#does the bar/table look too wide? no it doesn't

[reve-writes]

—the set-up; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1,8k words. ʚ from this request. | three times the crows plan to set you and kaz up + the one time they find out you're married. ʚ fluff; the crows are featured (incl. wesper & helnik ship); kaz's touch aversion isn't featured. ʚ a/n this has been sitting in the drafts for a bit. ive been suffering down the leon brainrot hole (honestly an excellent one to fall into). kaz calls reader schatje (i have a fic where he does this. i chose schatje because ketterdam is loosely inspired from 1500s-1700s amsterdam!). i wrote this in a goofy way honestly.

one. he smiles.

Wylan fiddles with jars and tubes filled with an assortment of chemicals—some of them tend to explode, all of them horrible smelling. He's supposed to be on guard duty and he prefers it over running around guns blazing alongside Jesper—as much as he loves the sharpshooter, gunshots give him a lot of anxiety.

He peers into the room where most of the work is happening.

You are poring over stacks of documents, eyes scanning quickly top-to-bottom to find relevant information. Kaz has his ear pressed against the front of a safe, gloved hand twisting the lock. You move around him in the cramped office space with relative ease, grabbing more files to read on the desk.

It doesn't take long for the safe to swing open.

“No safe is safe from Kaz Brekker, the safe-cracker, huh?” you comment. A light, teasing smile decorates your lips.

“Please never say that sentence again.”

To Wylan's surprise, the ever-frowning Dirtyhands smiles. Not the half-hearted hospitable smile he occasionally gives out, or the scary half-sneer half-smirk that is so intimidating it scares even Wylan sometimes. No, a genuine, amused smile. It is so unnatural that he has to look away, a hand clasped over his mouth in shock.

When he tells Jesper, the taller man mirrors his reaction, dark eyes blown wide and jaw unhinged.

“He smiled?” Jesper gives an incredulous stare as if Wylan has just told him that he is a member of the Council of Tide—which is impossible with Wylan's lack of Grisha ability, let alone tidemaking. “He smiled over that?”

Wylan nods enthusiastically.

“We are talking about the same Kaz?”

“Are there any other Kaz that we know?” Wylan sighs.

“Well, no—”

“I think we have to proceed with the plan,” Wylan ponders. Jesper blinks widely.

“The plan?”

“Nina's plan!” Wylan looks at Jesper as if he's just gotten a strike of inspiration, hand in the air, pointing at nothing in particular. “Operation Kaz and ____. Remember?”

Jesper remembers. It was so ridiculous that it remains impossible to remove from his memory to this day, even though it was mentioned in passing.

Nina, flushed red from too many drinks, suddenly shoots her hand up, flailing it limply. The founder of the idea seems to have a plan ready to set in motion.

“We are the gods of love!” She drunkenly declares, free hand moves to tap Wylan's cheeks repeatedly. “And as the benevolent gods that we are, our first mission is them.”

Nina pushes Wylan's face towards you and Kaz, sat at the bar, deep in conversation. The rest of the Crows followed suit, realising Nina's suggestion. She stumbles over drunkenly and with little-to-no care on making it look as natural or accidental as she can, "trips" over her foot and falls forward.

You take the brunt of the force, being pushed forward that you fall onto Kaz. The latter glares at Nina, hand coming to your shoulder to steady you.

“My bad.... It seems I've lost my balance,” she slurs. “Oh! Would you look at that? The two of you would make quite a pair, don't you think so, Matthias?”

Matthias raises an eyebrow, already hauling Nina with him to get back to their table.

“Poor Helvar,” says Kaz simply, nudging you to get back on the barstool.

“He doesn't seem to mind,” you retort, noting Matthias' loving gaze as he escorts Nina.

It doesn't take long before the chaos settles, leaving you and Kaz, still engaging in conversation as the last patrons leave the Crow Club.

“We would make a good pair, huh?” You tease, reaching over to brush your hand against his, leather soft under your palm. “You think so?”

Kaz looks at you pointedly, tugging your left hand towards him, fingers pressing on the small diamond adorning your ring finger. “Would I have given you this, if I didn't?”

Smooth with his words without even trying. A trait you find both annoying and endearing after all the years you've been together.

“I mean you have a lot of diamonds lying around—”

“Schatje.”

“Yes?” All train of thought immediately halts on its tracks. The petname has a hold over you that he oh-so-often uses as leverage. You pout. “Stop distracting me.”

He smiles—soft and uncharacteristic, contradictory to the harsh rasp of his voice and the rough scars on his skin. He smiles a smile he reserves only for your eyes, and you're falling for it, a hundred times over.

two. the demjin.

You don't like when Kaz gets like this—all wrung up over a waivable matter. It reminds you a lot of what he had to be before, the things he had to do and what Dirtyhands actually stood for. Not at all akin to the Kaz Brekker you know—the one who immediately comes whenever one of your crew is threatened, the one who stays up with you as you wait for the rest of your little heist crew to return, the one who goes out of his way to collect little trinkets to bring home to you.

You are hurt, shallow cuts all over your body from a little dagger scuffle with a mercenary, but you're a member of the Dregs—this, you can take. A little Heartrender magic and some bandages, you will recover in no time.

“You're back.”

Kaz stops and you look over him to find his knuckles bloodied, hair stuck out of place and clothes disheveled.

“You're alright, schatje?”

His room at the Slat isn't big contrary to popular belief. He sinks into his chair with a huge sigh. You're watching him three steps away from the edge of his bed.

“What did you do?”

He shrugs, tugging his coat off. “Business.”

“You went after them.”

“It was one part of the business.” He pulls at his gloves, shedding them into the trash—too bloodied for him to bother cleaning. “Are you sure you're alright?”

You tuck your hands into your elbows, displeasure visible across your features. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Kaz.”

“They deserved it,” he stubbornly says. “I had to make sure they know not to involve themselves with us. You understand. Besides, I'm alright.”

“I do understand,” you relent. It is business. The Barrell doesn't stop for poets or musicians or lovers, no, it thrives off of the back of violence, taking an eye for an eye. “I just wish that you were here when I woke up.”

His shoulders loosen and he is your Kaz again. Not the one molded by Ketterdam, birthed at its harbour. He's the man so in love that he will dry the seas for you if you say the word. Kaz takes your hands. They are warm on his skin and his heart swells.

“I am sorry, schatje.”

You kneel in front of him, leaning your elbows on his thighs to press a brief kiss on his lips. “Let's stay off business for a while.”

“Kaz?” A sound outside the door, followed by three raps. “Are you in there?”

“He is, Jesper. Give us a moment,” you reply.

You hear hushed whispers—both low voices, so you assume it's Wylan. Your suspicion is confirmed when the second voice sounds from behind the door.

“No, we—no, Jes—don't have anything urgent. We simply wanted to know if he is well. Take your time. We'll be going now.”

“Good night, Wylan,” you reply, immediately hearing fading footsteps soon after.

“Fifty kruge says they're already together,” says Jesper, out of your earshot.

Wylan rolls her eyes. “Fifty on them not dating yet.”

Jesper immediately clasps Wylan's hand with a loud “Deal!”

iii. the marketplace.

“Busybodies,” Kaz complained, walking a step behind you as you're treading through the Ketterdam food market. “They are not even hiding. In broad daylight. How have they never gotten caught before?”

“Kaz, my love.” You are trying not to laugh as you're picking and choosing fruits. “They usually do a better job on actual missions.”

They refer to your five lovely friends who have decided to tail you as you're coming down to the market. Kaz is the first to take notice—blurry figures moving erratically ten steps behind you.

“I should assign them something to do instead of... whatever it is they're currently doing.”

“They're curious.” You shrug, handing over a few slips of Kruge to the seller and leaving with your bag five apples heavier. “We've been acting suspicious lately. They'll find out soon enough.”

“I'll bet Inej finds out first.” Kaz nudges your fingers with his, taking the bag from you as he matches his step with yours. “The Wraith does a better job at spying.”

“My bet is Matthias.” An unlikely one. He's probably the least nosy out of the five.

Suddenly, you're pulled into a small nook, squuezed between buildings and he presses a kiss on your lips. One turns to two and you're smiling like a lovesick fool when he pulls away.

“We're being followed and you pull this?”

“Schatje, our pursuers are horrendously bad at this.” He shrugs, pulling away. You resume your trek through the market. “Look. They've lost us.”

iv. the marriage certificate.

“Fake IDs,” Kaz says, pointing at the towering Fjerdan. “You'll be collecting them from Anika.”

Matthias doesn't mind running errands, although he does think that he'll be better suited for physical fights other than fetching papers, but he doesn't argue. It seems he is doing more than simply fetching papers though.

“That is real?” He asks Anika, pointing at a marriage certificate she has on her desk. Marriage certificates are mundane enough not to warrant this type of reaction, but it is the name that shocks even him to the core. Kaz Brekker and you, married?

“As real as can be around here.” Anika scrambles to hide it away. “Here are your IDs. Don't tell anyone about it.”

In Matthias' defense, he doesn't end up telling just anyone. He tells Nina and Nina is the one telling everyone else. Within a week, every member of the Crows have known about it.

Wylan hands Jesper slips of fifty kruge, grumbling that this is unfair. Nina looks like spring has just arrived. Inej is probably the least reactive—but that is because she's already found out long before the others. She's the Wraith after all. Matthias is anxious. For all everyone knows, he is the one responsible for the news.

You strut into the dining room, seeing everyone gathered and raise an eyebrow.

“Why are you all here?”

“We want to ask—”

Before Nina can finish her sentence, Jesper blurts out. “You're married?”

You chuckle, shrugging. “You found out.”

“How long?”

“Kaz? Really?”

“How did that happen?”

A series of questions that you don't actually answer. You stand there, leaning on the back of one of the wooden chairs situated in the room—remorseless to your very core.

“Ask him about it.”

That ends the discussion. None of them will actually ask him about it and even if any of them actually finds the courage to, the likelihood of Kaz answering anything that's not a sarcastic remark or a threat is close to none.

“How did you find out anyway?”

Everyone points towards Matthias and to the Fjerdan's horror, Nina's pointer finger finds him, too.

You only smile, silently planning to brag to your spouse that you've won your bet.

[ ].

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism x Reader: Simps

G/N. Gun Park, Ryuhei Kuroda, Jake Kim. Just stupid and silly.

Goo calls Gun a simp.

He says it mocking and derisive as if it is something to be ashamed of.

Maybe it is. Gun doesn't know what a simp is. Goo opens his mouth and most of the time only shit comes out. Gun isn't about to ask and neither does he care.

"Wrapped around Y/N's finger," Goo sneers and that, Gun understands.

Maybe that's true too. He still aims a punch at the blonde's head.

.

.

Leaning over Gun's shoulder, you peer at the search box and chuckle, "Simp? Why are you searching for simp?"

"I'm researching what it means."

"Huh." Your brows knit together, wondering how he came across the term, when this is the kind of person who likes to text in either simple emojis or full sentences and no inbetween, has no idea about pop culture references and terminologies, and you had to teach him what the eggplant emoji actually meant.

A lightbulb goes off.

A Cheshire cat smile creeps over your face, " Did Goo Kim call you a simp?"

Gun turns towards you, traces of annoyance on his face, "He did."

"Well, aren't you?"

He looks down at the definition of simp again, doesn't really understand why it's meant as an insult, when at the crux of it, for Gun, it's simply someone attentive and devoted to their partner.

Gun grumbles, but he supposes: Yes. For you, he is a simp.

.

.

Kenta and Ryuhei are Executives.

Part of the exclusive club of Senior Management at Workers yet they both wait patiently in line at the coffee bar as their assistants (and yours) fidgets behind them.

"They're worried," Kenta murmurs in his native tongue.

"Why?" Ryuhei glances over and indeed all three appear concerned.

"That you think they can't do their jobs."

"It's just a coffee." Ryuhei shrugs, "Anyone can get a coffee."

"Exactly," Kenta wonders if he's being deliberately obtuse. "And it's expected that assistants get the coffee. They think they're doing something wrong because you're here."

"I know how Y/N likes their coffee."

"So does their assistant."

"I know precisely how Y/N likes their coffee."

Kenta sees the beginnings of a sulk, Ryuhei's bottom lip starting to jut out and the furrow of his brows, and sighs.

Ryuhei is being deliberately obtuse. It's not even a particularly adventurous order. Even Kenta knows how you like your coffee, having unfortunately been dragged here by his friend enough times. 

They both shuffle forwards.

"One large Americano. No sugar, no milk," Kenta demonstrates, rattling off your drink of choice to the barista. 

It's difficult to get wrong.

Ryuhei gasps dramatically at Kenta stealing his thunder, and receives an eye roll in return. Who cares about who places the order? Ryuhei is going to be the one that hand delivers the coffee anyway, then hang around you all afternoon being a nuisance.

"You're such a simp." Kenta complains.

Any hint of indignation disappears, and a wide cheerful grin spreads over the blonde’s face.

"I know!"

.

.

For someone of Jake Kim's size, he can be surprisingly sleuthy.

He pokes his head into the room, where the majority of his inner circle sits, hears both his and your name being mentioned and his ears perk up.

Oh?

With quiet, measured movements, sneaks over to the table, and slides into the empty space between Jason and Jerry.

"-I can't believe he is such a simp!" Brad chuckles.

"He really is," Jason agrees.

Jake leans forward, "Who is?"

Lua rolls her eyes, "Jake!"

"Me?"

Hasn't this guy kept up with the conversation? "Yeah, obviously!" Lineman adds-

And then eyes widening in shock, recoils sharply. As does the rest of the table.

Jake?! When did?! How?! What?

An uncomfortable silence descends, festers, stretches taut-

Snaps, when Jake raises his eyebrows and asks the group, "I'm a simp, huh?"

Jerry, his ever loyal sword, speaks for the first time. "You are."

Jake considers it, thinks about himself, thinks about you and his eyes soften. He grins, toothy and lovestruck, "I am."

[ddejavvu]

Reader who makes Aaron blush!!!!! Maybe the bau are out together after a case has wrapped up, and the reader says sm cute to him and he starts blushing and everyone starts teasing them <3

There's a woman that nearly walks into a table while passing your own in the bar, and you can't really blame her. Your team is a gorgeous bunch, but you suspect the woman's eyes had been singling out the tall, dark, and handsome figure of your boss.

Her friends helps yank her out of the way before she can topple the table, and she seems too embarrassed at her near-spill to come over, if that had been her intention in the first place. You're glad, because even if you can't blame her for finding Aaron handsome, you can be jealous.

"Poor thing," Emily tuts, "Derek, button your shirt up a bit, you're causing traffic jams."

Morgan grins at her observation, but you down the last of your drink for the courage you need to speak.

You attempt it casually: "I dunno. Seemed like she was eyeing up Mr. Smokeshow over here," You nod towards Aaron, then glance around at everyone's glasses, "Anyone need a refill?"

"Me, please." JJ recovers quickly from her barely-masked delight, having clocked your not-so-subtle crush on Hotch from the beginning. She slides her glass over to you and you catch it before it can hit the ground, looking back up at everyone else.

"Mine, JJ's, anyone else?"

"We're good." Reid decides, his smile tight-lipped, "Thanks, L/N."

You take your leave with a nod and a grin, hoping they don't notice the slight tremor in your hands as you turn away with the glasses. They barely wait until you're out of earshot to round on Hotch, and he's glad he hadn't given you his drink so that he can bury his burning cheeks in it.

"Mr. Smokeshow," Derek kicks him beneath the table with a shit-eating grin, "Hey, bet no one's ever called you that before."

"Derek-"

"Maybe you can have it engraved on a plaque for your desk," Rossi goads, "You can just throw out the one you've got, your name doesn't matter anymore."

"Dave. She was kidding." Aaron scolds, and JJ thumps her fist on the table.

"She was not kidding! Oh, my god, you are absolutely impossible! She likes you," JJ levels him with a knowing stare, "What is it going to take for you to believe it, her dropping to her knees?"

"Well what if she's just tying his shoe?" Emily frowns in mock worry, "You have to be careful about that sort of thing."

"I do have to be careful," Hotch insists, keeping a wary eye on you to be sure you're still occupied and out of earshot, "Expressing interest in a member of my team would be disastrous if they didn't feel the same."

"Yeah, but she does feel the same," Reid gives Aaron a pitying glance, "I'm not exactly the BAU's matchmaking expert, but I know that."

"She's coming back," Penelope elbows Reid, and the man winces as her arm hits his slender side, "Everyone shut up!"

"Here," You slide JJ her drink back, taking your seat beside Derek and across from Hotch, "What did I miss?"

"Oh, the usual," Emily shrugs, but there's delight dancing in her eyes, "Just talking about blowjobs."

Your eyes shoot wide in surprise but you stifle a laugh into the rim of your glass, "Oh, yeah. That's what I thought. Who are we blowing?"

"No one." Aaron clears his throat, nearly choking on the last of his drink that he downs, "I changed my mind, I'll go for a refill."

He seems much more calm and collected as he beelines for the bar than you had, but you try not to stare too long at his departure lest someone catches on. Apparently, though, they already have; you turn back to the table and six pairs of eyes are on you, all accompanied by identical grins.

You don't let them get a single word out as you raise your glass to your lips, "Shut up."

[duskier]

If you ever wrote the 141 getting bullied by Fem!ghost, the lesbianism in me would go wild I fear (so like…you should totally do it ist saying)

(I'm unsure if this was just for fem Ghost or full fem 141 forgive me fkdjsnd if it isn't good lmk and I'll do better for u <3)

cw cucking (??) cw exhibitionism!! this is just Ghost fucking reader to show the guys how its done

I won't lie I feel like I did good here

I'm so sorry but fem Ghost in a regular 141 sounds like dyke HELL imagine all of these bumbling idiots talking about women like they can take girls home and play them like a instrument when they can't spell clit let alone find it!!

And the second they catch wind that Ghost is a lesbian? They aren't homophobic by a long shot, but suddenly Ghost gets deeper into 'the boys club'. They wanna talk women with Ghost. It's weird, crude, and Ghost can't help but pity the women they all go home to. Soap always asks really invasive questions about how lesbian sex even works, a ton of porn-centric ideas that make Ghost roll her eyes. Gaz mainly wants to guess at Ghost's type in women, keeps showing her girls in his dating apps to see which one catches her eye. Price is obviously curious himself about Ghost's love life, but keeps the most quiet about it.

...Soap gets a ton of bravado when he's drunk. He likes to let loose when they go to bars close to base, usually it isn't too intolerable. But then he brags about how he's the best lay in his town, 'just ask any girl'. Gaz makes a joke about being internationally ranked, to which Price punches his shoulder. They all look when Ghost snorts incredulously.

"Aye? Think you'd do better with that plastic, Lt?" Soap points at her using his whiskey glass, a small drop spilling onto the table with his carelessness.

Ghost narrows her eyes at him. Part of her just wants to deck him, as much of a little brother as he was to her. "I know I would, Sergeant."

...It's your lucky night. Gaz spotted you first, lips missing his straw repeatedly as his eyes fixes on you leaning over the bar. Price sees you next, jostles Soap to get his attention.

But when you look over to their booth, the only person you're looking at is the woman in the balaclava. Black compression shirt not hiding an inch of her bulk, wide shoulders and stomach hanging just over her belt line. Carabiner on a belt loop, and you know you've got to at least try. You'd misread flags before thanks to the stupid military base being so close by, but the sight of Ghost... too tempting.

You can't see Ghost’s entire face, but you see her eyes crinkle when you shyly bring her a drink. Her friends across from her in the booth offer you a seat on their side, but before you can reply, Ghost is patting her thigh. It shouldn't make you so weak in the knees, but it does, so you quickly sit yourself on her thigh.

The men's eyes are wide, fixed on Ghost- how'd she get you under her spell so fast? You don't really notice their looks, too busy drinking in the smell of her cologne, a thrill shooting up your spine at the feel of her hand on your back.

...Ghost gets the idea first. None of the team protests, if anything their eyes grow hungrier. It doesn't take much convincing for you, either. It's a strange request, sure, for three men and one woman to want to take you back to a hotel for the night. But Ghost reassured you-

"None o'em will lay a hand on you, love, you'll just be mine. They just need t'see, learn how to do things right. You mind helping me show them?"

When you nod, mind already imagining what was to come, she cups your cheek with a gloved hand, thumb stroking your soft skin. "There's a good girl. You'll be perfect."

...Within an hour, Ghost's got you naked and compliant in a hotel room down the way. You'd forgotten about the men watching you entirely within only a few minutes of Ghost's bare hands pulling you onto your lap. With one hand she's spreading your ass apart while her other hand slips a finger or two in you. You're bracing yourself with your hands on her chest, gasping with your forehead pressed to hers as she finds every which way to make you feel good in that position.

You don't even have to tell her when you're close. Stars shining behind closed eyelids you can hear her whispering just for you, "Go on, let them see you, pretty thing. You deserve it, cum for me."

After your shocks have worn off, she's kissing you through her mask as she lays you down. Hands caressing and exploring, never in a rush. The only clothes she removes are her gloves and rolling up her balaclava. You're only passingly upset Ghost won't take her actual clothes off- you're sure it had something to do with the dynamic between her and her team- she looks damn good with her strap hooked over her jeans anyway.

You're salivating when she gets her knees on each side of your head. Thumb pressing down on her silicon cock, guiding it between your pretty lips. "Just gotta get it ready f'me pet, then I'll give you what you need."

Her quiet little words of encouragement are all you need, emboldening you to suck it like you're getting paid to, thighs clenching together at the sound of her grumbling praise.

The men aren't touching themselves, despite them straining in their pants and shifting every so often. Their eyes glued to you, your own eyes glued to Ghost as she pulls back, thumb wiping your spit-slick lips clean.

When she lines herself up with you, she doesn't immediately bully herself in. She grinds herself against you, focusing her mental energy on everywhere else. Licking your neck, biting your ear, whispering praises just for you while her fingers tug at your tits.

"Look like a fuckin' dream, love. So good for me, they don't even deserve to see you like this..."

It's when your chest is heaving, your face is flushed, and your nails are clawing her back that she rears her hips back, the plastic expertly catching and slipping into your needy cunt. "Just like that pet, just fuckin'- like that-"

She was so affected, sounded so hoarse, it sent butterflies through you as she started fucking into you. Ghost was like a damned machine, fucking you through orgasm after orgasm, your mewls and desperate cries filling the room. Her arms are so strong around you, she's tearing you apart and holding you together all the same. Like nothing you'd ever had before, and she knows it.

"Think of me, next time you're in bed- with any man like them, yeah? Remember what you could be having instead, call me when he's pumped and gone. I'll take care of you pet, like no man could."

The front of her jeans are soaked from you by the time you finally tap her arm, entire form shaking from exhaustion. Ghost immediately accepts it, pulling out and unhooking her strap as you giggle light-headed at the wet spot you left on her pants. She cleans you up, wet washcloth and all. You try to tell her you don't need it, but the lukewarm cloth soothes your tender parts like she said it would. Dresses you herself because frankly, you're still boneless.

Wraps you in her big warm coat that smells like her cigarettes, tells you kindly she's gonna get you home safe. To the men behind her, the men you couldn't care less about, the men all politely sitting with their hands folded in their laps, she barks, "Do what you will here, clean up when you're done. I'll see you back on base."

[builtbykittie]

Dirty secrets

S.f.k x f!reader

summary: a movie night with your best friend takes a drastic turn after walking in on his insufferable roommate.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, enemies to lovers-ish, SMUT, mentions of masturbation, fingering, slapping, overstimulation, oral(m & f rec), unprotected sex (you know better), sam is kind of an asshole, multiple orgasms, choking if you squint

A/N: once again not edited because I'm lazy... Sorry for any mistakes!! Enjoy!

.

"Heyy beautiful!" Danny smiles, holding the front door open with a wide grin.

"Hi Daniel," you grin, holding out your arms for a hug. You have to admit, you're excited to finally get to spend time with him at his place. You've purposefully avoided going to Danny's house ever since he and Sam moved in together, so most of the time you'd be at bars or parties.

Sam had gone through a breakup not very long ago, he didn't want to stay at his house and moved out. At first, it was just until he got over her and found a new place, but he gets over girls questionably quick and it doesn't seem that he's moving out any time soon. At least not until he moves on to the next girl.

The second you saw that Sam's car was missing from the driveway, you sat up in your seat. You hoped that Sam might've taken off once Danny told him you'd be over. The thought of him being so petty that he leaves makes you giggle, until you remember you'd do the exact same. Is it childish? Absolutely. But maybe you're allowed to be not so mature for once.

But your hopes are crushed as Danny leads you into the house.

"I know you and Sam... aren't the greatest friends," he pauses "but he's at the store getting food. He'll be back sometime soon."

You stop in your tracks, all color draining from your face. "What?" is all you can get out.

After a moment, you finally collect your words. "Danny I thought it was gonna be just us?" You try your best to seem calm and act mature, but the red tint covering your entire body tells otherwise.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. If I had told you any sooner you wouldn't have come," Danny says, further fueling the fire that is your temper.

He can tell you're about to say something and stops you. "Sam was supposed to be out but after I told him what was going on he got defensive and insisted on staying here," Danny shrugs, looking defeated. You can tell they got in a little argument over this and you decide not to go too hard on him, even though he failed to tell you you'd be hanging out with your sworn enemy. The man at the core of all your arguments.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought it was gonna be just us. I wish it was," he offers you a smile, but it doesn't help. It makes no sense. Why would Sam of all people want to stick around? To torment you? To show you that this is also his house and he's allowed to be around? He does help Danny pay, after all.

It takes about half an hour of scrolling through streaming sites and saying no to every suggestion to finally decide on a movie. Sam still hasn't returned.

The two of you sit around for another thirty minutes waiting for his return, but it doesn't come. Maybe he really did take off. "Let's just start the movie," Danny finally suggests, you didn't want to say it in case he'd take it as you being upset over Sam, which you are.

You grab a blanket, bringing your feet to your side and cuddling up to his arm. The movie starts, and about ten minutes pass until Sam is finally walking through the door. The second you see him you roll your eyes, already blocking out whatever dumb excuse he has for his tardiness.

But he doesn't say anything, just walking over to the opposite side of the room from you and dropping the bag of food on the coffee table. "Jesus, took you long enough," Danny pauses the movie. "We started the movie, hope you don't mind.

"I do, actually," Sam says as a matter of fact. You try your best not to just get up and walk out. Or scoff at him. Or let your emotions get the best of you.

Danny just looks at you, silently asking if it's okay to rewind. "I don't care. It's only ten minutes," you say rather bitterly, deciding to avoid as much conflict as possible.

Oh, but that stupid face of Sam's drives you crazy. He's got a smug smile playing on his lips, looking right at you. Heaven only knows how badly you want to get up and slap him right in his dumb, pretty little face.

Something about Sam is he thinks that because he's attractive that he can be an asshole. Because he's attractive, life is 10x easier. Getting a girlfriend is incredibly easy, everyone is nice to him, and he always gets his way.

He never really did anything to you, besides being an asshole. You just hated his pretty privilege, attitude, and presence. Something about him just being around puts you in a bad mood. Drove you crazy. The sight of him. The smell of his cologne. The sound of his voice.

And maybe you were attracted to him. Maybe that's what made you hate him the most.

You tried to ignore him. To enjoy the movie, but you just couldn't. Sam's presence is all too distracting. Danny attempts to break the tension by commenting on the movie but that fails miserably, perhaps even making it worse at points.

Finally, Sam gets up and storms off to his room, his cheeks bright pink. "Jesus Christ," Danny sighs, stretching his arms out. You'd be a lot happier if he hadn't left at the last couple of minutes.

"Hey, Danny can I stay here tonight? It's pretty late and I don't wanna drive home half asleep," you yawn, sitting up and stretching.

"Yeah, I just gotta be somewhere in the morning so," he sits up slightly "you done with the movie?"

You feel bad because the entire movie you sat there annoyed and in a bad mood, but it was long and you're tired "Yeah." You stand up, folding the blanket you used "Should I just stay here on the couch or...?"

"Oh, no. There's that guest room by Sam's. If you go down that hall it's the one right across from his. Got its own bathroom, remember?" he yawns, turning the television off, followed by the lamps surrounding you. "Okay I'm going to bed," he mumbles, placing a hand on your head and ruffling up your hair.

"Goodnight, Danny," you place a quick friendly peck on his cheek and pad to the kitchen. You're practically dying of thirst, grabbing a glass from his cupboard and filling it with cold water.

You sit there silently on his counter and sip your water, listening to the faint rustle coming from Danny's room as he gets ready to go to sleep. Slipping off the counter, you gently discard the glass and find the hall that hosts the guest room. You were positive you knew which room it was, but now that you're standing at the entrance of the dark hallway, you have no idea which one it is.

There are three rooms. One on the right side, one on the left, and one at the end of the hall. It occurs to you that you have no idea which room is Sam's. You listen for any sign of life in the rooms, listening to which side it may be coming from. Very faintly, you hear a soft groan, but you can't decide which room it may have come from.

You hear it again, this time you're sure it was from the right, so you head for the left. Just to be sure, you stop and listen again, but you hear nothing, so you turn the knob and open the door.

Instead of finding an empty room with a cold bed, you find shirtless Sam sitting lazily in a sofa chair. His head is thrown back, hair clung to his neck, lips parted, and cheeks bright pink. It takes you a moment to process what you're seeing, even then you can't seem to look away. His hand swirls around his impossibly hard, angry cock as he mouths something you can't quite understand.

His head snaps over to you, movements slowing down but not stopping. It feels as if you're in a daze, your eyes fixated on his sweaty body and your mouth slightly open. "Get the fuck out," he blurts, his voice rough as if he'd been choking it back.

You practically run out, pulling the door but not fully closing it. You stop in the kitchen, trying to process what just happened. Trying to calm yourself down, you grab the same glass from earlier and pour yourself more water, cupping some in your hands and splashing your face with it.

You throw back the drink, chugging the cold liquid and giving yourself a brain freeze. For a while, you stand there fidgeting with the cold glass and staring at nothing. All you can think about is the way he looked, all red and sweaty. Your mind wanders to his cock, the way his hand glided along the incredible length.

You're startled out of your daze once you hear the sound of footsteps in the kitchen. You spin around to find Sam, still shirtless but with boxers on that fail to hide his bulge.

He angrily stares at you for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest. "Sam I- I'm sorry I didn't kn-" you start to stammer, but he cuts you off.

"Don't fucking tell anyone, Y/N," he takes a step closer to you. You frantically nod your head, finding yourself motionless against the island as Sam slowly moves closer and closer to you. "Say it. Tell me you won't tell anyone," Sam's voice slightly raises, but still quiet enough to not wake Daniel.

"I- I won't tell anyone, I promise," you practically whine, cowering away from him.

"How do I know you won't use that big fucking mouth of yours, hm?" Now his face is only inches from yours and although you're trying your best to avoid his face, he forces you to look at him.

For a moment, you both stand there, silently staring at each other. Your entire body is flushed, the tension is palpable, and the silence is loud.

One of his large hands finds the waistband of your shorts and dips past it, your breaths growing heavier as the rough tips of his fingers begin to trace your hip bone. "Sam.." you mutter, grabbing his wrist, but he slaps you away.

A throbbing sensation pounds at your core, a feeling you know all too well. You hate it. You hate it so much you just wanna slap him. You've fallen into his trap.

But at the same time, you need him. You need him so bad it's embarrassing.

His hand reaches your panties, and you can't help but grab onto the counter behind you, looking down at where his hand is in your shorts. "Look at me," he says roughly, the hand not teasing at your panties coming up to grab your chin, forcing you to make eye contact.

A soft, whiney breath escapes your open mouth once his two middle fingers press against your needy clit. "Yeah, bitchy girl likes that, doesn't she?" Slowly, his fingers begin to massage your clit through your panties, looking into your eyes.

You can't nod, you can't let him know he's right. But even without flat-out telling him yes, he still knows. He can tell by the way your hips buck against his hand, the way you softly moan, and the way your mouth falls open at the smallest movement.

"Doesn't she?" His voice comes out rough, startling you. His finger hooks under the side of your panties. "If you say no, I'll let you go to bed," he slowly moves the fabric to the side. He leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear "if you say yes, I'll give you what you want. Spoil you. Give you something you don't deserve."

His voice sends a shiver up your spine, freezing you in place. He slots his fingers between your folds, just barely brushing against your clit, eliciting an embarrassing whine. He has his answer. He knows. He just wants to hear it.

"Sam," you start with the intention to protest, but quickly realize it's no good once he circles your entrance with his middle finger. "Oh fuck," you struggle to keep your voice a whisper.

It takes you a moment to collect your words and put them into a proper sentence. "Yes," you start, but the tip of his finger just slightly slipping into your entrance interrupts you. It doesn't take long for you to realize that you're not gonna be able to get that sentence out, watching as a smirk grows on his stupid face and his eyes become unbelievably dark.

"Good girl," Sam purrs into your ear, leaning even closer and taking the shell of it between his teeth. That alone could make you whine, so when he shoves his two middle fingers into you, a cry flies past your lips.

His brows furrow and the hand not toying with you clamps over your mouth. His fingers curl harshly up into you before he slides the digits out of you and brings them up to his lips. That pounding at your core grows even worse as you watch him take the fingers into his mouth, licking up your juices and releasing them from his mouth with a pop.

The hand over your mouth moves to be prying your jaw open, shoving his fingers into your mouth. He closes your mouth around the digits, forcing you to taste the mix of your juices and his saliva and you start to gag on his fingers as he shoves them further and further into your mouth.

By the time he finally takes them out of your mouth, you're practically gasping for air, the tips of his fingers keep your tongue sticking out of your mouth. To your surprise, he leans in, his mouth incredibly close to yours for a moment before he sticks his tongue out and licks yours.

You suck in a loud gasp at the action, and you hate yourself for how much you enjoyed it. He hums, dropping his hands to the small of your back, licking along your jawline and sucking a the soft flesh into his mouth. "S- Sam," you whine, trying to push him away but to no avail.

"Don't do that," you push again, your brows knitting together. The last thing you want is to wake up with ugly purple splotches covering your neck. He simply huffs a laugh and you feel him smile against your skin before he takes the flesh between his teeth.

He lifts that same hand up back to your mouth and once again practically shoves his fingers down your throat. You let out a cry of surprise, your eyes growing comically large as you realize how loud it was.

Before you can even blink, Sam takes his fingers out of your mouth, raising his hand up and letting it come down against your cheek. You try to stifle the yelp that threatens to spill past your lips, but you're not very successful. The stinging sensation that follows hurts so good.

His wet fingers squeeze your cheeks and he leans in, his face mere centimeters from yours. "Y/N, you make one more noise, and I'm taping your mouth shut. Got it?" His dark, lust blown eyes stare so intensely into yours that you just want to curl up into a ball and shrink in size.

He lets go of your cheeks and you frantically nod your head. A smirk grows on his lips at your response, his hand slowly making it's way down your torso till it reaches the waistband of your shorts. He uses his thumb to pull the band, creating an opening for his fingers to meet your core.

His other hand comes back up to your mouth, and you whine against his palm at the pressure. Thank God for his hand, because the whimper that slips past your lips once his fingers reach your core could've easily woken anybody near. He's staring into your eyes, but his gaze narrows and his brows furrow in annoyance at every single squeak you fail to hide.

He spreads your arousal around your folds, bringing it up to your clit and drawing small circles over the needy bud. Your hand flies to his wrist, digging your nails into the soft flesh as his fingers speed up against your clit. Every time your eyes wander off or your eyelids start to flutter shut, he forces you to keep your eyes on him.

So many emotions rush through you. Anger. Annoyance. Lust. Frustration. Desire. He's driving you crazy, and he loves it. Every single whine you let out, every time you squeeze him, every time your knees threaten to buckle, puts a smile on his stupid smug face.

He hates you. You hate him. For some sick reason it intensifies your desire for him more than words could ever explain. And he'd be a complete and utter liar if he said he didn't feel the same.

You hate it so much you could cry, but at the same time you can't get enough. You couldn't be able to walk away if you wanted to. He's too alluring. His body is like a magnet.

Your eyes roll back into your head, involuntarily bucking your hips against his hand. Sam lets out a low chuckle at your reaction and presses against your clit. "Yeah, that's right. Feel my fingers. They feel good, huh little slut?" He comes down to your neck, biting the flesh as his fingers speed up against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You frantically nod your head, grinding against his fingers. Those skilled hands of his work deliciously over your poor sensitive clit and your whines against his hand grow louder. You don't know how much longer you can go before you're sent hurdling over the edge.

A pressure builds right below your belly button and its getting harder and harder to keep your voice down. Even muffled by his hand you're still embarrassingly loud. Your knees buckle and your thighs tremble, his fingers show no mercy for your bundle of nerves as he hums against your neck.

It's just his fingers, but they're so skilled. So incredibly experienced. You throw your head back, mumbling profanities against his hand, ultimately coming out inaudible. As your pleasure intensifies, so does his pace. So does his pressure against the sweet sensitive bud.

"Yeah that's it, cum for me doll," his fingers move from your clit and effortlessly slide into your entrance, flicking against a soft spot. His hand around your mouth forces your head up to look at him. Your eyes widen and you let out an incredibly loud whimper against his hand as that band of pleasure snaps.

"Such a good little whore," he comes down to whisper against your neck, and you feel his shoulders bounce. He's giggling. His fingers don't slow down, and his thumb starts to play with your clit.

You violently shake your head against his hand, your eyes wide as you fight against him. Despite your efforts, he doesn't stop. In fact, he speeds up. Your eyes prick with tears and you watch as he sinks to his knees in front of you.

The hand that was covering your mouth slowly slides down your body, stopping at your navel "take your shirt off." Your brows knit together and your eyes flick to the direction of Daniel's room, but you do as he says. Slowly, you lift the hem of your shirt, hooking your fingers under your bra as you go. Sam's eyes study every second. Every inch of your torso. He watches carefully as you lift the thin fabric over your head and it drops to the floor.

His hand is still toying with your cunt, the other starting to slowly pull down your shorts and panties. As your clothes go lower down your body, so do his kisses. His lips start at your belly button, then slowly move down till they're right at your slit.

Now you're completely exposed. Daniel could walk in at any second and see you and Sam like this. For some reason, the thought goes straight to your cunt, turning you on even more.

His breath is warm against your heat, fueling the fire inside of you. Suddenly, a yelp slips out of your mouth once his tongue finds your clit. His dark eyes angrily flick up to yours and you clamp your own hand over your mouth.

His tongue dances so delicately around your folds, tasting you as if you're the sweetest honey he's ever had. Your entire body shudders, the feeling of his sweet tongue over your overstimulated clit sends shocks of electricity through your body.

His fingers move in sync with his tongue, his other hand squeezing your thigh. Your thighs are trembling and shaking at an immense speed, your knees threatening to completely give out. You're already there. His fingers curl up into a sweet spot that makes your eyes roll. You've gotten over the overstimulation, now you're falling over the edge.

You let out a cry against your hand as your orgasm clouds your head for the second time in a row. Sam withdrawals his fingers from you just in time, because suddenly your legs give out from underneath you and you're collapsing in his lap.

He lets you sit there for just long enough to find your composure before he's forcing you both up. Once he's on his feet, he grabs your hair in a bundle and pulls you up to meet him.

A surprised whimper falls past your lips once he spins you around so that your back is flush to his chest. One arm wraps around your body at your bust, the other holds your ass firm against his body. "Feel that?" His low voice sends a shiver up your spine as he whispers into your ear. "Feel my cock against your pretty little ass?" He presses harder against you.

"This little problem," he growls "do you have any idea how annoying it is?" He wiggles his hips against you, and you feel that pounding return to your core. "Now you're gonna help me fix it. You're gonna take every inch of my cock like the little slut you are."

You don't try to hide the soft, breathy moan that falls past your lips at his words. Your entire body becomes flushed a deep red color, so intense to the point that it starts to give you a headache. Without warning, he's sweeping you off your feet and carrying you off to his room, your clothes still on the kitchen floor.

Everything happens in mere seconds. He's practically running to his room, sending the door flying open and throwing you on the bed. He eagerly climbs on top of you, marveling at your naked body. He leaves a trace of kisses down torso, sucking the skin of your hip into his mouth.

He gets up, frantically closing and locking the door. He turns back to you, sliding his boxers down his legs, his cock springing free. He tossed the fabric off from around his feet and takes himself in his hand. The sight drives you mad. His long, hard cock in his large hand. Just so eager to feel you. Begging for pleasure. You can see every vein, even from where you are. He's so turned on it's unbelievable.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on the flesh at the sight of him. His brows are furrowed as he stares at you, his large hand starting to slowly pump his length. It takes everything in you to not give in and touch yourself, the pounding at your core has become so incredibly unbearable just the slightest touch would break you.

Silently, he walks to you, his angry pink tip dripping with precum. "Sit up," he demands, still stroking himself at such a slow pace that it makes you wince. You do just as he says, not even bothering to think about how desperate you probably look.

Sam slowly crawls onto the bed, moving up so that his knees are on each side of your thighs and you're face to face with his cock. He doesn't even give a warning or anything before he grabs your hair in a bundle and forces your mouth onto him. You're just lucky he didn't force his entire length down your throat.

You quickly adjust to his thickness and start to glide your tongue along his cock, his hand guiding you. Sam lets out a breathy noise and his grip on your hair tightens once you start to speed up. "Fuck- that's it, Y/N," he mutters, feeling your mouth as you suck harder around his cock.

His hips start to buck forward, making his cock tickle the very back of your throat. You take him as far into your mouth as you possibly can, your eyes filling with tears at every thrust of his hips. You pull back, wrapping your hand around his cock, squeezing him tight as you start to lap at his slit. His head falls back and strings of profanities escape his plump pink lips, you know he won't last much longer like this.

The hand around his cock starts to stroke along his length, not once loosening your grip as you tease his angry tip. "Oh fuck-" he blurts, his voice rough and his hips jutting forward at the sensation. His hands tug harshly at your hair, and you use it as encouragement, every pull of your hair you reward, sucking harder or stroking faster.

It's almost humorous how fast you drive him to the edge, every profanity in the dictionary is flying past his lips and he's bringing you to tears with how hard he's pulling your hair. Suddenly, he forces your hand off of him and grasps the back of your head, practically shoving his cock down your throat. He thrusts once, and that's all it takes for his hot release to spurt into the back of your throat.

For a few moments, he keeps you there, forcing you to swallow every last drop of him. "Shit-" he speaks, out of breath. "Where'd you learn that?" He removes himself from you, but he doesn't give you enough time to answer before he's forcing you around onto your stomach. His calloused fingertips grab at the supple flesh at the back of your thighs, forcing your legs open.

A loud, surprised moan escapes your lips as his fingers just barely touch your cunt. He collects your arousal on his fingertips, spreading it around your core. "Jesus Christ," he groans "you're so fucking wet." The pillows stifle the moans and whimpers that you make at the slight touch.

"So fucking horny," His fingers start to massage your clit, but before you can even begin to enjoy it, he moves his hand to slap your ass, eliciting a loud yelp. "So needy. Wouldn't wanna have to make you beg for it, would I?" he comes down, and you gasp as he starts to place open mouth kisses to your ass, his tongue lapping at the red skin.

"Please, Sam," you practically cry into the sheets, clawing the fabric. He simply just snickers at your plead, continuing to kiss everywhere but the area you need him to touch the most.

"Sam," you whine, but he's just ignoring you. "Sam Kiszka I swear to fucking god," you say harshly, moving your head so that he can hear you clearly. You feel him huff a laugh against your inner thigh, "fine. If you want it so bad." You let out a sigh, a little squeak following it once his tongue reaches your core.

He circles your entrance with his tongue, the very tip of it prodding you. He repeats this until you're a sweaty mess, your hair clung to your neck, your thighs shaking from trying to create any sort of friction, and your hands grasping onto the sheets for dear life. You can't form a sentence, every word you try to speak just comes out as a squeaky whimper and you can tell he's enjoying this 10x more than you.

You let out a squeaky sigh once he pulls back, and he brings his cock to your entrance. He slides his tip through your core, groaning as he feels the wetness of your folds around him. Pathetic moans roll off your tongue and you try to clamp your thighs around his lower body, but he slaps the back of your thigh and pries your legs apart.

A loud, whiney cry rips through your chest as he sinks into you, and the sting of his cock stretching you out without warning robs you of any self respect you had left. "Oh- fuck," Sam groans, bottoming out inside you and staying there for a moment. You claw at the sheets, a yelp escaping your mouth once he starts to mercilessly thrust into you.

One deep and intoxicating thrust, then another, then another until he's worked up the perfect pace that drives you mad. "Oh Sam- fuck," you cry, arching your back into the bed. "Shit, Y/N," Sam mutters, having to practically rip your hands off the sheets to hold them behind your back.

You cry his name at a particularly sharp thrust, and curse yourself for how much you're enjoying it. He feels too good, you hate it. You hate the fact that you're just like every other girl he's hooked up with. But most of all, you hate the fact that you denied him for so long. Forced down those dirty thoughts that would surface in your mind about him. "Yeah, feels good doesn't it, little slut?" He punctuates his words with sharp movements.

You fail at trying to form a sentence. Every time you open your mouth, a pathetic moan falls past your swollen red lips. You hear him snicker behind you, and the hand not firmly holding your hands behind your back moves to your ass. He grabs at the supple flesh, kneading it in his hands as he fucks his anger out on you.

"yes," you cry out "so fucking good, Sam." You know Daniel can absolutely hear, but you're past the point of caring. "I've seen the way you look at me. You try to act like you don't touch yourself thinking of me but really, you're just as bad as the rest of them. Just dying to let me use you like the little whore you know you are." Sam starts to go even deeper, as if that was even possible, his tip is all but brushing against your cervix. And oh how he's so right.

"holy fucking-" you're on the verge of screaming, tears pricking your waterline once again. "God, who would've known you're so filthy?" You hear the grin in his voice, and his hand grasps your ass so hard you're sure you'll wake up to bruises. "I mean, really. Letting me use you like this. Cumming all over my hands in the kitchen," He breathes, and you can tell he's struggling to keep a steady voice and form coherent sentences of his own.

"You know, Daniel could've walked in at any time. Saw you acting like the little fucking whore you are for me," he sends a sharp thrust into you, hitting a part of you that you didn't even know someone could reach. "But I bet that just turned you on even more, huh? The thought of being so exposed in there just made you cum so hard, didn't it?" With every single word comes a rough movement of his hips, and you can't see him, but you know theres a stupid smirk playing on his face.

"Sam I- I'm gonna," you whine, clawing at his wrist. "Yeah? Little slut gonna cum?" He snickers, his pace slowing down, his thrusts becoming slower as he sinks completely into to, hitting every sweet spot known to woman kind. "Yes. Yes yes," you bite the sheets, your nails still digging into his wrists.

Your cries and moans grow unbelievably loud, intensifying with each movement. "That's it, baby, cum for me," Sam grabs your hips, lifting them up off the bed so that your ass is in the air. With one final thrust, you're coming undone. Completely unraveling beneath him. "Fuck fuck fuck," you moan, burning white flames of pleasure dancing viciously around your tummy.

Sam almost immediately pulls out, your juices dripping down your sweaty thigh. He drops your hips and you fall back down on the bed, softly moaning and whimpering as you come down from the high.

A surprised whimper slips past your lips once he grabs you by your waist and flips you around "don't think for a second that I'm done with you." He grabs you by your waist, picking you up and throwing you against the arm rest of the sofa chair you walked in on him in.

It's as if you regained consciousness because right before you hit the furniture, you brace your arms against the other side of the sofa, catching yourself. "Sam what are you-" you start, but he cuts you off. "I'm gonna make you cum as many times as I want, sweetheart," he grabs his cock, pumping slowly a few times.

"Sam I don't know if I can.." you whine, but this just makes him snicker. He ignores you, and you yelp once he thrusts into you. He doesn't wait. Doesn't give you a moment, he just starts fucking into you. He sets an intoxicating pace almost immediately, you're completely drunk off of his cock.

You repeat his name over and over like a mantra, your moans growing louder and louder with each thrust. His cock rams into you, and Sam's making sure he's going as deep into you as he possibly can. "Shit. You're so fucking-" Sam groans, but he doesn't finish his sentence. He bends over, his chin resting against your bare back and he takes the sweaty flesh between his teeth.

You claw the fabric of the sofa, the lewd sounds of your skin snapping together and your sexes mixing fill the humid air, not to mention the volume of which you're screaming his name. "So fucking dirty," he speaks breathlessly between thrusts "taking my cock like such a good girl."

He stands up again, and your forehead practically slams against the furniture. "Oh fuck me-" you cry, pushing yourself back onto his cock with shaky legs. "But you're so fucking far from that. You're the filthiest little bitch I've ever been with," he roughly thrusts into you after every single word, it's unbelievable how much stamina this man has.

"At least I know how to shut you up now," His hand wraps around your body till it finds your dripping cunt, and elicits a loud yelp once his fingers start to dance over your swollen, oversensitive cit.

"Y'know, I oughta spank you," he groans "dirty little slut." Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the feeling of his skilled fingers working your clit mixed with his cock burying itself deep into your cunt over and over drives you right to the edge. If its even possible, the roaring fire in your tummy intensifies even more.

That same fire burns at the coil of pleasure pulled tightly until it snaps in two, white electricity flowing through your limbs. Despite the fact that every inch of you is trembling and you're overstimulated to the point of tears, you still clamp around his cock, determined to beat him.

"The fuck are you doing?" He slaps your ass and pulls out in one quick motion. Your body goes limp and suddenly, you lose your train of thought. Your words fail you "I- I..." Sam stops you, grabbing you by your torso and flipping you around. "I'll cum when i decide it's time," he speaks lowly, taking your lips in a sloppy, humid kiss before dropping you into the seat.

He hasn't given you any time to cool off, he's already staring down at you with those eyes and stroking his length. "Sam I-" you stutter "Sam I don't know if I can. do another one." You knew you weren't getting out of this one, but the amused look on his face pisses you off.

"It's not that I don't want it I just-" you say rather bitterly, cutting yourself off once you become conscious of the fact that you're almost completely out of breath. "Don't worry, darling. I'll be more gentle this time," he smirks.

You take a deep breath and nod, bringing your legs up to rest on each side of the sofa. His eyes widen at your glistening core, but soon relax as a grin starts to grow on his face. He leans down, breathing heavily on your neck and taking your earlobe in between his teeth. "I still hate your fucking guts," he growls, sending a shiver up your spine.

You let out a breath at the words and reach down to grab his cock, and you start to swirl your hand around his hard length. He nips at your ear again before slapping your hand away, grabbing his cock and dragging it through your soaked folds.

Your head falls back and you grab his arm as his tip starts to tease your clit. "Sam.. please," you whine, arching your back off the arch. He moves himself to like up with your entrance, his tip just barely sinking in. Just that alone elicits whiney moans from you, so when he sinks fully into you a loud cry flies past your lips.

He almost pulls completely out before thrusting back into you, the sensation making your eyes roll back into your head. "This slutty little pussy feels so.." Sam breathes, setting the perfect rhythm. Your hands slowly snake up his body, the tips of your fingers reaching his collarbones, then moving up to the base of his neck.

His deep, slow thrusts are addictive and perfect, but you quickly realize they aren't gonna cut it. You crave more. You need more. Gentle Sam can wait for another time. "Sam... Harder."

Your hands gently wrap around his neck, squeezing slightly as his pace starts to pick up. So much for being gentle. Sam's fingers find your clit, ever so slightly putting pressure on the sensitive bud. "Look at you. Asking for more after complaining about having to fuck me again," Sam purrs, rolling his hips up into you.

"Oh fuck- right there Sam," you mewl. Every inch of your body is trembling and within minutes you're riding the edge of euphoria. "How does it feel, baby?" Sam finds a particularly sensitive spot that elicits the loudest moans and babies it, and his hand that's toying with your clit speeds up. "So fucking good," you whine, your back fully arched off the sofa.

Your moans and cries and mewls grow louder, you're not gonna last much longer. Sam's free hand presses down on your lower tummy, intensifying your pleasure. "Is my little slut close? You gonna cum, baby?" His narrow eyes staring deeply into yours.

"Fuck Sam im-" a guttural moan ripping through your chest cuts you off, and suddenly your vision blurs, your mind fogs, and burning hot white flames of pleasure flow through your limbs. "Oh shit- fuck," Sam grunts, and within seconds his hot release is spurting inside you. Warm ropes of ivory release paint your insides, the feeling making you roll your eyes back into your skull.

His thrusts and fingers slow down but don't stop, helping both you and him ride out the high. Your hands release his neck and drop to your side, the two of you stay just how you are for a while, the sounds of your heavy breathing and occasional whimpers filling the humid air.

"You know. I'm not the little slut you think I am," you roll your eyes. "Well, you certainly fuck like one. I mean, look at you," he looks down at you, and you hate to admit it but you do look filthy. Your legs are as far open as they can go and his cock is covered in your release as he slowly pulls out, juices dripping down your ass.

Your cheeks go a bright shade of red and you look down at the area "Whatever." His fingers collect the release, bringing it up to your mouth and once again forcing you to taste both yourself and him. You moan against his fingers at the taste, a smirk growing on his lips.

His fingers leave your mouth with a pop before he licks up your saliva and the rest of the juices. Sam walks off and you hear his feet pad across the kitchen, coming back with your clothes. He drops them on the floor, walking right past you to the bathroom.

He stops, realizing you're not following him "You wanna clean up or what? C'mon."

[boldlyvoid]

Carpet Burns

18+ Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: after a long week apart, they can barely make it through the front door without ravaging each other

warnings: PDA, making out, alcohol use, eddie doesn't wear his seatbelt, fingering her in the passenger seat, finger sucking, wall sex, table sex, floor sex... dirty talk, daddy kink rough sex, carpet burns

word count: 3.4k

The plan was to meet Eddie at the bar on Friday after a long week apart, both with steady jobs and living in different parts of town, it was hard to meet up daily like they wanted. 

They craved each other deeply. 

Sure, he calls her most night and she hears his deep voice in her ear as he tells her all the nasty things he would be doing to her if he was there. He hears her pleasuring herself with a smirk on his face and his cock in his hand the whole time… but it’s not the same as being together. There’s something so satisfying about feeling all 200 pounds of Eddie on top of her, under her, behind her— you name it, they’ve done it, and she wants more. So, so much more. 

She’s able to have 1 drink before he shows up, something about a transmission on a Chrysler kept him a little later at the shop and then he went home to shower the grease off, which sucked for her… there’s something about him when he’s sweaty and smells like work that makes her go feral, but the smell of his cologne draws the essence back out of him. She smells him before she sees him, turning into his chest as he wraps his arm around her and kisses the back of her neck. 

“Hello there,” he says between kisses, “didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” 

“It’s okay,” she smiles, standing on her tip-toes and leaning in for a real kiss, she purses her lips and meets him halfway. 

The first kiss after a long week is always the best kind. It's the way his grip tightens on her hips and pulls her in closer so they’re chest to chest… she settles, dropping back to her normal height and bringing him down with her 'cause he can’t let her go, he breathes her in like this is the last kiss he’ll ever get from her, savouring every second. 

They’re both wide-eyed and bushy-tailed as they stare at each other, catching their breaths and smiling, “hi?” She couldn’t believe how intense that was, “how are you?” 

“I’m good, hot stuff,” he says, his hand following the curve of her body down to her ass and grabbing a fistful. “Been here long?” 

“About 20 minutes,” she shrugs, it’s nothing too bad. “You want a beer?”

He nods, “yeah, maybe just one… I don’t want to be out too long tonight.” 

“Oh no?” She can’t fight off her smile, “and why’s that?” 

“You fuckin’ know why,” he all but growls in her ear, “this dress? Really?” 

She giggles and leans in closer to his ear, “I’m also not wearing any panties…” 

“Yep, no beer for me, lets go,” he smacks her ass and attempts to lift her up so he can walk out with her but she laughs and puts up a fight until her feet are securely back on the floor. 

“I have to pay my tab first,” she smacks his chest. “We have all night, seriously, why can’t we have a drink and tease each other a little first?” 

“Is that what you want?” He asks, looking down at her with his big doe eyes and his bangs falling into view. He looks her up and down again and shakes his head when he realizes she’s serious, “okay, just… I’m not responsible for how feral I’ll be when we get home.” 

“Oh, no, that’s fine… that’s actually exactly what I wanted,” she teases and pushes away from his chest slowly enough for him to take her hand and walk with her towards the bar.

They get a drink each and he orders some food for them too, they take a booth in the back corner and it’s perfectly secluded enough for him to sit real close to her. He keeps his hand on her thigh, caressing her skin with his thumb while she talks about her day and the shit she had to go through at work. He watches with such an intent face, nodding along and asking questions, he’s so into her she can feel it radiating from him. 

“And how was your day, big guy?”

“Eh?” He shrugs, “nothing big to report, I think my night is going to be the highlight…” 

“Yeah?” 

He nods, eyeing her up while his hand goes further up her thigh and under her skirt. “I really hope we're on the same page right now baby… I want you so bad, as soon as we get home I want you. I need you.” 

His voice is so deep and his eyes are so dark as he talks directly to her deepest desires. She sits up straighter as a shiver runs through her body and goes straight to her clit, she stutters on her own breath and swallows sharply, she nods lightly, “yeah, oh, yeah, same fuckin’ page…”

“Are you done here?” He references their empty plate and her mostly finished drink. She nods, not even looking at the table, she just wants to go home. So Eddie takes her home. 

She didn’t live too far, she was able to walk over to the bar knowing that Eddie would drive them back to her place. He loves to open her door and help her step up into his van and into the seat, he buckles her in himself and kisses her forehead before he closes the door. Once he’s in his seat he starts the van and puts his hand right back on her thigh, up higher than before, he slips right under the skirt of her dress and gives her skin a squeeze. 

“Were you serious?” 

“Yeah, I want to fuck you too, Eddie,” she laughs, he’s always double-checking. 

He chuckles as his hand goes up higher, “no, no… I meant were you serious about the no panties, sweetheart?” He cups her cunt with a content groan, he slips his middle finger between her pussy lips to find out just how badly she wants to fuck him too. “Oh, fuck, you’re so wet?” 

“Mhm,” she bites her lip and balls her hands into fits and keeps them at her sides. She doesn’t want to buck up into his touch or ask for too much, she knows he has to drive soon but his finger glides against her clit and her eyes flutter, her heart speeds up and her breathing changes. 

He takes his hand away from her and brings it right to his mouth to suck on his middle finger, tasting her for the first time in too long. He just needed a clean hand to put the van in drive and leave the parking lot, once they’re on the road, his hand will go right back. And thank god. She unconsciously spread her legs in his absence, her pussy pulsated with want, calling for him to come back. She watches his face as he pays attention to the traffic, he’s concentrated and a good driver but she needs his hand back. 

She takes a leap of faith and lays her left hand on his bicep, he’s just wearing a plain black t-shirt so his tattoos are visible and his muscles look good while he grips the steering wheel. She just likes to be touching him all the time when they’re together, and if he can't have his hand up her skirt right now, she was going to play with the hem of his shirt and tease him the way she knew he liked. His forearms broke out in goosebumps and his hair stood straight up, making her smile to herself. 

He finally reaches out and puts his hand back on her thigh but she redirects him up to her cunt. “Eager, are we?” 

She nods, “please?” She holds his wrist with her right hand and wraps her left around his bicep again, holding onto him as his finger makes contact with her clit once more. “Oh, thank you,” she moans, relaxing into her seat finally. 

He smirks, watching the road but he can see her head lulled back in his peripheral vision. “Let me hear you, baby, it’s just us…” 

“I’ve missed your fingers,” she admits through bated breath. “Oh my god, Eddie,” she pushes her hips up into his touch for more, feeling him press into her harder, he uses his forefingers to rub her clit now. She’s so fucking wet he can hear it alongside her whimpers and moans for more. 

“You’re gonna soak my seats, princess,” he teases, not really caring if she left a puddle behind… it would actually be really fucking hot. 

“Feels, oh god, feels so good, I— oh,” she bucks her hips up against his hand he knows she’s close. She grips onto his bicep harder, “I wanna cum, please? Please? Can I cum?” 

He smirks, turning onto her street, he could either let her cum now or make her hold off until he’s inside her… “cum, princess,” he lets her go. She’s going to be so much more pliant and overstimulated once he gets her through the door, if she cums now, and she does. 

With her head tossed back against the headrest and her hand over his, she pushed his hand against her harder and cums with a shout. Her legs tremble, her pussy quakes, and he can feel her empty hole flutter as she craves more. He lets her ride it out on his hand, he gently rubs her clit through it and lets her hump his hand until she settles again. 

She barely notices that he’s parked outside her apartment now. “I need my hand back, baby…” 

She grips his wrist with both hands and brings it to her own mouth, tasting herself just to egg him on. She sucks on two of his fingers at once, and he can’t help himself from turning more toward her and watching her tongue swirl around his fingers, cleaning them up. He reaches out with his other hand and cups her cheek, fucking his fingers into her mouth, her eyes roll back and she moans. 

“Baby,” he coos, drawing his fingers back from her, he notices the pads are all wrinkled from her wetness, he rubs them over her newly swollen lips, getting some of the residual cum on her lips before he dives in and kisses her on an impulse. His wet fingers are now around her throat, she moans into the kiss, wanting to climb the centre console and sit right in his lap but she’s still buckled in, unlike him. He barely buckled up, no matter how much she told him it wasn’t safe. 

She starts to whine into the kiss, making grabby hands at his shirt, she needs more than this. He pulls back with a shit-eating grin, “what? Still not satisfied?” 

She shakes her head, “you know I’m not… and it’s your fault I’m like this, to begin with.”

“Is it?” He was surprised she was so testy this time. She never normally bites back. “I’m sure you were already an insatiable whore when we met I just let you get away with it… I could stop?” 

“No, no, no, please? Come inside with me?” She begs, “I need it, I want you to fuck me so hard tonight, like so, so hard.” Her eyes get impossibly big as she begs, her bottom lip sticks out in the sweetest pout and he caves. 

“Okay, come on,” he pulls back and rips the keys from the ignition. 

She’s quick to take off her seatbelt and push the door open, she hops out of the van and fixes the skirt of her dress so that she’s all covered on her walk to the door. Eddie meets her around on her side and wraps an arm around her on the walk-up. He has a key to her apartment, it’s for locking up when he leaves early on Monday mornings and times like these. 

He unlocks the door, gets them inside and pushes her up against it the moment it’s closed again. With her eyes closed and his mouth on hers again, she feels up the door and locks it again so they don’t have to worry about that later. His hands go under her dress and cup her ass, he mumbles something that sounds like “jump,” into her mouth and so she does. She wraps her legs around him and he holds her there against the door, the bulge behind his jean zipper collides with her cunt and she moans into his mouth at the feeling. 

He holds her there against the door, kissing her neck and jaw while she tries the get access to his belt buckle, “ed, Eddie, I can’t,” she complains, tossing her head back cause his kisses feel too good, she can’t get him out of his pants and she wants him inside of her like yesterday. 

He turns them away from the door, ready to carry her blindly through the little apartment, past the kitchen and back to her bedroom but he bumps into the table and just lays her on top of it. She has mail and placemats under her, but it’s steady enough to hold her while he takes his shirt off and she can pull his belt from the loops. His lips are back on hers in no time, she gets a hand in his boxers and starts to stroke his cock as he sucks on her tongue, moaning into her mouth. 

He runs his hands over her hips and grips her little dress, he feels around her back to see if it has a zipper or anything but it doesn’t so he just starts to tug it up. He pulls away from her enough to get her dress over her head and off of her so she’s just in her bra now. She pushes down his jeans and his boxers until they’re at his knees and she strokes his cock while looking him right in the eyes. “You gonna fuck me on the table?” 

He shakes his head and tugs her off of the table and back to her own feet, he spins her around and brushes her hair off of her neck so he can kiss her shoulder and up towards her ear, “is that what you want?” 

She nods, “show me how much you missed me… you talked a big game on the phone this week—” 

He pushes her chest down against the table and taps his cock on her ass cheeks, “did I?” 

“Mhm,” she pushes back against him, antagonizing him further. 

He grips her ass and spreads her cheeks, watching her pussy open, glistening with slickness, he takes his cock in his other hand and teases the tip over her hole, covering himself in her juices. He presses against her hole, teasing her but never going in no matter how much she pushed back against him and whines. He slips his cock between her pussy lips and squeezes her legs closed again, engulfing his cock in her heat, he rocks his hips gently and mimics what it would be like to fuck her right now. He loves to watch her get desperate and needy and he wants to hear her beg. 

She straightens up, standing with his chest to her back, he kisses her shoulder and she reaches back to hold his hips and keep in locked there, “please?” She turns her head to see him and catches his lips in a kiss. He cups her tits with one hand and soothes his other hand over her lower stomach while he thrusts his hips lightly, the head of his cock nudging her aching clit, making her breath heavier. 

She moans into his mouth and grips his hips tighter, pulling away before he can stick his tongue down her throat anymore, “please?” 

“Please what?” He teases her more, pushing her back down against the table and fucking her thighs with a bit more intent. “Say it?” 

“Fuck me, please? I’ve been waiting all week, daddy, I need your cock.” 

There it is. That’s all he’s been waiting for. He knew she was ready when she called him daddy. Thats when he knew she was really gone for him. Without warning, he pulls his cock out from between her lips and pushes himself inside of her, slowly but surely. He feels her tighten and gasp at the same time, her hands now gripping the edge of the table and attempting to push her back against him so he’d bottom out quicker. There’s nothing she loves more than feeling him fully inside of her and pressed up against her. 

“Move, please? Oh my god,” she begs again, arching her back and pushing back against him and her legs wobble… she’s not going to be able to keep herself upright for this. 

With his cock still fully inside her, he wraps his arm around her middle and picks her up, bringing them down to the floor and onto his knees. She is so shocked but she goes with it, face against the carpet and ass in the air, he uses her love handles to manhandle her into the best position before he starts to fuck her… really fuck her. 

She’s usually loud, but the pure shock of his thrusts makes her scream with each pound against her cervix. He’s so deep inside of her, he pushes one of her legs up and goes even deeper. He drops down against her back, and she feels him absolutely everywhere, all his weight on her back, he kisses her shoulder and grazes his teeth against her skin, “fuck baby, oh I missed how well you take me, sweet girl. So fucking tight for me.” 

“Oh my god,” she pops her head up and turns to kiss him. His hand rests against her throat to hold her in place while he keeps pounding into her, surely she’s going to have carpet burn in the morning but they didn’t care. He just fucks her harder while she sucks on his tongue. 

She doesn’t often cum from just penetration, but this… this was so much more than that. He was nudging her cervix with each thrust, sending shockwaves through her body she felt like she could cum any second and then he pulls away from the kiss. He pushes her down against the floor again and pounds her even harder, she moves on the floor, almost getting away from him from how much force he fucks her with, panting and sweating, he has to pause to push his hair out of his eyes and when he does that, he turns her on her side and pushes one of her legs up to her chest before fucking back into her. 

Her knees, chest and shoulders are red from the carpet but it just turns him on more. She cups one of her tits and the other hand lays flat against the floor. Her eyes are closed, her mouth fell open and tears start to fall down her cheeks. “Holy fu— oh my god,” she gasps as he starts to rub her clit again, wanting her to cum with him. 

“Come on, princess, I know this is what you wanted,” he speaks through his teeth, holding back as best as he could but she’s so wet and so tight and it’s been a long week, he can’t go on like this much longer. “Cum for me, soak my cock, baby.” 

“Oh, fuck!” She arches her back, closer now with the verbal permission, she loved being told what to do. 

He fucks her faster now, sprinting to the finish line, she sucks him in tighter and he feels her start to flutter again. She is right there… “right there!” She encourages. “Oh my god, oh fuck, daddy, Daddy I’m cumming!” 

The sound that comes out of her is a pitch he’s never heard her reach before, it’s so fucking hot that he buries his cock inside of her and cums with a grunt. He drops down on top of her, the two of them breathing so heavily and sticky with sweat, she wraps her arms around him and holds him there. 

He bites her shoulder gently and then covers it with a kiss, he props himself up after a second, still inside of her, still breathing heavily… he brushes her hair off her face and smiles at her, “that what you wanted?” 

She giggles, smiling like a fool, “yeah, yeah, that was everything…” 

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual

Eddie

@fightingdragonswithwho @kyomito @reidselle @venomsvl @nomajdetective @girl-with-an-orange-cat @blairscott @princesseddie @luna-munson83 @ches-86 @manda-panda-monium 

[xoxoavenger]

Now I'm Bleeding

pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

summary: To kiss in cars and downtown bars/Was all we needed/You drew stars around my scars/But now I'm bleedin'

word count: 877

cardigan masterlist main masterlist

"Stop making out in the backseat!" Pope screams, swerving as he looks at them in the rearview mirror. Y/N laughs and knocks her head into the door, but she doesn't notice with all the alcohol coursing through her system.

It was John B's birthday, so Pope had offered to be a DD when they decided to go to the mainland to drink. Usually Y/N and JJ were the only ones who drank on the mainland, so everyone was excited for the new experience of actually doing a bar crawl that wasn't going back and forth between the two bars in OBX that weren't overcharging tourons. Instead of birthday presents, everyone had chipped in on renting a mini van that could fit all six of them. Their plan was to sleep in it, because after that there was no money left over for a hotel room. Y/N and JJ had assured them that there was no need for a hotel room anyway, but after they had been sprayed with the sprinkler that one time everyone had been hesitant to believe them.

"Let them live, Pope!" Kiara yells in the front seat, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her drink that she had somehow taken from the last bar, glass and all. They pulled up to the next location within the minute, and everyone stumbled out of the car. Sarah almost tripped and landed face first on the sidewalk, but luckily John B had gotten out first and was able to stop her from splitting her lip open. She laughed into his arms, and he seemed a little concerned at first before she kissed him and he seemed to forget it all.

"Maybe we should just find a hotel room for the night," Pope suggested to deaf ears as they all walked into the bar. It was getting late, and everyone continued to get sloppier as they ordered a round of drinks. Y/N was sitting on JJ's lap as the room spun around her, but his hand on her hip was the epicenter keeping her steady. She leaned into his chest, closing her eyes for a moment. She was exhausted, but so content. It was her best friend's birthday and she was out with her chosen family, sitting on her boyfriend's lap. She couldn't think of a more perfect moment.

"I'm gonna miss this when you're gone, J." Y/N is sure she misheard John B. She's sure she missed a key word, or maybe John B had way too much to drink and was mixing movies with real life. She's so sure that all she does is open her eyes, not even asking for clarification. She doesn't notice the way JJ tenses against her, his knuckles white on his drink.

"What are you talking about?" Kiara asks seriously, seeming to sober up a bit.

"JJ got a surfing model thing in Australia!" John B slurs, holding his drink up to JJ in cheers. Y/N chuckles. Now she's sure her friend is confusing movies with real life, and she almost lifts her drink in a mock cheer.

"No he doesn't." She says it with confidence, shaking her head and laughing. In her drunk mind, this is so funny. She wonders what movie John B must be thinking about.

"You didn't tell her?" John B's eyes go wide, lowering his drink as his voice clears a little bit. "Oh shit," He mutters.

"John B," Sarah starts, looking between her boyfriend and JJ. Y/N still doesn't get it, giggling.

"JJ isn't going to Australia!" She says, as if this was the most outrageous thing that's ever been said. "Maybe Pope was right and we do need to get a hotel." She turns to JJ to see his reaction, and that's when she notices how stiff he's gone, how hard his hand was gripping her hip and the drink.

How quiet he was.

"Jayj," She starts. She doesn't want to believe it. There's no way her boyfriend kept this from her. "Tell him you're not going to Australia," If she was sober, there'd be a smile painted on her face. But she can't keep her emotions in check when she's drunk, so the panic she feels is broadcast to the entire table.

"Y/N," His hand tightens so much that it pinches, and she moves from him. He goes to grab her, but they were at the end of the booth so she's already up, moving away from him. The way he said her name tells her everything she needs to know.

"No," She feels numb as she stumbles through the bar, pushing everyone out of her way. She barely makes it through the door before she trips to the sidewalk, blessedly empty at this time of night as she falls to her hands and knees. She hears her friends come out the doors in a rush, and it isn't until JJ puts his arm on her shoulder that she feels sick.

JJ is leaving. He's leaving her and he didn't even tell her. She can practically feel her body open up and her heart being ripped out of her body. When she closes her eyes, she thinks she sees blood, gushing from her open wound. She opens her eyes and heaves forward as she throws up. 

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler

[glorious-spoon]

your way or nothing at all [9-1-1 | Eddie Diaz | 1/1]

1500 words character study | mild angst | weddings | background buck/tommy, eddie/marisol | pre-relationship buddie | not quite a feelings realization for eddie but he's getting there

-

In the quieting dark, Eddie lingers by the tables, the empty chairs pushed together in a cluster for a conversation long since abandoned. It's late enough that people are starting to filter out into the night, and pretty much everybody left is crowded at the open bar or swaying on the dance floor. At the high table, Maddie has Buck's suit jacket draped over her shoulders and her cheek tipped against Chim's shoulder, and he's looking down at her with a dopily besotted expression that Eddie can clock even from here.

It makes him feel like—something, some kind of nostalgia for the wedding he never got to have with Shannon. That whole day felt like being hustled through a play that he never learned his lines to. Shannon was three months pregnant and deep in the throes of vicious morning sickness that was not improved by the catering or the stress of the day, so he spent their wedding night holding back her hair in the honeymoon suite his parents paid for and trying desperately to feel like he had a single fucking clue what he was doing. Trying to feel like a man and a husband and a father-to-be and mostly feeling like a complete fraud.

They deserved better. Both of them. Now, in this moment, after this day, it soothes more than it stings to watch Maddie and Chim hold onto each other so easily.

The song changes, and he watches a swirl of motion on the bar side of the dance floor, the particular energy that's easily identifiable as Buck even before he emerges from the crowd. Normally, maybe Eddie would gravitate in, but Buck's got a hand linked together with Tommy's, and they're laughing, and so he stays where he is. Just watches.

It's sweet, a little fumbling as Buck very obviously tries to figure out the logistics of slow-dancing with another guy. Tommy says something in a low voice and settles a palm on his hip, and Buck ducks his head, laughing, and leans into him.

It's sweet. It is. Eddie's throat fucking aches.

He doesn't know why, not really. Maybe it's the smile on Buck's face, wide and giddy and almost embarrassingly bright. He never smiled at Natalia like that, or Taylor. Maybe Ali, but the truth is that back then Eddie wasn't looking for it. Back then, he was so caught up in everything with Shannon, and he and Buck were barely more than friendly coworkers, as strange as that idea seems now.

He probably smiled at Abby like that. Eddie wasn't around for that relationship, only the aftermath, but he can imagine it. You don't hurt that badly when someone leaves you unless you really fucking loved them.

"You would not believe the line for the bathroom," Marisol says from behind him, and Eddie jolts like he just grabbed a high-voltage wire. He tries to spin it into something graceful as he turns to face her, but he's pretty sure it doesn't work, and also pretty sure that he shouldn't be feeling quite so jumpscared at the sight of his girlfriend. His heart is pounding. He rubs his knuckles against his sternum, and Marisol asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he says. "Sorry. You startled me."

"No, it's fine." She smiles at him, and it's pretty. She looks pretty, in a blue dress that looks black in this light, little metallic threads picked through and glittering. It hugs the curves of her body in a way that Eddie feels obligated to notice, and so he does, and when he looks her in the eye again she's smiling wider, and that's pretty too and Eddie—

Eddie still feels like a fucking fraud.

"I got you a beer," Marisol says. She's got a glass of wine in her other hand. White wine, lipstick marks on the rim.

Eddie smiles back and takes the bottle she hands him. "Thanks."

"I wasn't sure what you'd want." She grins at him, flirty. "You'll have to tell me if I made a bad guess."

He sips the beer. It's a lager, hoppy and astringent in a way that leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He takes another drink and smiles around the grimace his mouth wants to make. "It's perfect. Thank you."

The pleased relief in her smile doesn't make the lie feel any better. He takes another sip and sets the bottle down, and Marisol settles her hip against his chair, close enough that he can feel the warmth of her body. Close enough that he could wrap an arm around her thighs and pull her into his lap, if he wanted to do that. He shifts forward instead, leaning his elbows against the table, and she lets out a quiet sound and sets her glass down to sit in the chair next to him. The music switches over from Christina Perri to what Eddie is pretty sure is Savage Garden, and on the dance floor Tommy says something that makes Buck laugh and pull him closer.

"They're cute together," Marisol observes. "Buck and, um… Tommy?"

Eddie's fingers twitch on his beer bottle. "Yeah."

"I didn't know that he was, you know…" she trails off. Eddie looks over at her, and she adds, "Not that there's anything wrong with it! I just, I thought he had a girlfriend."

"They broke up. He dates guys too," Eddie says, more emphatically than is really necessary. Like this is a truth that he's always known instead of something Buck told him two weeks ago in the loft, quiet and careful like he was afraid of how Eddie would react. Like he was afraid of Eddie.

It was a date, we were on a date.

So it's new for Buck, too. Not just him. But still.

It feels like something he should have known.

"Okay," Marisol says. The corners of her mouth tighten, and she takes a pointed sip of her wine. "I didn't know that, is all."

I didn't know either, Eddie imagines saying, but the words strangle themselves in his throat just the same as, Actually, I don't like lagers, and, I don't really want company tonight, did. He wonders how the hell Buck does it—just opens his mouth and lets the truth spill out. Eddie can only manage that when it's for other people. Never for himself.

"Sorry," he says out loud. "It's been… a day."

Marisol's face softens a little, and he feels like shit about that, too. It has been a day, is the thing. He woke up in a bathtub, more hungover than he's been in at least a decade, and after that was a wild goose-chase through the desert to retrieve Chim in time for the wedding, and all that is plenty of reason for him to be off his game now. It's just that somehow it also feels like a fucking lie.

On the dance floor, Buck has his cheek pressed to Tommy's. He says something, and Tommy's shoulders shake with laughter, and then they both turn, moving easily together into a kiss. It's quick and tender, and Eddie abruptly feels like the worst kind of voyeur for watching it happen. He turns his head away and finds Marisol looking at him.

The music changes again. TLC, he's pretty sure, because Chim is deep down a very basic Gen X music kind of guy. Or maybe it was Maddie's pick, who knows. Anyway. It's a little more upbeat, but still slow enough to dance to.

"You, uh." He clears his throat, and finds a smile that feels almost right. "Come on, you wanna dance before they close it all down? They're playing our song."

"This is our song?" Marisol asks, but she's laughing. "I don't even think I was born yet when it came out."

Eddie shrugs and holds out a hand. "It could be our song. Maybe for tonight it's just a good song to dance to."

That must have been the right thing to say. She smiles, sets her wine down, and slips her hand into his, letting him tug her to her feet. They wind their way through the chairs to the dance floor, and under the string lights she settles easily into his arms. 

I know you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all, rasps the singer in a sweetly smoky voice, as Eddie closes his eyes, and sways, and breathes, but I think you're moving too fast.

I think you're moving too fast.

He breathes in, and out, and opens his eyes. Marisol smiles up at him, and he smiles back, then cuts his eyes away. There are still a handful of people left on the dance floor with them: Athena and Bobby, swaying together like they're in their own little world, a couple of Buckley cousins with their dates. Buck and Tommy are gone, though, and Eddie almost cranes his head through the crowd to see where they got to before he catches himself.

"To tell you the truth," Marisol says. "I really don't think this is our song."

"Alright, well, we can find another one," Eddie says, and she laughs and sways into him, and he holds onto her, and when he closes his eyes, it's fine; it all feels fine.

[unrefinedmusings]

no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader headcanons

warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, nasty situations, age gaps, dirty talk, strip clubs, threesome, mentions of infidelity, sexually forward behavior?, not proofread very well

a/n: blaming this one on ovulation and listening to hot stuff by donna summer on repeat. only one of the scenarios is told in second perspective, but feel free to think of all of them as you.

currently obsessing over a joel miller slut era

the outbreak never happened and sarah is off at college. being a father has been his greatest joy. he would not trade a second of his time with sarah for a more rebellious youth. but when joel is almost 45 and living in an empty house, he gets lonely. and bored. that's when he starts to notice. the fleeting glances. the overt stares. he never realized how much attention he got. so he lets his dick do the thinking for a while. who could blame him? people were throwing themselves at his feet. who could blame them?

some standout moments:

while shopping for a birthday present for sarah, joel walks into a boutique at the mall. it's a small store and a slow day. the girl at the counter perks up at the sight of him. she's not subtle, nearly salivating when he walks over to ask for help. she touches him way more than what is appropriate while giving an opinion on earrings. all he does is lick his lips in her direction before she's locking the front door and turning the shop sign to closed. he drags her into a changing room despite her suggestion of the back office. joel doesn't mind the size of the stall when it means he can watch her face while he pounds her from behind. when he finishes, he kneels to make her finish one more time on his tongue. "make sure to watch yourself, honey. look so pretty when you cum."

joel miller is neither stupid nor cruel enough to get involved in someone else's marriage...but that doesn't mean he can't have some fun. since entering the business, he's found that every bored housewife loves to flirt with the contractor. now he just lets himself flirt back. watch their cheeks flush when he winks across the room. see them turn their weddings rings around, as if not seeing a diamond will make him forget their husbands hired him. it gives him an ego boost knowing they'll think of him in their marital beds that night.

hank, one of the younger guys on his crew, is engaged and invites joel to his bachelor party. tommy insists he go, at the least so as to not come off as an unfriendly boss. the strip club is loud, and his beer is overpriced and watered down. none of that matters when he sees the little devil come out on stage. she's wearing a lacy red corset that's pried open, letting her tits bounce free. he palms his cock under the table when she spreads her legs wide for the audience, and chuckles when her horns don't fall off even when she's upside down. joel had always been impressed by the fancy spins and twirls, but what he loved most was watching a woman make love to the pole. she's gyrating against it like a cat in heat, even turning around and letting the smooth metal slide between her asscheeks. she saunters over after her show, slides into his lap and offers him a dance in a private room. the horns fall off while she's bouncing on his cock, chasing her orgasm as his fingers work her clit.

the one he should probably feel the worst about it is the least his fault. those girls were so eager. they zeroed in on him before he realized. joel wanted to get a beer after work, the two seniors from Texas A&M wanted to sow their wild oats. joel knew they were a little too young for him, but they insisted since neither had been with an older man or had a threesome before. both girls sidled up on either side of him at the bar, each slipping a hand onto his thighs. he can't feel that bad when he remembers what having two pretty young things kissing on his cock was like. what it was like lying in his bed, one on his cock and one sitting on his face. hard to feel bad about that.

his favorite occasion is the night he meets you. it's late. he's had an awful day. two guys on his crew called in sick and he had no time to eat. he stops at an old school drive in for a couple burgers. in his side mirror he sees you, sees your uniform: cropped white tee, short black skirt, and, oh fuck him, rollerskates. your tits jiggle as you come to a stop by the driver's side window of his truck. you catch him staring. he can't muster the energy to be inconspicuous. joel's gaze lifts to meet yours and sees the flirtatious smile you've got on. leaning against the door, you ask to take his order. "I'll get two burgers, some fries, and two shakes if you've got time, sweetheart. Only one if you got somewhere else to be." You take your break in his back seat sipping on a vanilla shake with his head between your legs. After you cum, he lifts your shirt up and jacks off on your tits. He makes sure to grab the panties hooked on your skates and tuck them into his jeans. When you ask for them back, he spanks your ass. "I'm coming back for another pair. When's your next shift?"

💕💕💕💕💕

Thanks for reading!

[corrodedcoughin]

little story about little Eddie and his 2 new friends | word count approx 2.5k | general audience rating | steve and eddie are kids and Wayne is a pushover

Wayne sometimes thinks it was a mistake, not taking in the boy. God no, he would never think of Eddie as anything other than an important and intrinsic part of his life, couldn't be without him, wouldn't want to be. 

No, what Wayne worries about is how his readiness to help Eddie feel loved might contribute to the boy's difficulty in making friends.

It was an innocent enough request, Eddie asked for a pet as all young children do. He was so small and so wide eyed, just a scrap of an 8 year old with more feelings than he knew what to do with. Wayne knew he'd never hold up against any request Eddie made but he liked to pretend to himself that he could. And while technically he never pandered to the boy, yes Eddie usually got what he wanted but in a way that suited their means. Or so Wayne tells himself. 

8 year old Eddie asked for a pet and a pet is what he got.

-

Eddie barrelled into the trailer door, backpack swinging off his arm and ready to be thrown into the corner. Planning to shoot off back out the door to do his usual; lift up rocks and inspect whatever bugs he could find, to grab sticks and imagine them as wizard staffs, to let his imagination finally run wild after hours of sitting still at a desk under too bright lights and too busy class rooms. In truth he wasn't really paying attention to the insides of the trailer, expecting it to be the same as always. It took a very pointed cough for Eddie to register that Wayne was unusually home from work, far earlier than normal, and a further loud clearing of the throat for Eddie to pay attention to what Wayne had placed on the kitchen table. 

Right in the middle of the table, sitting in a beam of sunlight, was a cage and in that cage was what would soon become, Eddie's very reason for being. He crept up close, almost as if scared that any sudden movements would prove the whole thing to be a cruel illusion. He was brought out of his reverie by a pink nose wiggling at the bars, whiskers attached and twitching as the rest of the rat appeared.

'is he-? is he for real?' Eddie said with a gasp, hands inching towards the door of the cage. 

Wayne had to suppress a laugh, trust this boy to be bowled over in wonder at a rat as if it were a puppy. He opened the contraption of the enclosure door and dipped his hand inside, allowing the rat to climb onto his palm. The guy from work assured him that this one was the most tame he had, inquisitive to a fault and oddly enough, desperate to be handled. Quite honestly, the perfect match for his well meaning but excitable nephew-near-enough-son. 

'Yeah, yeah kid it's for real. And he's a she.' Wayne lets the rat sniff at Eddie's hands, little pink hands finding a platform on Eddie's palms, clearly holding himself a still as possible but if Wayne knew this boy, and he did, he knows that Eddie is so close to vibrating out of his skin, that containing that much excitement must be killing him. 

'I don't care. Wayne, I don't! Can she sleep in my room? Does she know tricks? Can I teach her? What does she like? Can I take her to school? Please! Wayne!' He's started now, words pouring out of his mouth, tripping over himself to try and release every thought entering his brain at lightning speed.

'Woah, there' Wayne says pulling the rat up, cradling it in two hands, 'We got to be kind to her alright? She's only small. Doesn't know what loud noises are good and which are bad, okay?' He watches as Eddie nods vigorously, eyes never leaving the creature. 'Now you promised me you'd look after a pet so that's what's going to happen. She is your responsibility. That means cleaning, feeding and loving, got it?' Eddie nods again, tentatively reaching his hands up, the image of Oliver Twist springs to Wayne's mind. 

Wayne comes around the kitchen table, crouches down to Eddie on creaky knees and hands the rat over, filling Eddie's small hands with a heartbeat and fur. Eddie giggles, watching as the rat surveils the new patch of skin its found itself on. 

'Tickles, Wayne' and its said with such love and devotion Wayne almost feels his heart break 

'Yeah son. She does, doesn't she?' 

-

 Of course it takes less than a week and Eddie and Sam are inseparable. As soon as Eddie gets home he's itching for his furry friend, delighting in the way she scampers around the room, over his arms and anywhere she can get. No matter what though, she always comes back to him. She can be digging in to a particularly interesting crevice behind the couch but she'll always come running back when she hears Eddie make a noise.  

The thing is, Eddie is a pretty lonely kid. Not for lack of trying, don't get it wrong. Eddie tries to socialise he tries to talk to the other kids in his class, get them involved in his imaginary games and play pretend but being the new kid doesn't really do him any favours. Being the new kid that lives in the trailer park and a penchant for biting to show affection does him even less. 

To Eddie, its him and Sam against the world. He can come home and know that his best friend will listen to all his problems, will stay close and won't run away even when he's extra loud or being 'a lot' as his teacher like to tell him. He's so tired of being told to use his 'quiet hands', his 'inside voice' and every other subdued phrase they try to press on him. 

This particular day was a hard one, Sally Winters had said that Eddie was 'bad luck' and the word quickly spread around by recess. Eddie had thought he was making some progress with a couple of kids from the class, was thinking today might be the day that he finally got asked to play but that hope quickly got squashed. He had hopped up to the potential friends with a stick in his hand and a notion of being a pirate when they both looked at him like he was a monster, they couldn't get away fast enough. And Eddie couldn't find a place to hide quick enough before the fat and heavy tears fell from his eyes. 

It was a long day and home time was his only saving grace. 

Wayne knows somethings up, can tell in the way that Eddie isn't even really talking to Sam, hardly looking at the Tv despite the fact that Wayne very purposefully had put the cartoon Lord of the Rings movie on. The sure fire fall back he liked to keep in his back pocket. The trump card to get his kid happy. This time though? No luck. Looking at the kid makes a chasm open up in his gut, deep and full of overwhelming sadness that he just wants to stop, wants to find the solution to make this boy smile like the sun again. They don't talk much for the rest of the night but Wayne makes sure to stay close, stay awake in case he's needed. Eddie spends the time between dinner and bed sitting on the floor, side pressed up against Wayne's leg and playing fetch with bits of Wayne's whittling with Sam, not a word said. 

-

Eddie wakes up the next morning with a plan and a devil may care attitude. Oh so carefully he maintains his usual routine; says good morning to Sam, carts her around the trailer as he washes his face and wanders into the kitchen, placing her in her secondary cage so she can eat breakfast with Eddie and Wayne - Eddie was adamant that they couldn't have meals without her, 'she's part of the family!' and soft hearted fool Wayne Munson agreed and an additional cage was sourced. 

When breakfast is finished Eddie begins his usual rigmarole of dragging his feet to get out of his pjs and into his clothes, reluctant to grab his bag and go out the door. Same old protests as Wayne watches him walk out towards the school bus. 

What is a new addition to the routine though, is Sam Munson hiding up the sleeve of a school boy and about to go on a secret and very dangerous mission. A mission to survive the school day. 

Surprisingly, Eddie manages to keep Sam secret, keep her safe, the whole morning. He came prepared with snacks to make sure she was entertained and happy, he couldn't stand the thought of her being sad, her eyes get so big and her tail droops as well as her ears, it makes the whole of Eddie ache. But no, she's happy, or happy enough at least. 

So the morning goes without a hitch, Eddie making noises to cover up any squeaks and keeping a hand in his pocket to reassure Sam, stowed in the pocket of his hoodie. He knows he's seen as 'weird' so what's a few extra noises? They are let out for recess and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief, thinking this is his time to let Sam out, knowing she's desperate for some fresh air. Sure, she's peed in his hoodie pocket, but he can't really tell with it's dark colour and the layer of t-shirt between the wet material and his tummy. 

He runs off to his usual corner, stuck between a bush and a tree and gently tips Sam out of his pocket, she scampers around his feet and gratefully accepts a broken off bit of cracker between her hands.

'Thanks for coming with me Sam. Everyone is so mean, its so stupid. I don't care. You are a better friend than any of those losers' He crouches down, hoping to find a twig to play fetch with. A game that he delights in, is immeasurably proud of her for learning it so quickly. 'Gonna find you the best stick Sam. Promise. Best stick for the best friend' 

He continues muttering to himself and doesn't notice that he's getting progressively louder after finding a twig and beginning the game. Doesn't register that he's drawn unwanted attention with his happy shouts and encouragement until a body is crashing through the shrub he's hidden himself behind. 

Sam doesn't notice either until the unexpected form is right in front of her and she bolts, running as fast as her legs will carry her and Eddie is right behind her, muttering under his breath as he trips over his own feet in an attempt to catch her 'oh shit oh no oh no oh no' He's pushing himself as hard as he can but it doesn't count for much, he never was the fastest. He keeps trying though but then a faster body is accelrating past him, in a evident bee line for Sam. 

Without thinking, Eddie lets out a painful 'NO!' terrified of what might happen.

He knows people think rats are dirty, thinks they don't deserve love and don't deserve life. He doesn't want to imagine what this person's intent might be. Sam reaches a dead end up against the wall of the school and the body, the boy, stops infront of her. Scoops her up? Cradles her into his chest? Eddie...Eddie doesn't know what to think, he's prepared to fight this kid but then the boy is looking up at him with curious hazel eyes. Stroking Sam's head gently and with intent.

He holds Sam out, careful with his motions, trying to blow his brown floppy hair out of his face without disturbing the animal in his hands 'is she okay? is she yours? did I hurt her? she looks okay, is she?' Eddie gingerly steps forward and plucks Sam out of the boys hands, gives hera thorough inspection as the other boy continues 

'I didn't mean to scare her I swear! I didn't even know you had her! I won't tell, I swear I wont! You know...you shouldn't really have a rat in school. If I promise not to tell can I play with you? I'm Steve' 

Holding her close, Eddie squints at the boy, at Steve, and thinks. Thinks about how he looks nice, about how soft his hair looks and how he asked Eddie, Eddie!, to play, that he didn't give him a wide bearth and that he held Sam with such care. It isn't even a hard decision.

They spend the rest of recess together. Eddie shows Steve just how smart Sam. That she can play fetch, that she can run across one arm to the next, over your shoulders without losing balance. That she can twitch her whiskers and it seems like she's laughing at the joke Eddie tells her. That she laughs at the joke Steve tells her! Steve learns that she's named after somebody called Samwise and it doesn't matter that he's a boy because Sam is brave just like Samwise and smart and cares just as much. That Sam is Sam and Eddie is Frodo and together they can take on the world. 

Steve asks if he can have a name too and Eddie calls him Legolas, doesn't tell him why. Doesn't say that Steve reminds him of the pretty elves described in the books Wayne reads out loud to Eddie. It doesn't matter, not really. 

Recess ends and they shuffle back to the school doors, both of them lagging behind the others.

Eddie steels himself, knows he has to bring his misfortune up so that he can own in, so that his new friend doesn't find out from someone else. 'I'm bad luck you know. Sally...she said it. now everyone wont talk to me. I wont be mad if you don't either. I've got Sam. We'll be oaky! So you can just go, I don't care!' He knows he's getting wound up, he can't stop himself. He just wants the bandaid ripped off so he can start feeling sad quicker, get it over with sooner.

Before he can register is, Steve is wrapped around Eddie in a flash of a hug, careful to keep his tummy away from squashing Sam. 

'Not bad luck to me. See you tomorrow Frodo' Steve whispers next to Eddie's ear and shuffles through the school door. 

Eddie is in a daze of joy and happiness, thoughts rumbling through his head but none of them sticking as he journey back into his class room. Pure happiness radiating out of his body, he takes Sam out of his pocket and holds her up to his face 'Sam you made my bad luck go away!' kissing her on the forehead as he hears his teacher scream 

'EDWARD MUNSON IS THAT A RAT?!'

-

So Wayne thought the already unpopular kid having a rat would make things worse. Turns out, he was wrong. Very, very wrong. He might have to start pocket inspections before school though.

--------------------------------------

also on ao3 if that's the preferred reading format for you

[zablife]

This is not really a request, but more of an idea that I just had, so please feel free to ignore this and don’t feel pressured to respond or write anything!! :)

I loved the ‘Johnny defending you’ fic so much!! This is based off how the fic mentioned that they recognized the reader from the bar a couple months ago! I was thinking that maybe the first time she went to the bar, Johnny saw her and pretty much almost fell in love with her at first sight but he thought she was too young for a guy like him :( and she was also hanging off the arm of the rowdy ‘kid’, so he didn’t talk to her or anything (maybe he also thought she seemed too sweet and out of place hanging out with the group of rowdy asses, let alone dating one). After he kicked out the rowdy group, he assumed he would never see her again so he tried to think nothing of it (but then he does!!)

Idk if this makes sense at all! Again, feel free to ignore this :)))

Hi lovely, I'm so glad you enjoyed Imagine Johnny Defending You. Tysm for this incredible bonus thought which has me feeling so soft as I envision protective Johnny wanting nothing more than to make you his so he can love and care for you properly 😍

Now I can't stop picturing the way Johnny's eyes dart toward you the moment you walk into the bar, unconsciously memorizing every detail about you. He immediately reasons you’re much too young for him, wide eyes and fidgeting hands making you appear like a lost child rather than a woman. But there’s a quiet sweetness to you as well that can’t be denied and he’s powerless against your charm.

It isn't something you're aware of at first, stumbling at the threshold as you clutch your boyfriend's arm to keep from falling. He never breaks stride to check on you, dragging you along with a warning to hurry up and insisting he'd rather leave you outside when he meets the leader of the Vandals, if only he could trust you not to act like a whore.

It makes Johnny seethe with anger to hear the way he talks to you, not to mention his overall lack of care for you. He quickly notices that you're shivering beside the young biker, leaning into his arm for a hint of warmth which he never seems to return.

As the punk makes his demands of Johnny, the older man can't help but think of all the things he'd rather do for you instead. If it was up to him, he'd throw these assholes out, make you sit down and eat a good meal bc it doesn't look like you've had one in weeks. Then he'd lead you to the back room to sleep off whatever drugs you're on bc that glassy stare is beginning to worry him. And even tho you glare back at him when he finally catches your eye, he manages a small smile. He knows you’ve been in survival mode too long to recognize genuine concern, but he wants so badly to show you what real love feels like.

As Brucie jabs him in the ribs for his final answer, Johnny rejoins the conversation. “Nah, we don’t take kids.”

As the kid begins to protest, Johnny ventures one more glance at you with a dull ache growing in his chest. Suddenly he realizes he can’t change any of this sickening reality and the thought fuels a new wave of rage.

“I said you ain’t fucking welcome here!” he shouts, slamming his fist on the table.

The pool game in the corner halts as a few beer bottles crash onto the floor, shattering at your feet. Johnny has to look away as you flinch in response, suddenly ashamed of himself. He watches crestfallen as the Renegades stomp from the bar, taking you with them and out of his life forever.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hi lovely how are you? Could you do a ”someone is trying to steal morpheus girl”? 🥹

A/N: Hey!! I'm doing fine, thank you! Exam season is right around the corner, so I'm living and breathing diagnostic tests, methodological models and theories of emotions.🌺

[MASTERLIST] || [Sandman-inspired playlist]

You know what the problem with Mona Lisa is? Everyone flocks like a mindless herd just to look at it as if there was nothing else at Luvr. Alright, it's the painting but it's not like there aren't any other paintings around the globe, right? And you know what that guy's problem is? He really thinks he's doing something with that sleazy smirk he-

"Are you doing alright?" Hob asked Morpheus. "You seem angry." It was a nice euphemism, a true monument of Hob's diplomacy.

Morpheus looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not angry," he stated in an ever-so-stern voice as if his act could actually fool anyone. After his very believable statement, his gaze returned to you, who was sitting sideways to the bar counter, sipping on an affogato. It was your own decision to leave them alone while they were catching up - it was their get-together and if it wasn't for Morpheus's desire to have you by his side wherever he went, you wouldn't be at the inn at all. Over your shoulder, Morpheus could see the face of the man who made him abandon his little chat with Hob - glistening eyes and a warm half-smile that made Morpheus terribly aware of his own tendency to be rather expressionless.

"Right, obviously," Hob answered with a wide grin on his face. There was something absolutely hilarious in watching the literal King of Dreams and Nightmares silently burn a hole in the face of some random mortal with his intense gaze. The atmosphere was only growing more tense, even if you and the charming strangers weren't aware of it. Tempted to push the swaying domino, Hob leaned towards Morpheus and added something quietly: "You know, you can admit it bothers you that someone is hitting on the girl you like. She is very beautiful, it was to be expected."

Like - what a useless word! Liking is for ice cream flavours or music bands. Morpheus was far beyond liking you. In some oddly possessive and quite pathetic way, he considered you to be part of him. People don't just like their own arms, do they? Instead, they find it hard, nearly impossible, to imagine existing without those very fingers, hips or knees; it seems strange to live in a body different from the one you have. Equally, how bizarre everything would be if he did not have you by his side! Like a parallel world where people have two left feet.

"It does not bother me," he answered in a husky voice before frantically getting up from the table. Hob continued snickering to himself in an infantile expectation of the uproar looming over the inn's patrons. But it wasn't only the human passion for action that spoke through him: in some way, Hob hoped that this fairly meaningless frustration will teach Morpheus something about himself and you - that if he doesn't cherish you, someone else gladly will.

With a characteristic stiffness in his step, Morpheus reached you and the stranger. His hand firmly grabbed your shoulder, making you think that something serious was going on and he was needed elsewhere immediately. You looked up at him but he did not spare you even a glance - his stern gaze was stuck to the brunet sitting across from you, whose once charming expression fell into something much more awkward. Clearly, Morpheus's appearance surprised him.

"We must leave," Dream spoke in a strict tone.

"Are you okay, love?" you asked him as you stood up from the stool and gathered your belongings. Hearing the affectionate title, the stranger whom you had been talking to unconsciously raised his cheeks and furrowed his eyebrows - disgust. Perhaps he considered Morpheus a little too, for a lack of better expression, bland appearance-wise to think about him as in any way equal to you. What a strange thought it truly was: that you, a mundane human, were settling for Dream of the Endless.

Feeling desperation crawling up his spine, the brown-haired man took the last chance he had: "Will I see you around?"

You gave him a polite smile while meaningfully shaking your head. "I can't imagine you will, no. Have a good day."

Following Morpheus's rushed footsteps towards the entrance door, you glanced over your shoulder towards the corner where he had been sitting, only to see Hob snickering as he watched the two of you leave the inn.

After a few minutes of walking, he stopped his march so suddenly, you bumped into his back. Morpheus turned around immediately but because of the lack of distance between you, he was towering over you. Having him look down on you with that unguessed, stern gaze was strangely both alluring and intimidating. There was a creeping thought in the back of your head that you had been oblivious to some scheme that definitely had something to do with you.

"Tell me," he began with a slight waver in his voice, "would a human make you happier?" Morpheus spoke quietly as though he didn't want anyone else to become privy to his own fears. There were many who would wreak unimaginable havoc once they got such information into their terrible claws.

"I don't understand what you're trying to say," you answered. Feeling flustering at how close you two were, considering it was a public space, your voice grew quieter with each word. No matter how well you've grown to know Morpheus, there was still some subliminal menace haunting the thoughts of anyone in his vicinity.

His ragged breath brushed against your face. Looking up into his clouded, dark eyes, you felt yourself growing smaller. At that moment he could ask you for anything and you wouldn't dare to decline. "I can give you everything you might wish for," he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, "but I can not join you in the life you are used to."

Suddenly, the strange events of the past fifteen minutes became painfully obvious and you found it funny that you had been oblivious to this web of anxieties until now. "If I wanted to have a typical 9-5 with a picket fence, do you think I'd still be here?" you asked him. Morpheus slightly turned his head to the side. It was hard to say whether he was pondering your words or felt shame at ever accusing you of anything short of honesty. Whatever it was, you brought your hands up to his face and gently forced him to look back at you. "I'm not hanging around because I'm afraid to be lonely or something like that. I've made my choice, Morpheus. And that choice is life with you, whatever it may bring."

There was a certain sense of disbelief in his glistening eyes - it wasn't that he doubted your honesty, he truly did believe that you believed it, but a subconscious part of him, the festering wounds of all the infatuations he couldn't love as long as he wished, rendered him unable to take your statement without a grain of doubt. In other words, you were a person of integrity but he wasn't a man of faith. Not yet, perhaps.

You craned your neck to place a chaste peck on his cheek. Without thinking about it, Morpheus tilted his head towards you. His eyes fluttered shut but only for a split second as he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"You don't have to believe me," you began unsure of whether it was a good idea to address the fairly obvious shadow of fear that loomed over him. "But if you can, just trust me that I don't want anyone else."

"I trust you with all that I am."

"Good." You gave him a wide smile. Not expecting such a sudden change in your demeanour, Morpheus furrowed his thick eyebrows. "Because I'm taking you on a small adventure."

Before he could ask you anything, you grabbed his elbow and began walking somewhere. He let you pull him in whatever direction you wanted - he always did. Perhaps he wasn't quite aware of it yet but he never suspected you of ill will. When it came to you, he was surprisingly naive.

"Where are you leading me?" he questioned you but never forced you to stop. In a very ignoble way, Morpheus was devoted to following some human's whim.

You shrugged before answering in a humorously questioning manner: "Straight ahead? Just following my gut."

Morpheus surprised himself with his own contentment - getting lost in the Waking World was okay as long as it was him and you.

[letmesleep8]

even if I die screaming // elliexreader

CHAPTER 3: Cassiopeia

AO3 | chapter 2 | chapter 4

content warnings/tags: cheating (not on/by ellie); mentions and use of drugs; subtle homophobia; slight discomfort.

notes: hello loves! i'm back with chapter three and it's a bit longer than usual, hope you like it. also, there is a minor OC mention in this one. nothing too much, it's actually such a quick role that i didn't want to waste a character in it, not going to happen often.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"With my back to the shoreline, I dreamt that he drowned"

 — Georgia, Phoebe Bridgers

January 22, 2039 Winter

Dear diary, 

I've been avoiding Ellie for the last couple weeks since Christmas. The last time I saw her was during New Year's Eve, tried to come talk to me but my mom was there and she had had a couple drinks. I realized it was better for me to not cause any type of scene.

After what she saw on Christmas mama said it'd be better for me if I got closer to Dina since we "have much more in common", of course what she really means is that I should not go anywhere near Ellie. She's also been really trying to set me up with one of Seth's boys, Mike. The older one, I think he's like 18 or 19. I really don't give a shit, I've only been seeing him so she would stop coming to my door late at night to pray for me while I'm asleep. 

Tonight there's gonna be a community get-together at Tipsy and I know for a fact Ellie is gonna be there. And so will Mike, I guess. God, he's so fucking annoying. I mean, he doesn't actually do anything bad, he's just boring and... shallow.

Anyways, I'm going right now 'cause Cat promised to give me bangs. I bet it's going to look awful and mama's gonna kill me. If it does happen I'll make sure Dina burns this journal. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The sun had just set, the sky was not too dark. I grabbed the cake I baked for the community party and filled up Stevie's water bowl before leaving out of the door. As I turned to lock the door behind me, I got scared by a voice.

"What are you doing? Were you leaving?" Mike said, making me jump and almost drop the cake. "I said I was going to pick you up, why were you going by yourself?" He smirked, realizing I got spooked. 

"I completely forgot, I'm so sorry", I smiled while trying to hide the fact that I wanted to throw the vanilla cake into his face, I absolutely hate getting spooked.  I could see his smirk getting wider, he probably realized how distressed I was. And I think he liked it.

"Where 'ma hug at?", Mike tilted his head. I could feel my face twitch as I walked down the steps to my front porch. I looked up and put one arm on his shoulder, hugging him. He was quick to put both his arms around my waist, making me furrow my brows. I'm usually really not a fan of physical touch and Mike was always really touchy. After about two  seconds, I pulled away and started walking. 

The walk to the bar was quick and sorta quiet. He asked to hold hands, saying my hands must feel cold. I said I'm fine and stuffed them in my pocket. The lights on the street were beautiful, taking away my attention from him completely. We then got to my mom, sitting beside Seth. He got up, with a smile. 

I smiled back, wide and polite, as always. "I baked a vanilla cake, I hope people like it", I uncovered the cake and handed it to Seth, who seemed impressed. "Well, at least I know ma' boy won't be starving anytime in the future", he said with a grin. I could feel my smile getting smaller by the minute. The boy laughed with his dad.

On the other side of the room I could see my friends, all sitting together on the same table. Ellie included. I think Jesse saw me staring because he waved at us, calling us over. I thought if I should wave back but before I could even come to a decision Mike was headed towards them, dragging me along. 

"Look who's here! I thought you got kidnapped by Santa or something." Dina laughed, elbowing me. 

"Nah, was just doing an internship as a reindeer, but I'm back in town", I scoffed. Ellie was quiet, sitting on the corner chair. "Hi", I waved to her, reluctant. 

"Hey", she replied, her voice low. With the slightest of smiles, she points at my fresh bangs and says: "I like the new cut, suits ya' good." 

I smile and I can see her cheeks get fairly flushed. I open my mouth to respond to the compliment, but get rudely interrupted by Mike: "no shit, you cut your hair?", he's surprised. 

"You didn't notice the whole walk here?" I knew Mike wasn't exactly the brightest but I never took him for being blind too. He shrugs his shoulders and opens his mouth, trying to find an excuse for his lack of attention. Luckily, Seth calls him over to the kitchen for help, sparring us both with this useless talk. "I'll see ya' ", he says as he walks to his dad. I sat with my friends.

"Not noticing a haircut is a man's worst flaw", Jesse jokes. I roll my eyes and reply: "I really don't give a fuck. Anyone got a beer? Any alcohol? Anything?"

Dina whistles and laughs. "For you?! I'm impressed, look who decided she likes beer now!" Dina always liked to mess with me, especially about the fact that I don't usually drink with them. 

"Well, I can't always babysit you all", I mock Dina. "Time to return the favor." Dina lifts her hands in the air, so does Jesse. I turn to look at Ellie.

The auburn haired girl sighed and got closer, whispering: "s'okay, I do have something on me but y'all can't tell anyone otherwise we'll all be in trouble!" She gets up and all three of us follow after her. 

We sneaked out to go Ellie's house, she unlocked her door. "It's a mess, I wasn't expecting to have guests. You wait outside." I leaned against the front door, Dina leaned against Jesse, whispering something in his ear that made him chuckle. Soon after, there she was with a 6 pack of beer. We all walked together, deciding to stop by a creek, as usual. 

Ellie sat on a rock and I sat by her side, she handed me a beer. Jesse and Dina got a beer each and went to sit further, guess they needed some privacy. I took a sip, trying my best not to make a face. I'm really not used to alcohol. I try to break the cold silence. 

"So..." I looked up to the sky. "Do you really just keep a 6 pack hidden in your room?"

She chuckled, not saying anything else. Maybe she is mad at me. I would be. But her being mad would mean that it actually meant something, I don't think it did for her. Did it? Do I? Do I mean something for Ellie? Well, maybe now she sees me as a heartless bitch. I take another sip of the beer, thinking about how Ellie completely despises me. 

"Are you sure you wanna drink it? I know you hate beer." I looked to the side to see Ellie looking at me, smiling sweetly. "I could give ya' something else, if you want, of course." She laughs. 

"What? Oh, sure" I try to brush it off, as she reaches for something inside her jacket. I watch as she takes a joint and a lighter off her pocket and try to play it cool, even though I've never smoked a cigarette before. She lights it up, gives it a puff and passes it to me. I try to mimic her and end up coughing really hard while she laughs at me. 

"You've never smoked weed?", she laughs. "I've never smoked anything!", I reply, still coughing like an old man. "Aw shit, if I knew I wouldn't have done this, you should have told me!". She took it off my hand and smoked it again. 

Ellie blows out the smoke into the sky as I recover. "I can help you if you want", she says with a smirk. I raise an eyebrow, pretending to be innocent. I think I know what she's gonna do, I've seen guys do it in movies. I nod my head yes, "go ahead".

She puts the cigarette between her lips and takes another drag, but holds the smoke this time. She gently cups my face with her hand and slowly gets closer, I open my lips, not sure if I'm just going on with the bit or actually trying to say something. Lightly brushing her lips against mine, she blows out the smoke in my mouth. I closed my eyes and took it, breathing it in, and for a moment I could feel her smile against my lips. She backs away. I can see her rosy cheeks, they match the state of her eyes. She takes another drag to herself, looking the other way. As she turns around I can see the freckles on the back of her shoulder. I look to the sky and back to her, until she notices.

"All good?" Ellie smiles, looking a bit embarrassed. I shake my head.

"Toss your hair to the side", I say. She does so without asking a single question. "Now turn back around."

I take my index finger to meet her back, making her skin shiver. Move it to one side then another, tracing patterns, connecting dots. Constellations. 

"Cassiopeia." I moved my finger again. "Big Dipper." I moved it once more. "Cepheus". I whispered under my breath, by her neck.

Ellie chuckled. "Are you tracing stars on my back?" She got the weed back to her lips, dragging on it once more. Afterwards, Ellie looked into my eyes, close to her neck. She got close and brushed her freckled nose against mine, shamelessly touching lips and blew out the smoke into my mouth again. Our gazes intertwined and our faces closer than ever when I heard Dina approaching. We both backed away.

"Sorry for bothering you two. Mike's looking for ya'." Dina grinned, shaking her head and walking away. I quickly got up, adjusted my hair and walked away too, without looking back.

[heedmywarnings]

The Fraud and The Boy

--

"I used to be somewhat of a human myself too, yknow." The fraud said, its hair covered its face -- if it still had one.

"You still look human... but, what happened to you?" The boy, 'he' asked as he clutched rusted bars of the doorless cell that separates the two children.

In response, The fraud merely chuckled. A gurgle of blood and saliva. "I still look human?" It whispered, "Many devils looks like humans." Every time it spoke, it hurts.

"But... you're not a devil." His frown deepened, this was not a suitable topic for children. "I am, that's why I'm like this." The fraud responded.

"Will I... end up like you, too?" The boy meekly asked, he suddenly grew weak at the imagination of ending up like the fraud.

"Not if you run fast enough."

--

Enough with the unknown names.

Present.

Venti wandered through the streets of Mondstadt, he wanted to find a different place to put his performance. He'd taken a tip from a self-proclaimed bard named Helen, "When you're high up, everyone can hear your voice!" She said.

Venti figured that the highest place would be the Barbato- his statue, but he already goes there a bazillion times! He was at a lost.

Oh whatever, he'll still end up in the same place again, and again, and again.

Climbing the familiar stone steps upwards, he began to hear voices, not so friendly voices. Voices laced with venom.

"Hey, a friend of mine from Inazuma said that nation is on a wide search looking for an Impostor."

What?

"Impostor? Like, our Overseer's Impostor? Another one, seriously? That has to be some sort of a joke."

Just a joke.

"No no, its true! There have been eye witnesses."

They shouldn't have eyes.

Venti stopped listening.

He ran down, he would have tripped if not for the wind catching him.

No, don't.. not again. Wasn't one time enough for them!? Then again, there was always just One Last Time, isn't there? What do they want? What do they gain from this?

But there was never a 'Last.' Because Once Was Never Enough for them.

Is Beelzebul too... close-minded about the whole situation? Or is she just ignoring it, just like her sister when it first happened?

Venti didn't want to be Barbatos anymore. Once was enough, he doesn't want to announce the execution of the innocent, nor does he want to witness it.

--

"This is the second day you've called for me, have you missed me that much?" Kaeya teased, as he took a seat across the table.

"Yes and no." Diluc responded as he took a sip of grape juice, "Oh, a direct answer. How rare." Kaeya laid back.

"Anyways, my intelligence caught wind of something. Another impostor." Diluc cut to the chase catching Kaeya off-guard.

"No one can be a real fake, Diluc." Kaeya said as he twirled stray locks of his blue hair. "What do you mean by that?" His brother asked, the grape juice being cold and forgotten amidst the conversation.

"What I mean is, history repeats itself."

Past.

[willowser]

bodyguard au + bathtime fic for kiri ?

oooooh, this is fun !!! i'm thinking of like, some situation in which you are the child of someone who is big and wealthy, maybe owns a few different multi-million dollar corporations and perhaps doesn't do it all legally 👀

kirishima has always been in the service of protecting your father !! you know him because he is a forever shadow in your home, quiet and large, peeking out windows and making sure doors are locked. he only speaks if you speak to him first, but his answers are always cut short when your father is around.

— so on a night when he has to go out of town, you're a little delighted to see kirishima sitting at the kitchen table when you get home from work.

"hi," he tells you, rising to stand leagues above you. his face is sweet, despite his wide stature. shy. "your dad asked me to stay with you until he comes back, i hope you don't mind."

oh, you don't mind at all.

it's probably really fun !!! and you make the two of you dinner and he relaxes a bit after eating, even takes off the dark jacket he's always in. his forehead shines a little, like he's sweaty, and he hikes the sleeves of his white button-up to his elbows underneath the fluorescence.

he's still is a bit hard to talk to, but he listens as you prattle on about your day, scooting around the kitchen as you clean up. he offers to finish for you, but you shoo at him to sit back down and after a little bit of insistence from you, he finally agrees to have a beer. or two.

that loosens him up enough that the conversation flows a bit easier; you learn his first name, and his cheeks go red when you repeat it with a grin. he tells you a little about his mom, that he's an only child, that he never went to college: very basic stuff that paints a vague picture of him.

you know your father does some shady things, deals with shady people. why else would he need a giant for a bodyguard, that could probably snap a man's neck without even trying ?? kirishima tells you little things, but he doesn't go too deep. doesn't reveal what twists and turns he made in his past to put him here.

eventually you leave to get ready for bed, and the soft look on his face ALMOST has you sitting down for more with him. he shifts his eyes to the table, then, like he knows he's been caught staring too long and you wonder — when the last time was that he did anything for himself ?? not for your father, or even for you, but. for eijirou.

regardless, you slip on up the stairs and take your time making a nice bubble bath, putting on some light music. there's a bar on the second floor and you steal a bottle of wine from it and two glasses before nestling in the warm water, spreading your legs out to test how much room you have in the gigantic tub.

and then you call for him. a little more urgently that necessary, but it brings him to you quicker, suddenly appearing in the open doorway of your bathroom with wide eyes, flushing down his neck when he sees you.

you lean against the edge of the tub, smiling as you prop your chin in your hand. "i was wondering if you could help me wash my back."

the question seems to buffer in his mind for a long time before he's finally blinking, adam's apple bobbing. and then he's bringing the bathroom door behind him as he begins to unbutton his shirt.

✨️ trope game ! ✨️

[luveline]

I saw this one post where this girl was showing a pack of pastries that her boyfriend got her - but he ripped off the label w/ the calories bc he knew she struggled w/ eating - I just think that’s really sweet and maybe you could write this with Remus or James??

If not that’s totally okay!! Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

remus bf forever love u cw mentioned struggles with eating / disordered eating behaviours ♡ fem!reader

The best part of any day is when Remus comes to see you. Usually to stay the night, sometimes quickly before a shift. Remus always makes time for you no matter what's happening, and he loves to bring you treats.

It doesn't matter how big or small, he always has something. At the start, this had usually been simple things. A bar of chocolate or a cold can of your favourite drink. Anything. Sometimes flowers, one time a flower he'd picked on the way.

It's been a while since Remus brought you something edible. It's been a bad struggle lately, but as you're getting better and food is getting easier to eat, he's slowly eased back in. He's supportive, and patient, and he doesn't push you but he also won't let you hurt yourself quietly.

You open your door and Remus smiles so wide it looks like it hurts, taking the one step into your door and cupping your face in a warm, big hand.

"Dove," he says, oddly soft, "look at you. You look really good today."

It's a funny sort of compliment. You know what he means when he says it. You want to give him the good news he's expecting. You can't, though. You haven't managed to eat much today already and any healthy glow you hold is from a good day yesterday.

He sees your wince and rubs your cheek with his thumb reassuringly. "Pretty girl," he praises.

You hug him right there on the stoop and bend under his weight. The plastic bag in his hand crinkles as he brings it up to the small of your back, whatever it is that's inside bumping into your thighs.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

You pull away. "I'm good," you say, sort of meaning it.

Remus' first triumph is dinner. He sits you down at the table and works around your kitchen with ease. You try not to look at anything he's doing while he does it, figuring any knowledge of the ingredients inside will cause more harm than good. You listen to oil sizzling in a pan and grimace.

"How are you, baby?" you ask him, fingers inching toward the plastic bag he'd brought with him.

"Fucking tired." A pepper grinder clicks. "Happy to he home with you."

You look up to trace the shapes of his light brown hair. "Me too."

"Do you want to eat by yourself or with me?" he asks, pouring half the content of the frying pan onto a plate. He adds some bread. You can see from here that he hasn't buttered it.

"With you, please."

You make sure there's ample room for the two plates on the table and Remus sets them down. He makes you a small glass of water and a bigger one for himself. You love how he insists on sitting next to you rather than across, and it makes it easier to manage.

"What's in the bag?" you ask, stalling, cringing as the smell of food hits you. There's an instant nausea that arises with the knowledge that you don't have to eat it, but you should, and you're going to.

Remus' turn to cringe. "For you, dove. Forgive me, I didn't realise that you- that today was a hard day."

You raise your eyebrows and part the bag open slowly, unsurprised when you find some bits and bobs outlining a paper bag of pastries from the bakery counter in the supermarket.

Weirdly, they look easier to manage than the plate of food in front of you. You can't tell whether you're still stalling or if you actually want to know, but you pick up the bag of pastries and your eyes search for the calorie information on impulse, only to find it missing.

Torn off.

Remus is watching you carefully when you turn to him.

You can guess what's on your plate just by looking at it, but the calories inside ready baked things like this are unpredictable. The information being missing before would've put you off completely no matter Remus' intentions. You'd always assume they were a hugely ridiculous amount so you didn't go over.

"Sorry," he says, resting his hand tentatively over your thigh.

He's so pretty, inside and out.

"Do you want half with me?" you ask. You don't sound very convincing, your throat dry as cotton.

"Now?"

"Hm." You open the bag and pull out a flaky pastry. Your boyfriend, your lovely, sweet, over-attentive boyfriend, you want to eat something for him. Because it was a gift, and because he cares enough to rip off the calories.

He squeezes your thigh with a soft pressure. You know it's his way of saying, Only if you can.

You split the pastry in half and you and Remus eat it right there in front of your cooling dinner.

He kisses you as soon as your done. You both have sticky lips.

"Alright?" he asks after he's pulled away, hand at your neck and cheek touched to your temple.

You ease back and pick up the fork for your dinner. It won't be easy and that sucks, but you always have Remus in your corner.