#don’t be a little fuckhead

[andthespidersfrommars]

anyone got some tips dealing w homophobic/transphobic parents when you still live with them? I’m having an especially bad month, and my dad is being unbearable

[duckduckquackity]

Mi amor ❤️

[sugrhigh]

THE BOY IS MINE - ( m.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- after years of friendship, you’ve seen matt date people before, but none of them have been as bad as this new one. you’ve never interfered with any of the girls in the past, but one night she takes it too far and your true feelings come out.

warnings- cursing, unprotected sex (pretend ur on birth control but also wrap it before you tap it), choking, cheating, dom!matt, it’s smut with a plot guys are we surprised (read at ur own fucking discretion PLEASE!)

a/n: thank you @stonermattsgf for the request!! i fucking loved this concept and the song eats down i hope i did u some justice <3 the touch it chris fic will be coming too cuz im fuckin with that song as well (if you weren’t tagged it wouldn’t let me tag you, i’m sorry!!)

@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @sturnioloco @mattinside @l9vesick @sturnsblunt @ev3rgreenxtrees @wh0resstuff @matthewsmocktails @cherrypostsposts @bxbynyah7 @seababehh @sturnsfav @mattsluv @sturniolossss @melanch0lybby @sturniolos-blog @lustfulslxt @sturnioloobssesd @ginswife @amypull @vivianalovesmatt @st4niolos @sturnioloobessed @sturnlova @bigbeefybitch @minhyucks @iheart-zegras @vicsguitarr @melonjollyranche @hearts4matty @vickyzloserz @user8000000 @xoxo4chrisss @unfilteredassmf @mattsbiggesthoe @chrisstopherfilmed @st3rniolo @goldengrapejuice @luv2matt @vsangel-starbies @mikaelabutterfield @mattnchrisworld @bluesturniolo333 @wurlibydominicfike @kp07on @hayleyreadsblog

in no universe did you expect to be pining after one of your best friends.

it had always been strictly platonic between you and matt, aside from a little harmless flirting over the years. you loved him and his brothers so much that you never wanted to mess anything up, or complicate things when the dynamic was already perfect.

but as much as you’re close with each of them, you know you’ve always understood matt on a deeper level. you share the same goals, the same fears, even the same taste in music and movies.

he’s always been the first person to check in, the only one who can read your mood like the back of his hand, the guy who cheers you up and lets you cry on his shoulder when things are shitty.

despite these sweet gestures, you’ve both had your fair share of relationships and flings while being best friends. none of them have ever bothered you before, and you’ve always tried to be respectful and kind to whichever girl he picks.

that is, until now.

matt is sitting across from you on the couch in their living room, slight frown etched on his face. his girlfriend, maya, has her legs sprawled across his lap comfortably, arms linked like she’s claiming him.

her eyes are practically locked on you. you don’t blame her; she’s well aware that you’re not her biggest fan.

all she does is complain about all of the things she doesn’t like about matt. last time she hung out with you guys, she was bitching about the fact that he kissed her in public at a party, as if she was worried he was scaring off other guys.

when he buys her flowers, they’re the wrong ones. if he takes her to dinner, she whines about the food. she’ll even criticize his clothes, demanding that they match and he hides the tattoos. to her, he can’t do anything right, even though he’s incredible just the way he is.

so it drives you absolutely insane watching the way she walks all over matt, all over his brothers, even you. it’s been two months of this agony, and you can’t believe it’s even lasted this long.

you spend nearly every day thinking about how much better you could treat him. every time he touches you, no matter how briefly, your skin burns in desire. it’s selfish to want someone who’s taken, and you’re well aware of that.

but you just love matt, you know him. and he deserves better. maybe it’s you, maybe it’s not. but it’s certainly not maya.

“give it to me, fuckhead.” chris’s voice rips you out of your trance, and you snap your head toward the middle of the U-shaped sofa.

he’s currently fighting nick for the remote, who slaps the side of his arm rather hard. chris lets go, only to pull his brother into a headlock seconds later. nick lets out a yelp of surprise, jamming an elbow into his side to get him to stop.

in all the commotion, you decide to grab the remote for yourself, a wide smile settling across your features as you take it into your palm.

they both notice quickly, groaning in protest as you wave it at them tauntingly.

“too slow! now i get to pick, idiots.” you tease.

“c’mon, i just went to war for that thing.” nick complains, kicking your leg half-heartedly, but you just shake your head.

“snooze you lose.”

you scroll through your options, trying to pay no mind to the way maya is whispering to matt for so long she could be reciting the bible. then your eyes land on a title that makes you pause, chuckling a little to yourself.

“oh no way, they have fucking cocaine bear on here?” chris cackles.

nick looks rather amused himself, raising his eyebrows like he’s intrigued. “i mean, i’m game.”

you glance over at matt, who’s already looking at you with a grin on his face. he mentioned the movie to you a little while ago, and how he just had to see how stupid it was eventually.

“why would we waste our time watching this shit? isn’t it supposed to be awful?” maya chimes from beside him, and your gaze narrows in on her.

“it’ll be funny, you know, ‘cause it’s so bad.” you reply, trying to keep your voice light and friendly.

she tilts her head to the side slightly, studying you with disapproving eyes. “yeah, i’m not so sure about trusting your taste. i mean, that god-awful outfit is just one example.”

the air seems to be sucked out of the room as you grip your sweats self-consciously. nobody moves, nobody speaks. you feel the anger flare up in your veins as you look at matt, wondering if he’s going to step in like he should.

but he doesn’t. in fact, he’s avoiding your gaze altogether. so you square your shoulders and turn your focus back to the girl you dislike so much. you’re done with the passive aggressive comments, with all of the bullshit glares and insults.

you’re done letting her bulldoze you. if matt wants to go through that, fine. but he doesn’t have to take everyone down with him by subjecting them to maya’s presence.

“well, you seem to be the only one who has a problem with my taste, so maybe you should just leave.” you say calmly, smiling sarcastically at the end because you can’t help it.

her mouth pops open, and you can hear chris and nick trying to stifle their gasps and chuckles. even the corner of matt’s lips turn up, which makes you wonder.

maya turns to look at her boyfriend, completely astonished. “are you seriously going to let her talk to me like that?”

he seems conflicted as he briefly looks your direction, clearing his throat to buy some time. you tilt an eyebrow, crossing your arms like you’re just waiting for him to pick his side.

she may have asked the question, but now you’re dying to know the answer.

“maya is right. and, uh, i think you should apologize.” matt fumbles with his words, unable to speak to you directly.

you feel the fury work its way up your face, and you force yourself to blink away the burning sensation of frustrated tears. maya looks far too satisfied, and you want to slap the smirk off of her face.

but you know you can’t lay hands on her, so you decide your words will have to be your knives.

“you know what, i am sorry,” you begin, raising your hands in surrender.

they’re both a bit surprised by this change in direction, so after a brief pause, you continue.

“i’m really sorry that you’re dating a stuck up bitch. i’m sorry that she’s constantly taking advantage of your kindness. i’m sorry that she treats you like shit, that she talks down to you like you’re a child, that she’s never satisfied with the things you do. and i’m especially sorry that you continue to let her, because you can do so much better.”

if maya’s eyeballs could pop out of her skull, you would imagine it would be exactly like how she looks right now. matt is also slack jawed beside her, and you can’t be near him any longer.

so you stand up, turning to leave the boy you love so much without another word.

the fresh night air of spring is a relief once you step out the front door, and you try to let it calm you as you hustle toward your car. you can already feel your phone buzzing in your back pocket as you move, presumably nick and chris.

you hope they’re not angry. it’s bad enough knowing that you’ve royally fucked things up with matt, but you couldn’t bare it if all three of them hated you.

you practically toss yourself into the drivers seat, slamming the door closed with a force that shakes the entire vehicle. you’re peeling out of the driveway before you can even reflect on the consequences of your actions, speeding home as if your life depended on it.

your ringtone continues to erupt as you drive along the backroads, but you force yourself to ignore it for the time being.

only once you throw the car into park in your own driveway do you check the messages, scrolling through the numerous notifications. unsurprisingly most of them are from nick and chris like you presumed, wondering if you’re alright and applauding you for finally standing up to the wicked witch of the west.

for a brief moment, their kind words make you feel better.

but then your eyes catch a contact that you actually don’t expect; matt’s. you stare at your device, throat going completely dry. a missed call and two texts.

matt

i’m coming over

don’t bother saying no, im already on my way

that was five minutes ago, which means he’s not too far behind you. you tear out of your car and across the yard, throwing the door open carelessly.

your heart is still slamming against your ribcage, and fear crawls up your throat as you press your back to the wood, kicking your flip flops off in the general direction of the coat rack.

your mind flashes to the idea of him yelling at you, which you suppose would be somewhat warranted. you’ve seen matt angry on a couple of occasions, and you can’t imagine he has anything kind to say to you right now.

you pace the foyer as you wait for his arrival, picking at the beds of your fingernails anxiously.

and then it happens; the loud knock on the front door, followed by another series of harsh slams.

impatient motherfucker.

you straighten up as your palm wraps around the knob, sucking in a breath before pulling it open to reveal a rather disheveled matt.

he’s breathing heavy, hair messy as if he’s been tugging at it for the entire drive. his earrings glint in the porch light as he stares at you like he’s trying to commit every feature to memory, wetting his lips hungrily.

“matt—”

you barely get his name out before he wraps his ring-clad fingers around your throat, pulling your mouth to his harshly. he molds against you perfectly, his other hand traveling to your hip to hold you flush against his own body.

he just couldn’t help it. he was so desperate on the entire ride over, replaying your outburst on a loop in his mind as he drove further and further away from his girlfriend. there’s been only a few occasions he’s seen you that upset, and your comments had been a necessary slap in the face.

plus, watching you fight for him when he was too much of a bitch to do it himself was a bigger turn-on than he’d like to admit.

all he’s ever wanted is you. and it shouldn’t have taken this long to admit it to himself.

matt guides you backwards, hand still squeezing your neck as he blindly kicks the door shut with one foot. you feel your back bump against the kitchen counter, and you’re trying to register what the hell is going on, but his kiss is so fucking intoxicating that it’s impossible to think clearly.

his tongue slides against yours passionately, and the flavored chapstick you’re wearing is driving him insane. you can feel him growing hard against your thigh as he toys with the elastic waistband of your pants suggestively.

you have no idea if this means it’s officially over with him and maya, but you find that you quite frankly don’t give a shit.

in this moment, he’s yours.

his fingers finally dip into your sweats a few seconds later, traveling down to brush against your clothed heat as he moves his mouth to your jaw sloppily. a breathy moan escapes before you can stop it, involuntarily rutting your hips against his cold rings in search of more friction.

one of your hands goes to grip the hair at the nape of his neck while the other claws at his back, desperately wrapping your knuckle around the cloth of his muscle tee.

“you like that?” matt grumbles against your throat, nipping at the skin as he begins to apply real pressure to your cunt in little circular motions.

your back arches and you tilt your head to the side so you can give him full access, silently hoping he’ll leave a mark behind.

“you’ve been thinking about me touching you like this, haven’t you? wishing i would come fuck you instead of her?” he questions further, moving his head slightly so he’s speaking directly into your ear.

the hand that was choking you slides down so he can grope your chest, his thumb running over one of your hardened nipples through the thin shirt you’re wearing. the combined pleasure has you whining in his grasp, a submissive sound that you wish you weren’t making.

you can feel him grinning as he presses his mouth to that sweet spot below your earlobe, his tongue darting out to wet the area.

“you want me just as much.” you manage to find your voice, though your claim is muttered with no conviction.

matt pauses his movements and brings both hands to your waistband again, which makes you whimper as you clench around nothing. his mouth finds yours briefly to swallow the sound, and he bites down on your bottom lip as he pulls away.

“you’re not wrong. so are you gonna give me what i want, baby?” he asks as he teases your sweats and panties just a little lower on your hips.

“keep going.” you plead.

you let go of your grip on his body so he can tug both items down to your ankles, helping you step out of their grasp before discarding them a couple feet away.

matt doesn’t immediately stand back up; instead he takes his time, kissing the side of your knees as his hands slide up the outside of your thighs. you feel so exposed, so on-display that you clench your legs together before you can help it.

he immediately pries them apart, shaking his head slightly with a little smirk. “don’t be shy now, you had so much to say earlier.”

his words spur you on, so you spread yourself wider, opting to grip the counter as he reattaches his lips to your inner thighs. matt inches closer and closer to where you really need him, taking his time to nip at the supple flesh that comes before.

he pulls away right when you think he’s finally about to put his mouth on you, letting his hot breath fan across your soaked center. it makes you shiver in anticipation, and you’re getting a little too needy now.

“quit fucking teas—oh shit.”

you throw your head back as his two fingers spread you apart, tongue coming in contact with the middle of your cunt as he laps at the wetness that had pooled there.

he slows his pace slightly after a moment, making sure to pay attention to the whole area, working his way up until his nose bumps against your clit. you spit a curse out, letting one hand go so you can grip his soft hair.

matt continues on, his lips closing around the sensitive bud so he can apply more pressure and suction. your gut flips at the sensation and your grip on his roots tightens as his mouth works.

he grumbles, loving the way you’re pulling at him so desperately. the noise sends vibrations through your core, which only makes the experience more enjoyable.

“fuckkk, matt, feels so good.” you praise dumbly, your words slurring.

the vocal admiration makes his pulse quicken, and at this point he’s straining against his jeans. he just can’t believe he’s got you like this, grinding your cunt against his face as if he’s the best you’ve ever had.

he can tell you’re growing closer just based on the little gasps and moans leaving your mouth, and your legs begin to shake ever so slightly. but he won’t let you finish just yet.

“want to be inside this pretty pussy.” he pulls away to say it, pressing one more wet kiss to the delicate area before he gets up.

you’re craving more, so you decide to take initiative, reaching for his belt and fumbling to undo the buckle. you tear it from the loops and toss it away, moving to his zipper as he reaches behind his head to tug his loose tank off.

his pants fall to the floor, leaving him in only his tented boxers. he’s quick to kick his shoes off, followed by his jeans right after.

then his hands go to your waist, fingers digging into the smooth flesh.

“up.” he instructs bluntly, helping lift you onto the end of the marbled countertop so he’s standing between your legs.

he lifts your shirt up next, and you help him out by throwing your arms above your head so he can fully remove it. his eyes train downwards, admiring the way your sheer bra hugs your tits. it hardly leaves anything to the imagination, and matt finds it extremely hot that you’ve been wearing it all night without him knowing.

before he can make a move, you surprise him by reaching back confidently to unhook the garment yourself. you let it slip from your shoulders before throwing it to your side, revealing your bare chest to him wordlessly.

he pulls his lip between his teeth as he exhales, gently guiding you downwards so your back is pressed flat against the cool surface. matt looks intimidating standing over you, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of your body.

“you’re so fucking sexy.” he says in awe, leaning down to give you another real kiss, a salty mix of sweat and arousal on his lips.

then he finds his way down to your collarbone, staying there shortly before traveling between the valley of your breasts. without warning, he presses his tongue flat across one nipple, flicking it back and forth.

you push your chest further into his face with a moan, both hands in his hair this time. he moves to the other perky bud, sucking on it as his teeth graze the tissue ever so slightly.

you’re practically writhing underneath him, and you can feel the pit growing in your stomach again. so even though it feels incredible, you yank his head back off of your chest by his hair.

“need you to fuck me.” you mutter, pushing his hair out of his face with both of your hands.

matt nods once, straightening so he can slide his underwear down. his erection finally springs free, pink tip glistening with precum. you watch as he spreads the wetness around, pumping himself in his hand a few times.

he’s bigger than you expected, and your mouth is watering just thinking about how much you want him to be pounding into you already.

“wrap your legs around me princess.” he commands gruffly, and you do just as you’re told, hooking your ankles behind his back.

his dick presses against your heat, and you buck against it to try and feel more. matt is quick to steady your hips roughly, holding you down against the edge of the counter as he teases himself into your entrance.

you both moan, his low and rumbling, yours high-pitched and greedy. you use your thighs to pull him closer, forcing him to drive into you fully so you can feel that pleasurable stretch.

“mmmn—fuck, you’re so tight.” he sighs, giving you another moment before he begins to drag his cock in and out at a steady pace.

you rock with him as best you can, finding the perfect rhythm so that he’s plowing his full length into you, filling the house with the sound of skin slapping skin.

matt lets one hand wrap around your neck again to choke you, tattoos on display as his muscles flex, and the pressure traps your lewd cries in your throat. his other fingers continue to toy with your nipples, which makes you arch off the counter, head rolled back as your eyes screw shut.

“look at you, taking me like such a good girl. just like i knew you would.” he compliments breathlessly.

he starts snapping his hips harder, enjoying the way your tits bounce as you slide slightly against the slick counter. you look so fucking beautiful, mouth partially open, barely able to squeak out a moan.

never in a million years did matt think he’d get the opportunity to fulfill all of his shamefully dirty fantasies about you, but here you are, completely naked and spread out in your own kitchen.

you’re squeezing around him now with every stroke, and he somehow keeps getting deeper, hitting your g-spot in a way that makes you jerk.

the familiar feeling of your abs tightening occurs as you get closer to your orgasm, and you swear you’re seeing stars at this point. he’s right there with you, a groaning mess as your fingers reach up to dig into his bicep.

“yes, matt, right there! m’gonna—” you fumble over your words, unable to finish the thought as the satisfaction builds.

he uses the last of his strength to drill into you, moving both hands back to your waist quickly so he can slam you down on his cock a few more times.

“come all over this dick baby, don’t hold back.”

you’re practically screaming his name as you hit your high, releasing all over him as his hot cum spills into you at the same time.

he slows his movements as you look up at him with bleary eyes, enjoying the last moments of being inside you before he pulls out. you feel your mixed arousal dripping out onto the counter, and you don’t even care that you’ll have to clean it up later.

that was completely worth the mess.

your chest continues to heave as you relish in the come down, dropping your thighs from his hips so he’s free to move around.

but matt stays between them, leaning down to capture your mouth with his one final time. it’s brief, but it means more than either of you truly understand.

he’s the one to break it first, pressing his forehead against yours before he speaks. “you’re incredible, you know that?”

you smile weakly, pushing against his chest to put some distance between the two of you. reality is creeping back in, reminding you that this was probably a one time thing.

“help me down?” you ask, and he complies.

matt lifts you a bit as you slide off the countertop, setting you back on real ground a second later. you’re not sure what to say as you stand before him, completely fucked out and terrified of whatever is coming next.

“so, um…i should probably get cleaned up.” you try to sound casual, even though you’re feeling anything but relaxed.

he immediately notices the switch in tone, the way you’re wrapping your arms around yourself like you’re trying to shrink away and hide. he’s also pretty sure he knows where this insecurity is coming from.

his fingers go to grip your chin gently, demanding that you look him in the face. your eyes widen as he brushes his thumb along your swollen bottom lip.

“i’m cutting things off with maya. i just…love you. and i’m sorry it took me so long.” matt finally admits.

it takes a second to click in your brain, but when it does a wide grin spreads across your face. butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you kiss the pad of his finger as he moves it along your mouth.

“i love you too, but i think you knew that already.” you tease playfully.

“yeah, maybe. but i like hearing you say it out loud.”

[chelseeebe]

and they said, speak now

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of cheating. femreader!xeddie. no use of y/n!

a little second chance romance story wherein eddie is invited to your wedding, though he’s hopeful that it’ll never actually happen.

a/n: wanted to get this finished so i could start writing a follow up for too sweet (bc i love it and i love mean asshole eddie) so i hope it bridges some sort of gap while i write :p switches pov a lil bit but it’s all marked out 4 ya.

“-gettin’ married to who?” eddie spits, barreling into the living room with a mouthful of cereal.

steve looks up from the paper invite and shrugs, “mark?” mouthing a quiet i don’t know as robin looks between the two.

“and i’m invited?”

“i mean.. it says all of us so..” he looks up at eddie, “do you even want to go?” dubious at eddie’s overly keen questioning.

eddie’s bewildered that he’d even ask, “‘course we’re fucking going,” shaking his head, still gripping onto his bowl of cereal, “i didn’t even know she was datin’ anybody else.. what the fuck.”

robin shares a look with her best friend, thinking eddie hasn’t seen. he knows exactly what they’re not saying. it doesn’t exactly need to be spelled out for him.

perhaps eddie hadn’t ever really gotten over it. it being you leaving to new york for college, breaking up with him in the process.

maybe they were justified in their judgemental glances, it’d been years since you’d left. he should be over it by now. evidently, you’ve moved on. why hadn’t he?

but he wasn’t and now he’s not sure if he’ll ever be.

-

the five of them shovel into jonathan’s car, robin squished between eddie and steve in the back with their bags piled high in the trunk.

eddie stares out of the window, he had started to regret agreeing to go. his ex-girlfriend, whom he wasn’t exactly over, was getting married to some fuckhead he’d never met and now he had to go and wear a suit and pretend to be happy about it all.

“i still can’t believe she’s getting fucking married,” he grumbles into his fist.

robin grins, nudging her elbow into steve’s ribcage, “oh this going to be so much fun,” elated at his misery.

jonathan sighs quietly, throwing his head back against the seat and slyly turning the volume up so as to not hear any more of eddie’s whining.

there’d been months of it, so he’s not surprised.

-

eddie is fucking elated to reach the hotel, gawping at the grand exterior as they get out of the car, stretching their legs after the long trip.

“jeez,” robin utters, staring at the tall building with her mouth hung open, “at least she’s marrying rich, hey?” wiggling her brows at eddie’s less than excited face.

he doesn’t rise to it, ignoring her obvious attempts to get him riled up.

it’s even nicer inside, gold plated ornaments decorate the walls, outdated paintings of old people he didn’t care to know, joining them.

they’re in the process of checking in when a familiar voice comes from behind, a small, meek, “hey guys!”

it’s you.

they spin, sharing tired smiles as you stand looking horrifically awkward. like somehow you hadn’t shared years and years of history with every single person here.

everyone else gets a short, half hug, exchanging niceties while eddie waits patiently for his turn. he doesn’t think you’ll even acknowledge him.

but your eyes lock, that same sinking feeling that he felt all those years ago as he watched your car pull out of hawkins plagues his stomach.

“hey,” you nod, tense as you open your arms for a hug.

it’s more than he’d ever expected, now finding himself stuck, unable to embrace the situation. you’re exactly the same and yet he feels like he doesn’t recognise you. barely touched by the graces of age, still the same girl he was sure he still loved.

eventually he pulls himself together, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you in.

fuck.

you even smell the same. the heavy vanilla scent of your shampoo wafts through the air, transporting him back in time to nights shared in his cramped room, talking about the future together and how you couldn’t wait to get out of hawkins.

it’s utterly ironic, and not to mention heartbreaking, to think about now.

“hi,” eddie musters, sounding as pathetic as he felt.

the others watch on in anticipation, expecting a screaming match only to be met with whatever the fuck this was. dancing around each other like two complete strangers.

“how.. uh, how was the drive?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers, the way you used to when you were nervous.

“long,” he smiles meekly.

there’s too much he wants to say, desperately wanting to just shake you and ask what the hell you’re doing getting married to someone who’s not him.

besides, four sets of eyes watch both of you eagerly, hoping for an argument or maybe the exact opposite.

“there you are!” a gruff voice bellows, coming out of the mouth of the most insufferable looking man eddie’s ever seen.

he walks over with his shit-eating grin, taking you away from eddie’s grasp, leaving an aching in his fingertips.

your brows shoot upward, sighing softly, “everyone, this is mark.. mark, these are my..” your eyes dip, unable to meet eddie’s gaze, “friends.”

mark’s hand extends towards eddie, grinning like a complete fool as he shakes it. “nice to meet you man! heard so much about you,” his grip tight, squeezing the tired bones in his hand.

eddie wonders if he’s asserting his dominance, if you’d told him who exactly he was. about all those years you spent as his girlfriend. about how he used to make you cum in two minutes. or perhaps all the times you swore that if you had to get married, it’d be to him.

eddie doesn’t count on it.

-

eddie waits. and he waits. and he waits.

pacing the floor of his room, contemplating if he truly had the nerve to stalk the halls to your room or if he’d have to sit here and regret it forever.

fuck it, he thinks. there’s no guarantee he’ll even knock on the door, he just needs to get out of here and at least try to.

eddie’s acutely aware that nothing he says to you will change your mind in fact, he thinks you’ll more than likely slam the door in his face.

but he’s gotta try.

- reader’s pov -

it’s a quiet knock, barely audible as you toss and turn.

you debate even answering, too caught up in your nerves to care about some bridesmaid complaining about her dress or your mother prattling on about the floral arrangements again.

but then they knock again, louder this time though it sounds more unsure, a hesitant wrap of the knuckles, pulling yourself from the comfort of your blanket to see what they wanted.

you hardly register who the person is before immediately wanting to slam the door in his face.

“what are you doing?” you hiss through the small gap in the door, noting that it was somewhere between 11 and midnight.

“i wanna talk,” eddie frowns, carefully wedging his foot between the door, as if you wouldn’t immediately notice.

“we don’t need to talk,” you refute, scowling at your batshit crazy ex.

he sighs, looking around the empty corridor, knowing he shouldn’t be here right now. “can we.. i just wanna talk.. that’s it,” his eyes wide and begging.

you take pity on him, you always did when he had that pathetic frown on his face. like a dejected puppy that needed you to cradle him.

something in your head screams out to just close the door, it’s a terrible idea and you know it.

alas, you pull it open a few more inches, giving him the chance to slide inside before it’s shut again, turning the lock immediately.

if anyone were to walk in, your relationship would be ruined, tomorrow would just be a waste of money and you’d be a social pariah in your circles.

“why didn’t you tell me that you were getting married?”

the nerve to ask that question like he deserved an explanation. you haven’t even seen the man in years and yet, he feels as if he’s owed something from you.

“i didn’t know i had to,” you shrug, standing a few feet away from him, hoping to keep the distance.

eddie scowls, brows knitted into a line across his forehead, “you don’t- i thought we were friends.. friends tell each other those things.”

“you haven’t seen me in years eddie!” raising your voice despite being surrounded by your friends and family. “what gives you the right to march in here and ask me that?” stepping closer with every word, taken aback by his sheer nerve.

his eyes harden, jaw tense, “you left me- you did that and then the next time i hear from you, it’s because you’re getting married? s’that not completely fucked up to you too?”

“i didn’t leave you! i went to college, like people our age are supposed to! it’s not my fault that you’d rather sit in jeff’s basement pretending to be a rockstar,” snarling your upper lip, hoping you’ll hit him right where it hurts.

if nothing else, it’s frustrating. eddie was always talking about his big dreams and how he was going to get out of hawkins once and for all, make something of himself and never look back.

but you got tired of waiting for that to happen. years and years of soon and i’m not ready’s had left you pretty hopeless for any kind of future with him.

he shakes his head, scoffing, “oh? so should i have followed you to new york? watched you change everything about yourself for some asshole?”

there’s a lump in your throat now and weirdly, not a speck of anger. at least not about his words for your fiancé. more so about his complete disregard of your feelings, the dreams you put on hold for him.

“i didn’t.. i didn’t change,” bottom lip trembling, “this is me eddie,” nostrils flaring as you skulk closer, “you just don’t know me anymore.”

“i know you better than he does,” he fires back, adams apple bobbing in his throat. a sincere, honest tone.

it only makes you more frustrated, the audacity to come here and act like this, the day before your wedding.

you laugh in his face, a maniacal cackle, “you’re deluded,” gathering all of your strength not to punch him in the face, “you should leave, before you embarrass yourself any more.”

he’s almost frantic now, grasping the air, “i’m not the one embarrassing myself here. the you i know would never want this.. what happened to that girl who promised to marry me? where’s she?”

“people change eddie! you clearly haven’t!” you hiss, prodding your finger into his chest, hoping you’ll somehow set him alight with your fingertip.

he grabs your hand, keeping it close to his heart as his frown sets in. “tell me- tell me that this is what you want, the big wedding and fucking mark and a coupl’a kids, tell me and i’ll leave,” downturned eyes, begging himself not to cry.

you want to scream, ferociously snatching your hand away from him before you turn away. sick to death of looking into his glossy chestnut eyes. loathing the feeling of your past flooding back into your brain.

a few years ago, you would’ve been certain that eddie was the one you were going to marry. marriage wasn’t something you were ever particularly interested in, your parents hadn’t been the best example. but if it had happened, it would’ve been nothing like this, maybe in the tiny chapel in hawkins, a couple years from now, a small, private ceremony with your friends and family. you’d be lying if you said you had never thought about it.

about what could’ve been.

somewhere, buried deep inside, you longed for it.

eddie doesn’t budge, hearing the sounds of his heavy breathing from behind. you can picture that stupid look on his face, pathetic and sullen as he waits for a fleck of hope.

you turn back, praying that you’ll have somehow found the strength to tell him to leave in the two seconds it takes to face him.

it doesn’t come, the lump in your throat dissipating only to be replaced with a fiery pit in your stomach.

and then a moment, where neither of you have the guts to speak any longer, in what feels like the most intense battle of eye contact you’d ever been a part of.

but it’s over as quickly as it started, both of you lurching forward at the same time, lips crashing together in a hungry kiss, finding the side of his head for leverage as his antsy hands grip your waist.

the rest is just a silent routine, one you two have been through a hundred times before.

your back crashes into the desk, pressed into the wood by his torso. a hand squeezing your thigh as you’re helped onto the surface.

the metal on your fourth finger aches, as if some higher power is attempting to intervene, to stop this mistake before it goes too far.

it���s dutifully ignored, spreading your legs to allow him between your soft thighs. the thin material of your shorts meant that you could feel everything. his cock jumping as it brushes against your heat, low grumbling into your mouth at the action.

his jacket slips from his shoulders and onto the floor, your soft hands running down the length of his arms, brushing against the tattoos you used to spend hours tracing.

eddie’s hands roam your body, between your thighs, tucking underneath the elastic of the shorts as your hips lift in unison, allowing him to pull them down.

his throat rumbles at your lack of underwear, rough denim pressed against your cunt, his erection demanding out of his jeans.

your fingers fumble with his jeans, hearing the low clink of his belt somewhere muddled between his grunting and your melodic pants.

the throbbing between your thighs becomes almost insatiable, finding your own release on the rough fabric of his jeans, sighing into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip into yours instead.

cold fingers grip your thighs, lifting your legs so that they rest around his waist, clothed cock nudging against your heat, growling into your mouth.

your head jerks back, “my mom.. my mom’s next door..” you pant, fingers trailing over his lips, doing nothing to muffle his raspy groans.

“good,” eddie smirks, hurriedly tugging his boxers down beneath his balls, burying himself inside of your soaked cunt, “i never liked her.”

a strangled moan is all you manage in response, grabbing at the desk for a little leverage as his hips meet the back of your thighs. any anger you felt towards his insults towards your mother quickly float away, turning into static as he slides slowly in and out.

marvelling at the sight of your cunt once again envelopes around him. you’d missed that, his damn near infatuation with your pussy.

the wooden frame knocks against the wall, whatever shit you had compiled for the morning all comes tumbling down, clattering to the floor alongside your long mewls.

eddie near enough melts, fingers melding into one with your skin, filling your cunt to the hilt. a certain feeling that had never been replaced, only achieved by him and his undeniable love for your pussy.

your lips catch onto his, attempting to muffle his hoarse groans, hoping to to god that the walls were thick enough.

“missed you,” he murmurs, half into your mouth, the other vibrating against your chin as your lips connect in the most careless manner.

your eyes flutter shut, chest heaving, pressed to his as your fingers begin to loosen their grip on the desk. his pace unfaltering with utter desperation, an exhilaration he had chased for years, to no avail.

“fuck,” you whine, regretting the shaky word the second it slips out. one arm hooks around his neck, forehead resting against his as his hair begins to stick.

it’s so disgusting, so wracked with desire that you’re sure you’ll be thinking- feeling it for months.

eddie’s cock nudges against against the spot only he could ever find, his pubic bone catching against your clit. fuelling the inextinguishable fire in your stomach, only making it rise into your throat.

with every fervent thrust he’s grumbling something;

fuck, shit, love you, love you.

your legs tremble, exhausted as they sit around his zealous hips. naturally, they tighten, drawing him in closer, an incessant need to feel all of him all at once.

“you can’t.. not inside,” you pant, opening his eyes to meet his though they’re not on yours. staring starry eyed at the space between your bodies, watching as they collide in ways your heart had longed for.

he’s close, you can tell. choking on his breaths when you squeeze around him, signalling your own orgasm.

“fuck, i can’t-,” eddie howls, desperately pounding his cock into your quivering cunt, giving everything away for the last thirty seconds.

you cry out, toppling over the edge as your stomach all but bursts, the pleasure reaching every last nerve in your body. clinging to his neck with a white knuckle grip, clutching his clammy skin as your body turns to mush before him.

eddie just about manages to pull out, sliding between your slick folds before his stomach lurches, shooting thick ropes of cum onto your stomach, thighs and the desk.

your foreheads remain as one, gasping into the hot air that surrounds you.

finally, his eyes trail up toward yours, meeting with the most sorrowful look that a man who has just cum, could hold.

it’s as if reality sets in, untangling your legs to shove him away. harsh and untoward as he stumbles back, still reeling from his own orgasm.

“oh my god,” you mumble incoherently, “oh my god, i’m getting married tomorrow,” clenching your fist, shouting as if he were somehow unaware.

his silence is deafening, his release still clinging to your body as you jump from the wooden table, marching into the bathroom, swallowing the urge to cry.

eddie stands with his head hung low, belt still undone as you sanctimoniously barging back past him to redress yourself, muttering ferocious whispers to yourself.

“i’m getting married tomorrow,” you repeat, unwavering anger in your voice. undecided on whether you were telling him or yourself that fact.

“so you’re still gonna marry him?” eddie asks, a slight hint of optimism in his tone. he had reason to be, you suppose. anyone else would assume the same.

you swallow, “what else is there for me?”

getting married had been the next logical step. you had the job, the house, the sweet, timid guy that wouldn’t hurt a fly. why wouldn’t you marry him?

his face crumples, brows stitched together in confusion, “me?”

almost on instinct, your head shakes, smacking your palm into his shoulder, “no. not you. it’s not supposed to be you,” a certain sadness plaguing your tone, “it was never supposed to be you,” palm slapping into his chest.

eddie’s face falls, holding his jacket in his hands wishing you’d take it back, tell him you were lying and that you really did still love him.

buried somewhere under years of regret, you probably still did.

tears weep out of the corner of your eye, quickly wiped away with your trembling finger. “you need to leave,” eyes pointed to the floor, refusing to look at him any longer.

he sighs, hesitantly stepping around the mess you both had made and out of your peripheral view. slow steps, willing for your mouth to open and those three words to dance out of it.

the door clicks shut and you’re alone again. nauseous and wishing you had just let him stay, wanting nothing more than to be held in your insurmountable feelings of remorse.

-

you’ve barely slept, overwhelmed with a sense of guilt and indecision.

six years of work and making something of yourself had come horrifically crashing down in one night, one stupid, moronic mistake.

but was it really a mistake when your heart still aches and your lips still feel the traces of his.

a short knock breaks you from your trance, the noise you’d been dreading all night.

sarah. bright-eyed and stupidly excitable nature, ready for your wedding day.

“woah,” she remarks, eyes darting around the room you’re just now realising you forgot to clean, “crazy night?” she smirks, eyeing the bottles and pens that had fallen from the desk to the floor.

“oh,” you smile, bile rising in your throat, “i’m just..” clambering for an excuse, “clumsy.”

she scoffs, dumping her bag on the unmade bed, “you don’t have to lie to me,” smile growing, “if you and mark wanna.. break traditions then i’m all for it.”

her wilful innocence makes you feel all the more worse. you’re supposed best friend was none the wiser, bouncing around with a proud smile, ready for your wedding day.

- eddie’s pov -

steve notices something’s up immediately.

dark rings accompanying eddie’s eyes after he had gone missing for hours last night.

“you good?” steve’s hand thwacks against his back, assuming eddie’s manner was all to do with the fact that you were getting married and not that only a few hours ago, he was telling you that he still loved you while you were having sex.

the ride to the venue is quiet, which everyone appreciates, having prepared for a litany of complaints and whining.

the church is even more extravagant than the hotel, resembling one of those castles he’d seen in a fairytale book.

he wants that to make him feel better, that at least he wasn’t the one wasting all of this money on a stupid wedding, but it doesn’t.

because irregardless of how much money you were spending, you were still marrying someone else.

sure, it wouldn’t be a particularly honest nor holy marriage but it’d be a marriage nonetheless. something he would never have with you. no matter how hard he tried.

they file into the pew, sitting slumped against the varnished wood as everyone chatters around him.

concerned heads fly around, the groomsmen rushing up the aisle as they’re beckoned by your bridesmaids.

eddie sits up, looking around at the frantic bridesmaids who were desperately trying to get the pastor’s attention. something’s wrong. he can feel it in his bones.

he throws up a quick two with his fingers to steve before sliding out of the pew, ducking his head down the aisle as he searches for you.

slipping past the worried wedding party, opening a multitude of doors in search of you. hoping that you’d at least made it to the church, that you were okay.

he doesn’t expect to find you in here, holding onto your mouth, mascara stains dripping down your cheeks, curled into the corner with your shoulders shaking. eddie slips in, shoving the broom in between the door handle, ensuring that no one else could find the pair of you.

you spend a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes until you squeak, “what’re you doing?” the most soul crushing tone that makes his heart ache.

“i came to find you,” he says, simply.

because he would, he’d do it in every life.

your palm smears the black stains around your cheek, scoffing at his words. “you shouldn’t have.. i’m fine,” trying to convince yourself more than you were him.

“you don’t look fine.”

your bottom lip trembles, threatening to spill over again. evoking a harsh stab of guilt through his chest. eddie surges toward you, placing his palms over yours, “you don’t have to do this.. we can leave right now,” he assures, searching your eyes. he’d whisk you away in a heartbeat, you didn’t even have to ask. just give him that look.

your nostrils flare, a wail constricted to the back of your throat, trying hard not to alert the hundreds of wedding guests sat just a couple hundred meters away. the dark light of the closet does well to accentuate your tearful eyes, his heart aching with every sniffle, every quietened sob that falls from your lips.

then, you growl, rather forcefully slapping his chest, “this is your fault,” fingers grabbing onto his suit jacket, “why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” frustration seeping out of your words.

eddie doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that would make you feel better.

so he stands in silence, letting you treat him like your verbal punching bag.

“i can’t do it,” you cry, burying your face into his neck, “i can’t.. marry him.”

he nods, stood just before you in this cramped closet, “you don’t have to,” assuredly grabbing your sodden cheeks, streaks of black stain his palms, “we can go.. anywhere you want, right now.”

promising the world because really, it was all he had to offer.

he wasn’t rich, hadn’t figured out how to get the fuck out of hawkins yet but he did know that he loves you and he’d do anything to prove that.

you swallow, averting your eyes to the sparkling ring on your hand, curled into the fabric of his jacket. “okay,” flicking back to his eyes, it’s so simple and yet it knocks the breath from his lungs.

nothing really registers, eddie had planned for more bargaining, certain that regardless of his pleas, you’d still end up walking down that aisle, promising yourself to another man.

“really?” he asks, clarifying for both himself and for you. there was still time for you to pull yourself together and go get married, he wasn’t going to deny you that.

“really,” you nod frantically, “i’ll go anywhere,” tugging at the collar of his shirt, “anywhere with you.”

[emmyrosee]

YALL BASED ON THIS VIDEO HERE IM SCREAMING-

-

It’s been hours since you’ve smiled at Rintaro.

Not since this morning when you left. He was home today, all day, left to watch your three year old, and be home to see your nine year old. You’d kissed the side of his nose, reminded him of some chores, and everything was fine for you to go out and do your own set of errands.

But to come home to a trash bag sitting outside of the door and not in the barrel that got emptied today?

Oh. Screw smiling.

There may have been a small argument that broke out once you told him, about how he assumed you’d take the trash out since you were leaving the house- of which you snapped that it’s not your responsibility to automatically take out the trash when you leave.

Your son, Akito, was only left to watch the chaos, setting up the console he and his father were about to play on.

“I forgot, okay!” He snaps, rolling his eyes. “I’ll take it out later, it’s fine!”

“It’s not fine!” You yell back. “The trash was already taken! It’s worthless at this point to do it!”

He looks like he’s about to say something back, but you see him bite his tongue. “Good choice,” you snarl. Leaving him and Akito, you make your way upstairs and into your bedroom where you get changed into something that doesn’t emit outside-world feeling. You take a quick shower, wash your face, and when you step out still angry, you’re quick to make a new game plan.

Once you’re done with your small dose of self care, you stomp into the kitchen for something to eat, hoping that it’ll help curb any further anger coming from you both.

Crackers and cheese, some little slices of fruit which you intend to pair with they jelly you got on your last visit to the city.

You grab the jar and with a deep, frustrated exhale, you grip the cover and try to twist.

When it doesn’t budge, you feel your eye twitch.

You try again, to no avail. You grab the nearest towel in an attempt to get a better grip. No dice.

You sigh, tossing the rag to the side before stalking your way into the living room, grimace etched on your face.

“Can you open this?” You ask, and just as Rintaro pauses the game and tosses his controller aside to reach for the jar, you slip right past him and pass it to Akito, who takes it in his hands to pop open the lid.

With a small grunt he manages to open the lid, passing you the jar with a small smile, “here, ma.”

“Thank you, handsome man,” you hum, blowing him a kiss and blowing a raspberry at Rintaro when you make your way back to the kitchen. There’s a pause of silence, a question you don’t quite catch from your son, and suddenly, you hear your husband jump up from the couch. You smirk. It doesn’t take long before feet quickly pound their way into the kitchen, and a disgruntled Rintaro stands, pouting, in the doorway.

“What. Was that about?”

You shrug softly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t give me that crap,” he says, brows furrowed in frustration. “You’re seriously going to use my own creation against me?”

“Your creation?” You scoff in disbelief. “First off, I don’t remember you carrying our two children around for nine damn months. Second of all, our children are not creations. They’re children.”

“Point one,” he begins, quickly walking over to you. “You were hot as fuck carrying around our spawn. Secondly? Last time I checked, our baby machines only worked when together.”

“Feral!” You snap, giving him a grossed out look before turning towards the snacks you’d been making. “Get the hell out of my kitchen, I don’t want you here- HEY!”

Before you can think, Rintaro reaches past you and grabs the jar of jam, quickly raising his arm above his head to get it out of your reach. You would’ve tickled him for it, but the jam was from a small business three cities over. And the fuckhead knew that, and you hate him for it.

“You’re such a pain!” You growl, making a jump for it. You barely come close. Your fingers wrap around his shoulder in an attempt to yank his arm down, but he tightens it up completely to make it immobile. You’re rendered completely helpless to your husbands cruelty.

“Akito!” You call your son in hopes for assistance, snarling up at your husband. Instantly, socked feet slip along the floor, and at the sight of his figure in the doorframe, Rintaro bears his teeth.

“Don’t help your mother, she has to learn a lesson!” He snaps.

You growl back, “don’t listen to your father, you and your sister’s snacks depend on it!” Akito’s green, confused eyes flick back and forth between you both, and if you weren’t so stubborn, you’d think about how absolutely hilarious this is.

Rintaro, in all his 185 cm glory, holding a damned jar of jam above his head, so much so a sliver of his side pokes out from his shirt, and you, crossing your arms childishly after making extreme reaches for the jar.

It’s ridiculous, it’s childish, and it’s perfect for your marriage.

Akito gnaws his lip, “I mean… Ma is the boss, dad-“

“If you scram, I’ll double your allowance this week.”

“Bye mom!”

With the last bit of hope you have, you watch as he skates his way back into the living room, eye twitching in annoyance. “Kaiya wouldn’t betray me like that!”

“She’s three, mom!”

“She’d still help!”

Left to your own pity, you once again make a reach for the jar, only for him to reel his arm back a little bit more. “Give me a break, I have snacks to make,” you say, voice pitched in annoyance and defeat.

“Tell me you won’t go to our son for husband jobs.”

“Tell me you’ll take out the trash when I tell you to!”

“I thought you were throwing it out!”

“Why would you not check!”

“I didn’t think I had to!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll check on your waking daughter,” Akito calls annoyed from the living room, the only thing breaking up your argument.

With a deep, exhausted breath, Rintaro slowly lowers his arm, though still keeping a slight distance between you. “Cant we both say we’re wrong?”

“I’m never wrong,” you snip.

“I know, but for the sake of waking our three year old up, please just cave with me. Please, baby. I’m-“

He’s cut off by your quick lunge for the jar. He yanks it out of the way, and you’re left chasing it like a dog with a treat. You do, however, hear your husband laugh, but it’s not the laughter of victory from a few moments ago.

It’s laughter of adoration.

“I will leave you.”

“Gotta get the jar first.”

You, once again, for the nth time in a row, make a reach for it, but this time, Rintaro’s free arm quickly wraps around your waist to encase you in a hug, and he leans you back into the most ridiculous dip you’ve ever been apart of. You can’t begin to fight your own laughter that bubbles past your lips, fingers instinctively gripping his collar for stability.

Once your titters are finished ringing in the air, he straightens you both up, relaxing as you thunk your head against his chest. The jar gets put down on the counter, and he kisses the crown of your head sweetly as his arms tug you close.

“You’re annoying,” you purr.

He chuckles, “I know.” He closes his eyes and gently breathes in your scent, “and I’m sorry about the trash my love. Even if I thought you took it out, I really should’ve just. Checked.” Long fingers gently smooth up your neck to gently massage the nape, and he hums as you melt like putty against him.

“Now it’s gonna sit,” you pout. “In the trash outside. And it’s gonna smell. And we’re gonna be the house with smelly ass trash.”

“I know,” he repeats, trying not to laugh at your concerns. “I’ll take care of it princess- and worst case scenario, I’ll write letters apologizing to the neighbors for our rotten trash.”

You snort softly against his collarbone as you continue to nuzzle closer, “I’m sorry I went to Akito to open my jar,” you confess, angling your head up at him. He smirks and leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, his hands moving up to cup your cheeks lovingly.

“You wanna know a secret?” He asks against your lips.

You hum in intrigue.

“I’m pissed because I tightened them all when you were in the shower, so you’d have to talk to me.”

“SERIOUSLY?”

[aestheticaltcow]

Two Months

Carmy really fucked up, but maybe he can prove his worthiness and get his girls back.

MDNI 18+

The Bear Masterlist

Previous part Next part

Carmy sighed when his call went to voicemail after a few rings. He pushed a hand through his hair and listened to your voicemail message, “Hey baby- I just wanted to know if I could see Mia. I know you don’t want to see me, but I need to see her… if you could just bring her by the restaurant, that would be fine. I just want to hold my daughter. Uh- yeah. I’m sorry, I’m a fuckin’ dumbass. Please just give me five minutes to explain everything. Let me know. I love you.” he hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. He stared up at the ceiling as he thought about you and Mia. It had been a couple of weeks since he’d seen either of you, and he just needed his girls again. 

“Asshole. Sign here.” Natalie barked at Carmy as she entered the office with an ordering forum. She shoved the papers at him before crossing her arms over her chest. “Natalie, I get it okay. I fucked up. My wife kicked me out of our house, I’m living in a shitty hotel, and I haven’t seen my daughter in weeks. I’m not in the fucking mood to deal with your bitching.” Carmy replied, glaring at his sister. She rolled her eyes, “You turned out so much like Dad.” she laughed, yanking the documents back. Carmy huffed, “Fuck you.”

“Right back at you, Carmen,” Natalie said, slamming the door behind her as she exited the office. “You okay, Sugar?” Richie questioned softly, noticing the anger in her eyes. She rolled her eyes and pushed past him without saying anything; being in the same vicinity as Carmy was irritating. Whenever she saw his face, she thought of Mia and how Carmy had repeated their father's actions. Natalie sighed when she got into her car, “I’m sorry you had to hear that, baby… let’s go get your brother.”

~

“Hey, Carm- everything okay with Y/N?” Richie awkwardly asked as Carmy was doing prep for that night's dinner service. “What do you think fuckhead?” Carmy snarkily responded; Richie rolled his eyes and decided to match his energy. “Well, she texted Tiff asking for her DIVORCE LAWYER’S info.” he leaned against the counter with a shit-eating grin. Carmy slammed his knife down and pushed past Richie to go into the alley. “That was fucked up, kid.” Tina scolded as she exited the walk-in. Richie shrugged, “I was going to be subtle, but he’s being a little bitch.” 

Carmy closed his eyes, fighting back tears when Syd showed up for prep. “Hey Carmen, are you okay?” she asked, stepping closer. He shook his head and let out a puff of air, “Y/N’s gonna leave me- I fuckin’ deserve it, but I want my wife Sydney. She won’t even fuckin’ talk to me, but she’ll fuckin’ divorce me? It’s bullshit.” Carmy cried to her. Syd stood there for a moment to collect her thoughts. She swallowed before sitting down next to him and pat Carmy’s shoulder as she began to explain her point of view on the situation, “You fucked up, Carmen. But you love Y/N and Mia- just go. Go home. I’ll cover tonight. Go talk to your wife.” 

Carmy took Syd’s suggestion. He wasn’t sure if you’d let him in or even talk to him, but he knew he should at least try.

~

“I don’t know Natalie. I just… I mean- I’m gonna sound like a dumb bitch, but maybe I could?” you groaned into your phone as Natalie was about to answer the doorbell rung. “Hey Nat, can I call you back in a bit? Someone’s here.” you waited for her passive agreement and hung up. You put your phone in your back pocket and went to the front door. You felt your stomach flip when you opened the door to reveal Carmy standing in your doorway. He was an unshaven mess, with messy curls and dark circles under his eyes. “Carmen? What are you doing here?” you questioned, bracing the door, hoping it would prevent him from entering your once-shared house. “You’re divorcing me?” he asked on the brink of tears. You sighed, “I asked Tiffany for her lawyer's information- that’s all.” 

“Y/N, you can’t leave me without giving me a chance to make things right.” Carmy pleaded. You sucked your teeth, “Carmen, I really don’t want to talk about this right now… Mia’s asleep, but you can come in and say goodnight if you want.” you offered as you pulled your sleeves over your hands. Carmy nodded furiously, “I-I, ye-yes, please.”

Carmy stared down at Mia’s sleeping body. She was splayed across her crib in a green onesie with a pacifier to match. Carmy swallowed as he watched her legs twitch. “She doesn’t like sleep sacks anymore?” he asked softly. You nodded before answering, “She decided it was her own personal hell a couple weeks ago, so now she’s a big girl.” 

Carmy laughed softly and put his hand on Mia’s cheek. She squirmed and leaned into his hand, “I love you, princess.”

You walked Carmy out of the nursery and into the hallway by the front door, “Can we talk?” Carmy asked, trying not to burst into tears and lock himself in the nursery. You nodded, “Okay. What do you want to talk about?” 

Carmy swallowed. “I know you hate me, but I need to see Mia.” He took a quick breath before continuing, “Y/N, please don’t keep my daughter from me. I’ll give you whatever you want. I just need to see my daughter.” Carmy sniffled as he wiped his eyes. 

Guilt. When you saw the hurt on his face, you knew what you had to do. “Next time I need someone to watch her, I’ll call you.” you offered, Carmy grinned and thanked you before starring at you with the same love and admiration he always had. He turned to walk back to his car but stopped in the middle of the yard, “I love you. I’m gonna win you back.” he pushed a hand through his hair before shoving them in his jacket pockets. You rolled your eyes, “Bye Carmen. Drive safe.” 

~

The flu hit your office like a semi-truck. Everyone got sick, including you, and taking care of a sick baby proved more complicated than you’d thought. No one could help you, so reluctantly, you called Carmy to come be with Mia that night. He was over the moon but tried to play it cool, you saw it through immediately. It was sweet in a cheesy, trying too hard kind of way.

“Hey baby, I brought you pastina soup and Tylenol.” he grinned, handing you a paper bag, “Thank you, Carmen.” you were short with him. Carmy noticed but chopped it up to you being sick, “I can make you some tea.” he offered as you walked back to your bedroom. “I’m fine, Carmen. Please just watch Mia,” you said over your shoulder before closing the bedroom door behind you. You wanted to be mad at him, but it was hard when he was so thoughtful… and handsome. He cleaned himself up since the last time you saw him.

Carmy sat back on the couch, making funny faces at Mia. She squealed and grabbed the air in Carmy’s direction. “I missed you so much, princess.” he laughed as he brought her up to his chest; he rubbed her back as she tried to hug him. “Okay, let's check on Mommy and then make some dinner. Daddy missed his favorite sous.” Carmy explained as he got up. The two walked down the hallway, Mia babbling away as Carmy adjusted her in his arms. He bumped the bedroom door open with his hip and saw you peacefully sleeping. He stepped into the bedroom and grabbed the trash from your side table. Mia grumbled as the two of you exited the room; Carmy chuckled and kissed her temple. “I know, princess. I wanna snuggle with Mommy too, but she doesn’t feel well… and hates me, but we’ll figure it out.”

You abruptly woke up around midnight when you heard talking through the baby monitor. You stumbled out of your bedroom and across the hall to the nursery; the door was askew, and as you approached it, you more clearly heard Carmy’s voice. He was laying on the floor next to Mia’s crib, “My little Mia… I wish you could stay this little forever.” he whispered as he put his hand up to the crib gate. The sight alone made your heart yearn for your family to be back together. You knew what you had to do.

~

“And that princess is how you make scrambled eggs, the right way.” you laughed when you overheard Carmy’s cooking lesson. You walked into the kitchen and saw Carmy plating up scrambled eggs, “Hey.” you greeted as you got a mug from the cabinet. Carmy grinned in your direction, “Mornin’ baby. Feelin’ better?” 

“Feelin’ waaaaaaay better,” you started, “Thanks for coming over to take care of her. I really appreciate it.”. Carmy leaned against the counter, “I’m her Dad- it’s my job.”

“You’re a good one… I don’t know where you’ve been staying, but if you want, I uh- I made up the guest room if you want to come home…” you explained, “I feel like I’ve been keeping Mia from you, and that’s fucked up.” you rocked on your heels hoping Carmy wouldn’t assume this offer meant you wanted to get back together. He nodded immediately, “I would love that.” Carmy was giddy at the idea of getting to be with Mia every day again- it also gave him an opportunity to win you back.

It had only been a few days since Carmy had been back home, and he jumped right back into the daily hustle and went above and beyond what he usually did. Carmy changed his schedule and managed to do a lot of his restaurant owner duties at home so that he could be with Mia more. The house was clean, the pantry was stocked with all your favorite snacks, home-cooked meals, and a very happy baby, and it drove you crazy.

“I just- this man is driving me insane.” you ranted as you sipped your margarita. It was girls’ night out with Syd and Natalie. You were two margaritas in and deep in your feelings. “I should just forgive-” you were cut off by Natalie exclaiming, “NO! You can’t just forgive him, Y/N. He’s a fuckin’ idiot for even thinking about being with another woman. It makes all his ‘you make me a better man’ vows bullshit. Our Dad used to do the same shit to Donna all the time- and she just accepted it! Then he left her. I don’t want Carmy to do the same to you- he already fuckin’ started doing it.”

You were taken aback by Natalie’s ranting and raving; you’d known that Carmy had a difficult relationship with his Dad, but you hadn’t known the full extent. You looked at Syd, wanting her to weigh in on the situation, “Carmy’s an asshole, but he’s your asshole. He loves you. He loves Mia. I don’t know if he’ll do it again - if my partner pulled something like this on me, I think I’d hear them out.”

It was almost 10 when Carmy had finally managed to get Mia to fall asleep. He was exhausted after a long day, but when he’d gone into your bedroom to get the baby monitor, he couldn’t help but notice a satin black thong sitting on the top of the laundry hamper. He stared at the underwear for a moment before shaking his head. He wasn’t going to take his wife’s dirty underwear. Carmy walked toward the door before pausing and going back to the hamper. “I guess I am that guy,” he scoffed, grabbing the panties and putting them in the pocket of his sweatpants. 

Carmy lay in bed leaning against a pile of pillows, scrolling through the private folder on his photo app. “There it is…” he mumbled as he tapped the video before putting his headphones in. “You promise no one else will see this, right?” your voice flooded Carmy’s ears as he pushed his sweats off. “Of course not, baby.” he reassured you as your hands reached for his zipper. He watched as you bit your lip and unzipped his pants. Carmy groaned as he watched you give him a blow job. Carmy took the underwear he’d stolen from your bedroom and started stroking himself. The sensation reminded him of when he’d tease you before relentlessly fucking you into a crying mess. 

“Oh fuck-” Carmy exhaled as he felt his orgasm approaching. He swiped to the next video of riding him. Carmy salivated at the sight of your bouncing tits. You were moaning his name as your movements got more frantic, “Cream all over my fuckin’ cock, baby.” 

“That was a fun night,” you said startling Carmy, he dropped his phone before quickly covering himself with a blanket as you stood in the doorway. You giggled at his reaction, you were just going to ask how Mia was before going to bed but catching Carmy masturbating with your underwear… blame it on the alcohol but you wanted a taste.

“I uh- I didn’t hear you- hear you come inside.” Carmy stumbled over his words as you fully entered the guest room. “No need for you to be embarrassed, Carmy…” he watched with wide eyes as you moved around the bed to sit next to him on the bed. You sighed and pushed the blanket off his lap to expose him.

You pushed your hand up Carmy’s thigh, making him swallow hard. “What made you so hard, baby? Were you being a little perv… jacking off with my dirty panties… watching a video of me sucking your cock?” you mewled as you ran your fingers along his thigh. Carmy nodded as he stared into your eyes. You giggled and grasped the base of his length. He croaked as you started to stroke him, “You like that baby?” you asked cocking your head to the side, staring up at him. He nodded as he let his head fall back against the headboard.

Carmy whimpered as you ran your tongue along the bottom of his cock. You swirled your tongue around his leaking tip, making him swear under his breath. As you took more of him in your mouth, his whimpers turned to whiny moans. You pulled away with a pop. Carmy stared down at you, watching a string of saliva connect your lips to the head of his cock. “Does that feel nice, baby?” you asked as you returned to pumping your hand around him. “So-so nice,” he replied, touching your cheek. You smiled as you pushed it away.

“But, why should I suck your cock if you’re gonna let just any woman off the street suck it?” you asked. Carmy shook his head, “Only-only you, baby-y.” he shuddered.

“Only me? Tell me, Carmen, who does this cock belong to?” he was putty in your hands as you slowed your pace. “You, baby, only you.” he groaned, “Prove it.” you challenged.

Carmy buried his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly pressed into your entrance as you lamented at the familiar sensation. You held onto Carmy’s shoulders as he started thrusting his hips in a steady rhythm, “Hmm, Carmy…” you hummed as he hungrily kissed your neck.

“I don’t deserve you baby…”

Tag List @namjoons-crabssss @sl-ut @thottae @cuddlehye @prurose @1184p @chaoticfanficfanx @ok-boke @literatureluster @bxtchopolis @americanprometheuss @buckystwilight @earth-elemental18 @thebearlily @siren-melodies @thel0v3hashira143 @innercreationflower @unpoqu1todetodo @thehouseofevangelista @pizzaspirits @aleemendoza2425-blog @visualbutterflysworld

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

I just. I don’t really want to keep talking about it, but I have to get these feelings out because the more I think about Somerton’s excuses video the angrier I get, ESPECIALLY given his insistence in the video that there isn’t a real community within LGBTQ spaces—specifically this quote; “We wanted it to be a channel where every queer person could feel welcomed... And we failed at that. That is something that, in hindsight, I think is impossible to create.”*

Because wow! Aren’t you the one who called Becky Albertalli, a bisexual woman, straight ?? Aren’t you the one who has consistently stolen queer and lgbtq people’s work as your own , profiting off of their labor and research and time? Aren’t you the one who sicced your fan base on smaller creators who noticed your plagiarism??? Aren’t YOU the one who LIED blatantly about lesbians “historically having it easier” than gay men ?? That LIED about Radclyffe Hall’s book being banned and destroyed???? What was it you said?? That she got to go on with “her merry little life”???

Fuck you. How dare you.

How dare you say there is no community, no safe space for all of us, when you have literally done NOTHING but maliciously and consistently stolen from, lied to, manipulated, and put down and bullied the community.

You have done nothing but try to break apart and put down your lgbtq siblings, so of course you believe that solidarity, safety, and intersectionality within our community is not something that can exist.

There are lgbtq people who are actively working to make those spaces, where everyone feels welcomed, but you clearly see yourself as being above that, above collaboration and community, above listening to other’s experiences.

You only think that a space where all queer and lgbtq people are welcomed and feel safe is impossible because your goal was never to carve out that space. It was to make money and take advantage of the people who looked up to you.

You think it’s impossible because you never once thought about the people you were stealing from, never once cared about the community, our history, the activism of our elders and all they did, never thought about how your actions and lies would hurt the community.

Stop making excuses and lying. Be fucking better.

———————————————————————

*(Somerton, James. “A Measured Response.” YouTube, uploaded by James Somerton, 26 February 2024, https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=kCNByQ6WopM)

(And that’s how you cite a FUCKING source, James. It took me a minute, after two seconds of research on how to source a YouTube video. Fuckhead)

*I added the link to the video to make a point, as you need to have it in citations. The video is monetized, so please either don’t click it and watch elsewhere OR watch with ad-blockers.

[charnelhouse]

Thinking of ghost as a dad makes me think of red taking her toddler son shopping for Halloween decorations and seeing a skeleton and the sweet boy is pointing and bouncing up and down like “it’s dada!”

A/N: Ghost x F!Reader (Red Fox). Pure fluff. This ask made me curl up with joy.

She’s a little late. Only ten minutes and it could be anything: traffic, an additional errand, a parking lot shoot-out. Simon’s fingers twitch as his cell phone sits on the coffee table.

It’s only ten minutes.

Ten. Minutes.

He’d lost her in Ecuador for four fucking days, and she’d been fine. Well, relatively fine. Alive.

She can survive anything. He knows this. He feels this. But he cannot shake the belief that one day, his past will catch up to him and take her away. 

Don’t be a fuckhead, Simon. If it’s anyone’s past, it’s going to be mine. 

That makes me feel better, duchess. 

We’re sharing the burden, babe. Lucky for this kid, he’s got two spec ops, hot-ass parents. 

Yah really love a finger gun, don’t you? 

It’s called levity, dude. You’re too damn broody. 

“Don’t call her.”

Simon startles before side-eyeing Johnny, who is spread out on the far end of the couch. “I wasn’t gonna,” he growls defensively. 

“You’re staring at that phone like it’s a bomb.”

“She’s late.”

“She’s running errands with your enormous toddler. Yah know how hard it is to lift that kid? Try wrestling him into a car seat. Took me half an hour.”

Simon scowls. “Of course, I know. I do raise him.”

Johnny wiggles his eyebrows. “He takes after me.”

“Yeah, my enormous son is definitely your kid, tiny.”

“I’m six fuckin’ feet. Thank yah very much.”

“You’re still here?” 

Simon twists around to see Red standing in the doorway. She’s got their son on her hip and an orange plastic bag in her other hand. She leaves him breathless. Her skin dewy, her hair falling in her face. Stunning in a way that burns him. He still wants to shove her over a table and wreck her, but that desire is now weighted with something far more tender. She’s carried his baby.

He knew she’d be a good mother, but he didn’t expect her to excel at it so...perfectly. She can handle a tantrum and peel a man’s skin off.  She can silence him with a look.

“Simon said I could stay for dinner,” Johnny declares.

“I did not,” Simon refutes as he stands, rolling his shoulders. Their son’s tiny lips peel apart into a toothy grin, he claps his chubby hands together. 

“Dada,” he squeals as he opens his arms. 

Ghost smiles back, unable to blunt the joy that unfurls in his chest. Sometimes it’s all too much. 

“He got you something,” Red says as she places him on the floor. When she straightens, she presses her hand to her lower back. “Jesus - that kid is heavy. Remind me to stop having your babies.”

“Uhuh,” Ghost says dutifully. “Of course.”

She’d threatened to leave him a thousand times when she was giving birth. Their son’s head had not been easy to deliver. 

Red pulls something from her bag and hands it to their son, who waddles toward him. Simon crouches and sweeps him up in his arms. The boy squeals again delighted. 

“What have you got there?” he asks as he nuzzles his nose into the down of his son’s head, the soft velvet curls. He smells like Red’s perfume.

“Dada!” he giggles as he lifts a plastic skeleton. Soap barks with laughter. 

“He saw it in the store and lost it,” Red says as she walks toward them, placing a hand on the boy’s back. He shakes the skeleton before hugging it close. “Kept calling it dada. Got a lot of weird looks.” She cocks her head, her tongue darting over her lower lip. “I just wanted everyone to know that I’m getting it from a really hot skeleton.”

“Yah got a filthy head, Foxy.”

“You don’t even live here, Johnny.”

“Dada,” his son murmurs as he burrows his face into Simon’s throat. The skeleton is clutched against his chest, and he feels the boy relax, his damp, milky breath puffing against him as he nods off. 

Simon clears his throat, blinking a few times. There’s a raw snag of emotion in his throat that he can’t seem to swallow. Simon tries to pull the skeleton from the boy’s hands to look at it, but his son yanks it closer. 

“Typical,” Red remarks, her lips quirking in amusement. 

“What is?” Simon smirks because he already knows.

“Do you know how hard it is to shake you off when you’re asleep? It’s like being spooned by a bull slash octopus.”

“It’s true,” Johnny interjects in an empathetic tone. “Remember Siberia?”

“That was a life and death situation!” Simon snaps. “Sub-zero temperatures.”

Red’s eyes widen, her expression intrigued. “Give me the details, Johnny, and I’ll make you dinner.”

[gingerhastoomanyobsessions]

the lords in black are so interesting to me because. they’re so us. we’re watching the citizens of hatchetfield suffer for our own entertainment just as much as they are. we’re their accomplices in all of it

pokotho made hatchetfield into a musical because musicals are entertaining. and we ate that shit up! it’s soooo fun watching a little man scramble as the world around him bursts into song. the musical genre is satirized because pokey knows how the genre conventions work just as well as we do. we like watching musicals so much that black friday and npmd are musicals, too, even though they don’t revolve around pokotho’s plans as much as tgwdlm. we want them to sing. pokotho does too.

bliklotep is the audience and the audience is bliklotep. trail to oregon calls the audience “the watcher with one thousand eyes” and that’s not all, in watcher world blinky seems to be able to see through the eyes of anyone and everyone who loves spectacle. he wants to see the characters go through angst because WE love angst. it’s fun to watch alice and bill express their buried frustrations. blinky wants it to end in bloodshed because he loves tragedy, and let’s face it, so do we. it’s like that one post about how hamlet is aware of the audience and is angry that we don’t do anything to intervene because we want to see how it plays out. personally, I think blinky could have stopped the woodwards if he really wanted (he’s an elder god, after all) but alice shooting him shifted the narrative so that the emotional payoff would be more fulfilling if they escaped. and blinky loves a good story.

t’noy karaxis has blorbos. we joke about it, but that’s really what it is, isn’t it? he’s the fan who watches the movie again and again and again and again to see his favorite character’s dramatic death scene. he’s the guy who writes and reads angst fics by the hundreds because he likes to see his faves cry. he’s the hatchetfield enjoyer who’s on the edge of their seat waiting to see how ted kicks the bucket this time. the bastard’s box is pretty much just an ao3 account filled with whump and hurt no comfort. he’s sadistic AND he genuinely adores ted, because we fans are often cruelest to the characters we love the most. he puts ted through character growth— the realization that his life went the way it did because of his own mistakes, his inability to be vulnerable with jenny before it was too late— and he does that by writing a 56-chapter angst fic that’s still updating to this day

nibblenephim is the fan who voraciously devours every scrap of content that a creator produces and demands more, more, more. let’s face it, the fandom will never let starkid rest until we see this story through to its end. and then someone will demand a sequel series. nibbly is hungry because we will never stop yearning for more stories. he’s simple because that desire itself is simple— as humans, we need creativity like we need air to breathe. nibbly wants more because we want more. and we will never be satiated.

wiggog y’rath is the ruler and the king because he’s the self-inserting writer. I think jon matteson plays paul *and* wiggly for a reason— wiggly is the only lord in black to be played by the same actor in every single show, and that actor also plays the protagonist of tgwdlm. wiggly wants to be the protagonist. he tries to force himself into the human world of hatchetfield because he wants to participate, dammit! he wants to be the bestest ruler that the earth has ever seen! everyone has to love him because he’s going to be their bestest fwiend! when he appears in human form he’s gonna be the prom king! he’s the ebony dark’ness dementia raven way of the hatchetfield multiverse. he wants every human character to bend to his whims and to love him and to put him at the tippy-top of planet earth because he’s the writer and the writer’s main character, you fuckheads, and he can make whatever story he wants, whether the other characters like it or not! if you’ve ever written a self-insert story? congratulations! you’ve been wiggog y’rath.

and the funny thing? I don’t think the lords know that they, too, are as fictional as anyone else in hatchetfield. maybe blinky knows— he sees through the audience’s eyes, after all— but I don’t think the others do. if they did, maybe they’d be a little less tyrannical. a little bit nicer.

but then the starkid writers wouldn’t have much of a story to tell, would they?

[gods-no-longer-tread-here]

oh another little detail about Nimona that fucked me up:

I thought Bal refusing to call Nimona a monster, instead saying “You know what you are”, was him struggling with caring about her but also fearing her. After further thought, no.

It’s respectability politics.

He’s a cis, presumably gay man, who lived his whole life in the same confines as Ambrosius. The same rules, the same “don’t be Weird, don’t be Defiant, Kill Monsters On Sight”. Just because he was expelled for being accused of being the wrong kind of gay murder doesn’t mean he isn’t still chockful of “I need to be accepted by the people in power.”

Which always, always results in trying to be more straight than straight people, more cis than the cis. It’s part of why the ‘queer is a slur’ bullshit spread so far. “Monster” replaces “queer” in that scene. Bal can’t bring himself to call his friend a word that he has since learned is painful and was used to hurt her, but he still means it. He won’t let it out of his mouth, but he still means it, with the same spitting hate as everyone else.

Monster. Queer. Faggot. Dyke. Tranny.

Bal still hated That One Part Of Her. He loved Nimona, his friend and ally, but she was Monster, and just like all the “LGB without the T” fuckheads, he was scared Nimona’s transness would drag him down even further. He still wanted to assimilate, be accepted.

It’s impossible to do that. We are not different. Cis people are not “more acceptable” than trans. Gays and lesbians are not “more acceptable” than bi, pan, and ace people. We’re all monsters to the people who hate us. Stop polishing their boots with your tongue and fight.

[katsukiizmoon]

I don’t wanna be that bitch but Katsuki isn’t a bland, one sided character. He’s aggressive with a mean attitude and extremely competitive. He’s still a person though.

Basically, when writing katsuki you don’t have to make him an asshole 24/7.. you can mix things up. Give him the signs of maturity, let him mellow a little, show the side of katsuki that is tired and grumpy and affectionate.

Example :

One dimensional katsuki’s reaction to a SO hugging him from behind in the morning : growls, “get the fuck off me shithead, die!” , yanks away and walks off with an eye roll.

Multi-dimensional dazzle dazzle katsuki reaction to a SO hugging him from behind in the morning : grunt, then : “yeah yea, morning shithead. Get off’a me, got Shit to do.” Pulls away a bit, ruffles SO hair / smooch to top of head, walks off with an eye roll.

This isn’t how you’d write it like, Yunno, in the fanfiction… but it makes a difference. Sometimes I get comments on my work where katsuki shows more emotion cause he’s an angry gremlin. Remember, most angry little fuckheads experience a wide range of intense emotions.

Thank you for coming to my PSA!

P.S. this is signed with a forehead smooch to katsuki, right in the middle. My glitter gloss is making some of his hair stick to his forehead. Woops.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.

Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

You enter Mr. Hansen’s office and he’s not far behind. The slam of the door makes you jump. You whip around to face him as he storms in, brushing past you so roughly that you teeter on your feet. You’re happy you didn’t go all in and buy those heels. 

“You wanna waste me time, Critter? Huh?” He snarls as he turns and slams a fist on his desk. He winces and pulls back, shaking out his fingers. 

“No, sir, I wasn’t--” 

“You were. Look, you wanna flirt, do it on your own time. I don’t pay you to make eyes at the dweeb,” he growls. “But it’s sure as shit my damn money that got you the new gear, isn’t it?” 

“Sir, he was--” 

“Not very fucking subtle, is it? A red dress. Might as well sew a scarlet fucking letter on,” he searches around furiously and grabs something you can’t see. “How about I help you out?” 

He charges at you with a pair of scissors and you squeal. For a minute, you foresee your own murder. The gleam in his eyes assures you of your fate but he doesn’t plunge the blades into your chest. 

He grabs your skirt as he bends and snips into the fabric. You yelp and he tosses the scissors to his feet. He clutches and tears across, rending the skirt at your mid-thigh. You try to pull away but only help his destruction. He snaps the last thread and stands, whipping it at your face. 

“Show a little leg, Critter, no use in being fucking shy,” he kicks the scissors and stomps away. “Hello, now you got a little shawl to keep you warm, don’t you?” 

“Sir, I’m sorry, I... it’s just a dress.” 

“Every time I walk out of this office, I see you with the fuckhead. Just a fucking dress. You’ve been dressing like a paper bag for two years and suddenly you’re sweeping in here dressed like a goddamn cherry. You think I’m fucking stupid?" He sneers and drops into his chair. 

You stare at him as you clasp onto the strip of fabric. You look down slowly and push your legs together. You’re horrified at how much skin is on show. 

“I have to go home and change,” you utter. 

“No, you’re going to stay here and do your fucking work,” he snaps as he lifts his feet onto his desk, his chair creaking loudly. “And if that dipshit comes around you tell him to go fuck himself.” 

You blink and look at him again. You don’t understand why he’s so upset. You thought, stupidly, that he would be impressed. He always insulted your clothes and you finally took his advice. You sniff and nod. 

“Yes, sir.” 

You turn and walk to the door. The dress is ruined but you can return the rest. He clears his throat. 

“Pick up the fucking scissors,” he snarls. “You know better than to leave a mess.” 

You recoil from the door and cross to the scissors, open in the corner of the room. You bend and pick them up, not realising until you feel the air between your thighs, how short the dress really is now. You stand up sharply and scurry over to put the scissors back in their place. 

Hansen watches you, a stitch between his brows as he steeples his hands. You retreat and try to shake away his gaze. You shut the door quietly and brace yourself. You sigh as you find yourself alone. You’re not sure you could tell Jensen to go away after all of that. 

You go to your desk and sit. You tuck away the remnants of your skirt in your bag. You push your shoulders back and wake up your computer. The smell of cinnamon tickles your nose. You look down at the muffin. It doesn’t feel right now, not after Mr. Hansen ruined all the rest. 

You shove it aside and forget about it. You keep your eyes glued to the screen between getting up to print or mark the board or run off on another errand. You don’t let yourself stray from anything beyond Mr. Hansen’s demands. 

‘Coffee.’ The singular order pops up in the corner of your screen. 

You stand at once and snatch up your purse. The chance to get free of the stolid tension is enough to have you moving at double speed. You skip the elevator and take the stairs instead. You don’t take a single moment to look ahead before you dive out into the city street. 

A sheet of rain crashes down on you. Of course. Too late. You're already soaked. 

You find your beaten-up car and swing yourself into the driver seat. Frig. You’re completely drenched. Oh, and your umbrella is at your desk from the last time it rained. You sigh and try to ignore the damp clinging of fabric. 

You patiently pull out into the crawl of noontime jam. You can’t get close enough to Esther’s to avoid another slake of rain. You run inside and wait patiently for Hansen’s coffee. You ask for a double cup to keep it warm. You shield the lid as you hurry back through the downpour. 

Your spot at the office is filled as you pulled up. You park further away and bemoan another venture out into the elements. Today can’t get any worse. 

You have the coffee. That’s all that matters. You get out and sprint across the street. This time you take the elevator as your soles are too slippery to stay on the tile. 

Several looks ping off of your disheveled appearance. You ignore them like you always do. You get off on your floor and surpass your desk without missing a beat. You knock on Hansen’s door. He grunts for you to come in. He’s expecting you. He’s waiting and no matter how quick you are, it’s not fast enough. 

You stop short with a squeak of your flats as you enter. You’re unprepared for the full flash of Hansen’s bare chest. Your eyes round and you hold up the cup. You can’t breathe as you try not to stare at the thick hair across taut muscles. 

“Coffee,” you cough out and rush over to set it on the coaster.  

He casually pulls out a black polo and holds it up, “what do ya think, Critter? This make the bitch wish she’d never left me?” 

You blink and look at the wall, “um, yes, sir. I guess--” 

He isn't as mad as before. That alone puts you on edge.

“Woah, what the fuck happened to you?” He lowers the shirt, once more showing his buff torso. 

“It’s raining, sir,” you shrug, “I’ll just go dry off...” you look down at the moisture around your shoes, “and get a mop.” 

You turn with another wet squeak and he chuckles. You ignore him as you head for the door. 

“White panties and a red dress?” He clucks, “tacky.” 

You trip and stop as you feel the back of your skirt. The water has the fabric stuck to your skin and you didn’t notice in the chaos how it rode up. You pull it down and apologise under your breath as you flee. 

You should just stop hoping things won’t get worse and just expect it. 

[anonymousewrites]

Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Nine

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Nine: Going Clubbing Goes Wrong

Summary: Angel's friend Cherri shows up, and Charlie decides that sending everyone for a night on the town is the best idea while she and Vaggie go to Heaven. It isn't the best idea. Not at all.

Warning: Valentino is very much Valentino in this chapter, even towards the MC. It is only a few sentences, but please use your discretion for what you feel comfortable reading. The MC does not get touched or hurt or approached, but they do get talked to.

            “Oh, fuck,” groaned Angel as he nearly fell into the hotel. He looked thoroughly exhausted from his work. Valentino was making him work harder and longer every day, and Angel just wanted to crash and have the rest of eternity off to sleep.

            “You look messy! What happened to you?” said Niffty.

            “It’s who happened to me,” huffed Angel. “And the answer is everyone. Twice. Val had me working sixteen hours straight on a fucking whim. The absolute dick bag.”

            “He sucks,” agreed (Y/N) as Angel threw himself onto the couch next to them.

            Boom!

            The wall (the same wall as usual) exploded. Everyone jumped and stared, ready for a fight.

            “What the fuck is with that wall?!” said Angel.

            “What up, hoes?!” said an Australian voice, and a woman walked in through the hole in the hotel’s wall.

            Angel’s mood brightened. “Holy shit, Cherri Bomb?! Long time no see, baby!”

            “Angie, ya bitch!” said Cherri in a very friendly manner. (Y/N) decided they liked her energy, and since Angel actually seemed happy to see her, they determined their feeling was right. “You been texting me depressing shit all day, figured we could tear shit up like old times. It’s been fuckin’ forever!” She tossed a bomb to Charlie. “Here, hold this.”

            “Ah! Oh my God, oh my God!” said Charlie.

            “Nope, gimme that.” Vaggie took it and threw it out the hole. It exploded in the distance (thankfully).

            “I love seeing ya, Cherri,” said Angel. “But I’m too tired. I need to pass out.”

            Cherri grabbed him before he could leave. “Oho, you can sleep when you’re double-dead, fuckhead. Come on, what you really need is a recharge, a reinvigoration, a re—”

            “Responsible night on the town!” finished Charlie, smiling. “That is a great idea! Hi, I’m Charlie.” She shook Cherri’s hand. “That’s my wall that you just blew up. It’s so nice to meet one of Angel’s friends. Aagh, he never brings anyone around!”

            Cherri snorted, but it wasn’t totally unfriendly. “Wonder why?”

            “Yeah, me too!” Charlie was blissfully ignorant to the tease. “Anyway, Angel and everyone else have been working so hard. I think they deserve to have a little fun.”

            “Wait, ‘they?’ ” said Cherri.

            “Yeah! Hi, everyone!” called Charlie, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Angel and his friend are taking you all out for a night of fun and relaxation.”

            “I don’t really think it’s going to be relaxing,” said (Y/N), but they were interested. This was another experience they’d never had in their life, so they wanted to try something new in death.

            “Great,” huffed Cherri.

            “Don’t worry, Cherri,” said Angel. “They’re not so bad.” He grinned at (Y/N). “You’re gonna like the kid.”

            “Yeah, but I’m only here for yo—” Charlie shoved money into Cherri’s hands to cover everyone. “Ooh! Never mind! Let’s go! Come on, kid, I’m gonna make your first time out the best time.”

            “Wait, are we sure we should let (Y/N) go—” Vaggie’s (rightful) concern was cut off as the portal to Heaven opened up in the lobby and Charlie squealed.

            “Bye, everyone!” said Charlie, grabbing Vaggie and pulling her through. She couldn’t wait another second.

            (Y/N) grinned. “Finally, I can try drinking.”

            “I’m keeping my eye on you,” said Husk.

            He needed to for two reasons. One, he liked (Y/N) and didn’t want them getting hurt. Two, he was certain Alastor would torture him if anyone happened to (Y/N) (which was an odd thought but Husk didn’t have the energy to really think through that, he just knew it was true.)

            The portal to Heaven disappeared, and Pentious appeared in the lobby. He froze as he saw Cherri and straightened in an attempt to seem confident.

            “Well, if it isn’t my archnemesis!” he said. “Have you come to meet your fate in battle, Cherri Bomb?”

            “Apparently, I’m going out with Angel, and I got to drag your sorry asses along,” said Cherri.

            Pentious brightened and slithered up to Cherri. “Oh, so, you and me are going out back for fun?” He tugged on his bowtie nervously. “I…I didn’t think this would ever happen. What? What do I do? What do I wear?” He put his hand on Cherri’s shoulder, and she grabbed it.

            “Don’t fucking touch me, you munted dickhead,” said Cherri, walking off.

            Pentious just blushed, staring at the hand she’d touched.

            Wow, that’s a pair I didn’t expect, thought (Y/N), despite having only met Cherri two minutes ago.

            “Come on, ya fucks! We’re heading out!” announced Cherri.

            It was time for a new experience. ((Y/N) hoped they enjoyed this one. They wanted to make some good memories in their afterlife).

l

            “Woo! Isn’t this place the fucking best?” cheered Cherri at the bar of the club.

            (Y/N) stared at the drink in their hand and downed it. They had discovered they liked the alcohol in Hell and decided a little indulgence couldn’t hurt. (Not too much, though. They could feel a headache coming on, and the last thing they needed was to hurt their poor roses. That being said, doing something that would have made them angry made (Y/N) happy). And, hey, they were with friends, so it couldn’t be too bad. Right?

            “I’ll admit, ‘Consent’ is a good name for a sex club,” said Husk.

            Never mind, they brought me to a sex club. (Y/N) sighed. Whatever. I’ll just stay over here.

            “Niffty, dear, what are you doing?” said Pentious, staring at Niffty as she swept the nightclub floor.

            “I’m sweeping. Ugh, look how icky it is in here,” complained Niffty.

            “That’s because we’re at a club, dear,” pointed at Pentious, not unkindly.

            “Oh! I thought the hotel looked different,” said Niffty, looking around properly.

            Pentious cleared his throat and looked at Cherri. Again, he attempted to seem cool. “Ms. Bomb, I-I’d like to buy you a drink,” he stammered.

            “Why?” Cherri grinned. “Didn’t you say we’re arch-rivals?”

            “Um…uh…because I’m buying everyone a drink!” A terrible excuse, but it worked.

            Everyone in the club cheered and rushed up to the bar.

            “Thanks, Sir Pentious!” said (Y/N).

            “Are you seriously into this, kid?” said Husk, raising a brow.

            “This tastes good,” said (Y/N), lifting their refilled glass.

            Husk sighed. “Vaggie and Charlie are gonna hate this.”

            “I did worse with the loan sharks,” they chirped.

            Husk gave another, long-suffering sigh.

            “I need a drink after today,” said Angel, sitting down beside them all tiredly. “You know, Val, he’s into this waterboarding shit now, I don’t know, it’s a kink.”

            “Sounds like torture,” said (Y/N).

            “It’s exhausting,” agreed Angel.

            “No, I meant literally.”

            “Angel, enough with the Val talk. He already ruined your day,” said Cherri. She squeezed Angel’s shoulder. “Don’t let him ruin your night, too.” She pulled out a few pills from her pocket. “Here, take one of these and you won’t be worrying about nothin’.”

            (Y/N) frowned. They weren’t certain that was the answer.

            “Here we go,” murmured Husk, rolling his eyes.

            “Oh, look, the drunk and the kid are judging us,” huffed Cherri.

            “I ain’t the one trying to get into Heaven,” said Husk. He looked at Angel. “Look, you want to fuck up all your progress? Be my guest.” He huffed, and his ears flattened.

            “I just don’t want you to feel worse about yourself after you come down,” said (Y/N). They knew Cherri was just doing what Cherri thought Angel wanted, but they wanted to make sure Angel was alright.

            “Buzzkills,” said Cherri. “Come on, Angie, let’s get fucked up! It’s been too long.”

            “I, uh, I don’t know.” Angel didn’t want to disappoint Husk or any of his other friends. And…they had a point. “It’s been a long night, and I don’t need to go too wild.”

            Husk smiled, not a little proudly, and took a sip of his drink. He kept an eye on (Y/N) in case they started having too much. He was a hopeless alcoholic, but he wasn’t letting the kid spiral into that.

            “Come on, bitch,” said Cherri encouragingly. “If you’ve really been working that hard, you deserve a little R and R, and some THC, or maybe PCP with DMT. Aw, fuck it, let’s see where the night takes us, huh?”

            “I…I guess,” said Angel, shrugging noncommittedly.

            “Cherri, I bought you a shot!” said Pentious, having finally gotten to paying for her.

            Cherri frowned at him, and Pentious panicked.

            “B-Because I bought everyone another shot! Hooray!” said Pentious.

            Angel downed a shot. “Aah…fuck it! Let’s do it!” He grinned at Cherri.

            Husk rolled his eyes. Suddenly, this night wasn’t that fun to him.

            Or (Y/N). “Be careful, Angel.”

            “He’s done it before!” said Cherri optimistically.

            “Yeah, that’s why I’m saying it,” muttered (Y/N), watching as Cherri and Angel grabbed another drink.

            The drinks kept rolling. ((Y/N) had decided to stop as soon as Cherri and Angel got going in case they needed help with anything. Yeah, pissing off the spirits of the dead…people-(Y/N)-didn’t-like-to think-about was great and all by drinking, but they weren’t going to just let their friends wander around).

            “Round twelve, motherfuckers!” cheered Cherri. “Heels are comin’ off!”

            “Oh, yeah, keep ‘em comin’!” said Angel. “Come on, right here, right to daddy!”

            “Oh, it’s wonderful to have friends!” said Pentious, laughing wildly (he was drunk, but he was still drinking to keep up and impress Cherri).

            “Everything’s spinny,” said Niffty, grinning as she tried to reach for another shot.

            “Ha, I think you’re done, tiny,” said Angel, lifting the shot away from her.

            “No! Gimme, gimme, gimme!” she pouted.

            “Oh, come on, bitch, she can handle a little more,” said Cherri.

            “She’s ten pounds and tiny,” said (Y/N). “And we don’t need her any more unhinged than normal.”

            “Shit, where’d she go?” said Angel, looking around. Niffty had made a run for it.

            “I’ll help you find her,” said (Y/N), standing. Husk could look after Pentious.

            It didn’t take a moment to spot Niffty, cleaning the nightclub by collecting everyone’s drinks in a garbage bag. The patrons were not pleased with it and growing restless.

            “Dirty, dirty, make it clean!” she said maniacally.

            “Dammit, Niffty,” said Angel.

            (Y/N) picked Niffty up before she could do more while Angel tried to placate the angry men.

            “Sorry, fellas, here, next one’s on me.” He put money down on the table and smiled while they began to fight.

            “Shit, Niffty, stop—Damn!” Niffty, seeing a supply closet, had squirmed out of (Y/N)’s hold and ran for the cleaning supplies within.

            “Shit, shit,” cursed Angel.

            “Angie, the fuck are you doin’?” asked Cherri, stepping in front while Niffty collected bleach and chlorine behind her. “You’re supposed to be relaxing, not playing nanny. Roses over here seem to has that down.”

            (Y/N) gave her the middle finger (playfully) while trying to keep an eye on Niffty.

            “Look, neither of ‘em are used to this scene,” said Angel. “I just don’t want ‘em to end up in the gutter like I used to.”

            (Y/N) looked at Angel. That was surprisingly heartfelt for him. Yes, he was always deep down a good person, but he usually hid it behind his hypersexuality and acting. This was actual care and honesty. (Y/N) nearly smiled. It was heartwarming and one of the reasons they really liked Angel.

            Not completely getting the idea, Cherri shrugged. “Whatever, nerd. Just catch up when you’re done.” She walked away.

            Angel grabbed Niffty from the supply closet. “Stop, you can’t take that.”

            (Y/N) put the chlorine and bleach away. “It’s not ours.” And you might poison people to clean them.

            Stressed and frustrated, Angel huffed. “God, Niff, why are you bein’ such a mess?”

            Niffty’s eyes widened. “I’m the mess?”

            “Oh, dear,” said (Y/N).

            Niffty wailed, and tears poured from her eye.

            “Oh, oh, shit!” said Angel, realizing he’d messed up. “Hey, hey, hey, calm down.”

            “You’re not a mess, Niffty,” said (Y/N), reaching up as best they could to pat Niffty’s back. “We’re all just being, uh, silly right now.”

            “Right, right,” said Angel, nodding furiously. “You’re not a mess. It’s fine, sssh. You, uh, wanna play with the kitty?” He hugged her, and (Y/N) patted her back.

            Niffty’s sobs subsided, and she hiccupped. “Yeah.”

            Angel and (Y/N) didn’t waste time putting Niffty back with Husk. She sat on his head, petting his fur, and Husk stared up.

            “The fuck is this?” said Husk.

            “She’s wasted,” said Angel, sighing.

            “Just go with it unless you want her to start crying or pouring bleach drinks for you,” said (Y/N) cheerfully.

            Husk huffed. “Fine, fine, whatever.” It wasn’t like he could stop Niffty now, and no one really wanted to see what angering her could do.

            “Aaah…” Pentious fell over from his…well, he’d lost count, but somewhere near his twentieth shot. “Hey, wow.” He looked at Cherri, hauled himself up, and slithered over to her.

            “Oh, boy, he’s got his confidence again,” said (Y/N). “Wonder what’ll go wrong this time.”

            “Maybe nothing will,” said Husk.

            He and (Y/N) exchanged a look and nearly burst out laughing. They both knew that poor Pentious was still too insecure to fully follow through if Cherri questioned anything.

            “Hey, so…I see the club has a sex room,” said Pentious. “So, I was thinking, maybe you’d want to, uhm…do a sex with me?”

            “Yikes, points for confidence, but minus several hundred for style,” said (Y/N).

            “I’m sorry, why would we have sex?” said Cherri, smirking.

            “Uh, uh, uhm…” Pentious shifted nervously.

            “Here it comes,” said Husk.

            “Because I’m having sex with everyone here!” declared Pentious.

            “Wow, he’s really crashing and burning on this one,” said (Y/N), almost impressed by Pentious’s ability to get himself into trouble (everyone was cheering and far too excited for Pentious to be free for quite a while). Sure enough, several people grabbed Pentious, and he was carried away for a long night into one of the sex rooms.

            Cherri laughed and walked back to the group. “You know, we can do this fucking shit every fucking night, Angie. You don’t have to spend all your off hours ‘working on yourself,’ you little bitch.”

            “The hotel isn’t his problem,” said Husk, holding Niffty over his shoulder. “It’s—”

            “Valentino,” said Angel angrily.

            “Exactly,” said Husk, and (Y/N) nodded fervently.

            “Yeah, that guy is a piece of shit,” said (Y/N).

            “No,” said Angel. He pointed to a side lounge. “Valentino.”

            The moth was demon was there, in the club. He lay back on a couch, two demons curled up next to him as he smoked and crooned proudly about himself. He smirked, clearly at home and in control at the club.

            (Y/N) had seen pictures of him (unfortunately) around Hell, but seeing him in person made them dislike him all the more. He reminded them of the men they’d seen on Earth who only looked at others as pawns, as objects to be used and thrown away. Disgusted, (Y/N) narrowed their eyes.

            “Yeah, I come here all the time. They know me,” said Valentino to the two demons currently with him. He smirked at one. “You’re gorgeous. Do you need a job? How many dicks can you suck? I could make you a star.”

            Angel shivered as Valentino spoke and looked at his friends. “Let’s get the fuck outta here. Ok, ok.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Niffty’s gone.”

            Husk looked at his shoulder, and sure enough, the bug demon had disappeared. “Well, fuck.”

            “Shit, Niffty,” cursed (Y/N), spotting her running towards the lounge Valentino was sitting in.

            They moved as fast as they could, grabbing Niffty before she could get too close. Unfortunately (but when was the hotel’s luck ever good?), a clubber dancing bumped into (Y/N), and they and Niffty fell forward into the empty space in front of Valentino’s lounge.

            “Fuck, fuck!” Angel reached down and grabbed (Y/N) and Niffty, but it was too late, and Valentino had noticed him.

            “Holy shit, Angel Dust?” said Valentino. “What are you doing here, baby? You didn’t get enough dick today?”

            (Y/N) was disgusted just by his voice, and when Angel held Niffty behind him and pushed (Y/N) back with his other pair of arms, they didn’t resist at all.

            Valentino leaned forward, leering down at Angel, Niffty, and (Y/N). “Who are these chiquitas? You bringing me fresh meat?”

            (Y/N) felt bile rise in their throat, and they inched farther behind Angel.

            Niffty, instead, tried to lunge and bite Valentino, who instantly jerked back. “I just want a taste,” she said, grinning.

            “Eh, weird, but there’s a kink for that, I’m sure,” said Valentino. He tilted his head and regarded (Y/N) next, and they fought back a shudder, refusing to show weakness in front of him. “And that one looks sweet. I know a ton of clients with a thing for that~. A little young, but after a little time in Hell, eh, they’re close enough~”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and their stomach twisted uncomfortably at the implications of that statement. Angel protectively pushed them back, stood up, and glared at Valentino.

            “Fuck off, Val,” he snapped.

            “Excuse me?” said Valentino, narrowing his eyes.

            “I said fuck off!” shouted Angel.

            The club went silent, and everyone stared in shock at Angel.

            “I may have to put up with your bullshit, but you ain’t fucking with any of my friends!” said Angel, hands curled into fists.

            Valentino stood, towering over everyone. “You forget who you’re talking to?” He waved his cigarette, and the smoke collected into a chain. It wrapped around Angel’s wrist and pulled him to Valentino. “I own you!”

            Angel’s face fell, but his anger welled up again, and he glared, refusing to back down. “Yeah, you do, in the studio, and you can do anything you want to me there, just like our deal says. But out here, I get to do what I want. So once again, fuck off!”

            Valentino raised his hand and swung at Angel.

            Snap!

            A briar wrapped around Valentino’s wrist. The thorns sunk into his skin, and he gritted his teeth at the sudden pain. His eyes narrowed, and he looked at where the vine came from. Everyone was silent and turned their gaze on (Y/N), whose hand was lifted. They had summoned the vine.

            “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” hissed Valentino, and the hotel gang’s eyes widened as (Y/N) was faced with Valentino’s complete fury.

            “Telling you to fuck off like Angel did,” said (Y/N), refusing to cower.

            Valentino’s eyes seemed to glow in the dim lights of the club. “You’re making quite the enemy, you fucking brat.”

            “I certainly don’t want you as a friend,” sneered (Y/N), letting the vine tighten around Valentino’s wrist.

            Valentino gritted his teeth and ripped it away with another hand. Standing at his full height, he glared at Angel. “Enjoy your night, bitch. I’m going to enjoy making you pay for it tomorrow.” He looked back at (Y/N). “And you…You better be watch your fucking back. You’re going to pay for that.” He turned, and his red wings/cloak swept around with him as he went back to his lounge, fuming.

            “Fucking dickhead,” muttered Cherri.

            “Fucking hell, kid, if he hadn’t been at the club and not been able to risk destroying it, he could’ve tried to kill you,” said Husk, looking at (Y/N).

            They crossed their arms. “I wasn’t going to let him hurt Angel. Not when he’s here with us. Plus he made me feel fucking gross.”

            Angel looked at (Y/N). “He deserved it. Only wish I could’ve been the one to hurt him.” And he wished he could’ve kept Valentino from speaking like that about (Y/N), but he knew (Y/N) had already seen that.

            “Maybe one day you will,” said (Y/N).

            “I hope so,” said Angel. His shoulders heaved as the adrenaline ran out. “Let’s go.”

            Husk patted his back. “Proud of you.”

            Angel smiled. “Thanks.”

            “And you, too, kid, even if it was fucking stupid,” said Husk. “Valentino has got a lot of pull.”

            “I’ve lived under enough people’s thumbs,” said (Y/N), their gaze darkening. “I’m not doing it anymore.”

            Angel and Husk exchanged a look but decided not to ask (Y/N) what that meant. They looked upset enough.

l

            “What have you done to Niffty?” said Alastor as the group returned to the hotel. He was grinning at all of their appearances.

            Niffty was holding her head as Husk carried her, Angel Dust was ready to pass out at this point, Pentious was miserable since he hadn’t gotten a chance to “do the sex” with Cherri, and (Y/N)’s anger had worn off to disgust at their experience with Valentino.

            “She drank too much,” said Angel, throwing himself down on the couch. “Don’t wake me. I’m sleeping here forever.”

            “Move over,” said Husk, putting Niffty down to rest.

            “My, my, I thought Charlie had instructed you to have a good time,” tutted Alastor in amusement.

            “We did until Valentino showed up,” groaned Angel. “The dick tried to get Niffty and (Y/N) to work for him.”

            Husk shivered as Alastor’s grin widened but turned sharp and deadly.

            “Did he now?” said Alastor.

            “And then the creep tried to hit Angel!” said (Y/N) angrily.

            “And the kid stupidly made Valentino angry by hurting him with their thorns,” said Husk. “He threatened them.” Husk was proud of them for interceding when Angel had nearly gotten hurt, but he was worried about what Valentino would do now that he knew their face and disliked them.

            “He deserved it,” said (Y/N) sourly.

            “Hell yeah,” said Angel. “He was being a fucking creep.” His friends were off limits, and (Y/N) was seventeen. Not eighteen. Not an adult. Nothing like that. Valentino was a fucking monster.

            “Well, if you have any further trouble with that lecherous demon, I’m sure a quick conversation with me will put an end to it,” said Alastor, his grin dangerously wide even as he tapped (Y/N) on the forehead with his staff with more fondness than any of the demons present were familiar with him expressing.

            “I hope I never see him again,” grumbled (Y/N), completely oblivious to how protective Alastor’s words were.

            The Radio Demon, however, was. Ah, well. It was the truth. He wouldn’t have such a disgusting demon getting near his protégé.

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[gay-dorito-dust]

this isnt thag detailed but can i request percy jackson x reader (platonic) where they first meet (as well as with annabeth since she was with him at the time I think) for the first time in the labyrinth and turns out reader is percy’s older half sibling? if not that, then just maybe general headcanons of percy having an older half sibling

I’ll probs just do the head-cannon for this one. 🦦

The moment Percy found out that you were his half sibling, the relief that came with no longer having to have an entire cabin with the low grey walls to himself would follow.

As it would ultimately meant he was finally freed from soul crushing loneliness he’s felt ever since being claimed after beginning to get use to the warmth and liveliness of that of the Hermes Cabin.

Seeing those empty bunks taunted and mocked him every waking moment, serving as a reminder that no matter how powerful of a Demi-god you were, you were no more helpless against the grim reality of being a forbidden child of the most powerful gods of the Greek pantheon.

However with this revelation came the urge to protect his newfound family and with that came moments of tension, especially the ones where Percy tended to forget that you were capable -if not more- in taking care of yourself when it mattered most, seeing as Percy had a tendency to put himself at the forefront of danger if it meant protecting the people who mattered so dearly to him; You being one of those very people he’d gladly act in reckless abandon in favour for your safety.

You hated this about him as no matter how long you’ve met him for, you weren’t going to stand by and willingly let your little brother place himself in dangerous situations for you.

Loyalty maybe his fatal flaw, your fatal flaw on the other hand was devotion.

Devotion to your family, your friends and loved ones, so much so to the point when you’d sacrifice everything for them, even if it was to your own detriment and eventual downfall, as long as they were safe and happy nothing else mattered.

Percy would go to war for you and you would happily go to war for him tenfold.

You; don’t do anything stupid till I get back.

Percy: how can I? you’re taking all the stupid with you.

You: jerk

Percy: bitch

If you were to ever have a crush on someone or someone starts making moves on you, fucking watch out cuz little bro Percy had a few choice words for ‘em and is hellbent on knowing their intentions with his older sibling. You deserve the best but in Percy’s eyes, not many people make the final cut.

However his interrogations were equal parts hilarious and embarrassing for you for multiple reasons but after the first few times you’ve told him off for doing so, you’ve given up and just let him act as though his words would sway anything into his favour, you could always just sneak out and meet them elsewhere; preferably away from any body of water but primarily the lake where you knew Percy and yourself would often frequent when in need of feeling closer to the one thing connecting you to your father.

But on this occasion, you severely underestimated your little brother.

You; Percy get out of the lake, people are begging to stare.

Percy: not until the sibling stealer behind you stops flirting. *he says whilst standing knee deep in the canoe lake, ready to super soak someone to the bone.*

You, groaning as you looked over at Luke who looked about ready to use you as a shield again your own brother, sending him an apologetic smile; I’m sorry about my IDIOTIC BROTHER, he tends to severely overreact, especially over the little things.

Percy, hands on his hips, staring at Luke murderously: who are you talking about, I don’t overreact. I just want to talk to him. Here. in the water. Where I have full dominion over.

You: I have full dominion over the water too fuckhead and like hell I’d let you interrogate him.

Percy, whilst still looking at Luke before walking off to find Grover and or Annabeth; you’re lucky enough to live another day.

Much like any sibling dynamic you take the piss out of each other but the moment someone else thinks it’s cool to do so also, it’s game over for them as an temporary alliance between you two is formed to defeat a common enemy before going back to taking the piss out of one another as per usual.

You: you’re such a sore looser fish breath

Percy: says you coral for brains

Some random camper; yeah, coral for brains.

You and Percy looking at the random camper; the fuck did you just say? Would you care to repeat or start running.

Random camper; *sweats and runs away as though they’ve just shit themselves.*

I think I’ve went on long enough but all in all, Percy was just ecstatic that he wasn’t alone anymore.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

"Keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up." 😉- honestly any Charlie character that inspires you (Please &Thank you💞)

Thank you, love for sending a request! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Raymond Smith x Female Reader

Warnings: 18 + only for language, explicit smut, bondage.

"Keep your hands where they are, or I'll tie them up," you freeze, your hand resting on the butt of your gun.

Michael Pearson looks between the two of you and chuckles giving you a wink, "I'd listen to him sweetheart, unless you're into that kind of thing."

You hold eyes with Raymond Smith as the two kingpins argue over pennies before reaching out for a handshake. "I look forward to working with you Pearson," your boss tugs on his coat, "we're both going to get incredibly rich."

He makes for the door and you go to follow when he stops turning and raising a hand, "not you sweetheart."

"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"Weren't you listening to the deal?" he laughs, breathing a cloud of smoke into your face. "You're staying to join Pearson's crew, under his second," he points a fat finger to the figure behind you.

You turn, reaching for your gun on instinct when Raymond Smith grabs your wrist and tuts, "now, now, what did I say would happen if you tried to pull a gun on me?"

"Let go of me," you growl, hearing the door click behind you. He releases your wrist and you hold it to your chest, "what are you going to do to me?"

“Whatever you’d like me too,” his smile is dark and you feel your panties dampen.

“What if I don’t want you to do anything?”

He smiles, “then I’ll leave you be.” He hesitates, “but we both know that’s not true is it darling?” He steps closer, invading your space, he smells like leather and expensive whiskey, and you feel a little drunk sharing the same air with him.

"What do you want with me?" He cocks a brow and presses you completely into the wall, caging his body with yours. You can feel every part of him, every part. "Oh," you whisper, feeling him hard against your belly.

"I've been watching your work for some time," he gestures to the door behind you with a flick of his head, "that fuckhead didn't deserve you. Didn't even realize what he had."

"And you do?" you challenge pressing so close to him, space ceases to exist. His smile is the only answer as he leans closer, pressing his lips to your own, instantly opening his mouth to tangle with your own. The smoke lingers on his tongue and you moan, collapsing back against the wall and pulling on the lapels of his coat. He follows, leaning into you and kissing you with a passionate combination of tongue and teeth. It's animalistic and you want more.

"If you're going to fuck my new employee could you wait for me to get out of the room?" Mickey Pearson interrupts, taking a final sip from his glass of brandy.

"Sure thing boss," Ray pants, "we were just leaving."

"We were?" you ask, breathless.

"Yes," he grabs your hand almost dragging you from the room and towards his SUV. He opens the passenger door, putting you into the seat, and buckling you in, making sure to touch every inch of you he can reach.

"Don't forget we have that meeting in forty minutes," Michael shouts from the doorway leaning against it and watching you with a smile. "Welcome to the team, sweetheart."

Ray frowns mumbling to himself before taking off, his hand on your thigh, rubbing your clit through the fabric of your pants. "We don't have a lot of time," he mumbles, turning off the main road towards the woods on the property.

"Where are we going?" You unbuckle your pants, desperate to have his skin on yours. You shimmy them down your legs, smiling when he curses and frantically looks between your exposed cunt and the road.

"Somewhere with a little more privacy," he pulls into an alcove of trees and gets out, slamming the door behind him. He opens the trunk, tugging something out and your mouth goes dry when you see the rope. He glances up to see your blank expression and winks, "what did I tell you, darling?" He lifts one finger and gestures for you to come, and with shaky hands you open the door, shoving your pants further down your legs until they pool on the floor, your shoes following.

He comes around the side of the SUV and stops, eyeing you from top to bottom. Holding your gaze he unbuckles his belt, licking his lips as you shove off your top and stand before him naked. He pushes down his pants, freeing his cock and pumping it. "In the back," he orders, reaching a hand out for you to follow.

You grasp his hand, gasping when he tugs you to stand beside him, his hand moving down to grasp your ass and giving it a sharp slap. "Sit," he orders, and you do, "arms behind your back." In seconds he's got your hands tied behind your back and your feet tied together in the back of the SUV, standing back and admiring his work as he continues to pump his cock.

"That's a site," he groans, reaching for you and pulling you to the edge of the SUV, your whole ass out for anyone to see. "I'm going to fuck this pretty pussy," he tells you, running his finger along your slit, "and from how wet you are, I think you like that idea. Tell me," he leans closer, "tell me you want me to fuck this pretty pussy."

"Please," you clench tightly when he slides a finger inside, slowly pulling it back before inserting it again, "please," you rock your hips but he puts a hand on your hip stilling you. He looks at you expectantly, "please fuck me," the word ends on a gasp as he slides his cock inside you.

Each thrust is sharp and calculated like all the things in his life, and you are gasping, twisting against the restraints for more. "Desperate little thing, aren't you?" he taunts, "you want me to fuck you harder? Is that what you need?"

"Please," drool dribbles down your chin when he grabs both your arms and tugs them back, pounding into you. You scream with each precise piston of his hips, feeling his cock in your cervix with how deep he is. Deep and thick he fills you so fucking good, and when he releases on arm to rub quick circles on clit, you're a fucking goner.

"Ray," you moan brokenly, knowing this is it, no one on the planet could fuck you as good as Raymond Smith. He doesn't stop, allowing the tension and pressure to swell again and again until you're cumming again so hard, you swear you blacked out for a minute.

"Shit," he groans, pulling out at the last second and turning you over, arm still tied behind your back, it pushes your torso up and your tits bounce with the force as he spills himself all over you. He's breathing loudly, running his fingers through his cum and smearing it all over you. "Mine," he growls, pushing his glasses up with his middle finger.

He writes his name in the cum, smiling down and leaning forward to leave a soft kiss on your lips. "Are you okay?" he asks quietly, grabbing a hunting knife strapped to the wall and turning you gently to cut through the ropes. You're shivering, and you pull your hands to your chest to rub where the ropes burned. "Love?" he asks, taking your wrist and rubbing over them.

"I'm okay," you clear your throat, "more than okay. That was fucking fantastic." A smile splits across his face and he chuckles, running his cum stained finger over your cheek.

"Welcome to the crew."

"Do all of you, give such a warm welcome?" you chuckle, seeing his brow furrow and tighten a little line appearing between his eyes.

"No," he shakes his head firmly, "that is saved specifically for me."

"You tie up and fuck all the new recruits?" you tease, "that big bloke from back at the house, Bunny I think...he must have really fucking hurt your asshole."

"You're a little shit," he smiles, laughing and tickling your sides. Until you're both in a fit of laughter. "Just for the record, I don't usually fuck any of the crew, or anyone period."

He sits up, grabbing his clothes from the neatly folded pile beside you and gets dressed. "Ray," you ask, holding his jacket around your bare arms, and he pauses to look at you, "why me?"

He finishes tying his tie, checking the time on his watch and pulling the jacket further around your shoulders, "because, I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Because when I threatened you, you didn't back down. You're strong, confident, and after this meeting with Michael, I'd really like to take you out for dinner."

You pretend to contemplate his offer for just a moment before nodding, "Dinner sounds nice," you smirk, "as long as it's followed up by some dessert."

"Oh love," he sticks his fingers in your mouth, his cum salty on your tongue, "dessert is always the best course."

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— KEEP THE LIGHTS ON

SUMMARY : using ice to match the cold weather of December, contrasting the heat of the love and praise poured into Dean. 

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, oral sex (m. receiving), handjob, dean wearing panties, praise kink, cock worship, ice play

WORD COUNT : 2.6k

A/N : close your eyes song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — ice play and cock worship. this was new and fun, heheh XXX

“Do they feel nice?” She asked, smiling down at him as he flushed and squirmed. He bit his lip and stared up at her through his lashes, his green eyes bright and wide, shimmering with lust. My God, he was so beautiful. 

“Yes,” he answered bashfully. 

“Calvin Klein, they’re so soft,” she grinned, leaning over him to kiss his nose. He scrunched it up cutely and gently lifted his hands to her hips. “And you thought I’d make fun of you,” she commented, shaking her head with a little smile. 

“I should buy more of these for you, then?” He asked, looking down at her half naked body. He was trying to change the subject, but she let him. She sat up and looked down at herself, hands on her breasts, she felt the soft cotton of her peach coloured bra beneath her fingertips and then nodded.

“Makes me feel pretty.” Then, she smiled wider at him and placed her hands on his bare chest. “Makes you look even prettier.” He rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were bright red, up to the tips of his ears, all the way down to the base of his neck. 

“I shouldn’t have told you this…” he trailed off, drawing circles on her hip bones with the pads of his thumbs. 

“What?” She asked dramatically, leaning forward to peck his lips. “Why not? I love you.” He kissed her automatically, keeping her flower-flavoured lips close to his. 

“Okay, yeah, I’ll give ya that,” he chuckled, sliding his hands slowly up her back, pressing her down against his body. “I’m just…” he trailed off, playing with the clasp of her bra. 

“Embarrassed by what people might think or say?” She finished for him, trailing her lips across his jaw, nibbling despite the tickling stubble. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, closing his eyes as she kissed up to his pulse point. Sucking softly, he moaned, bending his knees and rolling his up against her wet core. The sheer, pale-purple panties he wore rubbing so deliciously against the cotton of her peach underwear. 

“Well, I’m not them and they’re not here,” she told him, sitting up and sliding off his lap. “I’m gonna have to pull your panties to the side and show you that it doesn’t matter what any fuckhead thinks,” she said playfully, sliding her hands lovingly down his sides.

He laughed out loud, throwing his head back in the pillows, body shaking with laughter. She smiled down at him and laughed quietly, patiently waiting for him to come to a stop.

“I love you,” he murmured breathlessly. “Whatever it is that I show you, you just… don’t change.” 

“Why would I?” She tilted her head, reaching into a metallic bowl with melted ice. He craned his neck upwards to watch her, biting his lip as water dripped down her hands, her fingers turning red from the coldness of the ice cubes. She popped one cube into her mouth, sucking softly as he watched, swallowing as a droplet slipped down her wrist to her elbow. 

“I dunno,” he shrugged dumbly. His eyes flickered back up to her face. She stared back at him lovingly and leaned down to deposit the now-small ice cube on his stomach from her warm mouth. He inhaled softly, watching as she licked his flushed skin and pushed the ice cube with her tongue. 

She left it between his pecs and leaned upwards to kiss his neck mischievously. He shivered and squirmed, reaching upwards to clench a hand in her hair. Cold lips sucked again at the pink mark on his neck, her tongue just as cool moving back and forth against his warm skin. He moaned deeply and tugged her hair, needily guiding her cold mouth to his.

He sucked her tongue when their already parted lips met, the cold velvet of her mouth against his feverish tongue. Dean licked into her with furrowed brows, focused on tasting every inch of her—wet and lewd lips moving with hers. 

She pressed against him hard, smoothing her icy fingers up his chest. She found the ice cube again and brought them over to one of his nipples. He retracted his tongue from her mouth, gasping against her lips, but she continued to kiss him with just as much passion as he started with. 

Out of breath, he tugged her hair again, pulling her away from his lips. She allowed him to move her away and took the same ice cube from his chest, holding it to his lips. He opened his mouth so she could drop it inside and let it dissolve in his hot mouth.

“You’re so cute,” she whispered playfully, reaching up for a new ice cube. She let the cold water fall on his stomach, a little pool of liquid forming between the faint lines of his toned stomach. The water slid down his sides, onto the sheets, and tickled his skin. “Mmm, so hot,” she murmured, holding the ice tightly in one hand while she reached down to the silky panties she got him to wear.

She placed the ice cube above his belly button and his skin prickled, bumps growing on his skin so his hair stood on ends, the shiver running up his spine to his head. She rubbed her warm hand over the underwear, stroking his erect cock slowly, torturously brushing her thumb over the tip as precum dampened the sheer material. 

He fisted the sheets, breathlessly giving her control over his pleasure. She wrapped her lips around the melting ice cube resting on his stomach and released it again to kiss her way down to his pelvis with frosty lips. She mouthed over his cock, humming softly against him as he rolled his hips upwards, lips parted and brows pinched together. 

“You’re so hard, baby,” she moaned, pulling the panties he wore to the side to pull his dick out with cold fingers. With a sharp intake of breath, his eyes snapped open, meeting the smug face of his girlfriend between his legs. She blew warm air over the tip dripping precum, watching it twitch as it stood erect. “So pretty, just like the rest of you,” she smiled up at him. 

He cursed softly, biting his lip hard as she leaned forward and swirled her cold tongue around the tip and then flat up the slit. His precum against her tastebuds made her mouth water. 

“Mmm, better than cookies,” she hummed softly, licking the soft tip one last time for emphasis on how good he tasted. Her fingertips teased upwards along the shaft as she planted a kiss on the tip, then followed the same path of her fingers on the other side with her lips. 

She kissed her way back down and wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing gently. Dean whined softly, breathing heavily now, chest rising and falling quickly while she licked the underside starting from where her hand was, up to the head. She flicked her tongue along the frenulum in soft and quick strokes. He was quick to clench his hand upwards into the pillow beneath his head, a loud moan slipping from his lips. 

She moaned softly in response to his voice, tracing the veins along his cock slowly with the tip of her tongue. Heat flooded his body and his thighs twitched as she continued to tease his hard cock with her tongue and lips. 

“Please,” he begged, staring down at her with pleading eyes. She bit her lip and laughed softly. 

“No, I wanna take my time.” She slowly moved her fist up his cock and reached over with her other hand for another ice cube. He groaned out a laugh and then whined, grasping her hips bruisingly. “Don’t you like this? I sure do, you feel amazing,” she smirked, bringing the dripping ice cube to the tip of his cock. 

Dean hissed and jerked, so she pulled back, watching him closely. 

“Fuck… That’s new,” he murmured, leaning up on his elbow to watch her hand gently stroke up and down his saliva-coated cock. 

“Good ‘new’?” She asked, then chewed on her lip, scooting closer so his thighs rested above hers. 

Dean nodded, smiling adorably. She smiled down at him and laughed, dripping cold, melted water over cock as she brought her hand up and down his cock faster. Dean moaned softly and closed his eyes, his head falling back lazily. 

“You’re so hard,” she hummed thoughtfully, but she looked more fascinated than confused. He opened his eyes to gaze at her, flustered as she licked her lips with her eyes glued to his cock—the same way she stares at her favourite desserts after he asked if she wanted some and she told him no.

“And what about it?” He sassed as he gazed up at her through those pretty lashes of his. Her brows furrowed and she looked up at him, eyes narrowed at his tone.  

“And it’s really damn hot and you’re making me so goddamned wet,” she sassed back, then brought the ice into her other hand to slowly jerk him off with it. 

“Oh, fuck!” He shouted, his body falling back into the bed as his elbow shook beneath him. He locked his claves behind her thighs, bringing her closer and keeping her in place. 

“You’re so hot, baby,” she whispered, amusement creeping up her aroused face. She reached down to cup his balls with her free hand, cold skin meeting his warmth, making his gasp in surprise.

“You’re mean,” he complained, looking at her lazily. 

“But… you like it,” she told him, raising a brow, “you’re so turned on, look at you, squirming and throbbing, hot and heavy in my hand. God, I wanna have you in my mouth so bad, my mouth is watering just imagining the taste of your fucking delicious cock and cum.” She licked her lip and abandoned his balls to reach into the bowl for another ice cube. “I want to feel you inside me.” She let the ice cube hover over the base of his cock, freezing water droplets falling and dripping over his balls. He inhaled sharply, his teeth digging into his pink lips. “I want your beautiful cock to touch me deep inside in ways my fingers never can, bringing me closer and closer to pleasure, leaving me so pathetically wet and swollen, the way only you can make me,” she murmured, staring straight into his gorgeous green eyes. Then, she brought the ice cube down to his perineum, drawing out a long, deep growl that vibrated arousingly through his body. “Until I cum real damn hard I nearly pass out from how good you make me feel and soak you with my orgasm.” His eyes darkened and he pressed against the back of her thighs with his calves so she’d fall into his chest. 

He cupped her jaw and brought her in for a heated kiss, his tongue hungrily separating her soft lips to enter her mouth. She smiled into the kiss and released his cock. Wet, wintry hands moved up his body while his warm ones moved to her back, his adept fingers unclasping her bra. 

She brushed her cold fingertips over one of his nipples and used the ice cube to teasingly circle the other. He moaned into her mouth, pulling away to breath against her wet lips, but he kept her in place with his fingers tangled in her hair. His free hand dragged the straps of her bra all the way off, forcing her hands away from his chest as he shuddered from the cold.

“What do you want?” She whispered, throwing her bra carelessly to the side and lifted the ice to smear the melting water over his mouth. “I want to make you feel good, Dean, tell me how you want it. My hands, my mouth, my pussy…” She suggested, dipping her fingers into his mouth, ice and all. He released her hair and dropped his hands to her waist, cold fingers making her shudder. “Should I decide for you?” She asked teasingly, watching his tempting mouth as he sucked her fingers and the ice. “I wanna taste you so bad, wanna feel how good you feel in my mouth. But… I also wanna keep touching you and watch your cum drip over my fingers. But, there’s also having you inside me, the stretch of your cock, feeling the way it touches places inside me that drive me insane…”

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, mouth stuffed with her two fingers and the ice cube. 

“I love everything about your cock,” she murmured, pulling her fingers out of his mouth. While he finished off the ice cube, she reached down into her underwear and teased her swollen clit with her cool, soaked fingers. She bit her lip as she watched him, her eyes heavy with lust, brows furrowed in concentration. 

Once the ice melted in his mouth completely, he took advantage of her distracted state to flip her over onto her back. She yelped and pulled her hand out of her underwear to cling to him. 

“Take this all off, babe, I wanna be inside you,” he growled. He didn’t even wait for her to start, he just grabbed her knees impatiently and bent them, pushing them together and to the side so he could slip her underwear off swiftly. 

He glanced up at the steel bowl and reached inside to take a couple of ice cubes. Like she’d don’t earlier, he scooted forward so her thighs moved over his thighs, opening her legs to him. 

“Wow, all that really did get you wet,” he chuckled, placing one ice cube on her pelvic bone. The arctic-like water trickled down to her folds and over her pulsing clit. She gasped and shuddered, nipples becoming hard before he even put his cold mouth and fingers over them.

“Why are you surprised?” She asked breathlessly, digging her fingers into his hair. “Like it’s not always like that with you…” she arched her back, her hips moving impatiently, causing the ice to slide across her skin. 

“Dunno,” Dean mumbled against her breast, moaning as she gently scraped his scalp with her fingernails. He sucked softly and then let her nipple go, but continued to pinch the other, rolling it between his fingers. “Let me act shocked, okay? Please, it’s… real sexy.”

She laughed and roughly tugged on the strands of his hair for the fun of it. His little moan made her needier. 

“You keeping the panties on?” She asked, reaching down to wrap her hand around his cock again. On purpose, she made sure to angle his dick towards where the frigid ice was, and he released a long, grunted curse. His hips stuttered, in between wanting to feel the contrast of temperature against his hot cock and wanting to get far away from it. 

“I just wanna… fuck you… that, um.. okay?” He panted against her parted lips as she tugged at his cock unhurriedly. His words excited her, making her stomach clench and his breath, the brush of his lips against hers, it all made her dizzy, drunk with arousal. 

“Whatever you want, Dean.” 

“I dunno, I’m pretty weird, babe,” he laughed softly, a hint of insecurity in his lopsided smile. 

“Have you met me?” She challenged, bringing his cock down to her pussy, using the tip to separate her weeping folds and tease her clit. Her breath hitched and she picked up the pace of her strokes, letting each tug press his cock against her clit.

“Babe,” he gasped, pressing his forehead against hers, and screwed his eyes shut. Her lips found his in a long, loving kiss. He dropped his body lower, gripping the pillow beneath her head, and bucked his hips into her hand. 

“Fuck me, Dean… I want all of you. Every glorious inch.”

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