#maybe I just want my favorite bottoms to have friends

[bsturnzmtt]

Can you write a fic where Matt overstimulates the reader until she has to use a safe word??

Red - M. Sturniolo

Jealous boyfriend

Paring: jealous!Matt x sub!reader

Contains/warnings: rough sex, overstimulation, usage of safe word, stomach bulge, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, dacryphilia, degradation, pet names, oral, aftercare.

Summary: You and Matt go to a party, but Matt gets jealous by your choice of clothing. He takes you home to put you on your place.

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Tonight you and your boyfriend Matt are going to a friends party. His brothers Nick and Chris are also going. You are currently getting ready in Matt’s bathroom, while he’s laying in bed ready, waiting for you to finish. He’s wearing a white t-shirt with some design in the middle, baggy jeans, and of course his signature rings.

“Are you ready yet?” Matt asked.

“Almost” you shout through the bathroom door.

“Okayyy, but hurry up.” He replies.

You add some finishing touches to your makeup, finish straightening your hair and add a good amount of your favorite perfume. You are wearing a tight black mini dress, black heels with red bottoms, and your normal jewelry. You take a glance at the mirror checking if everything’s perfect and exit the bathroom.

“I’m ready!” You say.

His eyes widen as you exit the bathroom, his gaze devouring you from head to toe. "You look... stunning." He says, his gaze roaming over your curves in the tight dress, lingering on the way the fabric clings to your thighs. He walks over, standing close to you as he looks at you. "But maybe a little too stunning. Isn’t that dress a little too short?”

You roll your eyes and look down at the dress. “It’s fine Matt.”

He reaches down, moving one strap of the dress up a little, his fingers trailing along the exposed skin of your shoulder as he does so. "It's fine?" He repeats, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "No, it's not fine. I don't want all those guys at the party drooling over you.” He reaches out, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “I don't want any other guy looking at what's mine."

“Come on Maaaatt, it’s not even that revealing, and I really like this dress. I think it looks good on me.” You say.

His jaw clenches at your persistence, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "You think it looks good on you?" He repeats, his voice low and husky. "You have no idea how good you look in that dress. And that's the problem. So-“ he was about to say something else but Nick interrupted him.

“Are you guys ready? We have to get going.” Nick shouts from the kitchen.

“Let’s just go, okay?” You say with a smile and give Matt a kiss on the cheek. “Yes! We’re ready.” You respond to nick.

Matt scowls at being interrupted, "Fine." He mumbles as he watches you grab your purse and head towards the door. "Hold up," he calls out, catching your wrist in a firm grip. "Not so fast. I want to make one thing clear."

“What?” You ask.

Matt's eyes narrow, his gaze intense as he looks at you. "You're mine. You're my girlfriend.” he says, his voice low and firm, his eyes locked onto yours. “You don't leave my side, you don't talk to any other guys, you don't even look at them for too long." His voice is low and authoritative, his grip on your wrist unyielding. “Got it?"

“Of course Matt” you say reassuring him and give another kiss but this time on his lips.

Matt's expression softens at your kiss, and he wraps his free arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, deepening the kiss for a moment before slowly breaking it off. He lets out a sigh and smiles down at you. “Let’s go.”

You guys head downstairs where Chris and Nick are waiting. As you head downstairs, Matt stays close behind you, his hand resting on the small of your back. When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you see Chris and Nick standing by the door, chatting and laughing. Then Chris turns and says. “Finallyyyy.”

Matt holds the door open for you as you slide into the passenger seat of the car, then walks over to the driver's side and climbs in. His brothers riding on the back seat. He starts the engine and pulls out of the driveway, soon merging onto the road that leads towards the party.

After 10 minutes, Matt pulls up to a large house in a quiet suburban neighborhood. The front yard is packed with cars, and the sound of loud music can be heard from inside the house. Matt parks the car and turns off the engine. “We’re here”

“Yess!” Chris says excited.

"Come on, let's go," Matt says, opening the car door and stepping out. He offers you his hand to help you out of the vehicle. As you take his hand, he gives it a squeeze, a silent reminder of his possessiveness. "Stick close to me, okay?"

You nod and walk into the party.

As you walk into the party, the loud music and chatter envelop you. Matt stays close, his hand still wrapped around yours. You make your way through the crowded room, nodding and smiling at people you recognize. The smell of beer and sweat hangs in the air, and the bass thumps through the floor.

Matt looks down at you, his eyes shining with intensity. His grip on your hand tightens. "I mean it, Stay close," he growls. As he says it, he pulls you a little closer to him, just a small step.

You chuckle “Yesss Matt.”

Matt's face softens, and he gives you a small, flirtatious smile. "Good," he says, his voice low and husky. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "I don't want anyone else getting too close to you."

You laugh a bit at his jealousy and lean in to give him a short kiss. “Let’s dance.”

Matt's eyes flash with desire at your kiss, and he growls low in his throat. He nods, a slight smirk on his face. "Yeah, let's dance." He pulls you onto the dance floor, the two of you moving to the beat as his strong arms wrap around you.

Matt holds you close, his thigh moving against yours as you dance. The heat between you two rises uncomfortably. And every time he pulls you close, pressing his lips against yours, you can't help but melt against him.

“I’m gonna go get a drink, okay?” You say to Matt.

Matt's eyes narrow, a flicker of possessiveness sparking in them. "Alright," he says, but there's an underlying tension in his voice. "but don't be long." He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing you, watching you go with an eagle's gaze.

As you’re walking towards the bar a guy ‘accidentally’ bumps into you almost making you fall but he grabs you by the waist so you don’t fall. “I’m so sorry,” the guy says. “Uhm it’s fine don’t worry.” You say pulling his hands away.

Matt's eyes are glued to the guy who just touched you. He clenches his fists and starts making his way towards you with a menacing stride. "Is there a problem here?" he says, getting between you and the stranger.

“Matt, he accidentally bumped into me.” You explain.

Matt's gaze is still fixed on the guy, his eyes blazing with barely contained anger. "Accidentally?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. He takes another step forward, crowding the stranger. "You sure that's all it was?"

You grab Matt's arm trying to pull him away. “Matt-“

Matt's arm stiffens under your grip, but he doesn't budge. His eyes are still locked on the stranger, who's starting to look uncomfortable. "Let's go," Matt growls, he turns to look at you. "Now." His tone is low and commanding, brooking no argument.

“What? Where?” You ask confused.

Matt takes your hand, practically dragging you away from the bar. "Home," he says gruffly. "Now." His jaw is clenched, the anger and possessiveness simmering just below the surface.

“Why!? We literally just got here!” You exclaim.

Matt stops in his tracks, turning to face you with a fire in his eyes. "I don't like the way that guy was looking at you," he growls. "I don't like the way he touched you." He takes a step closer, invading your personal space.

“It was an accident.” You say.

Matt's expression turns incredulous, his nostrils flaring. "An accident? Are you kidding me? He takes another step forward, his large frame towering over you. “Why are you defending him? You like him? You liked the way he grabbed you by the waist? How he was looking at you?” his voice is low and intense.

“Wha- Matt, no!” You say.

Matt's face darkens, his eyes flashing with a mix of jealousy and anger. "Then why are you still standing here arguing with me?" He grabs your hand, his grip tight. "We're leaving. Now." His tone leaves no room for discussion, commanding you to obey his orders without question.

Matt starts walking towards the exit, practically dragging you behind him. His grip on your hand is tight and unyielding, a silent warning that he's not in the mood for any arguments. The jealousy and anger are still bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to explode at any moment.

As you stumble to keep up with Matt's long strides, he suddenly stops in front of the car, yanking open the door. "Get in," he growls, his voice still tight with anger.

“What about Chris and Nick?” You ask.

Matt's jaw tics as he grits his teeth. "They can fucking find their own way home," he snaps, his eyes blazing. He takes a step closer, his face inches from yours. "Now, get in the car, before I lose my patience completely."

You quietly get in the car.

Matt slams the door shut behind you, the sound echoing through the quiet night air. He takes a deep breath, his chest heaving, before stalking around to the driver's side and getting in.Matt starts the car, the engine purring to life. He grips the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. For a few moments, he just sits there, staring straight ahead. Finally, he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I told you that dress is too fucking short, too revealing. But you decided to be a little slut and stay with it, hm?”

“Matt-

Matt cuts you off, his voice low and menacing. "No, you don't get to talk back to me right now. You're lucky I'm not pulling over and bending you over the seat." He takes a hard right turn onto a secluded road, the headlights casting eerie shadows on the trees.

Matt's eyes flicker to you, his gaze burning with intensity. "You think you're so innocent, don't you? But I know what you're doing. I know you're trying to drive me crazy, to make me jealous. Well, it's working."

“I’m not, I swear.” You say.

Matt scoffs, his grip on the wheel tightening. "You expect me to believe that? After everything that's happened tonight, you expect me to believe that you weren't trying to make me jealous?" He turns towards you, his eyes meeting yours. "Fucking try again, sweetheart."

Matt's face twists in anger, his voice rising. "You want to play games with me? Fine. Let's play. But you need to understand, I always win." His hand reaches out, his fingers brushing against your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine. After a few minutes you guys arrive home.

As soon as the car stops, Matt is out the door and pulling you along behind him. He practically drags you inside the house, slamming the door shut behind you both. Once inside, he spins you around to face him, his eyes wild with a mix of anger and desire.

“Matt I-

Matt's hand comes up, silencing you as he crashes his mouth onto yours in a brutal, possessive kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming you as his, as his hands roam your body, grabbing, squeezing, marking you as his. Matt's kisses become more frantic, his hands tearing at your clothes, desperate to have you bare before him. Once your clothes are off, he scoops you up, carrying you upstairs to his bedroom and tossing you onto the bed.

Matt climbs onto the bed, crawling over to you, his eyes full of hunger. He hungrily kisses down your body, pausing at your breasts to give each nipple a hard suck, before continuing downwards to the apex of your thighs.

“Mmh” you whine.

Matt grins up at you, his eyes dark with lust as he spreads your legs wider, his fingers running along your inner thighs, teasing, toying with you before finally, he dips his head and licks at your pussy, his tongue delving deep, fucking you with it as he devours you.

“Mmhp fuck Matt” you moan at the sudden pleasure.

Matt growls in response, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh as his tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit, his fingers curling inside you, stroking your inner walls, coaxing your release. "You like that, baby? You like me eating you out, making you cum on my face?"

You nod pathetically. “Mhm feels so good.” You moan.

"Fuck, you're such a dirty little slut for me," Matt growls, increasing the pace of his tongue and fingers, his mouth slurping loudly at your pussy as he fucks you harder.

“Matt I’m so close” you moan arching your back.

"Cum for me, baby," Matt urges, sucking hard on your clit while he rubs his fingers over that sensitive spot inside you, pushing you over the edge, "Fuck, that's it, cum all over my face."

You let out a loud moan as you cum hard.

Matt laps up your release greedily, his tongue swirling around your clit, prolonging your pleasure. As you come down from your high, he pulls back, his chin dripping with your arousal, and grins up at you with a possessive, satisfied look. "You taste so fucking good, baby.”

"I'm not close to done yet, baby," Matt says, climbing up your body. He takes your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You quickly melt into the kiss letting out a moan.

Matt's hands roam your body, caressing your curves as he deepens the kiss, his hardness pressing against your thigh. He breaks away, panting, and gazes into your eyes, his own burning with desire. "I need to be inside you, baby. Now."

“Mh please Matt.” You whine.

Matt positions himself between your legs, his thick cock bobbing as he lines up with your entrance. With a powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he starts to move, pounding into you with ruthless intensity.

“Fuck! Matt” you moan in pleasure and pain at him stretching you out, not letting you adjust.

"You feel that, baby? You feel how deep I am in you?" Matt pants, his hips snapping forward relentlessly, each thrust pushing you up the bed. He grips your hips hard, angling them to take him even deeper, causing your belly an outline of his dick.

“Mmhp”

Matt's breath hitches as he watches you, his eyes blazing with a fierce, possessive hunger. He leans down, capturing your lips in another bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as he pistons into you, each stroke hitting that spot inside that makes your vision blur. His hands go down to your stomach bulge pressing on it.

“Mmh Matt” you moan.

"That's right baby, take all of me. Fuck, you're so tight and wet," Matt groans, feeling the rhythm building between you.

“Matt I’m gonna cum” you whine.

"Cum for me, baby, cum all over my cock," Matt commands, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release. He pinches your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts, pushing you towards the edge.

“Mmhp fuck” you moan as you cum.

Matt's cock throbs as he feels your pussy clench around him, milking him for every drop. With a guttural grunt, he buries himself deep and erupts, painting your insides with his hot seed.

You lay there with your legs already weak, trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck, you liked that?” Matt says, pulling out from you.

You nod slowly.

Matt smiles, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face as he collapses beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. "Good," he whispers, his breathing still ragged. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

“What?” You ask.

Matt's eyes glint with mischief as he starts to nibble on your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "I said, I'm not done with you yet," he repeats, his voice low and husky. "We're just getting started."

Matt starts to explore your body with his hands, cupping your breasts and tweaking your nipples. He then trails his fingers down your stomach, making you gasp as he gently grazes over your still sensitive mound before delving between your legs again.

“Mhh Matt” you whine as you feel your pussy getting wet again.

"Good girl," Matt praises, his fingers teasingly dancing around your pussy lips before plunging in deep, fucking you with them. "You're so fucking wet for me. You want more, don't you?"

You moan as you lean your head back. “Mhm” you nod.

"That's what I thought," Matt says, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl. He adds a third finger, stretching you open as he pumps them in and out at a relentless pace.

“Ahh fuck”

"You like that?" Matt grins, leaning down to suck on your nipples, his fingers still driving into you relentlessly. "You're so fucking sexy when you lose control like this."

“Matt, I'm so close, I’m gonna cum” you moan.

Matt feels your pussy clenching around his fingers as you get closer to the edge. He sucks harder on your nipples, fucking you faster and deeper until you finally cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. "That's it, baby,"

With tears of pleasure running down your cheek you moan loudly as you cum.

Matt watches your face as you cum, feeling incredibly satisfied seeing the pleasure he's giving you. He slows down his fingers, gently milking the last of your orgasm from your sensitive pussy. "Fuck, that was hot,"

Matt grins, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them up to his mouth, sucking your juices off them. "You taste as good as you look, baby," he growls. “I want more.” He leans down, his head in between your thighs.

Matt's tongue snakes out, licking your pussy from top to bottom, sending shivers down your spine. He focuses on your clit, sucking and licking it until you're moaning again, your body trembling with pleasure.

“Mhh Matt too much” you whine.

Matt ignores your protests and continues his relentless assault on your clit, his tongue flicking and swirling around it as he devours your pussy like a man starved. He knows just the right spots to touch, suck, and lick to drive you wild.

“Maaatt” you moan in overstimulation as you try to push his head away.

Matt doesn't stop, he continues to lick and suck your clit. He teases your entrance with his fingers, dipping them in slightly before pulling back out. He wants to push you over the edge again and make you cum even harder this time.

“Fuck Matt Mmhp” you moan in pain and pleasure arching your back.

Matt grins against your pussy, his tongue doing its magic as it swirls around your throbbing clit. His fingers finally enter you, plunging deep into your wet and aching sex, thrusting in and out in sync with his tongue on your clit.

“Matt I-“ you moan loudly as you squirt on his fingers, feeling a kind of pleasure you’ve never felt before.

"Fuck yes, squirt for me baby," Matt growls, his fingers pumping harder as you gush around him, your juices coating his hand. He sucks your clit harder, his tongue lashing against it as he drinks down every drop of your release.

“Mmhp Matt stop” you cry feeling overstimulated.

Matt doesn't stop right away, he pulls back slowly, easing you down from your high before completely pulling his fingers out of your dripping wet pussy. He licks his fingers clean, his gaze never leaving yours as he smirks. “I want you to squirt on my dick”

With tears still running down your cheeks you say “Matt I- I can’t”

"Can't or won't?" Matt challenges, his voice low and intense. He rises up, towering over you, his dominant presence filling the room. "You're going to squirt on my dick, and you're going to do it like a good girl for me,"

Matt's eyes flash with desire as he takes in your half-hearted protest. He grabs your hips, pulling you towards him as he positions himself at your entrance. "You're going to take my cock, and you're going to love every second of it," he growls, his tip teasing your still-sensitive pussy.

“Mmmmh Maaatt”

Matt slams into you with a powerful thrust, burying his thick cock deep inside your tight heat. He sets a punishing pace, driving into you over and over, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each stroke.

Your vision blurs and you moan in overstimulation.

"That's right, moan for me," Matt growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounds into you. He leans down, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he whispers, "You're mine, and I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."

“Ma- Matt mmhfp t-too much” you whine.

Matt ignores your whimpers, continuing to pound into you with reckless abandon. He reaches between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and pinching it hard, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through your oversensitized body. "You're mine, and I'll use you however I want,"

Your back arches and tears run down your face. “Ahh mmph”

Matt's eyes gleam with triumph as he feels your body begins to surrender to his unrelenting assault. He fucks you harder, faster, his cock brutalizing your pussy as he drives you towards the edge of a violent orgasm. "Yes, cum for me, baby,"

“Ma- Matt I’m going to c- cum” you moan.

Matt's face twists into a feral snarl as he feels your body tense up, your pussy muscles contracting around his cock as you reach the precipice. "Do it," he growls, his hips pounding into you with increased ferocity. "Come all over my cock, baby."

One last thrust and you squirt hard all over his dick, your body trembling.

Matt roars with triumph as he feels your pussy spasm around him, your juices gushing out in a hot, sticky torrent. He buries himself to the hilt, grinding against your cervix as he unleashes his own release, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he fills you with his seed.

Your legs still trembling from the pleasure.

Matt grins triumphantly, withdrawing his cock from your well-used pussy with a wet, squelching sound. He reaches down, kissing you. “One more. You can give me one more, yeah?”

Matt's eyes gleam with amusement at your speechless response, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw as he tilts your face up to his. "Oh, you can't even talk? That's how I know I did it right," he whispers, his voice husky with satisfaction.

Matt's gaze darkens as he takes in your flushed, disheveled appearance, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He smirks, leaning in close, his breath hot against your ear. "I'm going to make you cum again, baby. And again.”

Matt's hands roam your body, his touch possessive and demanding as he turns you over onto your stomach. He positions himself behind you, his hard cock pressing against your entrance as he spreads your legs wide. "Get ready, because this time, I'm going to fuck you raw,"

Matt slams into you without warning, his thick cock driving deep into your pussy with a brutal force that steals your breath. He sets a punishing pace, his hips slapping against your ass with each rough thrust as he takes you with unbridled aggression.

You let out a scream. “Ahh Matt mmh too much stop.”

Matt's eyes flash, his grip on your hips tightening until it's almost painful. "You think that's too much?" he growls, pulling out before slamming back into you with a force that makes you cry out.

Matt's thrusts become more desperate, his cock throbbing deep inside of you as he claims you over and over again. "I could fuck you like this for hours,"

”s-stoop” you cry.

Matt's face contorts with a mix of lust and possessiveness as he hears your pleas. He reaches down, his fingers finding your clit and pinching it roughly. His hips still pounding into you with relentless intensity.

Feeling too much pain and overstimulation you scream out the safe word. “Red! Red”

Matt's movements freeze immediately at the sound of your safe word. He withdraws from you, his cock slipping out with a wet sound. His breathing is ragged as he turns to face you, concern etched on his features. "Fuck, baby, I'm sorry. I got carried away.

Upon seeing you're still in pain, Matt quickly moves to gather you in his arms, holding you close as he kisses your forehead softly. "I'll make it up to you, I promise," he whispers, genuinely remorseful. "I didn't mean to hurt you, love.”

“It’s fine Matt, don't worry, i- it was just too much” you say and hug him back.

Matt's arms tighten around you as he holds you close, his chin resting on top of your head. "I should have been more mindful. You're always my priority, and I fucked that up," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "Let me take care of you, okay?"

Matt carefully pulls back and looks at you, his thumb gently brushing aside a stray tear from your cheek. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," he offers softly as he helps you out of bed and leads you towards the bathroom.

In the bathroom, Matt starts the shower for you and checks the water temperature to ensure it's comfortable. He then helps you into the shower, making sure you're steady on your feet before joining you under the warm spray.

You chuckle at his sweet actions. “Thank you Matt. I'm fine by the way.” You reassure him.

A small, genuine smile tugs at the corners of Matt's mouth at your reassurance. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you back against his naked chest as the water cascades over you both. "I know you are, baby, but I still need to make sure," he says, his deep voice filled with affection. "You mean everything to me." he replies, his voice gentle as he reaches for the soap and begins to lather it on your skin.

You smile at his words and give him a kiss on the cheek.

Matt's eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, clearly pleased by the gentle kiss. He turns his head, catching your lips in a soft, tender kiss. The soap slips from his fingers, forgotten, as he focuses on the gentle moment between you. "I love you,"

“I love you more” you say.

Matt's smile widens, and he deepens the kiss, his lips moving slowly and sweetly against yours. As you break apart for a breath, he whispers, "Impossible. I love you infinitely." He pauses, his eyes locking onto yours, filled with adoration.

You giggle into the kiss.

After a few minutes he washes the soap off you and grabs a towel and puts it over you.

Matt wraps the towel around your warm, damp body and lifts you effortlessly into his arms, cradling you against his chest. "Let's get you dried off and into something comfortable," he says, his voice still gentle from your shared moment in the shower.

Matt carries you out of the bathroom and into your bedroom, setting you down on the edge of the bed. He quickly retrieves a soft t-shirt and sweatpants from your dresser and helps you into them, making sure you're snug and cozy before letting the towel fall to the floor. "There, all better?"

“Yes! Thank you” you hug him and give him a soft kiss.

Matt hugs you back, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he returns the kiss with equal tenderness. He holds you close for a moment, enjoying the warmth and comfort of your embrace. "Anytime, love," he murmurs against your lips before pulling back slightly to gaze at you with a warm smile.

“Let’s go to bed, I'm tired.” You say yawning.

"Bed it is," Matt agrees, his voice low and soothing. He helps guide you under the covers, making sure you're nestled in comfortably before climbing in himself. Once settled, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. He grabs his phone and chuckles. “Two unread messages from Nick”

You chuckle “what do they say?”

“‘Wow thanks for telling us you went home’ ‘we are taking an Uber’ that was ten minutes ago” Matt chuckles as he reads the texts.

“Ten minutes ago?” You ask.

“Yeah, they’ll be here anytime soon. Why?” Matt asks.

“Matt! My clothes are still downstairs!” You say.

Matt was about to speak but he heard noise downstairs, the front door opening and some voices.

“Shit” you both say.

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TY TY FOR 900 FOLLOWERS ❤️🫶🏻😩

This is a little bit rushed but I hope you guys like it

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[buckyalpine]

I was thinking about Bucky. A beefy Bucky. A beefy mob Bucky. Who is such a simp. I think now is the perfect time to talk about it cause I need some fluff and look at that, it's also my favorite @wifeofbarnes birthday!

Happy birthday sweet angel, I hope you have one filled with so much love ❤️️❤️️

-

Imagine a brooding beefy mob Bucky pining after his rivals sweet, shy daughter. He has no business liking her, her father was always teetering on the edge of putting a bullet between Bucky's eyebrows but Bucky couldn't help it. She's too cute. Too sweet. Everyone knows there's something between you both between the fleeting glances and the number of times Bucky's left with a blush on his cheeks whenever your around.

For someone who hates meetings, he's more than fond of going to your estate to talk over business with a man he hates so much. He's going to go to every single one of those meeting if it means he gets to see you. He never gets more than a few moments, no more than a few words before he's dragged away by Steve who isn't trying to get stabbed by one of your bodyguards.

-

Bucky swirls his crystal glass, the ice in clinking against each other as he takes a sip of amber liquid, seated at a private booth at the back of the club. The alcohol that's already warming his body heats him up even more when he sees you laughing and giggling with your friends, a cute little birthday girl tiara on top of your head.

Fuck, you were so perfect.

"You're staring again, you creep" Steve snorts but Bucky pays him no mind. He's too busy looking at you in your pretty dress, your hips swaying to the music. Tipsy, maybe even a little drunk, love sick Bucky wants nothing more than to get a moment alone with you but he's smart enough to wait.

Well, sort of.

"Go distract her bodyguards"

"You're going to get us killed"

"Then you'll die knowing it was for a good cause"

Sam and Steve shake their head as they wander off to find your security team, quietly instigating a small scuffle to keep them occupied. You step outside waiting for your car to pull up, frowning when a large black truck stops in front of you instead. The door opens and-

"Bucky, what are you doing!" you squeak as he pulls you into the back of his SUV, setting you on his lap before telling his driver to park in a secluded area and to leave for a "smoke break".

"I wanted to say hi" Bucky shrugs innocently as if its the most obvious thing in the world.

"And this is how you decided to say hi?" You giggle, feeling butterflies bustle around your tummy being so close to him. You could smell his cologne and the warm scent of whiskey clinging onto his lips; you wanted nothing more than to bury yourself into him. The pink on his cheeks deepened at you caught him in his little act, pretending he wasn't admiring you from afar the whole time.

"I didn't know it was your birthday" He shrugs again while you try to wiggle off his lap, worried someone might see you but he huffs and holds you tighter. "The windows are tinted" he reads your mind without you saying anything, feeling your body relax slightly.

"Wish you'd said hi to me earlier" You say with a sigh and Bucky doesn't like the way you look sad now. You would've loved to spend more time with him instead of hiding away like this.

"I can drop you home" He offers with a boyish smile and you shake your head because it's far too risky and there's no way you'd be able to get away with it and sneak it past your father.

"Not unless you plan on posing as the cleaning lady-

"I can do that"

"Bucky-

"I can pull off a maids dress"

"James"

"Then how about a birthday kiss" He cocked his head to the side playfully and you swear your cheeks couldn't get any hotter.

"Bucky-

"Just one birthday kiss?" He pouts and you can't believe this mass of tattoos and muscle is giving you puppy eyes with his pink bottom lip jutting out.

"I-

"Please, sugar?" He whispers, his fingers tracing nimble little shapes on your hips while you chew your lip nervously, giving him a nod because you can no longer formulate words. He leans down to press his lips softly against yours and you sigh at the little whimper he lets out, his hands pawing at you to hold you closer. He feels all warm and fuzzy on the inside, letting his arms hug your body extra tight.

"Another?" He whispers, lips brushing against yours with a plea in his voice and you giggle, kissing him again.

"One more?"

"Bucky"

"Please?" He smiles when you kiss him until you're both breathless, only pulling away when you need air.

-

Imagine how cute he'd be trying to spend more time with you as discreetly as possible. You're usually at home so that's his best bet so he'll work with what he can.

"Why is this large fuck around my house so often" Your father rubbed his temples seeing another message for a meeting to go over shipments and territories. "Seriously, he's here almost every week"

Bucky is able to pull it off for a bit but honestly not for long. He's sitting across your father and it's gotten to the point his guards don't bother waiting by the door because Bucky isn't even a threat. He always comes and goes like it's his own house and they're not blind, silently betting over if this will end in a war or wedding.

"For fucks sake are you here to see me or my daughter" your father finally huffs, no longer able to take Bucky's blushing and shifting after you left his office to give him a coffee. "You're here to see her, aren't you"

Bucky nods like a school child who got caught cause knows he hasn't been discreet with his crush. Your father contemplates tossing Bucky into the lake with rocks tied to his ankles but he's also seen the way you look at him and there's no doubt the feelings are mutual.

"God damnit"

Imagine wedding and 2 babies later, Bucky is still just as in love with you. The cutest part is he's still trying to be sneaky.

"You're married now, why the hell are you still trying to hide" Your father berates the mob boss while bouncing his grandson in his lap seeing Bucky tug you into the kitchen so he could kiss you. "You're 6 feet tall and built like a line backer, you can't exactly hide, son"

Bucky pouts at you while you giggle hearing your father snort from the living room.

"He's right, y'know" you nuzzle into your husband while he engulphs you in his arms. You squeal when he hoists you up instead and makes a beeline towards the bedroom. You still stir something in him to this day and since your dad was there to babysit anyway...

"Bucky, where are we going"

"To go make baby #3"

[fangisms]

hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific

darling socialite

A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words

Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)

Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.

Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.

"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"

Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"

"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."

"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"

"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"

"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.

"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"

Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.

If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.

You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.

It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."

"What are you talking about, P?" you say.

"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"

"Thanks, Pansy," you say.

"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"

You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.

…

There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.

"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.

"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"

"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"

"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."

Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.

And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.

"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.

"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.

"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"

Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.

"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."

You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.

"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."

It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.

"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"

He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.

“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.

“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.

“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”

He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.

“Like that?” he says.

“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”

He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”

“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”

masterlist

[shaguro]

synposis: the story of how you met your sugar-daddy, nanami, at the cafe you work at. ♡ (the prequel to this drabble!)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: sugar daddy nanami! (college student/barista reader x coo nanami), reader is fem, age gap (nanami is 30, reader is 24.), ceo gojo cameo at the start, flirty nd playful banter btwn reader nd nanami, anna is reader's coworker nd friend. nanami calls reader sweetheart once, nanami is just smitten with her as soon as he sees her. sweet fluff! as a whole, this is very light-hearted and unserious y'all. — w.c: 2.2k. ♡

angel's note: consider this my official comeback from my hiatus! thank you so much @preciousamethyst for beta-reading, love you downn. ♡

“you’re telling me out of the five blind-dates that i set up . . . you didn’t like any of them? not even a little bit?” satoru asks incredulously, the french-vanilla latte in his hand almost spilling on the table as he leans forward. “you’re too damn picky, nanamin! they all seemed like nice, respectable ladies to me.”

nanami sighs, looking up from his laptop with an annoyed expression on his face. “the last one didn’t have any teeth . . . and can you keep it down? i’m trying to focus and you’re making a scene, as usual.”

“oh, heh. my bad.”

nanami’s eyes linger on the white-haired man for a moment before focusing on the screen in front of him again. he’s not sure why satoru tagged along to this new cafe with him on his lunch break. (when he clearly stopped visiting his favorite one to avoid him.) it’s not like nanami could say no, anyway — satoru is his boss. his annoying and extremely invasive boss who always finds a way to be in his way and in his business.

it goes without saying that his dating life is certainly not off-limits.

unwrapping the chocolate eclair he just bought, satoru takes a bite of the puffy pastry, humming once the sugary goodness hits his tastebuds. “you were right, nanamin. this does taste amazing.“ he pauses between his words to lick chocolate off his bottom lip, then off his fingers. “maybe we need to try a different approach . . . dating apps! ever tried tinder or bumble—“

“no.” nanami slams his laptop closed, shooting all satoru’s incoming questions down. “i don’t need your help. let’s try ‘letting things happen naturally and staying out of my business’ for a change, yeah?”

“but i have everything planned out! it’ll take me two seconds to make your profile and i have the perfect bio for you — thirty year old trick looking for a pretty woman to spend all my money on — how’s that sound?”

“terrible.” nanami deadpans, placing his laptop into his briefcase. he lifts the sleeve of his shirt, checking the time on his breitling navitimer before standing from his seat. “you have fun with that. i’m getting my pastry to go, i’ll see you back at the office.”

satoru’s jaw is on the floor. “but, nanami—“

without another word, nanami leaves a whining gojo to make his way towards the line that was, thankfully, empty. the baristas don’t notice him, backs turned while they talk to each other by the back counter and nanami doesn’t mind — it gives him more time to decide on what pastry he wants anyway.

truly, he doesn’t understand the obsession surrounding his love life. while nanami is looking, he is by no means desperate. even he knew it was a bad idea to present yourself as a sugar daddy on a dating app, unless you’re an idiot or just lacking a single ounce of dignity.

both categories that satoru fits into, nanami thinks. 

kneeling slightly for a better view at the assorted desserts behind the crystalline-glass case, nanami’s unsure of which one to choose. this cafè’s selection is extensive, they offer much more than what he’s used to; tarts, cakes and pastries that he’s never even seen before. ultimately, he opts to keep it simple with one of his favorites: a fluffy cinnamon roll with extra vanilla glaze.

“girl, i’ve been working real hard and i still don’t have enough saved to pay tuition.” you murmur, scooping a handful of coffee grounds into the filter and shaking the brew funnel to level them. “i’m stressed out.”

nanami’s eyes flicker to where the two of you stand. while he’s never considered himself to be a nosy man, he finds his focus shifting from his lunch to the conversation you’re having, ears perked in interest as he continues to weigh his other options.

your co-worker, anna, gives you a reassuring pat on the back, her face itched downward in concern. “yeah, you were telling me about that last week . . . how much more do you need?”

“around like five-hundred more.” you sigh, brushing your hands off on your apron. anna starts to speak but you stop her with a raise of your palm, already knowing what she’s thinking. “and yes, i’ve taken out loans already. my loans have loans at this point.”

anna raises her brows. “so what are you going to do?”

“i’m out of options.” you shrug, adjusting the valves on the coffee machine to their correct settings. with a heavy sigh, you lean your head on her shoulder with a pout on your glossed lips, “it’s either i start an onlyfans or god sends me a rich old man that wants to be my sugar-daddy.”

anna giggles and playfully swats your arm. even in a serious moment like this, you find a way to lighten the mood. she plays along, tapping her chin with her index finger, “hmm, that can work! maybe you can start stripping. you watched the tiktoks i sent you, right? they touch thousands on a good night.”

“oh my god, i didn’t even think of that!” you stand straight and cup your hands on your breasts through your shirt, poking your ass out a bit. “i might need a boob job and bbl if i wanna be serious about it, though . . . plus, isn’t twenty-four a little too old to start stripping?”

“girl, please. twenty-four isn’t old and you know that. you have a nice body and you’re pretty. they’ll throw stacks just based off that, trust me —”

that whole sugar-daddy thing that satoru was suggesting doesn’t sound half as bad to nanami, right now. you get the money you need and he gets to spend time with you, it’s a win-win.

“she’s right,” nanami agrees, unable to hold back the chuckle that leaves his mouth when the both of you literally jump at the sound of his voice, whipping your bodies around to see just who that deep, smooth timbre belonged to. “you’re very pretty miss . . .” his brown eyes shift down to your name-tag. “ . . . ( name ).”

you blink once, twice — lips slightly parted, heat slowly rising to your face once his sweet compliment slowly registers in your brain and how your name flowed so easily off his tongue. just looking at this man, you can tell that he has money. he’s handsome, even more so as your eyes shift from his chiseled face down to his body. nanami stands tall, he must be around six feet. sporting a white dress-shirt and navy-blue slacks that match his tie, nanami is built. the soft cotton of his shirt clings to his biceps, outlining each vein and curve. the very top of his shirt is unbuttoned, exposing a sliver of his toned chest underneath.

there is no way god answered your prayers this quickly.

in a trance, you stare at nanami like a deer in headlights, completely enamored until anna nudges your arm, snapping you back to reality. she whispers a curt ‘you better talk to that man, girl’ in your ear and that’s you realize that you didn’t even thank him yet, how rude. 

“o-oh, thank you.” you move towards the register, giving nanami a sheepish smile whilst drumming your french-tip acrylics against the granite counter. “so um . . how much of that did you hear?”

“hmm . . . most of it.”

“the onlyfans part too?”

nanami nods with a grin. “and the old rich sugar daddy part.”

you cover your face with your hand, letting out a long sigh. this is just your luck, embarrassing yourself in front of this extremely sexy stranger. “let’s just . . . pretend that didn’t happen.” you’re certain that you were definitely not getting his number after this. “what can i get you, mr . . .?”

“kento.” nanami answers, leaning a tad bit closer and you have to crane your neck slightly to look at him, that grin still on his plump lips. “but you can call me ken.”

“oh?” you catch the cheeky switch in his tone, the teasing glint in those pretty pools of brown. he’s flirting with you and why not return the same energy? you’re interested in him, too. biting back a smile of your own, you hold his gaze, staring up at him through your wispy extensions. “ok, ken, what can i get you?”

“two of those cinnamon rolls, please.” nanami answers, pointing towards the case he’d been looking at prior.

you nod and grab a set of tongs, opening the glass to place the rolls into a small plastic bag, then into a paper bag on the counter. “just that, nothing else?”

pondering on the question, nanami’s debating the risk of what he’s about to say. it’s obvious that you’re attracted to him but this was a whole different ballgame, asking you to be his sugar baby? — really, the worst that could happen is you rejecting him and as much as he doesn’t want that, he’d just have to accept it. nanami inhales a deep breath once he gathers his thoughts. here goes nothing. 

“well, there is something that i have. it’s a proposition of sorts for you.”

you look up from the register, one of your brows raised. “and what would that be?”

“allow me to take you out a few times a week, whenever you have the time . . . and i’ll pay your tuition.” nanami pauses and shakes his head, combing some of his blonde locks back with his fingers. “no, i’ll pay all your bills. as long as i get to see you, i’ll give you anything that you want.”

you tilt your head to the left and raise your brows. “you want to be my sugar daddy?”

nanami nods, chuckling at the look of sheer disbelief on your face on your face. “i’m missing the old part so i’m not exactly sure if i qualify . . . but yes, i do.”

you scoff at that. “. . . and you just want to see me, take me on dates, no sex?” did he think you were that naive? if there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that nothing in this world is free —  everything has a price and in this case, your pussy would be the desired currency. you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “i don’t believe that. what’s the catch?”

nanami supposes you aren’t wrong for thinking this way. it does sound far-fetched, especially from a stranger you met not even an hour ago. he wasn’t a liar or a perv, and he’d just have to make you see how serious he is. “there is no catch. i think you’re beautiful and i want to get to know you better. i understand that this may seem too good to be true but i promise you, my intentions are pure.”

nanami isn’t surprised when you don’t budge, eyes slanted as you glare him down. (and you look so adorable while doing it.) he expected this reaction from you and little did you know, he’s already one step ahead. if his words don’t move you, then he’s sure his actions will get the point across.

fishing for his wallet in his pocket, he pulls it out, handing you a five dollar bill, “this is for the cinnamon rolls and this,” he takes out a set of bills, hundred dollar bills and you watch him, mouth ajar as he counts off each one before placing it in your free hand. is he serious? “this is for your tuition and a little extra to spend. we’ll handle the ‘loans that have loans’ on our first date, alright?”

you’re speechless, eyes shifting between nanami’s face and the money in your hand as you try your best to process what’s happening before you. from joking about needing a sugar-daddy to having one in front of you. and the man wants to spend time with you, no sex required! you surely couldn’t doubt him now, not when he gave you the money without you actually agreeing. maybe this was the blessing from god you’d been waiting for.

you clear your throat, nodding dazedly. “a-alright, yeah . . . we can talk more on our first date.”

nanami smiles once more, glancing at his watch prior to picking up the paper bag off the counter. “as much as i want to stay with you, i have to get back to the office.” reaching into his pants pocket, he slides a laminated card on the counter. “my personal number is on this card. when you get a chance, call or send me a text. i’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

with a playful wink, nanami leaves the cafe — your eyes trailing his lithe frame until he turns a street corner, completely out of sight. it’s like you were frozen in place, the money still in your hands. when you finally decide to take a look at the business card he left, your jaw quite literally drops to the floor: this man is the coo of jujutsu, one of the biggest marketing companies in the country.

                                 kento nanami

                            chief operating officer

               jujutsu marketing and e-commerce, llc.

                                 xxx-xxx-xxxx

kento.nanami@gmail.com

now, you were definitely certain that god did indeed hear and answer your prayers. in more ways than one.

tagging: @sttoru @screampied @thebimbopalace @tojancy

© shaguro, 2023 - do not plagiarise nor repost anything on any other platform.

[tofixtheshadows]

Id love to hear ur interpretation and analysis on falin! She’s one of my favorite characters and and I was wondering what ur thoughts on her are

Man, I struggle to think of anything I could say about Falin that others have not already said. But she's one of my favorite things about Dungeon Meshi too.

So much of the story revolves around Falin, and she's not even there. Tumblr loves to talk about haunting the narrative, but Falin might be one of the best examples of it ever put to page. She's dead. She's alive. She's dead. She's alive. She's alive but she's missing, she's alive but she isn't herself. She's dead but she might wake. She's dead but she's frozen in ice. She's alive but she's sleepwalking. They chase her ghost and they chase her body all through the story.

I think what Kui does with her is fascinating. Not just as character with a personality we can analyze, but as an object in a narrative- that's why I say she's one of my favorite things about the story, because I also mean it in a mechanical sense. As a writer, Kui's really good at misdirection- that is, setting you up to believe or expect something about a character or a plot, and then turning that on its head. It's most apparent with Kabru, but it works really well with Falin too.

Because the precious little sister is a very well known character archetype, right? So is the gentle healer. The heart of the party. The white mage girl. The damsel in distress. The martyr.

And this isn't a Laura Palmer situation, where we find out that beneath her wholesome surface there's something dark and troubled. No, Falin truly is a kind and gentle person. That isn't where the misdirection leads (and that, too, I think, is another misdirection- it's not "Plot twist, she isn't as nice as you thought!", which would almost be too easy).

The misdirection here is more about structure than about character (but also, yeah- a little about character).

What I mean is, with these archetypes firmly in mind, along with a whole other host of fantasy genre expectations, I think anyone who goes into Dungeon Meshi un-spoiled probably expects Falin's rescue to be an endgame event; at least on a subconscious level, where you're not really thinking about it but in the back of your head you're already stretching out the story to place Falin firmly in the distance. Fire breathing dragon at the bottom of the dungeon is perfect final boss material, right? Slay the dragon. Rescue the princess.

And Falin is the perfect prize in the traditional old school fantasy that the concept of the titular dungeon is a send-up to. Blonde (white), soft-spoken, sweet-natured, beloved by everyone. An angelic figure.

Maybe that's why Ryoko Kui gave her white wings.

It is sort of jarring when chapter 23 rolls around and it's already time to fight the red dragon. And it takes a few chapters, but they succeed. And then Falin's impossible resurrection succeeds. But by then you guess that this is not going to be the story you expected it to be.

I want to point out that Falin spends a lot of time getting, well, babied, post-resurrection. Marcille washes her in the bath, despite Falin stating that she's capable of washing herself. Marcille schools her about her mana use despite Falin demonstrating that she is not hurting for mana, and brushes aside Falin's explanations. Both Marcille and Laios refuse to actually tell her what happened. Laios scruffs up her hair like she's a little kid and scolds her for something she can't remember doing. Marcille explicitly calls her a little kid when Falin tries to talk about how much she's grown.

Of course I'm not saying that Laios was wrong to act like a big brother, or that Marcille shouldn't be worried about taking care of her shell-shocked friend in the bath. But the framing of it clearly shows a Falin who is struggling to be heard.

If you'd like to address the big gay elephant in the room while we're here, I want to state for the record that- whether you read her as gay or not -I think Marcille is completely oblivious during this. Because Falin is her little friend from school. Her best friend, yes, but also the young tallman student she, in her infinite elven wisdom, had to mentor and look after. Marcille has not yet accepted that Falin is an adult now, nor has she accepted that she, herself, is only barely past teenagerhood developmentally and is not nearly as mature as she believes. Of course she'd scrub Falin in the bath and fuss over her.

Falin, meanwhile, seems more than aware of her own adult body and the inappropriate way Marcille is treating it.

The mana-sharing scene is, I think, Falin trying to get a little of her own back. How do you like it, Marcille?

And she tries again in bed.

Maybe she's wondering if their relationship will change now that they're grown ups. If Marcille prefers her as a little girl, or at least as a woman who lets herself be guided like one; if Marcille will react badly if Falin keeps trying to assert herself. She also might be subtly trying to signal to Marcille that bed sharing, like bathing, carries a different weight to it when you do it as adults rather than as children.

With all this in mind, the decision to turn Falin from the precious prize they rescued into to the vicious dragon they have to slay, hits a lot harder.

Falin with a powerful, monstrous, destructive body. Falin, who couldn't even stand to cause people pain from using healing spells, slaughtering half a dozen people in brutal ways. And that's not her, she's being mind-controlled, but as an object in the story she has completely flipped. From damsel to threat.

And I love that she carries a little bit of that with her when she's resurrected again.

Because she's no longer the girl who's going to let herself be stifled by her brother's and her best friend's co-dependency, no matter how much she loves them. She's different now: stronger, eyes open, forging her own path instead of following in their wake. Falin is still going to come back to them again, but this time it won't be because they chased her. It'll be because they let her go.

[rafecameroninterlude]

Omg I’m in need of a fic inspired in that gift of them doing in public and not caring about anyone around!!! Maybe like in a party in front of their friends idkkk

warnings: public sex, fingering, slight praise

a/n: based off of this post

“rafe, they’re gonna see!” you laughed, grabbing hold of his wrist as he hiked your dress up just enough to slip his hand inside your panties. “so? since when have you cared?” he kissed you, groaning to himself when his fingers glided easily through your folds. your eyes fluttered shut as he rubbed light, teasing circles around your clit, both of you laughing when you accidentally let out a moan.

even though you two were in a secluded corner, and the music was too loud for anyone to hear what you and your boyfriend were doing, you couldn’t stop yourself from covering your mouth to suppress the sounds coming out of it. “you look so fucking pretty, baby. ‘wanted to do this since i saw you walk down the stairs in this.” he whispered, giving your cunt a slap. you were wearing rafe’s favorite mini dress, pink and lacy with ribbons as the straps.

rafe moved your hand away from your face, his fingers hooking under your chin to pull you in a searing kiss. “feels s’good.” you whimpered against his lips, your hips unintentionally grinding against his hand. “yo, rafe!” he smiled when he saw your cheeks flush as topper’s voice neared the two of you. “m’busy!” he shouted back, his fingertips teasing your entrance. “s-shit, my bad..” you giggled as topper scrambled away, visibly at a loss for words.

“you gonna take my fingers like the perfect little slut you are?” you nodded frantically, wanting so bad to feel his digits fill you up already. “yes, please give it to me.” rafe made you meet his gaze as he inserted his fingers inside your aching cunt. “ah, fuck,” he drawled out. rafe will never get used to the feeling of your pussy wrapping around him, whether it was his fingers or his cock. “you always feel like heaven.” he trailed kisses on the underside of your jaw, your hand coming up to rest on the back of his neck.

your thighs clamped around his wrist when he curled the pads of his fingertips against that soft spot inside of you. “gonna make you cum in front of all these people, is that what you want?” he spoke through gritted teeth, the palm of his hand now meeting your clit. “yes.. ‘wanna cum for you,” you took your bottom lip between your teeth as he picked up his pace, your legs trembling from the penetration. soon, you had to bury your face in rafe’s chest to muffle your moans as you came around his digits.

“oh, my god,” you shook, balling his shirt in your fist. rafe didn’t overstimulate you the way he wanted to, deciding he’d do that at home instead. “shh, i got you baby.” he pecked the crown of your head, his hand moving out from under your dress. you sighed, stealing a glance at kelce and topper who were side eyeing you and rafe as they took sips from their solo cups. “they saw us.” you laughed softly, hiding your face from the view of the party.

“eh,” he rubbed soothing cirlces on your back, “let’s get home, i’m hard as a fucking rock right now.”

[strawberrynull]

──⯎ ˙💄 ̟ strawberry lip balm

엔하이픈 | Enhypen | Nishimura Riki

──Pairing: niki x afab!reader

──Genre: fluff

──Synopsis: After sleeping over Niki's house with some friends the night before, you accidentally left your favorite chapstick behind

──Warnings: cursing, kissing

──A/N: yall this literally took me only one hour

masterlist

You.

You were the only thing on Nishimura Riki's mind ever since he had found your strawberry lip balm sitting on his bathroom sink.

Last night, you and Jake slept over at Niki's place. The three of you had so much fun playing Mario Kart all night and ordering your favorite foods. Niki had watched you put on that strawberry lip balm at least 20 times last night. You were typically the type to leave things at people's house accidentally but he didn't think you would end up forgetting something so important to you.

Niki layed on his bed, staring at the small lip balm. It was pink and decorated with strawberries and pink lettering. He held it in between his fingers, rolling it to read the label for the hundredth time. He contemplated whether he wanted to show up at your door to give you your lip balm now or wait until you noticed it was gone.

The thought of you putting the lip balm on your plump lips flooded his mind once again. The scene played on repeat until it almost annoyed him. He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing in frustration. Sure, he kinda liked you and kinda really wanted to kiss you but you were his friend. And his best friend was best friends with you too. Having the image of your blush tinted lips on his mind all day wasn't making his guilt any better.

He was even more guilty knowing that all he wanted right now was to taste your lips. Now he had your lip balm in his hand. It was an opportunity but would he feel super bad about it after? Absolutely.

Niki opened the cap of the lip balm. It had a red tint like a real strawberry and was a bit shimmery as well. The image of your lips flashed in his mind again. Maybe he would just quickly see how the lip balm smelled... He held the small pink lip balm under his nose. As you would expect, it smelled like artificial strawberries and had a hint of honey too.

The phone buzzed making him flinch, quickly closing the lip balm and tossing it to the side. Grabbing the phone, he read a text from you.

Y/n-ie♡Hey I think I left my lip balm at your house Can I come pick it up?

He immediately began typing back, telling you he had found it and he was at home.

Y/n-ie♡great I'll be over in 5

He sat up, feeling his face begin to heat. You had texted him right as he was smelling your lip balm. He felt like a total creep. Past that feeling, the desire to taste your lips still lingered, making him feel even worse.

Niki layed back down and turned to his side, eyeing the lip balm beside him. The idea of using your lip balm on his own lips popped into his mind. He quickly shook off the idea though. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to get you off his mind.

Not for long though.

He grabbed the lip balm, quickly pulling the cap off. He observed the way the flecks of glitter shimmered as he turned the lip balm. Hesitantly, he brought it up to lips. He swallowed before swiping the pink lip balm across his bottom lip. He frantically put the cap back on and threw it to the side once again. He felt horrible for using your things without your permission.

Niki licked his lips, tasting a mixture of strawberries and honey. Though he still wanted to know how it tasted on your lips.

Then there was a knock at the door. Fuck. 5 minutes had gone by too quickly. He shot up from his bed, grabbed the lip balm, and dashed toward the door. As soon as the door opened, his eyes darted to your lips. Still plump and pink even without your signature lip balm.

Great, way to go Niki.

"Hey Ki. I'm soooo glad you have my lip balm. I was looking for it all morning. I thought I was going crazy." You rambled as he tried his best to avoid looking down at your pretty lips.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Here." He said quickly, reaching out to hand you your lip balm, still avoiding eye contact. He still felt ashamed for what he had done a few seconds earlier.

You took the lip balm from his hand. Just as he was about to turn away you opened your mouth to speak again. "Riki," Shit, his full name. You noticed already. He snapped his gaze toward you. "Did you use my lip balm?"

"No."

"Yes you did. You have glitter on your lips." Fuck. You had caught him. He stood there in silence with a look of shock like a deer in headlights. You just laughed though. He had totally overstepped a boundary and you just laughed at it. "Ki, why'd you use mine? Don't you have like 30 of your own?"

"Well, I-" He stuttered. He didn't know what to tell you. Oh yeah I used your lip balm like a total freak because I wanted to know what your lips taste like. No fucking way he would tell you that.

You raised an eyebrow at him. In addition, you crossed your arms. He could never lie to you when you did that.

"I'm sorry." he started by apologizing. "I wanted to k- to kiss you but you know... friends don't do that. So uh.. I used the lip balm and I'm really sorry. It was weird, sorry." He stuttered, bowing his head to repeatedly apologize. Again, you just laughed. His guilty expression was replaced with a look of confusion.

"You could have just told me, Ki. Here," you pulled open your lip balm and spread it across your lips. "I gotchu."

Before Niki could process what was happening, you had put a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in to kiss him. Your lips were so much softer than he could have ever imagined. The taste of strawberries and honey returned to his taste buds but a hundred times better this time. Just one kiss had him feeling dizzy. Subconsciously, he grabbed hold of your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"As good as you imagined?" You whispered against his lips. You felt his arms wrap around you fully, hugging you tight against his body.

"Better." He said before pressing his lips onto yours again.

© strawberrynull, 2024. Do not copy my work. Please DM for permission before translating or reuploading. Thank You

[pathologicalreid]

I'm a terrible writer but always get good ideas lmao

Idk if you've ever seen friends or not but there is this one scene where Rachel and Ross go to a sonogram appt and she has a whole breakdown cause all she saw on the sonogram was a blob and not a baby. (I'm pretty sure it was like their first appt or something idk)

I'm a sucker for dad!spence and you're one of my favorite writers for him.

Feel free to totally ignore this if this is trash lol💓

amorphous | S.R.

your first appointment goes exactly how you expected it to, but not at all how you wanted it to

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff w/ comfort content warnings: pregnancy, ultrasounds, doctors, pregnancy symptoms, emetophobia warning word count: 795 a/n: i have never seen friends but i hope that this fic does your request justice. ilysm.

You put on a brave face as you accepted your appointment card from the secretary, thanking her for her time before sliding the card into your pocket, trusting that Spencer would remember the date and time of your next appointment.

Everyone had tried to prepare you for this appointment. At eight weeks, all you were going to do was confirm that you were actually pregnant and make sure that you were measuring accurately. The internet told you that was going to happen. Spencer told you that was going to happen. Your OB told you that was going to happen.

None of that prevented the sheer disappointment you felt while leaving the obstetrician’s office. You lagged behind Spencer, taking the steps to the parking lot considerably slower than he was.

It didn’t take him long to notice, keenly aware of your every move as if he had developed a paternal superpower, your husband waited for you at the bottom of the steps. “What’s wrong?”

You opened your mouth to respond, gesturing over to the building before shrugging, “I thought it would help,” you confessed, sticking out your bottom lip in disappointment.

Spencer’s gaze softened as he ushered you off to the side and out of other people’s way. He knew you had been struggling with the lack of visibility that early pregnancy had. You hadn’t told friends and family yet, the only people who knew – aside from medical professionals – were the two of you.

“I just wanted to see it,” you mumbled, looking sheepishly to the ground. “I thought it would make it feel real.”

He nodded in understanding, using the pads of his thumbs to deftly wipe away any stray tears on your cheeks, “You saw the screen though, right?”

You thought you had been looking at the screen, but maybe you had been so distracted by the transducer that your brain hadn’t processed what you had seen. The baby hadn’t been in a good enough position for you to hear the heartbeat.

“Here,” Spencer said, setting his hands on your upper arms before guiding you over to an empty bench. Once you were sat, he dug through your purse and produced the sonogram images that you had been given.

Suspiciously, you eyed the black and white pictures that Spencer had gently set in your lap, “It just… it’s just a little white blob.”

Maintaining your attention, Spencer pointed at the picture, “Do you see this part here? That’s the head,” he dragged his finger over slightly, “There’s the body,” he showed you. Guiding you through the sonogram, showing you every part in hope that it would console you.

“I just…” you faltered, looking at the photos as you tried to see it as a baby instead of a blob, “I don’t have a bump, we couldn’t hear the heartbeat, I guess… I guess I wanted some sign that they’re okay in there.”

Crouched down in front of you, Spencer cocked his head to the side, “Honey, what’s the first thing you did this morning?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “I showered?”

Spencer shook his head, “Even before that, the very first thing you did this morning,” he encouraged you.

Your face warmed as your eyes flittered up to his, “I threw up.”

“And do you know what made you so sick?” He asked pointedly. Smiling timidly, you looked down at the photos with a newfound fondness, “The baby.”

He nodded, “Every morning that you wake up nauseous and every time you’re tired in the middle of the day are all little signs that they’re doing just fine.”

You sniffled slightly, wiping tears from your face with the sleeve of your sweater, “I’m sorry,” you murmured, “You probably think I’m being so dramatic.”

“I think you’re scared, and it’s okay to feel that way,” he reassured you. “We’re gonna see them again, okay? Next time we go they’ll be more than three times bigger. Our little blob will have tiny arms and legs.”

You frowned down at the pictures, still frustrated that this was all you had, “Twelve weeks feel so far away.” You had scheduled your nuchal scan for the end of next month, which felt like eons into the future.

Spencer smiled at up at you, “It’ll be here before you know it,” he told you softly, “No more tears, okay? I still have an hour before I have to go to work, did you want to get something to eat?”

Nodding softly, you put the photos back in your purse before standing up, “Yeah, maybe something with raspberries? That’s how big my phone says the baby is – the size of a raspberry.”

Tilting his head back slightly, Spencer chuckled at your proposition, “Absolutely, we’ll find the best raspberry dish in the district.”

[steddiealltheway]

(A special post for my dear friend Cass @henderdads who is celebrating 10k followers 🫶💛 can’t wait to celebrate more milestones with you 🥳)

Eddie watches the follower count on the Corroded Coffin TikTok rise every time he refreshes their page as the rest of the band looks over his shoulder.

“I can’t believe your bat song is going to bring us to ten thousand followers. Considering it’s about-”

“Shut up,” Eddie cuts him off, refreshing the page again.

“Seriously though,” Grant says, pointing at the follower count, “We’re going to hit ten thousand pretty soon.”

“Which is a big milestone for us,” Jeff adds before circling in front of where everyone in staring at Eddie phone. “Shouldn’t we celebrate or something?”

All the boys pause for a moment, and Eddie can feel them all staring at him, waiting for some type of creative revelation as if he can just come up with something on the spot like... “I have an idea.”

Gareth and Grant high five as Eddie jumps up and points at Jeff. “Go get some lame confetti party poppers and a cheesy celebration cake.” He turns to Gareth and Grant and points at them. “You guys need to find out how to put our follower count on a laptop or something while I set up my room so we can do a livestream on Tiktok in there.”

“We’ve never done a livestream.”

“Exactly!” Eddie says clapping his hands excitedly, “That’s what will grab people’s attention and boost our follower count. We’ll tell them that follower ten thousand will get a special private video from us or something. I don’t know. Whatever they want!”

“What if they ask us to strip?” Grant asks.

Jeff sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “No one is going to ask you to strip, dude.”

“You never know!”

Eddie just laughs as he rushes off to his room.

“Wait!” Jeff yells after him.

Eddie pauses and turns around.

“What money am I using to by this stuff?”

Eddie sighs and digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out two twenties and handing them over. “If this doesn’t cover it, you’ve done something wrong.”

Jeff smiles widely before running out the door yelling, “I’m gonna spend all of it!”

Eddie doesn’t even care about his money going down the drain, he’s too excited about reaching ten thousand and being able to call Wayne about it. For now, it’s time to seriously do some work to his room in order to make it somewhat presentable…

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie adjusts the camera stand and the ring light he bought for their videos that he gets constantly made fun of for buying. But the guys can’t deny how much better their videos look, so he doesn’t want to hear it.

“Jeff, give me your phone.”

Jeff hands his phone over but whines, “Why my phone?”

“Because you have the best camera,” Eddie explains, setting it up and going to their tiktok page. The numbers are quickly climbing through the nine thousands, and at this rate, they’ll definitely hit 10k during the livestream.

Once everything is prepared, Eddie asks, “Ready?”

Everyone nods and Eddie starts the livestream. He waves at the camera and watches the view count grow quickly. “Oh wow. Hi everyone. We haven’t done this before, so sorry for anything weird that may happen or when Grant inevitably says something dumb.”

Eddie gets a smack on the back of the head as Grant says, “Hey!” Jeff and Gareth just look at each other knowingly and laugh.

Eddie half winces and smiles as he rubs the back of his head and reads the comments asking about the numbers on the computer. “Oh shit. Yeah! Oh wait, I don’t think I should’ve sworn. Oops. Uh, anyways!” He takes a deep breath and gestures to the computer screen. “So, this the whole reason for our livestream. We’re about to hit ten thousand followers-”

“Thanks to you guys!” Gareth interjects.

“Yes, thank you guys. Really. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you,” Eddie says sincerely, laying his hands over his heart. “And we thought that we’d do something special for our ten thousandth follower. Maybe send them a video of us doing a cover of their favorite song or something. We don’t know! Whoever it is, you get to choose.”

“But you can’t make us strip!” Grant yells.

Eddie runs a hand over his face before gesturing dramatically toward Grant. “And this is what I meant when I said Grant would inevitably say something dumb.”

Gareth and Jeff just laugh as Grant turns red. Eddie turns around and pats him on the shoulder. “You know we love you.”

“Yeah, because you would suck without me.”

Eddie turns around and looks at the camera. “That’s absolutely true.” He looks at the comments and notices people asking them questions about when they’re releasing another song and if they’re planning on touring anywhere soon.

Jeff leans over squinting and says, “Oh! Our next song is called Hellfire Rains!”

Gareth looks at him slowly and asks, “Dude, are we allowed to say that?”

Eddie puts his head in his hands. This is absolutely a disaster, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Eddie’s head pops back up. “We could do something even worse and give them a sample of it.”

He sees the comment section flood a bit with affirmations of YES PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.

Eddie turns to the guys and shrugs. “Are you guys good if I play a weird acoustic version of it?”

All the guys shrug and nod until Jeff stops to say. “Wait, what if we hit ten thousand during that?”

“Then, you guys stop me and we look at the follower,” Eddie replies.

Jeff nods and says, “Okay, but what if I told you we’re only nine followers away from ten thousand?”

“What?!” The rest of the boys yell and turn to the computer, noticing the numbers going up.

Eddie scrambles to grab his phone and go to their page, refreshing their notifications to grab the name of the ten thousandth person. He quickly looks at the camera and says, “Okay guys, I’ll give you that cover after we hit this milestone and freak out.” He refreshes the page and grabs Gareth’s shoulder. “Wait, do you have the party poppers?”

“Shit!” He yells running to the plastic Walmart bag and digging through it, handing them to everyone.

“It’s about to happen guys!” Jeff yells.

Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest as he refreshes the page over and over.

“Holy shit!” Grant yells first as Gareth and Jeff yell to celebrate. Eddie glances at the screen showing 10,000 and laughs as everyone pulls their confetti party poppers. He turns back and refreshes the page.

He freezes.

“Eddie, man, who is the lucky person?” Jeff asks excitedly.

Eddie looks at them with wide eyes.

“What?” Gareth asks.

Eddie looks back at the name and presses on the profile, noticing their mutual followers confirming that it’s a legit account. “Oh my god.”

The guys all rush around his phone and stare at the page.

Gareth shrieks with laughter. “Holy shit! Steve Harrington? The same infamous Steve who your bat song is about?”

“The same infamous Steve who you had a horrible crush on in high school but could never get the courage to talk to him?” Jeff adds with a laugh.

“I talked to him once,” Eddie grumbles out running his hands over his face. This cannot be happening.

Gareth laughs loudly and says, “Let me recall it.” He turns to Jeff and acts like he gets flustered as he says, “Uh. Steve. Steve Harrington. You’re. Hi. Yeah. You. Uh. So Dustin and you. That’s cool. I. Well. Good seeing you!” Gareth then turns to run away quickly.

Jeff laughs loudly as Grant says, “Uh, guys?”

Eddie shakes his head as Gareth and Jeff ignore Grant to laugh about it until Grant yells, “Guys!”

They all look at him and notice him staring off. Eddie realizes that he’s staring at Jeff’s phone…which is still streaming.

They all seem to realize it at once and freak out. “Turn it off! Turn it off! End it!” Eddie yells as Grant drops the phone and Jeff scrambles to end the livestream.

They all pause and slowly look at Eddie who breathes out, “What are the chances that Steve wasn’t on that livestream and that everyone will forget about this?”

The rest of the boys slowly turn to look at each other with grim looks on their face.

“Oh no,” Eddie says burying his face in his hands. This is not going to be good.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Sure enough, the next day, there’s a viral TikTok going around of the movement that someone had screen recorded, and Eddie’s phone is spammed with texts from Dustin, annoyed at Eddie for never telling him about his pathetic crush on his babysitter.

Eddie ignores it and his friends attempt to drown out his sorrow with cake and platitudes of, “Hey, we’re actually gaining a lot of followers from this.”

Eddie just groans and buries his face in his bed. This cannot be happening.

“We did promise that we’d give our ten thousandth follower something special,” Jeff says. “So we still need to follow through with that.”

Eddie sighs, “I’m not going to message him.”

“Then I’m going to message him from our account and pretend to be you,” Jeff says.

As Gareth and Jeff encourage him, Eddie slowly sits up and says, “No. No. I’ll do it.” He begrudgingly reaches over and grabs his phone.

“And while you’re at it, people are complaining about you not doing that short cover so…” Gareth trails off as Eddie shoots him a glare.

“Okay, well we’re going to go pick up some food and give you some space so you don’t kill us,” Jeff says while grabbing Grant and Gareth and dragging them away.

“Thank you!” Eddie yells after them.

“But you’re not getting food unless you’ve sent him a message!” Jeff yells before closing the front door.

Eddie sighs and takes a deep breath before he glances at this phone, ignoring all the text notifications from Dustin, but he becomes curious about the text from a number he doesn’t have saved. He clicks on it.

As your 10,000th follower, do I still get to request something?

This is Steve Harrington by the way

Eddie nearly throws his phone but swipes to Dustin’s texts instead typing out, YOU GAVE STEVE MY NUMBER????

He scrolls through the dozens of texts, noticing a sequence of important texts he missed.

can i give steve your number? he’s asking me for it

eddie i swear he’s not mad or anything

okay i can’t promise that but it didn’t sound like he was mad

eddieeeee

eddie stop ignoring me

if you don’t respond im going to send your number

okay

im sending it

if anything happens i expect to be the first to know!!! don’t make me find out from a tiktok ever again

Eddie takes a deep breath and reasons that at least now he knows the number is legitimate. He opens the texts from Steve and stares at them. There’s no way he can text him.

And for some reason, he immediately decides to call him with is arguably a thousand times worse, but before he can hang up, Steve already answers with a, “Hello?”

Eddie swallows and tries to remember how to speak. “Hi,” he croaks out before clearing his throat and trying again, “Shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve says, sounding amused.

Eddie sighs and lays back on his bed. “So, what are the chances that you weren’t on the live stream and you didn’t see that video?”

“Zero.”

Eddie groans. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t checked TikTok yet, but have people found you and flooded your notifications?”

“Uh…” Steve trails off, sounding hesitant to answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes. God, I’m so stupid. I just completely forgot the livestream was going or I never would’ve dragged you into this mess.”

Steve pauses and asks, “And what if I told you that I’m glad you forgot it was still on?”

Eddie sits up. “What?”

“What if…” Steve pauses and Eddie hears rustling on his end as if he’s anxiously twisting around. “What if I told you that I know what I want as your ten thousandth follower.”

“To punch me?”

Steve laughs, and Eddie tries as hard as he can not to latch onto the noise. “To ask you on a date.”

Eddie freezes in shock. Yeah, this isn’t happening.

“Eddie? Are you still there?”

“Yup, still here,” Eddie manages to breathe out. He pauses before asking, “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, “I kind of had a big crush on you in high school, too. And I may have redownloaded TikTok when I heard about your live stream.”

“No way,” Eddie calls him out.

“Yes way. You should ask my best friend Robin. She saw the live stream and timed the follow perfectly for me. Plus, she’s suffered through my crush on you and has always been mad at me for never doing anything about it.”

Eddie can’t believe it. “Steve, can you FaceTime me right now?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah.”

Eddie clicks on the FaceTime button and waits until Steve’s face appears on the screen, further confirming it’s him and further freaking him out. Gosh, he hasn’t seen him in a while and he’s almost forgotten how gorgeous he is.

“Hey,” Steve says with a smile.

Eddie wants to melt into a pile of goo. “Hi.” He pauses for a second, getting a bit lost in seeing Steve’s smiling face on his phone. Then he remembers, “Oh! Okay, tell me again. But look me in the eye so I know you’re not lying.”

Steve chuckles and asks, “Eddie Munson, my secret high school crush, will you go on a date with me and fulfill the promise you made to all your followers?”

Eddie smiles and says, “Yes.”

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few days later, Eddie posts an update on the Corroded Coffin TikTok with a video of him singing a sneak peak of their new song then glancing off camera to ask, “Does my ten thousandth follower like it?”

Off camera, there’s a voice that sounds exasperated as they say, “How many times are you going to call me that instead of your boyfriend?”

Eddie puts his guitar down and rushes off camera quickly with a smile, but then the voice asks, “Did you end the video?”

Eddie pauses before saying, “No.”

“This is going to be a lasting issue isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Eddie confesses.

Then, the mystery man appears in the shot, revealing Steve’s smiling face before he ends the video.

Once again, the video ends up going viral, and soon enough, Eddie is celebrating 50k with all the band members along with Steve (and Dustin who is very mad to find out about their relationship via the second TikTok). But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[abswife]

modern gf! ellie headcanons

i'm in love with this woman so this is what she'd be like as your girlfriend <3

nsfw at the bottom mdni

you'd meet her at a vintage thrift store

you'd be there with a couple of your friends and one of them would be like "omg check out the hottie over there"

and you look over and it's ellie looking gooood

then she'd like trip over the carpet or some shit, looking like a dumbass and your friends would immediately lose interest

but not you

you'd be like hot and awkward??

hell yeah

i am a loser ellie truther i won't be stopped

ESPECIALLY modern ellie

like ellie without all of her trauma would be a total goofball lets be fr

so anyway, you'd find a way to talk to her

and you end up securing those digits

you guys would go on a couple dates and start hanging out a lot

you kept waiting for her to ask you to be her girlfriend but it just wasn't happening

so, you took it upon yourself

once you guys are official, she can be much more suave

however, she's still a goober

she would work at a comic book store

and even though she has tons of comics readily available to her, she still owns a like a whole plastic tub of them

wouldn't even put them on a bookshelf, just keeps them in a plastic tub

she DEFINITELY is still a space nerd

maybe she's a student studying astronomy or something

her idea of a date is watching a movie at home and eating ramen noodles lmao

idk why but i feel like when she's at home she just refuses to wear a shirt

like she is just constantly walking around in her sports bra

she also ABSOLUTELY owns a pair of dinosaur boxers and they are her favorite

her favorite pet names for you are babe and pretty girl

and probably like "my little crunchwrap supreme"

she's the type of girlfriend that would do stupid shit to impress you

like she'd try to jump over a trashcan or something in public and totally eat shit

absolutely oblivious to how hot she is

like girls will stare at her in public and when you get huffy about it she's like "??? what are you talking about?"

nsfw

she is usually a top but will bottom if you ask nicely

despite her awkward and silly personality, in the bedroom she's actually very confident and sexy

though she still likes to mess around and have fun

a MUNCH

she could eat pussy all day it's her favorite activity

when she uses a strap she acts like it's her actual dick

she'd have you suck her off and she'd be moaning and groaning like she can feel it

when she bottoms she likes to be spanked oop-

however a little more hesitant to spank you cause she's like "but baaabe i don't want to hurt you :("

though it doesn't really take much convincing lol

she's got a high libido

bby likes to fuck at least every other day like she's a horny little monster

[rafesslxt]

Hey!

I love your writing so much, and was wondering if you could write some smut/fluff of Matteo x first time reader where he talks the reader through it. Apart from that you can get creative with it too

Thank you ❤️🙏

thank u very much, i‘m always happy to hear that! 🫶🏻i hope u like this one too <3

🍒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 | 𝐦.𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

nsfw content | mattheo riddle x fem reader

aesthetic: 🕯️🥀🍒💋🍂

「 ✦ You tell Mattheo you're ready for your first time with him and he makes it as perfect as possible and talks you through it. ✦ 」

warnings: fluff, sensual smut, virgin!reader, reader‘s first time, experienced Mattheo, kissing, making out, fingering, nipple play, Mattheo talking reader through it, oral (on fem), mattheo masturbating while eating reader out, p in v protected, dirty talk, reader takes protection, aftercare

note: this is the first time that I write more softish smut and also readers first time + English is not my first language

words: 2,9k

When you told Mattheo you're finally ready to sleep with him, he was confused, happy and then confused again. Why in hell would she want me? That's a question he had in mind since the first time you laid eyes on him. Then, he was so happy that you trusted him enough to let him be your first. After all the euphoria, he was confused again. He needed to do this right. So how should he approach the situation?

It was a rainy day in the middle of September. Still pretty warm outside throughout the day but the temperature fell fast as soon as the sun was gone. While you were gone with some friends, Mattheo had prepared his room for the night. He wanted it to be literally perfect.

He told Draco who he shared a dorm with to sleep at Pansy's, your roommate. Then he cleaned everything from top to bottom, so not even a crumb of dirt was left on the floor.

At first he wanted to organize new sheets but remembered your words one time, telling him that you loved the smell of him in his bed and on his clothes. So he let them be for more comfort.

Next thing were candles. A lot of candles. He bought so many that every surface was covered in them for the romantic light. He also got you your favorite flowers, and some rose petals for the floor when you would walk inside the room.

It was perfect, only one thing missing. You.

Mattheo sat on the edge of his bed, nervous like hell. He had everything planned out. How he would touch you, what he would say to you too, to calm your nerves. His knee bounced up and down, his gaze falling to the clock on the wall and outside the window. Maybe he would catch a glimpse of your pretty hair so he would know you're almost there.

His door opened and his head snapped into it's direction. Your whole face lit up when you saw all the candles and rose petals on the floor. "Hey princess." he greets you with a soft voice and walks over to you, pulling you against his body. "What's all this for?" you asked with a shy smile, knowing exactly what is was for and excitement bubbled up in your chest.

"I want it to be special for you and not just like a random night." "It's never a random night with you, Mattheo." He smirks at your comment and raises his eyebrows. "Hey, aren't I supposed to make all these cute and cheesy comments?"

You start giggling and kiss his cheek in a loving way. He smiles down at you, helping you take off your jacket, putting it over the chair in front of his desk with your flowers on it.

"Oh Mattheo, you didn‘t have to!" you melt away when you see your favorite flowers. You turn your head up to him when he suddenly stands behind you again, his arms around your waist.

"Everything for you." he whispers into your ear, giving it a soft kiss. You turn around in his grip and swing your arms around his neck, kissing him with every ounce of love you had. His hands start to roam all over your body, one stroking your back while the other slides up and down your sides before it finds it's way under your hoodie and shirt, touching your bare skin beneath it.

Your cheeks start to heat up, knowing what's going to happen. It feels exciting and scary at the same time, but you are so grateful that it is Mattheo.

"I love you, princess. You know that, right?" Mattheo whispers against your lips, lowering his head. "I know, that's why I want it to be with you. Because I love you too." He smiles brightly at your words, putting both hands on your cheeks now and pulling you closer, kissing you passionate.

He takes his time with you, no matter what. He slowly takes off your hoodie, kisses you slowly at first, carefully walks you to his bed with his lips still on yours and pushes you back onto his bed.

"If you change your mind or you don't like something, feel uncomfortable, anything.. you tell me, okay princess?" he breathes against your lips, climbing over you. Even tho you can't imagine that he could do anything you don't like, you nod your head, telling him you understood.

You trust him with your whole heart and know he would do anything for you and never put you in an uncomfortable position. His hands wander under your shirt, feeling the warm skin under it and the goosebumps that form on it. "Love your skin, always so soft." he smiles at you, lifting up your shirt to cover your stomach in soft but hot kisses.

You bite your lip, your skin already burning with desire when you feel his soft lips leaving wet kisses all over your body. His hands push your shirt further up until it hangs around your chest and neck. "So beautiful." he whispers against your flushed skin, kissing further up to your breasts. His fingers open your bra in a quick and sly way so you don't even notice until the air around you hits your nipples.

"How do you feel?" he whispers, looking up at you. Your eyes are closed and your head relaxed on his soft pillow. "Good.. really good." you breath out, enjoying the new feeling of him so near.

He kisses his way up to your left boob, kissing around your nipple but not touching it while his hand massaged your right one. You buck your hips up against his body which makes him smile even more. "Hmm what's wrong princess?" "Can you please touch me?" you whine, eyes still closed.

"But I already am touching you, baby." "Mattheooo.." you whine again and drag his name out. He chuckles and shakes his head. "Alright but only because it's your first time." He comes up next to your ear and kisses it before whispering again, " Next time I'm gonna make you beg so much for my touch." You gasp and open your eyes to look at him, seeing his mischievous grin on his lips.

You gulp, thinking about how you never thought about what version of Mattheo you would get while having sex with him.

"Don't worry baby, it's all about you this time." he kisses your ear again, going down again to take your left nipple into his mouth. A soft whimper leaves your lips, going straight to Mattheo's ears and already hard cock. He starts to softly kiss it and kitten lick it with his tongue for a while before he sucked on it and scrapes his teeth against them.

Meanwhile he plays with your other one with his fingers. Your nipple squeezed between his thumb and middle finger, his index finger rubs over it in the same rhythm like his tongue.

He already has you wrapped around his fingers with basically no effort. You clench your thighs together, moaning into the air when your nipples start to get more and more sensitive to his touch. From time to time he would switch and suck on your right one, playing with your left between his fingers.

Your hands are already in his soft brown curls, tugging on them when it felt almost too good.

You feel his hand letting go of your nipple and gliding over your body, down towards your pussy. He opens your jeans with one hand, puling them down slowly, tugging on them slightly until you lift your hips to help him, all while he still nibbled on your other nipple.

When he has your jeans pulled down completely, he let his fingers ghost over your underwear, feeling they're already wet. He bites your nipple softly at the feeling, remembering himself to calm down before he loses his mind.

He pulls your underwear to the side, two fingers cautiously dipping between your wet folds. He groans against your skin and looked down to his fingers. "Fuck baby you're soaked. Does my mouth feel that good?" Your cheeks blush at his words, trying to hide them behind your hands which made him let out a soft deep laugh.

"Don't hide baby, it's fucking hot." he looks down again and brushes his fingers over your throbbing clit, making you yelp in a needy tone. "I'm gonna eat you out and prepare you a little, is that alright sweetheart?" he asks in a soft voice. You nod eagerly, making him smirk again.

He let go of you for a short moment to stand up and pull you towards the end of his bed. He spreads your legs and goes down on his knees in front of the bed. Your breathing gets heavier and your brain more nervous than ever. Out of a reflex and shyness your try to push your legs back together but he grips your thighs and pulls them back.

"You've got the prettiest pussy ever baby, I swear. Don't hide from me." You gulp and nod, letting him. He puts your legs over his shoulders, supporting your thighs with his hands, pushing them up slightly, his face now right in front of you.

He gently laps at your clit, looking up to search for a reaction from you. A shaky breath leaves your lips before you buck up your hips. He starts going a little faster, sucking at your folds while his thumb circles your clit. Your hands find his hair again, pulling him closer every time his tongue got faster.

He groans into your pussy and grinds his throbbing cock against the bed. You hear a growl and a deep breath coming from his throat and shoot your head up, looking at him worried. "What's wrong?" "Nothing babygirl, I just really have to hold back to not fuck you senseless with my tongue." He moves his finger faster, letting you feel a deep coiling in your abdomen. "You taste so fucking sweet, shit."

He let's go of one of your thighs and unbuckles his belt, pulling down his zipper and pushing down his pants. He lets out a deep breath again when he finally feels free and without his tight jeans around his hips. He let's his hand wander over his boxer shorts and palms himself through it, grunting into you while his tongue starts fucking your tight hole.

"Oh, Mattheo.. it feels so good." you moan with your eyes closed, completely obvious to where his hand did go. The feeling of his tongue inside you is strange at first but still feels good in combination with his thumb massaging your clit.

He groans against you again when his hand dips into his boxer shorts and pumps his cock up and down, pre-cum already forming on the tip.

He lets go of your clit and replaces his thumb with his mouth who sucks on your little bud now, making you arch your back and moan his name. Gently he enters your hole with one finger, testing the waters on how tight you are. He slowly pumps his finger in and out, adding a second after a few minutes.

"How does it feel?" he asks you, wanting to know if it hurt or felt uncomfortable. "It - It's new but.. it's good." you struggle, your breathing heavier than before.

Mattheo really did his best but at some point he couldn't handle it anymore and let go of his cock and backed away from your pussy.

"I'm sorry baby but I have to feel you." he got back up on the bed and pushes you more up so there is enough room for the both of you. He pulls his shirt over his head and kisses your neck. You look down at him, just now realizing he was naked too, your cheeks blushing when you see how big he was.

"Don't worry 'bout it, it will fit." he grins and reaches out towards his drawer but you stop him. "We don't need it, I'm taking potion since a few months." He raises his eyebrows at you, his cock twitching at the thought of feeling you raw. "Are you sure baby?" " A hundred percent."

He gulps and kisses you passionate, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. He grabs his shaft and runs his tip through your folds, teasing your clit a little bit. "I want you Mattheo.. please.." your begging makes it just sweeter for him. "You're really testing me baby." he breaths out and nods. Slowly and carefully he starts to push his fat tip against your entrance, pushing and pushing until his tip was in.

You both let out a moan at the same time. "You're already so big." "You're already so fucking tight around me." He watches your face for any sort of pain or discomfort but sees nothing, so he pushes forward again until you knit your brows together in pain. He immediately stopped and kissed you. "It's okay, don't stop." you whisper against his lips. "Are you sure? I don't wanna hurt you." he sighs when his hand strokes your cheek lovingly.

"It's gonna hurt anyway, just go slowly but don't stop." you whisper back, kissing his lips. He takes a deep breath before pushing his hips further towards you, but slowly like you asked him to. "You're doing o good baby, you're doing great." he kisses your forehead, not stopping tho. He feels your hands and nails gripping into his back when he is in to the half of his length.

"I'm already half in princess. You feel so good, shit." Even tho it hurts, it feels good too. Not in a stimulating way but it feels good to have him so close to you and feel his skin against yours.

A chuckle leaves your lips when he cursed, feeling a bit proud that you make him feel like that. "We're not even fucking right and your pussy already drives me crazy." he purrs into your ear, making you smile.

He pushes in again, this time a bit faster but still slow. A moan leaves your lips, feeling so full of him. "Tell me when I can move, baby." he groans, trying his best to stay still between your legs but your tight cunt squeezes him so good it is almost impossible not to.

"Move, move please." He bites his lip at your words and slowly starts to move in and out. He watches your face going from pain to your eyes rolling back and your mouth opening when a broken moan leaves your lips.

Mattheo starts moving a bit faster, gripping your hips with both his hands. "F-faster. Hmm Mattheo faster, please." "Shit.." his hips snap forward, bottoming you out completely. "God, your pussy is gripping me so tight baby, you're practically milking me at this point."

He starts to fuck you into his mattress, going harder and faster with time. "You're such a little slut for me, hm? Feeling my cock deep inside you, right baby? Just like that?" he says, hitting your g spots deliciously. Your eyes widen to the new feeling. "Oh my god, again, please do that again.

Sweat starts forming on his forehead, his smile turning smug when you start begging him again. He hits the same spot over and over again. Your walls clench around him, your back arched and a broken sob comes out of your throat. "Fuck yes!" you whine, digging your nails deeper into his skin, leaving marks all over him.

"Hm yes baby, mark me the fuck up so everyone knows I'm fucking yours." he grumbles at the feeling.

"I'm so close Mattheo, please let me come, please." " Fuck where did you lean to beg like that baby?" he groans back and moves his hand down to your sensitive nub, rubbing circles on it with his thumb.

"Cum for me baby, let go for me. Cum on my cock." His breathing gets heavy too and your clenching sends him spiraling. With a few last thrusts he sends you over the edge, feeling your walls massage his cock even harder.

"Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum. Where –" "Cum inside me." His eyes shoot open and look at your face. You're laying there, ginning up at him knowing it would drive him nuts. "Fuckk.. " a final thrust is enough for him to pump his cum into you. You bite your bottom lip at the feeling and kiss him deeply, your tongue licking over his lips.

"Kiss me like that again and I'm gonna fuck you stupid, princess." he groans against your lips, half joking half telling the truth. "Let me rest, Riddle." you giggle at his words.

He slowly pulls out of you and stands up. He gets a few tissues and gets between your legs, cleaning you up and leaving a few gentle kisses here and there.

He throws them away and pulls the blanket over the both of you, pulling you into his arms. "Thank you for trusting me to be your first." he whispers into your ear, kissing it softly. "It was perfect Mattheo, I wouldn't want anybody else as my first. I love you." he smiles down at you, cupping your face before kissing you. "I love you too, sweetheart."

i hope you liked it cause like I said it was the first time for me writing about vigrin reader and her first time with someone.

I tried to think about my first time so please don‘t forget its different for everybody and i also can‘t write about sex and blood in combination so sorry if its unrealistic because of that for some of you but tbh when i had my first time there was almost no pain and also just a few drops of blood. So please think about that fact too <3

Taglist:

@justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @cardi-bre91 @brodiedoesthings @gxdsfavgal @synicaljah @yourenogoodforme @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @auxcordlawd @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @beautywine @sagetakami @simp-for-fantasy @whyamireadingthis @i-like-pandas5 @jordynhartley2001 @your-local-simp26 @sarisabully @romantasyreader28 @whiteboylover222 @giasus- @batsching @themissingweasley26 @lucygoosylu

@siriusblackslefttoenail 🩷🩷

xoxo sarah <3

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: Your FS' Secret Kinks

❦ “She lowered her lashes until they almost cuddled her cheeks and slowly raised them again, like a theatre curtain. I was to get to know that trick. That was supposed to make me roll over on my back with all four paws in the air." - Raymon Chandler, The Big Sleep

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✦ Pile One ✦

Poor lil pooh pooh. This person struggles to “fill their cups up” so they get off on denying themselves pleasure. They secretly like the feeling of hitting whatever rock bottom looks like to them. Honestly, they want to be saved. They are wallowing at the bottom of a well, waiting for their savior to swoop in and throw them a rope. 

In a more literal sense, they want a person to be their reason to live. Their reason to feel daylight on their skin again. Everyone and everything around them is unsatisfying and “fake”. They want something real to coax them out of their hell and entice them with all the thrilling things life has to offer. 

However, they also like this dark and brooding side of themselves. They have a bit of a corruption kink.

They fantasize about a virginal angel coming down to save them, but they end up convincing the angel to sink down to their level. 

They like exciting, spontaneous people who are willing to jump up and run out the door to do something fun at any moment, but think innocent fun. Like going to the movies to theater hop, and getting away without paying. Or, running around the Target parking lot in shopping carts and trying not to bang into cars. Maybe even steal a few street signs. 

Innocent childhood fun that you’d see in early 90s movies. But add a sadistic twist to it that only they are aware of. 

You would be the innocent virgin (doesn’t have to be true, it's their fantasy) who is unknowingly leading this beast (also not true, they are just extremely self-deprecating) to your pretty little happy places which they plan to desecrate.

They want to fuck you in your family home and make a mess of your childhood bed, making you scream so loud that you’re family starts to look at you differently. They want to take you to your favorite movie spots where you usually chill and hangout with your friends and turn it into a place where all you can think about is them covering your mouth in the back of the theater while you’re squirming in their lap, trying to escape out of their grip as they edge you to the new Marvel release. 

They have a kink for turning all of your innocent, fun moments into their very own filthy fantasies.

Ps. Fisting came out of the blue so lube up!

Come To Me, My Senseless Angel

✦ Pile Two ✦

I don’t believe this is a future spouse, to be honest. This might be a situationship you need to move past. They seem emotionally immature, or at least this is a side of them that exclusively comes out when they’re aroused. 

They can be quite abrasive and feel like they are constantly under attack so they’re incredibly defensive. They have a history of lashing out at their loved ones when they feel overwhelmed and get so blinded by their emotions that they disregard their affection for their partners and say really unforgettable, harmful words which permanently alters the connection for the worse. 

They carry guilt from these actions and are in a constant state of regret. In this state, their sense of pleasure is a little twisted. They get turned on by causing a genuine issue in the relationship. They like the idea of pushing you to your limit where you’re this 🤏  close to your breaking point and at your absolute lowest. It’s when you reach your rock bottom and realize the need to move away from this person and you scream out, “I DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS.”

They like to grovel. You know that cycle where somebody fucks up and then they’re in the dog house buying flowers and being extra fluffy just to get in the victim’s good graces so they can do the same thing over again. So far, pile one and two’s respective partners like to feel like shit. They secretly like the moment where they completely fuck up a relationship and have to beg on their hands and knees to get their person back orrrrrr they get off on emotionally tearing someone down to the point where they get on their knees to bed for this person’s attention. 

Either way, there's a lot of fucked psychological issues underneath this fantasy that I’m not unpacking here because it differs from person to person. 

In its best light, this person glorifies struggle love. At its worst, this person is purposefully emotionally abusive with the intent to tear their partner down for their own sexual gratification. 

They’re conscious enough to know their actions are toxic but don’t have the emotional maturity to work past their actions. They’re at the phase where they’re just aware and are like “I know I’m shitty but that’s just who I am. If they stick with me and the sex is good, it’s meant to be.”

I’m honestly getting twitter relationship hypotheticals with this one. Iykyk.

They’re also an edgelord. Less in an internet cockroach way and more in a witty- can be funny if done well- way, but they get pleasure from shocking people nonetheless. This energy can be directed toward you to piss you off and annoy you with the intent of getting in your pants later. 

I’ve been guided to switch the conversation briefly: If this resonates and is someone you are dealing with. It is time to move on. This person gets gratification from hurting you and will not get past that high of tearing down a relationship and then having a messy recovery. They have their own issues to work through and cannot see how they are hurting you. There is no future with this person, they came into your life to teach you a lesson about your self-value. That cycle has run its course and it's time to move on.  

To be honest, I’m not a fan of this person and don’t even want to list the explicit kinks that came out but I will just in case this message is for you but you’re not sure.

Random messages: Hot tub/pool sex, hair pulling, break down crying, interracial, milk, broken condom, “i fucking hate you”, “whore”, mirror, drunk sex, complaining, smack a bitch, twitter

P.S. You’re too sexy for the bullshit! There is bigger and greater out there, you just need to believe that for yourself!

This person will not get a mood board out of me.

✦ Pile Three ✦

Okay, so this person has some deep religious guilt. This is a male presenting person. I am being clear with their sex because it plays a role in this reading. They have some majorly repressed feminine energy. They may even be attracted to the same sex. 

This is a fs reading, so they are likely bi, pansexual, or trans. Either way, their family is close-minded and is not supportive of them. They were forced to leave home so they could finally live their truth. They have lived their entire life fitting somebody else’s narrative. They were the hypermasculine bro type to “cover up” their femininity. 

So, they have a kink for hyperfeminity. It’s almost to the point where they obsess over the caricature of girlhood. I see lots of pink, high heels, full-glam, all-day mall shopping, pinup curls, flashy jewelry, sleepovers, day spas, that scene in Scott Pilgrim where that girl is like “SHE’S PROBABLY LIKE 25!”, and everything else that gets associated with “girlhood” nowadays. 

They fantasize about you in your receptive energy, being waited on and cared for hand and foot. They like to observe the way you move. Everything about you and your feminine aura is incredibly alluring to them. The way with each breath your breasts fall, the way your hips swat with each step, the cute way you match your accessories with your outfits. They notice everything about you. 

You know those paintings of wealthy women lying on their sides and being fed grapes? That. They’re not in the serving role, they're the painter. Their kink is capturing you in those everyday moments where the world seems to be waiting on you like you’re the collective’s queen.

They see femininity in a higher light than the general population. They see women as automatically deserving of this type of care, they also want this care. 

They have a secret hard-on for pregnant women and women with swollen breasts. They have a lactation kink. They fantasize about cumming in you over and over again. They see you as a Goddess, so they want to see you masturbate at church on an altar, like you're waiting to be worshipped. 

A lot of their fantasies, they’re not even included in. It’s just you looking God-like and being worshipped by the world around you. This person may hate when you wear clothes. They act like the fabric is committing a sin by covering your body. They just want to capture your essence. Like an admirer and a student.

P.S. Dick game goes CRAZY. They watch a lot of women-focused porn to study what gets a woman off. Like Maddie in Euphoria, here is there to study.

Pretty In Pink

✦ Pile Four ✦

WE GOT A PLEASURE DOM IN THE BUILDING Y’ALL STAY CALM. As my mama would say, they love your dirty drawls!

You could do no wrong in this person’s eyes. They’re the golden retriever type. Head empty, leading with heart and IN LOVE>>>>>

You are the pot of gold and the end of the rainbow they’re chasing. They appreciate a good fling but they’ve never felt this before. The emotions you stir in them are unprecedented, this is puppy, sandbox love that most people lose touch with after life jades them.

This is raw love at its most unprocessed. I taste honey. 

They have a kink for the power you have over them. It’s like you have a carrot on a stick and they’re the pig being led to a love den they can’t escape. And they’ll happily be the squealing pig in every lifetime they get with you. This is a soul yearning. 

You will know this person because they will proactively pursue you and they will have no doubts in their mind about it. They are really attracted to your physical form, your curves. Even if you’re on the slimmer side, they like your structure and the dips in your spine. They’ll stare at you when you’re talking and zone out, thinking about how attractive they find you. 

They’re not used to having to try to get someone to sleep with them. They have to put effort towards you and they like that. This person is downright thirsty and craves intimacy with you.

Their fantasies aren’t even dirty, they’re passionate. They want to put you in a mating press, with your knees pressed all the way up beside your ears. They want to penetrate (could be with a toy) deeply and touch that gooey part of you that makes you see stars. 

They want to see an imprint of them in your lower belly. Any position where you’re in their arms is a go for them because they like having you. They want every moment to be just you and them away from the world. So very sweet and intimate. They also love marking you, expect lots of hickeys.

Ignore them from time to time too (healthily, these conditions should be discussed beforehand)! They see you as the ultimate prize, so if you delay their satisfaction, they’ll feel like they’re chasing again, which gets them off. They like to feel like they’re convincing you to sleep with them. You both are consenting, but they like the idea of you having better things to do and they’re trying to convince you to stay and party with them. 

They are very action-oriented and love movement. Anything that involves an adventure together, they are down for. 

PS. Surprise them with a bubble bath together, they’ll love that. And tease them while pulling their hair a bit!

Ode To My Darling Sun

[freedomfireflies]

Reckless*

Summary: The third part to Knockout*

The one where Harry secretly gets paid to fight, but you're the one paying the price.

Word Count: 9.2k (...no comment)

Content Warning: 18+, violence, mentions of an abusive ex, mentions of blood, smut

Harry’s fist instantly snaps closed around your hand, subtly but pointedly tugging you back. Seeming to want to put a bit of space between you and the man standing before you.

“Oh, do you…know each other?” you ask slowly, glancing between the two rather curiously.

Jesse offers nothing more than a raise of his eyebrow, redirecting his attention back to Harry as though encouraging him to respond.

Harry merely grits his teeth. “We used to. Long time ago.”

It’s hardly an answer, somehow just as frustratingly vague as you expected, yet you nod, nevertheless. “Ah. I see.”

Jesse’s smile somehow stretches a bit bigger. “Are you working today?”

“Uh, no. Just…came by for the keys,” you answer, shifting your weight from one foot to the other almost nervously. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Thought I’d…maybe stick around a bit? Catch up?”

Harry’s grip gets stronger.

“Besides, today’s pie is apple, yeah?” he asks. “You know it’s my favorite.”

You force a tight-lipped grin and a hum of acknowledgement before the three of you fall silent. Continuing to stand by the door to the diner as the rest of the room continues on with their lunch. Their soft murmurs and clinging cutlery like white noise in the background of the conversation. 

You clear your throat. “Okay, well…I’m gonna…I’m gonna tell him goodbye, and—”

“Oh, sure, no problem,” Jesse says, waving you away before returning to the counter. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll be right here.”

The last word has hardly left his mouth when Harry suddenly spins on his heel and drags you back through the door. Pulling you into the parking lot without so much as a goodbye before leading you around the side of the building.

“Harry,” you murmur hesitantly, almost cautious of his rather silent reaction. In the little time you’ve known him, you’ve never known him to be this quiet when he’s upset. Or this well behaved. “What’s wrong, what is it?”

He continues his furious stride until he’s brought you both into the alley. Releasing you in order to run a hand through his hair with a strained, “Fuck.”

You slow to a stop and stare at his tensed back. “Harry?”

A long pause. Deafening and loud enough to lodge your heart in your throat.

Finally, “How do you know him?”

“What?”

“Fucking Jesse, how do you know him?” he repeats, somewhat viciously.

Your head tilts. “We…I mean we’re friends, but we…we used to date. For a while. Couple years ago. Why?”

He turns, and the pinching of his features together makes your stomach twist. “Was it him?”

“…Harry—”

“Was it…him?” His eyes flick to yours. “The one you fucking told me about. The one who treated you like shit, the one who fucking threw things at you. Was it him?”

You’re almost surprised he remembered. After all, the revelation of your last relationship had been quite a while ago. An off-handed comment made one stormy night as you sat together in his favorite booth, talking about the past and exchanging odd traumas.

But he does. He remembers. And he’s looking at you like your answer is going to break his heart. 

You suck in a quiet breath and hold it deep within your chest. “Yes.”

Your voice is small. Timid and weak, nearly carried away with the wind. But it reaches him, nevertheless, and his expression guts you.

He steps back. Trying to get away, either from you or your admission. The truth he can no longer stand to be so close to.

“Why?” he whispers, and your lashes flutter. “Why did you…why would you keep him in your fucking life after he…”

You offer him the same answer you’ve offered everyone else. “I don’t know.”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and takes another step. Glancing over your face as if searching for more than you have to give. “Cherry…”

“I know.” You can feel the tears already working their way to your waterline. “I know, but he’s…he’s trying to do better. He’s trying to change—”

“Oh, that’s fucking bullshit,” he scoffs, hands shoving into his pockets almost vengefully. “No, that’s bullshit. He’s not…guys like him don’t change. They just get better at hiding it.”

Maybe he’s right. But it stings to hear. “I…yeah. I know. But we’re just…we’re friends. We don’t talk a lot, just when he needs help.”

“So he uses you?”

“No, he…” You hesitate. “I don’t know. I don’t think he means to—”

His vile scoff cuts through the rest of your excuse, and perhaps it’s for the better.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, fingers itching to reach for him. You feel naked without his body against yours. “I should have…I should have warned you. Or told you, I just…I didn’t think—”

“Are you safe?”

You stop. “What?”

“Are you safe?” he repeats, a tad softer. “When he’s around you, do you feel safe? Do you know that you’re safe, and that he won’t…that you can leave? If you need to?”

 You consider this for only a moment before nodding once. “Yes. He’s never…it’s never been like that. He’s just…he gets very angry. And sad. And I think…a part of me wants to help, I guess.”

His expression drops ever-so-slightly, as if wounded. “I know, Cher.” He moves closer to you once again, and you feel like you can finally breathe. He places his palm against your cheek and brushes his thumb beneath your eye. Wiping away the first tear. “You always give your kindness to those who don’t deserve it.”

 You take hold of his wrist and bite back a sigh. “Everybody deserves kindness.”

“Maybe.” His voice is quiet. Labored and thick. “But maybe you deserve it more.”

There’s something…heavy in the way he speaks. In the way he feels. As though he’s carrying the entire weight of his world – and yours – on his shoulders. 

You know there’s more to the story. More to this anger that’s so prominent in his heart and more to his background with Jesse. You want to ask, want to understand.

But if he wanted you to know, he would have offered.

Maybe he thinks he’s sparing you. Maybe he thinks he’s protecting you in the only way he can, and you feel grateful for him. Grateful for this subtle, unspoken act of intimacy and protection that you’ve become so familiar with in the time you’ve known your handsome stranger.

You choose to have faith in him. In what brought you to him.

“I have to go,” he says now, dipping down to brush his forehead to yours. “Cause if I don’t, I’ll fucking kill him.”

You smile to yourself, but a part of you knows he means it. “Okay. Will I see you again?”

His other hand slips around the back of your neck, keeping you close before he exhales a shaky breath and brings his lips to yours. Kissing you hard and with a thousand unspoken promises. “Of course. M’never gonna leave you, sweet girl. Swear it.”

And it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

You kiss him until you can’t breathe, clinging to his hoodie as if begging with him to stay. To keep himself close to you.

And when he eventually pulls away, you nearly crumple to the ground.

“Okay,” he whispers, reaching back to slip his hood on. “Okay, I gotta go. Or I’ll never leave.”

You touch your fingers to your lips and nod once. “I know. Just come back, okay?”

He grins, and it’s wickedly delicious. “Always.”

With that, he turns around, and disappears down the alley. Rounding the corner of the building before disappearing from sight.

Leaving you exactly where he found you, only a few hours ago.

With a heavy heart and weary mind, you make your back into the diner and toward the man still waiting for you.

Jesse has never scared you. Annoyed you, but never scared you. He’s been in your life far longer than you care to admit, ever since you were just kids. And maybe that’s why you keep him around. Because a part of you believes you owe it to the people you used to be.

You loved him. You really did. He was cute, charming, witty. He made you smile, made you laugh. He listened when you talked, said all of the right things. Of course you wanted to believe him when he said he’d do anything to make it work.

His anger had taken him away from you. Had changed who he was. Or perhaps merely highlighted who he’d always been.

He was the one to end things. Claiming he could never offer you the life you deserved. That until he had his temper under control, he couldn’t be with you. You had agreed to remain friends and help him when he lost his way.

He seems to lose his way a lot these days.

And maybe that’s the part that scares you…just a little bit.

“Hey, sugarplum,” he calls once you enter, grinning brighter than he has in weeks. “You all right?”

You nod as you join him near the counter, hands disappearing into your pockets as if to hide. “Mhm. Are you?”

“Absolutely.” He leans over to nudge his elbow against yours. “Feel like it’s been forever.”

“Jess, I saw you last week,” you can’t help but laugh.

“I know, but that was last week,” he argues coyly. “Which is like a lifetime ago.”

And even if there’s a part of you that feels cautious of him, there’s also something so familiar about his company. The sound of his voice, the way he laughs. His effortless ability to remind you of the way things used to be.

Despite how it ended, you can’t help but feel calmed. Your muscles unwinding as you grow a bit more comfortable in his presence.

“Ha, very funny,” you tease, stepping closer as though drawn in by his charm. “Well, if you’re waiting for the apple pie, that’s not until tomorrow.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to come back.”

The conversation lulls as the two of you smirk at each other, and for the first time in days, you don’t feel so on edge.

 “Fine,” you agree. “But you can’t come back to the kitchen with me. Not after last time.”

He pretends to pout, but it only makes you smile. “Oh, come on. Everything was going so well up until the flour incident.”

You reach out and shove his shoulder playfully, and he laughs. “All right, enough. Why are you really here?”

“I told you, I wanna catch up. Clearly I’ve missed a lot.”

The mention of Harry is like a sharp needle to your blissful bubble, popping you free of his spell until you come crashing back to earth. “Right. How, um…how again do you guys know each other?”

“Oh, we don’t. Not really,” Jesse explains, shrugging one shoulder up almost casually. “We used to go to the same gym. Spot each other now and then. But we never really knew each other, I guess.”

“Ah.” 

“Was kind of surprised to see him with you, though,” he adds. “But good surprised. I told him he should come check out the diner, and I’m glad to see he listened."

Harry’s previous mention of how he found you suddenly clicks, and you nod, eyes drifting toward the floor. “Yeah, he…he seems to like it here.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.” He seems oddly thrilled by this. “And I guess you two are…?”

The implication brings a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you quickly shake your head as you step back. Almost as though guarding yourself from his question. “Oh, no, we’re…we’re just friends. Or we’re…yeah. Friends.”

His brows furrow but he’s smiling. “Are you…sure about that?”

No. “Yeah. We don’t…we don’t really know each other that well, is all. We just…we like to talk.”

“I see.” He studies you for a moment, somewhat curious. “I’m glad he found something here he likes so well.”

The heat in your face begins to burn. “Yeah, he…he really likes the pies.”

Jesse hums, expression mischievous. “Yes. The pies.”

You force a laugh and nudge him again. “Okay, enough. I should…I should probably get back—”

“Wait,” he interrupts, slipping off the stool in order to get closer, “is there…any chance you’d fancy a drive? Thought we could go around the block a few times like we used to. Just…listen to the radio and people watch.”

Truth be told, the offer is compelling. Because you know if you go home, all you’ll do is worry. About Harry, about Jesse. About all the things you wish you could do for them but can’t. 

Maybe a distraction is what you need. One day where you aren’t expected to fix everybody else’s problems but your own.

So, you nod. Tentatively but with a small grin that makes Jesse’s entire expression light up. 

“Great,” he chuckles before nodding his chin at you. “So…do you want me to drive? Like old times?”

Your answer is to dig back into your pocket for the keys before tossing them over. “Think you already know the answer to that.”

He laughs again and spins the ring around his finger. “Then let’s hit it, sugarplum.”

It’s almost too easy to settle back into your old habits. To follow him to your car, hop inside the passenger seat, and allow him to take you away.

And it’s nice. Comfortable and…safe. Windows down, music loud. The two of you singing along with every bad song that comes on. It really does feel like it used to, and for just one evening, you forget about everything else. And you let yourself just…be.

The two of you drive around the city until the sun goes down. He tells you about his new job at this fancy law firm and you tell him about this new recipe you’re working on for the diner. You talk, and you laugh, and you sing until your stomach hurts. 

You forget. And you’re okay with that.

“Okay,” he finally declares not much later after a quick glance at the clock. “I know you have to get back, but I just have one last thing I want to show you.”

Your brow raises. “Oh? What?”

“A surprise.” He begins to grin, almost wickedly, and it makes you smirk. “It’ll just be a quick little detour, and then I’ll have you home. Promise.”

You consider this for only a moment before sighing. “Fine. But just for the record, I hate your surprises.”

He merely winks before taking a left and leading you both out of town.

The further you go, the darker it gets. This part of the city appears to be rather neglected, with very few lights along the street to guide you. The buildings are rundown and abandoned, there’s police tape over half the doors and boards across half the windows. 

Sketchy would be putting it mildly.

Yet Jesse appears undeterred, swinging into one of the large, unkempt parking lots where a collection of cars are already gathered.

“I don’t…understand,” you begin slowly, glancing around the dark space in search of answers. 

However, instead of answer, he merely puts the car in park, tosses you the keys, and hops out. “You’ll see. Come on.”

Despite your hesitancy, you choose to follow, trailing after him as he begins toward one of the shabby buildings just up ahead. 

There’s a strange sort of itch crawling its way up the back of your neck. Blossoming into your cheeks until you feel a twinge of apprehension.  

But Jesse walks ahead as though he hasn’t a care in the world. Nonchalant and relaxed, leading you to the door.

Then, he knocks twice, stops, and adds three more.

A beat passes before there’s a sharp, electric buzzing. Immediately followed by the sound of something rather heavy before the door suddenly swings open.

Your breath catches.

The inside of this disheveled building is divine. Luxury drips from floor to ceiling, a rather stark contrast to its exterior. There’s fresh paint on the walls, towers of champagne in each corner of the room, and a crowd of men and women dressed to the nines in their most elegant and expensive outfits.

But there’s something off. They’re yelling, and cursing, and cheering. Raising their glasses while shouting at something happening in the middle of the room. 

And that’s when you see him.

Even from this distance, you’d recognize him anywhere. The soft, sweaty curls matted to his forehead. The blood that drips from his mouth and jaw. The tattoos and marks that glisten from his chest – the same tattoos that you saw for the first time only hours ago.

Your stranger. Landing hit after hit to the man standing just opposite him inside the large ring. 

You don’t move. You don’t think you can breathe. You can’t think straight or understand…and then Jesse throws his arm around your shoulder.

“Let’s go have a look, yeah?” It’s posed like a question, but he’s already leading you toward the crowd before you can decide on your answer.

Your heart is in your toes as he slips through the collection of onlookers. Pulling you to the front until you have a near perfect view of the violence happening only a few feet away.

A perfect view of him.

You’re not sure how long he’s been at it. Clearly long enough, if the new cuts and fresh bruises are any indication. He doesn’t seem to notice you, instead throwing his arm toward his opponent before ducking down to miss the strike back. 

You hear yourself gasp as you recoil away from the forceful blow, nearly hiding yourself beneath Jesse’s arm while he laughs.

“What’s the matter, sugarplum?” he hums. “Thought you’d wanna see what your little boytoy gets up to when he’s not with you.”

You can hear it now. The vindictive sneer hidden beneath his charming chuckle. And that uncomfortable itch begins to burn as you pull yourself back in order to see him. “What?”

Jesse nods toward the boxing ring. “You see, when he’s not with you…he’s quite busy. Beautifully and spectacularly fucking me over.”

You feel the blood drain from your face. “What…what are you talking about?”

“Do you know what this is?” He raises a brow. “Do you know what he really does?”

“He…he fights. He gets paid to fight.”

“Right. And who do you think pays him?”

And that’s when it happens. That’s when the final puzzle piece clicks into place, and you understand. You see the whole picture laid out in front of you, and it wears his face.

“You.” It’s a strained, timid whisper that’s buried beneath the loud, vulgar hollering.

Jesse nods. “Exactly. I pay your boyfriend to beat the shit out of anyone dumb enough to get into that ring with him. And all he has to do…is fucking win.”

The cheering grows louder in your ear as he steps closer. Forcing your attention to split between the two men.

“But I have a problem,” he continues. “You see, Harry can win a fight in his goddamn sleep. He never loses. Ever. That’s why I pay him so much fucking money. That’s why I’m his sponsor.”

Your stomach twists.

“So, imagine my surprise when he suddenly started to lose. Night after night. Over and over. Constantly and consistently losing fights he should have been able to win with his fucking eyes closed.”

There’s something trapped in your throat. The room is spinning, and there’s a ringing in your ear that just won’t quit. 

“And then I find out…he’s fucking throwing them.” His hand finds your hip and he turns you toward the ring. “Every goddamn night, he throws the fight. Because, for some reason, he seems to think that these fights are up to him. He thinks that he gets to decide who wins and who loses.”

He leans down now, lips hovering near your ear while his voice settles into a rather malicious hiss. 

“But the only person that really loses…is me,” he sneers. “Because if he doesn’t win, then I lose a shit ton of money on him. And I don’t really think that’s fair…do you?”

You suck in a quiet breath right as Harry steps back to avoid a massive swing before landing his own blow just beneath the man’s jaw. 

“So, I wondered. Wondered why the switch. Why he’d suddenly be willing to lose so much money and allow his ass to get kicked into his throat…for nothing.”

He leans back now, and your lashes flutter.

“And then I found him…with you.” He tsks almost teasingly while his head cocks to the side. “Seems my best fighter has found himself distracted. Pussy-whipped by a pretty face that serves him fucking pie. And he thinks that if he throws the fights…he can save you.”

A set of knuckles connect with Harry’s left cheek, sending him stumbling back while you suck in a sharp inhale and turn away.

“So…I want you to watch,” Jesse tells you, snaking an arm around your waist in order to keep you in your spot. “I want you to fucking see what you’ve done to him.”

Your features twist into a fearful grimace as you drag your eyes back to the ring. Watching as Harry swipes the back of his hand across his mouth to clear the blood before surging forward. He swings and it’s a miss. Arm flying over the other man’s shoulder before he’s shoved toward the rope.

He’s losing. A few more strikes to the face and you’re almost sure he’ll pass out.

And you don’t understand. Can’t comprehend any of this. Why Jesse brought you here, why Harry does this to himself, and why you’re somehow a part of it.

They lied. They both did. Harry looked you in the eye and told you he didn’t know Jesse. Even when he knew about…all of this.

Jesse being involved in some sort of illegal fight club doesn’t surprise you. Perhaps it should, and yet, it might be the least surprising thing you’ve learned so far. 

But Jesse being Harry’s sponsor…being the one who pays him to do this to himself, who gambles on Harry’s very life…

Another strike is laid to his jaw, forcing Harry’s head to snap to the side.

And he sees you.

You watch the realization pass over his face in real time. The way his eyes widen and his lips part.

He stumbles back from the blow, catching himself on the ropes before Jesse tightens his hold on your hips…and Harry looks over.

The rage that settles into the lines and details of his features is evident. The way his teeth grit together, the way the veins in his neck strain against his skin, the way his fingers flex by his side.

He must understand why you’re here now and he channels this understanding and rage into his next hit.

He spins to the side, flings his arms around his opponent’s waist, and yanks him down.  Throwing him so hard to the floor, you’re almost surprised he doesn’t break his spine right down the middle.

Half of the crowd cheers while the other half yells in disappointment.

But Jesse merely smirks.

And you realize that this is what he wanted. To use you as a tool in his game. A pawn for his pleasure until Harry’s hand was forced.

Harry rears back only to raise his fist into the air. Over and over, he lands his knuckles to the man’s face. Hit after hit after hit until there’s blood everywhere. Dripping from his knuckles, the man’s nose, his mouth.

He doesn’t stop. Even long after he should, and the man has gone limp. He goes and goes and goes until the referee has to physically step into the ring and drag him back.

And the fight is declared over.

They grab Harry’s wrist and sling it into the air, raising his arm in victory while the room hollers their support. 

Your heart is racing inside your chest, going far too fast, and you feel a rush of blood to your head. Your knees are shaking, and your hands feel clammy, and you can’t breathe and why won’t that ringing in your ear stop?

“This is what he’s good at,” Jesse murmurs to you now, lips ghosting down the shell of your ear. “This is all he’s good for. And he fucking knows it.”

The room begins to disperse while Harry is led out of the ring and into the shadows on the far side of the building. 

Your eyes and your heart go with him.

“So, you’re gonna do what you do best,” Jesse continues. “You’re gonna remind him why he has to fucking win. Because if he throws one more goddamn fight…I’ll fucking kill him myself.”

With that, he releases you, and turns around. Disappearing into the crowd before you can stop him.

You stand there, in the middle of this extravagant room, and you stare at the ring. And the blood stains on the mat. And the shadows that dance across the floor from the chandelier on the ceiling. The collection of empty glasses and empty promises that are scattered about the vast space.

Then, your feet are pulling you toward the door Harry disappeared into. Taking you to him, despite everything else. Because even after all of this, you want to help him. To make sure that he’s okay, and…and fix him. Somehow. 

The door leads to a hallway that leads to what you can only assume is a locker room. It’s empty when you arrive, although you aren’t too surprised. The other fighter was taken to the opposite end of the building, and the people who led Harry away don’t seem to be around.

You hesitate for only a moment, attempting to decipher if you truly feel safe being alone with him after everything you’ve seen in the past 24 hours.

But the answer is obvious.

So, with a deep breath, you brave a step inside. 

The shower is running. Steam already beginning to dance through the air as you pass by the collection of lockers and benches. Looking for any sign of him. Your stranger who perhaps isn’t so strange anymore.

You see his clothes tossed toward the floor. See a trail of scarlet streaks leading you further into the room and toward the showers just around the corner.

And you don’t hesitate now as you step past the wall in order to see him.

He’s standing beneath the stream of water, one hand braced against the wall as he stares down at the floor. Watching the blood disappear down the drain.

And he’s…beautiful. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him – all of him – and you feel your breath hitch as you step closer. Allowing your eyes to travel along his tall, tensed frame. From his curls to his thighs and everything in between.

“Harry?”

Your voice snaps his head up, and he turns. Instantly pushing off the wall in order to fully face you. 

“Cherry, you can’t be here,” he breathes, and it’s almost lost beneath the heavy stream of water. “Can’t be in here, it’s not safe—”

But you’re already moving closer, toeing off your shoes and tossing your jacket aside before stepping inside the showers. 

His lashes flutter, the muscles in his stomaching quivering as he leans back. “Cher, I mean it. You can’t…I can’t let you see me like this.”

You step up to him. Ignoring his protests and the water pouring from the ceiling, you step up, you put your arms around his shoulders…and you hold him.

At first, he goes still. Deathly still, almost bracing himself from your touch. Afraid of what it means.  

Then, he settles. Understands that you only want to help, and slumps into your embrace while his face buries into your neck.

You reach up and run your palm down his head. Carding your fingers through the wet curls before squeezing the back of his neck. “You’re okay.”

He takes in a sharp inhale, arms snaking around your middle. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says again. And his voice breaks like the cracks of a sidewalk.

You merely hold him tighter. “But I am.”

And there’s so much to say. So much to understand and question, but right now, he just needs you to hold him. To let him know that it’s okay – that he’s okay.

That you’re not going anywhere.

You stand there for what feels like hours. Until your clothes become soaked, and your fingers begin to prune. But you keep your grip on him tight. Offering nothing more than soft murmurs of, “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

He’s angry. So very angry, and you can feel it in the way his muscles twitch beneath your hands. Can hear it in the shallow breaths he takes and the clenching of his jaw. 

He’s trying to keep himself together. For you. But he’s moments away from slipping, and you can only hope you’ll be able to bring him back.

“Harry?” you whisper, scratching your nails down his bare shoulder.

His head shakes. “No. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it.”

“Har—”

“No.” He leans back, lip curled up into a snarl. “No, I can’t…I fucking can’t—”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, taking hold of his wrists to keep him close. “Okay, I understand—”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says for the third time. “You aren’t supposed to be here, and I can’t fucking believe he brought you.”

“I know. I know, but I’m okay. It’s okay, I promise—”

“What did he say?” His eyes flick between yours. “What did he say to you?”

You feel your insides twist as you squeeze his hands. Taking a moment to find the right words. “He…he wanted me to see what you really do. And…to tell you that you have to win.”

His brows stitch together. “What else?”

“Nothing,” you lie. “Just…just that.”

And maybe he doesn’t believe you. Maybe he knows there was more to Jesse’s threat, but it doesn’t matter because he’s tugging himself out of your grasp and turning toward the wall before you can argue. Sending his knuckles straight into the tile until it cracks.

You gasp, quickly surging forward to pull on his arm in protest. “Harry—”

Surprisingly, he allows you to yank him away, but he doesn’t look at you. He keeps his venomous glare on the drain, chest heaving with uneven breaths.

But you aren’t deterred. Instead, you guide him back to you, and lift his hands. Studying the torn skin of his knuckles closely with a sigh. “Harry…”

The wounded waver in your voice makes his expression soften, and he allows his shoulders to roll back. Releasing a bit of his rage. “It’s okay. M’okay, Cher—”

“No,” you argue softly. “No, you’re…”

You can’t find the words. Can’t find the right thing to say that explains this anguish in your heart. That lives within your chest.

So, instead, you bring his ruined hands to your lips, and you hold them there. Kissing the stained, battered skin while he sucks in a quiet breath. 

And you don’t care. About any of it. About the fights, or the lies, or the threats. You don’t care what he really does or who he really is. 

You just want him to be happy. To be safe. No matter what that looks like. No matter what you have to do to make that a reality. 

You want to kiss away his scars, kiss away his pain. Take it and make it your own. Carry the weight he’s been trying to carry all by himself.

You don’t want him to be alone. You want to keep him, you want…

He watches you. Keeps his eyes glued to nearly every inch of your face as you do this. And something changes for him. You aren’t sure what.

But he sets his anger free before slipping his fingers from yours in order to take hold of your face.

And he kisses you. Pulls you to him almost desperately before pressing his lips to your own.

It’s soft, and sweet, and so deliciously him. Gentle despite everything else you’ve seen from him today.

He steps forward, subtly pushing you back. Again and again until your back meets the wet, tile wall.

He holds you there almost hesitantly before straightening up and deepening the kiss. Slipping his tongue in beside yours and savoring everything you have to offer. 

And you let him take whatever he’d like. Allow him to have all of you as his chest meets yours and he cages you there. Hungry kisses now moving for your neck.

His touch travels to your hips, nails curling into your shirt as though resisting the urge to grab hold. And you smile as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Breath hitching at the way his thigh brushes against yours.

You drop one hand to his chest. Allow the tips of your fingers to dance along the swallows on his collarbone and toward the muscles in his abdomen. Careful to mind his stitching and new cuts.

And he seems to remember now that he’s completely bare to you, his mouth falling still against your wet skin as he steadies himself.

Quickly, you stop yourself from going any further, settling atop his stomach before nosing under his jaw. “You’re so beautiful, Harry.”

He says nothing, lips ghosting across your pulse point before pressing in deep. 

“All of you,” you whisper. “You’re beautiful.”

His lashes flutter shut while his arm loops around your back. Face burying in your shoulder as though to hide, and you wonder if he’s embarrassed or enthralled. 

Either way, you gingerly ask, “…may I touch you?”

There’s a quick pause before he nods. Only once, and then he returns to leaving an array of kisses to your throat. Nipping at the skin until you smile.

So, you continue your search, moving your hand toward his hips and down until you feel him.

And the moment your palm brushes against his cock, you both gasp. Straightening up almost attentively before settling back into the pleasure. 

Your thumb finds his slit and he curses. Hands tightening around the fabric of your shirt, keeping you against the tile as if he’s worried you’ll disappear.

“Shit,” he mumbles, palm moving to your cheek. “Baby, you know you don’t have—”

“Shh.” You wrap your fingers around the tip before smoothing down. “I want to. Please?”

When he says nothing, you stop, and it forces an instant groan. His body seeming to have made the decision for him.

“Yes,” he finally says, nodding again but quicker. “Shit, yes, Cherry. Can do whatever you want. M’yours.”

And it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

You chase after his pleasure as though your life depends on it. And perhaps it does, but you certainly don’t mind. Because his grunts and pants are deliciously addictive. And you could spend the rest of your life touching him if it meant you’d get to hear just one more.

And maybe now you understand why he’s also so determined to do the same for you.

You run your hand up and down his cock, squeezing the tip before moving lower. Palming at his balls before dragging your touch back to the top. 

He does his best not to rush you or overwhelm you. Resisting the urge to buck his hips closer in a desperate attempt for more.

Instead, he focuses his attention on you. A role he seems much more comfortable in.

He kisses you everywhere he can. Your lips, your cheeks, your jaw, your nose, your neck. Below your ear, along your collarbone, and down the dip in your shirt.

Then, his fingers slip down to your jeans. Absentmindedly fiddling with the button before he whispers, “Can I touch you, sweet girl? Wanna make you feel good, too.”

And who are you to deny him?

“Always,” you whisper back, releasing him for only a moment so he can wrangle the wet material down your legs. 

Once he has, he straightens up, and runs his palm along the inside of your thigh. Indulging in the feel of your skin while you take him back in your hold.

And it’s strangely beautiful, this dance you do. The synchronicity of teasing touches and playful strokes that leave you both breathless.

Anytime you gently tighten your fist around him, he curls his finger inside your walls. And anytime you brush at his slit, he brushes at your clit. 

You both share a smile when you realize, and Harry laughs before nuzzling his face back into your neck. Tugging your skin between his teeth to muffle his groan.

“You have no idea how badly I needed this,” he says. And it’s a faint thought, perhaps not meant for your ears. “Fucking need you, baby. Always.”

Your head drops back against the wall. Your body already growing sluggish under the weight of undeniable euphoria he inflicts.

“You always have me,” you tell him. “I’ll do whatever you want—”

“Shit.” He yanks your chest to his, mouth painting warm, wet kisses along your skin. “Don’t say that. Don’t, or I’ll never stop.”

You grin. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

You go faster. Finding a pace he seems to enjoy and zeroing in. You want him to cum – need him to cum. To offer him that release and that promise of more. 

And it works. His tattoos rise and fall under the weight of his frantic gasps for air. He’s tipping over the edge, just needing a final push, and you want to get him there more than anything. Want to see what his face looks like when it’s overcome with pleasure. When he’s releasing into your hand, or your mouth, or your cunt. Want to feel him, know how his body moves when it’s spent.

“Please,” you murmur, almost anxiously as you work him closer. “Please, Har…let me feel you. Wanna feel you cum, please.”

He moves to squeeze the back of your neck before his hand disappears into your hair. Gently but pointedly tugging on your roots. “Baby—”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, you can cum. Can cum for me—”

“Fuck.” He jolts forward, fingers slipping from your cunt. “So good to me, sweet girl. So fucking good to me. Don’t deserve you. Never deserved you—”

“Yes,” you nearly whine. “Of course you do, Har, please—”

He cums with a soft groan that bleeds into your throat. Woven between his kisses and flicks of his tongue to your skin, and it’s everything. The warmth, the feel, the implication. It covers your hand, and wrist, and even parts of your thighs. 

And you watch it drip down toward the floor almost regretfully, but you’re mesmerized. Addicted to something you only just discovered, and desperate for more.

But he gives you no time to reminisce, instead moving his mouth to yours in order to show you exactly how much it meant to him.

  “Knew you’d be good,” he remarks playfully, nipping at your bottom lip before squeezing your waist. “Fucking knew, yeah?”

You release his cock as gently as you can before smoothing your palms up his chest and into his hair. Tugging on his curls in order to bring him closer. “Just for you.”

He smirks to himself before leaning back to study you. Glancing over your body as though in search of something. And the longer he looks, the angrier he appears to become.

Then, he mumbles, “He fucking touched you.”

Your heart wrenches. “…Har—”

“He touched you,” he says again, bitterly, and almost to himself. “He fucking put his hands on you and he made sure I saw. Wanted me to see, and now…now I can’t see anything else.”

You don’t think you’ve ever felt a panic like this. “Harry, please—”

He crouches down, large hands curling around your thighs and pulling them as far apart as they’ll go. Which, admittedly, isn’t very far because of the jeans still pooled around your ankles. But he doesn’t mind, instead staring at your legs rather thoughtfully.

Finally, he looks up.

“I need to wash him away,” he whispers, and your stomach leaps into your throat.

“What?”

“I need to wash him away,” he repeats softly, moving closer to ghost his lips along your hip. “Need to erase him. Need to clean him off you.”

Your fingers twitch by your side, and you aren’t even sure what to say. Because the look in his eye is unrelenting, and you can see how badly he wants this.

“Okay,” you exhale. “Okay, erase him. Make me yours again.”

And this is all he needs to hear, wasting no more time before smoothing his lips and his hands along your thighs and waist. Repainting every inch of you with his touch. Washing away the metaphorical marks Jesse left when he held you and replacing them with his own. 

Even if it’s not inherently sexual, it’s the most erotic and wonderful thing you’ve ever experienced. The way he feasts on your flesh like a man on a mission. Nipping and licking at you just to make you whimper. He’s nowhere near your clit and it doesn’t even matter because he’s so divine.

The heat of his mouth on your cool, wet skin. The way he gingerly kneads at your ass in an attempt to comfort you. Tenderly pulling you closer as though you’re somehow still too far away.

“I’m sorry, Cherry,” you hear him sigh, and it makes your insides tighten. “M’so fucking sorry for doing this to you. For bringing you into this.”

Your expression drops while your head shakes. “You didn’t. You didn’t, I asked. I asked to be a part of you, and I don’t regret that.”

But it’s like he can’t hear you over the sound of his shame. Instead kissing you softer as if to apologize. “It’s my fault. Should have told you the moment I saw him. Should have taken you with me. Shouldn’t have left you with him when I fucking knew—”

“Hey.” You reach down and take hold of his hair. Yanking his attention to you. “None of this could ever be your fault. Do you understand?”

He seems to ignore this as well, nudging his nose against your hip with a crestfallen expression that makes you want to scream.

So, you tug harder, forcing his head back and his eyes on yours. “This is who Jesse has always been. You didn’t change that, and you never will. And I know that. I know him. I know his heart and I know what he’d do to hurt me.”

His lips part, as if going to speak, but you merely tighten your grip in an unspoken order to remain silent.

“And I know you,” you continue. “I know that this is who you are. All of this. The fighting and the bets and the torture you put yourself through. And I know that you would never hurt me. That you have always done your best to protect me, even if I didn’t know what I was being protected from.”

His hands begin to drop down your legs and toward the floor, an act of complete submission. 

“This is not your fault,” you repeat earnestly. “You are not responsible for Jesse’s intentions, and you’re certainly not reasonable for mine. And I need you to know that. Okay? You have to know that. Because I have never felt safer than I do with you.”

His features remain unchanged, and you wonder if he heard anything that you said at all. If he understood and internalized your instance. If he’ll believe it.

And then—

“I love you.”

You feel your pulse skip inside your chest as you suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“I love you, Cherry.” He says it again without pause, without a moment’s hesitation. Proving that it wasn’t a mistake or a trick of the mind. He really said it. And he meant to. “And m’so fucking sorry it took him for me to realize it.”

You aren’t sure what to do. What to say or…what to think, but he’s already shaking his head and offering you a small smile before you can decide.

“I don’t want you to say it,” he says quickly and quietly. Slipping your hand from his hair in order to press his lips into your palm. “I just want you to know. And I wish I could have done it differently, but…I do, I love you. And I will do everything I can to prove that to you.”

You want to tell him that he already has. Want to tell him a lot of things that maybe you shouldn’t, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

He merely kisses your hand before moving back to your thighs. Looking for your permission to continue. 

Breathlessly, you give it to him.

With a soft grin and great care, he extends his tongue and slowly drags it up your clit. He’s not rushing this time. He’s enjoying it. Allowing himself to indulge in your taste and your feel as you slump against the tile and let him.

He leaves a trail of apologies and promises along your pussy. Kissing, sucking, and flicking until you squirm. And he’s so focused, so dedicated to your orgasm. To making you understand how badly he needs you.

And you do understand. More than you’ve ever understood anything else.

“Love to see you, baby,” he murmurs after a moment, now running the tip of his finger between your folds and down. Taunting you with the intrusion yet not giving it to you. “Love to see this pretty pussy take me.”

You whine pitifully before he finally pushes in. Allowing your walls to beckon him closer until he hums.

“Can’t wait to see you take my cock,” he muses, thrusting the digit once or twice before bringing a second into play. “Gonna watch you stretch for me. Gonna just sit and watch this sweet, little hole take me in. Get me nice and warm. Till I’m soaking in you. Fucking drenched—”

“Harry,” you whine, overcome by a rather euphoric rush that makes him smirk. “Harry, please—”

“What, sweet girl? You like the sound of that?” He ignores your cries and flicks his tongue against your clit. “S’okay. I do, too. Think about it more than I should. Think about you and this tasty little cunt till I’m fucking my fist in the shower.”

The lewd image that’s painted in your head makes your toes curl, and you imagine you’d give anything to watch.

“But it’s not nearly as good as when you do it,” he says coyly. “Won’t ever be able to picture anything else but your sweet, little hand wrapped around my cock. Making me cum like a good girl.”

He adds a third finger, and your vision goes hazy.

“And this,” he breathes, fucking into you a bit faster. Until the sound of your arousal bounces between the walls. “Replay this in my head every goddamn day. The way you sound when you take my fingers, take my tongue. S’fucking beautiful, Cher. The best thing I’ve ever heard.”

You believe him.

“Wanna listen to you forever.” He laps at you like he’s dying of thirst. “Wanna taste you, wanna feel you. Wanna fucking hold you and never let you go. Never let anything hurt you. You’re the only good thing in my life, sweet girl. Need you to know.”

You aren’t sure if the tears in your eyes are from the pleasure or his admittance, but they fall from your cheeks almost mercilessly. And you can’t even wipe them away because, in some strange sort of way, you enjoy it. This pain and this angst that comes with the man on his knees before you.

“You’re mine, yeah?” he asks next. But the lustful undertone is gone. He’s pleading with you now. Begging you. “Not his, but mine. Always mine.”

Your agreeance comes before you can question it. “Yes…yes, I’m yours. Yours, I promise—”

 He groans into your cunt like he’s never been happier. And the reverberation down your thighs and across your clit nearly ruins you. “Say it again. Say it again, baby, please—”

“I’m yours. Just yours, Harry. Not his. Never…never his—”

“Fuck.” He pulls on your thigh in order to bury his mouth into your pussy. And you almost wonder if he’s actively trying to suffocate himself. “Again. Again, Cherry—”

“Yours.” The word drips from your tongue like honey from a honeycomb. “Just yours. Don’t wanna be anybody else’s.”

His entire face is nuzzled between your legs, and it almost kills you. Because he’s so beautiful. You’ve never seen or felt something so ethereal, and you can’t look away. Even when your eyes are desperate to fall shut, you force your attention on him. Watching as he mouths at your clit and drives in his fingers until it hits you.

You nearly collapse onto the floor, but he refuses to let you. Keeping you upright before you can go slipping down the wall and cementing you to his tongue in order to drag you through to the other side. 

“Mine,” you vaguely hear him hum, and your heart flutters. “Always mine.”

When he’s sure you’ve caught your breath, he straightens back up, and takes you in his arms. Kissing you and holding you and keeping you safe. Making sure you understand that he wants more than your orgasms. He wants you. Even without the explicit words, you know his true intentions. Know where his heart truly lies, and you settle there beside it.

Moments pass before either of you speak again. Instead listening to the sound of the running water hitting the floor. 

And you’re afraid to be the first to break this tranquility. Because you know once you do, you might not find it again. Jesse’s threat still lingers rather prominently in the forefront of your mind. And you’re terrified that every time you look at Harry…you’ll remember.

“Cherry?” he whispers minutes later, and your pulse jumps. 

You bury your face in his neck, bracing yourself from whatever he might say next. “Harry.”

He nuzzles his cheek against the crown of your head and sighs. And you can feel the heaviness of the breath leave his body. “I don’t know what to do.”

The vulnerability makes your throat run dry, and you subsequently tighten your arms around his middle. “Don’t have to do anything.”

“Cherry—”

“No, just…we’re okay,” you insist. “It’s okay. You just…you’ll win. You’ll keep fighting and you’ll win, and we’ll be okay. And I won’t have to lose you.”

A beat. “But what if I lose you?”

“You won’t. Never.”

“But he knows, Cher,” he murmurs. “He knows, and he’ll use you to hurt me. He’ll drag you into this as many times as he fucking wants, and he’ll use you. And I can’t let him – I won’t let him.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care what he does, he doesn’t scare me, Har—”

“But he fucking scares me.” His volume rises until it can carry over the shower walls. “All right? He terrifies me. Because now he has the one thing I can’t fucking…”

Your eyelids flutter before you take hold of his hand.

“And he wants to play this stupid fucking game, and I won’t let him,” Harry continues. “I won’t let him use you or threaten you, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper. “Okay, but you’re the one with all the cards. Right? He’s shown his hand. He’s shown how desperate he is. He can’t do anything to me if he really wants you to listen—”

“You don’t know him like this,” he nearly scoffs. “You don’t know what he’s willing to do—”

“Harry—”

“I can’t…I can’t,” he seethes. “I can’t get him out of my fucking head, and I can’t let him win. I won’t let him win.”

He’s unrelenting. Unwavering in this insistence and you feel as though your insides are being twisted around a knife.

All he has to do is win. All he has to do is let Jesse believe he’s still in charge. And he’ll be okay. You’ll both be okay.

“Harry,” you try again. Softer this time, hoping to reach him. “We’re gonna be fine. Okay? It’s you and me. We’ll be all right. We have to be.”

His expression instantly drops before he dips down and lays his forehead to yours. 

He says nothing else. Offers no more ideas or excuses. He simply exists in this belief and the serenity it provides.

Even if he knows it’s not strong enough to stand on.

“Okay,” he finally mumbles. “You and me.”

And it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard. Because for the first time all night, you see the way out. You see a future where he can be who he is, and you can be who you are, and it can still be all right. Where you can be together and be free of any threats and complications and just exist in this little world you’ve created.

A world outside of the diner and the backseat of his car. A world where he offers you more than his orgasms but his secrets, too. His life. And you need that. You need it more than you’ve ever needed anything in your life.

He leads you out of the shower not much later, digging through his things before offering you his hoodie and sweats to wear home. 

And there’s something so intimate about wearing his clothes. The way the tattered fabric feels against your skin. The way it smells like his cologne and the shampoo he must use. The way it fits your frame as if it was always meant to, keeping you warm despite the frigid air that greets you when you step outside.

You offer to drive him home, but he refuses. Insisting that it’s better if you don’t know where he lives, at least for right now. And you don’t have it in you to argue.

He makes you promise to lock your door the moment you get inside the car, and to lock your apartment door the moment it’s closed. You vow to do both before dragging him closer for a kiss.

And he gives it to you. He gives you five kisses, in fact. One on the forehead, one on each cheek, one on the nose, and finally…one on your lips.

 When he lets you go, you feel empty. Lost. As though a part of you is missing, and it aches the entire way home.

In fact, it aches for the next two days until you can finally see him again. And you busy about your shift, watching the clock like a hawk until midnight finally strikes, and you fly through the kitchen doors. Ready to see him and fill this gap in your chest.

But for the second time this week…booth 505 is empty. 

Instantly, the blood drains from your face. All the way down to your toes, and almost feel faint as your shaky legs carry you to his table.

However, the moment you’re close enough, you catch something just out of your peripheral, tucked just beneath the sugar dispenser. Something that most certainly wasn’t there a few minutes ago. 

A note.

With furrowed brows, you slip the folded napkin free and bring it closer. Straightening it out until you can make out the haphazard message scrawled across in black ink.

Meet me at the station after your shift.

Don’t tell Owen.

H.

Next Part:

~ Uppercut*

Previous Part:

~ Whiplash*

~ Full Knockout Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @lovebittenbyevans @caynonmoondreams @amberbambridge @percysaidnever @prettydelilah @ripesinner @fairytale07 @hannah9921 @mitochondrialeva-blog1 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @buckybarnessimpp @lomlhstyles @be-with-me-so-happily @daphnesutton @ribbonknives @stylesfever @slutforcoffein @rainycowbride @harringtonhundreds @kaybee87 @youcan-nolonger-run @tobesocoldasyou @cherryshouse @char112244 @harryscowgirl @hsbabygirl22-blog @mypolicemanharryyy @snwells @hermionelove @cherryluvhobi @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs

[lanadelnegan]

so basically instead of eugene its reader and negan finds it super hot that she's hot and has brains, and while she's explaining how to make bullets all he can stare at is how tiny her articles of clothing are and maybe fucks her in the building while the guards are right outside? love your writing

Ahhh i love this idea so much.

Smarty Pants

Negan x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, quickie with Negan while the others are outside

"And, so, yeah, that's how you make a bullet." You pushed your glasses further up the bridge of your nose, hesitantly looking up at the Savior's leader before you.

A smirk lingered at the corner of his mouth as his eyes slid slowly up your body before landing on your eyes. You blushed, realizing he'd been staring and silently praised yourself for choosing to wear a spaghetti strapped sundress today. It was yellow, your favorite color, and contrasted perfectly with your skin. You'd be lying if you said you weren't trying to impress him.

The only good thing about being at the sanctuary was getting to look at Negan everyday. Although you missed your friends back home, it wasn't so bad here. And, at least Daryl was here with you, even though he was a prisoner.

Your eyes flashed to Daryl, who standing behind Negan with cuffs shackled to his ankles and wrists. You felt an immediate sense of guilt every time you saw him. It wasn't fair that you got special treatment just for being highly intelligent. Daryl had just as much - if not more - to offer the saviors. The difference is, you were willing to succumb to them. To Negan.

Negan noticed you eyeing Daryl, making you nervously turn away and head inside. Before you could make it too far down the hall, Negan’s voice stopped you.

"Not so fast, smarty pants.” He slowly walked towards you, baseball bat in hand and your heart raced in your chest. You backed against the wall while Negan stood in front of you in a fitted white t-shirt.

"Darlin'. Have I properly thanked you for the service you're doing here?" His voice was deeper than usual and the sound of it alone made you wet.

"N-no, but no need, sir..”

"Oh, how inconsiderate of me." His voice boomed. “I would love the chance to show my appreciation to my sweet, little bullet maker. If you're up for it?"

You politely nodded and his grin deepened as he looked down at you.

"That’s a good girl." Lucille touched your ankle, stinging your skin but you didn't move. The head of the bat traced up your leg lightly, leaving a mark until it reached your sensitive thigh. You felt the bottom of your dress lifting as Negan watched.

"Like opening a birthday present, baby. Did you wear this pretty dress just for me?”

You nodded again, causing him to pull his bat away and lean it against the wall beside you.

“Can’t hear you, sweetheart. Speak when you’re spoken to.” He whispered in your ear.

“Y-yes. I wore it for you.” You admitted, earning a pleased chuckle from him.

“Yeah? You want my attention, baby? You’ve fuckin' got it.”

Your body shivered when his hand slid up your thigh and reached your panties. You were already soaked and from Negan’s reaction, it was obvious. He let out a satisfied groan before pressing his lips to the sensitive spot underneath your ear.

“So warm and wet for me already. Tell me what you want, darlin’.” He whispered, and you heard the sound of his pants quickly unzip.

"I want.. you to fuck me. Right here, please."

Negan chuckled and lifted you suddenly by your thighs, guiding your legs around his waist.

“That? Is exactly what the fuck I wanted to hear.”

He pulled your panties to the side while pressing you against the wall and entered you completely, not giving you time to adjust. Your mouth fell open into an "o" shape at how deep he went. You both let out a satisfied groan before his thrusts became steady and fast.

"Oh my goddd! It's so.. so.." You tried to finish your sentence but he took your breath away, so he finished it for you.

"Big. I know baby, and I am balls fucking deep in you right now. Taking me like a champ. I am so. fucking. proud. of you baby girl." He grunted while he spoke filthy words in your ear and you held onto him tight.

Burying your face into the side of his neck, you cried from the overwhelming fullness. Each one of his thrusts made your stomach tighten and your vision became blurry as you moaned loudly in his ear.

"Goddamn it, you feel so good wrapped around my dick. Who do you belong to?”

“You! Negan!”

“That’s fucking right, baby. You are mine.” He pumped into you harder, making you see stars as his hands squeezed your ass cheeks hard enough to leave bruises.

You could hear the guards talking right outside, knowing they could enter at any moment, but the thought of getting caught was even more thrilling. Your orgasm was coming quickly and so hard it made your eyes water.

"Ohhh fuck, I can feel you throbbing baby. Let me have it, cum for daddy." He sank his teeth into your neck, undoubtedly leaving a hickey.

“Negan! Negan! I’m cumming!” You screamed.

“Shit doll, me too. Fuck, fuck.” Negan groaned loudly as he came inside of you. He kissed you before setting you down on your feet and pulling out of you. Seconds later you felt your panties pool with his warm liquid and all you wanted to do in that moment was taste it.

"Goddamn that was exactly what I fuckin' needed!" He laughed, zipping himself back in his pants. "But I am nowhere near done with you, darlin'. How would you like stay in my room tonight?

"I thought.. that was just for your wives.."

"Jesus, I am so sorry." He said sarcastically. "I assumed you were one of them now considering I just fucked your brains out?"

Was he.. asking me to be his wife?

"Oh.. um. I mean, I want to be, so..." You paused, waiting for him to continue.

"If you're expecting a formal proposal, don't." He chuckled. "The only time you'll see me on my knees is when I'm eating that sweet pussy. Now sweetheart, we were not finished with our conversation outside. Let's go." He picked up Lucille and you followed him back outside, listening to his happy whistle as the rest of the group went silent and stared at us awkwardly.

Oh god, they totally heard everything.

"Continue." Negan demanded.

Simon cleared his throat and continued talking to the group. You shifted uncomfortably at the warmth in your panties, trying to focus on what they were saying but Negan's breath against your ear distracted you.

"Those panties stay on for the rest of the day. No exceptions."

[rafecameroninterlude]

rafe + mean!reader orgasm control

warnings: friends with benefits, mean!reader, dark!reader, orgasm control, degradation (i promise rafe loves it <3), orgasm denial, fluff (just a lil)

a/n: this is so evil your req is perfect bb!!

“please, just let me touch you.” you smiled wickedly, shaking your head as rafe shuddered underneath your gaze. “let you touch me? no fucking way.” he swallowed thickly, your laugh echoing in his ears. “look at yourself.” you tugged on the roots of rafe’s hair, making him examine himself in the mirror. “this is the big bad rafe cameron that everyone is so scared of? how pathetic.” you whispered the last part in his ear.

your eyes traveled down his reflection, his cock rock hard. “what do you think people would say if they saw you like this? so needy and desperate while i still have all my clothes on?” he looked up at you as you stood between his thighs. “beg for it.” you giggled at the way his jaw clenched, running a nail underneath his chin. “please, ‘wanna make you feel good.” his hands rested on the back of your thighs, kneading the flesh there.

“yeah? it looked like you wanted to make that touron feel good, too.” at the mention of the girl he had on his lap all night long, rafe groaned, meeting your stare. “that was stupid of me, i-” you shushed him, rolling your eyes. “i don’t care who you do, ‘cameron, we have a ‘no strings attached’ arrangement, remember?” rafe blinked, watching as you slowly pushed him down on your bed. you were by far his favorite view, his heart skipping a beat when you started pulling down the straps of your dress.

“you look so good like this.” his chest rose and fell as you traced the ridges of his muscles. rafe thought he’d die if he couldn’t cup you through your bra, the swells of your breasts making him run his tongue across his bottom lip. without warning, you wrapped a hand around his length, a groan tumbling from his throat. “oh, fuck,” you gripped him at the base, leaning down to take his lips in your own. rafe kissed you like a man starved, physically restraining himself from flipping both of you over so he could have his way with you.

“you’re killing me, y/n.” his eyebrows knitted together, mouth falling open in a silent moan. you picked up your speed, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “good.” he half laughed, the smile dropping from his face when you ran your thumb over the head of his cock. “i’m not going to last long.” rafe shook his head, groaning to himself. “already?” you teased, the man in front of you shooting daggers in your direction.

you felt his hips stutter, his jaw going slack as his head rolled to the side. knowing rafe was on the edge of finishing, you pulled away, his body writhing with need. “no, no, no, why did you stop?” he sat up, panting for air. the look on his face was priceless. dark eyes, swollen lips, you couldn’t deny the way he made butterflies flutter in your tummy. letting your dress fall to the ground, rafe didn’t care anymore, too sexually frustrated to allow you to keep up your cruel ministrations.

a yelp left your lips when he pulled you on top of him only to roll you over and pin you beneath him. “you’re cute just as you are stupid.” you cooed, hand finding his length once again. “you know what’s going to happen?” rafe hummed, his head falling on your shoulder. “i’m gonna get you right on the edge again, ‘wait until you’re about to blow your load before i kick you out.” he knew you meant every word, having not been the first time you do this.

“you’re cruel, you know that?” he huffed out, pecking your temple. you tried to keep the flutter of your heart at bay, ultimately betraying yourself when you met his gaze. “maybe. but that’s why you keep crawling back for more.. literally.” rafe shut his eyes momentarily, the strokes of your hand sending a shiver down his spine. “please, please, please.” you kept a steady pace, making him look you in the eyes as he neared pure euphoria.

“your pretty face isn’t making this any easier for me.” rafe said through gritted teeth, welcoming the kisses you trailed across his chest. he knew when he felt you smile against his skin, you were going to kill him with your next words. “go home, rafe.” you pushed him softly, moving out from underneath him and settling in the comfort of your sheets. he blinked, the tension in his abdomen melting away into nothing.

even though this was torture for him, he loved every second of it. you were the only girl that didn’t give him what he wanted, and for that reason he found himself absolutely hooked. rafe kept his eyes trained on you as he got dressed, admiring your features before he opened your bedroom door. “i’ll be by tomorrow..” you hummed, turning away from him. “of course you are.”

[zepskies]

Imagine: Soldier Boy Getting Jealous...

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader || (past Frenchie x F. Reader)

Request: Soldier Boy finding out you had something with Frenchie, years before meeting him.

Word Count: 1K

Tags/Warnings: Jealousy lol (With a hint of spice.~)

Imagine: Ben getting jealous over your past relationship with Frenchie.

He doesn't care.

Because he doesn't care...

When you sit him down in the living room of your apartment and tell him you used to date Frenchie, Ben's reaction is mild at best. To the point where it kind of concerns you.

Ben raises a brow and gives a deep hum.

"Oh, really? That limey bastard?" he remarks. He takes a sip from his tumbler of whiskey. You give him a weary sigh.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call him that," you reply. You and Frenchie are still friends. Your "entanglement" was years ago, before he even started hooking up with Cherie.

But you still want to be honest with Ben. You two have been dating for a few months now, and it's actually serious. No one's more surprised than you by that fact, but...you're happy. You think he is too.

At your response, however, Ben rolls his eyes and continues drinking. You tilt your head in suspicion.

"So you're chill?" you ask.

"Chill?" he quirks a brow at you. Your lips form a smile.

"You're okay with this," you amend.

Ben shrugs and turns on the TV, trying to navigate the streaming apps. You’d put him on to Game of Thrones. Even three seasons into his binge-watching, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s hooked.

"You're fucking a real man now, sweetheart. No skin off my nose," he says.

It's your turn to roll your eyes, despite a warm blush stinging your cheeks.

But the next time you all go out together to a club in the city, Ben watches you leave his side to say hello to your friends: Annie, Hughie, Frenchie and Kimiko. Frenchie takes your hands and makes a show of looking you up and down.

"Well, well. She shoots to kill tonight, eh?" Frenchie says. When he leans in to kiss your cheek, he whispers, "Ah, black leather. My old favorite."

"Stop," you warn with a smile, hitting his shoulder. He's absolutely shameless. "You're too much."

"And you are just enough," Frenchie returns. He whistles playfully as he raises your hand to twirl you around, showing you off in your little black dress and red-bottom heels.

You laugh, but you bump into Ben when you twirl for the second time. Your laughter cuts off abruptly when you see the flinty look on his face, though he's clinging to stoicism.

Frenchie’s eyes widen as he seems to realize the very real danger he's put himself in. He wisely lets go of your hand, pivots on his heel and goes with Kimiko over to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, you move back to Ben's side and try to placate him by looping your arm through his. He responds by wrapping a strong arm around your waist. His eyes bore into the back of Frenchie's head so hard, you almost expect laser beams to come out of them.

"Come on, let's get a drink," you suggest, patting a hand on Ben's chest. He looks good tonight in a burgundy button-down shirt tucked into his slacks.

Ben wordlessly agrees to your suggestion, but he grabs a stool and drags it close to his own seat. He does help you by the hand onto the stool, but then his arm wraps back around your waist, pulling you in snugly, possessively to his side.

You try not to smile in amusement. It's a caveman's display, but at least you know the root cause this time.

...Okay, maybe you feel the tiniest bit complicit, but really, you think Ben's overreacting.

After he flags down the bartender and orders his bourbon and your martini, you tap against his bearded cheek, earning his green-eyed attention.

"You okay?" you ask knowingly.

"Just fine," he deadpans.

"Oh, well that's convincing," you say with a smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm here with you?"

Ben's gaze hardens. "I don't know. You were pretty happy to let that French whore put his fucking hands all over you—"

"All right. Calm down, Rambo," you say, trying not to laugh as you rub his arm. "Sorry, baby. That's just how we've always cut up. It doesn't mean anything."

Ben scoffs in derision. "Yeah? Fuck if I care."

You frown at that, sparking with annoyance. Somehow, now you actually do feel guilty. You and Frenchie have bounced off each other like Derek and Garcia for so long, you didn't even realize how it might look...or how it might make your boyfriend feel.

Because even with all that ego and injured pride, you have a feeling there's a real sting of hurt under there.

"Hey," you say, squeezing Ben's wrist. His gaze remains stubbornly on the bartender making your drinks.

You decide to take matters more firmly into your hands.

Reaching up for his chin, you guide Ben's face toward yours and press a kiss to his lips. It's slow at first, but it soon gains in passion. His teeth graze your bottom lip, before his tongue demands entrance into your mouth with claiming purpose.

It elicits a hint of a moan from you, your fingers clenching in his hair. Your nails drag against his scalp, almost making him shudder.

Your supple lips eventually pull away from his, nice and slow.

"Your hands are the only hands I care about touching me," you say. Your expression twinkles with mischief as you toy with the zipper on the side of your dress.

"As a matter of fact, I need your help," you add. "This zipper keeps catching on something. I think it's stuck."

Quite possibly because someone got a little handsy in the cab on the way here.

Ben smirks, though he claims your lips in one more slightly rough kiss before he answers.

"Well that is a problem," he says. His eyes roam down your face, taking in your thoroughly kissed lips, and the cleavage peeking out at him from the neckline of your dress.

"Think I can give you a hand," he says, as his actual hand slips down your leg. His fingers brush along the inside of your thigh, tingling across your skin. His half-lidded gaze once again meeting yours. "Better take you out back and fix you up."

You laugh, despite the return of your blush. You cling to his shoulders, while his fingers burn a tantalizing trail upwards.

"Oh, yeah. Save me, Soldier Boy!" you tease.

He snorts in response, but he helps guide you out of your seat.

Moments later, all your friends find at the bar are two forgotten drinks and a couple of empty stools.

AN: Ah, jealous Ben. It's fun to imagine. 😂

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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