#getting back into the swing of drawing and actually being happy with it

[citrusdownn]

sabolaw...and corabug...like imagine ur not so boyfriend but boyfriend pulling up one day and meeting ur two clown dads....

SORRY THIS TOOK ALMOST A MONTH TO GET TO BUT LOOK SILLY COMIC!!

sabolaw and corabug make me so insane omfg i was originally gonna make some drawings based off your idea where they somehow meet in regular op world but it morphed into me making a modern au comic

also apologies for the formatting of some of the panels i just kinda put shit wherever i could fit it hopefully its readable

[deadghosy]

Hi! I hope you're doing great!

So I saw the headcannons of reader as Catnap and Dogday and I fell in love with the way you write! So I was wondering if you could do a headcannon about the reader being bendy from bendy and the ink machine?

Like the reader can draw and bring ink creatures to help around the hotel, maybe draw some decorations for the hotel? Sometimes going full on ink demon form to protect it or just pick up their friends on their back to make them feel taller

And the reader was actually an animator at joey drew studios and died, I think that would be pretty cool!

P.s I would love if the reader was wearing the same suit bendy wore in bendy and the dark revival

HAZBIN HOTEL X BENDY!READER

Prompt: a cute “little” demon becomes a resident who helps with the designs around the hotel!

Starting off. You definitely appeared as baby bendy 😘 with ya cute ass red bow or white bow. What ever you want the bow color as you showed up to the door trying to seem professional as Charlie gushes at your cuteness and lets you in.

The picture of baby bendy in the car, yeah you have that as you literally fuckin' zoom in the hallways drinking apple juice like a bad ass kid….bendy!Reader and chibi!Reader both doing races to make sinners poor😭 lil evil asses….

I imagine Angel dust and Alastor ganging up on you as a team to insult you by your height until you grow up to ink demon from with a roar.

“HOLY SHIT-” “Oh my.” They both said as you they were blew off by the power of your roar. So you felt happy seeing them shocked to see that part of you as Charlie didn’t see it and had commented how adorable you are with your suit.

Shit you are a devil in an angel’s suit‼️

You still wore the suit you had in when you met Audrey…man you miss her. But you are getting taken care of by Charlie and her friends here. Plus her father.

You help design the banners around the place! And even your small ink minions help as well.

I can imagine bendy! Reader being like “fuck it.” Because they can’t reach for the cereal and turn into normal height looking bendy and just starts to act as if it’s normal. While in the background, the crew has pure confusion on their face. Like, “what the fuck? You can be taller?”

“Yeah! Pretty neat right?” “..Im out of here…” husk says walking away as niffty goes up to you excited to talk to you about your height.

You ran over alastor’s foot once….you never speeded over 120 mph in your whole life seeing Alastor chase after you.

I imagine you going to normal height as you are just chilling with your small or long tail swinging and husk gets curious as he picks it up with his paw. “So…this ya tail right here?” You nodded reading the new paper. “So you’re a sinner demon?” “I ain’t nothin'” you said with a smirk as you disappeared in ink.

No one knows what exactly what you are. You don’t have the basic looks to look like a sinner or a hell born. So it’s kinda confusing to other.

You’re obviously a human who died to the ink as you use to animate bendy…so you’re bendy?? Does that make since because whatever you died by is your demon form….hopefully that made sense..

You once went full ink demon mode because a sinner tried to attack at you and husk while just running errands for the hotel. You transformed getting taller with the ink covering your face as you growl and slashes at them with a giant gloved hand covered in ink. And after that husk respected you more.

“Bendy/reader, can you help me make a cute star design?” Vaggie asked as Charlie was trying to make a star gazing banner. You nodded with your cartoony smile and pulls out a marker and started to draw on the air. The star in the air becomes to life as vaggie’s eyes widen.

“Uhm…oh wow. Thanks?” Vaggie says as she walks away with question marks visible while you just smile.

Y’know those dubbed comics where bendy has an accent? I feel like that’s cannon because you and Angel would be babbling about which part of city you guys were from.

I can see sir Pentious and you doing crafts as you made him an ink cartoon flower as he made you a bracelet bead with your name on it.

Lucifer will definitely play violin as you tap dance. Just a wholesome ass moment fr 💗🦆

You one time had fat nuggets in your doom buggy as you guys had shades just chilling around the hotel like bad asses✨

You miss your original family when you were alive and working. But everytime you open your eyes, you are greeted by the sweet comfort of your new family in the hazbin hotel.

You one time made an ink sculpture of your family and you tried to hold your smile but it faltered as you cry at how you missed your family as the ink sculpture melted due to your emotions.

Alastor appeared in your room seeing you sad little state as he comforted you. He had taken a liking to you ever since you joined the crew.

I can see you being childish because of your shortness so you use it to your advantage. YOU AND ALASTOR MAKE YOUR INK DEMONS FIGHT LIKE POKÉMON 😭😭

lol imagine bendy!reader making a whole like of fake ass tarrot cards to fuck with people as you have that smirk on your face.

“You’re gonna get run over toots…watch your back..” “what. The. Fuck-”

They got ran over by a mysterious person and a car….who knew who it was…it was you, you little bastard.

When the hotel has a talent and show day or night, you remembered how you animated bendy to do ballet and tap dancing. So with your information, that’s what you did. Yeah some sinners laughed..but some aplaude as they found it cute and so did your friends

You making ink blob bracelets for your friends as you can make them solid is a goal for real.

Headcannon on how you would try to make ink sculptures, but failing as you huff in anger and smash it with a full ink demon hand as the rest of your body is fine.

Headcannon of you just accidentally leaving ink footprints as you took off your shoes once 😭 niffty doesn’t complain as she likes to clean tho

I can see Lucifer picking your small body up happy for you to be so small as he has started in his eyes. And you are like annoyed at how the cast picks you up like a baby.

LMAO THAT WALMART MEME STOPPP😭😭 LUCIFER PUTS YOU UP TO THE DAMN WALMART CAMERA HAVING ALASTOR ALSO PICK LUCI UP 😭😭

I imagine you and Alastor having either a “bad ass son x calm father” troupe or a “non-biological sibling” troupe as you two get quite along

Your little ass doom buggy is such a weapon when needing to take a troubled guest in the hotel….YOU RAN THEM OVER?! 😨 ALL PEOPLE SEE IS A SMALL ASS INK DEMON HAVING A GUEST SCREAMING AS THEY GET RUNNED OVER TO THE DOOR-

So when the angels came for the battle, you were sure damn ready as you suffocated them in ink and control them into killing their own.

After seeing your full demon form, you definitely had been seen in a different light. They don’t see you as the cute baby bendy they seen you before.

Nah nah. They see you as a grown ass person as you are not in the baby bendy phase but more like the fanart type shit looks. With your charm, you definitely bring in some customers. 

HOPED YOU GUYS LIKED THIS AS THIS IS ALL I COULD COME UP WITH 🦆💗 MWAH

[tashid4]

Ghostface Sero

This one is really smutty so TW‼️‼️

October 31th. It was your last year at UA and everyone was reunited in the dorm. You all decided to organise an Halloween party. At first, it was supposed to be only your class, 20 people. But over the hours a lot of people decided to join. Now there was at least 50 people dancing in the common room.

You were dancing with your friends, having the time of your life. You were just happy to be with your girls, hyping each other and laughing. It was the middle of the night but you weren't tired at all, you could dance for 10 more hours. Adrenaline coursing through your veins.

At some point you went to grab another drink but after that you couldn't find your friends anymore. Alone in the middle of the crowd. The party was in full swing. You were in full panic. You didn't bring your phone, you had no way to get to them.

That is when you saw him, staring at you from afar. Ghostface. The mask. He was dressed in full black : black pants, black tank top, black shoes and of course the black mask. You felt like he was staring through your soul.

Your eyes locked on him. Getting closer to you. Pushing people around to get to you. Alone surrounded by strangers you felt vulnerable but it was exciting to find out who was hiding behind the mask. He managed to get to you, now that he was close you noticed how tall he really was, towering over you by several feet. Still looking at him, your heart start to pound out of your chest.

"So you got a boyfriend ?" he asked with a familiar voice. It was deep and smooth. Spicy and sweet. Sharp and sugary. You liked it. "Not at all" "Good"

You smiled widely as he grabbed your waist.

"Fuck don't stop" he's been pounding into you for so long now that you couldn't even tell if it was still dark outside or if the sun had risen. His hips rocking against yours. Slapping your skin so good. It was probably red now.

"You like it when I fuck you like this baby" you were a moaning mess, unable to form a correct sentence. Your only response was a loud moan and your pussy squeezing him more. "Such a slut, letting a stranger put his dick in you. Bet you've fantasized about this"

And you actually did. Having a complete stranger ruin you with a mask was at the top of your list. It was one of your darkest secret. The only person you told this was your best friend Sero. He's been your friend since you entered the school, always sticking together. He was the one getting you back on your feet after every single one of your breakups. Wipping away your tears.

Now here he was, secretlly making you cry with pleasure. He was tired of all these guys, breaking your heart, he could take such good care of you. He knew it. Why couldn't you know that too?

"You're so pretty like this" he pulled your hair, making you let out a scream of surprise. "That's it scream for me, let everyone know how good I'm fucking you right now"

He turned you over on the bed and placed your legs on his shoulder. His thumb was drawing circles on your clit. It was so much you couldn't handle it. You were seeing stars now, incoherent thoughts forming in your head. Your name ? Don't remember it. The only thing you could focus on was the delicious feeling of his dick inside of you. Your eyes couldn't stay open, the pleasure was hitting you so harshly. "I want you to fucking look at me." He was being so mean but you honestly found him even sexier like this. Being treated like a bitch was making you so wet.

"Look at me" You wanted to but it was too hard. You were overwhelmed by all the stimulation. Suddenly, he stopped all of his movements. He grabbed your hair and whispered in your ear. "You don't wanna look at me baby? I guess I'll have to teach you a good lesson."

He got dressed and left with your panties. Closing the door, leaving you alone and naked. You were still trying to process what just happened. Did he really left you here, on the verge of your orgasm ?

Part 2 ????

[princessbrunette]

when did you know you loved me? pt.1 /4 ♡

for puppy!reader, being john booker routledge’s girlfriend meant asking random questions at random times. would you still love me if i was a worm? what would you do if someone tried to kidnap me? who would win in a fight between you and a shark?

what you loved about john b, was that he always had an answer. that was this thing — always having a solution, a plan A, plan B, it was all he knew, so he never had trouble thinking of ways to answer your innocent, inquisitive queries.

it was on a stroll through the neighbourhood, hand in hand when the question occurred to you. this was the first time you’d ever loved someone — so you wasn’t sure how it was supposed to work. sure, you’d said ‘i love you’ to eachother, many times — but you wasn’t sure if you could pinpoint the moment it happened. the moment you realised.

“i thought of a question to ask.” you swing his hand in your own as you walk carefully alongside him, careful not to trip on any loose tiles in the sidewalk like you’d done five minutes prior. you seem to have snapped him out of some thoughts, possibly a conundrum he was facing with the pogues or about some maps, but he seems happy to escape his thoughts — head snapping towards you with a small smile.

“yeah? shoot, pup.”

“when did you know you loved me?” you’re a little quieter today, perhaps timid to ask such a vulnerable question. as you ask he feels your eyes flicker up from your shoes to his hand, up his arm and then to his face. it wasn’t like you to be shy, not with him — which only filled his heart with more of that warm admiration.

“ohoho— that is a good question. one i actually, have an answer to.” he smirks, and you can’t help but grin, already feeling at ease. there was always a story with john b, it was never a simple answer.

“yeah?” you sound hopeful, staring up at his profile as you walk now, trusting him to guide you away from anything that could cause you to trip once more.

“uh-huh. i even remember what you were wearing that day.” he hums, enjoying the element of you having to draw it out of him, although he would have definitely have just told you anyway without any convincing.

“tell me!” you gasp with an elated giggle and he chuckles in response.

“okay, okay— but look, don’t expect anything crazy. it was uh… kind of a regular old moment? you know? like… you’re gonna be confused.” he nods as he gathers his thoughts. you come to a brick wall, one with chipped white paint, and pink flowers sprouting from the overgrown grass around it. you take the moment to let go of his hand and leap, clambering up to sit on top of the wall. instead of telling you to be careful like he usually might, he joins you — sitting side by side on the wall.

“okay.” you ready yourself.

“we’d maybe known eachother for…” he blows a puff of air from his cheeks as he thinks. “six weeks? you’d started coming to the chateau pretty regularly, kind of just showing up without an invite which i didn’t mind ‘cus you know, i was falling for you pretty fast.”

you smile, remembering what it was first like when you were getting to know john b.

“so… you’d fallen out of that tree. you remember? the one out the front, just… dropped right down from the branch. what you were doing up there, i don’t know, i mean i told you not to climb it, but there you were, climbing it anyway… and…” he rambles comically, gesturing you falling from the tree eliciting a small laugh from you, he trails off, thinking back on the moment with a softness to him. “you were wearing this cute little blue shirt and a skirt, and when i was patching you up i remember thinking how blue is like… definitely your colour.” he nods, and you find yourself mirroring his nod, so entranced in the way he speaks.

“anyway, uh — i was patching up your knee, and despite everything you still had your headphones over your ears. i gestured for you to take them off so, you know — i could ask if you’re okay, and uh…” he chuckles, shaking his head. “you said no. because your favourite song was still playing and you wanted to let it finish. yoooou and that damn walkman.” he shakes his head again in faux disappointment as you grin proudly, beginning to remember the day he spoke of.

only then he breaks out of his storytelling trance, turning his head to look at you from where he was staring ahead. “aaaand… yeah. love kinda just… happened? i know for a fact i knew in that moment that i was in love with you.” he finishes, his voice low and warm as he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars. john b was never one to shy away from affection— he was a loverboy at heart and this only proved it. you bite your lip, feeling your nose get a little runny like you wanted to cry. noticing this, john b smirks, tilting his head a little.

“what, too sappy? didnt wanna make you cry…” he jokes, reaching over to cup your cheek, swiping his thumb over it like he was wiping the tears that hadn’t fallen.

“it would be a happy kind of cry… because you make me happy.” you’re lost for words, but you swallow down the lump and smile anyway, kicking your legs on the wall with glee.

“well that’s good. i definitely like making you happy.”

[the-kr8tor]

OK SO I JUST HAD LIKE A REALLY CUTE SIMPLE REQUEST IF THATS COOL WITH YOUUUU

SO LIKE WHAT IF YOU DO ONE WHERE THE READER(Y/N) DOES LIKE THE TREND OF "PRETENDING TO BE ALSEEP TO SEE WHAT MY BOYFRIEND WOULD DO" LIKE I FEEL LIKE HOBIE WOULD BE SO CUTE AND ACTUALLY SWEET

dont mind my excitement 🥲

also ur writing is b e a u t i f u l and makes me so happy!!!

Ahhh i love how excited you are!! Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The soft mattress invites you to fall asleep, but you refuse the sweet embrace of sleep until Hobie gets home safe and sound from his patrol. The book perched on your chest wobbles in your hands, eyes drifting off from the pages, you blink away sleep. The familiar sound of the window opening stirs you awake as his boots hit the wooden floors.

Smiling at his return, you can tell that he's trying his best to not make any sound on your behalf in case you're asleep. Deciding to tease him after being bored all day without him by your side, you lay the book flat on your stomach, eyes closed and evening out your breathing to disguise your wakefulness.

You hear the door creak open, “love?” He whispers into the cool and dark room. You left the bedside lamp open, a sign of your previous activity.

With his enhanced senses, he can tell from your heartbeat and calculated breaths that you're faking sleep. You can't fool him, nonetheless, he's endeared by your antics.

Smiling, he slowly makes his way towards your side, floorboards not making any sound from his silent footsteps, he intends to break you from your prank.

“Damn, couldn't even wait for me, huh?” That doesn't seem to faze you, but he saw that your pinky twitched though. Smirking, he crouches down, and takes the book from your stomach. “I should save your place, but there's no bookmarks here. I'll just fold the corner for you.” Knowing that you hate dog-eared pages, he pretends to fold it by sliding his finger down the pages, mimicking the sound of folding paper. But in truth, he took a coin from his pocket to place it in between the pages. Yet, you still don't budge. He needs to take out the big guns.

“There, saved your place.” Kissing your temple, and then bringing the blanket up to your chin, he stands up to his full height, faking a pained wince. “Fuck.” From his murmured curse, you open your eyes immediately.

“Are you hurt?” Frantic, you sit up, roaming your wide eyes over his entire form while your hands reach up to him. Before you could stand up from the bed, Hobie drops himself on top of you, face hidden on your throat as you giggle from under his weight.

You hear him chuckle lowly, and you flick your eyes down to meet with a very smug Hobie. “Made you look.” He cups your face, chin placed on your clavicle, thumbs brushing under your tired eyes.

You pout, prank thwarted. “Are you actually okay?” your hands wander all over him, checking for wounds.

“‘m fine, love.” Hobie sits up to take his vest off, showing off his almost pristine suit. He tosses the vest somewhere in the dark, “Just a few bumps and scratches. I thought I had to tickle you for you to break.” He sits on top of you, knees right next to your thighs, hands braced next to your head as he gazes softly down on you. The moonlight behind him illuminates him in silver light. And you can't help but ogle him in the soft light.

You finally sigh in relief. Hands sliding from his chest, feeling the spandex, up to his nape as you pull him closer to you. “Did you actually fold my book?” Chuckling, you feel his hand pat around your waist, palm moving under your shirt to draw circles around your hip. His hands are cold from swinging around, but you welcome it while he relaxes in your touch.

“‘course not,” he gives you an amused smile.

“Good.” You tilt his head back to kiss the underside of his jaw. “I thought you'd just walk past me towards the shower.” You murmur against his skin.

Hi pinches your side, sighing breathily from your barrage of kisses. “Never, even if you were actually asleep, I'd kiss you goodnight.”

You lean away, eyes soft for him. “And tuck the blanket around me?”

He raises a brow with a chuckle. “D’you want me to tuck you in?”

You make a face. “....maybe.”

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

The meta text of Vaggie hating when people don't use her name or try calling her by another one THEY think she should use, bc they think her name is too vulgar or demeaning or too silly not to joke about -> and then parts of the fandom doing the same thing, is honestly really hitting home in a queer way

here's a character who we know wants people to use her chosen name.

we know she does because she corrects Adam to his face "Actually, it's pronounced Vaggie" drawing a hard line of NO between the old name he gave her with that soft G and the one her girlfriend uses for her now

her exasperation even during the battle, answering Pentious's call out of Vaggatha but still also tiredly pointing out "Not my name", and

ironically. The second miss-naming hurts me more than the first

the Adam thing makes me hate the guy on a personal level, with his stupid smug little "Hmmmmmm- no. Anyway-" saying Vaggie isn't ALLOWED to name herself something new as if he has any claim over her, as if her name has anything to do with him after he abandoned her

But the Pentious thing almost hurts worse for how well meant and casual it is. How familiar that is.

Here it's coming from a friend and the misnaming is a sign of affection from him, a show of respect. He's not calling her the purple female anymore. This is Pentious and his tick of getting polite and formal when addressing people he likes, him snapping his earnest salutes, him as we saw earlier that episode with his shy "Miss Bomb" towards Cherri.

And the way Vaggie just kinda rolls her eye and takes it from him while still clearly not liking it...

She used to wear a uniform that made her almost identical to the other Exorcists around her, she was given her old name by the man in charge of her, a name based on how useful to him she was, she's still got all that soldier stuff marching through her head making her grab for her spear and leaving her with no idea how to get people to bond other than throwing them bodily into a warzone

It just makes sense that the woman she's in a long term happy relationship with be so normal about her chosen 'vulgar' and 'inappropriate' name

Being together that long means Charlie probably knows this specific frustration her girlfriend has and cares enough about her to just say "Vaggie" like its nothing. Or maybe she just thinks, duh, of course she'll use the name Vaggie tells her to use

Maybe Charlie being that kinda person is part of what Vaggie loves about her in the first place. The amount of trust Charlie places in people, just by default

Because there could be good and bad reasons Vaggie's using a version of her old name after leaving that life behind

She could be doing it to remind herself of the shit person she was and feels she has to still make up for being, it could be tied to her self imposed new life purpose of helping make Charlie's dreams come true, it could be Vaggie keeping part of something she hates (herself) so she can feel a bit of "deserved" pain over it even when she was too scared to admit her past to anyone else- a sneaky way to always be reminded of it by the new people in her new life anyway

but that's her choice. People are allowed to make bad decisions for themselves

there's that ethos of the whole hotel and redemption plan again, Charlie's dreams and ideals swinging back into action even when Charlie maybe doesn't know it

what's the idea of redemption or personal change other than accepting that people CAN make choices for themselves? They can even make shitty ones, and that's not a reason to drop them forever or take the choice away like they don't deserve it anymore

What's the permanent extermination of souls other than saying they forever lost the right to say what happens to themselves?

a gay woman is calling herself after vag while switching out her soldier gear to wear miniskirts and giant as fuck hair bow ribbons while kissing and cuddling her girlfriend. Maybe it's cringe. Maybe it's camp. Even if Vaggie obviously isn't meant to be literally trans, it's that deliberate choice thing again, a kinda switcheroo from Adam naming her Vagina just bc it's something that he likes for how it makes him feel good, to Vaggie saying no this is MY thing now.

The Vagina to Vaggie thing is the difference between putting a name on someone else verses taking it for your own.

and Charlie affirms that choice, that right of Vaggie to be called the name she choses, no matter WHAT it sounds like or how awkward it makes some people feel

like, if someone in real life told you their name was Vaggie, would you use their name for them?

Would you accept feeling a bit weird for their sake?

Or would you do what happens so much in real life, when people who care still think they know better or feel like someone being who they are infringes too much on their own sense of comfort or even on that person's own safety, and with all the good intentions and love in the world, someone hurts someone else without understanding that they're evening doing it.

Like Pentious

Who is really and truly Vaggie's friend. The guy she got off to a rough start with but ends up rooting for, shoving her gf out of the room so he can talk to his own crush in peace. He dies to try protecting his friends, including her, and she misses him when he's gone

and he still thought he was doing a nice thing by calling her the more 'normal' sounding "Vagatha". Either because he assumed Vaggie couldn't really be her full name, or thought she deserved better

Charlie doesn't think Vaggie needs a better name

Charlie says her name all the time like it's her favorite word ever, if only because it belongs to the woman she loves

i feel a lot of things about that.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

After the tense morning, you don't speak to Walter again that day. Or the next. When he arrives, he stays outside with his thermos of coffee and waits for Timothy. At the end of the day, he gives your brother an excuse about chores at home. Maybe not an excuse. He has been spending a lot of time around here.

Nearly a week after it happened, after everything changed, your mother appears in the kitchen with a crease in her forehead. You offer her a cup off coffee as she rubs her eyes. She yawns and and shakes her head.

“We'll grab a cup at the hospital,” she says, “you're father has a check-up. Timmy's taking us.”

“Oh?” You pour yourself a mug and lean on the counter, “I forgot.”

“Lots going on,” she sighs, “can't blame you for being distracted.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you shrug.

“I called Walter, left a message,” she checks the clock hung above the door, “wouldn't be too bad if he did swing by, huh?”

“Hopefully he doesn't waste the time,” you grumble.

“Honey,” she chides playfully, “you know, I think your dad would approve… if he could. He always liked Walter.”

“Mom,” you frown, “please, I have enough to worry about.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she whines, “I'm just… looking for a little sunshine through the clouds.”

You wince, a pang of guilt between your ribs, “I'm sorry, mom, I just… Walter's nice. He helps so much and I think… I think maybe it's too much.”

“Don't I know it.  He is so generous. I gave him some money and I found the envelope in my purse,” she tuts, “you could do much worse. He… he could take care of you.”

You exhale, “mom.”

“Just listen,” her tone turns dire and her eyes gleam, “your pa can't. He's not gonna be able to ever again. I already know what the doc's gonna day and you shouldn't fool yourself. Walter won't help forever, not for no good reason. And next year, your pa won't be back on his tractor…” she sniffles and dabs her nose, “those days are behind us.”

“Ma, you don't know–”

“I do,” she utters solemnly, “I see the man I married but he's hollow. He's… a shell, honey. He's there but he's not really.”

“Oh, ma–”

“I'm just saying… we need to weigh our options. I'll look into selling if we gotta and Timmy, maybe he can go work with Walt–”

“Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?” You cross an arm around your middle.

“We shoulda been talking about this a week ago,” she shakes her head.

“Well, I can apply at the grocer or–”

“You do that,” she says, “but you think real hard. You got options,” she steps closer and cups your cheeks, “you're a pretty young thing. That doesn't last forever.”

You don't say a word as her greyness seeps into you. She draws away and you bow your head. You wait for her to go as you stare into the black depths of the coffee. You take a sip to try to chase away the ice in your veins but it only sends a shiver through you.

🌾

Your parents go off with Timmy in the truck. You set to sweeping the porch to keep yourself busy. Your mother's words ring in your ears. She can't be serious, there's more out there than the farm. Pa always said as much and you don't think he meant Walter.

As you get to the steps, the distant rumble of an engine rolls over the ground. You turn as gravel grits under treads and Walter's large truck lazily rocks along the bumpy road. You still the straw broom and grip the handle as he pulls up. Did he not get your mother's message?

He lingers in the truck as you squint against the sunlight. His door pops open and he jumps down, sending up a cloud of dust. He goes around the bed of the truck and opens the back.

He slides out a sheet of wood and drags it towards you. You watch in confusion as he stops and leans it against the side of the porch. His eyes meet yours and his brows furrow.

“Morning,” he checks his watch, “barely.”

“Morning, Mr. Marshall,” you eke out.”

His eyes flash and he nods. He turns and marches back to the truck, pulling out several planks before carrying them over. You watch him as you lean on the broom.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

He stops and looks up at you. He points to your feet and flicks his finger up, “building a ramp. For your dad.”

You look down at your slips flecked in dirt and stray strands of straw, “oh? Didn't ma call–”

“She didn't ask,” he says bluntly. 

Your lips slant and you tilt your head, “that's real nice.”

“Yeah well, I'm a nice guy,” he huffs and spins on the heel of his boots, stomping away once more.

He goes back to the truck and retrieves his toolbox. His agitation roils off his tense shoulders and the stone set in his jaw. You're too afraid to ask but you do need to. He has been avoiding you.

“Well, I'll stay out of your way,” you lift the broom and back up the stairs. “If you need anything–”

“Not in the way,” he says curtly as he takes out a measuring tape.

“Oh, I know but I wouldn't wanna bother–”

“I don't mind,” he shrugs as he steps onto the stairs and measures the angle over them.

“Right, of course, do you need anything? A glass of water or–”

“Seems like I'm the one bothering,” he stands and lets the tape retract harshly.

“No?” You bat your lashes at him, “I didn't say that, Mr.--”

“Walt,” he growls, “you know what I like best in a woman. Honesty. So why don't you be honest and tell me what you really feel?”

“I…” you gulp, “Walter, er, Walt, I… I'm just… confused.”

“Don't act like a child. We both know you're not,” he crosses his arms over his broad chest. You've seen him angry before but it's never been aimed at you. 

“I… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.”

“Sorry. Okay,” he shakes his head and unfolds his arms, going back to measuring, “I'm open to talking when you wanna be an adult.”

You flinch as you watch him. He grits his teeth, ignoring your presence as he focuses on his work. You turn, hiding the hurt deep in your chest. You never meant to hurt him but you really don't know. As much as you try to wade through your feelings, you only feel as if you're drowning in them.

[wreckedandpolemic]

screwed up and brilliant - matty healy

(mdni) in which your whirlwind summer takes a turn you never could have predicted. part two of white and gold. 16185 words.

warnings (here we go): daddy kink (obvs), phone sex, authority kink, roleplay, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!matty, spanking, semi-public sex, gagging, oral (f receiving), mentions of anal, vague allusions to parental fuckery

The singular thought circling through your head the entire way home is what the fuck. If it weren’t for the soreness in your muscles, the bruises on your thighs and your embarrassing lack of underwear, you’d believe you dreamt the whole thing. You stop the taxi a little ways down your street, trying not to draw attention to yourself returning from your unbelievable night. It’s not like your parents would know exactly where you’ve been, but you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of getting caught coming home from a hookup.

It turns out you didn’t need to worry, though, your footsteps echoing through an empty house as you let yourself in the back. Checking your phone for the first time since you left the dinner with Matty, critically low battery and a text from your mother flash up at you. We’ve gone out for lunch at the Dove. Love you x, the text informs you, a sense of guilty relief washing over you. There’s few things you love more than your house being empty; your shoulders loose without your mother’s nervous, slightly oppressive energy and your father’s meaningful and disappointed glances. Your steps are light as you waltz up the stairs to your room, flinging open your wardrobe to start getting ready before you realise you don’t know what you should be dressing for.

You tip out your clutch onto the bed, business cards, lipgloss and a forgotten pair of earrings spilling on your sheets as you dig for Matty’s number. Tapping the keyboard idly, you try to think of a good opening message, inspiration striking as you catch sight of a discarded bra on your bedroom floor. You slip into a favourite set, black with gold detailing and leaving very little to the imagination, and pose in your bedroom mirror, texting the photo to Matty.

hi x

trying to get ready but i don’t know what to wear :( where are we going?

Fucking hell

Hi, pretty girl

You could wear that and I’d be a very happy man

yeah i bet you would

answer the question perv

I don’t want to spoil the surprise

if you don’t tell me im changing

Fine

Brat

It’s nice but relaxed

Youre not dressing for dinner its not that hard

rude

pick me up in an hour ;)

You turn back to your wardrobe with a groan — what the fuck does he mean by nice but relaxed? A skirt and a nice top? Heels or no heels? What are you supposed to do with your hair? Leafing through your clothes, you find a green sundress tucked away near the back, a vintage treasure you’d picked up at a market a few years ago and promptly forgotten about. By some stroke of luck, it fits perfectly, the skirt swirling gorgeously around your calves. Your reflection grins back at you as you dust on some makeup, finding a dangling pair of jade earrings to match.

Exactly on cue, your phone rings, flashing up Matty’s contact. “Hi, love. I’m outside — well, as close as I dare, anyway. I’m on a double yellow, actually. Risking my spotless driving record for you.”

You snort. “They’ve gone out, park in the drive. I’ll come to the door.” You pad down the stairs as Matty’s tyres crunch on the gravel outside. Smoothing down your hair nervously, you take a deep breath, the blurry outline of him visible through the stained glass of your front door. You swing the door open as Matty raises his fist to knock, giggling slightly at the way he stands, his hand hovering meaninglessly in midair.

His eyes blow wide as he takes you in, crowding you close in a split-second. “Hi, princess,” he grins, electricity tingling under your skin where he holds you by the waist, his body pressed against yours. “If nobody’s home, I can do this,” he breathes, catching your lips and kissing you deeply, licking into your mouth like a starving man.

After a long moment, you find the strength to push him away. “Matty, the neighbours!” you protest.

“Fine,” Matty says, walking you inside and kicking the door shut behind him. He pulls you back to him, catching your lips in a filthy kiss, a slide of lips and tongue, sticky with desire. Groaning into your mouth, his lips fall to your neck, pressing kisses over the concealed bruises on your neck. You can tell he wants to cover them, mark you up as his own, and you giggle as you push his head back.

“Do we have to go to lunch?” you tease. “They’re not gonna be back for hours.”

Matty pinches your ass through your skirt. “Needy girl. You’ll love the place, I promise.” Slowly, like it pains him, he lets go of you and steps back, eyes widening as he properly takes in the sight of you for the first time. “God, you look gorgeous, princess. You look like summer.” You flush, shifting on your feet and glancing at the floor. “Can’t believe I get to have you. You know everyone who sees you is gonna be fuckin’ jealous of me, gonna want my pretty girl for themselves?” He looks livid at the mere prospect, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

You giggle. “But I’ll be there with you. Why would I want anyone else?” you assure him, stretching up to kiss at the corners of his mouth until he cracks a smile. Your chest aches a little at the sight, a private moment of happiness stretching between you. You can almost see the path along with it, a brief flicker of a life with him dancing in your imagination before you swat it away.

Fuck, you’re in too deep. You’re hurtling towards a vast expanse of something, and you don’t even have the strength to look away. You can only hope the breakneck pace isn’t going to break your heart, too.

“That’s right,” Matty says, after what feels like an eternity. “All mine, yeah? Shall we?”

You nod, not yet trusting yourself to speak, and take his hand, sliding into the passenger seat of his car. The smell of clean leather envelops you, mixed with Matty’s now-familiar cigarettes and cologne smell. Matty’s hand lands on your thigh and traces absent circles as he reverses out of the drive. The streets roll by, rows of houses all merging together, your eyes glazing over while you avoid Matty’s gaze. “So pretty, baby,” he murmurs. “My pretty little passenger princess.”

“Does that mean you’ll drive me anywhere I want?” you tease, finally bringing your gaze back to Matty. The afternoon light casts him in a soft glow, his curls ruffling in the gentle breeze. He taps his fingers absently on the wheel, a sick thrill running through you as you remember feeling them on your skin, thighs clenching needily under his touch. You slide a hand between his legs, smirking at the hiss he lets out when you palm gently over his cock. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while,” you add teasingly, plying him with wide, innocent eyes.

Matty chuckles darkly and returns his other hand to the wheel, your skin impossibly cold in the absence his touch leaves behind. “You gonna get me off right here? In the car with the windows down? Such a naughty girl.” He inclines his head as if to say go on, calling your bluff, and you lower your gaze and return your hand to your lap, subdued. “That’s what I thought. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, princess.”

You shrug. “Wouldn’t want to taint your spotless driving record,” you tease, and he tips back his head and laughs, the sound filling the car and wrapping around you, your head going fuzzy with affection. A few minutes later, Matty puts the car in park, leaning over the centre console to kiss you. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumbing lightly over your cheek and smiling against your lips. Ever the gentleman, he comes to the passenger side to let you out, and you take his arm and let him lead you inside. 

“Afternoon,” Matty greets the maître d’ with a polite smile. “Healy for two, one thirty?”

“Ah, yes, right this way, sir,” he says, his eyes flickering curiously over you as he leads you through the restaurant.

His gaze lands judgmentally on Matty when he tugs you into him by the waist, and you bristle, deliberately planting a kiss on his cheek as you walk. “Would you like to sit inside or outside?” the maître d’ asks in a tone that suggests he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Can we sit outside, please? It’s such a nice day,” you say, and Matty grins indulgently down at you. He inclines his head at the maître d’, who leads you into the restaurant’s courtyard. Your jaw drops at the oasis you’ve suddenly found yourself in, lush green dotted through with glass tables, quiet chatter undercut with the splash of a dancing water fountain.

“This place is gorgeous,” you say as Matty pulls out your chair for you. “Do you come here a lot?”

He sees right through you, smirking over his menu. “I’ve never brought a girl here,” he tells you, answering the question you’re really asking.

“You keep saying that,” you say thoughtfully. “No bullshitting this time, what makes me so special?”

Matty meets your eyes, holding your gaze deadly serious. “I don’t date a lot, princess,” he tells you. “The girls that I… spend time with…” Your jaw clenches. “They’re not… Well, I need to feel a connection, you know? And I hadn’t felt it in a long time. I was kind of starting to give up hope,” he huffs a quiet laugh, a soft smile crossing his face when he speaks. “And then I met you, and I could just feel it.” He’s gazing adoringly at you, and you suddenly wonder if maybe it’s okay that you’re in too deep, because maybe, just maybe, he’s right there with you.

“Matty, I—”

“Good afternoon!” a bright, falsely cheery voice cuts in. “Are you both ready for drinks?”

Annoyed at the interruption, you purse your lips and address Matty. “I don’t know… What do you think I should get?” you grin, deliberately playing up the affection, leaning towards him and batting your lashes.

“I don’t know, darling. Are you feeling like wine?”

“I can come back,” the waitress says, all pretence at cheer abandoned as she taps her pencil against her notepad impatiently.

Rolling your eyes, you wave a hand at her. “No, stay. Just give me a minute to decide, ‘kay?” You scan the menu and deliberately order the most expensive rosé with a smirk in Matty’s direction. He shrugs, ordering himself a Malbec, and the waitress finally buzzes off.

It feels inappropriate to return to your conversation after the interruption, and you chuckle awkwardly. The breeze ripples in the silence between you, pulling clouds away from the sun so it shines directly into your eyes. Wincing, you shield your face, squinting in a way you’re sure is horrendously unattractive. Matty laughs softly. “Here you go, darling,” he says, pulling his sunglasses off his head and gently resting them on your face. “God, and here I thought you couldn’t get any prettier,” he adds, and you flush, picking at imaginary lint on your dress to avoid his gaze. 

“Flatterer,” you scoff, kicking softly at his shin. “Thank you,” you add, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“S’nothing, princess. Keep ‘em, if you want.” Matty shrugs as if they’re inconsequential, and not a two hundred pound accessory. “Smoke?” he offers as you’re still reeling.

You nod, tilting your head quizzically. “Thought you didn’t want me ruining my lungs?” you tease, slipping the cigarette between your lips.

Matty chuckles. “It’s a beautiful day, you’re getting fresh air, your pretty lungs will survive one,” he teases, flicking his lighter under your cigarette as you take a deep drag.

His gaze lingers meaningfully on you as the smoke curls from your mouth and you squirm. “What?” you ask, desire evident in his eyes; he just keeps fucking staring.

He blinks, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “God, you look fucking hot,” he adds with a chuckle. Just as you go to reply, the waitress returns with your drinks. You give a cursory thanks and take a long sip, full flavour swirling in your mouth. “You know, I wouldn’t have put you down as a dry wine kind of girl,” Matty remarks. “Sweet little thing like you.”

You flush the colour of your wine, but meet his gaze in challenge. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“I’d like to,” he says immediately, and you swallow thickly, his ability to disarm you frustratingly constant. He’s so fucking perfect, it’s actually disgusting. As you’re searching for a response, he perks up, tilting his head to tune into the song playing quietly over some unseen speaker. “Oh, man, I haven’t heard this song in forever,” he gasps, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “I was obsessed with this one when I was younger. Used to be on my band’s setlist and everything.”

Your jaw drops. “You were in a band?” you demand. “Were you any good?”

Matty chuckles. “I’d like to think so. S’a shame it didn’t pan out, really. I would’ve made a great rockstar, don’t you think?” he smirks, visions of Matty clad in a leather jacket, sweaty and gorgeous, crooning into a microphone swimming across your vision.

“Fuck, yeah. I’d have hated fighting your hordes of fangirls for your attention, though,” you sigh, and his grin widens as you stroke his ego. “Were you the guitarist?” you ask, memories of his calloused hands ghosting over your skin.

He scoffs, insulted. “I was the frontman, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you repeat, teasingly blowing smoke in his face as you stub out your cigarette. “But you still play?”

“Yeah,” Matty says, smiling wistfully, the expression taking years off him so clearly that you can almost see the ambitious, idealistic boy he must have been. You hope there’s a world where the band worked out for him, even if it means you’d never have met. “S’just a hobby, though,” he shrugs, interrupting your reverie. “You should hear my mate Hann, he’s fucking wicked.”

Taking a sip of your wine, you sigh meaningfully. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the guitar.” You lean purposefully on the words, and Matty grins.

“You want me to teach you?”

You smile blithely. “Oh, please. I can sight read sheet music and everything, I’d be such a good student, Professor,” you add, smirking as he stiffens slightly.

“Oh, behave,” he scolds lightly, tugging at his

collar as if he’s sweating at your words. 

“Make me,” you giggle, meeting his eyes in challenge.

“You know I will, princess,” he says seriously, your skin prickling hot as he watches you, daring you to break first. You’re saved from having to, though, by the same waitress coming to take your order. Not even having picked up the food menu, you let Matty order for you, trusting his taste. 

As it turns out, his taste is impeccable, down to the steak being cooked exactly the way you like. “God, this is fucking delicious,” you exclaim, digging in eagerly. “This place is amazing,” you add, unable to keep the beaming smile off your face. You chat back and forth for a couple of hours, asking about his family and his childhood, cooing at the stories he tells. If anyone were listening, they’d probably be nauseated by your obscene flirting, getting bolder as Matty continues plying you with wine even as he switches to water.

The same waitress returns, the false cheer bright in her tone as she offers you dessert menus. “No, thanks,” you say without taking your eyes off Matty. “We have dessert at home.” You flash your teeth in a grin so there can be no mistaking your meaning.

Matty picks up the bill, and you don’t even pretend to protest. It’s been years since you’ve been on a date you didn’t have to pay for, guys your age from your circles unusually stingy, and you feel guilty expecting broke college boys to pay for you. And it’s only feminist to split the bill with another girl, anyway. “Dessert, yeah?” he smirks as you slide into the passenger seat, and you squirm.

“I promise I’m just as sweet,” you tease. “Take me to yours and I’ll show you exactly how sweet I can be.”

Matty clicks his tongue. “I don’t think so,” he says, and your stomach sinks. “Good girl like you shouldn’t put out on the first date, or didn’t your daddy teach you any better?” he says, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

God, he’s a fucking tease. “You didn’t teach me anything like that, Daddy,” you pout. “You can’t get me all needy looking this hot and not let me have you. S’not fair.” You fold your arms, sulking.

“Oh, angel,” he tuts. “Not figured it out, yet? I don’t have to be fair.” And with that, your fate is sealed, Matty dropping you home and leaning over for a chaste kiss that he resists your attempts to deepen. “I’ll see you soon, princess. You know where to find me,” he promises, your eyes not leaving him until his car turns the corner and disappears from view.

You slope inside, disappointed and unsatisfied, plagued with the thought of where you could be right now if Matty had taken you home with him. Your father’s car is in the drive, and you groan to yourself, utterly uninterested in explaining yourself. Of course, you’re expected to anyways. “Where have you been?” your mother demands, and you fold your arms. If she’d asked out of curiosity, genuine interest, it would be different, but she only wants to know so she can approve or disapprove, sneering consternation written across her face.

“Out,” you say shortly, thick tension pulling taut between you.

“With who?” she asks, lips pursed.

“A friend,” you snap. “God, Mum, I went out for lunch, what’s it to you? I’m a grown-ass woman, I shouldn’t have to ask my mummy for permission to leave the house!”

“Language!” she exclaims, and you roll your eyes and push past her, storming up the stairs and slamming the door, finally breathing easy when the lock on your door forms a decisive barrier between you and your parents. Left alone, it doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift back to Matty and the ache he left between your thighs. You wonder if he’s home yet, if he’ll want to hear your voice, or if it’s too soon.

You war with yourself for a few minutes, but your desire wins out, calling Matty up and laying back against your pillows. “Hello, darling.” He picks up on the second ring. “Missing me already?”

“Mhm,” you murmur, the mere sound of his voice sending a pulse of desire thrumming through you. “Thinkin’ about you. About how you got me all needy.”

He laughs darkly. “God, what am I going to do with you? Naughty girl can’t even keep her hands to herself for an hour. Are you getting wet for me, angel?”

“Yes,” you moan happily, thrilled to get what you want. “I need you.”

“You beg so pretty, baby,” he coos, grunting softly, and you can just picture him, cock half-hard in his palm as you hear the rustle of clothes dropping to the floor. “C’mon, tell Daddy what you want.”

You whimper, dipping your hand under your waistband, slick pooling against your fingertips. “Wish you were touching me,” you moan. “Could’ve brought me home with you. Could’ve bent me over anywhere you wanted, stuffed me full and fucking used me.”

“Such a slut,” Matty murmurs, faint, slick sounds echoing from the other end of the call as he grunts rhythmically. The image of him makes you dizzy, fisting his cock messily, hips thrusting into his hand. You moan quietly, rubbing slow, tight circles into your clit. “Are you touching yourself?” You murmur an affirmative. “Stop.” Your blood runs cold, like you’ve been doused in ice water.

“Wh- What?” you hiss, disbelieving.

“You heard me, darling. I told you, good girls don’t put out on the first date. Daddy’s teachin’ you manners, yeah?”

“That’s not fair, Daddy,” you whine again. “Don’t need you to tell me when I can get off. Managed just fine before you came along,” you add petulantly.

Matty just laughs. “Okay, baby. I’m sure you did. You could hang up this call right now, get yourself off all on your own. But you won’t,” he says, smugly confident. “You know why? Because Daddy knows what’s best for brats like you. And, really, you just wanna be my good, sweet, dumb little girl, don’t you, angel?”

Thick, choking lust envelops you, crushing the air from your lungs as you find yourself whimpering, “Yes, Daddy. Won’t touch anymore,” you say, your mouth moving without your brain’s say-so.

Your body hums with energy, tense with the knowledge you won’t be allowed to release it. “Good girl,” Matty croons, your chest warming at the praise. “Still gotta punish you for bein’ a brat, though,” he adds, through a soft moan. “Don’t want you touchin’ that pretty cunt without my permission, ‘kay?” Your stomach sinks, arousal flaring impossibly in your gut.

“Okay, Daddy. I’ll be good,” you promise, his appreciative moan sending heat spiralling between your legs. You stay on the call until the sound of Matty spilling into his fist fills your ears, leaving you sticky and fucking throbbing with need. It takes you what feels like forever to get your breathing under control enough that your legs will stop shaking to carry you to the shower. You gasp as you plunge into the freezing cold spray, barely enough to quench the fire rolling through your veins. Unable to resist, you text Matty a picture of yourself when you step out, the steam on the mirror teasingly blurring your wet, naked body.

And that is the last time you hear Matty’s voice for an entire fucking week. There always seems to be some obstacle, a friend’s birthday, or a dinner you’re not invited to, or both of you are up to your eyeballs in pointless, mind-numbing work. You’d almost think he was avoiding you, if not for your constant back-and-forth over text and Matty’s incessant pleas for you to visit him at the office. You resist for a while, terrified of being caught and what that would mean for this… thing… that’s blooming between you, still fragile and new.

But it’s driving you fucking crazy, and you miss him, so after a week, you find an excuse; because you’re a good, dutiful daughter, you’re bringing your father lunch to share after he cancelled your meal out yesterday. You zone out after the same five minutes of talking in circles, giving automatic, robotic responses you know he wants to hear. It would be a lie to say you didn’t breathe a sigh of relief when the lift doors ding shut, carrying you up to Matty’s office. You haven’t told him you’re coming, hoping your presence will be a welcome surprise. What you hadn’t counted on, though, was his bleach-blonde secretary, idly tapping on her keyboard and actively standing in your way.

Your heart sinks. She’s pretty, unbelievably so, and barely older than you. If Matty hasn’t already had her, which you doubt, it’s crossed his mind. What if that’s what he’s been doing, all those times he’s complained about leaving the office late? A vision of her spread out on his desk fills your mind, Matty crooning his sweet, filthy words into her ear as her chest heaves. Her boobs are fake, you decide, your gaze flickering to them. It’s not humanly possible for a pair of tits to be that big and perky at the same time. Pushing down the jealousy roiling in your gut, you step up to her desk. Her eyes sweep over you, unimpressed, and she purses her lips.

You push your shoulders back, letting the snotty, spoiled brat who’s never been told no free, a snide grin spreading across your features. It feels fucking good to exercise that facet of your personality again, having tamped down on it since you went to uni — makes it easier to play well with others. Impatiently, you click your fingers in front of the woman’s face. “I’m here to see Mr. Healy,” you say with a saccharine smile. Sure, you could just call him and tell him you’re outside, but this is so much more fun. Especially now that you get to mess with her head, too. Matty’s never fucked her, but she wants him to, you can tell by the way her face falls when she sees you. Good, you think vindictively. Maybe blondes don’t have more fun. Not with him, at least.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asks, voice nasally and grating.

You sigh, like she’s asking you a ridiculous question. “No, but he’ll want to see me, trust me. Tell him… Tell him Angel is here, yeah?” She looks at you, sceptical and detached. “My parents were hippies, what can you do?” you shrug, raising your eyebrows and flicking your fingers patronisingly at her, as if to say go on. Your gazes lock in a battle of wills for a brief moment, but you grin victoriously when she picks up her phone.

“Hello, sir. There’s a girl out here asking to see you.” The way she says girl feels like a slur dripping from her overglossed lips. “Says her name’s Angel? She doesn’t have an appointment, I can send her away, if you like. Won’t be a problem.”

“No, no, send her in. And, for future reference, she’s welcome anytime, okay? No appointment necessary. Actually, I’ll come get her.” Matty’s voice is faint from the other end of the phone, but distinct enough that you can hear his words and the click as he sets the phone down. Seconds later, he emerges from his office, breaking into a wide grin at the sight of you. “Hello, angel,” he grins, kissing your cheek politely but lingering a little longer than appropriate. “Feels like it’s been forever. Come on in, yeah?” He takes you by the waist and leads you to his office, and you throw a smirk over your shoulder at the secretary as you go, a clear message: I win, you lose. “Oh, and Ruby? Nobody in my office for the next hour, alright?” She flushes as red as her name suggests, glaring at you furiously, trying to tell you this isn’t over. You ignore her, though, because you and Matty are finally alone.

“Only an hour?” you giggle. “You’re losing your touch, sir.”

“Oh, sir, hm? That’s new,” he teases as you perch on his desk, drinking in the sight of him with something dangerously close to relief.

You lean forward. “She wants you. So fucking badly,” you remark.

“I know,” he shrugs, loosening his tie with one hand and stroking your bare thigh with the other.

This time, you let the jealousy bubble up to the surface. “Have you ever fucked her?” You know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

Matty laughs. “Have you ever heard the expression, don’t shit where you eat?” he asks, and you wrinkle your nose and nod. “Well, that goes double for the young, hot blonde the company dangles in front of you like fucking bait, just waiting for you to cross a line.”

You’re starting to see red, his words nothing close to what you wanted to hear. “But you would. If she didn’t work for you.”

He shrugs. “Maybe.” He grips your hips, sliding you closer to him, dislodging stacks of paper and pens from his desk. “If I didn’t have you.” Then, his fingers creep higher, tantalisingly close to where you want them, and you push down the argument you were about to start. Giving up the best sex you’ve ever had isn’t worth it just because you got a little too possessive over someone who isn’t actually yours.

“She’d never be as good as me,” you say bitterly. “I don’t think a man like you would let a little red tape stop you if you actually wanted her. What’s wrong with her, really?”

Matty smirks. “Jealous girl,” he says smugly. “Don’t wanna talk about her when I could have this,” he adds, rubbing slow, teasing circles into your thigh. You whine softly, arching forward into his touch. “You’d be better than her, yeah? You wanna prove it?” You tilt your head quizzically. “Let’s say you’re my secretary, yeah, baby?”

A thrill runs up your spine. “Yes, sir,” you breathe. You slide off the desk to prop yourself in the chair opposite his, unbuttoning your blouse a little and leaning back with a smirk. “You wanted to see me, sir?” you say, playing up your wide, innocent eyes.

“Yes,” Matty says thoughtfully. “I think we need to discuss your behaviour in my office.” You bite your lip to clamp down on your grin, nodding seriously. “Always in those short little skirts, bendin’ over so you can show off those pretty, lace panties. You wear those for me, don’t you, baby?”

You smirk, popping the buttons of your blouse past decency. “You’re wrong, sir.” You spread your legs wide, and he chokes on his inhale. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

Matty groans, sweeping his desk clear, pens and paper scattering across the floor. “Bend over,” he orders sharply. “Now.”

You stand to obey, then pause. “Wait one second,” you say, darting around the desk so you’re face-to-face. “Just realised I haven’t done this yet.” You sling your arms around his neck and press your lips against his, kissing him hungrily and melting at his touch. Desperately, you try not to dissect the relief flooding your body from the point where his hands meet your skin. “Okay,” you say as you pull back, breathless. “M’ready now.”

Bracing your elbows on the desk, you bend over, baring your dripping cunt as Matty shoves your skirt up your thighs. “Spread your legs for me.” You obey, but he just growls and kicks them further apart, a shocked sound pulling free from your throat. “Wider,” he orders. “Not doin’ such a good job of convincing me you’d be so much better than her, you know,” he says, tone almost conversational if his nails weren’t digging into your hips so hard they’ll bruise. 

Angry, red-hot jealousy floods your veins, tangling cruelly with the ball of anticipation winding tight in your core. You can’t decide whether to go lax, let Matty have his good girl, or to fight against him for comparing you to her. It doesn’t take long for the brat to win out. “You want her so bad? Call her in, then,” 

You can practically hear Matty’s eyebrows raise, the realisation you won’t let him have this so easily setting in. “You want me to, baby?” He clicks his tongue. “I don’t think so. I think you’re jealous of the pretty girl who sits outside my office all day.” He reaches around to pop another button of your blouse. “And you’re scared of what I might be doing with her when you can’t see.” He pulls your shirt out of the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your shoulders. “So you want her to know exactly what we’re doing in here, so you can lay some kind of claim on me. Am I right?” Your mind spins as you try to think of a smartass response, thoughts jolted free from your head when Matty spanks you harshly. The crack of skin on skin might have been loud enough to be heard from outside, you think with a pulse of satisfaction. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are yes, sir or yes, Daddy, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan out, your cunt throbbing needily. “You’re right. Want her to see how good you fuck me, want her to know she could never make you feel as good as I do,” you say, the admissions stumbling one after another from your lips, unbidden.

“There’s my good girl,” he coos, your stomach clenching at the sound of his belt unbuckling, his zipper falling. “Such a little brat when you’re gagging for my cock, aren’t you, princess?” You nod furiously, whining as he teases your hole with the tips of his fingers. Desperate for friction, you grind back against them, weak, helpless moans tumbling from your lips. “Beg for it.” You choke on a gasp. “Go on, angel. You want my cock so bad? Beg for it.”

You don’t even have time to pretend to have dignity before wanton pleas spill free. “Fuck, Daddy, please! Want your cock so fucking bad, always make me feel so good, s’not the same when I do it myself,” you whine, giving a shuddering gasp when he teases your clit with the tip of his cock. “Please! I’m beggin’ you, Daddy, I’ll be good, I promise.”

Matty chuckles. “Alright, baby, alright,” he murmurs soothingly, lining himself up with your soaked entrance and sliding home so fast you’re gasping. Your knees buckle as you scramble for purchase on the desk, nails scraping against the varnished wood. “Oh, princess, it’s okay, Daddy’s here now,” he soothes, your cunt pulsing desperately around him. “Look at you, bein’ all sweet for me now you’re stuffed full. Such a dumb little slut, aren’t you, baby? Bet you wish you didn’t have to think about anythin’ except my cock.”

“Mhm,” you whine, arching your back as much as you can, your tits pressing against the cool wood of the desk. “M’just your stupid little slut, Daddy, please fuck me,” you beg, grinding back against him.

Matty’s hips slam suddenly against yours, a whining scream tearing from your throat as pleasure spills over in your veins. His hand comes down to cover your mouth, your body going limp against his. “Shh, princess. I’m at work, remember?” The reminder that fucking anyone could come to his door, know exactly what he’s doing to you, sends a thrill up your spine. “Can you be quiet, hm? Or do I need to make you quiet?” Another deep thrust draws a long, low moan from your throat, and he seems to have answered his own question. The fabric of his tie covers your mouth, spit leaking out around it. “There you go, angel. Nice and quiet for me. Bang on the desk if you need me to stop, okay?”

You nod, something that might be yes, Daddy coming out garbled around the gag. Matty fucks into you brutally, your chest heaving as ecstasy burns under your skin. “Good girl,” he coos. “Good, sweet girl. Takin’ my cock so well, princess. Such a pretty toy for your Daddy.”

Matty sets a bruising pace, your tongue pushing against his tie as it holds back your pathetic little noises. Your tits press against the desk, the sharp tip of a pencil digging into your bare stomach. You barely feel it, unconscious of anything but Matty’s skin against yours. “God, you feel so fucking good, princess. Daddy’s girl, aren’t you? Why would I ever want another girl when I’ve ruined you so perfect for me? Look at you, good little girl gagged and bent over my desk like a whore.” You moan, filthy words washing over you, sliding down your throat, sticky, wet pleasure dripping out of you.

You’re dizzy with lust, dazed and drooling, ecstasy spiralling through your bones. You can’t even think, Matty fucking all coherence out of you, every thrust clouding your mind more and more. Garbled moans fall from your lips in a filthy, spit-slick string, Matty’s rhythmic grunts swirling deliciously around your head. The calloused pads of his fingers find your clit, euphoria scorching in your bloodstream at the scrape over your swollen nerves. Your legs feel like jelly, melting hot and sweet under Matty’s touch. “You’re close, aren’t you, baby? Can feel your pretty cunt squeezin’ me so tight, princess. You wanna cum for Daddy?”

A few more rough circles over your clit, one more deep, spearing thrust and you break, wailing around the gag. “Good girl,” Matty croons, fucking you through as stars shatter behind your closed lids. Liquid ecstasy melts your bones, glueing you to the desk. Matty groans your name, cock pulsing as he spills inside you, a sound that’s pure desire falling from his lips. Still inside you, he unties the gag, letting it fall onto the desk as you draw a deep breath. “How are you feeling, angel?”

“So good,” you murmur, voice scratchy from disuse, whining as he pulls out of you. “Always make me feel so good, Daddy,” you add, letting Matty flip you around and set you on the desk, his eyes falling to your glistening core. Cum drips obscenely from you, puddling sticky and wet on his desk, a filthy smirk crossing his face.

“Good girl. So pretty for me, darling.” He tucks himself away, and once his belt is buckled he’s the picture of professionalism while you sit in front of him, sex-rumpled and half-naked and panting. “First girl I’ve ever fucked in here, you know,” he adds, so offhand you’d almost miss it if it it hadn’t made your heart jump into your throat. You can’t make head or fucking tail of him, one minute taunting you with his pretty secretary, the next swearing that you’re special. “M’sorry, darling, I don’t have much in here to clean you up with,” he says with a soft laugh, wiping a tissue through your folds and crooning soothingly when you whimper.

“S’okay. Was worth it,” you say. Your limbs feel tired and heavy, your eyelids drooping as you glance at the time and realise half your allotted hour is gone.

“You tired, sweet girl?” he asks with a soft, fond chuckle.

“Yeah,” you yawn. “You wore me out. Wish we were in bed. That was the best sleep of my life,” you confess, huffing a soft laugh.

You shudder as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch careful and tender. “Soon, princess, I promise. I’m sorry we haven’t seen each other. Missed you,” he says, and the admission melts in your chest, glueing your organs together and squeezing tightly. You sigh, the question on the tip of your tongue dissolving like a sugar pill as your resolve shatters. “How’s your week been, angel? Your friend’s birthday, right?”

You swallow a grimace. Isobel is hardly your friend, in the same way your parents aren’t friends, but you run in the same circles so proximity forced you into something resembling friendship. “Oh, the usual,” you say idly, twirling a curl that’s sprung loose from the gel in his hair around your finger. “Drinks, drugs, boys,” you tease, grinning when his jaw clenches. So he can dish it out but not take it? Interesting. 

“Did you talk to any boys, princess?” he asks, eyes glittering dangerously.

Shrugging airily, you kick your legs where they dangle off the desk. “So what if I did?” you challenge. The next words wrench themselves free of your mouth, tasting bitter as they fall. “We’re only fucking, it’s not like you actually own me. If I want to fuck someone else, are you gonna stop me?”

The question hangs thick and acerbic in the air between you and Matty swallows visibly. “No,” he says after a pause. “You can fuck whoever you want, princess. Won’t be as good as me, though, and you know it,” he says, smug and acrid.

The air between you is tense, horribly charged and all wrong, and you can feel tears prickling at the back of your throat. “I should get going,” you say abruptly, getting to your feet. “I’ll see you soon,” you add, not looking back at him as you cross the room.

“Say hi to Ruby on your way out, yeah?” Matty says, something close to a sneer in his voice. As you open the door, though, you paste on a blithe smile and relax your shoulders for Ruby’s benefit. 

“Hope it’s not you who has to clean up in there,” you smirk as you pass. “Made a bit of a mess,” you giggle, savouring the way Ruby’s face shifts in colour as she swallows her grimace.

And so you leave Matty’s office more confused about what he wants than when you fucking came in. Something shifts between you after that. Your words don’t change, Matty just as syrupy-sweet as ever, but the difference is palpable, sugared words souring as you digest them. He gets even more possessive while you fuck, more degrading, insisting you’re such a little slut, baby. Whoring yourself out to every fucking boy who looks at you, but you always come runnin’ back to your Daddy, yeah?

But it’s not always angry and mean. Sometimes, it’s slow and so sweet you could swear it’s loving, Matty lavishing you with praise, murmurs of that’s right, such a good girl and Daddy’s girl, so pretty for me soaking into your skin and tying themselves in knots around your brain. Some nights, especially recently, you don’t even fuck when you go to his place. Being there is a comfort, away from catty friends and overbearing parents, somewhere you can just be. Last night, you’d suddenly realised you kind of just weren’t in the mood, apologising and making to leave, and he’d just kissed your temple, pulled you in close and asked what your favourite movie was. And you started to believe. And then you’ll go out for drinks, so much as mention a boy’s name; he’ll toss a jab about some pretty young girl he works with, and you’re right back where you started, tearing each other apart at the seams. 

You’re this close to ripping your fucking hair out, sick to death of bottling it all up when you finally decide you need to unload on someone. “I just don’t get him,” you complain, your best friend Thea making sympathetic noises at all the right moments. “One minute it’s all you’re my girl and my pretty baby, the next it’s such a whore, bet you’d let anyone fuck you.”

“But you’re still sleeping at his place?” Thea asks, judgement obvious in her tone.

You groan. “Yes, leave me alone! If you saw the state I’m in after, you’d understand.”

Thea clicks her tongue. “And you haven’t actually fucked anyone else?”

“No,” you admit, defeated. “Don’t know if I could, to be honest.”

“Does he know that? Has he?”

“No and I don’t know. I just don’t know where I fucking stand, and I can’t ask. He’ll think I’m some pathetic little girl who can’t handle it, I know it.”

“You know what you need? You, me, a pair of slutty little dresses, and those fancy cocktails with about twelve kinds of alcohol in them from 102. I’m not taking no for an answer, I’ll see you at ten.”

And, true enough, at eleven you’re clutching a gin bowl for dear life and screeching along to the song thumping through the club’s speakers. “I need a refill, c’mon!” you shout in Thea’s ear, dragging her off to the bar where you can hear slightly better.

Despite the queue, the bartender stops in front of you with a smile. “Love that dress. What can I get for you?” You scan the menu, brow scrunching in a frown, but your words die in your throat as the bartender steps into slightly better light and you take her in properly. She’s a fucking goddess, model-pretty with thick, dark hair and long-lashed brown eyes. 

Thea swats your arm and you realise your gaze has drifted down, and you pull it back up to where she’s waiting with a smirk. “You’ve— The menu’s changed. I used to get a Sucker,” you manage to get out around the lump in your throat.

“Alright,” she says cryptically. “And you?”

Thea shrugs. “I’ll have what she’s having, I’m not picky.”

She laughs. “Oh, no. You two do not pick the same poisons. I’ve got this, okay?” Slightly entranced, you watch her work, setting something golden and glittering in front of you. “Sunshine Baby,” she says with a wink. “And for you… Antichrist.”

Thea takes her swirling, dark drink with a delighted grin. “She was into you,” she teases, nudging you with her hip.

“Oh, please, she wanted a tip.” The pair of you find a table, one with a prime view of the DJ booth so you can ogle the hot, blond DJ as he whips the crowd into a frenzied mass of sweating bodies. You keep returning to the same bartender, whose name you learn is Charli, and she keeps plying you with free shots for hot girls and increasingly strong drinks, until you find yourself stumbling onto the dancefloor and losing track of Thea.

Your head feels light, your body loose in a way it hasn’t been in weeks, the alcohol dampening your coherent thoughts. A pair of hands find your waist, and you twist your head back to meet the eyes of their owner. He couldn’t be further from Matty if he tried; your age, for one, tall, willowy and blond. The kind of man you’d usually never have looked twice at. But maybe that’s exactly what you need right now, you think, grinding your hips back against his with a grin. “Can I get your number?” he asks, pulling you free of the dancefloor, sweaty and flushed and smiling freely. After a long moment of consideration, Matty’s warning gaze flashing in your mind, you smirk and give it to him. “Let me take you out. You free Thursday?”

His overconfidence is jarring, and you swallow a frown. “I don’t know,” you tease. “Maybe. Why don’t we get back out there and you can convince me?” You obviously aren’t going to fucking go. Even as drunk as you are, you know that. Whatever this thing with Matty is, it’s serious to you, and you know the pair of you need to untangle it. But, for now, you shove it to the back of your mind, distracting yourself with free shots from a pretty boy, your head spinning wildly by the time you find Thea.

She might even be drunker than you are, stumbling and slurring as you bundle her into a taxi; she lives on the other side of town to you, so it doesn’t make sense to share. “Go, I’ll be fine,” you insist. “There’ll be another one in a minute, okay? Bye! Love you!” you shout as the car pulls away, Thea’s slightly green-tinged face hanging out of the open window. Left alone, you suddenly realise just how drunk you are, your vision blurred as you slump to the curb. When ten minutes pass without a taxi appearing, panic starts to set in; it’s too close to closing time and you’re too drunk, 102 won’t let you back in, and it’ll be the same story anywhere up and down the street. You’re alone in the dark, bile rising in your throat as you do the only thing you can think of and dial Matty.

“Hello?” he says, voice gruff with sleep. “Bit late to be calling, darling. Can’t sleep? Need some help to relax?” he adds, his smirk audible.

Your voice wavers as you speak. “M’sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” you say, choked with the effort of holding back tears. “I can’t call my parents, I don’t have any fucking friends who’d care, there’s no taxis, I—” you cut yourself off with a hysterical gasp.

Matty shushes you soothingly. “Baby. Baby, breathe. Breathe for me, okay?” You try your best to obey, drawing deep, hiccuping breaths, shuddering harshly on the exhale. “What’s wrong, love?” You stumble your way through an explanation, babbling profuse apologies, mortification creeping up your spine. “Darling, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry. Where are you?”

“102,” you sniffle. “It’s—”

“I know the place. Sit tight, okay? I’m getting in the car now, I’ll be there soon. I’ve got you, promise.” The wave of relief that floods your body when you finally spot Matty’s car pulling to a stop in front of you is near-crippling, and you’d have collapsed when he wraps his arms around you if he wasn’t supporting your weight. “Oh, baby. Sweet girl, it’s okay. I’m here now. I’ve got you,” he repeats soothingly, only pulling away when you stop swaying on your feet. “God, you smell like the floor of a dive bar,” he teases, and you chuckle weakly. “C’mon, angel. Let’s get you in bed, yeah?”

You murmur another apology as you slide into the passenger seat, and he waves it away with a smile. “Hey, my house is the left back there,” you say, the cool night air having snapped you back to yourself a little.

“I know,” Matty says quietly. “I’m not sending you back there alone, darling. Promised I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he says, his hand on your thigh gently calming instead of teasing.

“Thank you,” you mumble, looking down at your lap as Matty parks the car in his drive.

“Any time, angel. I’m serious. I’m glad you called. Don’t ever want you to think I won’t be here if you’re not okay.” And fuck if that sickening, chaotic mess of feelings doesn’t just bubble right back up to the surface. He leads you into the kitchen, your body curled into his to steady yourself. “I’ll get you something to eat, okay?”

You shake your head. “Mm-mm. You’re already doing too much. And I won’t keep it down, anyway,” you say, pressing a hand to your roiling stomach. “I just need to lie down.” You start to wander into the living room, and Matty grabs your wrist gently. 

“You need to eat something, darling. Drink some water, sleep in a bed,” he adds insistently. You let him fuss over you, plying you with a slice of toast and a glass of water, and you tuck yourself into his chest as he carries you up to bed. Dressed in one of his well-worn shirts, his familiar scent fills your lungs, comforting as he tucks himself into bed next to you.

“Thank you,” you repeat. “Can’t say it enough. Didn’t have to do all this, Matty. I would’ve been okay.”

“Don’t want you just okay,” he answers. “Want you feeling good, and safe, and happy. Get some sleep, love, m’here.” You close your eyes obligingly, but your drunken haze lifting has set your thoughts free, spinning like a coin set on its edge that just won’t fall. Your night plays back in sickening detail behind your lids, the memory of the boy’s hands on you bringing bile up your throat. Laying in Matty’s bed without having been thoroughly exhausted first always plays with your sanity, your brain wandering to places you know it shouldn’t go as he sleeps peacefully next to you.

The sun is coming up by the time you give up on sleep, hoping Matty’s rhythmic breathing means he won’t hear you trying to sneak away. No such luck, though. “Where you goin’, sweetheart?” he asks, and you feel a stab of guilt at interrupting his sleep yet again.

“Home. I’ll get out of your hair, now. Thank you again,” you say quietly.

“Baby. Princess. Come here, come back here,” Matty says, and he looks so sweet and earnest, sleep-soft and smiling, that you obey, and you can’t help the happy little sigh that escapes you as he pulls you close.

Shame burns hot through you as you remember the previous night all over again, and you can’t stop yourself from blurting out, “A boy asked me on a date last night.”

Matty’s hand tightens on your hip. “What did you say?” he asks, voice low with warning.

You sigh, steeling yourself to look into his eyes. “What do you want me to have said? you answer, and he blinks, confusion written across his features. “What is this, Matty? Because if this is casual, if you just want a shiny young girl on your arm for a few months, it’s fine by me,” you lie, pushing down the nausea that pools at your words. “But if this is just fun, we should be allowed to see other people — are you seeing other people?” you ask, tension winding between your shoulder blades as you prepare for the answer. 

“No,” Matty practically growls. “And I’m not fucking anyone else, either, before you ask. I haven’t in weeks.” He huffs a laugh. “I tried, the day I met you, tried to get you out of my head ‘cause I didn’t think I’d get to have you.” His thumb rubs gentle circles into your hip, his touch comforting as his words soak in, a soothing balm to your nerves. “Didn’t fucking work. Couldn’t stop picturing you instead,” he confesses. “You’re in my head, princess. M’sorry I let my little strop go on so long. Thinkin’ about some other man touching you was driving me crazy. I was bein’ selfish. If you want to see other people, I—”

“I don’t,” you interrupt. “Only want you.”

He breaks out in a wide grin. “Pictured this being a bit more romantic, but,” Matty pinches your hip gently, and you giggle, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “You’re my girl, yeah? Properly mine.”

“Yeah,” you say, practically glowing as you smile back at him. “As long as you’re mine.”

He threads a hand into your hair, kisses you like breathing is a choice, licking eagerly into your mouth as you melt against him. “What are you gonna say if another boy asks you on a date, princess?”

“I have a boyfriend,” you beam, just using the word making your heart warm. The tangled knot that’s sat in your belly for weeks now blissfully untied, your body feels loose and happy and willing. “I’m gonna have a shower, okay, then I’ve gotta thank you properly, yeah?”

A filthy smirk pulls at Matty’s lips. “I like the sound of that.” You giggle, pressing a kiss to his nose before climbing off him.

“You would,” you tease, padding into the bathroom and running the shower. You luxuriate under the water for several long, glorious minutes, the water pressure melting the last lingering tension between your shoulders. The smell of the club lingers in your hair until you scrub it with Matty’s expensive shampoo, the smell familiar as you work your fingers over your scalp, lingering like you’ll be able to absorb him through your skin. You towel your hair mostly dry, despite your insistence that Matty was committing a cardinal sin by doing the same, and wander back into the bedroom still naked and dripping wet.

Matty chokes on a gasp. “Fuck. Hi, gorgeous.” The praise heats your cheeks and you kneel at the foot of his bed, clasping your hands behind your back.

“Hi, Daddy,” you say sweetly. “I said I’d thank you properly. Gonna show you what a good girl I can be. Best girl you’ll ever have.” Matty smirks, sitting up to give himself a better view. “Can do whatever you want with me. All day long.” He smirks, dirty and sleazy and delicious, and pats the sheets next to him.

“C’mere, princess. Up you get.” You scramble to obey, sighing happily when he tangles his legs with yours and kisses you slow and deep. His hardness presses against your thigh as you make out, his hands wandering to your ass and squeezing. “God, so perfect, darling,” he praises. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“Yours,” you whimper into his mouth, almost deliriously happy. His kiss is almost ferocious, hungry and devouring, desire coiling under your skin. “Daddy, please. Want you so bad,” you murmur.

Matty laughs. “Patience, angel. Thought you were gonna be good?” he says, but it’s light and teasing, without any of the underlying meanness that might have laced his tone a week ago. You relax, tension unspooling in your belly as you put your trust in him. His hands skim over your body, somehow both gentle and working you into a frenzy. A litany of pathetic little whimpers fall from your lips as you squirm under his hands, Matty smirking into the kiss. “Sweet, needy baby,” he croons. “Missed havin’ you all sweet for me. M’sorry I was so mean, princess. Gonna make it up to you, I swear.” His fingers finally find your clit, heat welling between your thighs. It takes a Herculean effort to stay still, not react beyond your involuntary gasp, but the proud little smile on Matty’s face is worth it. “Good girl. Tell Daddy what you want, angel.”

You nod, swallowed in hazy pleasure as he rubs slow circles over your clit. “Want you to fuck me,” you choke out, your throat closing in overwhelming arousal.

Matty rolls on top of you, connecting your lips in a messy kiss. “Of course, baby. You okay like this? Wanna watch your pretty face while I fuck you.”

“Please,” you breathe. Matty doesn’t tease, just rubs gentle circles over your clit as he enters you, moaning softly into your mouth. Your hips roll, desire pooling under your skin as he fucks you slow and deep.

“God, missed havin’ you like this,” he breathes, his head falling into your shoulder. “Oh, darling, I know, I know. Daddy’s here, I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs as you whimper softly, languid, bone-deep pleasure rolling over you. Matty’s eyes are liquid with affection, his lips curving into an unconscious smile.

His lips find yours again, your tongues sliding together as punched-out gasps fall from your lips in time with his smooth, measured thrusts. It’s immeasurably intense, Matty playing your body like a symphony, and you’re powerless to do anything but whine and writhe. “Thank you s’much, Daddy. Feels so fucking good,” you whimper, locking your legs around his waist. The change in angle is glorious, ecstasy winding through your bloodstream as Matty rubs circles into your clit.

“Good girl,” Matty murmurs, “Such a good girl for Daddy. My girl, my fucking girl. Wish I could keep you all sweet and cockdrunk for me all the fuckin’ time. Fuckin’ wish I could have you as my little kept girl, have this pussy at home waitin’ for me every fuckin’ night,” he groans, the familiar fantasy spiralling through your mind. He murmurs soft, sugary words into your ear, liquid desire melting your brain until you’re sure it must be dripping from your ears, soaking the sheets under your hair. “So, so pretty, darling. Look so gorgeous while I’m fucking you, god.”

You glow at the praise, heat thrumming under your skin as his hips meet yours over and over. You’re practically delirious, lost in thick, syrupy pleasure, the lewd sound of skin meeting filling the room. “Mmh, oh, my God, fuck—” you gasp, pleasure coiling tight in your belly as you dig your nails into his back. “M’gonna cum, Daddy, oh, my God, need it s’bad. Wanna cum, wanna make you cum, shit. Need to feel it, need you to fill me up, make me yours, God, please!”

“Fuck, such a good girl,” Matty gasps, his rhythm faltering as he gets closer. “Can hold on for me, just for a second, yeah? Wanna cum together,” he adds, and you whine, rolling your hips up against him and trembling with the effort of holding your orgasm at bay. He fucks into you with deep, sloppy thrusts, moaning into your mouth and pinching your clit. Garbled moans of fuck and yes and Daddy stumble from your lips, sticky, hot desire dripping from your cunt as you writhe under him. “Fuck, princess, you ready?” Matty gasps against your lips.

“Yeah, m’ready, Daddy, c’mon. Cum in me, fill up this slutty little pussy. M’yours, your good girl, your little cumdump. God, need it s’bad,” you moan, breaking into a whine as Matty spills inside you with a groan. Your orgasm follows a split-second later, moaning against Matty’s mouth with stardust glittering in your veins. Euphoria scorches under your skin, your head floating clear of your body as pleasure floods you, gasping and moaning. “Thank you,” you say dopily, smiling up at him as he pulls out. You widen your legs to watch his cum dripping out of you, pooling obscene and sticky on the mattress.

Matty watches you with a laugh. “Little cumslut,” he says fondly.

“Your little cumslut,” you smirk, stretching out your sore muscles. “When I said anything you want, I meant anything,” you grin. “Want me to be your little kept girl? Cook and clean for you while you look all pretty and important?”

He chuckles. “First of all, I’ve seen what you think passes for a meal, princess. Don’t know how you haven’t poisoned yourself.” You swat his shoulder, laughing. “Second of all, if you can stand right now, I haven’t worked hard enough,” he says, a smirk pulling at his lips. 

“You’re lucky I like you cocky,” you tease, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and testing your weight on your feet as you stand. Matty catches you as you stumble slightly, I told you so written plainly on his face. “Don’t,” you warn, before it can leave his mouth.

“Y’know, I think I like the sound of having a little housewife for the day,” he grins, your stomach tying itself in a knot at the word wife from his lips. “C’mon, sweet girl, I’m sure we can find something for you to occupy yourself with while you’re waitin’ for me to fuck you dumb again, huh?” he teases, your thighs clenching at the words. You bend to reach for your clothes, and he tsks softly. “Didn’t say you could get dressed, did I, angel?”

“No, Daddy. I won’t.” You swallow thickly, following him downstairs, feeling shockingly exposed in the glare of the sunlight pooling from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Matty’s cum trickles down your thighs as you hover beside him.

“Make us some tea, would you, darling?” he says, casual like you’re not naked and dripping cum on his pristine kitchen floor. “Shame you haven’t got a little apron, or something. Think I’d go a bit crazy, seein’ you in my kitchen dripping wet in nothing but an apron and a smile. Gotta teach you how to cook someday, if you wanna be my kept girl,” he continues, still maddeningly conversational as your cunt pulses wantonly at his words. “Tea, darling? Or have I got you too dumb for that without even touching you?” he teases.

Almost mechanically, you fill the kettle and flick it on, dropping a teabag into a mug for him and wrinkling your nose unsubtly. “Can I have a coffee? I don’t do tea.”

Matty laughs. “Course, princess. Want you to make yourself at home. Coffee’s just down there.” He points to a cupboard near your feet, stroking over the curve of your ass as you bend over. You don’t realise his game until you scan the contents of the cupboard and find nothing but pots and pans, and his fingers are tracing your messy, sensitive cunt. “Oops, did I say down?” he deadpans, reaching above your head to open another cupboard. “I meant up.”

“Perv,” you tease, retrieving the tin of coffee as the kettle whistles.

“Can’t help it,” he murmurs, dipping his head to kiss softly at your neck and jaw. “Too fucking gorgeous. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

You giggle, breaking his hold to pour your drinks. “Can’t believe it took us this long. We’re idiots, kind of.”

“A bit,” he chuckles, accepting his tea and taking a sip. “So, what did you say? To that boy?” he asks, and you roll your eyes.

“No, obviously. Felt so guilty taking his number. Deleted it in the car,” you admit, staring into your coffee to avoid his gaze.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Knew nobody could fuck you like me, right? Nobody could treat you as good?”

You flush, setting your drink down and hopping up onto the counter, crossing your legs behind his back as he crowds into your space. “No, Daddy. Only you, I promise.”

Matty cups your jaw. “That’s right, princess. All mine. And I’m yours,” he says, cupping your jaw and connecting your lips in a searing kiss, drinking in the taste of you as you pour your emotions into his mouth. “So perfect, such a perfect girl for me,” he says, sucking a bruise into your skin and working his way down. He presses kisses over your tits, one hand coming up to play with a peaked bud as he wraps his lips around the other. You whine, arching your back and pushing against his attentions, a low buzz of pleasure growing in the back of your skull. “Love these tits so much, baby. So fucking perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, pressing a kiss in the valley of your breasts and tracing his fingers down, your muscles tensing at his touch. Desire whirls in your stomach, your head light and skin loose on your bones. He drops to his knees on the cool tile floor, kissing your knees as he spreads your legs wider, eyes blowing impossibly wider at the sight of your dripping cunt. “God, made such a mess of you, huh, princess? Want Daddy to get you cleaned up?”

“Please,” you gasp, threading a hand in his curls as he kisses the tender skin of your inner thigh. “Daddy, please. Want your mouth,” you whimper, moaning when his lips meet your slick skin. The pressure between your thighs is instant and familiar, mounting as Matty laps at your folds. He pulls off to bite at your thighs, scraping over his own fading bruises, faint pain tangling with pleasure under your overheated skin. His tongue is hungry as it fucks into you, his moans vibrating gloriously through you as you cling to the counter for dear life.

Your hips grind against his face, euphoria spiralling through you, stoking the fire low in your belly. “That’s it, princess. Gonna help Daddy get you off? My pretty little cockdrunk slut, need it all the time, right?” he murmurs, rubbing circles into your clit as he buries his tongue back into you. You can’t fucking think, everything in your brain drowned out by lips, tongue, teeth, Matty.

“Fuck, yes, Daddy, feels s’fucking good,” you whine, burying your hand in his curls and dragging him even closer, his tongue impossibly deep inside you as you clench around the muscle. Heat unspools in your belly, licking under your skin and setting your blood on fire, your hips rocking unbidden against his mouth. You cry out as Matty wraps his lips around your clit, pleasure-pain screaming from your still-sensitive nerves, all his attention focused on your swollen bud. “Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God,” you gasp, pulse jackhammering between your thighs, so fast you’re scared it’ll set off dynamite in your chest.

“Yeah?” Matty smirks up at you, his lips and chin soaked in your arousal. You’re close, embarrassingly so, his tongue sloppy and greedy as he devours your cunt. His quiet moans into your cunt are intensely gratifying, amplifying the ecstasy kicking wildly under your skin. “God, you’re so pretty fallin’ apart like this. Could live between these pretty thighs, princess.” In response, you tighten them around his head, savouring his little gasp as his tongue returns to your cunt, licking over your hole with fervour. Your eyes roll back in your head, swimming dizzily in ecstasy, your cunt throbbing with need.

Your entire body is tense, muscles clenched and expectant as Matty tongue-fucks you within an inch of your life. “M’so close, Daddy, wanna cum,” you whimper, chasing the pleasure that coils tight around your veins, your vision blurring as euphoria chokes you.

Matty circles his fingers over your clit, his callouses scraping deliciously over your tender skin. “Cum for me whenever you’re ready, princess. Wanna feel you fallin’ apart on my tongue. Sweetest fuckin’ girl in the world,” he murmurs, pulling your clit into his mouth and sucking hard, a scream tearing free from your throat. Molten desire pools in your belly, your body humming with energy begging to be released. “Come on, darling, let me hear you. Give me everything you’ve got,” he moans, your cunt dripping on his tongue.

“Oh, fuck, m’cumming, Daddy, fuck! Oh, God, feels s’good, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, pure pleasure breaking you wide open, your vision whiting out as Matty’s tongue curls deep inside of you. You throb around him, every muscle in your body suddenly jelly, his hands on your thighs the only thing anchoring you to reality. Matty gets to his feet with a smirk, wordlessly prising your jaw open and sliding his wet fingers into your mouth.

You wrap your fingers around his tongue, sucking and licking the taste of you off his skin and moaning softly. “Good girl. You look so fucking gorgeous when you cum, princess.” He catches your lips in a messy kiss, your slick on his tongue as it sweeps your mouth, his hands finding your hips and pulling you close. “You up for a little day out, angel? Wanna show off my pretty girl, make everyone jealous of me.”

You giggle. “I told you. Anything you want. If you want to bend me over and show the entire fucking world who I belong to, I’ll drop my panties right then and there, promise.”

Matty’s jaw clenches, nails digging into your hips. “Don’t want anyone else seeing you like that, ever,” he growls. “C’mon, princess, go and get dressed. Got a busy day planned,” he grins.

“When did you have time to plan a day out?” you scoff, hopping to your feet and heading back up the stairs.

“Wanted to take you out and ask you to be my girlfriend, but that part got wrecked. I still wanna spoil you, baby.” He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss into your hair.

You melt into his touch, leaning into him with a soft, private smile. “You’re too sweet,” you say, pulling away from him to step into your discarded underwear and jeans, turning to rifle through his drawers. After a few moments, you find what you were looking for, a shirt that must be a remnant of some distant, misspent youth; so small it’s almost your size, and it must have been cropped short on him because it barely brushes the hem of your jeans. “Did you actually wear this?” you laugh, turning this way and that as you admire how surprisingly well the shirt flatters you.

Matty laughs. “Told you, I was in a band in my twenties. Made some questionable fashion choices, but I made it work.”

Your eyes light up. “You have to show me. Please, I have got to see what you looked like when you fit into this,” you plead, and he scoffs.

“Nah. Looks better on you, anyway,” he says, sliding a pair of sunglasses over your eyes and kissing your cheek, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Have you got a jacket? It’s fucking cold, for June,” he comments, a poor attempt at sounding casual.

It’s not that cold, and he knows damn well you don’t have a jacket. “Hmm, nope.” You pop the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Guess I’ll have to borrow one of yours,” you say airily, as if that wasn’t his obvious fucking game all along. He slides a leather jacket over your shoulders, well-worn and smelling like him, and your reflection stops you dead. You look fucking hot. You look like a rich man’s scandalously young girlfriend, the graceful lines of him slotting perfectly into the picture. You snap a sweet photo of the two of you as he kisses your temple, and you giggle up at him.

“God, never gonna get over how gorgeous you look wearin’ my clothes, darling,” he murmurs, giving your ass a little smack and hurrying you into the car. His hand is familiar on your thigh as he drives, the warmth of his touch soaking into your skin and fizzing up in your chest. He presses kisses to your cheek at every red light, his gaze adoring every time it lands on you.

You share a lazy, light breakfast, trading kisses over pastries and coffee; yours heaped with cream and sugar and his bitter and black. Matty listens as you explain your friends’ petty little dramas, nodding or frowning at all the right moments but wise enough not to weigh in. He presses you against the car when you leave, digging one hand into your hair and the other into your waist and kissing the sugary-almond taste out of your mouth. “Pretty girl,” he praises, smiling as you flush. 

“Sweet boy,” you murmur, kissing his nose as he pulls back and opens the passenger-side door for you. “Such a gentleman,” you giggle, sliding into your seat. You fiddle with the radio, turning to him expectantly when the car stays in park. “Thought you had the whole day planned out?”

“I do,” he grins. “Just waitin’ for you to tell me where you like to shop, angel.” 

You smile, rattling off a list that comes as easily as breathing. “Are you gonna take me shopping?” you giggle as the engine purrs to life. “Won’t you get bored?”

“Nah,” he shrugs, reversing out of the car park. “I’ll be like the male lead in a romcom, carrying all your bags and following you like a lost puppy. It’ll be well funny,” he chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh, the image of him laden with shopping he’s paying for and wandering around a boutique looking slightly mystified frankly adorable.

“You’d make a good movie star. Just about pretty enough.” Matty gives an offended scoff and lights a cigarette, sulkily facing away from you as he takes a drag. An old favourite song crackles through the radio and you sing along, uninhibited and happy and maybe even a little in love.

Matty smiles at you indulgently as you start flipping through clothing racks, running your fingers through the fabric and musing which pieces already in your closet they’d pair well with. You pull out a pretty little summer dress, white and lacy with pink florals, and hold it up without looking at the price tag. “What do you think?” you grin, watching him picture you wearing it with a sleazy smile.

“If you want it, it’s yours,” he shrugs. “Go wild, princess.” Not one to look a gift horse, you take him at his word, draping the dress over your arm and fluttering off to flip through the skirts. A scandalously short leather mini catches your eye, and you hold it against your hips thoughtfully.

Matty’s jaw tightens unsubtly. “Oh, don’t be such a boy,” you tease. “I’ll model it for you later,” you add with a grin, and his hands fly to your waist and pull you in.

“Please don’t get me all worked up, sweetheart,” he pleads against your lips. “Don’t wanna have to cut this short because I had to bring you home and take what I need from you, do you?”

Your insides melt into liquid and you flush, heat slick under your skin. “Tempting,” you smirk. “Later tonight?”

His eyes darken, sparkling with allure. “I’m counting the minutes,” he murmurs against your lips, taking an inappropriately greedy handful of your ass and pressing his lips against yours.

Your knees go weak when Matty licks into your mouth, his tongue hedonistic and clever and sure. You indulge yourself in his kiss for a few moments, his body pressing against yours as he threads a hand into your hair. “Mmh, stop trying to distract me,” you say, voice slightly rough with desire. “I’m gonna bleed you dry, darling.”

Matty grins. “Do your worst, angel.”

And you certainly try your fucking hardest, piling his arms high with blouses and dresses and skirts; lipsticks and powders and creams; pumps and heels and sandals. When Matty starts dragging his feet, you take pity on him and pull him into the lingerie section, his jaw going slightly slack as he stares around; he looks vaguely guilty, like he’s been caught somewhere he shouldn’t.

You pluck a delicate, white corset off the rack, holding it up musingly. “How about this? Might be cute with one of those skirts?” Matty swallows thickly, clearly stuck for words that won’t get the pair of you banned from the store and maybe arrested for lewd behaviour.

“I like it.” He clears his throat. “A lot.”

You grin mischievously. “I have an idea, Daddy,” you murmur, the word a delicious taboo as it slips from your lips, scandalously inappropriate on the wide-open shop floor. “Should get yourself some presents, too. Pick some stuff out for me?”

A filthy smirk splits his face, and you shiver, a thrill running up your spine. Matty, it turns out, has extremely discerning tastes, at least when it comes to lingerie. Everything he chooses is carefully considered, holding the lace against your skin to consider the colour, the shape, the cut of the piece and how it’ll sit on your body. You end up heaped with a pile of bras and panties, corsets and teddies, babydoll dresses and chemises, slightly dizzy at the thought of dressing up in them for him.

“Think that’s more than enough to keep us both happy, don’t you, princess?” he grins, leading you to the counter. It takes aeons to get you rung up, and you feel a little faint at the sight of the total; it’s more than five thousand pounds. Matty doesn’t even look fazed, though, kissing you softly and swiping his card like it’s nothing. It’s maybe a little embarrassing, but you feel a faint tingle of arousal at him taking such a massive sum in stride.

You drape yourself across him as he loads your bags into the car, pressing grateful kisses anywhere you can reach. “Thank you, Daddy. Too good to me. Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

Matty smiles, wide and warm and so fucking sweet you can taste the honey dripping from his mouth. “Don’t need to, angel. Just let me spoil you. Like seein’ you happy after I was such a little bitch before. M’sorry, sweet girl.”

You laugh as you slide into the car beside him. “I’ve accepted worse apologies for worse things from far worse men. I think we’re more than even now.” You run your hand over his thigh, cupping his cock with a smirk. “How about I put on a little fashion show for you when we get back? Call it even when I can’t even remember my own name?”

He grins. “You are filthy,” he says delightedly, throwing on a burst of speed that pins you against the seat, suddenly desperate to get the pair of you into a bedroom. 

Matty’s mouth is ravenous on yours as soon as you’re alone, dropping the bags to grip your waist hungrily and pull you flush against him. “Mmh, hold on,” you say, breaking away regretfully. “Don’t you wanna see me all dolled up for you, Daddy?”

Groaning, Matty slides his hands down to your waist, spanking you when you bend over to retrieve your bags. A pulse of wanton arousal throbs stickily between your legs, an involuntary moan rumbling from your lips. “Pretty little slut,” he mumbles approvingly. “Wanna get that pretty ass all red for me, god.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you murmur, straightening up and leaning back against him. “Anything you want.” He follows you up the stairs, making himself comfortable on the bed as you slip into the bathroom and change. You primp and preen, experimenting with lip swatches and sparkling eyeshadow, switching out your outfit until you’re satisfied. 

Matty is waiting on the bed when you slip back into the room. The sight of him, his legs spread wide and clad only in boxers with one hand lazily palming his cock through the fabric, is almost enough to make you abandon your plans. “D’you like the skirt now, Daddy?” you ask, pulling the waistband down to reveal the scrap of deep-red satin clinging to your waist.

“Mmm, I don’t know if I’m quite convinced yet, princess,” he teases. “Think you should show me what it looks like off.”

A heavy pulse of want wells between your thighs, and you grin. “Let me put on a little show for you, first.” You cue up a carefully-curated playlist, swaying your hips in time with the beat and slowly peeling off your shirt. Matty’s breath catches at the sight of you, groaning low in his throat, the sound going straight to your cunt.

Turning and bending over right on cue, you shake your ass, flashing your panties under the skirt; Matty moans outright. “So gorgeous, princess. Gettin’ me so fucking hard, god,” he groans, and as you turn to face him, you’re treated to the sight of him freeing his cock, slowly pumping it and watching you intently. Your skirt slides to the floor as Matty fucks into his fist, delicious, gasping little moans tumbling from his lips. “Fuck, c’mere, please,” he pleads, gaze fixed on you as you stalk to the edge of the bed.

“Wanna sample the merchandise, huh?” you tease, straddling his lap and grinding down on his cock. Matty’s hands come up to your tits, palming and squeezing greedily as your head falls forward to meet his lips. You let him grope you for a few long, delicious minutes, his hands finding your hips, your waist, your ass and digging in. Then, you hop off his lap, and Matty whines. “I’ve still got more stuff to try on,” you grin, slipping away and changing into a sheer-white babydoll with a matching thong.

Matty chokes on air at the sight of you, and you smile angelically, kneeling at the foot of the bed. “God, gonna drive me crazy, darling. Need to fuck you so bad,” he groans, his cock flushed red and dripping as it disappears into his fist.

You giggle. “M’glad you picked this one, Daddy. D’you wanna know what I thought when I saw it?” He nods, dazed and practically drooling. “I thought, ‘That’s what I wanna wear around the house when I’m bein’ a good little housewife for my Daddy,’” you murmur, and Matty has a physical reaction, shuddering as his eyes go wide, the fantasy playing clear as day on his face.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans. “Angel. Darling. Sweet girl. Come here. Let me fuck you, please,” he begs, hips shifting needily as he pumps his cock.

Draping yourself over his lap, you smile blithely up at him. “You promised to spank me, Daddy,” you pout, and Matty gives a filthy smirk, tracing his fingers over your panties as you shudder and squirm.

“Such a filthy little slut, god,” he murmurs. “This sweet little ass is gonna look so pretty covered in my handprints, baby. Gonna remind you who you belong to every time you sit down, yeah?”

Arousal swirls through your body, wanton need dripping from your neglected cunt. “Belong to you, Daddy. Your girl— ah!” you gasp as Matty’s hand comes down, meeting your ass harshly. A long, low moan pulls from your throat, sweet pain tangling with the burning need under your skin. “Yes, Daddy, fuck. Please, more,” you whimper, face pressed against the sheets as you sink deeper into glorious submission. Three more smacks come in quick succession, the flesh of your ass flaming under his touch.

Matty kneads your tender skin gently, soothing before he delivers another hit, the pain washing over you and coiling into thick, palpable pleasure under your skin. “Love this pretty ass so much, princess,” he praises.

“Want you to fuck me there, one day,” you say dreamily, so lost in desire-slick fantasies that you don’t even process the admission as it falls from your lips. “Wanna be yours. Every single hole,” you murmur, eyes lidded and voice rough with lust. Matty freezes, and you tense. God, was that a weird thing to say? Too early to admit it? Is he gonna think you’re actually a slut now?

A moan of pure, unfiltered lust falls from his mouth and your thighs clench, the fabric of your panties soaked and sticky between your thighs. “Fuck, you can’t say things like that, princess. Gonna make me fuckin’ cum before I’ve even fucked you,” he murmurs, voice low and raked over gravel, thick with lust. His fingers tease over your clit through your panties, and you arch up into his touch, whimpering.

“Then fuck me,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. Want you.” Matty grins, manhandling you until you’re laying on your front, pleasure tense in your belly as he slides your panties to the side. 

Your cunt clenches around nothing, gasping and pleading softly as the sheets dig into your cheek. “This okay, angel? Wanna watch the bruises come up on your pretty little ass.”

Lifting your hips, you shake your ass at him, a smirk pulling at your lips. “Gonna think about fucking it, Daddy?” He groans, the sound going straight to your core, slick cunt dripping as you press against him. “S’okay if you do. I have been. When I’m alone, when I want you, fucking myself on my fingers and thinkin’ about you stretching me out there. Would feel so fucking— Ohh,” you break into a moan as Matty enters you with no warning, meeting no resistance from your soaked cunt.

“So fucking wet for me, princess. So fucking filthy, playing with that needy cunt and thinkin’ about me fucking your ass, god,” he groans, dipping his head to kiss between your shoulder blades. A shudder runs through you, the stretch and burn between your thighs familiar, the ache soothing.

Your cunt throbs, thick pulses of arousal hammering in time with your racing heart. “Harder, Daddy, please,” you whine, arching your back. Dizzying lust envelops you, your head hazy and light, practically floating clear of your body. A shocked moan escapes you as Matty spanks you again, pain sinking into pleasure that coils tightly through your insides. 

“Don’t be greedy, darling,” he chides. “C’mon, lift your hips a little for Daddy, okay?” Unthinkingly, you obey, letting him puppeteer you, mould you into whatever shape he likes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, sliding a pillow under your hips. You glow at the praise, nails scraping the sheets when he fucks deep into you, the change in angle sending waves of pleasure spilling over you.

“Ngh, Daddy, fuck,” you whimper, your words coming out garbled where your face presses into the sheets. Incoherent moans of please and fuck and I need and Daddy stumble from your lips, your body melting into a pleasure-soaked haze as Matty fucks deep into you.

Your hips meet obscenely, lewd sounds filling the room as your world narrows down to the four walls, aware of nothing but him. “That’s it, princess. Let it all out, let Daddy hear those pretty noises, yeah? Nobody else gets to hear you like this, right?” he coos, pinching your clit and moaning softly as your cunt clenches around him reflexively.

“N-no,” you promise shakily, struggling to pull the words to the forefront of your mind, delirious with pleasure. “Only you, Daddy. Only one who can fuck me like this. So fucking good.” You choke on a gasp, Matty’s hips meeting yours over and over, your vision swimming, your body set adrift in an ocean of sheer ecstasy. 

“Such a sweet girl,” Matty murmurs, teasing your clit as you whine powerlessly. Seemingly just for the fun of it, he slaps your ass again, the sweet sting tearing you open. Pleasure rushes through you, cradling your very organs, stoking a fire that chars your bones. “God, I love your pretty ass, darling. Can’t wait to fuck this tight little hole.” His words sink into your skin, wrapping tight around your sore muscles, ecstasy coiling in your veins. With what feels like a monumental effort, you rock your hips up towards him, Matty impossibly deep inside you.

The tip of his cock brushes that perfect spot inside you, sending a bright jolt of pure euphoria fizzing up your spine. A keening wail falls from your lips, a loud, uninhibited sound of undiluted pleasure. “Gettin’ close, angel? Wanna cum for your Daddy?” You nod wildly, indistinct, stifled pleas tumbling from your lips like prayers. “Go on, princess, cum for me. Cum all over my fuckin’ cock, make me cum.” In that same obedient, thoughtless way, you do. You choke and whimper and whine, drool pooling in your mouth and dripping out against the sheets as you moan the only word you know: Daddy. Euphoria burns white-hot under your skin, melting your organs until your body is made of liquid desire, messily strung together by flimsy ligaments. Matty’s touch is the only thing anchoring you to reality, your head still hazy as you drift back to Earth.

Matty’s pace is erratic, frenzied and wild and hot as your cunt pulses with aftershocks. “Cum on me,” you beg. “On my cunt, on my tits, on my face, I don't care. Just wanna see it, wanna feel it, want you to mark me, make me yours,” you plead, and Matty groans. He gives your ass one more swift smack for good measure and flips you over, your bruised skin screaming in protest as it presses into the sheets. Three quick passes of his fist over his cock and he’s cumming, white ropes splashing across your belly and up to your tits, painting your skin in a filthy, lurid display. “Thank you, Daddy,” you murmur as he breathes heavily above you. “Love bein’ your little cumdump.”

His head tips back, a disbelieving laugh bubbling free. “Such a good, sweet, pretty girl with such a filthy mouth, princess. So fuckin’ hot.” You smile proudly, dragging your fingers through his mess and sucking the taste of him off them. Matty’s eyes go wide, his head falling to lap at the skin between your tits, kissing and sucking ravenously at them. He makes his way up and presses his lips to yours, the taste of him smearing between your mouths, the kiss a filthy thing, alive with desire. “You’re beautiful,” he mumbles, hushed like he isn’t even aware of the words, and you flush.

“So are you,” you smile as he falls next to you, gazing adoringly into your eyes as your chests heave.

“We should get cleaned up,” he says with a weak chuckle, and you mumble an affirmative without even pretending to move. “Just a minute, princess, then I’ll get you cleaned up, cook us some dinner, yeah?” he promises, kissing you gently as your eyes flutter closed. Of course, the pair of you wake an hour or so later, dried cum on your belly and crusting into your brand-new lingerie, your thighs uncomfortably wet and sticking. Matty carries you into the bath, takes gentle care of you, the promised meal waiting when you pull yourself out of the now-lukewarm water. Pillar candles glow atop the dining table, the light sparkling off your wine glasses, and your heart melts.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall deeply, irrevocably in love with him; every passing day reveals something new to adore. The words spring to your lips at any and all moments, both opportune and not, and it starts to become a real struggle to swallow them back down. You don’t want to be too much, too soon, and truthfully you’re scared of what his answer will be, and even more so of how you’ll react.

Your private-not-secret relationship is your so-called friends’ favourite topic of discussion, so much so that you’re afraid it’ll get back to your parents before you’re ready for them to know. You try to keep them happy with minor tidbits, throw them off with misdirections (yes, he’s older; no, I won’t tell you by how much; no, my parents don’t know him), but their endless reserves of intrusion are starting to wear you down. Thea is your only confidante, the only one besides Matty himself who knows the ins and outs, and you’re fucking dying for someone new to brag and gush to. So when Matty texts you one day in mid-August, asking if you want to meet his friends, you jump at the chance.

My friends are absolutely desperate to meet you, by the way

Insist they have to meet this girl I won’t shut up about

I’ve been told to tell you Emerald Hill at 10pm on Saturday, and not to take no for an answer

If that tells you what kind of a bunch they are, fair warning

i’d love to :)

come pick me up at 8? then we’ll have time to get presentable before we have to go ;)

By the time Saturday rolls around, you’re practically fizzing with excitement, much to your parents’ suspicion — they’ve been sceptical all summer of how happy you’ve been, curious glances and pursed lips every time you so much as smile at your phone. The excitement has turned to nerves as you’re leaving Matty’s, though, roiling in your gut as you obsess over every detail that could go wrong. Matty wraps comforting arms around your waist from behind, kissing the top of your head and holding you close, the thump of his heartbeat at your back soothing. “Stop worryin’ so much, love. S’gonna be fine, okay?” He gives a boyish little grin as he opens the car for you. “Can’t wait for you to meet my boys. All my favourite people in one place,” he says, and you smile softly, that warm, fizzing affection you don’t want to give a name to creeping up your chest.

Matty lets you choose the music as you drive, shaking his head every time you queue up another glitter-gel-pen pop song. He takes your hand and leads you into the bar, a classy little place tucked into a street corner, his eyes lighting up as he catches sight of whoever you’re here to meet, swallowed into a bear hug by a tall blond when he reaches the table.

“Ah, mate, it’s been too long,” the other man says, pulling back and offering you a hand. “George.”

You look up into his face and your jaw drops. The hot DJ from that fateful night at 102 grins down at you, and your eyes widen as you try to take back your composure. Swallowing your tongue, you smile and give your name, taking a seat as Matty pulls a chair out for you. Just as you’re getting over that shock, you lock eyes with Charli and she smirks back at you.

“Sunshine Baby!” she exclaims. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You laugh, the tension in your shoulders loosening at the merest semblance of familiarity. “How do you remember that?” you laugh disbelievingly.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Matty interrupts.

Charli shrugs. “Sort of. Sunshine over here racked up a three hundred quid tab and tipped me a hundred on top. Don’t forget that in a hurry.”

You cover your face in embarrassment. “That makes me sound like an alcoholic,” you groan. “Your fault, by the way.” You poke Matty’s shoulder affectionately. “I was mad at you, practically fucking bought out the bar about it. Entire place got a free drink off me.”

“I like her,” another member of the group chimes in with a laugh. You look up to meet the eyes of the speaker, and– Jesus. One group of friends shouldn’t be allowed to have this many hot people in it. “Ross,” he says, and you smile politely. The last member of the party introduces himself as Adam, and you greet him with a smile, letting yourself get absorbed into rapid conversation and raucous laughter. “Right,” Ross interrupts. “Matty — you’re picking up the tab,” he declares. “Oh, don’t make that face,” he says as Matty scoffs. “Amount you drink, I’m not paying it on a teacher’s salary.”

You giggle. “Aw, give him a break. These days, I’m spending his money faster than he can make it,” you joke, and Charli cackles. You’re pleasantly tipsy, the alcohol loosening your lips and lifting the weight of anxiety in your chest, conversation flowing between you as easily as the wine in your glass. You cling to Matty as you leave, waving cheerful goodbyes and promising to text Charli to arrange a girls’ night.

“I’m gonna regret introducing you two, aren’t I?” Matty sighs, pulling you in close against the unseasonably cold wind, the warmth of his body soothing.

“No,” you giggle. “I love her. Wish I had friends like yours,” you say, wistful and slightly self-pitying as you slide into the car.

Matty cups your cheek, leaning in across the console to press a tender, loving kiss against your lips. “I’m sorry, baby. But you have me. Always gonna have me, yeah?”

Your heart flutters, those three little words rising in your throat once again. “I guess you’re a pretty good consolation prize,” you tease, pushing down the frightening intimacy of the moment with levity.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles. “Wanna come back with me? Or do you want me to drop you home?”

You scoff. “Is that even a question?”

The rest of your summer passes quickly, too quickly. You spend more time at Matty’s house than home, more and more of your things finding their place there as time passes. You start going to visit him at work without any other justification, every step nerve-wracking as your father’s presence looms. You have one unbelievably close call when he’s in the lobby as you’re leaving, frantically slamming the door close button in the lift before he can turn and spot you. Ruby stays just as hostile, seething at you and muttering warnings that Matty’ll be bored soon every time you pass her by. You take a petty, savage pleasure in tormenting her, just a little, deliberately pulling Matty in for long, filthy kisses as you open his office door.

By the time you can’t put off going back to uni any longer, there’s barely any point in you being home at all. Naturally, Matty offers to be the one to drive you up, and you seize the opportunity to be alone with him for the last time in however fucking long. Your father is privately relieved not to be the one to have to, you can tell, accepting your explanation that Thea’s just passed her test and she’s offered to drive me. You don’t mind, do you? without question. Shows how much he knows; Thea’s failed her practical six times and counting.

When you arrive, Matty insists that you don’t lift a finger, carrying all of your boxes upstairs and giving you something to ogle in the process. You’re the last one back, your housemates smirking at you and nudging each other at the sight of him, fourteen years your senior with grey in his hair, kissing you filthy and unashamed in plain view. Later, you mouth behind his back, their answering giggles reminding you that you do have good friends, after all.

Matty looks devastatingly gorgeous in the late-autumn sunset, leaning against his car with a cigarette dangling from his lips. You snatch it with a smirk, stretching up to peck his lips and taking a deep drag. His smile melts you into goo, your heart hammering so fast it might smash free of your ribcage. If you don’t say it now, you’ll lose your nerve.

“I love you,” you rush out, muffled against his chest as he holds you, arms cradling your body tight and warm and safe. “You don’t have to say it back, I just… I do, and I want you to know.” 

Matty pulls back to look at you, eyes soft with affection and adoration and maybe even something deeper. “Do you know how long I’ve been waitin’ to hear you say that, princess? God, I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” he groans, his hands at your waist the only thing keeping you upright as your knees go weak. “Think I might die, havin’ to be without you these next few weeks.” You giggle, giddy with infatuation and devotion and… God, you can just say love, now. “I’ll be back soon, don’t worry. Could never stay away from you.”

[jinxs-gf]

beauty is in the eye of the beholder

pairings: jinx x reader

summary: You’re an artist, giddy at the thought of creating a portrait of Jinx, your lover. Except she can’t understand why you’d want a portrait of her.

content, warnings: jinx has cute aggression & insecurities, fluff! reader calls jinx ‘angel’ and jinx calls r her toots, too much description and it’s all barely edited D: pretty cringe but it’s okay

w.c. 2.2k

a.n. based off this request <3 again tysm anon ILY :)

You walk into the little corner of Jinx's room (the abandoned, giant space full of nothingness—that goes down...who knows how far) exclusively reserved for you. There's easels with and without canvases. Some covered in abandoned art, some finished, and some blank. The corner screamed you all over it. Especially the mess of unnecessary amounts of paint brushes, buckets, pencils, tore up paper...

Paint splotches and spills were scattered across your little desk and the floor (the work of you and Jinx).

There's particular squabbles of paint that you don’t mind. A happy face with a squiggly smile that's been there long enough to start chipping away. An uneven mess of hearts scattered in attempt to make the perfect one. Big words that read "I love you" in blue and smaller words next to it, "jinx waz here" in pink. The newest stain is on one of the many cans of your desk, a mark of her kiss. She'd quite literally painted her lips with bright purple and kissed the can, insisting it was there so her toots would never miss her.

Even though there's no time to miss her. Even though she resorts to bringing her work over to your tiny desk instead of keeping it to her very spacious one. You don't mind, the closer to your girlfriend the better. You pretend to be bothered though, only so she'd persist and annoy and squish into your space further.

You tie the apron, generously gifted by Silco, around yourself, excited to (hopefully) start a new, special project. It was gifted reluctantly of course. He tried to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal, but it was a very big deal. The eye of Zaun gift giving? Unheard of. You must be special. And you were, according to your blue haired menace that reminded you everyday. The very menace you affectionately named Angel.

"Toots!"

Jinx's gloved hands wrap around your body and suddenly, your back is crunched to her front. Her hands squeeze your tummy while nuzzling her face into you. Clearly she had missed you...for the whole minute you were separated.

It's like she can tell you were thinking it, "What? You didn't miss me while you were gone? You don't seem so excited I'm here." She's teasing like she always does. The edge and rasp in her voice so close to your neck doing wonders to the butterflies in your stomach.

But of course Jinx missed you. Could you really blame her? She hates every second you're apart, and she loves that you do too. So she's open about it, maybe more dramatic and a bit of a show off, but only to make you laugh and see you turn bashful. She loves getting you shy with her affections and teasing, unable to fathom the way you're wrapped around her finger the way she's wrapped around yours.

Your hands delicately grab her small, rough ones, turning yourself around to face her. "Don't even start with me, I'll tickle you to death if you keep up the accusations."

"Is that supposed the be a threat?" And oh, the pout is more real than sarcastic than she wants it to be. Like she genuinely doesn't like the idea of being threatened...by tickles (you know the idea is scary to Jinx, it's the truest form of torture she said once).

"Kind of." Your hands swing in the gap between the two of you. "Hey I actually had an idea. Care to hear?" It's something you've been wanting to do for a while now, giddy at the thought of it. Yet suddenly you find yourself a bit reluctant, still undoubtedly shy around your lover. You hope she'll say yes and that her teasing from this won't be too harsh.

"Hit me with it!"

"Will you let me draw you? Like a full portrait? I promise I'll do you justice!"

Jinx is sorry for it, but she stopped listening immediately, too enraptured by your connected hands, heart beating a little faster at the contact. You'll never know the effect you have on her (or so she thinks), she refuses to get teased even though she loves to tease you. She adores how flustered you get. Teasing is her love language, Jinx's way of showing her love for her toots. And when you decide it's unbearable enough, you'll shut her up with a kiss. Jinx will drag it out and annoy you for that reason alone. She counts on a messy kiss every time.

Unknowing of what to do with the sudden adoration creeping up on her, she pinches your hands hard.

Unfazed, you call her "Angel?"

"Hm?" She looks up and at you with so much affection. So much it stops you for a moment. Your giddiness to do this increases tenfold, her expression killing you in the best way possible. You can be extremely honest about this to soften her up, make her want to say yes.

"I'd like to draw you. Like really, really badly. I have for the longest time. You're just...stupidly pretty and it makes me feel so stupid and I want to scribble your face all over my canvases all the time. So...can I? You'll have to sit for me as reference." You say it as if you don’t have every bit of her memorized, which you completely do.

And for whatever reason, your menace (angel) is stunned. You notice it’s a bad kind of stunned, you realize quickly.

“…Me?”

“Yes?”

“But why?” Jinx asks quiet and unsure of herself. Her eyes look everywhere but you, she tries pulling back but you squeeze her hands. There’s a hint of anxiety around her, something she hasn’t experienced since she met you.

The mood switch and uncharacteristic behavior causes worry to stir in your chest. “Uhh, why wouldn’t I? You’re my girlfriend, you’re the prettiest girl in the Undercity and in Piltover! Trust me, none of those snotty ladies are as pretty-”

“You haven’t even been to Piltover.”

“I don’t need to go over there to know they don’t compare to you.”

She heaves a big sigh, your worry growing.

“I just- I'm not pretty or beautiful or any of the things you say I am. You call me angel when I'm far from that! You love art, it’s your thing, toots. Your passion and escape. How can you let someone like me ruin something you love so much? I don’t want to…I don’t know.”

When you don’t answer, she continues.

“I’m not worthy of so much time being spent on something so precious you know?” She says it like she hopes you’ll agree. You won’t.

“Angel,” you let go of her hands to cup her face, needing her to hear you. “Of course you’re worth spending time on. I love you. Do I not say it enough? I know I can be-”

“No, you say it lots and lots!”

“I’ll say it more. I need to make sure you believe it. And guess what? I meant what I said Angel. You’re the prettiest girl. The prettiest to exist. And you’re mine, do you know how lucky I am? You clearly don’t understand how much I feel for you. You’re worth every second I’m gonna spend on your portrait, you understand?”

And finally, her smile is back, gone is the unsure frown.

Jinx nods and you nod while smiling with her, going in for a kiss…multiple kisses. Kisses all over her precious face, because she deserves to feel loved. To know that she’s loved.

You can be put your timidness to the side for the hour. She needs your confidence in your feelings right now. Your confidence in her.

"Now get in my lap, I need a better look at your pretty face." Your teasing demand flusters her. She immediately settles in your lap so your chests touch. It wasn't everyday (really ever) that you spoke to her like that, always too shy to do so. But Jinx finds that she kind of likes it, she wants you to demand contact with her, especially in a position like this. It makes her feel gooey inside. Butterflies uncontainable.

It's not exactly ideal, you're not used to having your girlfriend in your lap while sketching. But you wanted this, and it's not making it impossible. All you have to do is wrap your arms around her pretty waist and rest your chin on her shoulder. It's perfect.

"For science huh? To 'get a better look' at me was it? Toots, if you wanted me in your lap you coulda just said that!" She teases, assuming you just wanted her there to have a more accurate picture.

You quietly confess, "jus' wanted you in my lap." Giving her waist a squeeze while you sketch her jaw.

You can tell you've stumped her (but this time in a good way). She's gone impossibly quiet and still. Warm too, just like she always does when you attempt to flirt. The two of you were truly unable to get over and deal with the timidness of being affectionate. Of being together.

And just like always, she melts. Like how ice cream does in the sun (a sugary delight you've been able to share with Jinx once). Her stiff back let's loose and she squeezes in return. She holds on like you'll disappear. You wouldn't. Not ever, because how could you? When you love her and when she loves you to death?

It’s quiet for the rest of the time you’re drawing, Jinx resorting to drawing patterns on your back, seemingly drifting off at some point. She internally scolded herself for it, not wanting you to think she was bored but it was taking a while. She wanted to have this moment with you though, it was so delicate, something that’s not occurred before. Especially with the earlier conversation. It was special.

You dot the last bit of her freckles on the white sheet. "All done," a kiss to the side of her head that makes her impossibly warm and dig her face deeper. "Needa color it in now." Color it with the paint the two of you always make a mess out of, there's no doubt in your mind it'll happen again.

She turns to finally look at it, her eyes wider than you've ever seen. "Holy shit toots, there's no way you did that!"

"Are you accusing me of cheating?"

"Maybe." She always knew you were the best artist of the Undercity (definitely not biased), you were just that good. But this was different. Was it because it was a drawing of her? Well...it was also the fact that it was so accurate. From her eyes, nose, mouth, jaw...even the way her hair curled in front of her face. And the scars, scars even she herself had forgotten about. But you remembered, you hadn't looked at Jinx once the whole time. You really did have her memorized huh? You didn’t have to say it, the way you insisted she sat in your lap instead of on a different chair for reference and the drawing in front of her is enough proof.

Jinx needed to go look in whatever was left of her shattered mirror to see this. She couldn't believe how pretty she looked on a piece of paper. She couldn't believe you took the time to do this. That you even wanted to in the first place. Jinx has been flustered and felt her heart beating awfully fast just from your gaze alone. But she thinks her heart might be about ready to explode, much like her countless monkey bombs or firelights.

She's unsure how to contain or show this rush of deep, deep affection, so she pushes your face from where it's searching her reaction and jumps out your lap, rushing for your paint cans.

You're kind of confused, but also accepting of her reaction. You're used to it, not that she always runs away due to avoiding feelings. Definitely not. Jinx was one to have so much affection for something or someone that you just...want to pinch, squeeze or...bite it. Luckily she hasn't got you (yet). It was a little shove, probably to prevent herself from sinking her teeth into your cheek. (You truly wouldn't have minded) (you kind of would have, it hurts).

She's back in front of you holding up a bucket half full of bright blue paint. At her feet she's set down small cans of various blues, pinks, and purples. Her favorite colors, obviously.

"Here ya go toots!” There’s no doubt in your mind you’ll be making a mess with the paint when you’re done.

Except, you haven’t even picked out a paint brush before you feel her hands grab your waist from behind, the familiar feeling of paint transferring from her touch to your body.

You look back at her, squinting. “Excuse me?”

“What? Can’t grab my toots’ love handles?”

You turn around, grabbing her hands and pulling her closer to you. You take a peak at her handy work, the blue on your waist making you feel things. You won’t let her know that though.

“Two can play at that game.”

“Try me then toots.”

You release your hands from hers and cup her face with them, leaving blue prints of your palms on her cheeks.

[madelynraemunson]

You can answer this privately, but a few weeks ago I was thinking about if Reader was trying to make Eddie jealous with the song I kissed a girl in the background making out with some girl on the stage you know. Or tryna make him want her more lol.

def need to catch up tho

ooooh a lil toxic lovin’ i see i see 😏💋 thank you for helping with the possessive!eddie dirty talk and reactions, my sweet.

from the CMWYW universe

timeline: shortly after chapter 013

𝐈 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐭 18+

a collaboration with @emsgoodthinkin 💌

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

CW: jealous!eddie, wlw, possessive!eddie, boyfriend!eddie, biting, degrading kink, eddie calls us a slut lmao, bratty shy girl, dom!eddie, sub!shy girl, lmk if i miss anything

[WC: 2.0k]

“I just think you’re getting a little too into it.”

It’s crazy to think Eddie would draw the line at Gareth and not Steve. Yet here you two are, arguing in the dressing room mid-shift because Eddie realized his D&D friends — who are regulars at his D&D themed strip club — have eyes and money. 

“Babe, this is GARETH we’re talking about here,” you emphasize. “Gareth!”

You’re talking about the Gareth who’s gamer tag is ‘Gareth the “Gare Bear” Emerson’.  The same Gareth who still uses the bunny ear method to tie his shoes. The same Gareth who gets upset when his food touches. Aside from his now relatively toned build, clear skin, and knowledge on self-care and personal hygiene, Gareth Emerson is still the same guy. And that guy is a fucking dweeb.

“Yeah, but Gareth is conventionally attractive now,” your boyfriend points out. “And somebody who’s had no choice but to build their charm from the inside out is a dangerous person.”

Projecting, are we Munson? You think to yourself. You couldn’t believe the audacity of your boyfriend. Ever since you two became exclusive, Eddie has become extra protective of you. You didn’t mind it. You actually preferred it because it means he cares. But really, at work? The place you clock in every day (not only to see him but) to make a living?

“You left scratches on his back last time.”

“He paid me to make a girl jealous.”

“And let’s not forget whatever the fuck that was that you did with Creel,” Eddie adds refusing to hear you out. 

“Henry PAID me for a lap dance,” you hiss. “He was lonely, I was doing my job. He came in and spoiled me and your business on his off day, babe.”

The heat dissolves from Eddie’s cheeks when he hears his pet name. Albeit flattering, this conversation between you two wasn’t over just yet. 

Eddie knew what he saw. He knows that blank, fucked out stare from anywhere, and it was prominent when you were giving Henry a lap dance, using the crinkle of his pants to get yourself off.

There’s no arguing there. But you were single when that happened and Eddie at the time made it really seem like he didn’t want anything with you. None of this was taking away from how ridiculous Eddie was being.

“Okay,” you sigh, still choosing to honor his wishes. “No more dances for Gareth.”

“At least for tonight,” Eddie barters, issuing you a fake pout. “Feeling a little bit jealous, but I’ll get over it.”

Stay away from Gareth, or men in general tonight. You can definitely do that. 

Eddie’s a happy camper now. He watches as you do your thing at Vecna’s Lair, cock twitching eagerly in his pants as you swing down the pole and sink your pelvis onto the stage. The men douse you in ones, fives, tens, twenties. And you let it rain down on you with ease. 

But why is Eddie still so jealous? He can’t help but turn green with envy when he sees you smile at your patrons. When you lock eyes with them as you speak. And the way they gravitate towards you and your pheromones like some magnets on a fridge. 

You seem to be unbothered by everything, unbothered by his presence in a room full of other gentlemen. Eddie needs to test the waters. Eddie needs to know you care.

So he decides to grab a beer and approach the first customer of the opposite sex who happens to spiral into his periphery. It happens to be good ol’ Stephanie tonight. 

A regular during the beginning days of the week, this kind hearted, very approachable redhead welcomes Hellfire’s owner with a smile, offering her beer bottle to Eddie for him to give her a clink, hello. 

“Hey!” he chimes. “How uh, how are you doing?”

“I’m doing well, and yourself?”

Eddie grins. “Not too shabby.” 

Performatively studying her with his eyes, he decides to ask her an innuendo-filled question. “You enjoying yourself tonight?”

“What’s it to ya?”

“I always like to make sure my customers are satisfied.”

Her brow does a fruitful quirk upwards.

“So you’re the owner huh? Already so young and successful. That’s quite impressive.” 

“D’aww,” your boyfriend’s hands clutch his chest. “I appreciate that.” 

You can’t help but look over, stomach warped into knots.

Eddie told you to stay away from guys. So why is he flirting with a girl? Specifically a customer you’ve interacted with before. Not that Eddie would know that, since he’s always in his office when Stephanie is here.

Eddie knows you see him now and that’s all the satisfaction he needs. Knowing he got the reaction he wanted, he excuses himself from Steph, strutting back over to his office to disappear for a while and let your mind wander.

But your mind is already two steps ahead. When Stephanie catches a glimpse of you, her eyes sparkle. You wave her over.

“You just keep coming back for more, don’t you?” you infer as she strides towards you. 

Stephanie chuckles. “You just can’t seem to keep me away, Shy Girl. I owe Vicky and Robin one for putting me onto this joint.”

You swing your legs over so you can divert your attention to your stunning regular. She seems to be receptive to your flirtatious nature. And conveniently, the DJ transitions into a very fitting song:

“How are you doing tonight?” you assess her.

Stephanie shrugs. “I’m doing okay. The chick I was telling you about last week stood me up. So I’m here just trying to make myself feel better.”

“OMG I’m so sorry dude.”

But she brushes it off. “It’s okay. The loneliness will die down. I just gotta feel sorry for myself first.”

You rest a consoling hand on your shoulder. Before becoming exclusive with Eddie, you knew the feeling of rejection all too well. 

“You’re welcome here anytime. Even if you just wanna talk. Girl to girl, we can even do a private room for an hour.”

Just then, Stephanie reaches into her bra and pulls out a twenty dollar bill with the smuggest look on her face. 

“What about center stage? You tryna kiss it all better?”

You could’ve… and would’ve done it without the money. But knowing Eddie is in for the plot twist of his lifetime, you’ve rendered the deal priceless. Happily obliging, you accept the money Stephanie insists you take from her and extend your arms out.

“Bring it in, chica.”

It’s not what I’m used to. Just wanna try you on. I’m curious for you…

And then it happens. It starts with a timid smack of the lips to feel out both your comfort levels. The feeling of safety and trust propels you both further into realms of intensity you wouldn’t have thought of exploring with one another before. She tastes of cherry, with a hint of minty coconut. 

You let out a satisfied hum. It registers as a vibration against her full, vivacious chest. Dancing your fingers in her wavy hair now, you pull her closer to your chest as your lips lock in tandem. 

“WHEW!” you can hear Argyle shout all the way from the kitchen. “GAH DAMN!”

…I kissed a girl and I liked it. The taste of her cherry chapstick…

The uproar creates a chain reaction and soon all the gentlemen at Hellfire are hooting and hollering at the relatively unscripted act of affection in front of them. Soon, the money follows. Grinding your hips against her torso now, you chase the feeling of self-indulgence as you unravel yourself onto Stephanie. Right in time for Eddie to see.

I kissed a girl just to try it. I hope my boyfriend don’t mind it.

Floored, confused, and just a tad aroused, your man stands at the foot of Vecna’s Lair with his hands curling at his sides.

It felt so wrong. It felt so right. Don’t mean I’m in love tonight.

His stiff cock protrudes at the posterior ends of his zipper, boxer briefs shamefully laced with the salty spouts of his leaky tip. Fuck, he’s so hard. But still, oh so very pissed.

I kissed a girl and I liked it. I liked it.

Standing where you knew he’d be, you shoot him a wink, letting him know that you’re well aware of his foiled plan. And after you and Stephanie thank one another for each other’s time, you prance off to the dressing room with mountains of bills in your hands.

———

“You think Eddie’s gonna like this green set?”

There’s an itch to burn the cash you got tonight, so you find yourself browsing the internet for lingerie on your phone.

“Oooh,” Nina coos in approval. “Yes girl. You’re gonna look like a sexy dragon of sorts.”

“Mm. And what about this g-string?”

“Yes, get it. I have the same one and it’s so flattering and comfortable. Look!”

Just then the door shoots open.

“Eddie, what the hell?!” Nina shrieks, quickly donning her cloak to cover up. “Knocking, fucker. Ever heard of it?”

You turn towards the entrance to find your flustered man at the door, scowling at you briefly before turning to apologize to Nina.

“Sorry, Neens,” his gaze softens sincerely. But Nina is already storming out. “I was dumb for that.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” you tsk.

You two wait until your colleague is out of range to engage in what you both know is about to be some pretty reckless behavior. When all is clear, Eddie wastes no time, pouncing on you, pinning you by the wrists to the drawer of your vanity, leaving love bites at the crook of your neck just keen enough to draw blood. 

Pathetically, you love it. Your dripping cunt swells for the intensity — the fury of his rough hands — the vampiric blows to your hot pulse points — the rugged buckling of his hips as he digs his claws into the tender indents of yours.

“Eddie…” you whimper.

“This familiar?” he demands between breaths. 

“Rings a bell,” you muster, tracing his large display of excitement with your trembling palm. “Though it seems like you don’t necessarily…have a problem with it.”

A sinister laugh escapes his throat.

Eddie huffs. “Think you can be a smart aleck with me without repercussions?”

As swift as they come, Eddie flips you around, easing you safely onto the desk portion of your vanity by the your neck. You squirm around like a brat, whining and kicking at him with your heels in playful retaliation. His fingertips then tightly enclose around your thin lacy bralette, causing a minor tear of the sparkly chrome fabric.

Too far. Grabbing him by the wrist, you eye him in disapproval.

“Eds!” you hiss at him, seriously this time.

“You’re buying new sets anyways,” he shrugs indifferently. “You know, with the money you got for being a needy little slut.”

You issue a low grumble as Eddie sinks his body atop the small of your back. The softness in Eddie returns again when he presses delicate kisses around the tip of your chin.

“Mine, remember?”

He spins you around again, ordering you to your knees with an authoritative snap. You oblige a little too quickly, but you don’t care. You’re at the mercy of him tonight and always.

“Yours…” you breathe, knowing he’s about to fuck you and your mouth to spit and tears. “Yours only…”

He smirks, satisfied with himself. You bite your lip eagerly as you watch the King of Hellfire — and your heart — unbuckle his belt, ushering his pants down to line his pulsing cock up against your lips. Desperate for more already, your tongue peaks out to say hello. The deep lines of his snarky face concave further.

“Pucker up, sweetheart.”

💞 valentine’s divider by @saradika-graphics 💞

happy valentine’s day, sweethearts 💌

tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @mediocredreams , @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay

[luveline]

Hi! I remember a while ago you said zombie!au Steve might have a hobby of drawing? Would love to see some of that maybe w r as his muse:D

steve zombie!au fem. 1k

You return to the camp with your new best friend at your side. In matching coats, no less. 

"Christ," Steve says, shaking his head in disgust. 

He loves —loves— that you have a friend, someone who might care about you just as much as he does. You deserve to be loved, and cherished, and known for your worth. You're a human vestibule of sweetness and God knows it wasn't going to be long before someone else noticed. 

But matching coats? "Alright, where's mine?" he asks. 

"Didn't have your size, handsome," Eddie says, giving you a quick and purely amicable hug. "See you later." 

He scampers off to who knows where and you sit down. You don't hide your happy smile, and Steve's glad for it even if it does make him jealous.  "He's so nice," you say. 

"No, he's not." 

"He is. He's almost as nice as you. And he helped me find you something." 

"After he outfitted my girlfriend in a couple's costume. I'm surprised he had the energy." 

"You're so jealous," you say, your happy smile growing in size with the seconds. 

"I'm actually making myself feel sick." 

"I can wear a different coat if it–" 

"Shut up! As long as you like me better, wear what you want." He shakes off his petty jealousy and takes your hand. For once, he's sitting on a towel rather than just grass or dirt, but his efforts to avoid extensive grass stainage mean nothing when your muddy shoe brushes his leg. "Nice. Thanks." 

"Sorry, sorry," you murmur, swinging your backpack off of your shoulder and sighing as you bend into yourself. "Jeez, my back hurts." You breathe out, a low moan of sound that drags. He can feel your pain. (He can't, but he figures that he loves you so much you're now connected spiritually to one another.) "How come I keep going on these expeditions and you keep staying home?" 

"I'm good with the kids." 

"Mm. Maybe you'll come on the next one anyways? I miss you when I'm gone." 

"I miss you too," he says. "More, I'd say." 

You giggle. "Whatever, you always have to be better than me. Shut up! Shut up, I'm trying to give you the things I found for you." 

Steve draws a zipper closed over his lips and flicks away the key. You get into these moods with each other sometimes, perhaps from having spent as much time together as you have, where a faked aggression rises between you. It's almost like you would've spoken at the start of the end of the world, when it was him and you alone, and Steve wasn't in the best of moods. The play fighting soon dies down as you open your bag; receiving gifts is always a pleasure. 

"First, underwear." 

"Thank you," he says, accepting the eight pack of boxers you offer like a man who's crawled the Sahara being given a glass of water. "So much." 

"You're welcome. Socks, a shirt, a new belt, a brace for your knee." You dump it on the towel next to him one by one. Your bag must've been heavy carrying all this, and it keeps going. You've brought him soap, hair elastics, razor blades, chapstick. The community you belong to is heavy on sharing, but you're free to bring home whatever you like so long as you're willing to carry it unaided once you've contributed to the food drive. You've clearly crammed your bag full of stuff for him, unveiling only underwear and socks for yourself. 

"You couldn't find any toothpaste?" he asks. 

You toss a pack of cigarettes at him without force. "Sadly, no. But I think Robin can get us some with those, right?" 

"I wanna smoke these so bad." 

You laugh and shake your head, fondly disapproving. "You don't! We can just kiss more, alleviate your cravings." 

"Weirdo." 

You lean forward, putting your cold hand on his cheek to leverage him closer. "You knew this when you met me," you say, kissing his cheek.

Steve's good on the cravings front after that. He swears that when things are at their worst a kiss from you could keep him going. Your lips can ease the ache of an empty stomach and the shattering heat of his ever-sprained knee.

You pull away gently like you're worried you'll hurt him in your detangling. Honestly, you might. Steve imagines you leaving sometimes like his arm being torn off. 

You reach back into the back for a parcel wrapped in a shirt for protection. The pencils and sketchbook you got Steve are long gone, lost with the rest of your possessions in the middle of a college campus on the Michigan border. Finding things like that is hard, and it hasn't been on Steve's mind. 

Apparently, it's been on yours.

"These are nice ones, right? The pencils?" you ask, having unwrapped your parcel, a soft backed sketchbook and a small metal case of pencils in hand. "There's only twelve, but I even found a sharpener so you won't have to do it with your knife. Sorry there's no black, I know you like the darker details."

Steve flicks through the sketchbook without thinking, every page blank. It isn't very big either, but it's perfect for purpose. 

He sets it aside with the pencils near all your new things and gets on his knees, tugging you in for a hug. "Thank you," he says, and he's said thank you a hundred times to you, but this one feels awkward, clumsy in his mouth. 

"You're welcome. Just promise you'll draw me again." 

"You're the only thing I want to draw." He kisses your cheek in emphasis. "You're the most beautiful thing everywhere we go." 

"That's such a line," you say, sounding melted. 

Easy, he thinks, turning your face to his for a kiss. Soft, as sweet as he can manage. With you, kisses start soft and end too rough, he can't help it. He remembers you're there and his to kiss and it drives him crazy. 

It's a little easier to stop today. Steve is genuinely eager to draw again, and in a week or two there won't be a page in his book without your likeness, his muse. 

[moonstruckme]

hey queen! i am humbly requesting some tasm!peter x plus sized!reader 🛐

maybe he was coming home from patrolling/being out as spidey and saw something in a window that reminded him of reader? like a knickknack or flowers or something like that? and he comes home and gives it to her and she’s all flustered and smitten 🤭

feel free to add your own spin to it or anything! i’m just in need of fluff and hugs from my boy 🫶🏻

Thanks for requesting lovely!

tasm!Peter Parker x plus size!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Peter knows he’s got other things he should be doing. He’s technically not done with the amount of time he likes to spend patrolling every day (plus there’s a serial burglar out there he should really be trying to catch), and if he’s not doing that he should be getting home to work on the research paper he’s got due tomorrow, and if he’s doing neither of those things Aunt May’s been begging him all week to dust the shelves she can’t reach. But when you open your door and he sees the look on your face, Peter knows he made the right decision neglecting all that shit. 

“Hi!” Your voice lilts through the syllable, happiness coating it like honey. 

“Hey,” Peter says back, immediately losing whatever advantage he had in the conversation. You’re surprised to see him, sure, but he’s surprised to see you like this. You’re still in your pajamas, evidently enjoying a day in, a large t-shirt and draw-string shorts that make you look all lazy and adorable and leave the delicate flesh of your thighs on display. Peter wants to bite them, but that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly. 

“Hey,” he says again, blinking to clear the haze from his brain. “I, uh, you said you like irises, right?” 

“Yeah…” There’s a hesitant sort of question in your voice. You eye the small bunch of flowers in his hand. “Are those for me?” 

Peter grins. “Who else, sweetheart?” He tacks on the endearment mostly to see you fluster. It’s a success; your arms come up to hug your torso as your cheeks dimple, smile half-suppressed. 

He passes you the flowers before he can fluster too. The plastic wrap crinkles under your careful touch, and you glance between him and them like you can’t decide which to admire first. 

“Thank you so much,” you say. “Did we…have something today?” 

“No,” he laughs, hooking his thumb in the strap of his backpack. “No, you’re good. I was just in the neighborhood, and they made me think of you.” 

Your eyes go all pretty-pleased at the comment, but you tilt your head curiously. “What do you have to do around here?” 

Ah, the question he’d hoped you’d be too happy to ask. The truth is, Peter’s almost never in this neighborhood if not for you. Spiderman gets around, but there’s not usually as much going on here as in the rest of the city. He’d spotted the flowers at a stand he’d webbed a catcaller to on the lower east side, and then came over to your end of town to bring them to you. It was only, like, a ten minute swing. Much more efficient than the subway. 

“Thrifting,” he says slowly. “I was, uh, just looking to update my closet a bit, and I know you’ve got a lot of good thrift stores around here.” 

“Nice.” You smile, taking a little sniff of your irises. Their bright color makes your already exquisite face look even lovelier, and it’s such a perfect image Peter wishes he had his camera on him. “Can I see your finds?” 

“No,” he replies. Too quickly, so he tries to look really put out to compensate for it. “No, I didn’t find anything. I’m…really picky about my clothes.” 

“Oh.” Your eyes drop to his plain gray t-shirt and jeans, but thankfully you’re too nice to say anything. 

“Right,” Peter blazes ahead, tugging on the straps of his backpack, “so I just wanted to bring you those, and I’ve actually got shelves to dust, so I’d better go…” 

“Okay, thanks for the flowers,” you say. “They’re really pretty.” 

“Yeah, I figured it must be hard being so pretty all by yourself,” he says, spinning around to walk backwards so he can see your reaction, “so I figured I’d get you a companion.” 

You press your lips together, flushing and tilting your head downwards as if to hide it. “Thanks,” you almost whisper. Peter grins hugely. 

You look up just as he’s turning back around, your focus narrowing on something behind him. 

“Hold on a second.” Peter halts opediently, and you come outside, that t-shirt fluttering prettily around your hips. “Something’s falling out of your bag…” 

He thinks to be nervous just before you pull the red and blue mask from the unzipped pocket of his backpack. 

“What’s this?” 

“That…” Peter’s nodding but he doesn’t know why. It’s some sort of automatic response, like he turns into a bobblehead under pressure. His mouth is void of saliva. “That’s a costume.” 

Your eyebrows twitch together as one side of your mouth kicks up, like you’re not sure what to make of him. “You dress up as Spider-Man?” 

The nodding turns to shaking weirdly seamlessly. “No! No, of course not, I’m an adult. It’s—it’s not for me.” You look at him expectantly. “I’m making it…for my nephew.” 

“Oh.” You blink. “I didn’t know you had a nephew.” 

“Really?” Peter hears his voice pitching higher, but he’s powerless to stop it. “I didn’t mention him? We’re pretty close—well, not that close. He lives…away. In Connecticut. But he wants a Spider-Man costume, and obviously he wants me to make it, because…I’m the guy for that stuff.” 

You nod respectfully. “You are really good at sewing,” you say, and the look you’re giving him is so sweet it nearly takes his knees out from under him. “It’s nice of you to do that for him. You’re really thoughtful, Peter.” 

You say it all soft and considerate, like it’s a secret you’re letting him in on, and Peter’s honestly worried for his heart health. He’s not sure it can take the strain of all this. 

“Yeah, well, only for people I care about,” he says just as quietly. 

You drop your gaze, smiling to yourself, and start tucking the mask back inside his backpack. “Your nephew must be a cool kid. I’d love to meet him sometime.” 

“Yeah, maybe if he comes to town sometime.” Which will be, you know, never. But hopefully by the time it gets suspicious you’ll know enough that he can come clean with you about that. 

He hears the zipper close and turns before you can move away. Peter wants desperately to wrap his arms around you, feel the softness of your body pressed up against his, but he settles for taking your hand. At the look on your face when he smiles and gives it a squeeze, you would’ve died at the alternative. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

Your lips part. “No problem,” you breathe. 

He gives your hand one more press for good measure, letting his fingers drag across yours as he steps away. “See you Friday, yeah? For dinner?” 

“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “I’ll see you then.” 

Peter shoots you one last grin over his shoulder, headed down the sidewalk. “Looking forward to it.” 

[kaq3yma]

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 [togame jo]

⸻ a brief mention of bully + shaming, very slightly angst, slight violence if you squint, hurt to comfort.

qeena's brief note: a very short drabble from me to make it up for (?) idk what (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ if you guys somehow notice it from how i wrote this, im still having a bit hard times characterising togame (all winbre chacs actually (｡•́︿•̀｡) ) im having a hard time rn so very sorry if this is shit but im learning so bare with me TT TT thank u so much sayangsss and happy reading xoxo

As the day draws to a close, the sun gradually sink beneath the horizon creating hues of gold and crimson. You settle on the swing, your feet bring you back and forth as the metal creaks and dip at the slight force. You had a pack of ice on your cheek, a futile attempt to soothe the swollen bump before he came. Without notice, the swing beside you creaks causes you to tilt your head. The prominent yellow colored jacket makes your eyes lit and brighten up.

Togame has two bottles of ramune in his hands. He pops both marbles inside the bottle with frizz spewing out and give you one "What's with all that ice? He chuckles, taking a quick sip of his drink. You shake your head, his chuckle mixing in with your faint laughter "My teacher slapped me because I hurt my classmate." His brows quirk in a surprised manner "...Yeah," You look down, fiddling with the marble inside your carbonated drink.

You look up to stare at him because he said nothing but his face, you can tell by his expression, he's pleading you to begin again. A wry laugh escaped past your lips "He was talking shit about me, calling me ugly. I was so pissed off... I think I broke his nose." That earns you a laugh from Togame. You look at him, offended that he find times to laugh when you're being serious and swollen. His laughter trails off and he stare at you "You should've gauge his eyes out, that can make sure he's really blind." You scoff, laughing at his reckless and playful demeanor "I'm serious, you dork. Why are you being so violent?" You huff, drinking half of your ramune in frustration.

Suddenly, he gets up and push his hands inside his trouser jeans "Let's go." He walks off and you look at him, baffled "Where are you going, idiot? I was just getting comfortable." Sighing, you pick your stuff and run after him.

The two of you walk alongside each other, finding spots to take a breather "You..." His raspy voice caught you in trance and you look up, one brow furrowed upwards "Huh?" He shake his head, picking his glass up from the bridge of his nose to adjusted it "You are actually really pretty, Y/n." You grin, nodding your head at him as a confirmation to his tender words. Togame hold, no, grasp your hand firmly and put them in the pocket of his jacket.

You look at him from the side, and because of his round glass, you couldn't make out his green irises. The Shishitoren second-in-command look down at you, tightening his hold on you. However, when he look down, your reflection flashes into your eyes, ables you to look at your face, your pretty face.

The next day, you woke up and get ready for school. You look at yourself in the mirror, feeling all giddy and confident about today. You pack your stuff inside your bag and hurry out to school. You didn't check your phone when it buzzes but it's a text, from Togame and it says; "Have a nice day at school."

When you arrives, you notice a particular seat is empty. It was that guy's. You look at one of your classmates, asking them for his whereabouts since it's unusual for him to be absent but they mindless shrug you off, saying they had no idea. Unbeknownst to you though...

"What can I do? It's your fault for picking up on my girlfriend, anyway~" A swift blow erupt from the narrow alleyway and this time, Togame knows, the guy's nose is broke, for real.

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 is open. all rights reserved goes to @kaq3yma on tumblr.

[causenessus]

new grounds

part 0.6. TOXIC TRAIT . . . 1.5.2024

PLAYING IN THE CAFE . . . atomic vomit by steve lacy

it’s 10 o’clock. not in the afternoon, at night. she’s huddled in a corner next to keiji, the both of them leaning on each other and periodically dozing off and then shaking the other awake. 

kageyama is a few feet away from her on her right, playing with his hands as they wait for their manager who is late as per usual.

yachi is a little more energetic, sitting a chair’s distance away on keiji’s side, swinging her feet as she scrolls on her phone. she giggles at something which draws all of their attention.

“akaashi,” she says, turning towards him. “do you want to tell me about this condom thing?”

“oh god,” keiji removed his arm from around y/n’s shoulder to cover his face with his hands. 

y/n laughs as she sits upright in her chair, it had only happened a few days before, but it felt like forever ago.

“what more is there to say? keiji’s tweet summed it up pretty good,” she answers and keiji groans at the thought.

kageyama tries his best not to look as he listens. his phone is buzzing with texts from a group chat. his friends are trying to encourage him to talk to her after he told them she was here. but he can’t. instead, he’s on google researching condoms and microphones, something he never thought he’d be doing. ever.

then a bell chimes as the door opens and their manager walks in, a small corduroy bag around her shoulders over a white puffer jacket. 

“happy holidays, sorry i’m late,” she slings off her bag as she talks.

everything is pointless here. they’re all pretending to listen to her as if they respect her and she’s pretending like she actually does her job. but maybe that’s all his opinion.

“this last year was pretty good. we lost some people but you’re all new additions and you’ve been handling this great. i help out when i need to, i accommodate when you guys need some days off…” it was slowly transitioning into statements about her, which she realized and quickly cleared her throat, pulling out a folder. “the only things i can say is you all need to do better about getting to work on time and calling out. if you’re all gonna call out one day at least tell me a day ahead or something. it’s not like i can stop you guys from doing it, just don’t make it a habit,” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “i think that was all, if you guys can hang out here for 20 minutes more, we’ll all get paid extra. everything’s free today for you guys, so if you want anything just let me know and i’ll make it for you.”

y/n settles back down into her chair with a steaming chai latte, curling back up against keiji, whose sipping on a brewed green tea. yachi is happy with a hot chocolate, and kageyama has a mug of warm milk in his hand.

none of them want caffeine right now, it’s too late. they all just want to go home but they aren’t going to miss out on being paid just for sitting around.

but something bothers her about the fact that kageyama’s been on his phone this whole time. he keeps texting someone, she assumes, and for some reason that sits wrong with her. she wants to know what’s going through his head and who he’s talking to. a part of her wishes he would look at her, or ask how she’s doing.

maybe that’s asking for too much, it sounds comedic just thinking about it. he’s never talked to her more than he needed to. he’s never been one to say “how are you?” but maybe after her havoc on twitter, she thought he’d be more interested.

he's unlike anyone she's ever met, and maybe that's what makes her care so much. she's never cared so much about what anyone thought, or in garnering a simple look from them.

but he won't look at her and she can't predict how he's going to act, and she doesn't know how to handle that except by telling herself that she hates him.

“look at him,” y/n can’t help but whisper to the companion she’s leaning against, still facing towards the boy who’s mindlessly scrolling on his phone as he sips on his drink. “look at the state we’re in and he doesn’t even care. he hasn’t looked at us once.”

keiji raises his brows in surprise at her comment. what did it matter what he cared? but then he pieces it together.

“well, he’s seen me like this once at the beginning of the fall during our first show. but yachi’s right,” he gives her a sly smile as she tilts her head back, looking at him confused, “you really do care what he thinks.”

her face turns red at the thought and she immediately sits up, staring down into the swirling foam of her latte. “i do not,” she mumbles.

"i don't care," she whispers again. but she can't even bring herself to say it confidently.

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

kageyama literally knew y/n would be at the celebration because it was a mandatory and he had overheard her talking about in their psych class once to a classmate but he wasn't actually prepared

he immediately opened up his gc when she walked in and said "she's here" and the gc subsequently blew up

my boy was literally texting about yn the entire night but she thought he was just on his phone </3

the gc was trying so hard to get her to talk to him and he had the nerve to say things like "she looks busy" "she looks tired" "she's laying against akaashi right now"

which is when hinata with all the love in the world but not the brightness of someone intelligent said he should spill a drink on them so that she wouldn't be laying on him anymore (literally not said with any malice he's heard from bokuto how cool he is)

yams screamed no in the groupchat and outloud...because tsukki, hianta and him were all in the same room texting the groupchat in silence

other than that hinata was going off with the advice and giving kageyama all the reasons why he could talk to y/n

y/n keeps looking at akaashi because she wants to open her mouth and express how she really feels about kageyama (which would come up as a jumble of undiscernible words) but doesn't know what he'll say so then she looks away

yachi can't work on sunday because she's going to an art auction!! <3 how coincidental

(also my brain for some reason really wanted to write the written part in the present tense for absolutely no reason which i was trying to fight and then got confused so hopefully it still flows ok </4)

taglist: @ncitygreen @lvrlamp @cherrypieyourface @mimi3lover @lees-chaotic-brain @frootloopscos @0moonii @cr4yolaas @eggyrocks @pinkiscool @httpakkeiji @localgaytrainwreck @lunaviee @kitty-m30w @lixie-phoria @aliruuiz @tartfrappe @corvid007 @iluv-ace @yvjitadori @k8nicole (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[its-in-the-woods]

Coyote Head - Part 6 - Postcard Perfect

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean 

Includes many other characters from Fallout

Synopsis: So much can happen in one morning. A picture perfect moment, and meeting with a ex.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning:  Animal/people death,, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Older Man/Younger Woman

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

*Actually pretty fluffy... for now.. enjoy

The next three days go by fast, cow checks happen every four hours, every day, like clockwork. Morning, afternoon, dinner, and then two overnight. Cooper handles the ones during daylight hours, his brother Mark handles the night ones. Lucy was grateful for that, not that she slept much, between nightmares and random knocks on the house. She’d kept most of that to herself, but Cooper had noticed, he noticed a lot of things. He'd even offered to do the first shift so she could sleep in, but she, of course, refused. The routine meant she got a moment out of the house, it also meant she got to hang out with the kids. 

Matthias still wasn’t her biggest friend, but his guard was lowering slowly. On Friday, when Cooper brought the kids over after school, he had handed Lucy a drawing. For being twelve he was pretty talented. He’d taken the time to draw a field, cows, and calves with the sun setting in the background. Lucy had thanked him and promptly put it up on the fridge which granted her, her first real smile from him. She’d do anything to hug him, but for now, she’d take the picture. She knew what it felt like to be young and not understand why a parent was gone. To not understand why things had changed suddenly. Lucy was just grateful that he had Cooper, what she would have done to have had at least one parent with her. Even though she loved her Grandparents, it was never the same without either of her parents. 

Janey was a whole different story, she loved to tell stories, and read stories. When she had discovered that she could read from Lucy’s bookshelves she was over the moon. Lucy doing her best to persuade her from anything too adult-themed. Settling on a classic, Hobbit. Cooper had shrugged in agreement, mentioning that she had always loved to read as soon as she learned. So Lucy let the copy go, the little girl was immediately taken by it. 

Lucy woke up Saturday morning having finally slept, she actually felt somewhat refreshed. Her mind was always wandering to Cooper. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to spend time with him. Even though they were nearly living out of each other's pockets, she couldn't help herself. Mind wandering to what kissing him would feel like, how his hands would hold her. Lucy flushed and finished getting herself dressed in comfortable clothes and made her way to make a pot of coffee. Feeling her feet get wet as she walked into the water.

“What the-” Lucy cussed, as she lifts her foot to inspect a large pool of water. “Dang-nabbit.” 

She runs back to her room digging out a handful of towels and toeing off her socks before running back to the kitchen. Lucy lays out the towels on the floor, scrambling to open up the under-sink cupboards. The various detergents and cleaners are thrown out as she tries to see what’s leaking. The space emptied, so she could see that the pipes had been split. 

“My goodness, why!” Lucy grumbles, realizing that the pipes had split just on the other side of the shut-off valves. 

She gets up too quickly and bangs her head on the underside of the sink. More words fall out of her mouth as she rubs the bump. Moving swiftly to the door she unlocks it and walks out, stepping around the rocks and stones as she goes to the side of the house. Swinging open the crawl space door she ducks in, happy that the water shut-off valve was inside. Lucy turns it off, her feet covered in the black mud as she stomps back into her house. Lucy closes her eyes for a moment to collect herself, before she starts to mop up the water that’s left on the floor. 

“Lucy?” Cooper’s voice comes in from the doorway.  

“Just in the kitchen,” Lucy replies, happy that help has finally arrived. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Cooper says, placing his hat on a nob by the front door. Walking into the room to observe the mess that was spread out onto the floor. 

Lucy sighs, as she drops the last towel into the sink. “The pipes under the sink burst, split just on the wrong side of the shut-off too.”

Cooper crouches right beside her, the smell of cigarettes and coffee wafting off of him. Lucy shuffled over so that he could see what they were working on.

“Well that’s weird,” Cooper squints, leaning forward to kneel on a rolled-up towel. “Never seen that happen before. Unless it froze, which would be odd for the beginnin’ of April.”

Lucy sighs, rubbing at her head, “Everything is insulated, and the heat tape is still on it. Plus it would have burst other pipes too.”

“Move’er, sweetheart,” Cooper murmurs, Lucy shifts over, as Cooper crawls into the cupboard pulling a pocket knife out of his pants. 

Lucy swallowed as his shirt rode up a sliver of tanned skin being exposed. Lucy feeling like she was fourteen seeing a boy shirtless for the first time, averting her eyes she chooses to stand up. Looking around trying to figure out how to hide the flush that was now staining her cheeks as the man fiddled around under the sink.

“Do you want coffee?” Lucy asked moving over to the cupboard to dig out cups. “I got a spare to-go mug.”

“Yeah, s’good.” Cooper said, voice echoing from below her. “Do ya’know if you got some spare PEX pipe hanging around?”

A knock on the door, had Lucy spilling coffee on her hand, Cooper banged his head under the sink. A whole slew of curse words spilling out of both of them, Lucy moves to the door. Completely forgetting with the mess that Dane was coming over to work on the tractors. 

“Lucy,” Dane says, a smile fading from their face as she takes in Lucy. “Oh, shit. Are you okay?”

Lucy tries to smile which turns into more of a frown, “Pipe burst. My kitchen is a mess, but I have coffee?”

Dane chuckles, looking into the kitchen Cooper standing with a pieces of Pex in his hand, his other hand rubbing at his head. The two of them give awkward smiles at each other. 

“Oh! This is Cooper.” Lucy said, wandering back into the kitchen to pour three cups of coffee. “Cooper, this is Dane, they have come over to work on Tim’s old tractors.”

Cooper nodded, reaching a hand out to shake Dane’s, “Nice to meet you Dane, please excuse the mess, pipes seem t'have burst.”

“Not a problem, at least there is always coffee.” Dane nods, happily accepting the coffee Lucy hands over. 

“There is sugar in the gnome on the counter, cream is in the fridge.” Lucy says, handing Copper his mug of coffee. 

Cooper took a few sips, before helping Lucy place things in somewhat order on the counter. Lucy takes all the sopping wet towels into the laundry room hucking them into the washing machine. 

“We do have calf check, but I can show you where the tractors are. There is pretty much any tool you could need, along with an arrangement of parts.” Lucy chatters, as the trio make their way to the door.

Across the yard the three go to the big green and grey barn, Cooper helps slide the heavy wood doors open, Lucy had worked hard to get the place functional. It hadn’t had many animals in it, Tim had turned it into a workshop, engine hoist, and a large tool bench. The two tractors are slotted side by side. 

“This is perfect!” Dane beams, coming over to inspect the two beasts. “They look brand new! I bet I'll have them running by end of the day.”

“Thank you so much, Dane.” Lucy smiles, “I'll leave the house open, help yourself to whatever you need. We'll be about an hour or so barring any problems. You can always text me.”

Cooper was digging around on some shelving, grabbing some PEX pipe, fitting, and a few tools. “These should fix'd problem, I will drop’em off inside before we head out.”

Dane and Lucy stand there watching Cooper walk away. Lucy’s cheeks flush as she admires the man. Dane looks at Lucy, rubbing at the side of their face. 

“So are you two,” Dane makes a gesture between Cooper and Lucy, “A thing? Or?”

Lucy feels her face go even more red, she looks away for a moment, before looking back at her friend. “Umm, no. We are friends, neighbors. Helping each other out and whatnot.”

Dane chuckles as they go over to the closer tractor, “I am not one to judge,” Lucy watches them opening up one of the tractor’s bonnet. “Has he told you what happened to his wife?” 

Tilting her head to the side Lucy raises her eyebrows. “I know he is a widower. But I haven’t pushed any further than that.”

Dane nods, already starting to fiddle with different parts, “I’d ask him about it. Especially if you’re -ah- interested.”

A pool of anxiety fills Lucy’s stomach at the words, “Yeah, I will ask him.”

“We ready to go?” Cooper asks, Lucy nearly jumping at his voice having not heard him come up behind her. 

Lucy puts on a smile, reminding Dane again to call if there is any issue before leaving with Cooper. The man moving at a good clip to the already running truck. He opens the door for Lucy, she smiles and slides into the seat. It was hard not to let her mind run over Dane’s words. She needed to ask him, or she was going to explode. She wasn't good with secrets, or not asking questions she wanted answers to.

“Umm,” Lucy fiddles with the gloves in her pocket as they roll down the gravel road. “Can I ask you a question?”

Cooper’s brows are raised as he turns to her, “Yeah, I am an open book Luc.”

Lucy licks her lips, staring at the newly leafing trees, “Can I ask what happened to your wife?” 

Oh good Lucy, just straight to the point. No tack, for this poor guy who lost his wife, whose kids are still emotionally wrecked from it, Lucy thought to herself. Wishing she'd learn more tack as an adult.

Cooper shifts, sliding in his chair a little as he looks out the window. Lucy half expected him not to answer, or tell her that it was something he didn’t want to talk about. He gripped the steering wheel tight, knuckles white against the black leather.  Eyes focus on the gravel road ahead of them as he searches for the words.

“I was outta town, helpin’ my brother-in-inlaw move cows to summer pasture. I got a call around four from Barb’s parents, sayin’ she hadn’t come to pick up the kids. They’d gone to the house and she wasn’t t’either. Barb was a champion rider, Thunder, was’er ride. Big beautiful deep black stallion, she rode’im three times a day. Mornin' after droppin’ the kids off, afternoon before the kids came home, and evenin’ after dinner.” Cooper rolled his shoulders as they drove into the field. Lucy jumping out to open the gate, climbing back in once he was through and the gate was closed.

“I went’ome, drove way faster than I shoulda. But Barb. Barb was never late, the woman was punctual to a fault. So we searched, and searched, called the police. More searchin’. We had about forty acres mostly forest’d that Barb rode. That entire area scavenged, the house turn’d upside down, the barn gone through. They picked apart everythin’.” Cooper’s voice was shaking as they drove towards the herd. His eyes are glassy, as he rubs the back of his hand over his nose. 

“They tried-” His voice shook as his eyes continued to scan the horizon. “They tried’t blame her disappearance on me.”

Lucy felt her heart clench in her chest at the words, the thought that he’d been accused of his wife’s disappearance made her stomach turn.  

“But I was in another county, my brother-in-law, thankfully, vouchin for me.” Cooper points at a fresh calf, the two working with practice ease to tag the little thing.  

Cooper sat in the truck for a moment, eyes flickering, “Then we found Thunder.” Cooper works his lip into his mouth for a moment. “He’s on the side of the highway, inna ditch. Over a hour drive away from t’farm. Looked like he had been dumped. It made no sense, wasn't any sign of how the animal had pasted either, just restarted’eir investigation into me.” 

“Cooper,” Lucy said quietly, her hand finding his hand on the bench seat and squeezing it. 

Cooper nods his head but continues, squeezing her hand back. “They wouldn’t lay off, I did everythin’ to cooperate. Then after the third time of them tossin’ my house I blew up. I gotta lawyer, I told’em not to come back t’my property.” Another tag, and Lucy feels dizzy by the foggy emotions flooding the truck as she sits back down. 

“They’d everythin’ to turn everyone against me.” Cooper blinks a few times, “My in-laws stood beside me, pushin for the police to look anywhere. But nothin’ came of it. Just no answers, nothin', just gone.” 

Lucy brushed her own tears out of her eyes, so many questions bubbling under the surface. His hands gripping the steering wheel as he parked the truck on top of the hill looking out towards the valley. 

“T’was too hard to stay, the whole town won’t look at me.” Cooper swallows, “It won’t hav’been so bad if it has just been me, but they came after the kids too. Mathias was gettin’ picked on. That was the final straw, sold everything and left. They never figured out what happen’d to Barb. I think about her every day. Wondering what I could've done different.”

The silence in the vehicle was deafening, the two of them watching the cattle move along the lower field. Lucy’s heartbreaking hearing how Cooper had lost so much with no answers. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Lucy said quietly, her hand finding his again. “I can’t imagine how hard this must have been for you. To have to leave everything the two of you built.”

Cooper nods, his fingers lacing with Lucy’s, “t’was hard, I keep waitin’ for it to get easier. For there to be answers.”  Cooper turns looking at Lucy, hazel eyes looking over her face. “I am goin’ to be forward here.” Lucy nods her head, willing to hear whatever he had to say to her. “You’ve been a bright spot for me, I look forward to this.”

He gestures at the pasture, the sun hanging in the sky, clouds drifting in. Cows mooing for their calves, as the calves chased each other through the freshly growing green grass. It was so serene, postcard-worthy her Granddad would have said. 

“I look forward to spending time with you, Lucy,” Cooper states, eyes watching her closely, as the sunrises into the truck cab.

Lucy took her shot and slid across the bench seat, Cooper looking at her eyes wide as she leans in. Her hand gently touches the side of his face, the beard stubble rubbing under her fingertips as she presses her lips against his. Lucy going to lean away, when Cooper doesn't respond, Cooper immediately moves after her. Something has snapped in the truck, Cooper easily pulling Lucy onto his lap. She pushes his hat up so she can kiss him deeper, her hands moving up into his hair as he pulls Lucy against his chest. Lucy sucking his tongue into her mouth, the taste of coffee and cigarettes flooding in. His large hands come to rest against her hips, fingers running along the top of her jeans. 

Cooper breaks the kiss, Lucy wanting to chase after it, scared that if they stop it won’t continue. The smile crossing his face has her pausing, Lucy worrying her lip into her mouth. Copper’s fingers pushing under her shirt to feel her skin. A shiver running over Lucy’s skin at the feel of his calloused warm hands. 

“This isn’t how I imagined it,” Cooper hushes, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he looks at her. 

Lucy raises her eyebrows, “Oh? What did you imagine? Would it be weird if I said I was thinking about you too?”

Cooper’s smile gets bigger, “Was going to invite ya to the spring dance. Felt a little, ahh, school crush, but I want’d a reason for-” Cooper swallows, “A reason for us t’go somewhere nice.”

She can feel her cheeks red at the statement, “I’d go with you. If you still want to go.”

Cooper leans in and kisses her gently, “I’d like that Lucy.” 

***

Dane is covered in grease, a smile on their face as the larger of the two tractors starts up. Black smoke pumps out as the machine stutters to life, Dane doing a fist pump and jig as it roars. Lucy grins as Dane hops up and takes it for a spin around the yard, before parking it just outside the barn.

“Well, that one is running well. Have to get the attachments dug out, make sure the PTO is working the way it should be.” Dane beams, walking over to Lucy who has a sandwich on a plate for them. 

“I cannot thank you enough for getting it running again Dane,” Lucy replies, “I think the smaller shed has some attachments if you’re up for taking them out.”

“Yeah, I am gonna let this one run for a bit, I think I am going to need to source a few parts for the second one,” Dane says walking into the barn, holding up the pieces of what was supposed to be a part. “I’d normally make something, but this has to be calibrated properly.”

Lucy nodded, “Get what you need, I am not too surprised there are parts that need to be replaced. Whatever is needed, got to get’em running properly.”

Dane nodded, washing her hands with the hose before grabbing the sandwich, “I will keep at it, thank you for the food by the way.”

“Of course, and make sure you invoice me for everything, k?” Lucy states, Dane nodding as they continue to eat the food. 

Lucy walks back towards the house, head-turning up when she hears a car coming down the drive. A small blue Nissan rolling down the gravel, Lucy stopping in the middle of her drive to see who the hell it was. The car stops door opening up as Max steps out; average height, with tight black hair, dark skin, and equally dark eyes.

“Max?” Lucy asks as if she isn’t looking right at the man. He stands there awkwardly, not really smiling but not frowning either. He straightens himself up and closes the door walking towards her. 

“Hey Lucy,” Max grimaces awkwardly, rubbing a hand over the tight black curls on his head, “Sorry, it’s taking so long to get here.”

Crossing her arms, Lucy narrows her eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”

Max stops a few feet away from her, arms resting against his slides, “I wanted to come see you, it’s been a few months since we spoke.”

Lucy walks forward, anger pooling in the pit of her stomach, jaw clenching as she stares down her ex. “Yeah, 'cause we broke up. You didn’t want me moving back up here. Actually, I am pretty sure you said if I left not to bother contacting you. Seemed pretty cut and dry to me.”

Max opens his mouth several times before closing it, gritting his teeth and looking away. “I didn’t think you’d actually stop contacting me. We’d been together for almost a year.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Lucy huffs, her voice shaking, their relationship hadn’t been great. They’d met at the imaging clinic, Max was shy and a little awkward but charming. They’d hit it off over lunch one day, which led to him inviting her out to go with him for dinner. He was the opposite of what she had grown up around, it had been appealing at the time. Over time the charm had faded, and the sicker her Granddad got the worse their relationship got. It ended up with Max telling her that if she moved away they were done.

“Lucy, sweety,” Max goes to move to touch her and Lucy backs away. Max’s face falling, his mouth set in a thin line.

Throat clearing has both of them turning, Cooper stood on the front porch shirtless staring down Max like he was going to blow his head off with a glare. Lucy’s mouth opening slightly at the tan skin exposed before her, trying to get herself to focus on what was happening. 

“Not sure the lady here,” Cooper states walking down the steps towards them, “Is interested in your company.”

Max looks equally as flustered as Cooper steps beside Lucy, eyes downcast as his cheeks flush.

“I just wanted some closure.” Max swallows, looking away from the two of them. “Maybe change Lucy’s mind.”

Lucy let out a sigh, moving towards Max, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder. “Max, you’re a good guy, but we both know this wasn’t going to work out. You hate the outdoors and bugs, and you’re allergic to hay.”

Cooper had taken a few steps back, well-muscled arms crossed his chest as he watched the two of them. Dane had made their way down the hill, brows furrowing at the clear standoff happening. Max’s shoulders were tight as he listened to Lucy’s words.

“Is this what you want?” Max said finally turning back to her, his eyes glazing at the words. “Like to be here? On the farm.”

A tight-lipped smile graces Lucy’s face. “Yes Max, I think you knew that though. Knew it won’t work out between us.”

Max looks at the company in front of him, his hands fiddling with the pockets of his pants. Head ducked down like he was trying to make himself smaller. He nods his head several times. 

“Well, I guess that settles that,” He twitches his nose, looking out towards the forest. “I am staying in town for a few days, just visiting family. You got my number still?”

Lucy nods her head, desperately wanting to make things right, but knowing that it wasn’t worth it. Things needed to end between them, and if he needed to drive three hours to figure that out then so be it. 

“Goodbye, Max,” Lucy said quietly, Max nodding as he got back into his car to drive out. Her stomach turning, the thought that this wouldn’t be the last time she saw him gnawing at her mind.   

Part Seven

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Tag list: @toogaytofunctiondangit

*I can't believe we are 6 chapters in, this one is slow, but hold onto your hats for chapter 7!

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[velvetcloxds]

ALWAYS THE BRIDESMAID | J.H.

pairing: jasper hale x cullen!reader

word count: 2k

warning: friends in love but the one doesn't know it yet

summary: bella and edward's wedding day has you feeling somewhat envious of their love story

You felt awful, upset with your heart for the way it ached, for the way it shouted shots of anger, of envy, it was not at all what you'd expect of it on such a happy day. Bella and Edward danced below on the makeshift dance floor the vampires had very reluctantly created while you sat crossed-legged on the roof of the Cullen mansion- grateful for the darkness for allowing you to get lost despite the endless eyes that would search for you.

You had a great love for your brother and his new mate, happy that despite years, decades, of such grim, such overpowering sadness he finally allowed himself such mundane emotions of happiness. Maybe that was what had your heart drawing in upon itself. You didn't think yourself possible of such selfishness, being tormented by pity, by jealousy that reformed your decayed cells in a way that made you nauseous. You hated how your insides twisted, begged yourself, and willed yourself to remember the joy that swerved about your lost soul while planning this day.

But you knew where it came from, what it meant. Those were your flowers that cascaded down from the trees, your dress that flowed from Bella's life-kissed figure, your flower petals that spread towards your altar, your day, your dream. Yet you weren't there, it was everything you wanted and yet it belonged to them, you gave it to them, your dream and now you sit alone, rewatching it from the outside.

“Careful,” someone warned from behind you and were it not a warning you’d heard countless times before you’d not have been able to pin its owner down so quickly, the blond vampire swinging down from a branch and sinking down beside you, giving a soft sigh as he adjusted his suit jacket, about as unhappy with the fancy ordeal as you were, for very different reasons. “You might think yourself into a mess you can’t get out of,” he explained and you almost smiled, habitually moving closer to him, letting your shoulders touch as he looked down to search for the reason for your foul mood.

“You know, Jas, I was trying to hide away in peace,” you reprimanded, though he didn’t believe you, your emotions always betraying you, shifting as soon as he was close, it was as if your heart, despite all the wrong it did you, felt safest with Jasper, freely giving away your secrets to him and his senses.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” he argued, he was speaking in that charming, kind tone, you’d be silly thinking he reserved it just for you when really you were just most accustomed to it, prompting it from him much like he prompted calmness from you, a natural reaction despite your unnatural, supernatural existence. “You thought I came here for you?” you didn’t need to answer, he knew you did, and you knew it was true even if he was trying to pretend otherwise. “Very presumptuous.”

“Oh, you know me, always thinking about myself,” your words had a bite to them, thinking the present situation was the perfect time to remind yourself and your heart that no matter how much you wished it was, this wasn’t your day, and you had no right to wish it was.

“Hey now,” he breathed, disapproving of his words being turned into a real reprimand when really he was trying to talk you out of your head, talk you up from that hole you’d dug yourself into, help you crawl back to the surface to enjoy the day, it was a happy day after all, for everyone, or at least it was supposed to be. “What’s messing with your heart today?” you didn’t want to admit it, your selfish feelings, but you also knew that if anyone would be able to help you make sense of it, it would be your best friend, he’d not judge you for your short-sighted and very much unplanned pity party.

“Actually, I think it’s the other way around, think it’s messing with me,” you sighed, stealing a quick glance at him, sure the sight of him all dressed up and perfect would’ve made you blush had the blood still traveled through your veins, instead you managed a little hum, head tilting to take him in before looking back down to the newlyweds. “Can you feel what they’re feeling?” a puzzling question, leaving much to the imagination since you were sure they felt more than just one thing on a day like today, but somehow, as he always does, Jasper knew what you meant.

“That’s not what you want to ask me,” you hated that he could make that statement so casually, so surely, you also didn’t hate it all, you merely hoped he’d answer the real question without making you ask again. “Go on then,” he pushed, you wanted to roll your eyes, lightly shoving your shoulder against his instead, not missing the way his lips begged to tilt into a smile. “Ask me.”

“Can you feel their love?” he scoffed, unsatisfied, you were nearly there, almost at the point, it was dancing on the tip of your tongue, begging for release but you were being stubborn, he decided to be kind.

“I can’t feel it, per sé, it’s not just one single emotion, doesn’t just add up to one thing you can express, as complicated as love is, feeling it is much the same.” His pause was a courtesy, one he offered due to the disappointment that dipped into the air, flooded from you, and surrounded you just as your emotions often do for as entirely as you feel everything, you felt this in your soul, another stab at your heart, another knife in your icy coffin of life. “I can’t make you feel it either, can’t show you what it’s like,” he breathed and you couldn’t deny him the little nod you managed, not even thinking before you leaned your head against his shoulder, one hand snaking around his arm, other hand searching for his fingers and claiming them in yours as if they were your own.  “I would if I could, darling, you know that, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” you squeezed his arm lightly, not wanting him to think he’d disappointed you somehow simply by not being able to do the impossible, it’s just that living as you do, being what you are, the concept of impossible seemed so unspecified, so mundane. You had always longed for it, wished for it at night, dreamed of it during every moment of the day, you’d wanted more than anything to feel loved in all possible meanings of the word- yet it seemed more likely that Jasper could create a counterfeit version of it with his gift than someone truly feeling that way for you, about you. “Maybe someday I could feel it, really feel it,” you nearly whispered, you willed the words to sound hopeful, but even if your voice could pretend, your heart certainly couldn’t.

“I’m almost certain that you will,” Jasper promised and you hummed when he kissed the top of your head, your eyes not leaving the sight it had been trained on, the couple in question finally moving away from the dancefloor and by the smell of it, Edward had a howling surprise in store for his new wife.

“Do you think it’ll be worth it?”

“What?”

“Waiting,” you explained and you hadn’t noticed a rather lovely looking, yet slightly terrifyingly quiet Alice creeping up to join the pair of you. “Do you think he’ll be worth waiting for?”

“I certainly think so,” Alice sang, already making herself comfortable next to you, taking hold of your arm and gently forcing you onto her shoulder instead, pleased when the action earned her a little smile from your previously pouting lips. “Think you might not be waiting as long as you think,” she shrugged and you missed her eyes as they locked with Jasper’s, who was already looking at her, hope drowning his features as he fought his brows from furrowing.

“Don’t give me too much hope, Ali,” you said, happy that you had a distraction, her bracelets perfect to fiddle with as she let you move her hand into your lap, you were calming down, feelings simmered but uncertainty lingering, yet you were safe with your comfort people and though the love you shared with your family wasn’t what your heart wished for, it did fill most of the emptiness. “I love you guys,” you mumbled, smiling as Alice proceeded to pull you into a proper hug.

“We love you too,” Alice agreed and Jasper wished the moment would pass because Alice was many things but subtle was not one of them and the way she was looking at him was impossible to miss, even if you weren’t yourself right now. “Some more than others.”

“Oh, I know,” you agreed and when you pulled away to look at them you made sure to give Jasper an extra long smile, he was after all the one to try and make everything better first, even if it didn’t exactly work. “Jasper over here is a real softy for his best friend,” you giggled at that, loving the instant recoil at the words as he pulled you right back to him, being sure to hide the way he melted around you, so perfect, he found it awfully rude of his body to react so willingly to you when the chances of being with you were so slim, so impossible, but then again, just like you, he didn’t think impossible was all that big of an obstacle to overcome.

“That I am, darling,” he purred and with one last squeeze he let you go, already prepared to swoop you right off the roof and onto the dancefloor to take your mind off all that could be clouding it and remind your heart that love was already right there waiting for it, and he would be ready to show you- to tell you more about love and just how familiar he was with the feeling when you and your heart were ready.

“I won’t mind always being the bridesmaid if you’re the one walking down the aisle beside me,” you informed him, allowing him to guide you down from your hiding place, Alice made sure to leave a little space between herself and you two before following you down.

“You won’t always be the bridesmaid,” Jasper noted, not at all surprised when he looked down to where you were climbing the branches to find your shoes had long been abandoned, free hand trying to keep your dress out of the way.

“How do you know?” you demanded once settled on the ground, giving in to his fiddling as he tried to make your dress right, tilting his head slightly as he dusted the purple material of any dirt it might have picked up on your little adventure away from everyone.

“I have a feeling,” he was unnervingly charming as he smirked at you, happy that he could feel your nerves ease, all the horrid feelings that led him to search for you now masked by a sense of content and comfort- happiness, because of him. “Trust me,” you nodded, giving in to the mood of the party as you started dragging him to the very middle of the crowd, pleased that the song had changed pace and the bride and groom were away enjoying themselves in solace.

“I always do.” And you did, you knew him well enough to know he’d always tell the truth, always be honest, always bare his heart to yours, at least when he was ready to do so too.

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