#I took a wild ass guess here

[madpapyrus]

Papyrus!! What do you think about Mew Mew Kissy Cutie? Does Maddie watch/read it? Does she make you engage with it as well?

[cherry-pop-elf]

Cup Of Sugar

Deadpool x Reader x Wolverine

Authors Note: Since Yall finally see the beauty of Poolverine, you finally get some stupid fluff. Here ya go

Sum: You were neighbors with Blind Al, and that chaotic son of hers. Recently you’ve been hearing alot of noise, and figured you check on them both. Like a good neighbor. Seems to have been just the right time

Warnings: Fluff, canon typical violence, Logan and Wade being so gay in their own way, Blind Al being a total wing woman, dogpool aprecitation post, family fluff because god dammit Mama Blind Al and her sons boyfriend with their new dog domestic fluff is needed!

“Will you two knock it off! I don’t need another damn couch in this house-!” You would hear Al shout. Not the first time, but the noise seemed so much more wild as of recent. Like some kind of badger was joining the party. Couldn’t help it with your worry. She was blind after all. So, here you are. Knocking on her door.

“Get along-! Well, or like STOP GETTING ALONG-!” You heard her snapping, before yanking the door open. “The hell you want?” She asked, before you would clear your throat.

“Hey Miss Althea-!” The moment she heard your voice she had softened into that motherly state she always had for you. Not many people in the complex really enjoyed her company, or her son’s, but you always took the time to say hi to her. Not treat her any less inferior because of her blindness.

“Oh hey baby! Come on in, get in here-!” She just beamed, and laughed. Happy to have someone new to talk to. Can get lonely, after all. From many of your conversations with her, when helping her take the groceries to her apartment, her son Wade was often on business trips. Nice to have some company.

Inside was certainly a chaotic mess. You swore someone ran around like a Tasmanian Devil in there. Pictures asque, cushions everywhere, a couch shredded like it was thrown in a blender. You were wondering what the hell happened. Was it a break in? Had you worried sick, before a bark caught your attention.

“PUPPY-!” You couldn’t stop yourself from squealing, as you knelt to the floor. Right next to the dog in her dog bed. All snuggled with plushies of what you guessed were her favorite heros, and seeming to be the one area of the apartment that escaped this fire. Least whoever attacked the home had some kind of morals.

“That ugly thing? That’s ’Mary Puppins’ as the dynamic duo calls them. She that ugly kinda cute. She always knows when you need someone to cuddle, that’s for sure. I ain’t complaining. Nice having company.” Al would explain to you, as you were hypnotized by her cuteness. Had her cradled in your arms, and giving her all the belly scratches.

“She’s perfect.” You cooed, as you gave her fluffy head a kiss. Had her barking happily at your attention. Seemed said barking finally got the attention of the two rascals in the home. A bickering of panic French was held, before you turned your head. As to see what the French was going on.

“Hey-“ A burly man would wave, before seeming to shove the other person into a bedroom. In some kind of mad panic, as if to hide them from you. For some reason.

“Oh, hey. Uh, hi.” You would stand up, Pup in hand, as you registered what you were looking at. He wasn’t the tallest man around, and honestly? Might be even shorter than yourself. Didn’t take away the fact he was built like a truck. Somehow all tucked away behind a torn up wife beater and jeans. Looked like he had been fighting someone with a set of knives. On top of knives. With more knives.

“That’s Logan. My kids new boyfriend.” Al would brush off casually, as she would find herself towards the couch. Just to sit there, and most definitely keep an ear out for the drama to happen now.

“We aren’t….It’s complicated-“ He tried to explain, before said Wade popped his cheery ass out. Having been in such a rush to join the party, he was wearing his shirt backwards. You would argue his boxers to, but a puppy keeps anyone’s attention.

“Oh hey! Peanut, that’s our neighbor. About time you met the sweetheart. Don’t do anything Logany. Or do, kinda a freak. Just saying-“ He would nudge at the shorter man, as said man rolled his eyes.

“Hey Wade-! When did you get this little girl? And uh, the hell happened here?” You were pretty used to Wades insanity at this point, hence why he called you a freak (in that sweet way endearing way) so maybe there was an explanation on all this.

“Thats Mary Puppens. The sweetest shit stain around. We got her from uh….A cousin. Passed away. Terrible terrible. Can’t have her left alone.” Wade would explain, as Logan would walk over. Gave the pup a gentle scratch under her chin that made her shake her leg just right. She clearly loved her new parents dearly.

“And the mess here?” You would raise a brow, before Wade tugged at his collar. That’s when he noticed it was backwards, and kept himself busy with fixing it. Left Logan to have to bite the bullet.

“….Redecorating…..” Logan offered, as you just stared at the two. A brow raised, as you didn’t buy it for a single second. You weren’t stupid. You weren’t going to fall for the ‘put on a hat and jacket and suddenly you can’t make out a superhero from a crowd’ trope. Something suspicious was going on.

“Just be direct, will ya?! If anyone can be trusted it’s gonna be that there sugar.” Al would practically scold the two little dumbasses. Just like a mother would to her so , and his boyfriend, who were trying to dance around a topic.

“Are you two super humans of some kind? You don’t have to tell me more. Just….Dont wanna worry about little Pup here and Al. Ya know?” That seemed to make Logan pause. As if your kindness, and realness, was a shock to have. A welcomed one, but you’ll still get caught off guard if you ate trash and suddenly had a pallet cleanser of lime sherbet shoved in your mouth.

“Do you mean super human as super human, or super human like mutant powers, or super human like experimented on, or super human like as a-“ And Logan promptly smacked the back of Wades head. Treating him like a skipping record. Had you giggle, since now you didn’t have to worry about the violence. Able to comprehend they just don’t feel pain like others.

“Super human is all that needs to be said, bub.” Logan warned him, as he held up his fist. You thought to punch, but you swore the top of his hand was twitching. Not like a muscle spasm. Way too uniformed. As if three veins were bulging. Maybe it was better not to question it.

“Now, why are you even here?” Logan would try his blunt coldness on you, but living next to the likes of Wade doesn’t really phase you. This was a world of super heros and inhumans. Can’t scare you that easy.

“Came to check on Miss Althea. Heard a ruckus, that was louder than normal, so I came to check.” That had Logan scoff. To hear you being so ‘brave’ and coming over to the source of the noise. A admiring ‘so dumb but in a brave way’ admiring.

“He’s still grumpy from the turbulence, if you will-“ Wade would jazz hands, as if knowing things that no one else shouldn’t. He always did act like that. As if he just knew how the world worked better than others. You found it more so endearing than creepy, like others did.

“Oh! New here? Well welcome! Oh, maybe I can show you around? Wade and I know some pretty cool places. Oh! There’s a dog park that’s built for dogs who need more special care than others. We can all go there with Miss Puppins!” You were rambling like Wade, but had the clarity of Logan. A beautiful combination. One that had the two men smitten.

“Fuck yeah we can go to the dog park. Get dressed, Showman, come on-!” And Wade was running off to get changed. The typical attire of hoodie, face mask, glasses. Just layering. You didn’t find his skin disgusting, but given the world’s issues with pandemic it can’t be helped.

“Great, now you got him started again-“ Logan would complain, yet was already grabbing his leather jacket. Complaining, yet clearly willingly excited all the same. Just in his own way.

“Would you like to join us, Miss Althea?” You asked her, which gave her a bit of a surprise. You wanted her to come along? She normally never tagged along on things like this. Yet, you offered. Even though most times she would say no. Not this time.

“Someone needs to make sure you assholes don’t get into more shit.” She smarted off, but was already standing. With the help of Logan, of course. Just in time for Wade to return.

“Come on disabled gang! Let’s go!” He would clap, as Logan just kept rolling his eyes. You yourself were excited, and leading the charge now. All with Miss Puppins happy in your arms. So happy to have a big family to take her on adventures.

Nothing more sweet than a happy pup.

[hellsslibrary]

sub...Michael Kaiser...with male reader...please...I'm begging...

Just saw the latest chapter and him saying "please" made me simultaneously combust.

What if he says that word but on a completely different context, iykwim 👀👀👀👀

"In an ideal relationship, pure love and dirty sex complement each other, not exclude each other."

#a.n. : You can't imagine how much fun it was to write this, different sides of the dominant were fighting inside me, it was wild.

MASTERLIST is here.

!!Warnings: top!dom!male!reader, sub!bottom!Michael, brat taming, humiliation, light strangulation, dry orgasm, you dig Kaiser to the point of half death, reader breaks the bed and unironically fights Alexis for a place in the hotel with Michael by playing tic-tac-toe (mention, I thought it was funny), Kaiser is literally folded in half, one bite to his ankle and a slight mention of blood, three phrases in German (my half-German roots take over), riding.

It was obviously not a revelation to Kaiser why this had started. He had started to understand it the moment you almost fought Ness to share a hotel room with him. After all, you, as adults and completely mentally ill people, played tic-tac-toe and you beat Alexis. After all, he could survive a couple of nights not in a room with Michael, but you? Oh no, you had too big of a plan for him.

He had figured it out himself, as soon as he saw that you were actually focused on winning this stupid game and not playing for fun... But I guess he didn't understand what exactly was waiting for him. Although that's the best part.

"G-gott! Y/n, slow d-down! This is, oh shit, this is too mu-much!" came out unintelligibly from his lips, while he grabbed the sheets beneath him with all his might, his graceful fingers almost tearing apart the poor fabric that was holding on with all its might.

"Are you sure?" you clarify, knowing he won’t answer because he doesn’t want to, but he also doesn’t want to seem too needy.

And so he does. He stays silent, burying his face in the pillows and pushing his ass back a little more to somehow meet your ruthless thrusts that didn’t allow him to breathe properly.

You squeeze his hips, pressing lightly on his stomach under your fingers, causing him to whine loudly, even muffled by the cotton pillowcases. His toned ass jiggles slightly with each thrust, making you want to bite one of his cheeks right now, but oh, what a shame the human body can’t bend like that, huh?

Kaiser felt too good as you admired his ass and his bulging back without any other thought. He felt like his whole being was melting, turning into nothing more than obedient plasticine in your hands, which you could bend as you wish.

He bites his lip to hold back another moan. It seems like he can hear his heartbeat in every part of his body, no matter how unimportant or far from his head. It seems like his blood is so hot that he is about to melt... Not that it is not true, considering how sweaty you both have been for the last few dozen minutes.

"Aren't you going to answer me, handsome? Or do you want me to stop and leave you empty and thirsty, hm?" your whisper sends involuntary goosebumps down his body when he realizes that your chest is rubbing against his back and he makes some kind of sound similar to hiccups, turning his head to the side.

"Shut up."

The phrase made your hips freeze almost immediately, your eyebrow involuntarily crawling up at the fact that he had the strength to speak clearly, and also to act like a complete brat, when you were obviously lifting him to Heaven and back with your actions.

"Move, idiot. Why the hell did you stop?"

Your eye twitched and you took a deep breath, looking down at his frowning, flushed face. There were traces of moisture all over his face from tears and sweat mixed together, his lips were slightly swollen from holding back moans, but most importantly, his eyes. The shine in them. He knew what he was doing, or rather, what he was saying.

Before he could come to his senses, your lips spread into an almost animalistic smile and your cock completely slipped out of him. Kaiser was about to complain, but you abruptly flip him over onto his back, and then immediately, without warning, you penetrate inside.

His next moan was probably heard by everyone in the hotel, or at least on your floor. And all the following ones, too. He was no longer holding back, moaning at the top of his lungs. His hands were looking for something to grab onto and wanted to close around your shoulders, but you would not allow him such luxury, so you squeezed his palms above his head.

"What a pity. If you want to act like a little slut, then I will have to treat you like one," you lean right over his face, sliding out so that only your tip remains inside him, and then penetrate in the roughest way you can.

"Ohhh, ple-please... Ple-please, fuck, s-sir, I b-beg yo-you... P-please!"

He himself did not understand what he was begging for, while you just let out a chuckle from this. Michael could barely form any coherent words, he was just mumbling obvious nonsense now.

Your fingers squeezed the blond's leg at his knee, throwing one of his legs over your shoulder, practically folding him in half. He muttered something unintelligible, tears starting to flow from his closed eyes while his hands clenched into fists helplessly in your grip.

"What? You decided to fix yourself in a couple of seconds, handsome? That's not like you. My dick makes you drunk?" he would never admit that it did, but his head shook in agreement too convulsively.

You bite his ankle, digging into the white skin, causing him to cry out in pain, but he doesn't complain. He just stares excitedly at the small trickle of blood rolling down his leg. Your free hand, not holding his hand, falls on his neck.

And God, something clicks inside him. He cums, but nothing comes out, in that same second, although your hand did not have time to settle down and squeeze properly. You only look at the pathetic state of the German while he experiences a dry orgasm and how his cock twitches.

"What a pity... Although you are a smart boy. Even without realizing anything, you do not dare to cum for real without my permission..." Michael only moans in response, not being able to say anything anymore, especially now that you are blocking part of his air.

"Please, Y-y/n," he manages to mumble somehow, looking at you with empty, smoky eyes, hazed with a haze of lust, and you feel how he squeezes around your cock. Probably on purpose, but now you do not care.

"Please what, baby? You have to speak clearly," he frowns, looking away and staring at some tasteless painting on the wall, trying to pull some kind of speech out of his brain.

"Let me cum... Bitte, mein schatz," Kaiser whines, managing to somehow rise up, although it is clearly uncomfortable and even painful for him, given the position he is in, and kissing the corner of your lips, missing the main target. "Bitte lass mich abspritzen, lass mich auf deinen Schwanz abspritzen..."

You feel something break inside you. He looked beautiful and didn't even seem embarrassed as usual by his obvious vulnerability and the state of some kind of toy in your hands. In the end, he even found the strength to kiss you and didn't even wince at the fact that he literally bent in half for a couple of seconds. Well, how can you not spoil such a boy, right?

His head falls back, he sighs raggedly when you begin to pound him with the maximum speed and roughness you can muster right now. The bed beneath you creaks pitifully, as does Kaiser himself, not expecting such pressure.

"Dann komm, Hübscher," your words send him over the edge immediately, squeezing your cock as if in a vice.

He paints your and his stomach white, cumming surprisingly much. And he doesn't react at all when you continue your thrusts with a same force, only small sighs escaping from his lips.

But then he screams and something cracks under you. You manage to catch him and throw his leg aside carefully but quickly, and press him to your chest.

"You... Managed to break the bed? Wow, new even for you," Michael mutters, watching the mattress and sheets sag in the hole in the bed, chuckling hoarsely and weakly hugging your shoulders now that he has this opportunity.

"I'll ask to change the room and pay for the bed... I don't even want to imagine the face of the girl at the reception, but..." You look up at the blond, who is now sitting on your lap and thoughtfully narrow your gaze.

"Ride you? Good," he understands what is needed, feeling that you have not yet finished and managed to twitch inside him even at such a moment. "You can't be trusted with the pace anymore, you're too wild... Next time we're in hotels, I'll ride you."

"Fair and sweet, I'm more than willing," he starts moving his hips, moaning with every movement, still sensitive from his orgasm, trying not to go too fast so you both don't fall off the bed... Until the broken part of the bed falls to the floor, causing a huge noise, but hey, you're facing the ace of German youth football, who cares? Especially one so rarely vulnerable and caring like this.

[moon7jay]

i keep thinking abt noncon w sunghoon like just imagine….

THIS. like idk but something about being helpless under sunghoon would fix me😩. Sorry it took so long anon but here u go!

Forced to take him (p.sh)

🫴Read part 2 here

Warnings : MINORS DNI, non-con, squirting, creampie, cheating, I guess that's it? , mentions of the word "RAPE"

It's non consensual so please if u are not comfy with it, DO NOT READ.

Your sister's boyfriend was weird to say the least. The first time your sister brought him to your shared apartment was last month and ever since then he has made it his second home. See you wouldn't mind this home invasion if only he didn't glare at you with the most intensity u have ever seen someone direct towards u everytime u were in his vicinity. Dead dark eyes following your every move as u pranced around the house.

Your sister's boyfriend was definitely weird, but you had never sensed any sort of danger from him, despite the hostile stares now and then, you never thought he could cause any real harm to u. Not until..

The first time it happened, you were in the kitchen. feeling a presence looming behind your back as u made coffee "lana why r u hovering" u spoke thinking it was your sister but a response never came. In mild curiosity u turned around and your breath hitched when your eyes met his dark dead ones. He was too close, way too close for it to be appropriate.

"W-what do u want? " U asked his tall figure hovering over you, looking anywhere but his eyes, they made u so nervous, like a prey.

He moved more closer to u, this made u look into his eyes, to assess his intentions but the dark glare that he was giving u made u tense up and press your back to the kitchen counter.

You were not expecting his big hands to wrap around your mid section, a gasp escaping your lips when he squeezed your mid section as if spanning your waist and stomach

"So small" he whispered as if in a trance. Your eyes widened but u were frozen, unable to move or speak, something told u that if u upset him, u could end up bloody on the ground. Tears gathered at your waterline, threatening to fall from your eyes as he kept squeezing more and more.

"I'll have a field day forcing myself inside u" he whispered , his eyes not leaving what he was doing with his hands

The tears finally fell at his words and your mouth gaped like a fish, wanting to say something, scream, anything, wild eyes looked up at your face and all breath left your lungs when he smiled at u in an almost maniacal way

"So pretty when u cry aren't u, it drives me crazy, You drive me crazy" he said moving in to lick your tears, making u shudder and close ur eyes, trying to move your face away from him but a large hand came up to hold the back of your neck to keep u in place and u squeaked when his other hand started groping your ass.

You were full on sobbing now as he moved his tongue to your neck and collar bones, your hands holding on to the edges of the kitchen counter in a deathly grip. His teeth punctured your delicate skin making a pained cry leave your lips and that seemed to catch his attention as he stopped doing what he was doing and stepped back all of a sudden. He stared carefully at your heaving form before walking out of the kitchen like it was a normal Tuesday.

As soon as he was out of sight, your knees buckled and you fell on the kitchen floor, sobbing and trying to catch your breath.

Your sister's boyfriend was weird. And you should have told your sister about it, you should have confronted him, you should have taken his words more seriously, you should have sensed the impending danger, you should have... But you didn't.

The next time it happened, u had just gotten home from classes, hearing weird noises in the living room, your feet moved towards it.

Nothing could have prepared u for the sight in front of you. Your sister was spread open on the couch as her boyfriend fucked into her, her legs over his shoulders. A gasp escaped your lips which made sunghoon and your sister look at you. Your sister started pushing sunghoon out of her to apologize to u but sunghoon's thrusts only got harder as his eyes met yours, your sister struggling underneath him, telling him to stop, but all u could hear was static as his expression morphed into one of pleasure as he held eye contact with you, smiling lewdly at you as he came inside your sister. You turned on your heel and ran up to your room, locking it and leaning against the door to catch your breath.

What the fuck was that.

Outside, you could hear your sister yelling at him but the next second you could hear her moans of pleasure again.

Your sister's boyfriend was so weird.

The sound of your door closing woke u up. Sitting abruptly to look around your darkened room.

"lana is that you? " you asked as u turned to ur bedside to turn the lamp on.

Your eyes met his dark ones and your palms started sweating. Sunghoon stood at the edge of your bed, scanning your skimpily dressed body like a predator. Before you could say anything, he started to unbutton his shirt

"What-what the fuck do u think you're doing? " your voice shook as you asked him

"fucking you" Is what the reply came.

"You c- can't" tears started to gather in your eyes again, why were you so scared of him??

"I'll scream, lana will find out, she'll kick you out" You tried threatening him confidently as he unbuckled his belt, his naked chest on display, you averted your eyes.

"she's passed out baby, some sleeping pills is all it takes" he whispered climbing up on the bed.

Your head could not register his words. He drugged your sister.

He drugged your sister to rape you.

You screamed as he grabbed your legs to bring you closer to him as he hovered over your body. His hands trapping you under him as you thrashed and hit him to let go. You did not see the slap coming, but your throbbing lip was enough to make u stare at him with wide eyes, ceasing all your movements.

"I can bleed you to death u know" He whispered scarily calm. His hand moving behind his jeans to pull out a shiny blade. Tears started falling from your eyes as you whimpered in fear of your life. Something in his crazed eyes told u that he had done this before. This wasn't his first time. Not his first time Raping someone. Not his first time Killing someone.

"Please... " u whispered, your lips trembling and bleeding from his strike.

He pressed the cold blade to your throat

"What's it gonna be baby? Want me to slit your throat so I can fuck you to death? or will u let me fuck your warm body while you're still alive? " He asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect

"Tell me. Dead or alive? "

"A-alive" u croaked, your body starting to shut down from the terror, the blade pressed to your throat making you numb to everything else.

He smiled and tsked in a disappointed way

"Damn u didn't fight much, was looking forward to some blood bath as we fuck" He chuckled and kept the blade back inside the back pocket of his jeans.

Hands started to grope your body, your night gown torn apart within seconds. You layed back and stared at the ceiling, having given up in trying to stop what was about to happen.

You were a virgin, you had been saving yourself for the love of your life. Park Jay. The smartest and kindest boy in your class. You had recently started flirting with him, letting him know you were intrested. You had thought countless times of this moment. But not like this.

Curious and rough hands squeezed your breasts making your breath get heavy, this was painful. His breathing was laboured too but for entirely different reasons than yours.

He leaned over you to press his chest to your tits. "Press them up against me cmon, need to feel them " He whispered in anticipation, you arched your back to do what he said, your nipples rubbing against his own, a hiss of pleasure leaving his teeth "good girl, such a good fuck toy for me"

His hands spread your legs apart and he quickly undid his jeans, just enough to fish out his hard cock. You prepared yourself for penetration, clutching onto your sheets as you watched him jerk himself off.

His teeth biting his lower lip as he stared lewdly at your spread and naked body

"Such a pretty fuck hole" He whispered before hastily slotting himself between your legs, hands grabbing your midsection like he did that day and the next thing you feel is an excruciating pain. A pain so intense as he forces his way inside of you. Your walls are dry but he doesn't even care, curses and whines falling from his lips and he bottoms out in you, tearing your hymen. You start to sob uncontrollably "s-stop please" U croak between sobs but it only causes him to grind more into u

"Beg more for me baby, beg me to stop" He grunts with a hard thrust inside you.

He rests his forehead against yours,hands resting beside your head, tongue darting out to lick your tears once again

"Gonna tear ur pussy so good"

"Like fucking virgins so much" He whispered and pulled all the way out to thrust back in, hitting your cervix in a painful way. A pained scream ripped out of you and he smiled in sick satisfaction. Soon his expression morphed into one of wild desire and pleasure as he kept thrusting inside of you, your body started secreting fluids which made his experience all the more pleasurable and he gritted his teeth at your tight walls

"you like being raped like this don't you? Keep fucking my dick just like that"

"Fuck it baby oh yeah, god so tight"

"It's fun isn't it? Feels so good doesn't it? Pleasure me come on, make me relieve my lust"

His words sound static to your ears as you come on his cock, your body betraying u once again, sobbing continuously, you keep taking his assault.

He groans like an animal when u dig your nails in his back, begging him to stop

"Yeah baby? Want me to stop? " His thrusts getting wilder, pounding your cervix

"ask me to stop, scream for me to stop baby, makes me so hard when u beg "

His dick keeps dragging against your walls in the mix of both pain and pleasure, his hands groping your body as he unleashes his inner animal to fuck into u however he wants, he's on his third orgasm but his dick is still hard in you

"You're gonna make me cum , I'm not the only one enjoying this rape yeah baby? Fuck yeah, squeezing around me so good"

You scream hard at a particular thrust and he laughs while panting

"Oh yeah? "

"Just like that? "

"fuck fuck fuck" he gasps as he comes inside your wet heat again. Fucking his come back inside of your leaking hole, overstimulating your body, your lower region feeling numb, your mind slipping in and out of consciousness.

You felt him pulling out, hissing as he observed your leaking and abused hole

"Fuck yeah" He breathed, turning your body around and mounting you again, thrusting deep inside of you, your face squished against your pillows as he breeds you from behind.

It's animalistic, the way he fucks you.

"Wanna keep it in u forever,can't stop, I can't stop"

"Pussy So good oh fuck"

He groaned, digging his teeth at the back of your neck, you were sure u were bleeding.

Your consciousness left u somewhere in the middle of his animalistic panting and grunts.

When u came to, u found yourself in a mating press, his face right above yours as he fucked u folded in half

"Ah u're awake sunshine, raping u so good yeah? "

He breathes and licks your lower lip. His hips moving relentlessly, grinding into u at a slow pace now

"Open " He panted and as if on autopilot, all strength leaving your body, u open your mouth

He spits in it "swallow" He says and u do. He curses and bites your lower lip as his thrusts become erratic

"Mhmnn fuck yeah, one more oh yeah"

He grunts as he fucks his cum into you. Making u squirt all over him.

His mouth lapping on your pussy is all u feel before u drift into unconsciousness.

Your sister's boyfriend is so weird.

[surielstea]

Bejeweled Daggers

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Bimbo!FemReader

Summary: Reader struggles to find her place in the Inner Circle, Az comforts her.

Warnings: Amren’s a bitch but it’s canon | angst (not inflicted by Az) | Hurt/Comfort

3.8k words

I pad into my mate's study with a wild grin on my face, holding my minidress tight to my body as I approach the male who was peacefully reading.

"The others will be here any minute," I croon and Azriel's eyes drag from the page of his book to me, raking up my figure, the strapless dress putting the expanse of my neck and collar bone on display. "Can you tie me?" I whirl around and as a reply he grips the strings of my corset and then pulls tight, knowing exactly how much I hated it when it was too loose.

"I haven't seen this dress," He muttered as he tied the strings into bows. I turn my head to look at him.

"Cause I bought a new one, duh," I roll my eyes. "I should've guessed," He smiled softly and once he was done with my corset I spun back around.

"You like it? The clerk said it looked like it was made for me when I tried it on," I flash him a toothy grin and he returns it with a smirk.

"It's very pretty, but we talked about length," He hums and I groan, slinging my arms around his neck.

"C'mon Azzie, everyone knows I'm yours," I sing, kissing up the column of his throat, he swallows thickly in control.

"Cassian needs a reminder," The shadow singer grumbled beneath his breath and I giggled, rising onto the tips of my toes and pecking his lips, which he returned chastely.

"You're so cute," I say and he smiles down at me.

"Likewise, love," He inclines and presses a kiss to my temple, then pecks all over my face until he finally finds my lips.

I sling my arms around the back of his neck and lean closer, pulling him into me as my chest presses against his.

I smile against the feel of his lips sealed over mine, the familiarity and warmth of it making me grin like a madwoman. He pulled back with a sloppy smirk and I giggled at the blush tinging his cheeks, reaching forward and wiping the lipgloss off his bottom lip. "If you ruined my makeup I'm gonna kill you," I threaten and he shakes his head.

"It's just lipgloss," He shrugs innocently, clearly guilty of messing it up.

"It's expensive, I can't reapply it every five seconds because you want to kiss me," I reason and he frowns.

"I'll buy you all the lipgloss you want," He hums. "Just let me kiss you," He sighed, his hands roaming from my waist down to the curve of my ass, gripping it in his large hands. I squeal at his sudden urge and pull him closer, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

"Now you're all glittery," I murmur, pulling away and wiping at his neck.

"Everything you touch turns to glitter," He says and I scowl up at him. "In a good way, my love," He smiles down at me but before my grin can return he adds, "Except that one time you bedazzled truth-teller, don't ever do that again," He said, his voice cold but my mischievous giggle cut right through it.

"It was so funny when you had to torture that guy with a sparkly knife," I murmur past my laugh and he glares at me.

"It took me weeks to get that shit off, I'm still finding sequins on it," He sighed and I only continue to cackle, entirely forgetting that Cassian and I had done that when Azriel foolishly left the sacred knife out on the counter.

"I was trying to teach you a lesson," I roll my eyes.

"Yeah? What lesson is that?" He looks down at me pointedly and I smile like a maniac.

"Not to leave sharp objects out," I shrug.

"You're right, I should've known two fully grown five hundred-year-olds would put glitter on my knife," He grumbled.

"Or, children, I'm just saying don't make a habit out of putting weapons in low places," I add, wrapping my arms around his torso, propping my chin up on his chest as I stare up at him. He looks at me with slight shock. This is the first time I had ever expressed wanting a child before, to say he was stunned as well as relieved was an understatement.

A knock at the front door makes his shoulders tense and I beam, rising onto my toes and pecking his lips before slipping from his grasp and leaving the office.

When I opened the door I was met with a wide-grinned Cassian and a thoroughly annoyed Nesta. My smile matches the Illyrian’s and I open the door wider for them to come in. "You guys are early," I croon.

"Cassian insisted on it," Nesta huffs, shucking off her jacket and hanging it on the hook

"Oh don't act like you don't want to be here," I beam wildly at her. "Or are you still pissed I missed training?" I sigh dramatically.

"For the third time in a row? Yes," She nodded, making her way to the dining table where a charcuterie board sat lined with cheeses and crackers, she opted for a grape, popping it into her mouth with a contemplative look on her face.

"I don't understand, if Azriel shows up to help train what are you doing at home?" She grumbled but before I could reply Azriel's arm slithers around my waist.

"She insists on getting her beauty rest," Azriel excuses and I smile wickedly.

"It's not my fault I'm tired after you keep me up all night," I tease and Nesta's cheeks flush pink, making me giggle. "I'll come to the next training I promise, I'm sure Cassian will have my head if I don't," I say, looking to the warrior who was currently stuffing his mouth full of cheese and crackers, not paying any mind to the three of us.

The knock at the door makes my grin falter slightly but Azriel was quick to answer it.

I had always been the closest with Nesta out of everyone in the inner circle. Feyre was kind and Rhys was charming, but they all kind of looked at me as if I was only some ditzy girl. Which, granted, wasn't far off but they belittled me and took pity on Azriel for being stuck with a girl like me as a mate. Nesta saw the way they looked at me and knew how it felt to be undermined.

Azriel had reassured me a multitude of times that I was the only one for him, that I was a Carynthian warrior far greater than a pretty face. "Deep breaths," Nesta mumbles as Amren, Rhysand, and Feyre with Nyx in her arms file into the house. I bump her lightly with my shoulder and she returns it playfully.

I greeted the guests with a bright smile on my face, and Nyx was particularly pleased to see me. "Hi, little lord," I say as I take the two-year-old from Feyre's arms, propping him on my hip.

"Auntie I missed you," He clings to my side, nuzzling his face into my shoulder and I giggle.

“I think Uncle Az and I are watching you soon," I say and he cheers with a wide smile, that smile is one of the reasons I wanted a kid in the first place. If baby fever was a person, it'd take the form of Nyx.

The inner circle had come over to talk strategy on how to get each court to sign Rhysand's new peace treaty, humans included. Apparently, they've been working on this since the war with Hybern, the entire thing managing to fly under my radar.

Everyone was in the sitting room, staring at a large map of Prythian sprawled out on the coffee table along with dates and schedules scribbled along the borders of it. I had tuned out most of what they were saying, using confusing language and names of people whom I did not know made me lose interest and grow frustrated with my lack of comprehension.

I stuffed my face into Azriel's neck defeated, my legs sprawled over his lap as he traced with the hem of my skirt.

"You tired, baby?" He murmurs quietly and I shake my head no with a huff. "What's wrong, hm?" He nudges the side of my face with his nose and I slowly lift from the crook of his shoulder to look at him.

"I'm just confused, I don't know this stuff," I sigh, toying with my hands anxiously. His fingers intertwine with my fidgeting ones, calming me. I hated not understanding, it put me on edge. Being raised in the hewn city without a clue of what the real world was supposed to look like would do that to you.

"I'll walk you through it later tonight okay?" He tilts his head and I nod with creased brows. His other hand comes to my jaw, scarred thumb brushing over my cheek reassuringly. "Don't worry so much, I'll explain whatever you want alright?" He stresses and I reply with a dip of my head, then lean on his shoulder again.

I place soft pecks on his neck throughout the rest of the meeting, ignoring the others and focusing on my mate, and him alone. After a few more minutes of just dwelling there, attempting to tune out their words I begin to wear out and know better than to distract Azriel with my boredom.

I swing my legs off of Azriel's lap and stand with quiet movements. Azriel looked up at me curiously, hand linking with mine, silently asking where I was going.

"I think you're right, I'm just tired," I whisper and he hesitates, then inevitably nods— but before I can leave his grasp he pulls me closer, quietly demanding a kiss with a dramatic pucker of his lips. I roll my eyes at his dramatics but lean down nonetheless and chastely plant a kiss on his mouth.

"I'll see you in the morning, alright?" I murmur against his lips and he nods with a soft smile. I mirror it and he allows me to leave his hold. "Night Nes," I pat her shoulder and she looks up at me tiredly.

"I better see you at training tomorrow," She warns and I wave her off with a flick of my hand.

"We'll see," I tease as I travel down the hall.

I tried to sleep but it hadn't come. Truthfully I wasn't tired, I just wanted to get away from the stares of the others. I could still feel their eyes on me. Defiling and obvious like they weren't trying to hide their dislike for me.

I run a bath, eager to wash that feeling of their eyes on me off. I tie my hair up and add soaps and oils to the water, running my hand under it until it gets hot before stripping down and stepping into the basin that was slowly filling. A shiver runs down my spine at the sudden change of temperature, my body tensing at first then muscles relaxing into the water. I sigh in slight relief and lean onto the back of the tub, pearlescent bubbles slowly beading along the surface of the water in a pastel pink shade.

I smile and gather a pile of foam in my hands, lightly blowing air into them and creating a larger bubble. I smile but the expression drops when I hear a loud shout over the sound of the running water. I crease my brows when I recognize the voice as Azriel’s.

Quickly I turn off the faucet and allow the room to go silent. Azriel never shouted, so I was confused as to what all the ruckus was about.

“You have no right to speak of her like that,” My mate claims on the other side of the wall and my back straightens at the coldness in his voice. He was beyond angry.

“I’m just saying, she doesn’t really belong with the rest of us,” Amren’s unmistakable voice made the water around me suddenly feel cold.

“What the hel is wrong with you?” Nesta spews.

“She's my mate, I don’t give a fuck if you think she belongs or not,” Azriel claims, and my eyes widen, my hands coming up to my mouth. They were talking about me. Quickly I move closer to the wall, hovering beside it to get better audibility. Was it eavesdropping if it was me they were discussing?

“Amren you promised you wouldn’t do this,” A voice sighed so quietly I couldn’t make out who it was.

“You talked about this before you came?” Nesta rages, her voice louder as if she was standing now.

“She’s a Carynthian, most of you can’t even claim that title yet you’re so quick to underestimate her,” Cassian’s defending voice was close, like he was leaning against the connecting wall between me and the sitting room.

“I’m only stating the truth, what does she bring to the table?” Amren continued and I could practically feel Azriel’s bloodlust seeping through the walls, the lights of the bathroom flickered and I realized he was draining the light, his shadows absorbing any existing brightness.

“Get out of my fucking house,” Azriel seethes and offers no other words to the eldest of the group and I imagine she stormed off because the next thing I hear is the front door slamming shut.

There's a moment of shared silence, but no words come before the same door opens and shuts again.

There were muttering and sighs in the next room over but there were no words I was capable of making out. I could tell by the tone as well as the femininity that it was Nesta speaking, I could only assume Cassian stuck around with her as well and was proven correct when I heard the familiar warmth of his voice a moment later.

It wasn’t long before they left as well. Leaving the house silent and the lights dim.

I couldn’t help but let the tears slip from my eyes, I felt pathetic for silently crying over Amren’s lone opinion but it hurt. The inner circle knew Azriel better than anyone, if they truly thought I didn’t bring anything forward then perhaps I wasn’t the one for Azriel, maybe the cauldron managed to get it wrong, even if I loved him more than anything.

“Love?” The soft knock at the door makes me startle, quickly wipe away my tears as I move away from the wall I had my ear pressed to.

“Come in,” My voice cracks but I pray he didn’t recognize it. The door creaks, shadows come in first, then him. I smile at him softly and he mirrors it.

“I thought you were going to bed?” He asks and I shrug.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I murmur and he comes closer, grabbing the stool from my vanity and pulling it to the rim of the tub, placing himself on it and I find myself amused at the view of the intimidating Shadow Singer on my fluffy pink stool.

“You hear all that?” He creases his brows. I give a dip of my head with a small frown pulling at my lips. “Don’t let it get to you, alright?” He stresses and I nod again while muttering, “I know.”

He sighs, his expression softening as I avoid his gaze and continue to admire the pastel bubbles that made the room smell like peaches. “Come over here, I’ll wash your hair,” He offers and I flick my eyes up to him with a small look of hesitance, he nods reassuringly and I do as he says, turning around and backing myself against his side of the tub.

He tilted my head back before pouring warm water down my locks, running his hands through it smoothly with the gentlest of detangles when he found a knot near the ends. After my hair was successfully wet he lathered it in my most luxurious shampoo. I cared deeply about my appearance, it took a lot of time to look as pretty as I did, but at this moment I hadn’t felt any of it, just dejection and a sense of exclusion.

Shadows dipped into the water and then sprung from the surface in playful loops, noticing my low spirits and attempting to cheer me up. I smile and reach my hand out towards the darkness, to which the strands swirl up my forearm excitedly. Azriel rinses the soap from my hair before moving onto the conditioner. “Do you want to talk about it?” I tilt my head back, catching a glimpse of him from my peripherals.

“There’s nothing to talk about, I know I love you and that’s all that matters” He replies and a frown pulls at my lips. “Unless you want to talk?” His hands freeze their massage on my scalp. “I’m fine,” Lie. “I don’t need comfort, and I don’t need to be protected,” I murmured. “But I appreciate you defending me,” I turn my hand to the side to look at him with a weak smirk.

“I can tell when you’re lying, love,” He intones and I flush looking back down to the suds in the water.

“Okay so maybe what Amren said got to me,” I huff. “She was right,” I confess.

“She wasn’t,” Azriel’s tone was unwavering with no hesitance. There was no swaying him.

“Azriel, think about it. What do I bring to the table?” I ask as he washes the conditioner from my hair.

“You made all the food, and set up the whole meeting,” He explains and I roll my eyes.

“You would’ve had the meeting with or without the food, the fact that’s the only thing you can come up with shows just how pathetic I am,” I spell out and his expression hardens before he says, “You didn’t let me finish.”

I look at him longingly, then let out a sigh, hinting that he can continue. “Don’t worry about what you bring to a war meeting, it’s not your scene and that’s okay,” He murmurs, gathering a fluffy towel for me as I step out of the warm bath.

“But it’s your scene,” I argue as he wraps the warmed towel around me, his hands patting down my body until I am dry.

“I love that we’re different, you’re a breath of fresh air from all of that, like sunlight in a cell,” He smiled, scarred hands coming up to cup my cheeks. I never forgot Azriel’s background, how torturous his half-brothers were, his father locking him up in that cell like he was some kind of animal. “We’re cauldron fated, made for each other aren’t we?” He points out.

“My parents are mates and my father used my mother until she died,” I state. “You don’t have to like each other, you’re just paired on offspring,” I shrug and a soft smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

“But I do love you and that won’t ever change, isn’t that enough?” He asks and I look up at him, into those familiar eyes that always managed to read me like an open book.

“I don’t want to come between you and your friends,” I whisper.

“You’re not, Amren’s always going to have her issues until you risk your life or save someone else’s, she’s just like that,” He shrugs.

“Okay,” A shiver runs down my spine from the cold of the room against my dripping hair.

He notices and guides me out of the bathing chamber into our bedroom. He walks me to the armoire where he collects my softest nightgown and a pair of undergarments.

Silently he helps me get dressed, his touches tender and reassuring as he slips the cotton underwear up my thighs then pulls my baby pink nightgown over my head.

I walk over to my nightstand and brush through my damp hair a few times before slipping into the bed with a tired yawn.

Azriel climbed in next to me after stripping until he was half-naked. His arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me right into him, my hands press against his bare chest and he smiles down at me. “Feel better?” He mumbles and I nod with a smile, it was the truth. I was coming across the realization that it didn’t quite matter if I thought I belonged or not, because I knew I loved Azriel, and I knew no one could rip me away from him even if they tried.

“I love you too, by the way,” I whisper and he presses a kiss to my forehead before a smirk stretches over his lips.

“I know,” He murmurs.

I look up at him with a beaming grin, then scoot up only an inch to press my lips onto his, my hand coming up to his cheek as I bare my soul onto his with the action, so innocent yet so powerful, like an electric charge between us, a current of both devotion and admiration that was outmatched against anything I had ever felt before, and the sensation returned every time his lips were on mine.

“Go to sleep love, you have to get some rest because I think Nesta might take down that door if you don’t show up to training tomorrow,” He hums and I groan, remembering I had to stay true to my word. “Valkyrie forced to do Valkyrie training, a true travesty,” He mumbled into my neck, dipping his head down into it.

“Shut up, Azzie,” I pout, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck and pulling him into my breasts to silence him.

“Yes ma’am,” He mumbles dreamily and I giggle, loosening my arms so he can look up at me. I pinch my lower lip between my teeth as I brush his hair back, admiring his sharp features. I run my thumb down the bridge of his nose, then trace beneath his lips that I never got sick of kissing.

“We could sleep, or we could find a better use of our time?” I suggest.

“I’m not fucking you senseless then forcing you to go to training tomorrow, you’d be too sore,” He shakes his head.

“Then don’t fuck me senseless?” I suggest.

“You know I’m incapable,” He replies and I crack a smile because I know he’s right. He pushes up and chastely pecks my lips.

“After training tomorrow we will, you always look your best in those tight leathers anyways,” He smiles, his hand coming to my upper thigh, notably gripping it for emphasis.

“I think I just always look my best,” I toss back and he nods.

“Also true,” He murmurs. “Now sleep, I’ll be here in the morning,” He mumbled tiredly and I nodded, leaning down once more and pressing one last kiss to his lips.

“Night night, Azzie,” I murmur.

“Goodnight, my love,”

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[fictionalmenxyn]

߷𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬߷

Pairing: Chris x influencer!reader (established relationship)

Warnings: language, suggestive talking

-☺︎︎☺︎︎☺︎︎-

You had just arrived back at the LA house. Holding food bags from McDonalds. You went over to Matt’s room and dropped his food off. Realising the boys were on stream, but Chris was in his room.

You headed down to the bottom floor, Chris’ room. You knock on the door then open it.

Chris looks over and smiles “hey chat, my meal is here.” He smirks and made sure to hide his actual food from the camera. As you walks over and sat in the spare chair. Chat blew up.

‘OMG HEY Y/N!!’ ‘EW CHRIS U JUST CALL HER UR MEAL LOL’ ‘CHRIS NO AHAH 😂’ ‘y/n is not his food guys she went to McDonalds 😭’ ‘omg Y/n on stream with the boys’ ‘cuties!!!’

You smiled at the camera “hey guys, imma hop on stream with Chris and Matt.” Chris smiled and placed his meal out on the desk “chat should Y/n take over while I eat??” Matt joked “yeah, she better anyways.” Chris playfully gasped “absolutely not!!” You laughed. Taking the controller from Chris. You started to play Fortnite with Matt.

As you played, Chris watched and read chat as he ate. He’d giggle at some comments. He asked “hey chat?? Should I feed Y/n/n a nuggie??” You laughed. Chat obviously agreed. You joked “the fucking edits are gonna go wild…” he laughed “perfect!”

He held a nugget to your lips, you took a bite. Then he fed you the other half. You thanked him then handed over the controller as he was done eating.

You talked with everyone who was watching the stream as they played. Chris glanced over and chuckled “chats asking ass or tits…” Matt replied “personality, then heart..” Chris smirked “exactly…” you pulled a ‘ok, did he just agree to that’

Then Chris added “then ass.” You gasped “I was fucking waiting for that!!” You added “I was like ‘damn he really just agreed with Matt without saying that’s then you said it I was like ‘there it is’” you all laugh.

While Matt was doing something, you and Chris sat in his room waiting for Matt’s return.

Chris was eating a pack of sour patch kids. You stuck your index finger and thumb out. You give him the puppy dog eyes “can I have you?” He grinned “magic word??” “Please??” “It’s abracadabra!” He laughed hard. You laughed at him, thinking ‘how the fuck was it that funny??’ He held the pack out to you “here babe, since you sooo kindly said ‘please’ I guess I’ll let you have some.” You smiled “thank youuu”

You looked to the camera “see chat, this is what I gotta stick up with.” That earned a loud gasp from Chris “you did not!” He put his sour patch kids down and started play fighting with you.

Matt returned to his room, sitting back in his chair. “You guys ready for another round on here? Or we playin’ dress to impress???” No answer… “Chris? Y/n? Chat, what’re they doing??” He leaned closer to his screen and read chat. Spamming.

‘They’re play fighting again!!’

Matt chuckles, you get back into your seat again “Matt come get your fuggly ass brother” Chris playfully but definitely gently punched your arm. You punched his back “ow bitch! That hurt!” You giggled. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up!” “Wa, wa, babe, too bad so sad.” Chris demanded “kiss it better!!” You laughed. Giving his shoulder a kiss.

After a while, you were now sat on his lap as you watched him and Matt play dress to impress. “No Chris get the mini skirt!!” “I’m getting there!!” You clapped when he put it on the avatar “fucking slay, hoe!” He smiled. You said “chat, rate fit outta ten!” Everyone spamming nines and tens.

As the ratings started, Chris wrapped his arms around your waist. Placing a few small kisses to your cheek and jaw. He smiled “foot outfit choice, baby” you smiled “what can I say, I’m just too good.” Matt and Chris laughed.

You lean back into Chris, resting your head on his shoulder. Staying like that for the rest of the stream. In between all the play fighting and grabbing snacks. He also gave you the occasional kisses and pecks. You were the official ‘chat reader’ as Chris put it. Reading out chat and talking to the viewers. Everyone loved you on stream with the guys while they played games all night.

-☺︎︎☺︎︎☺︎︎-

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART I

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU. HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU... BUT WILL HE?

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED AND/OR REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MDNI.

An original fanfiction series, written by Misha St. James.

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

***************************************

I did not proof-read this after Tumblr gave me hell trying to share. So pls excuse possible typos. hehe

***************************************

Let's just get to the point, shall we?

Once upon a time, a young boy named Will Byers went missing. Later, he was found in an alternate dimension by the world's #1 mom and a cynical cop turned hero. A girl with a shaved head had telekinetic superpowers, befriend's Will's four loyal friends along the way and helping them track down their missing party member. Then, whatever the hell was on the other side - whatever was in this...upside down...took back Eleven. She'd been missing ever since that dreadful winter.

Fast forward to now: you're sitting in your uncle's bunker, looking at his wild display of efforts.  Papers, files, whiteboards covered in multiple words, arrows, sketches - all in different colored markers. Murray Bauman was on a mission, and he would be damned if that grumpy, cynical smart-ass known as Jim Hopper honestly thought that he could dismantle his efforts.  Nice try, chum. Game on. Thankfully, you'd gone to school with Barbara Holland. That's whose parents had assigned the task of searching for her to your uncle. Murray was asking you tons of questions, and you were glad to help. It meant spending time with the only family member you cared for, despite his wackiness. You guys got each other. Bantered well. Got shit done. Honestly, it was also a great way of drinking safely and not with a bunch of rowdy teenagers at some stupid party. You got along just fine with everyone at school. But damn, they could all be annoying.  ...especially Steve fucking Harrington, who was now the topic of conversation. You know, given that his house is where Barbara was last seen. "It just isn't making sense," your uncle huffed, raking his hands through his oily dark hair.  You sipped on the glass of vodka that your uncle had poured you, hissing at the strong taste. Leaning across the coffee table, seated on his couch, you tried to connect the dots with him. "I'm telling you, someone in that group of teens knows what's up. Or at least has an idea." Your uncle swigged at his vodka, defeated but ruthlessly trying to piece together his clusterfuck of scattered evidence across his wall. "Well then, guess we better grill 'em."

And that's how you come into the picture. When Nancy and Jonathan came to seek out Murray. And when they arrive, they're surprised to see you. They recognize you from school. Jonathan took several classes with you. In fact, the two of you got along well at Hawkins High. No, you weren't close. But you both were cool. Nancy, on the other hand, didn't know anything about you. Just that you took political science with Barbara, and got straight A's across the board. You could've been class valedictorian. But you were not looking for any sort of title that demanded pressure or attention. At least not in high school. Career wise? Sure. Not here, though. Not Hawkins. "Your timeline is wrong," Nancy is saying, making you and Bauman freeze.  Nancy is telling you that the girl with the buzzed hair is not Russian. She is, in fact, from Hawkins lab. And her name is...Eleven? So they do know something. And something turns out to be everything.

Jonathan sits you both down to relay everything to you both. And woof, does it give you guys a headache. Strangely, though... it makes a whole lot more sense than some mundane explanation of sorts. Obviously though, that puts you all in a tough spot where you'll all need to put your heads together. So the two classmates of yours stay, sharing in chilled Smirnoff and having to endure the hilarity that ensues between you and your uncle. You and Murray both banter well with the two of them. Jonathan finds you to be hilarious. Nancy finds you intimidating. Very intimidating. You’re quick witted, darkly humored and independent. But there is a reserved, mysterious sort of feminine energy to you, despite your more masculine strengths and bluntness. Over glasses of stiff vodka, you all come to the conclusion on how to go about exposing the truth about Barbara Holland's disappearance: water it down.

At the end of the night, you're all winding down -- you and your uncle having convinced the two lovebirds to stay. But when you're telling them they can take your uncle's guest room while you take the couch, Jonathan's asking if he can take the couch. You blink. Huh? ...surely Nancy is not still with --

"Okay, I'm confused," your uncle's saying. "What's going on here? Lovers quarrel?"

You cock an eyebrow, leaning back into the loveseat.

But Jonathan and Nancy are then talking over each other with weird, flustered excuses...saying they're just friends.

You and your uncle bust out laughing. And then you're shrinking back in your seat, knowing what's coming: one of your Uncle Murray's lovebird witchdoctor speeches that he barrels into anytime that two delusional people have convinced themselves that they aren't in love. Or at the very least, not into each other. 

Uncle Murray is breaking them down, one at a time. He's reading Jonathan like an angsty teen novel, seeing right through him and his brooding, mysterious energy.  Trust issues, thanks to daddy issues. Yikes, that makes you sip some more drink.

And then he's onto Nancy, saying that she's harder to read. But he manages anyway.  It's the Bauman way.

He's telling her that she's likely like everyone else, "afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for you who you really are." He looks at you. "Am I in the right ballpark?"

You nod, swallowing the last drop of vodka in your cup. "That...and afraid of that might happen if she didn't retreat back to the safety of someone familiar."

Nancy looks bewildered. But more than that, she looks caught. 

"Name?" your uncle is prodding, snapping his fingers.  "Name."

You and Jonathan both say it. "Steve."

Uncle Murray's face is priceless. He feigns adoration, putting on a baby voice as he repeats the name. "Dawh. Steve. We like Steve."

"Yes," Nancy laughs nervously.  Eek, you think.

"But we don't love Steve..." Your uncle's words floor Nancy.

And when Nancy's saying something about still being with Steve, insisting that she loves him, you roll your eyes. Even scoffing, getting her attention. Maybe if the vodka weren't in your system, you wouldn't be so bold. But Jonathan's mopey look just gives you more confidence.

"Boom, ladies and gents," you say with a grin. "Second lie of the evening." "The hell was the first one?" Jonathan asks, blinking. "You guys being just friends." You and your uncle say something along the same lines, simultaneously. You both laugh together, clinking glasses. The two not lovebirds just squirm awkwardly in their seats. Finally, you sigh. "Look. You guys don't wanna give up the ghost? Be my guest. I'll happily keep my bed." You stand up, ready to turn in. But not until casting them one last work, pointing a finger. "But if I were you two? I'd cut the bullshit and just share the damn bed." Murray snorts, rising to stand as well. He stretches. "Welllllp. I'm turning in for the night." You begin mounting the stairs, hollering: "Better act fast, kiddos. At least before this poison in my system knocks me out cold. Don't worry, Nancy, I don't snore. So if you do choose me, you're safe." "But that's so lame," Murray adds to that wryly, heading off to his room. You both tell each other goodnight, leaving the two angsty teens to decide their fate. All you know is that Nancy ends up walking out and not coming back, at one point in the night.  Yeah, thought so. Breakfast the next morning is even more hilarious. You and your uncle ask every single question that drips with innuendo that you ever possibly could. And it's worth every fucking minute.

Murray's gonna need to keep that couch cleaned. To your surprise, Murray sends you off with Nancy and Jonathan, but given that you want to go and see it all for yourself you don't mind. You’re basically his little spy.  Most uncles send off their nieces and nephews with some good advice, maybe a packed lunchbox or snacks, and a warm hug. 

Yours, however, sends you off with a full bottle of vodka, a thick wad of cash and some fun sarcastic banter. But he headlocks you in for a hug, and you cackle. He really is a nutcase, and man you can't help but love him. He is so not the parental type. Yet somehow, he's practically raised you. And in your opinion, you're pretty well-prepared for the world. More than most, in Murray's opinion. So off you go with Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Buyers, and they both honestly enjoy your company. It helps them get past their umm...well...awkward new reality. That new reality that comes post-sex, after a long ass time of playing the tip-toe game. The sexual tension between them is hysterical to you. But you keep your thoughts to yourself for now. The vodka did most of the talking for you last night.

When you both arrive at wherever the hell your destination is, it's dark outside. And if you're being honest, it's pretty creepy. You're somewhere near the woods, and as you all walk closer you're beginning to see lights approaching you...along with a handful of shadowed figures. 

Fuck, you literally just got here.

But then, after a tense several moments... Nancy and Jonathan call out to them. You jump, startled at the fact that they do it so confidently. But the name that they call out suddenly makes it all make sense. "STEVE?" "NANCY...?" And that's how you became a crucial part of the most royal pain in the ass, King Steve's, life.

[oreolemur]

Okey so here's my request...

reader working at a strip club.... She is poor And needs financial so she is working as a stripper....So one day the gojo goes to the club and ask to get a private dance by reader So reader starts doing her job like twerking on him..and gojo gets hard...he isn't allowed to touch her cause it's the rules...soo after the 5minutes of doing her job on him he asks for her number but she declines...and like her forces her for her number and she calls security..... Gojo knows he's strong enough to kill those security then and there but he didn't and went out... she continued doing her job...closing time she went out and started walking later she saw a black car and ignored..gojo exited the car and called her she saw him and ran..he chased her and got her..and took her in and thts when the things happens (it's a Noncon request 💕)

Keep sending more requests loves! ❤

“I’m so sick of this job”, you sighed, staring at yourself in the mirror. You applied makeup to your face as you got ready to start another day of work. “At least my fit today is cute”. You were wearing a short blue skirt that exposed your ass cheeks and a see through crop top that showed cleavage. You admired yourself some more, before being rudely interrupted by your boss. “Y/n! Get your ass out here and start making these customers happy”, the man yelled. You rolled your eyes, gathering your stuff to head to the preparation room. “I really need a new job”, you muttered. Once inside, you were happily greeted by your coworkers. They all had on similar clothing as you. “I guess blue is today’s theme”, you said to your friend. 

She looked at you and nodded. “Yeah apparently the heir of the Gojo clan is coming today”, the woman mentioned. You were confused. “Who exactly?”, you questioned. She slightly hit your arm. “You don’t know Satoru? He comes in often carrying a lot of cash”, she said. “His birthday is today so we all have to wear blue to celebrate”. Raising your eyebrow at her, you still didn’t know who she was talking about. “Yeah…he’s not ringing a bell”. As the two of you chatted a while longer, you heard your name being called on stage. “Shit! How do I look?”, you asked your friend. “Like a stripper”, she laughed. You giggled at her comment, “Duh bitch, but seriously…how do I look?”. She tucked your hair behind your ears. “You look like someone who’s gonna get out of here soon. Make that money, save it, and never come back”, she said. You gave her a kiss on the cheek, proceeding to head out.

❤~On Stage~❤

It was mostly a crowd full of men, some women here and there, but mostly males were present. They all showered you with money as you worked your hips, dancing around that long silver pole you hated so much. The light from the ceiling beamed on you, revealing everything you were doing. “Isn’t she lovely?”, the man on the speaker said. Your body moved with ease as you slid down the pole, spreading your legs. The people went wild as they saw your black thong. You then got on the floor, crawling to the customers in front. You made eye contact with some of them as they put money in your skirt. “You deserve my whole savings”, one of the men said. You continued performing, until your time was up. “All right ladies and gentlemen, get ready to meet our next beauty”.

Heading off the stage, you were pulled to the side by a bouncer. “You have a private dance to attend to”, he said, guiding you to the private area of the club. “Do I have to?’, you pouted. The bouncer ignored you as he opened the door to one of the rooms. “If he tries anything you let me know”. With that he closed the door in your face. You stood there, sighing, facing your back towards your lucky customer. “Don’t look so sad”, he said. You turned around, seeing a tall white haired male with blue eyes. “Come over here”, he gestured. You put on a fake smile, approaching him. “Dance for me”, he demanded. Doing exactly what you do on stage, you begin to dance your hips, hands roaming all over your body. 

“So…what’s your name?”, you asked, trying to make small talk. “Satoru…Satoru Gojo”, he smiled. Your eyes lit up in shock. “This is who she was talking about”, you thought. The man kept his eyes on you, observing the way you moved. “You have a nice body”, Satoru complimented. He let you dance in front of him some more, before patting his lap. “Come here”, he whispered. You walked over, sitting on him. “Such a good girl”, he said, resting his arms behind his head. He spread his legs, making sure you were lap dancing directly over his cock. “Am I doing ok?”, you asked, twerking on him. Satoru nodded, “More than ok”, he smirked. You continued to dance, feeling him slightly move his hips upwards as he got hard. “Can you stop that?”you asked, getting annoyed.

The man chuckled, “Fine…but can I have your number? I would be glad to have a beautiful lady like you as a gift”. You stopped moving, looking back at him. “Sorry, hun”, you said. “I’m not interested”. You started to dance again, wishing that the time he had left would be over. “Come on, darling”, Satoru grinned. “Don’t you want to get to know me? I’m a very interesting guy”. You rolled your eyes, “Not interested”. He chuckled again, “But why not? I can give you everything you ever wanted. Money…sex…you name it”. Satoru leaned forward, whispering into your ear. “Be a good girl and accept my offer”. Feeling his hand touch your waist, you yelled for the bouncer, getting up quickly. “Hey! Get him out of here”. The large man came in, ordering Gojo to get out. “Times up, man”, he said.

Satoru stayed seated. “No fair, I still have time left”. The bouncer got close to him. “Get out or I’ll throw you out myself”, he threatened. The white haired male looked at him, finding the man funny. “Do you really want to go there?”, he asked, standing up. The two men glared at each other. You watched from the doorway, getting nervous. “Just leave”, you told him. Satoru looked over at you, “Ok, princess”, he said, walking to the door. Before he left out, he stopped, turning his focus on you. “I’ll see you soon”. You felt it in your gut that he wasn’t lying. “What did he mean by that?”, you wondered. The bouncer tried to reassure you. “Don’t worry, y/n. I’ll make sure that bastard doesn’t try anything”. The man walked with you out of the room. “I can’t believe that just happened. What a creep”, you said to yourself. 

❤~Time Skip~❤

You spent the rest of your shift, hanging out with your coworkers as you tried to forget what occurred between you and Gojo. “I heard you got to dance on Satoru”, your friend said. “How was it? Did he leave you a tip? He usually does”. You told her what happened. “For real?”, she said. “That does sound creepy, but don’t take it to heart. He’s usually a jokester”. You didn’t like how unserious she was. “Be serious! What if he kidnaps me or something? You know how desperate these customers can get”, you said. She shrugged her shoulders, telling you that Satoru has a different vibe. “He’s not like that…and besides if he does…you’ll be rich”, she joked. You laughed it off with her, trying to get over it. “All right girls time to go home”, your boss said, closing up the club. The bouncers kicked out any remaining customers, most of whom were bummed out drunk. “About time”, you yawned, stretching. 

You went backstage to change and gather your stuff. “What a day”. Waving goodbye to your coworkers, you left out the back. The night was cold. All you had on were uggs, a crop top hoodie, and leggings. “Why is it so fucking cold?”, you shivered. “I should’ve brought a heavy jacket”. You walked home, hating the fact that you didn’t have a car. “I really need to get a car”. 10 minutes into your walk, you stopped at a convenience store for snacks. “Damn, I’m starving”, You sat at a nearby bus stop, chomping down a bag of chips and some cookies. “What has my life come to?”, you thought. You reflected on life, thinking about your financial situation. Stripping made a decent amount of money, but it wasn’t enough to support everything you needed. “I really need a new job”, you whined. After you were done stuffing your face, you got up, proceeding to head home again.

As you walked past a nearby church, you knew the alley you hated was coming up. It was dark and barely had any lights. You knew another way to go, but this way was quicker. You pulled out your phone, turning on the flashlight. A bunch of cats scattered around as they saw you. Trash was littered everywhere and a few cars passed you by. Just as you were about to turn a corner, a black car pulled up next to you, rolling the windows down. “It’s nice to see you again, princess”. You looked to the side, noticing it was Satoru. “Leave me alone”, you said, walking faster. He drove slowly, following you. “It’s cold out here. Why don’t you get in so I can give you a ride?”, he suggested. You ignored him.

The man sighed, feeling himself getting irritated. “Come on, baby. Don’t be like that. I’m trying to do you a favor”. You kept ignoring him, walking even faster. You were so distracted by him bugging you that you didn’t notice yourself turning the wrong corner. “Fuck! A dead end”, you said. Satoru smiled, taking this opportunity to block you with his car. You turned around to try to walk the other way, but you saw his trap. “What the fuck?”, your heart started to beat fast as fear filled you. “Well, well, well”, the man said, getting out of the car. You backed away, seeing him walk close to you. “Get the hell away from me”, you said. Gojo shook his head. “No can do, princess”. He pulled a white cloth out of his pocket. 

“Get in the car”, he demanded. His usual smug look was gone. You could tell he was being serious. “N-no”, you said. Satoru sighed. “If you want me to be rough with you then just tell me”. He was now getting closer and closer. “This is your last chance”, he warned. “Get. In. The. Fucking. Car”. Seeing an opening, you made the brave decision to run past him. But before you could even make it, he put you in a headlock, smothering you with the cloth. “Just relax”, he said, feeling you struggle. You tried to fight back, kicking him in his leg. “You’re so cute”, he chuckled. Within minutes, you passed out. “Sleep peacefully, princess”. He picked you up, placing you in the trunk of his car. “We’re gonna have so much fun together”.

❤~An Hour Later~❤

You began to wake up. “Ow”, you groaned. Your head was throbbing from the drug Gojo used to knock you out. You blinked a couple of times, scanning the room he put you in. “Looks like my pretty princess is awake”. You noticed Satoru standing in front of a dresser. He had nothing but a blue silk robe on. “Did you sleep well?”, he asked, smiling. “Why am I here?”, you questioned. “Take me home now!”. He didn’t like your tone. “You’re so feisty, y/n”, he chuckled. You were shocked. “How do you know my name?”. The man walked over to the bed you were sitting on. He sat down, reaching for your face. “D-don’t touch me”, you slapped his hand away. Satoru stared at you with a blank expression, tilting his head. “You know…”, he paused. “Your defiance is really starting to piss me off”. 

You scoffed at him. “You think you’re starting to get pissed off? Fuck-”, before you could finish what you were about to say. Gojo slapped you. Your back hit the mattress as you laid there crying. “Don’t test me”, he said. The man got up from the bed, taking off his robe. “Get undressed”, he ordered. You continued to lay there, holding your face. “Now y/n!” Satoru raised his voice. You leaned up, taking off everything but your bra and panties. “Take those off too”, he said. You shook your head, “C-can I please keep these on?”, you asked, voice breaking. “No”, he said simply. The two of you stared at each other in silence. At this moment…you started to realize how serious the situation was. You took off the remaining clothing, making him smile. 

“Good girl”, he said. Gojo walked up to you, grabbing your face. “Don’t cry”, he cooed, seeing the mascara run down your cheeks. He gently laid you down, getting on top of you. “All you have to do is behave and I won’t hurt you”. He kissed your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth. His hand roamed your body, reaching for your pussy. “Hmm?”, he moaned, pulling away from the kiss. “You’re wet already?”, he smiled. “Did me hitting you turn you on?”.  He slid his fingers in you, thrusting deep into your cunt. You gasped, feeling his long digits explore inside you. Satoru chuckled, “I can make you feel so good”.’

He curled his fingers, hitting your g-spot. “N-no”, you moaned, reaching for his arm. The man grabbed both of your arms, pinning your wrists above your head. “Don’t do that, princess”, he kissed your neck, leaving wet sloppy trails. You blushed, slightly moaning. You could hear him laugh in between each kiss. “You smell so good”, he licked your skin, before roughly biting it. “Ow”, you whimpered. He left a red mark on your flesh, kissing the bruise. His fingers fucked you faster, feeling you clench around him. “That’s it, doll. Cum for me”. Your moans began to get louder and more high pitched. “Fuck”, you whined. Within seconds you came, making Satoru proud. He pulled his fingers out, sticking them in his mouth. “Mmm”, he grinned. 

You breathed heavily, trying to recover from your intense orgasm. “Wasn’t that fun?”, he teased. His hand wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking it. You looked down at it, seeing precum leak from his pink tip. He slapped his dick against your cunt, causing you to twitch. “God, you’re so wet”, he grunted. Without warning, he shoved himself in you. Your walls stretched open. You cried out in pain, begging him to pull out. “P-please pull out. It hurts”. Satoru caressed your face, wiping away a tear that fell from your eye. He sadistically humped you hard, making you whimper even more. “Please”, you squealed. He ignored your begging, continuing to fuck you. The man was rough as he slammed himself into you. “You take me so well”, he groaned. 

The more you cried, the sooner your voice began to die down. Gojo had you flipped on your stomach, his hand restraining your arms behind your back. You sobbed quietly into his pillow, waiting for him to be done with you. The man was fucking you harder now, making your ass clap as his pelvis kept hitting it. He moaned louder, feeling his orgasm arriving. “Fuck…you’re…s-so tight”, he grunted. With a few more thrusts, he spilled his seed into you, filling you up. “Damn”, he huffed. He pulled out of you, watching cum leak down onto his blanket. “You were so good for me, princess”, he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

You laid flat, feeling disgusted. “Can I go home now?”, you asked. He laid beside you, staring into your eyes. “Why do you want to go back?”, he questioned. “You should stay here with me. Like I said sweetface… I can give you anything you want”. He leaned into your face, kissing your lips. “You really want to go back to being a broke stripper?”. You knew he was right. You hated your job and the idea of being with someone with status and money could help you live a better life. “So what do you say?” Satoru asked. You looked at him and nodded. “Ok… I’ll stay with you”.

[propertyoftoru]

Smother Me | L.MH

wc: 2.5k

pairing: Lee Minho X Fem!Reader

warnings: smut MDNI, rimming (m rec), teasing, established relationship, praise (both rec), overstim, kind of switch!Minho?? like hes a dom in this but theres parts that are kinda subby idk, petnames (bunny, bub, baby,etc..), degradation and kind of dumbification, cum eating, handjob, hair pulling and a little face grabbing but nothing too mean, Minho has a filthy mouth, lmk if i missed anything!!

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i could not bring myself to post it because i kept wanting to add or change things but... listen i just cant get this out of my head and yeah... i need to suffocate between this mans thighs asap.

You could not be blamed for the thoughts swimming around in your head nor for your failure to participate in any of the conversations taking place around you. Your boyfriend knew exactly what he was doing to you and if anything he was reveling in your frustrations. A conversation that took place only a few days ago comes to your mind as you trace your eyes across your current infatuation. 

“Lee Minho, do you know just how well you wear those pants?” His ears instantly turned bright red at your comment, only then realizing the intense stare you had lingering on his lower half. Your greedy eyes were savoring every inch of his muscular calves, bulging thighs, and cute little ass wrapped tightly in his faux leather pants. He coughed slightly, partially because his throat was suddenly feeling very dry, and partially because he wasn't used to you being so forward. 

Throughout your relationship Minho has always been the initiator, him being the one to ask you out on a date, asking you to officially be his girlfriend, and every minor or major step you took together. 

One thing he has always found endearing about you was how easily flustered you become each time he compliments you or offers you light teasing touches. More often than not, when he was fucking you into oblivion and whispering filthy things to you, you couldn't even respond in full sentences.

So hearing you make such a bold statement with a borderline predatory look in your eyes sent a chill up his spine.

“Quit looking at me like I’m a piece of meat..” he rolled his eyes as yours stayed zeroed in on his legs. “My eyes are up here bub.” His fingers lightly gripped your jaw, forcing you to readjust your focus.

You found your mind running wild with ideas and images that you would be embarrassed to admit to. Yet the smirk on your boyfriend's lips told you that the attention you were giving him wasn't unwanted - despite his comments. 

“Guess I'll have to start wearing these more often.” 

Leading you to where you are now, a mutual friends birthday party, surrounded by acquaintances chatting about who knows what while your horrible tease of a boyfriend practically eye fucks you from across the room. You would be a liar and a hypocrite if you didn’t admit to also eye fucking him, but with the way he looked tonight you couldn’t be held responsible. He was wearing a silky navy blue button up leaving the top few buttons left undone, along with a thick black choker wrapped deliciously around his throat. In addition to those ridiculously tight leather pants, his messy long hair was only adding to how insanely hot he looked.

You always found him attractive, whether that be when he first wakes up early in the morning, after getting his hair and makeup done for a shoot, even after a week long of exhausting schedules when he was on the brink of collapsing. You adored every side of him, the good, the bad, and the ugly (although you would argue that he doesn’t have an ugly side). But something about the way the material wrapped around his thigh muscles made him feel like a present you were just dying to unwrap.

He had been kind enough to tease you thoroughly before leaving your shared apartment, leaving you needy and slightly cranky from not getting what you wanted. 

For the past hour you had been texting him, begging for him to take you home and ruin you. Each of your pleas were ignored, the words read almost taunting you as he made casual talk with his friends. 

doris mom🐱💛: min please

doris mom🐱💛: i want to go home  

doris mom🐱💛: you have no idea how bad i need you right now

doris mom🐱💛: i’ll do anything please min 

doris mom🐱💛: ur being such a meanie

You felt your heart beat faster as you saw three dots pop up to tell you he was typing. 

cat butler🐱💙: oh? 

cat butler🐱💙: how am i being a “meanie” ??

You wanted to scream at that being the message he decided to respond to but you had his attention and you were not going to lose it. 

doris mom🐱💛: ur being a meanie for not letting me suffocate between your thighs and choke on your cock.

Your head snapped up at the sound of your boyfriend violently coughing - evidently he had taken a sip of his drink right before you had pressed send. You immediately ran to him, despite his coughing already beginning to cease, and offered a gentle hand on his back. Rubbing soothing circles between his shoulders as you gave him the most innocent look you could. 

“Min what happened? You should be more careful, I don't want you to choke!” 

He shot you a quick glare before covering it up with a sickly sweet smile and wrapping an arm around your waist. 

He lifted his drink to his lips again to take another sip before the plastic cup tumbled out of his grasp and spilt all over your front. You gasped loudly as the room temperature liquid seeped through your dress, your eyes immediately looking to see if it was being stained. 

“oops” You could almost hear the smirk that your boyfriend was fighting to keep off of his face. “baby! I'm so sorry it just slipped out of my hand!” 

While you knew that he intentionally spilt his drink all over you, you were unsure if it was as payback for making him choke or if it was an excuse to leave. He quickly rattled off something about needing to get you home to change and said his goodbyes before dragging you out of the party and to his car. You had half a mind to be upset with him for ruining your dress but the idea of finally getting Minho alone took priority in your mind. 

As your boyfriend drove you couldn’t help but continue to stare at the way the flesh of his thighs pooled as he sat in the driver's seat. Without hesitation you reached across the center console to place a hand on his thigh, much like he would normally do to you, even offering it a gentle squeeze. He flinched initially at the contact before releasing a shaky chuckle. “I guess delayed gratification makes you bold.”

“I was serious about wanting to suffocate between your thighs.” You began to gently knead his upper thigh feeling the muscle tighten and relax each time you moved higher. “It’s only fair after I let you spend hours between mine last night.” 

There it was again, the boldness and confidence that Minho wasn’t quite used to seeing out of you. Part of him loved it, happy to see you feeling so comfortable with him, and yet his more dominant side was telling him to put you in your place. He couldn't lie to himself and say that he wasn't enjoying how obsessive you were being. He loved the idea of you craving him so badly that you were willing to bypass your usual shyness to get what you wanted. 

“Careful bunny… you might get more than you bargain for if you keep running that pretty mouth of yours.” 

You watch his knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel harshly, attempting to suppress the gasp that slips from his mouth as you bring your hand over his bulge. The heel of your palm grinds into him just enough to make him squirm but not enough to relieve any real pressure and you watch as his adams apple jumps when he swallows harshly. He quickly reaches down to snatch your wrist and pull your hand away, seemingly suddenly remembering that he was supposed to be the one in charge. 

“Behave until we get home and I might consider fulfilling your requests.”

If you thought he looked good eye fucking you from across the room earlier tonight, you just might have to come up with a new word to describe how he looks right now. He was currently manspreading in front of you, something he does often much to your delight, with his lustful gaze staring down at you. You were currently kneeling between his open legs while he was perched comfortably on your living room sofa. Minho lifted his hand to gently pat your head, smoothing your hair down where he had messed it up during the heated makeout session that took place when you entered your apartment. Despite the obvious lust pooling in his eyes you could also spot the adoration that seemed to be present every time he looked at you and that made your heart thump so aggressively you were sure he could hear it.

Because you had spent the entire day teasing each other you knew that the events that were about to take place were more than likely going to be rough and messy, something that was quite common for you and Minho. So you savored every soft look and gentle touch you were currently getting, certain that you wouldn’t be seeing much more of it until the time for aftercare came around. You nuzzled against his thigh while he continued to pet you, turning your head slightly to press soft kisses against the smooth faux leather. A surprised yelp was ripped out of you when he suddenly gripped your hair and pulled you away from him, forcing your line of sight up to his eyes once again. 

“Greedy little bunny… I give you pets after you've done nothing but act like a desperate slut all day and you just can't help yourself.”

“M’sorry Min just wanted to-”

Minho is quick to tighten his grip on your hair while simultaneously grabbing your cheeks and squishing them together, effectively stopping you from speaking.

“I don’t remember asking you to speak?”

The mindless look you give him as you blink slowly at him, your lips smooshed together and your eyebrows furrowed together has his cock twitching against his thigh. 

“You said you wanted to suffocate between my thighs?” You nodded dumbly up at him, the prospect of what he was saying making you salivate. “Go on then bunny… If you can manage to make me cum I’ll consider touching your sloppy little pussy after.”

As soon as you were released from his harsh grip you made quick work of undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants, thankfully he assisted you in tugging them off along with his boxers considering how tightly they hugged him. The instant he was exposed to you, you lurched forward and began pressing kisses and suckling softly on his tanned skin, looking up as he undid the buttons of his shirt. You ran one of your hands up his abdomen feeling his muscles tense beneath your touch while your other hand kneaded the flesh of the thigh you weren't sucking bruises into. His hips shifted forward slightly as he threw his head back, a breathy sigh followed by an appreciative hum told you that he wanted this just as much as you did. You took the opportunity of his hips being so close to the edge of the couch to wrap your arms around him similarly to the way he usually did when he ate your pussy for hours.

 The feeling of your wet tongue dragging up his length distracted him from the way you were holding him spread open for you. Despite desperately wanting to fuck your throat Minho couldn't quite bring himself to put a stop to your teasing, especially when you began to swirl your tongue around his leaking tip. You continued teasing him like this for a while, only offering flicks of your tongue against his slit and lazy drags up and down his throbbing cock. A strangled whine came from Minho as you raked your fingernails across his thigh and simultaneously suctioned your lips around his angry red tip. When you heard the delicious sound you had been waiting for you pulled back to do what you had been imagining since the first time you saw him in those pants. Just as he lifted his head to scold you for your endless teasing, the breath was practically knocked out of his lungs as he felt your tongue press against his hole.

“F-Fuck bunny what are you do- holy shit” 

The hand that you weren’t using to keep his leg open reached up to wrap around his throbbing length, mostly focusing on twisting around the weeping head of his cock. His eyes could barely stay open as they practically crossed trying to process all of the pleasure you were offering him. You switched between gently fucking your tongue into him and occasionally circling it around his rim. Minho could swear he had never moaned so loudly in his life but it was like his brain had shut off and he couldn’t even begin to care how pornographic he probably sounded.

“Such a dirty little slut for me aren't you baby? Fuuuck… keep going just like that bunny you’re making me feel so good.” 

The sounds of his moans and whines combined with the wet squelching sounds and your own satisfied hums that filled the room had you pathetically rubbing your thighs together as you worked. You could feel his heavy cock pulsing in your palm as his hole began to clench and unclench at the prospect of his nearing orgasm. Taking a deep breath you sunk your tongue just a little deeper, until your nose was pressed against him and your access to oxygen was restricted. Adding to the overwhelming pleasure you were giving him you wrapped your hand just a little tighter around his cock, quickening your strokes just enough to have the rope tightening in his stomach. When you began wiggling your tongue deep inside of him he clenched his eyes shut tightly as he felt the rope begin to snap. His moans abruptly stopped as his fingers tangled in your hair, holding you in place as his orgasm violently washed over him. His thighs shook around your head as he came all over his stomach and chest, his hips desperately fucking up into your hand greedily attempting to chase more pleasure.

Only when he felt his eyes begin to water from overstimulation did he nudge your hand away and release the grip he had on your head.

Both of your heavy breaths filled the room as he basked in his post high bliss, enjoying the soft brush of your fingertips against his skin. He flinched slightly as he felt your tongue begin to kitten lick his release off of him, cleaning him up just as he had taught you to.  Once you finished he pulled you up onto his lap, immediately attaching his lips to yours, while whispering praises to you in between each kiss. 

“I think my bunny deserves a reward for her good behavior.” 

[maxiemclaren]

Comforting Logan after the Miami Gp

Comforting Logan

Logan Sargent x reader

a/n First Fic

After placing last for his home race to say he was on edge the night before was an understatement. Returning to your hotel room you tried to reassure him that race day would be better, “Logan I’m telling you it's not your fa-” you falter what you're about to say when he looks at you like someone just accused him of murder, a rage filled energy falling over the hotel room. “Not my fault? NOT MY FAULT!? ARE YOU BLIND!? This is my home race and I couldn’t even have a good qualifying. Seriously y/n, P20 is not where I wanted to be.” You looked at him with sympathy slowly moving towards him, he took a step back and apprehension flickers across his eyes. “I’m not saying that you WANTED to start at P20 but sometimes we have shit qualifyings Logan '' Using his full name to hopefully knock some sense into the boy. He looks down feeling regret that he lashed out at you for just trying to help. “Want to head to bed? I’ll give you extra cuddles” You say while walking towards the room.

Watching the race was nerve-racking. You knew that no matter how hard he would fight for a points position he would still be a little grumpy. So here you were in the garage watching him navigate his way through, your eyes were practically glued to the screen until lap 28 when you needed to go to the bathroom from all the water you drank because of the heat and humidity. When all of a sudden you hear that contact was made between two cars, praying whoever it was is okay. You felt your heart drop when you saw that it was Kevin and Logan, a bubble of anger started to rise within you. You started yelling “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND KEVIN!?” Everyone in the garage turned to look at you with a look of ‘is she okay’ You looked at the replay and it seemed to look like Kevin was pushing past and Logan didn’t see him, granted there was not enough space for two cars in that corner. You know he's going to be so upset that he wasn’t able to continue the race so you head to the drivers room and wait.

He opens the door and sees you and immediately approaches and engulfed you into a hug, quite sobs escape him. You squeeze him tighter and let him release all his emotion, you reassure him “You did what you could my love, you made me so proud today. Hell, you make me proud everyday when you step out of the car unharmed and I get to go home with you.” His sobs just grew louder as he kept murmuring “I just wanted to show them I deserve a spot and chance here, my home race my family is going to be so upset with me. I’m a fucking disappointment” He spits out. Grabbing him by the face your eyes bore into his “You listen to me Logan Hunter Sargent, you are by far not a disappointment. What happened was unfair and frankly not right, Kevin has been all over the place this weekend. You are not to blame for his mistakes” He sniffles and nods his head “I guess so, Kevin has been pretty wild” he manages to chuckle out, slowly calming down. Giving him one last hug before media duties and debriefs, you smack his ass to make him laugh. “Ouch y/n my ass” You laugh “I’m serious though, you making it through a race or anytime you just step in the car, I’m proud of you and will continue to be proud of you even if you have to retire the car.” Heat rising to the back of his neck and ears he looks at you with admiration and love. “Thank you my love, that means the world to me. We will get them next time”

[norizz-nation]

hey if your writing f1 fic/smut, if your comfortable of course, can you write lando and max threesome?

Girl you’re sooo getting this 🤌🏼

Try us baby 💛🧡

Summary: you met lando and max at an after party where u could basically see that lando and max were practically drooling for u. and u liked that, so they gave u a chance to try them both. and get a taste of both of them.

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, spitting kink, deep throat, choking, light bdsm, squirting, slut shaming, face slapping, anal, spanking, dacryphilia, daddy kink, reader is young (suppose 18 or 19)

U were really excited about tonight’s after party because u decided to wear a slightly more slutty outfit that revealed basically all of ur tits, just covering ur nipples. Barely. You just wanted to wear something wild tonight since nothing was happening in ur life. U wore this black skin tight dress with extreme revealed cleavage. You even used some highlighter on ur collarbone to make it even more toned and attractive. After reaching the party u were just having ur first drink as u noticed two guys stare at u and talk with each other. You weren’t really paying much attention to it since the place was kinda bit dark but then u noticed that it was two f1 drivers lando norris and max verstappen. You felt ur heart skip a beat.

After they have talk with each other for a while, while eyeing u up & down. They finally approached u and u smiled looking at them. “Want another drink?” Max asked. “Um no im alright” you could feel lando scanning every single part of ur body, technically drooling. You just smirked and said “well are u not gonna say anything?” Lando was pretty zoned out. “Mate?” Max called. Lando then snapped out of it as he answered “yeah?” “You seemed zoned out man.” Max said. You were just looking back and forth at them, trying to guess what are they actually trying to do here. “I mean she’s really beautiful, so i got zoned out” lando explained. “Yeah true she is” max said.

You were just confused “what are you guys doing here tho? trying to rizz me up or something?” You laughed a little. “I mean you can give us a try tho, right?” Max said as he brushed his thumb on ur cheeks coming closer to you. Your heart started to race, as u looked up at him, max was smirking at you.

You were currently at max’s apartment. Making out with lando, his tongue was so dominant and needy for you. As max was pulling your dress down to the floor so then you were just wearing your underwear. Lando then grabbed your face and made you look at him as he said “do you want us to try you baby?” You nodded desperately, just wanting to get fucked by these two. “Yes please, just fuck me already” “oh you’re such a slut, aren’t you?” Max said. “Get on your fucking knees, now” max ordered and you did as he said.

You started to jerk them both as fast as u could making you tits bounce more and more. Then you focused on max still jerking lando’s dick. You sucked on max’s dick, but only the tip. And max pushed your head further, so then you are taking him full. “Suck me good baby, i know you can take it. Suck it nice and well.” You kept on deep throating him while jerking off lando. After few thrusts inside your mouth, max pulled his dick out and slapped your face hard that legit burned your cheek and you whined, almost crying. As now lando started to face fuck you “yes baby, take it all, just like that” you could feel tears rolling down your cheeks as you kept on deep throating him. “Oh youre such a slut for us” lando said as he grabbed u by your neck and choked you a little making you winch in pain but also pleasure.

“Get on your hands and knees, come on” lando ordered as u did what he said. Max came closer to your mouth, caressing your cheek and lando was behind you pulling your underwear down. You took max’s dick like a good girl and bopped your head back and forth, drool dripping down your chin and tits, giving him the sloppiest blowjob ever. As you felt lando’s hands on your ass, touching you softly and suddenly spanking you so hard that you winched with max’s dick inside your mouth. Lando spanked you again and you almost cried again. “Look at her max, she’s such a sensitive little slut” lando said as he with out any warning went inside of you. Already starting with a fast pace that made you roll your eyes while you were deep throating max. He was fucking you so hard that they could hear muffled screams, although you were deep throating max. Max then pulled away and slapped your face as if it was a reward from him, and you were loving every single thing at this point.

Lando was laying in the bed as you were riding his dick in reverse cowgirl, taking him full inside your ass while max was fingering your pussy hard and fast. Pumping three fingers inside of you. Making it all too much for you to take. As you could feel something different coming. You were so dumbfounded, you couldn’t speak all you could do was cry and scream. “Ahh f-fuck daddy i-i think im g-gonna squirt, nghh f-fuck fuck” you could feel max fingering you harder than before as you screamed and squirted all over his hands and also on lando’s thighs making everyone wet from your squirt. You were crying so much, because the pleasure was too much for you.

Max was now fucking your pussy while you wrapped your legs around his hips as lando was face fucking you again. “Fuck, you’re so wet and tight” max said as he slapped you clit frequently making you groan in pain. He was fucking you so good and you were seeing stars in front of you. “Fuck daddyyy” “you like that huh?” Max was thrusting inside you deeper. As you knew you were gonna cum “ohh d-daddy i-im” “you’re gonna cum huh?” You could just nod as he thrust hard inside you making you grab the bedsheets as you screamed. You came so hard that your body was numb as you reached your high.

“Come on, on your knees” lando patted your cheek as you did get on your knees. Sucking lando while jerking max off. After a while they both came on ur face, some landed in your mouth as you swallowed them all and others were all over your face. “You’re such a good little slut” max said as he caressed your jawline and lando kissed your forehead.

A/N: requests are open! feel free to ask what you want me to write! luv you ❤️

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 020: ‘Red Thong, Party’s On!’ (Epilogue)

a/n: pov you’re back at hellfire, but this time you’re sharing the stage with eddie, stripping while he plays a song for you to dance to 🤭🤭♥️ (SURPRISE AT THE END) it’s been a WILD ride my loves, thank you all so much for the support for CMWYW. i hope we all continue to create more beautiful things together. readers, writers, artists, creatives of all kinds keep the world going round. 🤟🏼💋 all my love, maddy

MESS WITH HER? SHE’LL FUCK YOU UP

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

CW: strip club behaviors hehe, grinding, pole-dancing, ass-shaking, all that hellfire goodness, implications that shy girl c*me on eddie's guitar

word count: 990 words

♡

Mom always used to say, "Inside of you, there are two wolves: a good one and a bad one. Depending on which mouth you feed, one will triumph the other.”

She left out one thing, however: sometimes being bad feels so fucking good.

“We’ve got a verrry special treat for you tonight folks!” the DJ announces. “She took a break for a little while but now she is BACK… and here to stay with us, FOREVER! Put your hands together for the ONE, the ONLY — Hellfire’s Princess — SHYYY GIIIIRL!”

And the crowd goes wild.

You emerge from the side stage in your glimmering scarlet set, flipping your plump, bouncy locks around as you dip your hips to the beat. Your regular customers swoon as you blow them kisses, and the petty kisses you issue to the Hellfire Girls (they came to pick up their severance checks) leave them shaking in their stilettos.

"WOOO, HARGROVE!" Nancy cheers for you backstage, dancing to the song as she curls Nina's hair.

"LET 'EM KNOW, BABY!" Nina shouts after her.

You acknowledge them with a wink, giving one to Chrissy as well as she cheers for you on the opposite side of the stage, bouncing up and down in her sexy Hellfire cheer uniform.

“Let’s go, Shy Girl!” ‘Cherry’ cheers as she waves her pom-poms in the air. "LET'S GOOOO!"

She's hot! Can’t stop! Up on stage doing shots!

You shake your ass when the song calls on it, grinding your hips to the beat to match the lyrics as they come. The crowd hoots and hollers as you dance, showering you in dollar bills as you make the pole your bitch for the night.

“YEAAAH!” Max cheers. “That’s my sister!”

As you glide down the cylindrical silver steel, you wave to the crowd and thank them all for coming out.

“Thank you! Aww, thanks so much! OMG, how are you? Long time no see!”

But just because you’re doing your thing on stage doesn’t mean you aren’t paying attention to the happenings beneath you. Because while you have a bird’s eye view of Vecna’s Lair, you can’t help but fix your gaze on Lucas, who is dressed rather sharper than usual tonight, going up to Maxine in attempts to ‘rizz her up’.

“I see spiciness runs in the family,” Lucas remarks to her as they stand beside each other in Vecna’s Lair.

The self-proclaimed 'Dark Chocolate' shoots her an awkward wink, to which Max responds with a grimace on her face.

“Genetics wasn’t playing ‘bout y’all,” Lucas continues. "You're looking mighty fine tonight, Max."

“Thanks. I guess,” Max shrugs, refusing to entertain it. “But, if you knew anything about family dynamics and DNA, you’d know she’s my step-sister."

"Psh," Lucas scoffs. "Yeah! Yeah, I knew that."

"Course you did," she jeers. "Stalker."

“Stalker?! I thought we were friends.”

Max rolls her eyes. “Whatever this is, is far from platonic.”

She begins to strut away, giving Lucas the opportunity to race after her. And Sinclair wastes no time, pushing himself past the sea of sweaty men to catch up to the beautiful redhead in front of him.

“So there’s a chance we can be more than friends?!”

You chuckle as you watch it unfold from the stage. Then you turn to everyone else.

Argyle and Jonathan give you two stoned-filled waves hello. You wave back. Henry whose the designated bone-snapper bouncer tonight blows you a kiss. You catch it and return the favor. Mike and Will don't even give you the time of day.

You then turn your attention to Dustin who is both head-banging to the song, and holding up a lazily written message on the black screen of his phone: “I AM LOOKING RESPECTFULLY”. You can't help but giggle. It's like he's a mini Eddie.

Speaking of your boyfriend, your eyes dart back to the side stage where you meet Eddie’s gaze.

She likes to pull my hair when I make her grind her teeth.

You watch as the curly-haired, metalhead-turned-strip-club-owner eyes you steadily, situating his guitar around himself, giving the body of his NJ Warlock one more wipe down with a cloth.

He smirks to himself, satisfied at the thought that only you two know why that guitar needed wiping down in the first place. But he’s mostly pleased with the fact that, despite the long list of handsome, eligible bachelors after your heart, the passionate, down-to-earth, sexy, siren of a woman that is you, is all his.

My girlfriend's a dick magnet. MY girlfriend…

Eddie then takes to the stage, using the same fingers he’ll use to ravage you tonight to strum the chords of the sexy guitar solo of the song — you know, the song about a guy…..with a hot stripper girlfriend…..whose seducing everyone around her while she does her thing…..in that beautiful red set.

“HOLY SHIT!” someone from the crowd raves, causing Eddie’s eyes to light up like a little kid. “DUET OF THE CENTURY!”

You’ve healed so many parts of Eddie that he was too scared to explore: Love after Isabelle. Showing him that self-care is just as important as caring for Wayne. Encouraging him to find a hobby outside of Hellfire that didn't include doing payroll or grocery shopping. And healing his inner teenager by letting him play on stage with you, as he relives his glory days as the guitarist and frontman of Corroded Coffin one last time.

And as Eddie continues to strum, he stays thinking of you. He couldn’t wait to heal more parts of himself…with 'Shy Girl' Hargrove by his side.

“So,” you pant, edging closer to your boyfriend as the music draws on. "What's next after this?"

Eddie smirks. As the instrumental allows, he presses you against his body, kissing you softly against the lips before trailing all the way down your neck. Your breath hitches in arousal as he hums against you.

“Whatever you want.”

The End

SIKE! King Steve has entered the chat… 😉

CALL OUT MY NAME ♛

(Book #2 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Series)

CEO!bachelor!steve × fem!college grad!reader

MODERN AU • 18+ | BOOK #1 (e.m.)

slight age gap (Steve is 31, reader is 23); reader goes by the nickname "Sweets"

*loosely inspired by sara cate’s salacious players club*

Summary: 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄. Steve Harrington has the WORST luck with the ladies. His high school sweetheart left him for another dude, his former fuck buddy is dating his roommate, and his dream girl is a lesbian. King Steve is losing hope. That is until he meets you — a newly graduated university student from Seattle — when your paths cross on a fateful night in Sin City. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas... that is until your risky business trickles over to Hawkins, Indiana, a town your best friend knows of a little too well.

theme song: call out my name by the weeknd

tag list is open 💌✨

PREVIEW

♛

Winter 2024

“WATCH OUT INDIANAPOLIS — you're about to get... absolutely SOAKED!”

The booming voice of a man in Steve’s bedroom stirs him awake.

Letting out a ferocious yawn, The King rubs his eyes free of the annoying crust in the corner of his sockets, flopping around one more time before doing his routine stretch.

“Google,” Steve commands. “Turn off the TV.”

The TV immediately switches off. It’s nothing personal to meteorologist Marcus Bailey, but if Steve ever needed an accurate forecast of Indianapolis, all he would have to do is look outside his penthouse window. And that, after brushing his teeth, is just what he does.

"G'morning Indy,” he sighs happily on his balcony before going back inside.

Steve then makes his way over to the kitchen to fix himself some breakfast.

“Google,” he calls out again. “Open the curtains, please.”

Google replies:

“Opening curtains. Good morning — Steve.”

"Google, what's my schedule looking like today?" "Google, text Dustin." “Google, what is the weather looking like in Nevada?” “Google, turn on my shower tunes.”

The best thing about not living with Eddie Munson anymore, is that Steve can shamelessly sing Amy Winehouse in the shower without being hounded about it.

“We only saaaid GOODBYE, with WORDS!” Steve sings, confidently off-key. “I died a hundred times! You go back to her, and I goooo baaack toooo…”

"Scanning fingerprint...”

an automated voice announces at the entrance of Steve's walk-in closet.

Swish...

The door slides open. Sauntering his way inside, Steve ventures for some slick black athleisure down to the shoes, his usual musky cologne, and some matching sunglasses (despite the gloomy forecast prediction).

Black. 🎶

Steve Harrington is ready for the day.

---

"Google, make reservations for 3 people at Tony's Steakhouse at 7pm please."

All Steve had left to do for the day now was grocery shop. Which was always a hassle. Because sometimes, the store doesn't have the specific brand he's looking for so the shopper has to opt for an alternate version. Or sometimes, the shopper assigned to him that day chooses produce that is nearing its expiration date making every fruit in his bag a mushy mess. It doesn't happen too often, but it sure feels inconvenient as hell when it does. There are worse problems in life though, so Steve really can't complain.

*Ring, ring. Ring, ring*

The very distinct and custom ringtone has Steve bolting across the room to answer the call. One of his best friends was on the other line.

"Yello?" he says into the phone.

"Hey, it's Shy Girl," comes a voice. "Eddie and I are pulling in."

"Pull off to the side. Valet's got it. I'll send you guys up."

A bottle of cabernet sauvignon a la Steve awaits the pair when they make their way over. Consider it a Tony's pre-game.

"GameWorld stock is up 4% today,” Steve's buddy, and owner of Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Eddie Munson announces as the two clink glasses. "I don’t have much faith in it though, figure I’ll get my pie slices from actual grocery stores. Like Meijer.”

“Everyone's always gonna need groceries,” Steve points out. "Definitely. Just don't day trade. Not now."

"Ooh, you hear that, Eds?" Shy Girl nudges him. "You gotta be careful where you put your money."

"I gotta be careful with my money, period," Eddie smirks. "You're a danger to my pockets, angel."

"Oh but you love me," she says.

"Yeah," Eddie gives in, grabbing his lover's dainty digits, trailing his fingers across hers, and rubbing the glistening rock that took up most of her left hand on the distal side. "I sure do."

"I'm just... so proud of us," Steve sappily reflects. "So much has happened over the past two years and we've all come so far."

"Yeah," Shy Girl agrees. "And it's about fucking time we celebrate."

"I agree," Eddie chimes in, raising his glass once again. "This weekend trip is going to be... one for the books."

"Viva Las Vegas," Steve toasts. "Cheers."

"Viva Las Vegas!"

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

Black and red.

They're the two colors that occupy your closet the most. But of course, after graduating from Washington State University (or Wazzu, for short), you expected nothing less.

You could do with some more sequins though, you think to yourself as you pack your bags.

"What do you think of this, Sweets?"

Peering over your shoulder, you see that your best friend, Elle has started festivities early, managing to hold two glasses of champagne in one hand, and six-inch stilletoes in the other.

"Can't take the party out of the girl, that's for damn sure," you respond.

When you left Seattle to attend WSU Pullman, Elle was your only friend in business class. Mainly because the class was predominantly for dudes, but eventually you found out that you two have a lot in common.

Elle is everything you would want in an older sister figure: she is both book smart and wise, she is sexy, and she eats men for breakfast. And, now that she's about to celebrate the launching of her lingerie business (along with her Dirty 30s Era), and you're about to enter your new-grad era, you two are hitting up Las Vegas to go ham together one last time.

It's all so bittersweet. You owe everything to the Warrens, having taken you in when you were a lost undergrad. It also sucked quite a bit not having a support system after graduating high school. You and Elle were all each other has. Which makes this inevitable separation so much more painful.

"Are you sure you're okay with Vegas by the way?" you question. "I know since the split, being surrounded by gorgeous girls 24/7 can kinda be triggering.”

"Don't worry about it, love," she shakes it off. "The past is in the past. This is a new era of me."

Cheers to that. Clinking your airport-pregame champagne glasses with one another, you raise a toast to yourselves, celebrating how far the two of you have come over the past four years.

"To friendship."

"To friendship."

"To being elegant and educated."

"To elegance and education."

"And to being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives."

You giggle as you raise your glass of champagne even higher.

"To being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives," you two take a sip at the same time. "And no matter how near and no matter how far, we're always gonna be besties."

"I love you, Sweets."

"I love you too, Isabelle."

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @mediocredreams @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay @xblueriddlex @maskofmirrors @babyloutattoo89 @queenofhawkins @feral-pumpkin-energy @bl0ssomanddie

divider from: @plum98

[britcision]

GUESS WHAT FRIENDS I HAVE BEEN DOING MATH AGAIN no one is going to be happy about it 🥳

1) by the time Delgal reached the surface (6 years pre series), Senshi had been living in the dungeon for 44 years.

He coulda visited on the way up, and probably passed the veggie-golems

2) Thistle kept his dungeon at level 1 (per the canaries’ dungeon guide) for almost 1000 years

Mithrun’s entire span as a dungeon lord was over in 5

Now, Thistle’s did also progress pretty fast from level 2 to 5… but it still took 6 years

This is actually a super similar timeline, especially because we know Mithrun’s dungeon never hit 5… and we don’t actually know what level it got to, since it all depends on when he became a monsterfucker

(His lover’s snake half is referenced here around level 2 - see the gold scrapers

We know that’s the lover because they are always drawn with the unique shirt and hair and the lover is never depicted with legs, which is wild

However, it’s still possible this is a chimera rather than a lamia or naga, which is a level 4 problem… which is when the Canaries usually come dungeon busting anyway)

Of course, the Winged Lion was boxed for the entire span of the dungeon’s rapid development and the Goat wasn’t, which might account for a difference in speed… if Thistle’s dungeon grew much slower

Mithrun, with a fully active demon, didn’t hit the same goal in damn near the same timeframe, so we can infer:

- approximately a 5-6 year turnover on dungeons coming from level 2 to level 4-5 (sooooo that’s a lotta dungeon lords, especially if a change of lord usually forces a reset - Marcille and Laios sure didn’t tho)

- the demon is all one entity, so the cumulative effect from other dungeons around the world may have been used to strengthen the Island’s dungeon

- sinking the continent around your dungeon is a damn good way to keep it contained

- Mithrun was a mid-tier dungeon lord at best, “I wish I never took this job” is a weak ass desire especially when compared to Thistle and Marcille’s desires to Defeat Death and probably why he got spit out - his desire to fuck the demon up seems to be a lot more powerful than a moment of weakness in front of a mirror

(The demon even said it didn’t want to finish Thistle right away and save some for later; it ate the last scrap by accident because it was too dang good so we do know it can choose to leave someone behind… for A Reason:)

- the demon fucking angler-fished Mithrun’s ass by spitting him out, leaving behind only the desire to come back and find the demon again, and letting that build for 40 years. He didn’t reach Thistle levels of maturation but oh boy that’s an intentionally cultivated snack - so how many more of the dungeon lords in the group meeting had the same path

[penny00dreadful]

Okay, okay, okay listen.

Remember when we were all obsessed with Steddie Legally Blonde a while back? Yes, I’m still thinking about it, leave me alone. And I adore everything I’ve read. It’s all so fantastic.

But I had a thought because what if we switched it up a little? I’m going mainly off of the musical here, so bear with. 

So what if instead of having Steddie as Elle and Emmett, we instead have them as Paulette and UPS Guy/Kyle??? Like??? It fits, right???

But then, but THEN who do we have as Elle/Emmett?

Buckingham.

No, but just think of it! 

Or I guess you don’t really need to because I’ve thought of it enough for all of us and it goes like this:

(OMG you guys I blacked out and when I woke up this thing was 3.1k long written over a few hours. I haven't edited this at all so please be gentle about typos/tense changes etc. The fever just took me.)

Chrissy is your quintessential girly girl. She is Elle Woods. She’s blonde, pretty, cheerleader, very feminine and happy where she is in life, President of her Sorority with her besties by her side and her guy who is… well he’s as good as any guy could be, right?

Jason is handsome, rich, well connected, he treats her with affection and he humours her when she has some pretty wild, out there ideas. 

But then it happens and they break up because apparently having a girly girl for a wife just wouldn’t look good if he’s gonna live his life the way he wants to. Lawyer, his own practice, running for office. 

Apparently her blonde hair and boobs would hold him back which, what the fuck??? 

What does that have to do with anything?

They love each other, right? That surface stuff isn’t supposed to matter. At all! They’re supposed to be together no matter what because they… they love each other?

Well fuck that noise, no one tells Chrissy Cunningham she’s too fucking blonde to do anything which is a hypocritical ass thing to say because has Jason looked in the fucking mirror recently?

Different fucking rules, apaprently. 

Well, no more.

She’s gonna fuck up law school right along side him and she’s gonna wear fucking pink while doing it too!

And like, everything is going fine. 

Chrissy’s not stupid, she knows how she’s perceived by people before they get to know her. 

Vapid, bimbo, perky, blonde.

Like that’s an insult.

It’s just harder now that she’s away from her girls, gays and theys back home. And everyone here seems to think that the best way to live their lives is to look boring as shit while doing it along with tearing each other down.

She fucking hates it, but she’s determined to see it through. 

It helps that she seems to have found the one person on the whole of the fucking east coast who actually listens to what’s coming out of her mouth rather than just paying attention to the hair on her head or staring at her tits.

Robin is so strange.

She’s different in such a refreshing way, it’s like being able to breathe clean air for the first time in years.

And she’s fucking sharp. And sweet. And so, so comforting. 

Chrissy would have never managed to survive the depression of those first few weeks without her.

And like, she’s not ignorant to the fact that Robin sometimes does look at her boobs but at the same time it just feels different coming from a woman than it does a man. It doesn’t feel so objectifying.

Instead of putting Chrissy on edge it makes her feel a little smug. A little proud of herself, it makes her feel attractive and desired in a way she hasn’t felt in a very long time. 

Is that sexist? To prefer the attentions of a woman over a man when both do it just fine for her?

Chrissy’s not exactly sure, but she knows she enjoys it when it’s coming from Robin.

So maybe it’s a Robin thing. 

Chrissy honestly thinks things are looking up for her. 

Until Jason introduces Nicole. 

His fucking fiancee???

It’s been, like, four months since they broke up.

Nicole hates her guts, she can tell. She thinks she’s some two braincelled idiot who got into Harvard on daddy’s dime and needs to be babied through the simplest of tasks while not understanding how condescending everyone’s been the whole time.

Chrissy fucking understands. She’s been through it all before, but back then she had people by her side. It’s all so fucking childish. The world already hates women enough, Chrissy desperately doesn’t want to be at another womans throat, over a man no less, but Nicole doesn’t seem to feel the same way.

She’s ambitious and cut-throat and dedicated and a little bit terrifying. 

Apart from Robin, she’s on her fucking own out here.

And she needs something. 

Something of home to bring some light back into her life.

So she gets in her car and just drives around the streets hoping something will catch her eye. 

And it does. 

Some tiny little hole in the wall salon with a pride flag out the front that she’s immediately drawn to because god damn it she misses her friends. The girls, the gays, the theys.

As soon as she pulls over she feels both simultaneously like she’s come home and she definitely won’t fit in here, but she’s so emotionally raw at this stage it all kinda ends up converging on her and now she’s standing in front of a mostly empty salon and there’s a guy looking at her and she’s just fucking crying.

Through her blurry vision she can see the guy approaching and she really fucking hopes this isn’t gonna turn into a thing because she just does not have any spoons left to deal with some creep right now. 

But he seems to sense how he’s coming off because he becomes a little more effeminate from one step to the next.

“You okay, honey?” He asks, big brown eyes wide with concern and a hand covered in rings hovering over her shoulder, not touching. He has a cigarette in the other hand, held away to keep the smoke from reaching her, his arms covered in ink but Chrissy wants nothing more than a cigarette right now.

Or, that’s kind of a lie, but she’d love one in all honesty. She hasn’t smoked in so long. 

The guy spots her eyeing it, sticking the cigarette back between his plush lips and needing to use both hands to pull his carton from his pants considering they’re so tight.

“Bad day?” He hands her one and Chrissy ends up breaking down all over again.

She tells him that it hasn’t just been a bad day, but a bad half a year, really. She tells him all about Harvard and Jason and her professors and Robin and by the end of her ranting they’re sitting back in the breakroom of the salon. They guy’s name is Eddie, she learns and despite his mean and scary exterior Chrissy thinks he might be the gentles person she’s met in this whole god forsaken city.

He holds her hands between his and listens to her. Actually hears her talk and pays attention and is concerned and attentive and she loves him for it. 

He helps her find her confidence again, at least for the rest of the day. They commiserate about how they both stick out like sore thumbs in their communities and how people need to just kinda get over it.

He encourages her not to let the normies win, do go hang out with Robin, to go kick ass and she’s just wondering how on earth she can ever repay the favour when they hear

“Knock, knock.” 

Coming from the front of the salon.

Eddie’s whole face drains of colour before immediately turning red and he bolts up from his chair, stumbling out of the staffroom and moving back behind the receptionists desk.

Chrissy gets to watch in real time as all of Eddie’s incredible confidence and easy lightheartedness disappears into a vat of nerves mostly hidden by cheeky flirtation as he twirls a lock of hair around his finger and bats his eyelashes at the Hot UPS Guy who looks equally as charmed. 

When the guy, Steve, has to get back to his route, Eddie practically melts against the desk as soon as he’s out of sight. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one who needs help.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at her but smiles anyway. “I had that handled just fine.”

Over the next few months, she and Eddie get closer, Eddie and Steve stay exactly where they were that first day and she and Robin are quickly approaching best friends level.

But Chrissy is starting to come to terms with the fact that maybe she wants a little more than to be best girly-girl friends with Robin and maybe she wants to stick her tongue down her throat about it. 

The two of them are practically attached at the hip, spending all day at classes together, alternating between their respective rooms to study late into the night, ending up in the same bed together and waking up together in the morning. 

Chrissy is almost, completely, entirely sure that this is all very not platonic but it’s so difficult to tell.

She’d be constantly sleeping over with her friends back home, hugging, kisses on cheeks, cuddling in bed or when watching movies, just girly things.

But this feels different. Is it different?? Or is this just how Robin is with all her female friends, the same way it’s always been how Chrissy was with her friends back home. How can she tell if it’s going from platonic to romantic??

And all of that needs to go on the backburner anyway because they’re being put on a real life, for realsies you guys case. And if they fuck up this case they could be at fault for someone spending the rest of their fucking life in prison for something they didn’t do??

Unacceptable.

And after Chrissy finds out their client used to be on the same cheer team as her? It was all over. No way was she gonna let her go to prison just because everyone thinks a pretty young woman couldn’t possibly love someone a little older than her. 

Not on Chrissy’s watch. 

But first she has to deal with Robin’s wardrobe because they professor is insistent that all the women wear skirts and tights and Robin is not having it.

Neither is Chrissy to be fair, so she takes Robin out to the most lavish place she can, decks them both out in the fiercest looking pantsuits they can get their hands on, refusing to back down.

It comes as a surprise to both of them when Nicole stands with them in solidarity as well and now their professor is both outnumbered and losing his arguments with only Jason on his side about this and they fucking win.

It’s only a small win but it still feels fantastic. 

Riding her high of winning that small fight, she bursts into the salon and informs Eddie that he is going to either kiss or ask out Steve the next time he sees him and when Eddie reacts like she just said she was going to shave all of his hair off she refuses to hear it. 

Because the thing is Eddie is pretty, really pretty and she knows that Steve knows it, but she doesn’t think that Eddie himself is really aware of it. And despite his prettiness, he’s all awkward elbows and knees. 

So she gives him some tips and shows him how to highlight certain things about himself, the long legs, the tattooed arms, the hip bones. Even his cute little bum. She teaches him how to subtly pull at his clothes in conversation so some skin is exposed or his tiny little waist is highlighted. She teaches him how to use his eyes to go in for the kill.

He doesn’t seem to think it’ll work but she is almost certain it will. 

And it’s confirmed for her when she gets a call later that night from Eddie who sounds fucking over the moon and completely bewildered by the fact that Steve likes him back??? Has done for months?? And they had some incredible dirty nasty sex in the salon after it closed for the night and how they’re going to the movies tomorrow??

Eddie swears he’s gonna send her the biggest fuck off fruit basket he can find. 

Everything is looking up for her, especially after she has such a major win in court, figuring out one of the prosecutors witnesses had perjured himself on the stand (without outing him to the whole damn court, thankfully).

Or at least everything was looking up for her until she found herself alone in a room with her professor and she felt the energy in the room shift before it happened. 

His hands were on her before she could do anything about it and she cracked him across the face for it before she could even think about what this could do to her legal career going forward. 

Because that was the reality of it, wasn’t it? 

Either allow herself to get assaulted or destroy her career before it even started. 

She didn’t know when her priority had shifted from getting Jason back to actually pursuing this as a future career. But she had found to her own surprise she loved it. She adored it actually. 

And now…

Now it would all be gone. 

Jason had seen, of course he had and he was less than kind about it because apparently it made more sense that she had fucked her way into Harvard than had actually been smart enough to get there on her own. 

She couldn’t stomach anything Nicole could possibly have to say to her but if the way she was glaring at Jason with barely concealed rage after that comment was anything to go by, Chrissy didn’t need to worry too much about that.

She just wanted to go. To get out. She needed to get out. And she would have gotten away scott free if Robin hadn’t been hanging around waiting for her.

Robin’s face broke into a bright smile but that quickly slipped away when she saw the state Chrissy was in. She was all sweet concern and care and affection but Chrissy couldn’t fucking deal with it at that moment, she couldn’t face her.

She couldn’t face Robin who would find out what a fool of herself she’d made believing in Chrissy, when Chrissy had thrown all of their hard work away.

Because no one would ever fucking see her as a person. She was just a piece of ass.

So she ran.

She didn’t even realise where she was running to until she was standing outside the salon doors again. 

It was late, they were closed, of course they were, why was she here?

She was standing outside the door crying again like she had been the first time and it was all just so fucking stupid-

“Chrissycakes?”

She was enveloped in Eddie’s arms before she could even blink, being ushered inside and steered back to the staffroom, same as that first time. 

There were beer bottles and take out containers over the table and Steve sitting at the table and oh, she’d interrupted something hadn’t she? 

What a fucking way to officially meet one of her best friends new boyfriend right?

But they were so sweet. 

They sat and listened while she spilled the whole thing, offering at different points to hunt down her professor for her or slash his tires or lose all of his mail or whatever and she was forced to giggle through the tears.

But she shook her head in the end. She was tired. She was sick of having to defend herself constantly. 

She needed… she needed to go back to where she belonged. 

And she was about to. 

She was about to leave the salon, swear to keep in contact with Eddie because god damn it she loved him now and she was ready to run.

But then there was a hammering at the door and Chrissy poked her head out to see Nicole standing there looking like she was on a fucking crusade. 

And… was that…?

Robin was standing behind her, looking like she was just trying not to get in Nicole’s way.

Eddie grumbled to himself about changing the damn salons opening hours if this was to continue but he unlocked the door anyway.

Nicole burst in all fire and determination, shoving her finger directly in Chrissy’s face.

“I hated you. But god fucking damn it if you didn’t prove to me that this is the career you belong in. And I refuse to stand by and see an admirable woman of your smarts and calibre get run over by some small dicked professor with a receding hairline. You’re so much more than that. So c’mon. We’re breaking through that fucking glass ceiling if it kills us.”

Holy shit.

Robin pulled her into a tight hug, warm and comforting and a little too long to be platonic, running a hand through her hair. 

“We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with Chris, but… you deserve to be in that courtroom.” She muttered into her ear and Chrissy could do nothing but nod into Robin’s neck.

She heard Eddie sigh behind her. “Okay if we’re doing this then… I need to make a few calls.”

A few days later Chrissy made her triumphant return to the courtroom. Everyone was there to support her. Eddie, Steve, her besties from back home that Eddie had called, telling them it was a friend emergency and so of course they all came right away along with Robin and Nicole bracketing her on each side. 

And while she could tell the court wasn’t taking her rants on hair care very seriously, when she finally came out with the verbal crackdown, proving the witness was actually the murderer, the gasps from the gallery were enough to feed her for years to come. 

When all was said and done at the celebration later that night, she found herself being approached by Jason.

He told her it was a mistake to let her go, to discard her the way he had and she agreed that yes it was. But his mistakes weren’t her problem anymore. And from the look of it they weren’t Nicole’s problem either. 

Jason surprisingly took it well enough, mentioning that he never really felt the same passion for law that she so clearly possessed. 

She wished him luck with finding what he wanted to do.

But now.

Now she needed to find Robin. 

Chrissy couldn’t take it anymore.

So weaving through the people around her, she grabbed at Robin’s hand, dragging her away from Steve who she had become inseparable with and pushing her into the hallway.

Robin didn’t even have a chance to ask what was happening before Chrissy was on her, pressing her into a wall, holding her close with her hands on either side of her face, kissing her with so much longing and elation and joy and happiness that when she pulled away Robin looked completely dazed. 

Robin blinked slowly a few times before her face broke into a wide grin. 

“Me too.”

[allbark-no-bite]

kiss me and apologize || Carmen Berzatto x reader

summary: from private chef to working in a rundown restaurant in Chicago, your life does a 180 as you try to fit into the world that is the Beef. Richie isn’t helping and Carmen just can’t figure you out

word count: 3.7k

warnings: swearing, mentions of michael’s death/suicide

author’s note: so um i guess i write for the Bear now?? official obsessed with the show and was inspired by all of the great writers that write for Carmy on here :)

"Carmen? The door?"

"What—? Oh yeah, yeah. Sorry."

He turns towards the door, fumbling for the key with numb fingers, his face burning hot.

He wasn't used to anyone else besides himself showing up to the restaurant so early in the morning, and he definitely wasn't used to you and your pink cheeks and and warm smile greeting him at the door. You were a new hire to the Beef, a godforsaken miracle dressed in oversized overalls who had shown up two weeks ago and been hired by Sydney on the spot.

She had been smitten with you from the start, dead set on hiring you without so much as a second interview.

"—studied in Copenhagen, worked at multiple Michelins in New York. I mean look at this, Carmen. She's a private chef in the Hamptons. We would be stupid not to hired her."

And you were great. You are great. Except for the fact that you're really fucking distracting.

"You sure you got it, chef?"

Carmen can't even blame the heat rising from his cheeks from the cold at this point because his hands are sweating as he jiggles the door knob that somehow always seems to get jammed at the worst possible moments. This is one of those moments.

Finally, he hefts his weight against the door while twisting the knob and it busts open. A muffled snort escapes you from behind him. Carmen steps inside, holding the door open for you with a small wave of his hand. "Sorry. I'm sure this crap isn't what you were expecting when you applied here—"

He's rambling, stomach twisting in knots. His nerves always screw up his stomach—maybe he'll pop a few Tums before—

"It's fine, Camren," you assure him, stepping in from the cold, body pressing against his in the small entry way. "I like it here."

I like you.

"Yo, am I interrupting something, cousin? You and the princess wanna take that shit somewhere else?" Richie's shout can be heard from all the way across the parking lot, and it makes Carmen visibly cringe.

"Fuck off, cousin," Carmen mutters, reluctantly breaking away from you.

Still standing in the doorway, you huff, whatever moment you and Carmen had shared broken by Richie's arrival. The taller man stomps up the front steps, shaking snow from his boots.

So far, he had been the only staff member you found unbearable. Even Tina had warmed to you after a few weeks and now took great pleasure in listening to your elaborate stories as a private chef. Richie, on the other hand, hated your guts.

"You just gonna stand there and let all the fuckin' cold air in? I'll let Sugar know to take the heating outta your paycheck."

"Fuck off, Richie."

The morning is only the beginning of his wrath.

——

"Richie, you fucking imbecile—"

"Every single time you open your mouth, all I hear is this fuckin' bullshit. Jesus, you're so fuckin' high and mighty with your fancy ass college degree," he sneers, looming over you. If he stepped any closer you would have lacked the self control not to hit him. "You wanna come in here, act like you know everything because daddy sent you to school—"

"You don't have to fucking like me, Richie, but what you're not going to do is push me around and be an egotistical misogynist just because you have a set of balls. So give me my fucking knife."

Richie's hand is in the air beside your head, waving about in wild gesticulation that he does not have your knife, or any fucking knife for that matter. "I don't have your shit!"

With your jaw clenched together, you breathe in deeply through your nose and take in the taller man through narrowed, disbelieving eyes. "Fine." You turn on your heals and storm off. "CARMEN."

Richie throws his hands up and scoffs at your retreating back, yelling after you. "Ohh go ahead, fuckin' call mommy. Like I'm scared of him," he snorts.

"CARMEN!" Your fury only fueled by Richie's taunts, your stride quickens as you shove your way through the chaos of the kitchen, dodging both Sydney and Marcus.

"Woah, chef. What's the matter?" Sydney asks as you whip past her, her hands busy with mashing potatoes, but you don't stop to answer, instead rounding the corner like a woman on a mission.

"CARMEN—"

"—What?!" At the third sound of his name, Carmen finally jerks his head up from his prep station, only to be met with you head on. "What's going on, chef?" he repeats, looking back down to his station after taking in your vexed disposition and gathering that no one's dying. He puts on these sort of metaphorical blinders once he's in the kitchen and nothing, not even you, is going to distract him from what he does best. He becomes an entirely different animal in the kitchen.

"That fucking dickwad has my knife and he won't give it back. How am I supposed to—"

Still urgently chopping carrots, Carmen cuts you off. "Chef, just get another knife," he instructs, stepping around you to dump a pile of sliced carrots into the bin.

His dismissal throws you for a loop and leaves you open mouthed, protest caught in your throat. Just this morning he had been stuttering nervously, cheeks flushed as you stood waiting for him to unlock the staff door. Now he's biting and abrasive, domineering in the way he takes control of the kitchen. You know he's just doing his job, doing whatever it takes to keep his head above the water—keep everyone's head above the water, but right now you want to scream at him. "Just tell him to—"

"Yes, Chef," he provides, indicating that he's done refereeing yours and Richie's squabble. He moves across the station so that you have to step sideways to avoid being in his way.

"But I—"

"Yes, Chef?" Carmen effectively cuts you off with a hard stare, momentarily stopping his urgent chopping. His blue eyes are fixating despite their look of wild urgency.

When it becomes obvious that arguing your point further is going to get you nowhere, you nod, growling a reluctant, 'Yes, Chef.'

If Carmen notices your attitude, he either pointedly ignores it or is too busy shouting at Tina about onions to care. You grab a knife laid out at one of the empty stations, purposefully shoving Richie as you round the corner.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Mommy didn't take your side?" he calls from the expo station "Didn't fuckin' see that coming."

You ignore him, deciding that he's not worth anymore of your energy for the time being. There's an entire rack of ribs that needs to be sliced and it's going to take you twice as long with this poor excuse of a knife.

"Chef, how are those ribs coming?" Sydney calls amidst the kitchen chaos. "Doors open in fifteen minutes."

Glancing at the digital kitchen clock, panic sets into you as you realize just how much time you've lost. "Fuck," you mutter, more to yourself than anyone. "Ahh—I'm going to need at least twenty," you shout back.

"What? What's taking so long?" Sydney asks. You can hear her moving behind you, finishing up with her own prep.

"Yeah, what's takin' so fuckin' long?" Richie chimes in.

Your grip on the knife's handle tightens, but you don't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his words. "I'm working on it, Syd," you promise her, praying you can somehow speak that confidence into existence.

Richie is still running his mouth behind you. "Y'know, maybe you just aren't cut out for this. It's not too late to go back to makin' your fancy little hors d'oeuvres up in New York."

"Screw you, Richie," you mutter, your brow furrowed as you concentrate on cutting through the ribs. The knife is hardly cutting and it's taking everything in you not to just start hacking away and be done with it.

"This ain't a cocktail party. This is a real fuckin' business, and we don't need you over here messin' us up and screwin' around—"

"Screw. You. Richie."

"What was that? Can't hear you, princess," he taunts.

Just as you turn to open your mouth, ready to snap at him, the knife hits a dull spot and slips against your grip, catching your fingers along the way. Immediately you jerk your hand back, biting back a cry. The knife clatters to the ground at your feet.

"Fucking dammit!" you exclaim, clutching your bleeding fingers with your other hand.

"Oh now you've really fuckin' done it," Richie laughs, shaking his head.

You only glare at him before muttering, "Move," as you shove past him. To his credit, he doesn't say anymore as you shoulder him out of the way.

By the time you get to the back sink, there's blood seeping from between your gloved fingers and onto the floor. You have to fight back a whimper as you peal away the latex from your skin.

"Woah, woah— what the hell??"

Hands appear beside you, grabbing your own bloody hand and wrapping it tightly in a clean kitchen rag. You close your eyes, willing yourself not to faint. The pressure stings but serves to staunch the blood flow and relieve some of your dizziness.

When you open your eyes, Carmen's blue ones are staring at you worriedly. "You good, chef?"

You close your eyes again, this time not because you're dizzy, but rather to avoid the intensity of his stare. "Yeah," you manage hoarsely, finding your voice. "Yeah. Just bandage me up okay? I've still got prep to do."

Even with your eyes closed you can still feel his eyes on you. He's so close that you can feel the brush of his body against yours.

"Yeah, okay," he finally says, but you can hear the hesitation in his voice. Immediate loss fills your body as he pulls away, but then he's pressed up against you again, holding your fingers steady as he wraps them up.

It hurts and you want so badly to just let go of the cry of pain and frustration that you're holding back. But instead you bite the inside of your cheek and watch Carmen bandage your fingers like he's done it a hundred times before. When he's done, he draws your hand up to his mouth and tears the tape with his teeth. You force back a swallow when his lips brush your skin.

"This okay, Chef?" he asks, looking up at you with those ridiculously anxious blue eyes—anxious like he's always got somewhere to be, something to do, something on his mind. Now they're focused entirely on you.

Somehow you find your voice. "Y-yeah—yeah, thank you." You pause, still staring at him, not moving. "I, um—I should go finish prep..."

"Okay," he answers softly.

"Okay."

"—Hey." Before you turn to slip out of his office, Carmen calls after you. He raises a fist to his chest, tracing it clockwise over his heart.

I'm sorry.

Your brows furrow at his apology. "Carmen, it wasn't your—"

"Yes. It was," he clarifies, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back against the desk. "I blew you off earlier and you got hurt because of it... So I'm sorry."

From the doorframe, you offer him a half smile.

"Apology accepted, Chef." And then you leave him before he can say anymore, slipping back out into the chaos of rush hour.

——

You do end up finishing you prep before opening. Your fingers hurt like a bitch, and you may need to visit a 24 hour clinic on your way home for a few stitches, but you make it though. Rush hour was hell, your head hurts from both screaming and being screamed at, but now the Beef is closed, the kitchen is quiet, and you can just breathe.

Slowly but surely, everyone files out of the kitchen once they finish their end of the day tasks, bidding you goodbyes and see you tomorrows as they leave—except for Richie, who you flip off once his back is turned.

The bell above the front door chimes, announcing Tina's departure, and then it's just you left tending to your station. Sydney had offered to take care of it for you, seeing as you were down a hand, but cleaning your space at the end of the day gives you peace of mind and time to cool down after all the chaos.

At some point, the lights in the back office click off and heavy foot steps make their way towards the kitchen. Carmen appears beside you, arms crossed as he watches you clean. He's quiet, observing the way you scrub the already pristine table top over and over and over. You don't learn that kind of precision from working in a place like this.

You're an anomaly to him and he doesn't know what to do with you

You certainly don't fit in here with your perfectly refined private school vocabulary and your Michelin star palette and your fucking expensive gold chain necklace that's probably worth more than the rent for his apartment.

"What're you doing here?" he finally asks.

"Wiping my station?" Your voice is leaning on the defensive side and he figures that probably has to do with Richie.

"Exactly," he concedes. "So what are you doing here? Because six months ago you were making fuckin' soufflés in the Hamptons."

This time you actually kind of laugh because that statement is not too far off from the truth. "I don't know, Carmen. I was bored?"

"You don't give up the Hamptons because you're bored."

You look up at him for the first time since he's walked up. There's no bristling anger in your eyes like there was earlier when Richie took your knife—he did and you both know it. You just look at him, really look at him, and then you set down the rag and you nod. "Just like you don't give up Noma?"

Carmen holds your heavy gaze for a while. It's as if some sort of unspoken understanding passes between the two of you and eventually he sighs, nodding. "Right."

You look around at the restaurant surrounding you, the stained floors, the rundown kitchen appliances, the framed 'let it rip' note. "Natalie, uh she told me about him—Micheal... I'm really sorry. He seemed like a good guy."

His eyes follow yours to the note, and he doesn't say anything for a minute, which isn't unusual, Carmen has always been decently shy since you met him, but it makes you wonder if it was a mistake bringing it up.

Strangely enough, this is the first time that someone's brought up Michael and he hasn't wanted to slam a door in their face. Normally, he would just nod and say something like, 'yeah, he was a good guy' and that would be his way of wiggling out of another unwelcome conversation, but he doesn't. Instead, he stares at the note and wonders for the first time since Micheal died if he should have gone to the funeral.

It made him feel like a fucking asshole for not going, but he couldn't listen to all those people saying how good it was to have him back—how happy Micheal would have been to have him back—because if Micheal hadn't gone and killed himself, he wouldn't be here anyhow. He'd still be in New York. He'd still be angry at Micheal like he is now.

Carmen sighs. "I—I wish that I had talked to him more instead of just fucking off to New York. Because after that I just hated coming back too all of this... y'know? And then it was like even when I was here, he kinda just knew that I didn't want to be here, and so we spent that time just fuckin'... at each other's throats.." He trails off, sniffing to clear the choked up feeling from his throat. "Just—who the fuck does that?"

He's asking you. Who shoots themself and doesn't even leave a note? Who shoots themself and leaves their little brother to pick up the remains of their shithole restaurant?

"Well," you begin, laughing a little at the absurdity of it all. "You're talking to a girl who decided to quit her job after three years as a private chef and is now slicing spare ribs in Chicago for just over minimum wage."

The unseriousness of the confession makes him crack a smile and now he's fighting a grin off of his face. "Yeah, that was uh..." He's still chuckling, shaking his head. "That was really stupid of you. Why would you do that?"

You're fighting a smile too now, heart pumping in your chest because he's really fucking pretty when he laughs. His cheeks are flushed and his curly hair is a disheveled mess and you just want to reach over and smooth a hand through it.

Your tongue wets your bottom lip and his blue eyes don't miss the nervous habit. "Well, there's this guy..."

"Yeah?" Carmen's smiling, the tired expression on his face softened by the twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, there's this guy. And I've looked up to him my entire life. He's brilliant—like really fucking brilliant. And I promised myself that if I ever got the opportunity to work for him, I would do it."

Carmen snorts softly, glancing down at the white tile floor a bit bashfully before looking back to you again. "And now you know what a freaking psycho I am, huh?"

You can see it, him retreating back into the mellow, unsure person he becomes when he's not manning an overflowing expo station, a broken freezer, and an entire staff of chefs. It's endearing how timid he is, like he almost doesn't really know himself or how he fits in anywhere outside the kitchen. "I don't think you're a psycho, Carm. I mean, I would be a little crazy too if I had what you have on my plate."

He just nods, still a little sheepish at your praise. Just like this morning, when you had caught him at the back door before opening, he doesn't know what to do with himself when you're around.

You break the silence by turning back towards your station. "I'm going to finish up here. I don't mind locking up if you don't want to stay."

Carmen watches as you lean forward onto the toes of your beat up sneakers to grab the paper towels off the overhead shelf and the hem of your hand cropped t-shirt rides up. His first instinct is to look away because the exposed flesh of your rib cage feels like something he shouldn't be seeing, much less staring at, but it's like he freezes out of panic and now he's looking at the tattoo just under your breast.

He stands there, mouth partially open to reply back to you, but it's like his tongue is numb in his mouth and he doesn't even remember what he was going to say anymore. And then it's gone, concealed again by the hem of your white t-shirt.

When you walked into the Beef two weeks ago, your tattoos had been strangely surprising to him at first. He hadn't pictured you like that in his mind—bronzed skin and tatted forearms and cherry glossed lips—just grunge enough to make anyone who passes you look twice. Now you're all he thinks about.

"Carmy. Carmy?"

You're staring at him, head cocked to the side, brows furrowed in confusion and—God, he wants to kiss you.

"Are you oka—"

"Can I kiss you?" He blurts out the question as if he won't be able to finish it if he doesn't get it all out in one breath. Like he knows that if he doesn't ask now he's never going to have the courage to do it again, and he'll be stuck shoving down these feelings for you for the rest of his life.

When you stare at him, eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights, he knows he screwed up. His stomach drops and—fuck, he really needs a Tums right now. He looks away, hand reaching to his hair, eyes darting to the ceiling because he can't take the embarrassment of looking at you.

"I—fuck, I'm sorry. That was totally—um. I shouldn't have—"

"Shut up, Carmen."

"No, that was stupid of me. I—"

"Shut up so I can kiss you, you moron."

Stepping forward, your hand curls around the back of his neck, drawing him down to close the gap between the two of you. Even then you have to stand on your toes to reach him. Although the tense, anticipatory stiffness of his body against yours is screaming wait, you press your lips to his before he has the chance to back down.

It's everything that a first kiss should be—hot and sweet and a bit awkwardly reserved. You can tell he’s nervous. Nevertheless, you can't help the hum that escapes you at the feeling of his plush bottom lip pressed between your own. If given the choice, you’d never pull away from the warm taste of his mouth.

Carmen's breathing heavy, heart pounding in his chest, hand pressing into your back, pulling you closer as he kisses you impossibly harder. He's never kissed a girl before and he decides then and there that he never wants to kiss any girl that's not you.

It’s not clear which of you pulls away first—coming up for air more than anything—but it leaves you both nose to nose, mouths still inches from each other, still sharing the same air that you would had your mouths been connected.

“Carmen?” you ask softly, nose brushing his as you speak. You can feel his heart beating against his chest.

“Yeah?” he replies in same breathy tone.

“Did I mention I really like it here?”

[bambi-kinos]

Hopefully, this ask is a fun one! I've noticed that a lot of times you mention Paul is a bottom, and honestly, I agree 1000% per cent, but I'm curious how you came to that conclusion

For me, I feel like it was a result of tons of reading up on him, body language + his lyrics, and I think the whole control freak (misleading in a way too) part makes some fans think he's a top. Meanwhile, I sit here and think, nope, he's totally a bottom lmao

A lot of it is just wish fulfillment as a result of Paul's bus-sized ass. We're not the only ones thinking about it:

Like it would be a crime if John didn't fuck Paul in the ass. Right??? So it's easy to think "yeah Paul is a bottom" rofl.

But more seriously, I view Paul as a bottom for a number of reasons.

The first is simply how long John and Paul knew each other and how they naturally shaped each other's interests and desires. Paul may not have been that 'swishy' (i.e. effeminate) if he had never met John in the first place. It's easy to see how John and Paul's understanding of homosexuality would have shaped their presentation and the roles they took with one another. Like, in modern times two gay guys can just be Guys Being Dudes. They can both take shirtless selfies of themselves holding up fish with the 🤙 going "shaka braaahhh." In the mid 20th century this idea was not terribly widespread so even among gay people there was an impression of "well someone has to be the woman and it's not going to be me."

So I think that's a big part of it. It's impossible to know how conscious a decision this was but IMO John and Paul reached a consensus of some sort that Paul would take up the feminine role in response to John's masculine one. It's a natural (for a given value of 'natural') position for the feminine half to be the one who is penetrated. Paul, who has demonstrated a number of times his sharp awareness of homosexual activity and how society perceives it, would know this. And he took up that position anyway and kept with it, voluntarily. (And to be clear I think Paul stimulated John's butch attitude and grew that to make John more overtly masculine as well. This goes both ways.)

It's not hard to see why this happened. John is a lot more naturally traditionally masculine than Paul is, no matter what John said about being "soft velvet" and "le Oscar Wilde!!11!!1!" He's the one who got into bar fights and hammered the shit out of other men. He's the subject of a rumor about kicking Stuart in the head, not Paul. Personally I think Paul is perfectly capable of violence, even extreme violence, but he simply isn't perceived that way due to his feminine appearance. Meanwhile John is overtly aggressive and in your face about it, even when going through his druggie periods, which is simply a more traditionally masculine trait no matter how you slice it.

I guess what I'm saying is, Paul responded to and was shaped by John's personality and preferences. John likes to fuck, Paul leans more towards feminine expression, feminine = 'the one who is fucked' not necessarily 'the one who fucks.'

I don't believe they were thinking about this as teenagers (and I don't think they did anything besides circlejerking before Hamburg.) And Paul likes using his dick! However it seems obvious to me that John woke something up in Paul that would have naturally lain dormant under other circumstances. John had a habit of doing this for people, he woke them up to their higher inclinations that got them out of their boxes and I 100% believe that he nudged Paul's 'swishiness' awake and that Paul quietly used this to get out of the box other people wanted to keep him in. He was able to embrace this more fully while with Linda. For Paul, that swishiness comes packaged with a certain set of implications and to me there's no reason why he wouldn't embrace that.

That's not to say that he was completely gung-ho from the start. People who write Paul going 'wtf I'm not doing that' in response to John wanting to fuck him are writing material that feels 'real' for lack of a better word. But I also don't think it would be that hard of a sell once he got used to the idea. Really look at this gif:

John's interest in Paul's backside is overt. Paul seems surprised and a little overwhelmed in the moment but he also smiles a little in response to John checking him out. It seems to me that there's interest there, albeit tentative. In other words Paul seems okay with being the one who is piped.

It's a lot to surmise from a single gif, I know, but otoh we don't have a lot of these moments where John's feelings are overt and Paul responds to them.

In addition to all this, Paul is a curious hedonist. I think John could prevail on him to at least try it. Then I think Paul would enjoy it greatly. Anal orgasms are somewhere between clitoral and vaginal for me but anal sex is satisfying in a way that PIV isn't, and I think Paul would actively seek it out once he tried it and realized how good it is. Anal sex is extremely intimate and John paid close attention to his lovers, Paul is guaranteed a good time once John takes him to bed. And John would want to make that special for Paul especially once Paul did 'break down' and go 'alright I'll do it' as part of their kinky power game. John did like to make things sweet for Paul.

Paul has this whole thing about wanting to be John's second and not necessarily the leader. He enjoys being lead and dominated by powerful men who are at the top of their industry. Check out this quote from McCartney Legacy Vol. 1 in Chapter 26:

Paul explicitly giving in to a "strong and demanding" male after putting up a perfunctory fight that he had no intention of sticking to? What does this remind us of?

And look, Paul invites this himself very deliberately:

Paul is doing this on purpose. He shows his ass off to entice us, the viewers, into imagining his hole and putting our dicks inside said hole and inside him. Women appreciate a nice ass but lack the equipment to fuck it properly. Men do have the equipment and by 1965 Paul knows his effect on heterosexual men. He's very much dangling the fuckability of his ass as a carrot in front of everyone who wants to look. No other Beatle displays this kind of overt neediness for this specific kind of attention. Paul knows what he is doing.

Paul is a bottom. A needy and bratty bottom who enjoys being put in his place and has a thick kinky streak to be sure, but a bottom nonetheless.

The insistence that Paul is a top has always smacked of contrarianism, to me anyway lmao. It's always packaged with making fun of McLennon fanart where Paul is yassified and John is butch or with complaints that Beatle fandom is making Paul "too feminine" and John "too masculine." There's a lot I could say about it but for now I'll just leave it at this: it's usually paired with bitching that McLennon fans are having too much fun. Many are guilty of it.

John and Paul themselves acknowledged this dynamic between them in oblique ways. John, Paul, and even Yoko always imagined Paul as being a woman as well as acknowledging that Paulina would have been romantically attached to John. Paul acknowledged it with the "if I were a woman maybe I could have...." thing, Yoko said that Paul would be a "great threat" if he was a woman in her audio diary that she recorded in 1968/1969, and John also has a quote floating around about the potential that lay in Paul being a woman though I'll be damned if I can't find the stupid thing. And then there's the insulting "Lennon's Princess" nickname from Apple staff. They perceived the dynamic as well.

John and Paul, consciously or not, actively pursued this dynamic with one another. They enjoyed it and Paul voluntarily stayed in that role even during a time period where he might have been justified in going "okay we've hit the big time, no more of that!"

Just look at Paul's posture here lmao. John is shoving his erection into Paul's shoulder. Yeah he's trying to hide it but Paul is fine with it, shoulders relaxed with no tension in him at all. Paul wasn't just John's princess, John was also Paul's knight, and that comes with certain responsibilities as well as privileges.

John was overtly more stable when he had sex on tap. John and Paul actively lived together for months at a time where few people could get to them. Seems to me that Paul not only did his job but took a lot of pleasure in doing it and John reaped the benefits. Notably John didn't start falling apart until they stopped touring and his sexual access to Paul was bottlenecked. Then 1967 rolls around and John just sorta, moved in with Paul and noticeably got back on an even keel.

Many thunks are to be had my friend! Many thunks indeed and one of them is that Paul is a bottom. Not just that, an enthusiastic one that likes courting powerful and even emotionally unstable males capable of overpowering him.

Much to consider!