it in both hands in front of you, looking at it.

“What are you doing? Shoot him!” your father says.

You look up at your father, grimacing against the bile rising in your throat.

You look at Joel again, gun heavy. You wonder what would happen if you let it drag down, out of your fingers, to the knotty pine panels that cover every surface. You wonder what would happen if you clasped your fingers around the weight of it and raised your arm to the left.

Joel’s men watch him, unsure. He holds up a hand and waits, watching the glow from the hearth dance across your face.

“Shoot them, you stupid girl, and get me out of here.”

Joel steps closer, puts his hands on your waist, and leans in. “Up to you, darlin’,” his hot breath against your ear.

You pull the trigger.

[tomkaulitzssgirl]

could u pls do enemies to lovers w tom that leads to sex? btw i adore ur writing its sooo good !!

I Was Scared | Tom Kaulitz

a normal saturday night. you were getting ready to go to your friend crystal’s house. you decided to wear a white t-shirt and a jeans skirt.

there would also been other people of your group of friends, even though not everyone. you guys were around ten people, which was a lot sometimes.

you couldn’t really always agree to do something because of all the different opinions, but somehow you made it work.

tonight besides you and crystal, your other friends, bill, gustav, georg and unfortunately for you, bill’s twin brother tom would come.

unfortunately because you and tom didn’t really have a good relationship and it was all his fault. at first when you guys met, he didn’t really acknowledge you, he talked to everyone but you.

after sometime, he started picking on you, making fun of little things and always being mean to you.

you didn’t know why, you always had been gentle and nice, even when he was a dick, because you couldn’t really be rude to people.

but you had your moments where you lost it and talked back to him. he knew you didn’t like him at all.

just the thought of being in the same room as him made you roll your eyes.

he was so different from bill, he was the sweetest person ever and you guys actually had a really good bond. tom made fun of you when he heard you guys talk about things you had in common and luckily bill knew how to clap back.

bill had noticed how tom was acting towards you, he even tried to talk about it to him but tom ignored him.

sometimes you wished you could’ve been friends since you were always together, but the boy seemed to hate you.

around nine pm, you took your car keys and drove over your friends’s house. she welcomed you with an hug before making you come in.

the others were already there, all sitting down on the couch.

“we were waiting for you to start the movie.” georg sang out with a big smile. you chuckled giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“sorry for being late, the traffic is horrible.” you noticed that the only seat available was the one next to tom and you slapped yourself mentally.

you awkwardly sat down, noticing he was taking a lot of space since his leges were spread open and he was slouched down. you were between him and the couch’s end.

he didn’t even look at you, nor did he say hi. he was simply listening to the others making conversations.

you preferred it that way, it was better if he stayed quiet.

“so, what are we gonna watch?” crystal asked as she turned on the tv, going on netflix.

“oh oh, there is a new movie out! it’s called to all boys i’ve loved before, we should totally watc-“ you were about to finish your sentence but a scoff coming from tom cut you off.

“what?” you turned to him, your smile disappearing.

“what kind of shit movie is that?” he rhetorically asked, looking at you. you realised how close you were in that moment.

“you never watched it, how can you know if it’s bad?” you squinted your eyes at him, shaking your head.

“it’s recommended by you so i guess it’s pretty shitty.” tom shrugged as if he had just stated a fact.

“tom. stop.” bill called him out, glaring at him from the other couch.

“mind your business.” tom said before sighing and getting up, “i’m gonna take a beer.”

he walked to the kitchen nonchalantly and you followed him with your eyes. you felt anger but also sadness inside. why did he have to be so cruel to you?

the others decided to put it on anyway, maybe even to make you a little bit happier after what tom had said. they could see it had made you upset.

you fidgeted with your bracelet as you watched the tv, without really paying attention to the movie.

tom came back some minutes later with a bowl of popcorn and a beer. he put the bowl at the center of the coffee table infront of us before grabbing a bunch and stuffing his mouth.

you tried to ignore the smacking sound but it was too much. he kept chewing those popcorns almost with his mouth open.

“could you stop chewing so loud?” you said almost in a whisper since you didn’t want to disturb the others.

“could you stop being a pain in the ass?” he spat back without even turning to look at you, putting more popcorns in his mouth.

you exhaled heavily, making him chuckle. he enjoyed this, he enjoyed making you feel down.

deciding to ignore him, you went back to watch the movie that you so wanted to see, before a loud obnoxious burp interrupted the silence in the room.

everyone turned around to look at tom.

“ew, you’re disgusting.” you commented making a nauseous face.

“yeah, you’re a pig tom.” georg agreed shaking his head.

“oh fuck off.” he rolled his eyes continuing to drink his beer, “can we fucking change this movie? it’s boring.”

“it’s boring because you aren’t paying attention to it.” you didn’t know why you kept engaging with him, he was too focused on being right than accepting what you said.

“no, it’s boring because it’s a stupid ass movie that only losers like you like.” this time it was enough.

“why are you always so mean to me?” you finally spat out, your whole body turned to his side, “i’ve never done anything to you except being a good person even when you treated me like shit! you didn’t give me a chance since day one, tom. i’m sick of your bullshit. next time don’t call me to hang out it’s he’s here too.” you concluded talking to everyone before getting up and running to the bathroom upstairs.

you shocked everyone since you had never had an outburst like that. you never got angry.

“tom, you’re a fucking jerk.” bill shook his head, letting out an heavy sight.

“yeah, why do you always treat her that way?” crystal asked stopping the movie.

tom stayed quiet, observing the aim of his hoodie that had become interesting in that moment.

“yeah, it’s not like she has ever done something to you so why do you act-“

“it’s because i like her, okay?!” tom finally blurted out almost yelling.

a general “what?” echoed in the living room. they were shocked, tom wasn’t someone that admitted his feelings for someone or that actually liked someone seriously. he only wanted physics stuff.

“yeah i said it. i like her almost since the day i met her but i don’t want to like her.” he explained almost embarrassed.

“so you treat her like shit for keeping her away from you?” georg asked wrinkling his eyebrows, “what kind of fucking cliché is it?”

“i know. it’s stupid but if i keep her distant, this feelings will go away. everything will go back to normal.” tom said, lighting up a cigarette.

“tom, you should go talk to her. tell her the truth. you’d rather lose her than be in a relationship? don’t be ridiculous.” bill always tried to make his brother think, especially in this type of situations. he was the romantic and lover one, never had just one night stands like his brother.

tom’s irritation flared but he got up from the couch, knowing bill was right. he wouldn’t admit that to him though.

he walked upstairs, where the bathroom was, as he kept smoking his cigarette. knocking on the door, only silence could be heard.

“y/n?”

“go away.” you immediately answered as soon as you heard his voice.

“let me come in.” he leaned with his shoulder against the wall and looked at the floor.

“are you dumb? go away.” tom could hear your broken voice and that made his body fill with guilt.

“i need to talk to you, it’s important.”

you didn’t answer, but after a couple of seconds the door opened. tom entered slowly and you closed the door behind you.

you stared at tom with your arms folded against your chest, an eyebrow raised. “so? and also, you know i hate smoke.”

tom noticed your puffy and red eyes.

“were you crying?” he asked throwing the cigarette away down the wc.

“no, my eyes happen to be swollen.” you answered sarcastically before sitting down on the floor.

tom played with his lip piercing, unsure of what to do next, deciding to sit down next to you.

“what do you want tom? if you’re here to bother me some more just go-“

“i’m not. i’m here to say sorry.” his words ran from his mouth and he almost felt ashamed, he had never say sorry, not directly at least.

“i’m sorry, because i was selfish. i didn’t think of how everything would make you feel, i just thought about protecting myself.” he looked at you with truthful eyes.

“from what?” you tilted your head to the side as you grew confused.

tom let out a shaky breath. now or never.

“from loving you.”

a moment of silence filled the bathroom, as you looked at him, finding that unbelievable. how could he love you and treat you like that at the same time?

“w-what…how? what?” you didn’t even know what to say. your mind was full of questions that wouldn’t come out.

“you heard me. i love you, i was treating you like shit so it would go away but it fucking didn’t and it just made you hate me. sorry.” there it was. his full explanation. he had said it and couldn’t go back in time.

“is this another prank of yours? because if it is it, isn’t funny tom.”

he didn’t say anything, he just placed his hand on your cheek and crashed his lips against yours. your eyes widened.

tom asked for entrance with his tongue and slowly you let him in, wrapping your arms around his neck.

when you broke away, you kept sharing small pecks as your eyes met, a small smile on both of your lips.

you both didn’t know what to say next, it was like the kiss you shared had said it all.

“you’re such a dick.” you commented with a small laugh, shaking your head as you looked down. your bodies were now closer than ever, his hands on your hips.

he smirked knowing what that meant, it was done, you were finally his. his lips went to your neck, leaving small wet pecks on your skin.

you were covered in goosebumps, giving him more access to kiss you. “t-tom…”

he shushed you, getting you to lay down on the floor as he got on top of you, “i wanna make you feel good. can i? do you want to?”

you waited before nodding, deciding that you wanted to live that moment fully.

“t-tom but i-i never…” you were shy to say that you had never had sex before. he was about to be your first.

he seemed to understand what you wanted to say without you even saying it, and he nodded gently touching your skin under your shirt. “it’s okay, i’ll be gentle.”

he removed your shirt, leaving you in your black bra. he stared at your covered beasts, leaning down to kiss your chest.

his hands traveled to the strips of your bra, gently sliding them down. you knew where he was getting at so you leaned up a bit, making it easy for him to remove it completely.

your back touched the cold floor and your arms tried to cover yourself, but he blocked you, placing your arms above your head. “you’re beautiful, don’t be embarrassed.”

his sweet words encouraged you to feel more confident, finding the strength to kiss him hungrily.

tom hummed into the kiss, one hand keeping him up for balance as the other fidgeted with his belt. you decided to help him remove it, before he took off his pants and shirt completely.

you stared at his body almost drooling. he was so hot, almost like he was created by greek gods, with his defined muscles and abs.

tom smirked noticing you staring at him while gulping down, before sliding down your skirt and throwing it somewhere.

you wrapped your legs around his waist as he lowered his boxers, revealing his hard member. you couldn’t believe your eyes.

“will that fit in?” you couldn’t comprehend how something that big could go in you.

tom laughed, “yes, cause you’ll take it like a good girl, right?”

you bit down your lip, nodding at his words, his hand coking closer to your core. he began rubbing your clit, making you gasp. you never felt something like this before.

“does that feel good?” tom asked in your ear, his hot breath on your neck.

“y-yes, o-oh my god.” you stuttered as you moaned, his hands working magic on you. suddenly, he inserted a finger in your entrance.

“slow!” you almost screamed as you felt like it feared you apart.

“sorry baby. fuck, you’re so wet.” he kissed your neck, going slower. as you get used to the feeling, he began going in and out of you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“t-tom, i want you. please…” you begged arching your back. he stroked himself, nodding frantically.

“you asked so nicely baby, you’re such a good girl for me huh?” he slowly came closer to your entrance with his tip.

“y-yes, just for you…” your mouth formed like a ‘o’ shape as he teased you, going up and down with his member.

“ready?” he asked looking deeply into your eyes.

you nodded needing him more than ever. you never craved someone’s body this way.

tom went gently in you, groaning as he felt you around him. “shit, you’re tight. it feels so good.”

you squeezed your eyes shut at the pain, feeling it ten times worse than you did with his finger.

he was still, his hands at the sides of your head, looking down at your expressions that turned him on even more. “tell me when i can move.”

your arms found their way around his neck, “y-you can now.”

tom nodded, starting to go slowly in and out of your feminine part. your whimpers, shy moans drove him crazy, he just wanted to fuck you into oblivion but he knew he had to wait for that.

his gaze burned on your skin, examining your unholy expressions.

“g-go faster, please!” you moaned loudly, your hands gripped his dreads.

his pace quickened, finding easily your sweet spot, making you a mess beneath him. you were heaving repeatedly, mumbling disconnected words, his name a mantra.

“you feel so fucking good baby, you like it huh? you’re so lucky. oh shit.” he kept sending you over the edge with his dirty talk, throwing his head back.

“kiss me.” you breathed out, his hands gripping your thighs. he didn’t waste no time, kissing you sloppily.

you kept moaning against his lips, his thrusting becoming harder. the sounds of your skin clapping, your whimpers and his groans were the only thing that could be heard.

“shit i’m about to cum. are you close, baby girl?” tom said placing his forehead against yours.

you felt an unusual heat on your lower stomach and you furrowed your eyebrows. “y-yeah but…”

“no, let go baby. you need to let it go.” he shook his head knowing what we’re you about to say. maybe it was because was your first time but you kept holding back.

tom noticed it so he took the matter into his hands, pressing one of them on your lower body.

your eyes widened as your orgasm took over, sending shivers down your spine. tom followed right after you, finishing with a grunt.

he fell on top of you, breathless. your legs trembled as you were still riding your climax.

he looked up at you before raising his head and kissing your lips. “you did so good.”

a smile formed on your face, blushing hard at his words. you couldn’t believe you had sex with tom, someone you thought hated you.

“y/n, wanna be my girl?”

it took a lot of courage for him to ask you that.

“of course i do.” you cupped his cheeks, pecking him on his lips.

neither of you could stop smiling, totally drunk in love.

[richeeduvie]

thank you genius anon for the roman summer house ask. but also richee can you elaborate on this time that roman came out from under the table while drunk… curious to know if he did that for the reason I think he did

"That tickles. Jesus fuck-!"

"I'm not even licking anythi-"

Roman's not. He just finds the inside of your thighs quite comfortable. And your skin smells good. Like really good, it's whatever body wash you're using.

Sometimes, it doesn't feel that taboo to want to peel bits of you off. If he could put you back together without any pain, he would.

"Someone's coming. Just shh."

He rolls his eyes, but his heart feels like the way his mouth purses when he hears it's Kendall.

Roman understands his jealousy. Not very fucking well, but he knows that it's just not right whenever you talk to people. It doesn't even have to be other boys that Roman's sure they want you naked and nippled and for them, it's just...anyone. It's Kendall, but Kendall's a fucking freak. It's Shiv and every adult adult who takes time away from him. It's school and it's movies that distract you.

Maybe it's fucking pathetic? Roman doesn't it. It's not right because it makes him feel sick and small.

And Kendall just keeps yapping. You're too nice to everyone, like it's your job. It's especially peevy when you make it so Kendall's comfortable.

You won't admit it - Kendall won't even admit it, but the brotherly fucker wants you so badly. It's gross. And you should pretty much have the understanding that you don't do well with other people. Just him, even when he's mean. Sorry.

"So, I was just thinking about...you ever hear of go-karting?"

"Jesus fuck."

Roman cringes and lazily comes up from your legs. Not air, cause that would mean he wouldn't be taking in your mouth whole.

"...Roman-"

"You taste like cake. Yum. Hi, Ken." He furrows his brows, looking down. "Close your legs, you don't want to look slutty in front of my brother."

And Roman tries not to wear a stupid-born smile when Kendall just stares, all the confidence and shitty banter gone now that he's here. And his mouth was just on your crotch. That doesn't need to be said between the three of you.

"Do you - do you guys do that al-all the time? What the fuck? That's not cool, dude."

"Why are you pushing this on me? What if she wanted me down in the trenches."

"...Are you-" You hiccup. Roman fixes your hair. "Is my vagina the trench?"

"It's like - take it as a fucking compliment. Wet, narrow....I'm the only one up in there, right?"

"Don't fucking...Roman. Both of you, what if Dad saw?"

"He wouldn't have?"

Roman scratches behind his ear. He can see a purposeful, slight shake of his brother's body.

"What? Cause you wouldn't have made the fucking effort to come up?"

"Why does it bother you so much? It would've only bothered Dad cause it's just more proof that I am his disappointment baby. A vat of unprofessionalism."

Roman knows why Kendall looks so strangled by the way he came up from under the table, why he still looks tense as he throws his legs over you. You look heated. It makes Roman smile.

He knows why even if Kendall never admits it. Maybe he'll get over you like a normal fucking person. But Roman's selfish as much as he is someone that loves his brother. He deserves a bit of tense nerves, his own amount of jealousy because he's not even suppose to be jealous in the first place.

Roman burps and presses a thumb into your hand.

"Go away, Kendall. You have Stewy cock to make you feel better. About what? I don't think either of us have a clue."

He drags out the word clue and stares into your skin, a low head looking down.

Don't give her that fucking look, bitch.

He looks at your guilted face like you've vomited on his shoe.

"Don't tell me you actually feel embarrassed and bad about it."

"You should've waited."

"Oowee, let's spare Ken's feelings. What feelings am I sparing by making the effort to not remind him that I'm inside you at all times?"

When you don't respond, the casual and sickly humor turns red in Roman. He stares.

"What feelings?"

But he's weak, it never takes much and it takes nothing when he's drank a lot. Like a softy, touchy little hand holding his.

"Wanna pick a movie?"

"...It's gonna be a super dirty movie. The most visible pussy and dick you've ever witnessed."

"You had a panic attack watching the first fifteen minutes of boogie nights and we had to put on the beauty and the bea-"

Roman's heart picks up. Why would you ever bring that up?

"You didn't make that moment feel like something you were gonna fucking laugh at me for."

"I'm not laughing, I'm just saying...do you think you'd get like that if you watched us on camera?"

He blinks.

"Have you been fucking recording us?"

"No! I was just wondering."

"You're not good at that. Fucking Jesus."

"Where are you going?"

Back down. Where it's easier to breathe.

[reachexceedinggrasp]

I have a feeling you might relate to this or you might have even related this on your blog already, but I was just thinking of that Ghoul quotation water water everywhere and not a drop to drink

I think probably my favourite, maybe ever, quiet point of characterisation in a sort of villainous or Beast love interest is his or her having a poet's soul... whether that is conscious or unconscious romantic meditation. It's like Kylo musing to Rey when he says 'You have that look in your eyes. From the forest. When you called me a monster' I love that sort of wistful observation, especially because it evokes such potent imagery ('when we fought together in the forest and then you marked yourself on my face'). Or more literally something like Ghoul citing a line of literature, even when none around except for Lucy would know what he's referencing, it's for his own arrestment and amusement, this is how he sees/interacts with the world

I guess in that way, it reveals something new about their perspective on the world, even when they're somebody seemingly cut off from it - monstrous, othered, repellent, ugly - when they're able to articulate a certain beauty which other characters may not remark upon. It's sort of covetous in that sense, but I think it also sort of helps explain what might interest them about a Beauty, after all, there's something they long for and value (spiritual, aesthetic, existential beauty).

I thought you might be able to relate 🥰

Oh, totally. And with Cooper and Ben, specifically, which is a parallel I hadn't actually noticed until you've just pointed it out, we're being shown their sensitivity as characters. Not in the sense of being considerate, but that they're aware and alert to beauty and meaning in the world despite currently occupying a narrative role which might make us think they're simply destructive or nihilistic figures. And despite the cynicism they're both ostensibly espousing.

Cooper quotes or alludes to literature practically constantly relative to how little he speaks, always knowing people almost certainly won't understand him, and that's especially fascinating because he didn't make those kinds of references in the flashbacks. We could take this in a whole direction about how he created the Ghoul as a character to shield himself from the things he had to do to survive and is living within a meta-narrative deconstructing the reactionary anti-hero who overtook the white hat sheriff he used to play in his movies. The anti-hero he never wanted to be. He makes allusions because his life has become a story he's telling himself to stay sane. He's his own wry Dickensian narrator making asides to an imagined audience about dramatic irony and social commentary.

And an important part of his presentation to others before the war was painting himself as not sophisticated. Just a cowboy and then just a guy who plays a cowboy in the movies. He wants nothing to do with politics either in an interpersonal or broader sense, and disclaims any pretensions to being savvy despite being in a theoretically powerful position as a rich, well-connected major film star. I think he was genuinely naive, but I also think he often played dumb to avoid social conflict. He was complacent and his image helped him remain complacent. Obviously he was very willing to be confrontational when he saw wrong or injustice right in front of him (he goes after Bud Askins directly to his face about marines getting killed by shitty equipment, he challenges Moldaver when she calls him out), but pre-bombs he mostly uses his empathic perceptiveness and charisma to keep everyone around him happy.

In the wasteland we often see him doing the opposite and deliberately riling people up in order to gather information and assess or eliminate them as threats, but he's also only gotten better at disarming people when he wants to. As a handsome charming film star he pretended not to know anything, as a scary intimidating monster he pretends he knows everything.

What I'm wondering about as far as all this goes is whether Cooper always had a secret nerdy side and read all the classics as a teenager or perhaps while waiting between shots when he was working as a stuntman, or whether he wanted to fit in when he started to make it in Hollywood so tried to become cultured before realising that wasn't what anyone wanted from him. Or if he just spent 200 years alone and read anything he could find as a way to cling to his humanity. We know he was at least a bit intellectually curious before the war, because of his reading and retaining some article about studies on torture.

But YES, him quoting poetry and being so interested and insightful about Lucy, specifically is a huge part of how he's framed as a romantic figure. And he's already by far the most romantic figure in the show. If it were solely about his tragedy, you'd think they would emphasise the contrast between his pre-fallen and post-fallen state by stripping him of his heroic trappings, but they don't. He's actually more romantic post-'curse'.

It also gets me because he's an extremely smart, socially adept person who doesn't let others see him for who he really is both consciously and unconsciously on multiple levels and that layers of identity shit is my crack. He was a profoundly honest man who thought he was simple, but actually he was a glorious maze of contradiction and complexity waiting to happen who has now come into his own as a master manipulator.

[7ndipity]

On your period

Hoseok x Reader

Summary: Hobi tries to comfort and care for you during your time of the month.

Warnings: insecurities, menstruation, mention of bad past relationship

A/N: Thank you for the request! It came at ironic timing for me, so if it's a little wonky, I'm sorry, just know that I was fighting major brain fog for this.

Masterlist

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When you'd texted Hobi and told him that you weren't feeling well and couldn't go out that evening, you had thought that would be the end of it, plain and simple.

In truth, you had started your period and were feeling pretty shitty, but you didn't want to tell him that, fearing that he would turn squeamish the way your ex always had when the subject came up.

What you hadn't considered was the fact that Hobi was, well, Hobi, which meant that he was immediately calling you trying to find out exactly what was wrong.

"Baby? Are you okay? What are your symptoms? Do you have a fever? What about-"

Although you knew he meant well, his flurry of questions was beginning to make you budding headache even worse.

"Hobi!" You finally interjected, making him fall silent. "I'm fine, I'm just-" You took a breath, "I'm on my period, but it's nothing you have to worry about, so you can just-"

"Wait? That's what's wrong?" He said, relieved. "Why didn't you just say that?"

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable." You said quietly.

"Why would I be uncomfortable?" He asked, confused.

"I-, I mean, E/n always was." You mumbled, a sudden wave of understanding hitting him at your words.

He knew from what little you had shared with him about your past relationship that it hadn't been the best, to say the least, but the idea that they had made you feel so uncomfortable about something so normal with your own body was heartbreaking for him. He wasn't a particularly aggressive person, but in this moment, given the chance, he would've gladly taken a swing at them for the shit they'd put you through.

"They were an idiot." He said firmly, catching you off guard with his sudden change of tone. "You have nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, you hear me?"

You started to nod, before remembering he couldn't see you and muttered a small "yes."

He wasn't satisfied though. "I'm coming over."

"What? Why?"

"To take care of you!" He insisted.

"You don't have to do-"

"I know, but I want to."

Which was why he was now standing on your doorstep with multiple shopping bags and reassuring smile on his face.

"You said you didn't feel like going out, so I thought we could have a night in." He said as he entered the apartment and began to unpack his purchases, which seemed to mainly be your favorite snacks and candy.

"You didn't have to do that." You said again.

"I wanted to." He said, catching your chin gently in his grip so you would meet his eyes. "I mean it, I like looking after you, okay?"

"Okay." You said, letting him pull you into a hug, which you quickly melted into, immediately feeling so much better just from his presence.

"Are you okay? Are you hurting?" He asked as he pulled away, ghosting his hands over you sides, trying to find a way to ease some of your discomfort.

"I'm okay, just tired." You assured him.

"Should we take a nap then?" He asked.

"You didn't come all this way just to take a nap?" You looked at him.

"If that's what you want to do, then yes I did." He grinned down at you before poking you in the ribs teasingly.

You happily spent the evening dozing in and out with him while watching movies, feeling like maybe you'd found your home, with him.