#things always int he back of my head

[pocketramblr]

Well now i just want to read a fic where eraserhead and snipe are an assassin duo

so do iiiiiiii like come on. i think they'd be an amazing assassin duo. they're both ridiculous (one's a cowboy and ones a bounty hunter) they're both homeroom teachers, they both lie to other people about their quirks, i can totally see snipe being a cat person too (alt, hes a dog person and its their issue with the other). they should both also be assassins together

[bpmiranda]

It Could Be | l. howlett|

A/N: a lot of angst, a little fluffy, boxer!logan, sweet!reader, mentions of cheating, violence, protective!logan, mutual pining

The only place Logan could take his anger out was at the gym, in the boxing ring. There wasn’t anything that compared to the feeling of exhausting himself by plummeting something, whether it was another man or the punching bag, though for him it usually had to be the bag due to his advanced strength and adamantium lined bones. Logan was angry a lot until he met her.

Y/N had to be the closest thing to sunshine incarnate on earth. Her eyes so wide with genuine kindness and wonderment, her smile so sweet and comforting, the feeling of her smaller frame pressed against him when she greeted him with a tight hug. Logan ached for her in ways that he shouldn’t. One because he was no good for her, he knew that. She deserved someone that she could count on, that stuck around. And two because the guy she was with right now was a good friend. They had known each other for a few years now and Y/N was attached at his hip - loyal to a fault.

But Logan knew Adam wasn’t exactly who she needed either. Adam was always messing around behind her back, lying, forgetting important dates. They were a close knit trio, Logan considered them the people he was closest to in this lifetime, so he ended up caught in the middle a lot. Y/N tried not to make a habit out of seeking him out for comfort, but Logan always made himself so readily available to her. Much more than he bothered to do for Adam, though it didn’t often matter as his friend was usually consoling himself in the arms of other women.

That’s what made Logan mad these days. Having to see a buddy of his screwing around on whom Logan considered to be the most wonderful woman this earth had to offer. He couldn’t ever bring himself to get in the ring with Adam out of fear that he would kill him.

But today was different.

They had been arguing outside. Her eyes tear-filled and her lip pouting when she wasn’t pleading with him to see things from her perspective. “You’re embarrassing me, Adam!” Logan could hear her cry due to his heightened senses, he didn’t mean to, but he worried about her. “I hate having to hear from my friends that they see you out with her or some other girl. Don’t you see how much that hurts me? I love you, you idiot, and you’re ruining us!”

“Y/N, baby, I am not cheating on you. Your friends don’t even like me, they would say anything for you to be upset with me.” Adam argued and she gave him an unimpressed look. His hands pulled her into his chest by her shoulders and he wrapped her arms tightly around her as she defeatedly hugged him back. “I love you too, baby. I don’t want this to come between us. You gotta believe me.”

Unfortunately, she did, and it made Logan’s blood boil to watch them come in together, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as he told her to sit and wait on a bench in front of the ring. “Hey, Lo,” She greeted him with a hug and he held her tightly, kissing the top of her head and watching Adam head to the locker room to change. “Sorry you had to see that.” She said against his chest and he knew she was talking about the crying. Logan had mentioned once before, that one night, not too long ago, that he hated seeing her cry, especially over his dumbass friend which had made her stop crying long enough so she could laugh.

Logan loved to make her laugh.

“You okay?” He asked, pulling back and holding her at arm’s length to look at her. Y/N held onto his waist as she nodded, sniffling quietly as she forced a smile on her face. “Oh, baby.” He sighed, caressing her cheek with his palm and she smiled shyly.

“I’ll be okay,” She said, placing her hand over his and nodding. “He’s a good guy. Couples just fight sometimes.”

Logan hated the way he treated her and this time, when Adam tried to get him into the ring for a one versus one, he said yes.

“About time.” Adam had laughed, giving her a quick peck before he got into the boxing ring with Logan. With a nervous smile, she watched as her boyfriend and closest friend paced around each other slowly. Adam threw a few punches, grinning as Logan easily ducked his swings. “C’mon, Logan, don’t make it too easy for me.”

Suddenly, Logan swung hard and Adam lost his balance. Y/N let out a small gasp, her hand covered her mouth as she watched her boyfriend stumble and Logan looked over at her, a deep look of longing in his eyes that she couldn’t pretend not to notice. “Let’s go, A.” Logan smirked, turning back to his still surprised opponent. Adam chuckled dryly and he lunged at Logan who was quick to jump out of the way and he pushed him towards the ropes. “Don’t let me whoop your ass in front of your girl.” Logan’s words made her face warm up and she felt the tension building up between the two men. Adam was visibly annoyed and he ran at Logan with full intention of harming him only to be punched swiftly in the gut. Adam grunted painfully, hunching over and dropping to the floor.

“Logan!” Her voice called him and he looked at her. “Stop, you’re hurting him.”

Slowly, Adam stumbled back onto his feet and Logan smirked as he approached his friend to help him. “You alright?” He asked, offering him a hand which Adam pushed away.

“The hell are you playing at?” He demanded, shoving Logan away whose nose flared angrily.

“Don’t fucking shove me.” Logan said in a warning tone only for to Adam shove him again. Logan chuckled and then swung quickly, clocking him square in the jaw and Y/N gasped loudly, her hands on her stomach as she watched the two friends fight. “Told you.”

Logan watched as Y/N hurried into the ring and he sighed as she ducked down to look into Adam’s face. “Come on, let me get you cleaned up.” She said, looking over at Logan who shrugged lightly as she helped Adam through the ropes and guided him to the men’s locker room. Logan removed his gloves, smiling to himself as he packed them and pulled on a grey hoodie. He definitely didn’t feel angry anymore.

Not long after, Y/N came back out with her arms crossed over her middle and she shook her head at Logan who was waiting for her, leaning against a beam and smiling at her. “He alright?” He asked as she stopped and stood a few feet from him. She only nodded. Logan sighed and scratched the back of his neck as he glanced briefly at the ground and then back into her pretty eyes. “He’s been asking for it.” He explained and she gave him a look that told him she wasn’t buying it. “A one on one, you know?”

“That’s not why you beat him up like that.” She said matter-of-factly and Logan couldn’t help the smirk on his face that gave him away. “Logan,” She took a calculated step towards him, looking down at her shoes as she did and then back up at him. They were closer now, just one wrong move away from being caught in a predicament. “We’ve talked about this.” Logan casually leaned an arm on the beam as he stared down at her with those same soft green eyes that reeled her in that one night, not too long ago. “We’re friends, you and I, and while I appreciate how much you care about me, I just-I can’t.”

While he heard her, understood that she was drawing a boundary, he still smiled because he simply couldn’t help but feel joy in her presence. With her around, he was always calm and he felt confident. “I’d treat you better.” He said, almost promising her.

Her hand came up to his abdomen where she lightly bumped him with her fist and he pretended to get the wind knocked out of him, hunching forward slightly which made her giggle as she shook her head. “It’s just not that easy.”

Logan knew she and Adam had a history, he knew she was loyal, not the type to run around on her man, so his chances were low. It didn’t stop him from trying, however. With his other hand, he caught hers before it fell back to her side and he gently pulled her into him, closing the space between them so she had to bring her arm up and rest it on his chest, a failed attempt to distance herself from her boyfriend’s best friend. Her cheeks grew warm as he caressed her hand with his thumb down by their sides and the one still leaning on the beam balled into a fist to keep himself from kissing her like he did that one night, not too long ago. “It could be.”

🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊

Been having some thoughts about boxer!logan😌

It Could Be II

It Could Be III

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12

[moonstruckme]

HI MAE!!! HAPPY 7k 🩷🩷

can i please do a blueberry muffin from your bake sale??? I always wanted a part two to your drabble for the emt!marauders with a reader who gets vertigo. I still for the comfort of how it'll be the car ride to the hospital with the boys comforting the reader just like int he first part. the drabble ended too soon 🫶🏻

nevertheless, you totally degree this milestone!!!

Thank you lovely!

part 1

cw: severe dizziness, mention of vomiting

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 497 words

You’ve decided not to make any more sounds. Your moaning and groaning was only worrying the boys, and if you can’t control anything else you can control that. Still, as slow as Remus tries to make the next turn, you can’t help your soft intake of air. Your head keeps turning long after the car has straightened out. 

“I know,” Sirius murmurs in reply to your little gasp. His voice is weighed down with sympathy. 

You’ve figured out that the cold of his hands helps, so he keeps pressing them to your forehead, your temples, your neck. On your other side, James is doing his best to keep you from moving with his arm around your shoulders. You’re holding your neck ramrod straight for the same purpose. You can feel the stitching of the seats where your fingers are pressed harshly to them, though in your vision the car is only a smear of gray interior and a deep blue out the windows. You guess by the color that it must be early morning. 

“I’ve got a bag,” James reminds you. “Let me know if you think you need it, yeah?” 

Your answering hum is wobbly. Sirius moves his hands to your cheeks. 

“Are you feeling any better, sweetheart?” Remus asks. You can picture him looking into the rear view mirror, and you and then at the other boys. You wonder what faces they’re making in silent answer. “Can you see at all?” 

“A little bit,” you lie. 

Sirius makes a soft sound, low in his throat. He strokes his thumb over your cheekbone. “Don’t downplay it for us,” he chides, about ten degrees gentler than his usual admonishments. “We can’t help you as well if we don’t know how bad it is, baby.” 

You press your lips together, hard, clamping them between your teeth, but you’re sure your boyfriends can see the tears you’re holding back regardless. James kisses your hair. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “We can talk about all that when we get there, yeah? You’re alright.” 

A quiet whimper slips out of you, two tears blinking out of your eyes one after the other. 

“You are, angel.” James seems desperate to reassure you. Sirius’ hands move to press over your collarbones, firm and grounding. “You’re okay. We’re gonna make it better, my love.” 

“Once we’re there, we’ll try not to move you around hardly at all, dove, alright?” Remus chimes in. “We’ll get you settled and checked out, and the worst thing that can happen is you end up sitting still and waiting this out. No more driving or walking or anything like that until you’re feeling better.” 

“Okay,” you manage to squeak out in reply. 

“Oh, my sweetheart.” James sounds nearly on the brink of tears himself, and you think you feel Sirius reach across you to rub his leg even as they’re both comforting you. 

“I know.” Sirius kisses your temple. “I know, baby. We’ve got you.” 

That, you can believe in.

[cevansbrat0007]

A Friend in the Dark: Part I

Summary: Ari receives an unexpected call from you in the middle of the night. Takes place directly after the events in The Do-Over.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Sexual Fantasies, Allusions to Oral Sex, References to Home Invasion, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner, who helped me come up with the opening. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari runs an agitated hand through his already tousled brown locks before tossing a stack of documents on his desk. Leaning back in his seat, he finds himself wondering why he was somehow always the one who always ended up drowning in a sea of never-ending paperwork. 

At this rate he was never going to make it home. The last thing he wanted to do was spend another night sleeping on the couch in his office. Unfortunately, it was quickly beginning to look like his only option. Of their own violation, his tired eyes stray towards the desk drawer that holds all the takeout menus. 

Maybe he’d try that new Mexican joint over on Madison – the one that claimed to have the best tamales in town. It was a bold claim to be sure. But it was definitely worth investigating if only so he could– 

A sudden knock at his door jolts Ari out of his thoughts. How strange. Buck, Pixie, and the rest of the gang had left hours ago. And he was sure they’d closed up on their way out, which meant that he should’ve been alone. 

The knock sounds again, this time a little more insistent. Next thing he knows, the door slowly begins to swing open to reveal…

You.

The woman he’d left behind months ago. Far away, in the little rinky-dink town of Bell’s Creek. Or so he’d thought. But now here you were. Standing there looking like you’d just stepped off a runway, wearing a black, off-the-shoulder mini-dress that hugged your curves just right.  

Stunned into silence, all Ari can do is continue to gape at you. His mind races as you step into his office, a million burning questions hitting him all at once. 

What brought you here? How did you find him? Was everything okay? 

“You’re a hard man to track down, Mr. Levinson.” You purr before taking a seat on the edge of his desk. Unable to help himself, his eyes stray to the hem of your dress as it rides up, giving him a glimpse of your deliciously thick thighs. 

“Why are you here?” He stammers, his mouth going dry when you invitingly cross your legs.

And now he knew that you weren’t wearing any panties.

You offer him a delicate shrug. “I tried to stay away, I really did.” Stretching your legs, you draw his attention to your stiletto clad feet. “But it was just too hard.” 

Ari had never considered himself to be the type of man who was into feet, but that never stopped him from admiring your perfectly painted toes. Tonight they were a shiny, deep red that matched your manicure. 

“Look, Duchess…I–”

“Tell me you didn’t miss me.” Reaching over, you use two fingers to tilt his bearded chin. “That you haven’t thought about me since you left Bell’s Creek.”

“Every damn day.” He admits hoarsely. “But we can’t–”

“We can.” You softly interrupt, before sliding off his desk and sinking to your knees, forcing the bounty hunter to move his chair to allow you space. “I’ll show you. Give you a taste of how good it’ll feel to have me the way you’ve always craved.”

Ari’s pulse kicks up the moment he feels you rest your soft hands come to rest on either of his thighs. Meanwhile, his already impossibly hard cock is busy straining in his jeans, desperately seeking relief. His head tips back as he waits for you to do something – anything – before he resorts to embarrassing himself by begging. 

“Did you really think I didn’t know how bad you wanted me?” You lightly drag your nails over his impressive bulge, delighting in the way he shivers at your touch. “You wanted me from the moment I walked into that church.” You allow your hands to rove higher so that you’re now gently gripping his belt. 

“Yes.” His breathing is shallow and labored.

“But it wasn’t until you found me at my shop that day, when you got angry at the thought of me sleeping with Martin, that you decided you wanted to fuck me.” You slowly begin undoing the clasp. “Isn’t that right, Detective Levinson?”

“Y-yes.” Ari rasps, licking his dry lips. He groans low in his throat when you wrap a hand around his girth, freeing him from the confines of his pants. 

“How many times have you imagined this?” The question comes out both sweet and silky. “How many times have you lain awake at night fantasizing about what I'd sound like when I’m choking on your thick cock?”

“Shit, baby!” He hisses as you begin stroking him up and down, working him with each sensual flick of your wrist. “Every fuckin’ night – gah!” 

“Wanna know a secret?” You ask at the same time as your mouth slowly starts to descend, heading in the direction of his aching member. “I’ve been dying to taste you too.” You pause, stopping just short of taking the plump mushroom head between your lips. 

“I can’t wait to find out if you’re salty…or sweet.” Ari’s hips buck when you finally take him into your mouth, greedily sucking him down as if you’d done it a hundred times. Of its own accord, a large hand fists itself in your curls, forcing your head down and making you gag as you struggle to take more of him. 

“That’s it, Duchess. Don’t fuckin’ stop. Don’t…don’t…don’t…”

Ari’s House – 3:00am

Ari suddenly shoots straight up in bed, blinking rapidly as his bleary eyes work to adjust to the darkness of his bedroom. He scrubs a weary hand over his beard before vaulting himself out of bed and heading towards the bathroom. 

Without flipping the light, he immediately turns on the tap, splashing his face with water. He’s annoyed by the fact that you’d managed to find your way into his dreams yet again. As if it wasn’t enough that you already seemed to plague his every other waking thought, now he also had to worry about you disturbing him in his sleep. 

Although it had been days since you’d last spoken with each other, that hadn’t stopped him from keeping tabs on you. While he tried to tell himself he was just doing his due diligence, deep down he knew there was a little more to it. In his mind, there was nothing better than watching your hips sway as you unknowingly went about your day.

Especially when you were wearing those leopard print leggings you seemed so fond of, or better yet, a pair of denim shorts that perfectly hugged your ass. Sure, he was a fool. But some days he was beyond caring. He’d long since decided that you were the only good thing about this dingy little town anyway.

Ari flops back down on the bed with a disgruntled sigh. He had a feeling that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight, even if he could somehow convince his stubborn dick to cooperate. As he lays there, he finds himself wishing he would’ve gotten a chance to speak with you at the church potluck the other week.

At the time he’d been besieged by the townsfolk – mostly women – all of whom had demanded his attention. Meanwhile, you’d been content to stay huddled in the corner, picking at the food on your plate in a way that almost reminded him of a little bird. 

Closing his eyes, he wills his body to relax in hopes of reclaiming at least some of his inner peace. Only to jump when he hears his phone begin to ring from its place on his nightstand. 

Who the fuck was calling him at this hour?

Frowning when he doesn’t immediately recognize the phone number, he briefly hesitates before answering.

“Hello?” The greeting comes out a little gruffer than he intends.

“Ari?”

His world suddenly grinds to a screeching halt. Because while he doesn’t recognize the number, definitely knows the voice. 

He’d know your voice anywhere.

“Ari…are you there?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart. I–I’m here.” He gives a quick shake of his head as he attempts to get his mind to connect with his ears. “You okay?”

“I’m so sorry for calling so late. I really am, but…” There’s no missing the distinct hitch in your throat, even as you try to keep your voice low. “I think someone…” He listens as you trail off, most likely to try and collect yourself.

“You think someone is what?”

“I think someone is outside my house. I–I think they’re tryin’ to get in.” 

It’s at that moment when Ari feels all breath literally leave his body. Mostly because it was the last thing he expected you to say. Regardless, seconds later he’s on his feet, hastily throwing on his clothes.

“Where are you now?” His tone is short and clipped as he goes about collecting his things. 

“I’m locked in my room.” You whisper while struggling to keep the tears at bay. “I ran when I heard them scratching at the backdoor.”

“Good girl.” He grunts before putting the phone on speaker so that he can begin lacing up his boots. “You got somethin’ to protect yourself until I get there?” 

“I have a bat.” You supply helpfully, even as you huddle on the floor by your bed. 

“Baby, I meant more like a gun.” 

“Um, no. No.” You inwardly curse yourself for being so afraid of those damned things. Your uncle used to own one, but you’d foolishly gotten rid of it after he passed. ”I–I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Ari speeds down the stairs, taking them two at a time as he holds the phone to his ear. “I want you to stay right where you are, okay? Gimme your address.”

“Okay.” Your fear is so palpable, it’s almost paralyzing. But you at least have enough sense to remember where you lived. Thank goodness for that.

“Good girl.” Grabbing his car keys off his kitchen counter, the bounty hunter makes it out of his house and into his truck in record time. “I’m on my way. You call this into the station yet?” He asks, double-checking that his preferred gun is still in his glove compartment. 

“N–no. Because what if I’m wrong and–”

“But baby, what if you’re right?” He swiftly interrupts as his vehicle’s engine roars to life. “Look, I’m gonna hang up with you and call this in.”

“Please don’t go!” You cry, before slapping a hand over your mouth. 

“I swear I’m gonna call you right back. Right fuckin’ back, okay?” God, he hated to leave you – even for a second. But this was something that had to be done. “You have my word.”

“O–okay.” Is all you can muster as you clutch your baseball bat tighter to your just. “But please hurry.”

“I’m comin’.” He assures you as he backs out of his driveway, pulling onto the street. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. And don’t you dare open up that door for anyone but me. You hear?”

“Yeah.”

“Good girl.” The bounty hunter praises once more. “Just try and stay calm for me. I’ll be there soon.” 

Gritting his teeth, he ends the call before dialing the one cop he knew would be on duty tonight – Officer Milton. Knowing time is of the essence, he hurriedly relays the info to the one man before hanging up and phoning you back. 

Except you don’t answer. In fact, it goes straight to voicemail. When the same thing happens a second time, Ari gives up in favor of concentrating on the road. He’d be to you soon. And whoever was responsible had better hope that the police beat him to the punch. 

Otherwise the fine officers of Bell’s Creek would have a dead man on their hands. 

END PART ONE  

Official Tag List

@katymae12344

@identity2212

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@blackhawkfanatic

@jamneuromain

@queerqueenlynn

@pono-pura-vida

@daykrisr999

@ninacutebee16

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@emerald-writes

@gh0stgurl

@blogbog710

@sincerelytlh

@gummydummy19

@steviebbboi

[tempting-andromeda]

Fuck it writing for rdr2 now

Nsfw headcanons

Warning: smut, knife play, somnophilia, power dynamic, spanking, hair pulling, bruises.

Characters

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Charles Smith, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy,Micah Bell, and Eagle Flies.

Arthur Morgan

He likes for sex to be intimate but he gets a rise out of things escalating. Like you two are in bed about to sleep but like 20 minutes later your legs are over his shoulders and he’s shushing you to stay quite.

He doesn’t force moments between you two he likes when it’s natural.

He laughs softly at you if you get too eager for him. He teases you and degrades you for it softly like “Really? This desperate for me? Guess I gotta give you a good time don’t I, Girl/boy.”

He likes to hear you talk during it even if it's just jumbled moans. He'll ask you questions like “That feel good?” and he likes a response but he doesn't force it (unless he's being rough then he'll stop moving and make you reply)

Sex is personal for him so he likes to make you feel good and sometimes he completely forgets about himself.

John Marston

He likes being in control but simultaneously he likes when you’re in control as well. He’s a complicated man.

He’s so fucking eager. Sometimes he forgets about foreplay but once he remembers he focuses on making you finish until you’re barely able to take him.

He’s real into dirty talk. He simply cannot shut up. He’s between your legs describing how you taste.

He has a high sex drive yet he cums quickly. He goes multiple rounds to make up for it though.

He’s so sensitive. He tries to pretend he’s not but after a while he starts begging you to bite his neck or use your mouth on him.

Dutch Van Der Linde

He likes a power dynamic. He likes being dominant and he doesn’t like that changing. If you try to top or be dominant he sees it as a challenge.

He’s into humiliating you but he doesn’t like bringing it out of the bedroom. He likes seeing you on your knees as he sits in a chair and he likes making you beg to suck him off.

He likes brats. He’s into the challenge and he likes making them submissive. It’s a huge thing for him if you act all bratty.

He likes to lightly smack you but doesn’t actually apply pressure unless he’s spanking you. Like if you back talk or something he grabs your face and uses a stern voice and after you say “yes sir” he lightly taps your face.

Really likes to stand back and admire you after he’s done with you. Looking at your panting frame and fucked out face. It makes him so proud. If he could he’d have a picture of it.

Charles Smith

He’s super into passionate slow sex. Pressing his forehead against your chest as he praises you but sometimes he can’t seem to hold himself back and he fucks like his life depends on it.

Like he’ll have your legs spread in a nearly humiliating way but he’s complimenting you the whole time, praising your very existence.

He likes when you wrap your legs around his waist. It makes him feel like you’re desperate for him as well and it drives him crazy.

He’s a munch. No doubt about it. Sometimes it’s the only thing he wants to do. He’ll lay in between your thighs like he’s starved.

Having sex with Charles is like experiencing a Hozier song first hand. At the end of every night with him you have absolutely no doubt he worships you.

Javier Escuella

He’s into knife play but he’s not entirely into drawing blood. He’s into cutting your clothes off of you. Like completely ignoring the buttons on your shirt and instead just running his blade along the buttons, snapping them off.

He’s real into hair pulling both ways. He likes fucking you from behind to pull your head back so he can kiss you and he likes when you pull his hair in missionary.

Possessive. No doubt about it. I feel it in my bones. He always asks you who you belong to before you cum and he gets a huge rise out of it. He makes your scream out his name at least once every time y’all have set.

He’s super into quickies. He likes to pull you away for a bit and absolutely destroy you and then go back to what you were doing and watch you struggle to pretend like nothing happened. It’s a huge turn on for himz

He likes to cum on you instead of in you. He’ll finish in your chest, back, stomach, face. He’s so into it. He likes knowing you’re a mess for him and you’re allowing him to do this to you.

Sean MacGuire

He’s huge on praise. He needs you to tell him he’s big and that no one makes you feel this way. It drives him crazy.

He’s super messy when he fucks. There’s something about it that makes him feel prideful that you’re a mess and he’s a mess.

He likes to humiliate you but in a different way from Dutch. Dutch does it for the power dynamic and he does it just because he likes the idea that he’s the only one allowed to do this to you.

He’s a head pusher but he always makes it up to you afterwards by making you pull his hair when he goes down on you.

He likes having sex in semi public places. It fills him with such adrenaline he’s trying to go again afterward.

Lenny Summers

Hes into handjobs. More than anything. If you put your hands in his pants he’s nearly crumbling that instant.

He likes when you go down on him randomly. Like he’s reading a book and suddenly he’s getting head or waking up to head? It’s so attractive to him.

He knows what you like and what you don’t like and his fingers are magical. Sometimes he tries to multitask and do something else while he fingers you but he ends up giving in and giving you all of his attention.

He’s real nervous at the idea of people catching you two so he just whispers a lot of praise in your ear. He feels horrible degrading you but he tries.

He moans at everything. Like if he goes down on you, he’s moaning the whole time. If he’s touching you he’s still moaning. It’s just attractive to know he’s doing something that arousing to you.

Kieran Duffy

He likes when you tell him what to do. He’s real clumsy most of the time and if you lead his hands and body and tell him what to do he’s determined not to fail.

His dirty talk is mostly him asking for reassurance like “am I doin’ good?” Or it’s just him worshiping you.

He whimpers and whines so easily it’s like he’s getting fucked. (Or he is) he gets real embarrassed afterwards but he doesn’t try to stop

He begs to touch you even if you’re not holding him back or telling him he can’t. His hands could even be on you and he’s begging to touch you.

He moans so loud when he cums. He always tries to cover his mouth to muffle it or he buried his face into you to prevent anyone from hearing.

Micah Bell

He’s rough. Real rough. A night with him probably ends with a few bruises and a sore body and he’s real smug about it too.

He likes watching you pleasure yourself. Sometimes he’ll touch himself as you do so and after you both finish he won’t touch you.

He loves edging you. Sometimes he pulls away right before your climax and wait for you to beg. Once he got up and nearly left just to see your reaction.

He likes shoving your face into the pillow as he fucks you from behind. It makes him feel dominant and like he’s in control.

His praise is really rare so he saves it for a special moment. He’ll have you hanging off the side of the bed as he bellows your back out and he makes sure you hear him when he speaks, grabbing you by the back of the neck just to whisper something like “look so pretty from back here, slut.”

Eagle Flies

Experimentalist to the core. He wants to try everything at least once. He thinks it’s a huge trust thing to experiment with intimacy.

He likes showing off his strength and stamina so he likes to lift you up to fuck you. He can last so many rounds too so by the end both of you are panting and tired.

He says “I love you” during sex. He feels so intimate to say it and he likes to make eye contact as he does it. He knows it’s cheesy but he likes to say “I love you” while he finishes

He likes to talk about your sexual fantasies and tries to recreate them as best as he can. He feels like he has to prove that he’s better than some fantasy and he never fails.

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: slasher! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: mdni, dark themes, mention of drug use and cheating, stalking, obsession, König’s pov

A/n: it’s a prequel to my Fuck or Die fic, so go check it out<3 Will this be the beginning of psychotic yan! König series?? Maybe🤭

Crouched in uncomfortable position, fabric on his knees was damp from wet soil on which König was kneeling, mosquitos buzzing all over his head, all eager to drink of his warm blood - but he didn’t budge, staying still like a panther observing its next prey. Soft rustling filled König’s ears, warm breeze ruffling up the leaves of dense shrubbery among which man sat, completely concealing his bulky form.

König’s mouth filled with saliva, dilated pupils concealed the icy blue of his eyes, making them look pitch black. He swallowed hard, exhaling as slowly as he could through his nose, a spark of excitement settling somewhere deep within his stomach, watching unblinkingly through thick lenses of his binoculars two bodies swirling together.

In a building about three hundred meters afar all widows were free from curtains, revealing the insides of the house. With thumping heart König watched guy’s hands slip down Y/n’s sides, caressing sweet indent of her waist, down to soft hips and lower, finally resting on two hemispheres of girl’s plump ass. He noted how her back arched ever so slightly, pushing further into her boyfriend’s chest, hot mouthes connecting in a sloppy kiss, bright blush dusting Y/n’s soft cheeks and pointy tips of her ears.

Breaking apart shortly after, König’s sharp eyes watched guy’s lips move. “I love you” he said and König couldn’t help but snort in amusement, memories from only few hours earlier were still fresh in his head - how that motherfucker offered to give that cute cheerleader girl from his class a ride home, pulling up in an empty parking lot, not even ten minutes later his car was shaking from side to side. Still, Y/n smiled softly at his words, making König’s jaw clench. He could do so much better.

König didn’t expect much from you at first. Truth be told - it wasn’t you who caught his attention, but your boyfriend, especially where he lived. A huge house on the outskirts - closest neighbouring cottages were at best one kilometre away, making this place a perfect target for König’s next outing. So he came to studying its inhabitants more closely - a family of three - couple in their fifties and their only son. How better can it possibly get?

So König entered his usual routine - first and most important step was to learn more about his future victims, their routines and people they were close with. It was very easy with parents - an average boring life consisting of work, household and a dinner at local restaurant every Saturday. But slasher couldn’t say the same about their child.

From the very first hours König felt deep disdain for that guy. Everything about him just felt fake. A perfect son and excellent boyfriend, captain of local football team, goody two shoes who has never done anything wrong in his whole life - everyone’s golden boy, all bright smiles and promising future. The exact same one who snorted cocaine in stale bathrooms of gas stations, hands too shaky and mind too numb from withdrawal to actually process his surroundings; the one who, stoned out of his head, gladly threw himself in embrace of other women, hardly remembering sweet face of his girlfriend.

Oh, his girlfriend. Y/n - a sweet and lovely little thing, all butterflies and unicorns, never once failing to hold König’s full attention without slightest intention of doing so.

Watching Y/n has always been way more fun and exciting for him. König guessed it had something to do with her demeanour - so drastically different from his own, that attracted him so much. How bubbly and vibrant you were, making everything around you play with new colours, just like a little ray of sunshine - something König has never been.

Oftentimes slasher caught himself listening intently to you going over newest gossip with your best friend over the phone (wiretapping is way easier than one may think), your sweet voice filling his ears like honey, soothing his raging thoughts buzzing within his skull, clinging to every smallest word you said. It didn’t take much time for König to find your socials as well, spending way much longer than he should studying your pictures, breathing becoming shallow and his dick twitching at the sight of your puffy lips, often imagining how they’d look like wrapper around his shaft.

What König took special liking of was to watch your nightly routine. It was a stable and never changing chain of events - hot shower, skincare, rubbing moisturiser into your feet, shins and hands, and then finally tucking yourself comfortably in soft bed. It was nothing special, yet König craved to be a part of it. Craved to be the one applying whatever shit that was on your pretty face, to massage good-smelling mixtures onto your cheeks

Back to reality, König watched both Y/n and that little boyfriend of hers settling down in the couch, starting some soap opera on big TV screen.

Maybe now? König’s whole body froze at sudden thought. He swallowed hard once again, his mind racing, adrenaline burning through his veins at the intensity of this idea alone. Guy’s parents were out of town, meaning that him and Y/n were all alone in the house. König glanced at the black sport bag lying right next to him on damp ground, electricity tingling his fingertips - he had all necessary stuff packed with him, just go for it.

Slasher gazed through binoculars once again, blue eyes fixating upon you two cuddled up on the couch, man’s mind now filling with all the possible things he could do to the motherfucker, sight of him holding you so gently making König’s blood boil.

Reaching over to his bag murderer opened it, pulling out his mask and checking if voice changer was working still. All of König’s thoughts dissipating into nothingness the moment soft fabric of under mask touched the skin of his cheeks, leaving place for only one thing:

Soon she will be mine

[swee7dream]

hi vixy! i miss you sm 😞🫶 being here is just not the same when i'm not interacting w/ you (ノ_＜。) and im here in your inbox for a request!

remember when i always gush about your use of endearments? atm, im craving for a hc fic of 7dreamies using their favorite endearment/petname/nickname for reader >< i absolutely think that they have their own ways and the oddest yet the most endearing nicknames for their special ppl and i think about it everytime i read your fics bcuz there is that kind of spice of it in your works (*^-^) and i love it ^^

i hope you're doing well, love! have a great day (人´ｴ`*)♪

xoxo, wynnie.

7dream's nicknames for their partners nct dream x f!reader

genres fluff, established relationship warnings feminine pet names used, quasi-suggestive but not really ( renjun ) author's note omg not the love letter in my inbox !!! love u 5ever wynnie . sorry the bulletpoints are kinda short, i tried to make up for it in the mini-fics ! ty for the request + i hope u like it !

mark lee (ᓀ‸ᓂ)

a very simple, casual guy

babe, dude (romantically), my girl

he can’t even tease you when you tell him it gives you butterflies because he’s the exact same way, giggling into his hand and turning away to hide his silly grin from you

call him dude though? he’ll be sulky until the next day (as if, he melts into a puddle with just one kiss)

“dude,” mark calls out from the hallway, still unsure where everything is still, being your first sleepover. “have you seen my charger? i don’t know where i left it.” “i dunno, man. you should ask your girlfriend.” “wow…” he extends the word in between laughter. he shuffles in his slides back into the bedroom, doubling over your body laying comfortably under sheets. “you are my girlfriend.” “nuh-uh. i’m your dude. your bro. your homeslice.” you over-emphasize the last word, flicking your tongue like a snake. “more like my homewife.” he giggles, reaching up to peck your lips. “that was terrible.” “come on! that’s worth at least half a point.” “negative eight thousand points.”

huang renjun ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა

my love, darling, sweetheart

in my heart of hearts i view huang renjun as the definition of a romantic

maybe he won’t have diamond necklaces for you every date night, but he always makes sure to show his love in the small, important things

he has your favorite snack for when you get home, changes the bedsheets when you forget to, and refills the soap bottles in the bathroom before you even notice you’re running low

“you took care of the dishes.” renjun jumps in his seat, not even hearing when you came in. “i did.” he turns from his canvas to look at you, smiling as you’re already wrapping your arms around his waist. “how was your day, my love?” “exhausting. you are the sexiest man alive, you know that?” you mumble into his hair. “for washing dishes?” “so hot.” you nod, squeezing him tighter. “gee, thanks,” he chuckles, reaching a hand up to scratch your head. “how about a bath? wash away all that exhaustion.” “join me?” you pout. “of course, darling.”

lee jeno ૮ .◜◡◝ა

doll, baby, babydoll

you are a living, breathing doll to him and everyone needs to know!!!!!

he forgets he’s literally mr. ferragamo sometimes and just stares at you with super heart eyes like:

wow (ෆ人ෆ) that’s my baby

“what about this one?” you spin in to give jeno a 360. “i really liked it in the store but i’m not so sure about it now.” “you’re the prettiest girl ever, doll.” jeno sits with his legs spread, his hands in the middle holding the edge of the chair he sits on. “pretty, pretty, pretty.” “thank you, jen.” you look at him. “but i’m asking about the clothes. i don’t know if this shade suits me! or maybe it’s the texture of the clothes? actually, it might be the material.” “everything suits you. if it doesn’t, it’s because the designer was stupid. you’re the pinnacle of fashion, babydoll.” “you’re silly.” you giggle, walking toward him to dig your fingers into the back of his hair. “you don’t think i should return it?” “absolutely not. you look great in red, baby.” “this is white, jen.” “whatever. gimme a kiss.”

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ

baby, sunshine, sweetheart (derogatory)

outsiders looking in eavesdropping on your conversations don’t know if you’re about to bite each other heads off or make out against the wall

what else could you expect from haechan ‘dating is so boring, let's be best friend and act like in a relationship’ lee

you feel a dark energy looming over your shoulder, as you often have since saying yes to your first date with hyuck. you continue to feel it as your card taps on the reader, beeping happily at the successful payment, unaware of the incoming chaos. “oh heck yeah! thanks for the food, sis!” haechan’s hand sneaks around to hold the back of your head, pulling you into a deep kiss. he only squeals like an anime girl as your hands slide up to push him away and turn to the cashier, apologizing profusely and failing to convince them that you’re not, in fact, related. “thanks for treating me, sweetheart.” “hey siri, search shooting ranges near me.” “wait, baby no-”

na jaemin ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

lovey, princess, my muse

fun fact: he loves being called prince. having matchy matchy names makes his heart full and gives his life purpose (his words)

i put those three down but honestly, it really depends on the day. he’s constantly making new ones every single hour

he sees you in the flowers growing in the cracks in the sidewalk (‘petal’), in the songs of the birds outside (‘birdy’), in that one painting he saw back in a museum in italy (‘angel’)

“oh wait, i like these!” you swipe through some candid photos jaemin took of you of a trip you two took a while back on his phone. “how come you didn’t send me these?” “if i sent you every picture i took of you you would think i’m a crazed stalker.” “i know you are and i still love you.” you smile at him before turning back to the phone screen. “urgh. you’re always changing my name in your contacts. what is it now?” “munchy.” “munchy?” you stare at him with your eyes furrowed, having turned in slow motion as if you heard him wrong. “that was the name of one of the tortoises we saw at the zoo. he was so cute. it reminded me of you when you eat pasta. so you’re munchy.” “…okay, jaem. thanks, i think.”

zhong chenle (ᯟ︿ᯏ)

babe, dollface, beautiful

surprisingly, not a big petname user. not at first at least

but one time he clocked you getting pouty and in your head and learned that you liked being called sweet things other than your name.

“what’s wrong with your name? i like your name, dollface.” you can see something switch inside of his mind. “mmm, okay. i’ll try.”

“i miss you…” even through the phone, chenle can’t help but smile at your voice. “please don’t die.” “i’m at the grocery store for ice cream you asked for, dollface. i’m not gonna die.” “what if you get hit by a car?” you sniffle, hormones overwhelming you. “i’ll survive.” “how do you know?” “i just do. you should know by now i’m superman, babe.” “fly home, le. wanna cuddle.” “don’t threaten me with a good time.” he chuckles, phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder as he places your ice cream—and a couple other things he thought you might appreciate—on the counter to be rung up. “stay put, beautiful. i’m coming.”

park jisung (∩˃o˂∩)

babe, dude, pretty (used EXCLUSIVELY behind closed doors)

bro gets embarrassed just breathing air, you think he’s gonna have the guts to be cheesy with you in public?

even calling you babe in public has him with his voice lowered.

it’s really counteractive considering being so shy about things brings only more attention to him from his friends

“could you pass me my phone?” jisung’s request flies over your head as the group conversation is alive and well around you. “babe,” he mutters, finally getting your attention. “can you pass me my phone?” in good 7dream fashion, all the boys ‘ooh’ at him, haechan and mark fangirling obnoxiously. “baby darling sugarplum angelface!” donghyuck mocks, laughing at jisung holding his head in his hands, being consoled by your rubbing his back. “could you pass me my phone, my darling sweetheart pookiebear cupcake?”

author's note i fear i'm running out of themes for fic headers !!!!! why was i not blessed with the moodboard bone all my other lovely mutuals have D:

[soobszzn]

distant affection

synopsis: doing everyday tasks wasn’t a hassle when jungkook was with you - even if that meant you were miles apart.

pairing: ldr!jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, established + long distance relationship

content/warnings: long distance relationship and all things associated, mentions of food, jungkook is still an idol, brief (lol) mention of jungkook and his sexy calvin klein endorsement, use of “my love” in a teasing (& affectionate) context

wc: 1.8k

a/n: sorry this is so late!!! love u, S🌸

-

you knew navigating a long distance relationship with the jeon jungkook would have its ups and downs. obviously, the time difference messed with you both. one person would be asleep when the other was awake, and even if you were awake at the same time, one of you would usually have to attend to other things.

the both of you made it work, though. you’d send each other pictures throughout the day and squeeze in video calls wherever you could. you’d mail each other gifts when you couldn’t be together for special occasions. when jungkook had a couple days off, you’d use it to have long movie dates online in which he would usually fall asleep first. but you didn’t mind.

during his longer breaks, he’d always make it a point to come visit you. the two of you would go sight-seeing in your own city or take a short trip to the next town over. you loved doing anything and everything with him, but the most enjoyable moments were in the mundane. you loved moments where you’d scroll on your phones together on the couch or tease each other while you brushed your teeth before bed.

saying goodbye was always the hardest. there wasn’t anything that could really make missing him hurt less. but while helping him pack during his last visit, you took advantage of when he snuck off to the bathroom and stole a hoodie out of his suitcase. you’d hoped he hadn’t noticed.

munching on your midday meal, you scrolled on your phone before getting a video call from your boyfriend. it was a welcome surprise, so you answered right away.

“hey! what are you doing awake right now? isn’t it like five in the morning?” his phone was looking at the ceiling and you heard music playing in the background. colorful lights speckled his ceiling, and you knew he was again enjoying the galaxy light projector you gifted him last christmas.

“i have a free day tomorrow! and i really wanted to talk to you!” he yelled, indicating he was far from his phone.

you smiled to yourself, appreciating your boyfriend and his sweet gesture. you guessed that with how busy he was recently, he’d be dead tired by the time he came home. but, the fact that you were the first thing on his mind made your heart leap. you then heard the faint music in the background cease, and watched as jungkook propped his phone up, front camera now facing him.

he was leaning on his kitchen counter, sleeve tattoo fully on display. his hair was long and fluffy, his bangs reaching his eyes. you could tell he was tired, but nothing could hide how handsome he was.

you noticed him stare intently into the phone screen. “what are you staring at?” you questioned with a laugh.

“you’re eating lunch right now, right? i’m hungry! let’s eat together!” he said excitedly. jungkook then adjusted his phone so that you had the perfect view of him busy at his stove. you watched as he began tossing things into his pan. you chuckled softly.

“what are you cooking?” you asked curiously, your head now resting in your hand.

“i’m just throwing stuff together, see?” he answered, now panning his phone to what looked like fried rice.

you giggled, now panning your phone to the makeshift fried rice you made for yourself just earlier. the two of you erupted into laughter.

“pretend i made that for you, okay?” you teased, setting your phone back down and taking another bite.

as jungkook finished preparing his meal, you asked him about his schedule for the day. he complained that he had a lot to do in the upcoming days because he had an international schedule set for next week.

“are you sure that’s not just code for coming to visit me?” you half-joked. you knew he was currently busy with solo activities, and it hadn’t been too long since he last visited. but there was always a small part of you that hoped any time he left korea, it was because he was on his way to you.

eventually, he ended up at his kitchen table, phone propped up as if you were sitting across from each other. after taking his first bite, he exclaimed with amazement at his own kitchen creation.

“wahh! wow!” he cried, intentionally being overdramatic. you laughed at his silly theatrics, but you found it all endearing nonetheless.

“want a bite?” he teased, holding a spoonful up to his phone. you proceeded to imitate receiving a bite, and the two of you laughed.

while enjoying your respective meals, you continued to chat about small and pointless things. despite the uneventful topics of conversation, eating together like this made you crave real dates with him. ones where he’d take you to a fancy restaurant for dinner or a small cafe for some coffee. you made a mental note to take him to a new brunch place that opened up the next time he visited.

“what else are you planning to do today?” he asked, making his way to his sink. you followed suit, thinking it would be cute to wash dishes “together.”

“whatever you’re planning to do today.” you replied warmly.

the two of you then washed your dishes simultaneously. your video call now filled with the sounds of water running and dishes clanking, with jungkook occasionally breaking into song or humming a familiar tune.

“i have some laundry i need to fold actually,” he mused afterwards, taking a quick scan of his home.

“i do too!” you replied excitedly at the convenient coincidence.

now, with both phones propped up in your respective living rooms, the two of you dove into your piles of laundry. you chatted about new music you were listening to, books you wanted to read, and the new spider-man movie that jungkook was excited to see.

when jungkook began tackling his pile of underwear, he started showcasing the new pieces he received from calvin klein.

“oh my god! what are those!” you laughed. the two of you giggled at the brightly coloured pairs that he was holding up to his phone. although not his typical style, you were glad one of his solo activities included being the endorser for such a popular - and sexy - brand.

you finished folding first, so you adjusted yourself comfortably on your sofa and watched jungkook continue. jungkook took a glance at you and smiled to himself.

“what?” you questioned with a pout.

“you look cute,” he answered with a soft chuckle. you were cuddled up on your couch, encompassed snugly within a throw blanket jungkook had previously gifted you. you hid your face in your hands bashfully.

as he finished folding his clothes, jungkook opted to play some of his music recommendations through his television. he’d softly sing along as you listened intently, chiming in with short remarks here and there.

“i like this one,” you commented after one of the songs ended.

“ah! why don’t i just sing for you, my love?” he suggested suddenly with a teasing tone.

“ew, no, don’t call me that!” you replied with fake disgust. you and jungkook would typically just call one another by your names, so the sudden use of a nickname both surprised and flustered you.

“but go ahead then, mr. jeon.” you continued, previous shyness now replaced with an intrigued arrogance.

after quickly setting up his karaoke machine, jungkook then turned to you smugly with his microphone in hand. he started out his late night - or perhaps early morning - performance with a couple songs related to inside jokes the two of you shared. you watched fondly as jungkook happily sang along to the upbeat pop music.

“don’t go overboard and strain your voice,” you gently reminded him.

“of course, my love.” he teased you again, with a wink this time. you playfully shot him a repulsed look in response.

following his high-spirited warm-up session, he then transitioned to singing his own music. in an attempt to impress your world-class entertainer of a boyfriend, you would sing along using bts fanchants and passionately wave around an imaginary army bomb. jungkook - while still seated on his sofa - would mimic the choreography as he ventured through his groups’ discography.

after running through a couple bts tracks, jungkook then transitioned to serenading you with songs he knew were your favourites. you gazed at him warmly, now completely immersed in him and his voice. although you’d hear him speak practically every day, you never tired of his soft and angelic singing.

through your now heavy eyelids, you noticed your boyfriends’ energy start to deplete as well. he had stopped dancing and moving around as dynamically as earlier, now only swaying back and forth on his couch. you were still comfortably curled up on your couch, now fighting the urge to slip into an afternoon nap.

“are you getting sleepy?” he asked softly after finishing another song.

“no, not at all,” you mumbled, shaking your head at him with a pout.

“alright, you liar.” he taunted playfully. you noticed him place his microphone down beside him, perhaps signalling that he was finished with his karaoke performance.

“wait! one more song!” you cried out in a sudden panic. you didn’t want this moment of bliss to end so soon. the two of you hadn’t had such a long call together in a while, so you wanted to indulge in this moment as much as you could.

“please. just one more song.” you implored, trying to persuade him with forced “puppy dog eyes.”

jungkook conceded with a sly smile, picking up his microphone again. then, ever so swiftly, you heard a slow and soft tune start to play. you allowed yourself to close your eyes, completely immersing yourself in jungkook’s melodic and affectionate final serenade to you.

before the song even concluded, you had fully fallen asleep on your couch. jungkook noticed this, finishing up the song quietly so as to not wake you suddenly. his lips curled into a soft grin as he watched you fall deeper into your slumber.

after tidying up his living room, he made his way to his bedroom with the hopes of getting some rest of his own. he propped you up beside him on his bed, as if the two of you were sleeping next to one another.

then, before succumbing to his own heavy eyelids, he jokingly whispered into his phone: “by the way, i know you have my hoodie.”

but he hoped you hadn’t heard.

[zivazivc]

Because of a recent ask about the dad's name I am dropping this old drawing that should go along with a oneshot I doubt I'll ever finish because I don't like it anymore, so better I just put this out there.

The dad's name is Keanu and his husband's name is Wave. I don't actually know anything about them but here they are 😅

And you can find a portion of the unfinished fic with this scene under the cut. Warning: Floyd is a mess. A much much bigger one than I actually/currently think his present self is, hence why I don't like this so much anymore (and it was never meant to be canon to my ex bandmates au anyway). It's still pretty funny though.

. . .

Before Bruce could notice the change in Floyd’s mood his eyes caught movement behind him by the entrance to the restaurant. His grin eased down into a more relaxed smile for him to return to business.

“We have another troll family coming in,” he said and turned around to pick up a set of small, freshly-printed and laminated menus from the counter. “Been getting quite a number of those since we hosted the concert.”

Floyd snatched them from his hand, eager to push the replay of his anxiety to the back of his mind, and get back to work. “I’m on it," he said determinedly. "You take care of the big guys.”

He didn’t even know if he could handle carrying another Vaycaytioner-sized family-sized order of food. He hogged the regularly-sized troll customers as much as he could. 

The new guests had settled behind one of the small inflatable plastic tables in the pool area close to the entrance where the sun was shining through. Even with their lower halves submerged in water, Floyd could immediately tell that they were Techno Trolls from the way their hair flowed in the air, like gravity was just an afterthought to them.

Once he got closer, Floyd saw that it was presumably two dads around his age with their two kids. His eyes immediately glued themselves to the older, more physically attractive of the two men, because that’s what he always seemed to find himself doing in these situations. Not that it was his fault the guy was hot and Floyd had been grounded to perfume bottles, armadillo RVs, and underground bunkers for months on end.

When he made it to the pool edge and stood right above their floating table, he finally caught himself gazing. He blinked and reeled his stupid horny thoughts back in before he would do something dumb like bite his lip and give him the bedroom eyes in front of his husband and kids. Not that something like that had been completely beneath him in the past. But he was currently on a shift in his brother’s restaurant, so…

He put on a more acceptable, family-friendly smile.

“Hi, welcome,” he said easily, sounding nothing like how his spasmodic thoughts felt in his head. “How’s everyone doing? You guys hungry?”

He crouched down and leaned over the edge of the pool to hand them the menus.

“Starving, actually,” the attractive techno troll said with a friendly laugh in his voice, and leaned over the inflatable table to grab them. And Floyd’s eyes traveled down that toned arm and exposed stomach. Not only did he ooze the confident, warm charisma of someone who had his life together, he was also fit. Floyd almost fell into the pool in his attempt to accidentally brush fingers with him. The guy was back in his spot in the water before either of those things happened, much to Floyd’s relief and disappointment.

He straightened up and pulled up his notepad and pencil almost like a shield. Fuck, Floyd, get your head straight! “Can I get you anything to drink while you decide what you'll have?”

“Nah, I think we’ll look first,” the guy replied without lifting his eyes as he handed the menus to the rest.

Floyd was about to give up on his first round of trying to get this man’s attention, and sigh in relief that his stupid wants weren’t being entertained, when he registered a different set of eyes staring hard at him. He glanced to the left, to the other guy behind the table.

The intensity of the glare nearly made Floyd recoil.

His first thought was: Shit, I wasn’t even trying to be obvious. Because when he was, the angry stares he would receive from jealous boyfriends or girlfriends were usually heated and flustered, not intensely sharp and cold. The steadiness with which he was being pinned didn’t even feel like a newly developed loathing.

Shit was also Floyd’s second thought. He’s looking at me like we know each other… I haven’t already fucked his man before, have I? Floyd wasn’t so good with faces or names …or memory in general when it came to certain episodes in his life. But surely the hot husband would have remembered him at least…

Then his mind wandered to the other possibility. Did we fuck??

Whenever he tried to iron out his life, his stupid past actions always seemed to come back to bite him in the ass. He really hoped this wasn’t one of those cases.

He stared at the troll’s face, trying to place him somewhere. Techno Troll (that didn’t narrow it down that much), hair in two different gradients of blue, dark purple skin, a younger-looking face even for a Techno Troll, bright green eyes, and green freckles…

Sweat broke down Floyd’s back, and it had nothing to do with his recovering physical condition.

He swallowed uncomfortably and instinctively pulled his pencil and paper slightly closer to his chest. His eyes finally looked over to the other side of the inflatable table. He had only briefly glanced at the kids before, enough to know they were kids and uninteresting. But looking at them now… Floyd immediately deviated a couple of shades from his natural hue.

Neither had any of the hunky dad’s warm colors; in fact, the kids weren’t even fully Techno. They were mixed like his friend Liv. The scarce strands of thin, luminescent Techno cords were nearly swallowed up by dense, fluffy, regular hair. The girl—they were a boy and a girl—was lounging on a pool float with her feet in the air, and Floyd could see that instead of flippers, she had legs with the unusually webbed feet, kind of something like an amphibian. The other kid—the boy—had skin that didn't have the dim effect or rubbery texture to it that Techno Trolls normally had, and it was an uncomfortably familiar shade of turquoise. Both of them sported hot pink bangs over their eyes.

“Ah,” Floyd uttered out loud like some kind of dumbass.

The three heads who had been engrossed in the restaurant menu all looked up, surprised to see him still standing there. Floyd evaded their gazes only to lock eyes with the purple troll again.

He… He was the kid from the week-long, non-stop techno rave, back when Floyd had been deep in his sour worm addiction and going through a long manic episode to top it off… At one point during the party someone brought out pure citric acid and Floyd blanked out for three days straight after that, only to wake up in an unfamiliar bed with a double surprise…

It was like a switch, but now Floyd could clearly remember the young adult version of this troll floating around his dorm room with the egg from Floyd’s head in his hands, panicking about how his parents were going to kill him, all while Floyd silently lay in bed contemplating if he should mention the other egg stuck in the kid's hair or if he should just say he’s going to the bathroom and then never return.

“Uhm.” He swallowed uncomfortably, wanting to be anywhere but here. Maybe not the crystal bottle, but anywhere else. “…I think I should get you a different waiter…”

The purple troll’s glare did not waver in the slightest. “I think so too.”

Floyd took that as permission to bail on him a second time. He turned around on his heel and practically ran from the pool edge.

“Keanu, you good?” he heard the husband ask, sounding obviously confused about what just transpired.

Well, at least Floyd knew what to call that troll in his head now instead of just "kid"…

. . .

[nahoney22]

Hey :) I Hope this isn’t too late but I have a fic proposal.

Clones should have a lot of scars and propbably some insecurities, considering that to most people they meet they are ‚just clones‘. I was thinking about a female reader worshipping either Hunter’s or Wolffes/Echoes (I love my grumpy men) body. I think it is a cute idea to make them feel appreciated and loved. It can be NSFW or SFW, whatever mood you’re in.

I also have seen the prompts „i'm not scared of anything except losing you“ and  „ I am truly and unconditionally in love with you“ . They don’t have to be included tho

Congrats on 4k followers! You deserve it so much Honey

Byee

4000 Prompt List Celebration

Wolffe X F!Reader

SFW

word count: 937 words

prompts:

“I’m not scared of anything except losing you.”

“I am truly and unconditionally in love with you.”

warnings: Angst and fluff, cuddling, talks of war and scars, light angst, female reader, established relationship, comfort, shirtless Wolffe, Spoilers for the latest episodes (6&7).

authors note: well seeing as we saw Wolffe so recently it’s only fair I pick this request. Sorry for the wait and hope you enjoy anon 🤍

You awaken to the subtle shift of your bed dipping, drawing you from the haze of dreams. A gentle breeze hints at an open balcony, likely your Commander's doing.

You shift, eyes flicking to the chrono on your bedside table that reads the early hours of the morning before rolling onto you right, facing him.

He’s silent, usual. Shirtless, also a common sight, yet his shoulders bear an unusual weight. "Darling," your voice rasps with sleep, "is everything alright?"

He remains silent, a restless energy vibrating through him as his knee bounces with an unspoken tension. As your hand finds its place on the center of his bare back, a calming touch, his movements still, tension melting away.

"I saw Rex today," he finally speaks, the words carrying a weight you hadn't anticipated.

Your eyes widen, and you sit up abruptly. "Rex? I thought he died in a crash!" The unexpected revelation catches you off guard.

When things took a turn for a worse, you were discarded by this new ‘Empire’ yet Wolffe remained. Your relationship was a secret of course and things had been hard for the both of you. You didn’t agree with these new terms and what Wolffe was doing yet he felt obliged to do his duty. To be a good soldier.

Yet, at nights like this where he would sneak into your home when he should be in his own barracks, you always felt the heavy burden of whatever it was weighing on him.

"So did I... but there he was," he sighs, moonlight casting an ethereal glow on his cybernetic eye and scar. "A deserter, harboring a target the Empire seeks."

Your heartbeat quickens, anxiety gripping your thoughts. "You didn't harm him, did you?"

"No," he responds, a low rumble. "I let him go."

In a hushed tone, you respond, "Oh, well that’s a relief,” as you shift onto your knees directly behind him, offering a supportive presence.

Anticipating a bitter retort, you're surprised when he merely sighs, his head bowing as he falls into a contemplative silence.

Observing his stillness, your eyes trace a new wound on his back, joining the collection of scars. "How did this happen?" you inquire softly, your finger gently tracing the red mark destined to become another scar over time.

"Who knows? Falling from a cliff, getting shot by a civilian, crushed by rocks," he grumbles dismissively.

Moving closer, you delicately wrap your arms around his front, resting your cheek against his back. "Are you in pain?" you inquire, concern lacing your words.

He shakes his head, his hands finding yours to convey appreciation for the comfort. Though not one to seek coddling, the weight of the day has left him in need of solace. "No."

In a moment of necessary silence, a sudden wave of insecurity overtakes him. "Does it uh... look bad?" he hesitates, seeking reassurance.

"The wound?" you clarify.

He nods.

"No."

"Are you lying to me?"

"Wolffe," you interject firmly, gently squeezing his hands, "you know I wouldn't lie to you. We've discussed this. I promise it doesn't look bad."

His jaw tightens, a brief struggle visible on his face, but then he relaxes, allowing your words to penetrate. The scar on his face, a constant reminder, had often made him feel exposed and unattractive. Yet, your consistent reassurances that you saw him differently provided a balm for his insecurities.

“Each scar tells a story, a battle won,” you whisper, kissing his new wound as well as the small scars that littered the rest of his back and what you could see, “a battle lost…” He closes his eyes, knowing what scar you were referring to but allows you to continue. “You’re handsome. Nothing will ever change that or how I love you.”

He bites on the inside of his cheek, his face warming up by the softness of your lips against his skin in the moonlight and your sweet words that had him hooked from the start.

"Are you scared?" you suddenly inquire, and he turns his head, prompting you to move back while still maintaining the embrace. "That they'll find out you let the target get away?"

"I'm not scared of anything," he asserts with stern resolve, but a softness overtakes his expression. "Except losing you."

You offer a soft smile, leaning in to press your lips to his cheek. "Sweet, but I'm serious. Are you not concerned?"

His brow furrows, a hint of reluctance coloring his response. "I won't lie and say I'm not apprehensive. Kark, it wouldn't surprise me if they're already looking for me to reprimand. Or worse."

A twist of unease settles in your stomach, his words weighing heavily on your mind. Tears glisten in your eyes, and he realises his misstep. Without hesitation, he shifts to fully face you, reclining on the bed with his back against the headboard, pulling you close to his chest. "Let's not dwell on that. I'm sorry for waking you."

You roll your eyes at his attempt to deflect the gravity of the situation, but decide to take comfort in his presence for now.

As the soft sound of your snores fills the room, he finds solace in your embrace. He strokes your hair tenderly, a soft smile gracing his lips as he watches you succumb to sleep. "Beautiful girl," he murmurs, a sentiment he wouldn't express while you're awake, not one for overt displays of affection.

Before slipping away into the night, he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice barely above a whisper. "I am truly and unconditionally in love with you."

Masterlist

Prompt List Works

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @mssbridgerton @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @thiswitchloves9904

[kamotecue]

from strangers to friends—friends into lovers (and now we’re strangers again) ✬ m. leon

pairing: mapi leon x reader

summary: you were the center-back’s first love, yet you couldn’t really act upon it. how could you, a royal and a commoner?

you felt someone wrap their tiny hand around the pinky of your finger, it was astrid—you’re only daughter the heiress to the swedish throne. a soft smile was worn upon your face, as you heard her hum to one of your favorite songs.

you looked beside her only to see her twin brother, andres who followed suit—carrying a small bag, his sister’s to be exact. she had always been a fan of sweets, something she had gotten from you. her brother however, preferred something sour—but was never one to deny a treat from his sister.

“du gillade aldrig riktigt att ta pauser, mamma. [you never really liked taking breaks, mom.]” andres commented, as you chuckled. they were right—ever since the tragedy that happened to the swedish monarch, you were held up in the office.

but you always managed to have time for the mischievous duo. they’d love to play pranks on you, you would never get mad but instead have a laugh about it.

“jag kanske inte gillar att ta pauser, men om det är med er två—skulle jag ta en paus när som helst. [i may not like taking breaks, but if it’s with the two of you—i’d take a break anytime.]” you chuckled as andres gave you a small hum, clearly satisfied with your answer.

“kan jag spela på stranden, mamma? [can i play on the beach, mom?]” you heard andres asked, as you gave him a soft look before nodding.

he cheered brightly before rushing, the assigned bodyguard followed suit—ensuring his safety as you snickered.

“var försiktig! [be careful!]” he looked back before giving you a nod. you looked down to see astrid looking at her brother with a soft look—the best duo you’ve ever known.

“mamma, kan vi få glass? [mom, can we have ice cream?]” you gave her a hum, clearly thinking about it before giving her a small yes.

you gave a small nod to a bodyguard, as he returned it, heading to the beach to catch up to your son. you were in disbelief of what was yet to come, memories that you desperately tried so hard to hide.

meanwhile, on the beach a small child was walking around—finding the perfect place to build a sand castle. the two bodyguards were always five steps behind, but it was enough to catch attention from people they passed by.

but a soft oof was heard as andres had accidentally bumped into someone, sending him to the sand. isak, his personal guard’s eyes widens as he rushed forward kneeling on the sand—as he analyzed the young heir.

“är du okej, din höghet? [are you okay, your highness?]” isak’s soft voice was heard, as andres gave him a small nod. he helped the prince up, carefully dusting off the sand that resided in his hair.

“tack, isak. [thank you, isak.]” a lopsided grin was shown on the prince’s face, but a thankful expression was noticeable.

andres looked up to see a woman with a concerned look, but he had noticed the tattoo that was written on her neck—looks can be deceiving.

“are you alright?” she asked, her voice was soft yet filled with concern. but the young prince looked a bit gobsmacked.

“it’s you—you’re the one my mother talks about.” the swedish prince spoke in english, as isak hummed at the prince’s words. mapi looked at him in confusion, slightly tilting her head.

but with a slight pat on the back from her club teammate, frido gave him a formal bow—recognizing him from afar.

“ers höghet, jag ber om ursäkt för min vän. vi spelade fotboll och hon gick för att hämta bollen. [your highness, i apologize for my friend. we were playing football and she went to grab the ball.]” mapi who looked confused, yet flabbergasted at the swedish words clearly not understanding a thing.

the prince just hummed before giving frido a soft smile.

“det är okej, det var ingen skada. [it’s alright, there’s no harm.] however, it’s nice to finally meet you—maria leon.” the prince gave the spanish center back a soft smile, as frido hummed in confusion.

“how do you know me?” mapi asked, slowly pointing to herself as her attention was quickly brought somewhere else.

“broder, vad har du gjort nu? [brother, what have you done now?]” astrid slowly approached the scene followed by a pair of body guards as well. her pink dress stood out as the bodyguards wore suits, yet it fitted the future queen.

frido’s eyes widened a bit, as she gave the crown princess a formal bow—also pulling mapi in a bowing gesture. the barca players had watched from afar, not knowing if they should join or simply watch from afar in amusement.

“i would hear stories about you from my mother, y/n l/n. además, es imposible no conocer al central del barça. [furthermore, it’s impossible not to know the barça center back.]” mapi’s eyes widened at the mention of her first love—while frido looked absolutely stunned at the prince’s fluent spanish.

“jag tror inte att mamma skulle vara nöjd med det. [i don’t think mom would be happy with that.]” astrid said, as andres hummed at her sister’s words.

“pido disculpas por mi hermano gemelo, soy astrid l/n, es cierto que nuestra madre ha hablado de ti. [i apologize for my twin brother, i’m astrid l/n—but it’s true that our mother has talked about you.]” astrid said, holding her hand out—mapi softly shook it, still stunned by the fact that she met the children of her first love.

it was a sudden goodbye after all, you and mapi were childhood friends—almost turned into lovers. the reasons that she has yet to know.

“vi måste gå små, jag fick ett viktigt samtal. [we have to go little ones, i had an important call.]” your voice rang from afar, as you had gazed to where your children were. mapi’s eyes had interlocked with yours, as yours widened with realization.

frido had done a formal bow, it was her queen after all. yet you were shell shocked at the whole thing. little did you know, this wasn’t the last time that you’ll meet again.

[samonroegf]

⠀　 ⠀ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⠀　　 ⠀❝ best friend’s brother w/sam monroe ❞

dead dove, do not eat. dark!content. smut, fluff, angst. bfb!sam monroe x innocent!reader. girly!reader, naive!reader. perv!sam. bully!sam. dom!sam x sub!reader. mix of hc and blurb. read at your own risk, mdni. masterlist.

જ⁀➴ brother's best friend!sam thoughts

ᨳ sam can be really very sweet, if your brother and he stop at your favorite food place, he'll buy it for you. but be very snarky about it. usually making you give him a messy kiss in return for it. the dirty taste of cigarettes on his tongue.

ᨳ sam can also be a little mean, pushing you slightly or tripping you in the hallways at school. he never really grew out of the ‘slightly bullies you to show affection’ era that most boys go through. he can a little pushy when it comes to you, get you so greened out that all you can do is listen to him, wants you to be all his. he wants to choose your outfits, cook for you, you're his little angel and he must protect you.

ᨳ he also will sabotage any relationship you have with a guy, he'll blame it on the fact that high school boys are slumdogs. they'll treat you horribly. he'd tell you, and you being his naïve little girl would believe him.

ᨳ he is going to steal your underwear. using the soft lace and cotton to jack himself off. or maybe pressing the ruined material to his nose, and relinquishing in the sent of you.

ᨳ he'd also steal all your more covering clothing, wanting to see as much of you as physically possible. it's so easy to do when he's over there almost every day.

ᨳ he loves saying things that make you go a bit dumb. litrle phrases that turn you into a bimbo, “hey, pretty girl.” “how’s my girl doing?” “being a good girl, lately?”

ᨳ his favorite pet names to call you are angel, princess, sweetheart, darlin’ and baby. when you're in bed, he loves to call you his dirty little girl, cockhungry whore, babygirl. princess is a must no matter where, you're always his princess.

ᨳ he'd love finding little knickknacks to give you, knowing you love those kinda things. type of man to bring u rocks he thought you'd like. sating something like “pretty bitches love rocks, so a pretty rock for my pretty girl.”

ᨳ sam loves sneaking around your brother, having to wait for him to go to sleep, go to the bathroom, or showing up when sam knows he won't be here. coming to just to tease and mock you.

ᨳ sam adores teasing you, grabbing your hair and giving it a little tug. squeezing your thighs, tits, or ass especially before you actually get with him. loves the little squeaks and mean glares that aren't intimidating.

જ⁀➴ bfb!sam blurbs

ᨳ sam is notorious for not respecting your privacy, always walking into your room whenever he pleases. so when you're too busy to notice, hand in your pants, eyes screwed shut, your other hand over your mouth to keep you from making too much noise.

this is a beautiful site to sam, watching you arch your back as your so close to coming. he'd watch and feel his cock restrain painfully against his boxers. watching you squirm as you ride out your orgasm. palming his hard cock through his pants. slipping out right before you open your eyes. no clue he was even there.

ᨳ the time was inching towards three, your legs crossed as you scribble into your diary. sam leans in the doorway, a blunt between his lips, “whatcha writin’?” he drawls out. smoke flows out of his mouth and nose, he inches forward. the bed creaks under his weight as he sits down.

you're quick to close the journal, sliding it under your pillow as he gets closer. you shake your head, “nothing.” you almost laugh. unable to say that most of the scribbles are about him, about your school girl crush on the older boy.

he takes another hit. this time he grabs you by the jaw, his tight grip causes his rings to pinch the soft skin of your face. you whine against him, it makes him chuckle lowly. he presses his mouth to yours, blowing the smoke int your mouth. giving you no choice but to inhale and exhale, coughing a bit as you did. the smoke is harsh, and makes your lungs feel like they're burning. he smirks devilishly at you as you do.

“one day I'll smoke with you for real.” he rubs his hand up your thigh softly before retreating back to your brother's room.

ᨳ “you wanna help me out?” sam gruffs as he sees you peaking through the crack in the bathroom door. innocent and curious eyes prying on him, begging to be invited in.

sam’s hand was hard and rough against his sensitive cock. pink tip leaking precum that he lazily drags over the head with his thumb. you nod dumbly, falling right into his plan. you close and lock the bathroom door.

“yeah, perfect," his voice gravely with need, pushing you hips harshly against the bathroom counter. pulling your littke dress up on your waist, sam wanted to take all of this in. he just didn't have the time. he pulled down your underwear, the soft material bundling up and roughly scratching against the soft flesh of your thighs.

you squeak at the sudden movements, he pushes his cock in the middle of your thighs. being surrounded by your soft skin without entering you, he can't afford that satisfaction right now. he rutts unceremoniously, you can see the pink head peeping out between your thighs. the sight makes you drip down onto his cockz giving him even more pleasure.

“ugh, thanks for letting me use ya, doll.” he's mumbling, groaning out in between words. he comes quick painting the white counter with his liquid. the sight makes you needy. he presses a kiss in your shoulder, shoves his cock back in his pants and leaves the room. letting you clean up his mess, both the counter and you.

ᨳ you walked through your front door, hushed arguing upstairs. you set down your bag, walking silently up the wooden stairs to see what's going on.

“you can't do this, man,” you're watching theough the slightly cracked door. sam is pulling on his hair a little, something he never grew out of when he was frustrated or upset. your brother is sitting on the bed with a stone face and crossed arms.

“what the fuck-” whatever rant your brother was about to go on, died on his tongue as they both noticed your prescence. it was obvious they fought physically first, a busted lip on sam and a bruised cheekbone on your brother. both of their knuckles a little red, and bruised.

you didn't really know how to react to what you were seeing. they stood opposition to each other, the most important men in your life. your brother always did his best to protect you, keep you safe. only to realize he's been blind the entire time.

you took a moment, a deep breathe, “what the hell is going on?” your nose rung up in disgust at the violence, fighting was never something you liked to concern yourself with. thinking it was a bit dumb.

“he found out.” anxiety bloomed in your chest, at sam's words. sam threw a thumo up towards your brother, who was now watching your every move.

“oh. well you can't just beat up on each other. I'm dating sam, that's final. he's dating me, that's final. you guys are still friends, that's also final. good, glad, we're okay.” you clasped your hands together and tried to walk quickly to your room. you wanted to escape the embarrassing situation as soon as possible.

“hey! woah, that is not how things work.” everything with your brother was a fight, most hard headed individual you'd ever met.

“okayyy,” you drug out the word, turning on your heel to face him since he wanted to argue.

“are you gonna stop me? you want me to be heartbroken? want your beat friend to hate you? neither of us ever wanting to talk to you again? no? then i guess we're fine.”

you both were very close, expecting the other to bac down. which your brother did, unhappily, “fine! but im not happy about it!” he huffs storming away,

“cool, I don't really care!" you yelled down the hallway at him.

ᨳ “sam!” you screeched, applying more color corrector and concealer on the dark red marks that litter your neck. looking at sam, who lays on your bed, through your vanity mirror. he chuckles at you, and smirks. obvious pride in his work.

“i don't know what to tell you, doll, i just can't control myself around you.” you're surely going to kill him, no matter what products you put on your neck there's no covering up the blustering marks on your skin.

“if he sees this, and finds out it's from you, he's gonna kill us both.” you sighed, looking at the mark. you'd never tell sam but you admire the love bites.

“bold of you to assume that I'm scared of him, sweeheart.”

ᨳ “you look so pretty f'me.” he's mumbling, more to himself than actually talking to you. his hands are comfortingly rubbing your thighs. the soft skin growing goosebumps from the sudden touch. his shirt rode up on your torso, revealing your tummy. he pushed it up further so he could see your tits. his hands grab them, groping the flesh roughly. whines falls from your lips at his touch, any touch from sam always makes your nerves feel like live wires.

sam discards your underwear wanting to feast his eyes on all that is you. his fingers slide through your folds collecting the juices on the pad of his finger.

“you taste good, baby?” sam brings his fingers to your lips, absolute dumb for him, your lips naturally envelop his digit. your tongue wrapping around and collecting all the sweet yet salty taste of your cunt. you hum, nodding, half-lidded eyes trailing over sam. he wears a lazy smile, so wrapped up in your reactions to him.

“let me get a taste,” he's talking once more time, to himself rather than you. his head comes between your thighs, licking a stripe theough your folds. he licks and laps at the juices, like it's favorite meal. feverish with need for you, he rutts against the mattress. he's hard, boner hurting him. he refuses to come without making you orgasm at least once.

sam's lips wrap around your clit, tongue whipping against the bundle of nerves. the feeling is too much, overwhlming every one of your senses. you're wriggling under him, his arms wrapped around you the only thing keeping you from squirming too much under him. ot takes only moments for you to come, this new feeling all too much for your virgin cunt. you're rambling just his name, he's trying not to chuckle as you feed his ego.

“that's it, baby, you're okay. i got you, feels so good doesn't it,” he's helping you rude out your orgasm, little licks that keep your body jumping slightly under him.

ᨳ halloween, not one of your favorite holidays but it was sam's. so you weren't surprised when he showed up to your house, just didn't expect the way he did it. a bang on your window pulls you from your thoughts, startlingly. just to hear sam's maniacal laugh from the other side, while your hand rests on your chest. you and sam both trying to catch your breaths for completely different reasons.

he climbs in through your window, not wanting your brother to know he's there yet. they were supposed to have a movie marathon, but how could sam focus on that without having fun with you first.

“that was so not funny!” you're exasperated, but you'd be lying if you said seeing sam in a ghostface outfit didn't turn you on a little. the most fuckable slasher.

“don’t i look good tho?” he asks walking up to you, pulling your back against his chest. his cologne and the smell of weed and cigarettes invades your nostrils.

“yeah, whatever,” you huffed, arms crossed over your chest, a pout forming on your glossy lips. he takes out a pocket knife letting the blade scratch lightly against your bare thighs. not enough to hurt just enough to leave a lighter line marking your skin, before fading away in moments.

“sam,” you whined, somewhere betweent telling him to go away, and to never leave your side. he chuckles at this, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“i'll sneak back in later, your brother is expecting me.”

ᨳ sam laid in your bed, your brother gone for the week at basketball camp or whatever he gets up to. your head was on his chest, while his fingers comb through the tangled strands. your eyes are closed, and he's just watching you. taking in how you snuggle into him, when you get the chance.

“i can feel you staring." you giggle out, peaking open one eye and looking at him. his mouth is curved into a half smile, just admiring his babydoll.

“you’re so pretty, doll. most beautiful girl in the world,” his hand came to your jaw, thumb rubbing over your cheek. it wasn't like sam to be all mushy, it caught you off guard. you hid your face in his chest, taking in his natural scaent under the normal aroma of stale cigarettes, and burning bud.

“don’t hide from me, please.” this statement had your curiousity piquing. trying to figure out what's gotten into sam this time. one eyebrow of yours quirked, “what’s- are you okay?”

sam's face fell a little, “what I can't admire my girl?” the my in his sentence exaggerated, an undertone of jeakousy making it's way to the center stage.

“you can! you're just being...romantic. and that's not really your style, sammy.” you defended, coming to set your head up, really looking at him.

“well, i love you, and i want you to know that.” there wasn't an taboo of saying i love you in this relationship, neither of you having gotten around to it yet. your lips curved into a huge grin, immediately saying it back and pressing a soft kiss to sam's lips.

ᨳ “why are we at a park?” sam would complain, walking with towards the grass. although he seems to be in a hitty mood, he enjoys doing anything as long as he's with you. his hand swunging wildly intertwined with yours, the action makes your heart squeeze a little.

“i want to have a picnic.” you'd give him a soft smile as you speak. finally finding a tree with good ahade for the two of you to sit under. otherwise sam will burn and you'd have to listen to him bitch the whole time.

“fine. at least it's not a million degrees out today.” his words would seem agressive but he's cheesin at you. smiling, it's not something that he would do alot, at least not before you. now, though, he'd seem naked without it. without his white pearls gleaming in the sun.

you set out all the food on top of a checker print blanket, even though sam hates most cheesy things, he loves this, loves you and any moment he can spend eith you.

ᨳ your whines are loud, too loud in a house with other people in it. sam takes your lacy underwear that he had previously tucked in his pockets, and shoves them in your mouth. you can taste yourself on the material, proof to how worked up sam had made you.

“sorry, princess, but if you can't be quiet I'll have to make ya.” he pushed your head back into the pillows, a disgruntled whine falling past your lips. his hands hold your hips roughly, using them as handles to piston his cock in and out of your dripping hole.

everything is too much in the best way possible, how you can feel every ridge and vein of him streatching you out. the strained feeling in your back from arching for so long. the rough material of lace in your mouth. not to mention the little moans that sam is dropping, you feel like you might explode.

“fuck, squeezing me so tight, love fucking you baby. love how she sucks me in, and your body, god.” sam is pussydrunk, words falling haphazardly from him, babbling from the pleasure. he's super close, your fingers rubbing circles onto your clit makes you both cone at the same time. you see white or stars, you're not even sure as he collapses beside you. helping you take out the panties and catch your breath.

જ⁀➴ bfb!sam + turns ons

ᨳ he loves your innocence, just the little head tilt when you're confused, or how your lips make the perfect o shape when you figure something out.

ᨳ your outfits, especially if you were to wear fishnets or little skirts. he also loves lace, and anything soft like satin or silk. loves how the colors compliment your skintone.

ᨳ your thighs, if he can see them, they're turning him on. it's monumental when he gets his hand on your skin. squeezing the flesh between his fingers, loves giving the soft, plush love bites, and marking them.

ᨳ you would think that something small like lip gloss wouldn't affect sam, i mean lip gloss is everywhere and most girls wear it. but it's not the actual lip gloss that turns him on, he loves watching you apply it. puckering your lips like you do when you beg him for a kiss. all glossy and wet like after you blow him, or when you're done having messy making out sessions with him.

ᨳ he loves to corrupt you, give you your first drink, smoke, bowl, tab. taking your first kiss, orgasm and virginity. he wants to make you his in every way he knows how. he needs to claim you.

ᨳ sam loves corrupting you, so the first time (and everytime after that) you ask him to pack the bong / roll up for you his entire face lit up. a spark ignited in him, when he's realized you're becoming just as fucked up as him.

ᨳ sam adores your little noises, if he hears you groaning annoyed with something you're trying to open or something like that he's probably getting hard.

ᨳ he cannot help it if you cry, he's getting horny. something about how teary eyed you get when he's fucking you, that whenever you cry he's turned on.

ᨳ when you start bratting off, whether that's being a smartass or trying to piss him off in hopes of getting laid, he thinks it's so cute and he likes a lil tussle with his sex life.

ᨳ you asking / wanting to enegage in sex, of course sam likes to be a little gross but something about your enthusiastic condent makes him hard. if you beg to suck him off, he might blow a load right there and then.

[almondamaretto]

sunday

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: a rainy sunday afternoon is perfect for two things: getting high, and making out with hot people.

warnings: weed, kissing

a/n: i lowk hate this but idc!

not proof read.

✄┈┈┈┈

she stirred as the familiar vibration of a phone call interrupted her deep slumber, slinging her arm around in search of the agitating device. without lifting her head, her fingertips fell upon the cool, glossy screen of her phone. 

she opened her eyes just to squint them closed at the bright phone screen, the caller id reading off "matty b." 

pressing the bright green button, she pulled the phone up to her ear and slung her arm over her eyes, blocking any light from seeping in. 

"hey matt." she answered in a groggy voice that nearly resembled that of a whine. he always loved the way she sounded in the morning. or all the time really. 

she could hear the distant sounds of wheels driving on wet pavement and cars passing. that along with the poor bluetooth connection through is car told her he was driving. 

"hey doll, i'm on my way to your house right now, that ok? nick and chris are being annoying." 

slightly more awake now, she could hear the sleepiness in his voice, as if he too had just woken up. she pulled the phone from her ear to check the time. 12:32pm 

"say, it’s a bit early for you, isn't it?" she asked in a teasing manner, suppressing a yawn. she could now hear the faint sound of rain against her window. 

matt snorted in amusement, "yeah, the two idiots woke me up screaming at each other." 

"that's alright, I'll go unlock my door. see ya soon?" 

"i'm 5 minutes away." 

"be safe, bye matt." 

"bye, doll." 

doll. 

matt had used the nickname throughout their entire relationship. 

still, it never failed to bring heat to her face, her neck--all over. 

she remained in bed for a few moments, letting herself fully wake up before tossing her heavy comforter off. 

she shivered at the chilly air suddenly caressing her exposed skin, standing up and stretching her arms high into the air, inhaling deeply. 

she slipped a pair of socks on as a barrier between her feet and the cold floor, slipping out of her cozy room into the main section of her apartment. 

the cool, metallic texture of her lock was a stark contrast to her warm hands as she turned it, peeking out from behind her curtain to see what was happening outside. 

she waltzed over to her turntable, flicking it on and letting the record already on the platter play.  

as she walked over to her kitchen, the familiar crackling sounded throughout the apartment, followed by the reggae notes of bob marley's "three little birds." 

the sound of lucky charms cereal clinking against a ceramic bowl masked the noise of her door opening and shutting. so, when a slightly damp matt saw her swaying slightly to the music, he couldn't help himself. 

he snuck up behind her, wrapped his hands around her front, just under her loose baby tee, and lifted her up. "boo!" 

she yelled out in fear, until she recognized the voice of the man he startled her. "matthew!" she scolded in an angry tone. 

matt sat her back down gently, and dropped his head in fake guilt, failing to mask his sly smirk. "sorry, i couldn't pass up an opportunity like that." 

"first of all, fuck you. second of all, 'boo' is crazy." she responded through her laugh and turned to finish her much-needed bowl of sugary cereal. 

matt reached up beside her for a bowl--one from a different set--as a way to ask her for cereal. she filled both up with cereal and milk without a word. 

"i'm too cold for this shit." she mumbled under her breath and padded back into her welcoming bedroom. 

the sky outside was dark, so she turned on her array of string lights and lit a cinnamon scented candle, joining matt who had already climbed into her warm, plush bed. 

"i fucking love this bed." matt groaned out int pleasure, sprawling his limbs out as much as he could without risking spilling milk. 

she took a spoonful of cereal into her mouth and grabbed her tv remote, powering it on. "what do you wanna watch?" 

"gravity falls." he spoke from behind a mouth full of food. 

then, the two just sat in comfortable silence. bob marley playing lowly in the background, the television turned up just loud enough to hear it, wrapped in the comfort of her sheets. 

cereal bowls placed on her nightstand with care, the two cuddled into each other, legs tangled as she hugged his torso, head laying on his chest. 

they both recognized the palpable tension that followed them everywhere. they both knew there was something there. something unspoken. 

but that it what it remained--unspoken. neither took any action, too afraid of the outcome. 

matt glanced down at her, watching her eyelashes bat as she blinked, focused intently on the screen. however, as if she could tell, she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. 

panicking, he looked back at the tv screen, urging himself to breathe normally. 

she stood up, a faint smirk painted on her beautiful face. "i have a great idea!" she said proudly, spinning to unlock one of her many windows to open it slightly. 

matt watched her intently as she bent over to look in the drawers of her nightstand, pulling out the essentials for a joint. "there's a reason we get along so well." he responded happily. 

she took mock offense. "what, its not my winning personality?"

"i guess that too."

"i'm gonna go flip the record, will you please roll it?" she asked with big pleading eyes, grinning widely when he nodded his head. 

upon her return, she saw him focused intently on creating the perfectly rolled joint. chewing on her lower lip, she watched as he rolled it tightly between his fingers, stinging his tongue out of his mouth to seal it shut. 

once finished, he held up the small object with a proud smile on his face. she giddily climbed back into the bed, placing the filter end between her lips, and lighting the end. 

she inhaled deeply, ignoring the burning in her throat, and passed it over to matt. 

exhaling, she once again snuggled into his side, craving his warmth. 

they passed the drug back and forth, enjoying the intoxicating feeling swarming their brains. her eyes had dropped down and turned red, and her need to be close to matt grew even stronger. 

at this point she had tuned gravity falls out, instead taking interest in the way the smoke lifted and swirled throughout her room, taking on the color of the few and far between sun rays that filtered through the rainclouds.

the sound of the rain falling against her balcony outside was comforting, nearly as much as matt pressed up against her, his heart beating steadily against her head.

passing it back once more to matt, she looked deeply into his eyes, refusing to look away, other than a quick few glances at his pink lips. she took her own in between her teeth. 

matt took a large hit, thankful for the drug's confidence boost, and brought his free hand up to her face. 

warily, he inched closer to her, pulling her closer with his hand. 

their lips were inches apart when he used his thumb to part them gently, tilting his head and blowing the vapor into her willing lungs. 

her hand snaked up to the back of his neck where she gripped the short hairs, and she exhaled the smoke. 

they paused for a moment, and in a quick decision she grabbed the thoroughly smoked roach, turned to snuff it out in her bedside ash tray, and turned back around to smash her lips against matt's. 

she was filled with the warmth she so desperately craved and needed. she straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, shuttering as he traced up and down her sides and back with his. 

the music playing from the other room was forgotten about along with the cartoon show on the tv. all of their thoughts were consumed by each other. 

slipping his tongue into her mouth, he tilted his head and brought a slender hand up to push her even closer to him, if it was possible. 

they fought over dominance of the kiss, exploring each other's mouths with need, short, breathless whines falling from their throats. 

without hesitation, matt flipped them over completely, so he was laying his weight on top of her.  

Small hands caressed his face and gently tugged on his hair, wet noises making both faces heat up in embarrassment. 

finally, they pulled away to catch their breath, chests heaving and pressing against one another with each intake of breath. both were left speechless, gazing into each other's eyes with starstruck looks of awe and affection. 

it wasn't long before matt leaned back in, this time acting with double the desire, twice the passion as before. 

they made out for what seemed like hours--it probably was--rolling around in her warm bed, impossibly tangling themselves in her cream-colored bedsheets. 

the only breaks they took were to breathe and for short, affectionate conversations which always led back to them shoving their tongues down each other's throats. 

they pulled apart again, still breathing heavily. 

"matt, y'know... i've-i've never liked someone the way i like you.” 

he smiled against her lips, placing a few more longing kisses on them. 

tucking hair behind her ear and holding both sides of her face, he stared intensely into her eyes. 

“i am in love with you, doll.” he confessed truthfully. 

she beamed with joy, her sheepish reaction telling him she felt exactly the same way. 

“even when you have really messy hair and a little bit of dribble on your chin.” he teased and wiped her pointy chin with his slender thumb.

she rolled her droopy eyes and shook her head, her giddy smile never leaving her red, swollen lips “just shut up and kiss me, idiot.” 

[safetycar-restart]

KINKTOBER DAY 12: CAUGHT MASTURBATING [CHARLES LECLERC X READER]

NOTE: This fic is NSFW and features sub!Charles and dom!reader. I also added mommy kink to this one despite it not being mommy kink day because it just works. So if you're under 18 or uninterested in this kind of thing, scroll past. Alternatively if you like what you see here, check out the rest of my blog :))

This fic forms part of a kinktober series where we discuss a different kinky concept with a different motorsports person every day. We also discuss the concepts in more detail through answering asks so if you have any of your own thoughts, feel free to stop by!

Charles tries to wait, really he does. He tries to watch random things on TV, tries to workout, tries to call some friends, tries to play some piano and even tries to read a book. But no matter what he tried, he couldn't keep his mind off it.

Because your poor little darling was horny. Way too horny.

He had woken up hard, as he almost always does. This time you were with him, so naturally he immediately snuggled up against you, slowly grinding against you and waiting for you to wake up so you can make him feel good.

Except when you did wake up, you had to get up immediately because you had agreed to breakfast with some friends. You would have been late if you stayed and gave Charles the attention he wanted.

Naturally he gets all pouty when you tell him, whining and trying to get you back into bed. He pulls out the big guns and mumbles, 'mommy' over and over because he's needy! He's needy and horny and you're supposed to help him but now you're leaving!

You tell him that you're just going out for breakfast and that you'll be back in about two hours, giving a nice kiss and telling him to go make himself some breakfast and be a good boy for you. He nods, because of course! He will always be a good boy!

So you leave and it starts off well enough. You told him to go make himself breakfast, so he goes to make himself breakfast. But after that, he's still horny! He has run out of tasks from you to distract himself and he's still horny! He knows he's allowed to masturbate, but he also knows you would help when you got back if he hadnt, so he tries his best to distract himself and not touch himself.

But he can't help it! He does as many things as he can to distract himself but he can't do it. He's so hard and he keeps on thinking about what you might do to him when you get back and he just.... he's alone and he's horny and he misses his mommy and there's no way in hell he'd be able to do anything else at this point.

Which is how he finds himself back in the bedroom. He grabs one of your hoodies from the closet, intending to put it on but he doesn't get that far because he ends up just collapsing not the bed, his free hand moving down to touch himself.

That's how you find him, laying on his back on the bed, his head buried in your hoodie, his hand down his boxers. He's letting out little whines as he slowly strokes himself, not noticing you because he's got his head hidden in your hoodie.

You spend a little while just watching him, watching your good boy playing with himself on your bed, hiding in your hoodie. You wait until you can see he's getting close to make yourself known.

"Charles?" you call, watching the way his head shoots up and he turns to see where you are.

“Mommy?” He asks, hand still in his boxers.

“Well isn’t this a pretty thing to come home to,” you tell him, moving forward to sit on the bed.

You want to praise him immediately so that he knows he isn’t in trouble. Sometimes when Charles gets like this he’ll be scared you’re upset with him for touching himself. Which no, of course you aren’t. You could never be upset with him for that.

“Making yourself feel good?” You ask him, cupping his cheek. He nods and turns his head to rest in the palm of your hand, eyes fluttering closed as his hand starts to move again.

You decide to let him carry on jerking himself off, rather than interfere too much. But you do make him take off his boxers and use some lube, just so you can see better.

He’s such a whiney mess for you, trying to put on a good show for his mommy but also feeling too good to be able to really concentrate on looking good.

The moment he cums, he’s crawling into your arms for cuddles and to hear about how your breakfast went.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

You Can Talk to Me

Matt Murdock x Reader

Words: 5730

Summary: A night of drinks becomes something else when the reader reveals what’s been bothering her the past week. Matt tries to not be blinded by his feelings for his best friend as he comforts her, but this heartbreak may be just what she needs to see what’s right in front of her. 

Notes: Yet another Matt comfort imagine, surprise surprise. I guess the thing about heartbreak, is it gives you plenty to write about. I don’t really have much else for this one, other than I’m just writing whatever I need right now. And fuck it, if that means combining smut with a comfort imagine, so be it. This is a lot, but I loved every minute of writing it. 

Warnings: Angst, 18+ SMUT (choking, oral, unprotected, the works)

More Matt Imagines Here

-

Karen checked her watch again, head peeking over the growing crowd at Josie’s to try and spot the fourth member of their get-together. 

“She’s never late,” Karen said, frowning. She turned to the two men waiting with her. “Maybe I should call again.”

Matt listened. Old rock hits played over the speakers and a group of men bickered by the pool table, but past the buzz of the neon and slight muffling through the window pane, he heard it. Quick, shallow breaths and a hurried heartbeat paired with the sharpness of salt in the air. 

Matt stiffened. 

You were crying. 

He heard as you took a few deep breaths and hastily wiped your cheeks. 

You pushed open the door to the bar with a strained smile and searching eyes. 

“She’s here,” Matt said, his tone turned solemn.

What happened? 

Foggy beamed, spotting you by the entrance. “How does he do that?”

Matt’s head tilted, analyzing your movements as you made your way through the crowd. Karen and Foggy were still looking for a table, but he could practically feel the effort it took to keep up your sunny demeanor. 

“Sorry I’m late,” you said, finally reaching them. “I got an unexpected call from work.” 

Your heart skipped. 

Matt’s worry deepened. 

You’d never lied to them before. 

Karen waved it off. “Well, you’re here now.”

“Let the party commence!” Foggy cheered. 

Matt gave you a small smile. You did your best to return it. The other two left to get more drinks. 

“Work, huh?” Matt prompted. 

Your heart skipped again. “Yeah, they just needed to run something by me. No big deal.” 

“Right.”

You noticed the twitch in his smile, the gentleness in his tone. You should have known he’d be able to tell something was wrong. He always did. It didn’t help that you’d been avoiding your friends these past two weeks. Especially Matt- because you knew this would happen. Somehow, he just saw you. 

“How are the cases coming?” You asked, hoping to get the attention off of you. “You guys just won the worker’s comp case you’d been working so hard on right?”

Matt’s smile returned. “Yeah, we did.” He motioned in the direction of his partner. “Foggy’s closing statement really sealed it for us. You would have loved it.”

“Well, I unfortunately had a civil case across the hall.” You flexed your hands. “God, they talked so much I thought my fingers would fall off.”

The two of you chuckled.

“You should take some of that vacation time you talked about.” He cleared his throat, shifting almost uncomfortably. “Maybe go somewhere with Sam.” 

You stiffened and glanced down at the table. “Yeah, Matt, about that-”

“Your elixir of drunkenness, milady.” Foggy set your bourbon down with a flourish. 

You laughed, grateful for the interruption. “Why thank you, sir.”

Matt sighed lightly and sipped his beer, gripping the bottle a little tighter. 

What the hell did Sam do?

You took a long, slow drink and let the burn wash away any other feeling. It worked… if only a little bit.

Karen led you all to a booth she’d picked out towards the back of the bar. 

“So,” she said, taking the seat beside Foggy, sticking you beside the human lie detector. “What have you been up to? It seems like it’s been forever since we’ve actually seen you.”

You gulped and slid into the booth, Matt following after you. You almost stammered when his knee bumped against yours.

“Um, it’s been okay.”

Matt raised a brow at your hesitation, nudging you again. It wasn’t like you to hide things. Not from him. 

You took a deep breath and ripped off the bandaid. “Sam and I broke up.”

Foggy’s eyes widened, Karen’s softened, and Matt took another drink. 

“I’m okay though,” you quickly followed up. 

Lie.

“I’m sorry,” Foggy said. He paused, then perked up. “Do you want another drink?”

“Foggy,” Karen scolded.

“What? Break-ups are the perfect reason to get wasted!”

You snickered and downed the rest of your whiskey. “I wouldn’t say no to another round.” 

Foggy turned to the others. 

Matt shrugged, still listening intently to your uneven breathing. “I’ll have what she’s having.” 

Karen leaned, reaching a comforting hand toward yours. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

“No, I couldn’t,” you shook your head. “We’re celebrating you guys tonight.” You took the drink Foggy handed you and raised your glass. “To Nelson and Murdock.” 

Matt clinked his whiskey to yours. “And to being there for friends,” he added pointedly. 

“Here here,” Karen cheered before you could shoot him a glare.

The next hour was filled with drinks and laughter. It helped you feel a little more like yourself- something you’d been trying to do for weeks. Every time Foggy made a joke or Matt “accidentally” brushed against your arm, the hole in your chest felt a little smaller. 

And then you saw him.

Matt heard his voice first. His tense shoulders were why you looked up. 

Sam had his arm around a pretty girl with dark hair. You’d seen her at his office before. His head turned, eyes meeting yours. 

It was like you weren’t there. 

Sam waved at Foggy and went to the other side of the bar, as far away from you as possible. 

“That’s just cold,” Foggy said, shaking his head. 

You finished your third drink. If you had anymore here you’d start crying and you were not going to let that happen. Not in front of all of them. Not til you were home. If Sam could not care, so could you. 

“Do you want to leave?” Matt asked softly. 

You swallowed back the panic attack rising in your throat. “No. We should finish our drinks.”

“Do you want another?” Karen offered. 

“I’ll just get water to end the night, thanks.” 

Matt knew what that meant. You’d finish the night at home, by yourself, drinking until you fell asleep numb. A coping mechanism you had only ever confided in him about. It was easier for you to face everything alone, or at least you convinced yourself it was. He could relate to that.

You couldn’t stop your gaze from shifting toward the couple across the bar, no matter how hard you tried. You watched Sam’s eyes glisten every time he looked at her. He laughed loud enough for the sound to reach over the crowd. 

God, you felt so stupid. 

Matt couldn’t do it anymore. Even if he hadn’t been able to sense the way just sitting there was eating at you, the idea of you hurting was enough to break him. 

“Hey, I’ve got some leftover enchiladas from the Galindo case,” he said, leaving closer to you so his breath was against your ear. “Want to help me get through them?” Before you could make an excuse, he finished with. “They’ll go bad if you don’t. You know how often I forget dinner.” He playful bumped his shoulder into yours. 

You rolled your eyes. “And I keep telling you that one of these days you’ll keel over and I won’t run to help you.” 

“Yes you would,” he teased. “You like me too much.”

“Maybe,” you laughed. 

He could always do that. And the idea of going home alone…

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” You held up a finger, “but only if I can go through your record collection.”

Matt grinned. “Deal.”

Karen saw your gaze flit back to where it was before and leaned to whisper to you. 

“I know this isn’t much help now,” she said, “but you’re better off without him.” 

“Yeah, I never liked the smug sonofabitch anyway,” Foggy added a little too loudly.

“Shhhh,” you and Karen both hissed. 

You thought you saw Sam glance over and ducked to hide your face in Matt’s shoulder. 

Karen looked between the two of you, but kept her comments to herself, though her smile grew. 

Matt chuckled and took your hand, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb in a way that said ‘it’s gonna be okay.’

-

Foggy and Karen got a cab but both you and Matt felt okay enough to walk back to his apartment in the warm New York spring air. There was still a bite in the breeze, lingering from winter. Only wearing a nice tee, you shivered. 

“Are you cold?” Matt asked, already taking off his suit jacket. He put it around your shoulders without you even having to ask. 

Karen shot you a smirk. 

You mouthed ‘Seriously?’

She snickered and closed the cab door. 

You quickly turned to Matt, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks- not knowing he could sense it, of course. “Ready?”

Matt smiled and held out his arm. “Lead the way.” 

His easy demeanor helped to calm you a little and when his arm hooked through yours, it felt like he was the one guiding you. Maybe he was, in a way.

“It’s really nice tonight,” you said, trying- and failing- not to sound awkward. 

“Are you talking to me about the weather?” Matt teased. 

Your face reddened even more. “Leave me alone, I’m-” you searched for a word, flustered. “Fragile.” 

He snickered. “Fragile, huh?”

“Yes,” you nudged his side with your elbow. “Fragile. Which means you have to be nice to me.” 

“I’m being very nice,” he said in mock offense. “I’m feeding you Seniora Galindo’s enchiladas and letting you rummage through my records. I’d say I am your knight in shining red glass this evening.” He poked you right back.

“You have certainly been chivalrous,” you smiled and fell into silence, the weight on your chest sucking the energy out of you. 

This was how it had been. One moment, you were okay, and the next…

It was like you only had two true modes of being. 

Angry.

Or empty.

There was much in between. It was getting harder and harder to remember that any of it had been good to begin with. 

The way his eyes just slide past you at the bar. 

The way he practically ignored you in the conversations at work.

The way he wouldn’t even talk to you about what happened. 

Like you weren’t there.

Like you were nothing. 

The word hit you. It struck you in the chest like someone had put their hands around your ribs and pushed. 

But you kept walking.

Matt sensed the shift- the hitch in your breath and the hesitation in your step. He wanted to stop you right there and pull you into his secure embrace to block out the thoughts that plagued you. The hurt. He wished he could stop it. 

But he waited. 

You were grateful for the jacket wrapped tightly around you because the night had turned colder by the time the two of you reached Matt’s apartment building. Still pushing down that dark empty ache, you climbed the stairs with your eyes trained on the ground. 

Matt opened the door, ushering you in with a gentle hand on the small of your back. 

The touch made you flinch, not because it was uncomfortable, but because the gesture brought out more feeling than you were prepared for. Every nerve was set on edge. 

“Sorry,” you murmured, seeing Matt pull away. 

He shook his head, still giving you that small smile. “You don’t have to apologize.”

He let you go first into the living room, where you took a seat close to the window. Staring out at the bright, shifting lights of the billboard, you breathed out for what felt like the first time since you saw Sam in the bar.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” you mused. You felt Matt take a seat, the cushions shifting beside you. His arm grazed your back as he draped it over the back of the couch. 

“Y/N,” he started softly.

You blinked back tears, a pleading in your voice. “Matt…” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” He put a finger under your chin and gently turned your face toward him. “I know you’re holding something back. Why?” There was a desperation in his voice, a need to do something- anything to make it better. 

“I can’t.” You still tried to fight against the emotions trying to choke you. 

Maybe Sam had the right idea when he stopped speaking to you altogether. And you still didn’t know why. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Matt whispered, moving closer to you. “You can talk to me.” 

Those five words were all it took. Two weeks of being blamed and ignored and confused and devastated hit you all at once.

Matt felt the break before the first tear fell. He felt your lips tremble, still trying to hold back the words that were tearing you apart. It shattered him. Matt wrapped his arms around you and this time you didn’t flinch away. 

You crashed against him like the waves inside your chest. 

“Tell me what’s been going on, sweetheart,” Matt urged, his tone as sweet as the endearment he called you. “Just talk to me.”

“He won't-” You sucked back a sob. “He won’t talk to me. I thought, when he broke up with me, that things were okay between us. That we could be friends like we were before. But now, he won’t even look at me.”

Matt thought about Sam’s quickly shuffling feet, his spiked heartbeat when he saw them there. Like he couldn’t get away fast enough. But why? The last time Matt had been around the two of you, Sam seemed fine. Matt didn’t particularly like the guy but he made you happy. Or he used to, anyway.

“It’s not like I thought Sam was ‘the one’ or anything,” you said, calming yourself down. “But I thought these past two months at least meant something. He’s acting like they didn’t even happen.” You wrapped your arms around your legs, tucking yourself into the corner of the couch. “And I feel like an idiot because we weren’t together for long but… I guess he’d become one of my best friends and now it’s like I’m not… anything, anymore.” 

Your last statement struck Matt, but he didn’t push it. Not yet. 

“And he hasn’t told you why? He just-” Matt sighed. “Disappeared on you?”

More like he made you disappear. 

You curled up more. 

“And there’s nothing I can do about it.” There was no hiding the defeat in your tone. You wiped a stray tear. “I just wanted something to work out for once.” How many times could your heart break again and again and again before it gave up?

Matt kept an arm around your shoulders. He moved closer so you could lay your head on his shoulder and blew out a breath. “I know.”

His soft touch set you off again. Your cries were quiet, your tears slow. You didn’t have the energy to sob. 

Matt tucked you in his arms, waiting. It wasn’t his place to push, not when everything was so raw. Not when part of him wished he could kiss your tears away. 

He’d always wondered if his dislike of Sam came out of jealousy. Matt felt he had waited too long and he lost his chance when Sam came along. 

He felt horrible, thinking about that now, but it lingered nonetheless. 

“Thank you,” you sniffed, sitting up again. “I really didn’t want to go home alone again.”

You’d counted every crack in your ceiling three times already.

“You can come over whenever you need to, okay?” Matt smiled. “You liven up the place.”

You snorted. 

“I’m serious,” he said. Matt leaned over and kissed your forehead. “You warm every room you’re in.”

You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but when your lips brushed against his- just for a moment- Matt pulled away.

“Wait,” he said. The kiss barely lasted a second, but he sounded breathless. His smile almost seemed nervous. “You haven’t picked a record yet.” 

You swallowed hard. “O-okay.”

While you walked to his crate records, Matt tried to force his heartbeat to slow down. Just the brief touch had his head spinning. But you were vulnerable and hurting. He couldn’t bear the idea of taking advantage of that. To keep himself busy, he got up to go to the kitchen, getting you a glass of water.

You picked a soft 90s alt album and put the needle on. Quiet drums filled the space but did little to silence your mind. You went back to the couch but didn’t sit down. You took the water but didn’t drink. 

Neither of you said anything for a while. 

Finally, the guilty part of you took over.

“Sam’s going through a lot,” you reasoned. “Between his caseload and things going on with his family…” God, maybe you were being the selfish one here. 

Matt held onto the back of the couch, unfocused eyes trained on the carpet. “That doesn’t mean he gets to treat you like this.”

You turned away. “I know.”

Matt let go of the leather and walked to you. “You deserve better than this, Y/N.” 

“I know.” Your heart faltered again. Another lie. 

Despite the voice in his head telling him to stop, Matt put a hand on your arm, fingers squeezing gently to get you to face him. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

You found yourself leaning into his touch again. At least it made you feel something again. When you spoke, it was almost too quiet. If it hadn’t been Matt, he might not have heard you.

“I’ve never had someone make me feel like I was…” The words cracked inside you. “Like I’m nothing the way he has.”

Matt’s heart broke completely. 

How could anyone make you think that? How could anyone not see how incredible and important and- he couldn’t even think of enough words to capture the growing need in his chest. A need to not have you feel this way anymore. 

“Y/N, no,” he said, taking your face in his hands. “You aren’t nothing. You mean so much to so many people. To Foggy and Karen. To me-” he took a deep breath. “Y/N, you’re everything.”

Suddenly you weren’t thinking of Sam or the girl he was with. You weren’t thinking about your emptiness or your anger. All that mattered, all you felt… was him.

“Matt,” you breathed him in, shaking with your next request. “Please.”

Matt’s lips ghosted yours. He was standing so close you thought you could hear his heartbeat. 

“Are you sure?” If you said no, he would step back and you would never have to worry about him not speaking to you. He could never leave you like that, no matter how he felt. But if you said yes-

“I need you, Matt,” you whimpered. You didn’t know how true it was until you said it. 

Until he closed the space between you, capturing any other words with his lips. 

Matt wished his kiss alone could show you how much you meant. He tried to convey every feeling with the movement of his lips, the sweep of his tongue, his hand moving to cup the back of your head. 

A soft moan escaped your throat as his tongue explored your mouth. You tilted your head back, giving him better access. 

The sound ignited through Matt. He held you tighter, hands falling to grip your waist while his mouth moved to your ear. 

“You’re everything,” he repeated, breath on your skin. 

You moaned again, fingers gripping his button down, pulling him back toward the couch. 

Matt’s hold tightened, keeping you in place. He chuckled and shook his head. “If we’re doing this.” He lifted you up in his arms. 

You yelped. 

He wrapped your legs around his waist. “We’re going to do it right.”

He carried you steadily to his room and laid you down on silk sheets. Matt hovered over you for a moment, letting his senses take everything in. 

Impatient, you tugged on his hair.

Again, he just chuckled, using one hand to grab your wrists and hold them over your head.

You raised a brow. This was a side of the snarky lawyer you hadn’t entirely expected. Not that you were complaining. 

“I need you to do something for me,” he said, a smug smile spreading across his face. There was the Matt you knew. “I need you to be patient.” He kissed along the collar of your shirt. “And let me make you feel good.”

“That’s two things,” you teased. 

He nipped at your collarbone hard enough to make you gasp.

“O-okay, Matt.” 

“Good girl,” he said lowly. From how your body responded, he kept that in mind for later.

Matt pulled his shirt over his head, not bothering with the buttons.

You admired the curves of his torso, leading downward to the waistband of his pants and what lay beneath.

“Matt,” you said, a slight whine in your voice. 

He smirked. 

Bastard.

You pulled those smug lips back to yours, kissing him with just a smidge of defiance. 

Matt’s hand made its way to your throat, squeezing just enough to hold you down.

“Be. Patient.” He growled again with a deeper tone.

He removed your shirt and bra in two swift motions. Matt didn’t waste any time roaming his hands over your body, committing every touch to memory.

Your breathing hitched as his fingers each ran over your peaked nipples. Rough yet gentle hands massaged your breasts. Matt rubbed his thumbs over the sensitive buds again if only to hear that lovely little gasp again. 

He took a moment to remember how this all started. As one hand teased its way down your stomach, the other took hold of your chin. 

“You are not nothing,” Matt said firmly. His fingers dipped beneath the fabric, undoing the button of your jeans. “I want you to say it.”

You bit your lip and tried to turn away, but his hold wouldn’t let you.

Matt kissed your lips then trailed his way to your chest, listening to your heart. 

“Please?” He kissed the skin in the valley of your breasts.

You breathed out a sigh. “I am not nothing.” 

“I know you can do better than that.” Matt trailed his kisses over the slope of your skin so that his lips hovered over your nipple. “Come on, sweetheart. I need you to believe it.”

“I am not nothing,” you said a little more confidently despite the hitch in your words when the tips of his fingers grazed your clit.

Matt nodded before taking your nipple into his mouth. Your jeans and panties were quick to join the rest of your clothes on the floor and his fingers pressed down on your bundle of nerves. 

You had to bite back another whine. Between his teeth tugging on your nipple and his fingertips beginning agonizingly slow circles, you were already coming apart at the seams. Each swirl of his tongue matched the motions against your clit. It ignited every one of your senses, enveloping you in him. 

Matt sucked a little harsher, eliciting the moan you were holding back. 

And he reveled in it. 

While Matt switched his attention to your other tit, he accelerated his circles on your clit. 

“God, Matt.” You finally moved your hands from where he’d placed them above your head and tangled them in his hair. 

He could hear your heartbeat quickening, hear the unevenness in your breathing as he wound you tighter and tighter with just the tips of his fingers. 

“That’s it,” he cooed, replacing his nipping and sucking with soft licks and kisses across your chest. You knew you’d have several marks in the morning, which excited you even more. Matt rubbed harder and faster. “That’s it, baby.”

Your climax crashed into you before you could prepare. Your hands pulled on his hair, loud whining gasp escaping your lips. Matt caught the sound in a kiss, letting it vibrate through him perfectly. He kept up his flicking, figure-eight motions to help you ride out the high. 

You tugged his bottom lip between your teeth, draping your arms around his neck. Closer. You needed him closer.

And yet, he pulled away. Matt smiled at your whimper, laying one hand on your cheek and bringing the other to his lips, licking your glisten from his fingers. You turned your head, taking two of his fingers in your mouth, sucking sweetly. 

Matt felt something snap inside him. With a deep rumble from his chest, he moved to stand at the foot of the bed, yanking you down to the edge. 

You sat up, hands reaching for his belt. You needed him. 

Matt pushed you back on the bed quick enough that you bounced on the mattress.

“Not yet,” he smirked, laying an arm across you to hold you down. There was something different about his smile. Something devilish.

Then he knelt in front of you. 

Your head fell back against the silk sheets as he bit your inner thigh, soothing the spot with his tongue. He did this up and down your legs, all the while holding you to the bed to keep your hips from bucking and giving you more friction than he allowed. 

“Ma-ah-” You gasped as his tongue finally swept up the length of your core. 

Matt’s head swam with every detail his heightened senses were taking in. From the taste of you to the way his name fell from your lips fueled his movements. He closed his lips over your clit, spelling your name into the sensitive nerves with his tongue- then spelling his own. 

Your core pulsed around nothing, tightening the more wrecked you with his mouth. 

“Fuck, Matthew,” you moaned. 

Matt lapped at your center, completely taken by the overwhelming burning inside him that you stoked with your noises and your scent and your taste. 

You almost screamed with the coming of your second climax, even more intense than the first. The ache inside of you just got worse as you gushed, still empty and needy. 

Matt drank in everything you gave him, pushing you as far as you could go. 

As he crawled back up to you, your limbs trembling and your heart racing, he kissed you gently, letting you taste yourself on his lips. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, afraid he’d gotten carried away. 

“I need more,” you pleaded, gulping down breaths. “Please, Matty?”

He smiled that devilish smile again. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Matty.” You keened, hands trying to reach again for him, but he held you firmly. “I need you inside me.” You pouted your lips. “I need you to hold me.”

Matt kissed you again, this time softer, trailing down your neck as he backed away to take off the rest of his clothes. 

You got just a glimpse of him before he laid you on your side and it was enough to have you aching even more. 

He laid beside you, holding your back to his chest. 

“Okay, baby.” 

Matt pushed inside of you, arms locked around your middle. He bit down on your shoulder to contain his moan while your breathless cry rang through the room. 

“So good, sweetheart,” he murmured, bringing his hips back. “You feel so good.”

“Just for you, M-Matt.” You laid your head back in the crook of his neck. 

Matt snapped his hips back, plunging his cock deeper inside your pulsing walls. “Atta girl.” 

You rutted back against him, every movement inside of you bringing a whimper with each brush of his shaft against the blinding spot within. 

Matt held you as close to his body as possible, making it harder to tell where he ended and you began. He slipped a hand up to wrap around your throat, turning your face to kiss you. His tongue claimed your mouth while he continued to rock in and out of you. In and out. A perfect, steady rhythm that stayed deep inside your core while being just slow enough to keep you wanting more. 

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Matt whispered, saying your name like a sacred prayer. 

“God, Matty,” you said, feeling his hand around your throat. “Matt, I’m-” You were cut off by a loud moan when he hit that spot that made you see stars even harder than before. 

“I know,” Matt cooed. “I know you want to give me another one. I know, sweetheart.” He gripped your neck a little tighter. “But I need you to wait a little longer.” 

“But Matty…” The hot coil inside you constricted more and more. 

“I know, baby,” he smirked against your jaw. “Here, I’ll count with you, okay?”

You tried to think past the haze of him. “O-okay, Matt.”

“Alright.” His free hand returned to your clit, making it even harder for you to hold back. “Count with me and I’ll let you come. One.”

You took a shaking breath. “One.”

“Two.”

“T-two.” 

This continued his thrusts, getting faster, leaving you both panting by the final count. 

“Ten,” Matt growled, nipping the back of your neck, having been struggling to hold on himself. 

“Ten,” you exclaimed. “Ten ten ten. Matt please.”

He wicked a line up to your ear, biting the soft flesh there. 

“Come for me, Y/N.”

You reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair again as overwhelming shocks of pleasure burned through you like wildfire. As Matt spilled into you, his hips stuttering against your ass, you stopped feeling anything else. Everything was this moment. 

Neither of you even had a moment to say anything, completely overcome by pleasant exhaustion. 

Matt cradled you to him and you fell asleep tangled with his body. He breathed in your scent, smiling as he let sleep take over him as well. 

-

You woke up to a warm sun and an empty bed. A moment of confusion clouded your tired mind before memories of the night flooded your senses. 

Seeing Sam at the bar.

The emptiness in your chest. The nothingness. 

Then coming here with Matt…

Matt.

“Oh God.” You sat up, silk sheets slipping over your skin. 

You had sex with Matt. Your best friend. Amazing, mind-blowing sex, but at what cost? Was one night worth screwing up years of friendship? And where was he? Was he so disgusted by what you’d done he couldn't bear to be around you anymore? 

Those fears consumed you as you scrambled to gather your things and get dressed. You found the living room empty, making your stomach sink even more. The thought hit you like a punch to the gut.

You screwed up the most important relationship in your life… all because you saw your ex at a bar. 

How you felt about Matt- feelings you were realizing you had- didn’t matter. You’d fucked everything up. 

Matt was climbing the stairs with coffee in hand when he heard the racing, panicked heart in his apartment from a floor down. One thought leaped to the front of his mind.

You regretted everything. 

With every hurried step, Matt grew more furious with himself. What was he thinking? He’d let his feelings for you get in the way during a difficult time and now you hated him for it. 

He would apologize. He had to. He couldn’t risk the relationship you already had. Even if it meant ignoring how he really felt. 

He opened the door with sorry on his lips, but you beat him to it.

“Oh thank God, you’re back,” you sighed. From your tone and the lingering salt in the air, he knew you’d been crying. His fault.

“It is my apartment,” he teased. If he could just get things back to how they were-

“I know, but when I woke up you were gone and-” You took a deep breath. “I understand if this makes things too complicated and you don’t want to speak to me again. I promise I didn’t plan any of this and-”

“Y/N, wait.” Matt interrupted, finally understanding. 

It wasn’t regret. 

It was fear. Like his. Only, you had just gone through something similar with Sam, which made everything even worse. 

“I know you have a lot going on,” you said, trying to hold it together. “I won’t add to that. Not over a-” The words stung as you said them. “Over a pity fuck.”

And just like last night, Matt’s heart broke for you.

“Is that what you thought it was?” Matt asked quietly. 

“I don’t know.” You fell back onto the couch and stared at your lap, unable to look at him anymore. “First everything with Sam now I’m going to lo-” You couldn’t finish, sucking in a breath to keep from crying. 

Matt crossed the living room and sat beside you. Slowly, carefully, he took your hand in his. He laid it on his chest so you could feel the steadiness of his heart. 

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said. 

You focused on that heartbeat. 

Matt moved his hands to cup your face. 

“Last night wasn’t about Sam or the breakup or the bar.” He wiped a tear away with his thumb. “Last night was about us. You and me. And we can make it mean whatever we want it to or nothing at all. But Y/N,” he sighed, “you are not going to lose me.”

You let his words sink in and made yourself believe them, at least right now.

Matt pulled you closer, gently pressing his lips to your forehead.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before you glanced at the table, finally taking in the scent of the coffee. 

“So that's where you disappeared to,” you laughed a little at yourself for panicking. 

Matt nodded, his hands falling to his lap. “Yeah, I was out and I know how you get without your caffeine.”

“Hey,” you snickered, poking his side.

“I knew I could get a smile.”

You blushed. “How do you even know?”

“Trust me,” he beamed. “I know.”

The two of you decided that you would figure it out at whatever pace you both needed. He was your best friend and you loved each other. And you would no matter what. Still, the prospect of being together, of taking your relationship a step further, excited both of you more than you admitted. 

There was, however, a promise Matthew had yet to keep…

So you had enchiladas for breakfast.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Am I Acting Weird?

Part II

I've been jogging on this treadmill for over an hour now. Cardio sucks, and I hate this old unventilated gym! When I joined the football team, I did it for the parties and cheerleaders! I just wanted to drink with the cool guys and get laid. I still do, but I haven't had a drop of alcohol in weeks. I can't even remember the last girl I hooked up with!

I used to think it was weird that I was suddenly working out all the time. It was like my entire personality had changed overnight.

I know it's not weird now. Max, my younger brother, told me so. I have to keep working out until I become the quarterback of the football team. Then I have to bulk up and train even more, so I can become a professional footballer. That's my new goal in life, and I can't wait for my little bro to be able to brag about being related to a pro athlete.

Sure, I never really wanted to play football professionally. If it were up to me, I'd be out drinking with my buds, but it's not up to me.

That's not weird right?

I shake my head and slow my aching legs. Droplets of sweat run down my face as I work to control my breathing. My whole body is sore from the conditioning. It doesn't help that this is my third workout of the day. Between my morning weight session, afternoon field practice, and this, I am totally whipped.

I stagger over to grab my workout gear. My night isn't over. I still have to bulk my stomach up for tomorrow.

With a frustrated sigh, I stomp out of the gym and march directly into the diner next door. I nod to the greasy cook behind the counter. I've become a regular here, so he knows me pretty well.

"The usual?" he grunts with a toothy grin.

I nod and sink into a booth.

Max, my little brother, got tired of me eating at the house. Apparently, it took our father too long to cook my bulking meals. Max has me eat here after my workouts, and I completely agree. Max shouldn't have to share our dad with me. He deserved to have someone at home cooking whenever he wanted to eat.

"Four burgers, fries, and a soda," the cook snickers as he slaps the tray in front of me, "A growing boy needs extra protein."

I grimace and turn away from the chef. His breath alone is enough to make me lose my appetite, but I take a big bite and swallow. I won't gain mass if I'm not consuming mass, and I obviously need to get bigger.

I've broken out into a second sweat by the time I'm done. Forcing myself to up, I have to adjust to my bloated waist. You'd think I'd get used to a packed stomach, but I always feel uncomfortable for the rest of the night.

I let out a belch and carry the dirty dishes to the back. It always feels weird strolling into an employees-only area like this, but it's part of how I get my meals for free. You see, the cook let's is nice as long as I take care of two things.

The dishes are the first thing.

"Leave the dishes," I hear his husky voice behind me, "I never wash 'em anyways."

I drop the dishes and turn the sink off, holding my gut as it growls in pain. My belly might ache, but I've got one more thing to do.

The cook watches me expectantly. He licks his chapped lips, and grabs at the bulge under his apron, between his two trunks of legs. He's already fishing the thing out. I know what he wants, so I drop to the floor. This has become just another part of my daily routine.

It's how I thank the chef.

I don't know how this became a habit, because I absolutely do not enjoy it! The man is filthy, and a man! I'm not gay! I like women, but I have to eat a lot to bulk up and Max liked the idea of me eating for free. It's not weird!

I let him manhandle me a bit, gripping my head and pulling my hair. The cook gets off faster if he roughs me up a little. He usually only lasts a few minutes, but it's the longest few minutes of the day.

It's not sex. It's just a transaction!

"Oh, yeah!" he growls with his eyes squeezed shut, "Yeah, boy! Fuck!"

I whip my head off his hairy crotch and jump to my feet. I spit into a napkin and wipe my mouth quickly. I know from experience that I won't be able to get the taste of sweat and meat out of my mouth until I brush my teeth thoroughly at home.

My part is finally done here, so I just want to leave!

"Can't wait to see you tomorrow morning, jocky boy!" he laughs, but I've already stormed out, marching down the street to my house. I'm trying not to think about how I'll be seeing him in a few hours for breakfast.

"Hey dad," I mumble, stepping inside.

"Boy," he answers dismissively, not even looking up from his work. As usual, he's wearing his home uniform: a suit and white gloves. I have a similar outfit for when I'm hanging around the house, but dad gets a lot more use out of his now that I'm constantly bulking up. Max is really the only one who seems to dress casually around here anymore.

I guess that makes him the weird one.

"What are you doing?" I ask, trying to start up a conversation.

"What's it look like, boy?" he answers gruffly, "I'm cleaning up after Max and his guests. Now, either get your uniform on and help or get out of my way."

His attitude makes me cringe a bit. Dad and I used to be really tight. We used to bond over sports and craft beer, but he doesn't really care about anything besides Max anymore.

I don't think he's gone to any of my games for the last few months. He's always cooking or cleaning for Max. I wish I understood. We used to tease Max all the time together, but now he gets angry anytime I try and bond with him. Like, it's totally normal and right for Max to be his new favorite, but I wish we could still chat every now and then.

"Sorry," I mutter.

My father ignores me and heads off to the kitchen in a rush. He looks erratic, and I can tell he's just as exhausted as I am. He's made it a habit of working extra hours at the office everyday. It's so he can bring home the biggest paycheck he can earn every week, but I know is affecting his sleep.

"Where is Max?" I ask.

My dad frowns, tersely responding, "Max took his guests to a movie in my car. The house needs to be clean and snacks need to be ready for when Max gets back."

"Oh," I sigh, "Are his friends staying over again? I'd stay up with you and help serve them, but Max said I should be getting nine hours of sleep every night."

"Go to bed, boy. I'll handle it," he states firmly, putting the final touches on the silver platter.

With that, my father picks up the tray of assorted snacks and walks them out into the living room. There he takes his place by the door and stands in his usual position. It's where he normally waits to welcome Max home everyday. Father and I know that someone like Max shouldn't have to put their own coat away or take off their own shoes.

"Alright, dad, see you tomorrow."

He doesn't answer. He's already standing still as a statue and probably won't move until Max gets back. Hopefully, my little brother won't keep him up too late.

Sleep won't be hard for me to find. I can barely keep my eyes open, and I pass out as soon as I fall on my bed. The rest of the night is a deep and dreamless void, while my stomach processes all the food I ate.

When I wake up, I find dad like this...

"Dad? Dad!" I give his shoulder a nudge.

He jumps to life, jerking his eyes around the trashed living room.

"Did you fall asleep standing up?"

"Maybe," he answers with shock, "Max had me holding everyone's coats while they enjoyed some beer. They must have moved to the bed while I drifted off."

"Aren't they a little young for beer?"

"Max and his guests are welcome to my alcohol whenever they want it!" he snaps back at me.

"Geez, ok."

"You have a workout you need to get to, boy," he barks, "And I'm going to have to hurry if I'm going to clean up this mess before work."

I stare at my father as he scrambles to clean up the living room once again. He looks even more exhausted and disheveled than last night. Hopefully, he would be able to clean everything up with enough time to shower and shave. I know that all of the household stuff is his responsibility, but sometimes it seems like too much.

With a shrug, I turn and step out of the door. My day is going to be the same miserable routine as the last. I'm not looking forward to any of it, but that's not weird. Like Max said, I'll just keep my head down, and power through.