#don’t make sound on the floor if they don’t want

[kafkasmuses]

KITTY KAT — art donaldson + reader : art has a tendency to show up late to your lessons. 

tags: mdni, tennis lessons, coach!art donaldson, p in v sex, fingering, art is kind of an asshole, cheating (not on reader) 

a/n: sorry to tashi… this goes out to my dear @murdrdocs

thirty minutes ago. 

art donaldson was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, your teeth grit against each other, foot tapping impatiently against the concrete floor below you. 

art was a sweet guy, sure, but his time management was beyond infuriating. it almost made you feel like he thought himself above you, like you weren’t worth his time. 

“one to talk,” you mumble to yourself, dragging your racket on the ground, “rich from the guy who was coached by his wife.” 

ahem. 

you spin around, and of course, he’s standing right there, looking the same as he always does. his dirty blonde hair was messed up and falling over his eyebrows, blue eyes, with a mix of brown, staring directly at you with an almost amused expression. 

you blink at him, once, twice. 

a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “sorry for being late.” 

it sounds condescending, like he would never actually mean it, especially not after what he heard, it felt like a sort of karma for what you were previously saying about him. 

and he knows that, of course he does, so he masks it with a sense of sweetness, one that would typically gaslight people into thinking they’ve been forgiven, but you know better. 

you’ve been coached by art for a while now, and his little habits became far too predictable. this was odd, though, you couldn’t make out the glint in his eye, especially when you mumble a, “sorry, i didn’t mean—“  

“let’s get started, yeah?” art cuts in, bitter, yet his voice still sounded like it was dipped in honeysuckle.

he whisks right past you with that same, tugged up smirk, he reeked of rich cologne and mint. 

your lips press together and you silently, albeit ashamed, nod in agreement. 

maybe silence will earn points back from your coach. 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

silence did not earn anything. 

art served hard, hit the ball hard, it was as if he wanted to make the ball break through your racket and hit you square in the face. he clearly took your miniscule words personally, and he was testing you, trying to break you down, to see how much you could take until your bones turned soft and you felt like giving up. 

the first time you called a pause, art smiled, “don’t tell me you’re giving up.” 

“pause,” you repeat through heaved breaths, sweat sticking to your skin underneath the relentless sun. art had that same playful look in his eyes that he always did, he knew that what he was doing was working, he knew that he was getting under your skin, and as cruel as it sounds, he really did enjoy it. 

if you ever were to ask him about it, he’d just shrug and say it’s all a part of the practice, it always happens in tennis, especially professional, he’s just preparing you. but deep down, he really just wanted to say that he was doing it for those reasons but for his own personal pleasures, karma comes in many forms, but art picks the harshest form first. 

he watches you drink water with a desperate urgency, stifling his own chuckles, “you sure you’re okay?” 

“‘m fine,” you speak after gulping down the last drop, finally satisfied, “let’s keep going.” 

art’s brows furrow ever so slightly, but as soon as you’re back to being ready, he rolls the tennis ball in his hand a little, observing it, before throwing it up in the air and sending it your way. he’s so casual with every hit, despite his grunts and the way his nose scrunches whenever ball meets racket, he makes it look like it’s nothing. 

to make it even worse, he starts trying to conversate between passes, “you know—“ smack! another grunt leaves his lips, “it’s really rude to—“ smack! “speak about people behind their—“ smack! “fuck.. backs.” 

you’re so busy trying to decipher his words you almost miss the next hit, but thankfully you snap out of the trance quick enough to hit it last minute, which he chuckles at and quickly sends it back. 

smack! “‘m sorry, art, really—“ your shoes scratch against the concrete below, smack! “i was being very—“ smack! “childish, i apologize.” 

he hums, content with your apologies, but still not outwardly saying he forgives you, instead his hits start to soften, he’s less trying to kill you with the ball and now rather trying to actually play tennis. “you’re all good—“ he confirms, smack! “just make it up to me, yeah?” 

ball meets floor, his words had completely caught you off guard, and you missed your hit on the ball he sent your way. you felt almost stupid, standing there, staring at him and trying to decipher what he meant by making it up to him. 

and of course, he didn’t elaborate, he never did, he simply just picked up another ball, smiled at you, and said, “ready?” 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

art said he forgave you, right? 

ever since that day, he’s been acting.. off. he was more focused on your figure now, not in a crude way, but in a way where he wanted you to position yourself correctly when playing. he watches you serve the ball, then his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek and he stands, “hey, hey, wait a second— your uh… your stance is wrong.” 

“it is?” it was the fifth time he’s corrected you, today, and it’s safe to say you were getting annoyed, he picked up on the bitterness of your tone as he approached you. 

“‘ts not my fault, kitty cat,” he shrugged simply, noticing the way your eyes narrow in frustration at his nickname, he only smiles. he leans in behind you, “may i?” his hands are ghosting over your arms from behind. 

“whatever helps,” you remark. 

“good,” it’s softly spoken at the shell of your ear, making you swallow thick, his fingers wrap around your wrist, other one holding your fingers grip on the racket’s handle. his grip is tight, yet gentle at the same time, veins flexing against his flesh with every movement as he helps you move into the right position. “just gotta.. do it like this,” he’s still whispering against your ear, nearly making your knees buckle. 

once he’s satisfied with your position, which is far too quick for your liking, he backs off and lets you serve the ball again. he smiles once he’s gotten what he’s wanted, “perfect.” 

eventually, after a while of hitting the ball, you decided to take a break. there was a silence between you and art, a tension you couldn’t place, you had nothing to blame it on, nothing to apologize for, and he constantly looked like he was trying to say something indescribable. 

“hey,” he starts, before tugging his bottom lip under his tongue for a mere second before continuing, “remember when i said you had to make it up to me?” 

you stare at him, curious, “yeah, of course.” 

“you know,” his hands smooth over each other, skin underneath his right eye twitching as his pupils dilate in thought, “i’ve been having a.. problem, lately.” 

“with tennis?” 

“nono,” he laughs nervously, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “it’s personal, y’know? well— not entirely, since ‘m telling you, but uh— actually, nevermind.” 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

you and art hadn’t discussed much after the last meet, you found yourself standing in the court yet again, whilst he was no short of an hour late at this point. you wanted to ask him what his deal is lately, what his problem is, but he wasn’t even here to be questioned. it was almost ridiculous, like he was toying with you. 

“i like your skirt,” it comes out of nowhere, but it’s the same, smooth voice that art holds. 

yet again, you find yourself spinning around to meet him, he’s closer, now, clearly eyeing you— but that’s.. weird, is it not? he has a wife, he shouldn’t be complimenting your obviously short skirt, or eyeing you like that, or wishing to tell you things that he had apparently not told anyone else because it’s personal. but who are you to question his relationship? maybe he’s just.. being nice, really. 

“thank you,” you offer, nice, short, sweet. 

he rolls his shoulder, meeting your eyes, flickering his gaze to your lips for a mere second, then saying nothing and walking by. rich cologne and mint. that’s what wafts into your senses immediately, as if it was some sort of distraction from his odd behaviors. 

“do you always call people kitty cat?” you eventually ask him, it was something you’d been wondering, truly, especially since you’ve never been called that before. 

“to pretty girls with an attitude, yeah,” art says it so casually. 

“like your wife?” 

“like you.” 

art corrected you. 

he corrected you, and his correction didn’t annoy you like how they always did, it made your stomach churn in a way you couldn’t decipher, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. you liked it, maybe, but isn’t that so sickening? art seems to think no big deal of his own words, as he doesn’t even react, so you try to be nonchalant about it as well. 

the whole entire test match you play with him, he has a certain glint in his eye, his grunts are louder, his shorts look tighter, he looks like he’s having some sort of reaction to playing tennis, to playing tennis with you. your tongue runs along your lips between breaks, noticing the way his eyes linger on it, the way his pupils widen at the shine of saliva over your lips with each swipe. 

at the third break, art was convinced you were doing this on purpose. 

“why do you keep doing that?” he asks as he’s walking over to grab his water bottle, right where you’re sitting on the concrete floor. you blink up at him, watching him hover the bottle near his lips and squirt the water into his mouth. did he always look this good when sweaty? 

gosh, maybe you’re just tired, maybe your mind is just foggy. 

“what?” you frown, confused. 

“licking your lips,” he speaks after swallowing the water, towering over you. his muscles were nearly bursting out of his white t-shirt with every movement, especially when he puts his water bottle down and crosses his arm, head cocking to the side. sweat causes some of his hair strands to stick to his forehead, lips puffy from how much he bites them when playing. 

“my lips are dry,” you explain, so simple. 

“yeah?” again, another smile, he had to be toying with you, “do you need some other help with that?” 

“what do you mean?” 

art hums, not explaining anything when he opens his mouth and swipes his thumb along his tongue, moving down to rub the saliva from his tongue onto your lips, memorizing the pillowy soft touch. your eyes widen, slightly, “art, this is—“ 

“not helping?” art tuts in faux disappointment, mumbling a small, ‘why don’t i..’ before he leans down further, licking his own lips and getting closer and closer until his lips are brushing against yours. 

“wrong,” you mumble out, but you sound unsure, like you don’t really believe what you just said, you don’t think this is wrong, you’ve always thought art was attractive, it was his wife that kept your crush on him at bay. you mumble against his lips, “you have a wife, art..” 

“do i?” he smirks against your lips, a near chuckle slipping out, “i must’ve forgotten.” 

“art,” it sounds like a warning, but again, you wanted nothing less than for his lips to fall against yours right now. 

“make it up to me, yeah? remember that?” his hand moves to hold your cheek, tipping your head up at him, eyes meeting yours in such close proximity, “i’ve got some marriage problems right now, so why don’t you play wife for me, hm?” 

you nod at him, ever so slightly, he clocks it immediately, and that’s his que. his eyes flutter shut, and he’s leaning in only a mere centimeter before his lips fall against yours. the kiss is soft at first, sweet, new, but then art starts taking the lead, and it quickly becomes something on the faint lines of cannibalism, he kissed you like he wanted to eat you, like he loved you. 

when he said he wanted you to play wife, he wasn’t lying. 

he pries your lips open with his own before his tongue makes it’s way inside your mouth, tasting the peppermint of your gum on your own tongue, memorizing the noisy breaths that leave your mouth and move into his. your nails are quick to run along his arms, making him pull back to speak, “hold on, kitty cat.” 

“you call your wife kitty cat?” you watch him peel off his sweaty shirt from his skin. 

he tosses the shirt to the side, exhaling a breath that showed he hated the feeling of the wet fabric on his skin, “mm, i call you kitty cat, ‘nd you’re playing my wife, so.” 

“right,” you agree, letting his cold hands brush against your skin when he takes your clothes off of you, of course looking at you for approval beforehand, which you nod to. 

“did you start wearing shorter skirts on purpose?” art questions when his fingers reach the waistband of your skirt, ever so slowly dipping underneath. 

“no, ‘course not,” you speak breathlessly, feeling his fingers move under your underwear as well until his fingertips meet your clit. you swallow thick, lashes fluttering as he starts moving his fingers in an almost cruel slowness. 

“look at me,” he whispers a simple command, free hand holding your chin and forcing you to look at him. his fingers move further down, immediately feeling how wet you are, he chuckles in surprise, “god, you’re this wet for a married man, huh?” 

“for my husband,” you mumble out, playing the part. 

“that’s right,” his middle finger circles your entrance for a second before ever so slowly dipping it inside. he watches your lips fall apart, the way your eyes get glossed over, the way your hips push up against his finger. “needy.” 

he doesn’t take long to push another finger in, letting go of your chin so he could guide your hand to his clothed cock, hard and pushing against his flimsy shorts. as soon as you start rubbing his dick through the fabric, his breath shudders slightly, as if he’s been waiting too long for like, as if he hasn’t had sexual pleasure in weeks. 

soon enough, only a mere minute or two in of foreplay, art gets antsy and he has to have his dick inside of you, he pries his fingers from your cunt and takes your skirt off next. “lay down for me, yeah?” he smiles at the fact that you do it immediately, even spreading your legs for him. 

he hisses at the feeling when his bare knees meet the concrete floor below, harsh on his skin, he tugs his shorts and boxers down ever so slightly until his cock is finally freed. you inhale sharply upon seeing it, he had a big dick. he spits in his hand, coating his dick with a grunt before he finally lines himself up with your entrance. 

“ready?” he hushes out. 

“yeah, yeah,” you’re barely able to finish the last yeah before his dick is moving into you, his nose scrunching from the tightness of your walls around him, it’s like you were purposefully squeezing his cock with an attempt to milk him dry already. 

“fuck,” he grunts out, pulling back, then moving back in, earning a pathetic moan from your lips. it sounds like music to his ears, so he keeps going, his thrusting was slow at first, gentle, kind— but just like the test matches, or the kiss, he gets hungry, and he wants more. 

his thrusts turn relentless almost immediately, maybe even like he was taking out some sorts of sexual frustrations out on your poor cunt. whimpers, whines, moans, all of those leave your lips, matching up with the grunts and the occasional whimper from his own mouth as well. 

sex was intoxicating for art, and there was something so dangerous, so forbidden about this, you weren’t really his wife, he was married to another woman, he was solely your coach. some sick part of art loves that, maybe that’s why he leans down and starts nipping at your neck, sucking at the delicate skin until maroon and blackberry starts blooming on the blank canvas. 

“art, oh my god,” you moan out, hands moving to scratch at his bare back, and maybe art should be smart enough to tell you not to leave marks, but he lets your nails dig in as his thrusts get harsher, surely drawing blood, or at least noticeable scratches. 

in fact, the feeling of you tearing into his skin only makes his orgasm come on faster, soon enough wracking his body and making his hips stutter. he keeps going though, despite the overstimulation that makes him pathetically whine softly, just until you’ve reached your own orgasm. 

he pulls out, panting, smirking down at you, “thanks, kitty cat.” 

#୨୧ (jules yapping) .ᐟ #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #mike faist #mike faist x reader #mike faist x you #art donaldson smut #art donaldson challengers #challengers #challengers smut #mike faist smut #mike faist challengers

[bunniehrtz]

“Touch me while your bros play grand theft auto” with Abby 😵‍💫😵‍💫

cw: cockwarming, titplay, risky business in front of your friends

i need to re-listen to the anthology

they’d been playing for hours. all 6 of them. abby, manny, owen, mel, nora and leah. you didn’t want to join in, you didn’t care about this game. didn’t see the appeal. however, you saw the appeal in abby’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, your head against her chest. you were getting restless and needy, as always. abby notices. she puts the controller down, everyone turning to look at her. you and abby were on an armchair, manny and leah on a sofa and owen, mel and nora on a duvet on the floor. “one second, just gotta do something,” abby says, picking you up to place you on her lap. you’re cuddling under a blanket, now feeling incredibly grateful. you gasp lightly as the bulge you’re sat on top of. your eyes go wide, looking up at abby. she smirks, picking the controller back up. you sink back down onto her chest, trying to ignore the ache in your core.

“anyone else want to play?” she asks, your eyes almost perking up at the question. manny takes the controller from her, everyone gazing at the screen, or their phones. her hands grip your hips, clearing her throat as she leans in to whisper in your ear. “don’t make a sound,” she bucks her hips up gently. your eyes shut at the feeling, biting down on your bottom lip. you hide your face in the crook of abby’s neck. leah spots this from the corner of her eye, furrowing her brows at you. “she’s okay, tired,”

abby says for you, and she looks back at the screen. abby lifts your hips up gently, pulling her silicone cock from her sweatpants. she leans back in. “you’re going to sit on this dick until i tell you to get off. okay, baby?” she orders, you nod immediately. abby peels off your pyjama shorts and your underwear, pushing you back down on her dick so, very gently. you have to bite down on abby’s shoulder to stop a moan escaping your mouth. the feeling of your teeth on her skin makes abby gasp and she quickly covers it with a cough. you let out a tiny giggle that forces abby to push you down. “abby!” you scream. you cover your mouth quickly, looking over your shoulder at everyone. no one even looked. “naughty girl,” she whispers, her hands coming off and out of the blanket, now behind her head. your eyes roll back, the sight of her toned biceps forcing you back into hiding.

minutes that feel like hours pass until abby’s hands snake back under the blanket, making their way past your hips, where you expected them to stay, up into your shirt. she starts kneading, groping your tits while maintaining a conversation like it’s nothing. her calm, soft face drives you crazy. you look up at her, trying to get her attention. nothing. your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, you can’t dare open them. your breathing is heavy and if anyone were to turn around they’d see you both moving up and down with each breath. each soft whimper that leaves your mouth is punished by a pinch to your nipple, only almost forcing another out. “so needy. just wait until everyone’s asleep and i’ll fuck you so good, baby. gotta wait for it.”

#the last of us #abby anderson #tlou #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson smut #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby x reader smut #the last of us abby #tlou abby #abby x you #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson the last of us #the last of us smut

[mochidolls]

imagine coming back home and seeing Ellie play dress up with ur daughter and she goes all out and wears something stupid like fairy wings and a tutu just to make ur daughter smile I’m gonna cry and vomit

n : literally made me shed a tear while writing this. i changed up a bit pooks, hope this does your request justice!

click for palestine / please read (important!!) / how you can help palestine

the news of the pregnancy with yours and ellie’s second child wasn’t much a surprise to either of you. you and ellie both had been trying for a couple of months, being on and off doctors appointments for ivf, facing multiple negative tests much to your anticipation. now that you had finally conceived it was all you and ellie spoke about. the nursery, what gender the baby was, how excited you were that your little princess would be a big sister.

initially your daughter was gleed at the fact that she was going to be a big sister, but that wasn’t to say that jealousy didn’t creep in. ihe wasn’t the main centre of your attention anymore and she was albeit a little spiteful of her new sibling.

“look, he’s trying to say hi.” ellie nudges the toddler as the newborn yawned, his eyes moving over to his older sister and you could’ve sworn a small smile crept up his lips. yhe sight made your heart swell, it was just too adorable.

“you wanna say hi bubs?” you asked sage, which the 3 year old did what you did not expect.

“no! he’s annoying and i don’t like him! i. don’t. wanna!” sage replied, crossing her arms with a pout before stomping her foot on the floor and storming out the bedroom.

the two of you watched your daughter storm out the room, and looked over each other with baffled but knowing expressions. your daughter's jealous behaviour did not go unnoticed by the two of you. sensing the rather tense air within the room, the newborn within your arms began to fuss and you shot your wife a look.

“‘m going, i’m going.” ellie sighed as she stood up, walking out the bedroom to possibly help cheer up your daughter while you tend to your son.

as ellie disappeared to calm down sage, you turned your attention back to your son, cradling him gently against your chest. his tiny fingers curled around yours, and you couldn't help but marvel at how perfect he seemed, despite his occasional fussiness.

he blinked up at you with his wide, innocent eyes, and you couldn't resist smiling down at him. being a parent was simultaneously exhausting and exhilarating, but moments like these made it all worth it.

ellie tapped gently on her daughter's bedroom door, the sound echoing softly in the quiet hallway. "sage?" she called out in her tender voice, a hint of concern lacing her words. receiving no immediate response, she pushed the door open with a delicate touch, allowing it to creak open just a fraction.

"i'm coming in, kay?" she announced softly, stepping into the room with a gentle sway.

inside, she found sage huddled on her bed, her small frame folded in on itself, arms wrapped tightly around her chest. her little face scrunched up in distress, a pout gracing her lips, and her furrowed eyebrows adding to the adorable sight. despite the cuteness, ellie knew there was something troubling her precious daughter.

"hey, princess, can we talk?" ellie asked as she made her way to sage's bed, her steps light and careful. sitting down beside her daughter, she gently nudged the toddler with her elbow.

"you want to tell me why you said that to your brother?" she asked, her voice a soft murmur filled with warmth and understanding.

her heart clenching at the sudden but faint sniffle she heard from the little girl. "hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?" ellie asked, pulling sage into a comforting hug as the tears began to flow. she began to rub Sage's back in gentle circles, hoping to offer some comfort and reassurance.

"i made you and mommy mad," sage finally confessed, her voice trembling. prompting ellie to quickly reassure her. "of course not, we're not mad, just... a bit confused by your sudden outburst," ellie explained, feeling a bit out of her depth with one-on-one talks. that was always your domain.

sage continued to cry into ellie's chest, her sobs growing louder, and ellie wracked her brain for a way to calm her down. finally, an idea struck her, and she blurted it out without much forethought.

"hey, how about…you apologize to mommy and your brother, and then we can…uh, dress up and have a tea party? fairy wings and everything yeah?" she suggested with a gentle smile, hoping to lift sage's spirits.

sage's eyes widened in surprise at the suggestion, her tears starting to slow as a glimmer of hope flickered in her gaze. "rweally?" she asked, her voice wavering with uncertainty. wllie nodded with a warm smile, cupping sage's cheek in her hand. "mhm really. how’s that?"

"okay..." sage sniffled softly, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. slowly, she climbed off ellie's lap, her small hand slipping into ellie's as they made their way back to the bedroom where you and your newborn son were.

with a soft knock on the door, interrupting your cooing at the baby, they entered the room, and your gaze instantly fell to your wife’s before meeting the remorseful eyes from your three year old.

sage entered the room, walking over and standing nervously by your side of the bed, fidgeting with her hands, her gaze downcast with guilt — a habit all too similar to your wife’s. like mother, like daughter.

sage stood by your side, fidgeting nervously with her hands, her gaze downcast with guilt. "’m sorry for being mean to brother, mommy," she apologized softly, her voice barely above a whisper. your heart melted at her words, and you a gentle ’c’mere’ escaping your lips as you waved her over and quickly pulled her into a tender embrace as she climbed onto the bed and lay on your side, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead.

"it's okay, sweetheart. i love you so much, y’know that?" you whispered, your voice filled with warmth and affection. "i love you too, mommy," sage replied, a soft smile gracing her lips as she returned your embrace. with a kiss to her baby brother's head, she then jumped off from the bed before running towards ellie, who scooped her up in her arms with ease, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"what are you two up to now?" you asked with a playful smile, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

"tea party!" sage exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she wrapped her arms around ellie's neck.

“and you're not invited," ellie quipped, both of them sticking their tongues out at you playfully before leaving the room with sage in tow, the sound of their laughter echoing softly in their wake.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie fluff #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams tlou

[mochiwrites]

Jellie tends to be a very curious cat, sometimes. She likes poking her nose into places it doesn’t belong, or snatching things from Scar and Grian when they catch her interest.

Maybe Scar should’ve known better, then.

He sits in his and Grian’s bedroom (it’s been theirs pretty much after the second month Scar moved in), a ring in his hands. The metal is cool against his palm, a soft rose gold. The band isn’t anything special, a simple engraving in it. Scar knew Grian would throw a fit if he found out Scar spent so many diamonds on the ring. So he tried to get something reasonable.

He can spoil Grian with the actual ring.

If he says yes, that is. Just the thought makes a shiver run of Scar’s spine. Is he really doing this? He and Grian have only been together for a year and a half, but Scar just knows that he’s the one. There isn’t any doubt in his mind about it. But does Grian feel the same?

Jellie jumps up on the bed next to Scar, meowing at him. She brushes her head against his arm as she settles beside him, and Scar smiles. “Well hello there beautiful lady. Are we requesting pets?” he teases as he brushes a hand through her fur. She curls up close to him, leaning into his touch. Scar sighs softly, scratching behind her ear. “I don’t know Jellie… do you think he’ll say yes?” he asks quietly. She stares blankly up at him. “Yeah okay, fair enough.”

Past their bedroom, the front door opens and shuts. “Scar, I’m home!”

Scar jumps up, disturbing a content Jellie. He shoots her an apologetic look, giving her one last pet. But the most crucial piece?

He makes the mistake of leaving the engagement ring on the bed.

As Scar walks out the room to greet his boyfriend, Jellie takes to making their bed her own. Yet as she moves, the shiny ring catches her attention. She tilts her head, curious about the shiny object. Sticking a paw out, she swats it. Again. And again. And again. Until the ring tips over the side of the bed, dropping to the floor with a ‘plop.’

Her pupils widen in that playful way they tend to do, wiggling before she pounces.

Oblivious to what his cat is doing, Scar is sweeping his boyfriend into a hug. “How was work?” he questions, looking down at Grian with a curious yet soft gaze.

“Tiring,” Grian huffs, content to melt into Scar’s grasp. He lifts his arms, returning the embrace as he does so. “I had to remake the blueprint at least five times until the guy was happy with it.”

Scar winces, “Eesh. Now I’m kind of glad he only wanted you to meet with him.”

Grian glowers at him in return, though the look is entirely playful. “Yeah, yeah.” He leans up, brushing their lips together in a soft kiss. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“I think I will, thank you.” Scar grins, stealing a kiss. “How does a movie and dinner sound?” He bumps their noses together as he smiles.

“Let me think about it,” Grian hums, booping his nose against Scar’s as he does so. “As long as there’s ice cream after.”

Scar lets out an affronted gasp, pulling away. “I’m offended you think there wouldn’t be ice cream after all!” he says as he walks toward the kitchen. “Go sit! I’ll grab the takeout leftovers.”

Laughing, Grian takes his shoes off and heads over into their living room. He finds Jellie there, playing with something caught between her paws. He fondly shakes his head at her, “What do you have now, miss?”

Jellie looks up at him with a meow as she swats at whatever it is she’s deemed her new toy, chasing at it. However, said mystery object knocks into Grian’s foot, and he gets it first.

Leaning down, Grian picks up what appears to be a rose gold ring. He inspects it in his hand, eyebrows knit together as he does. “Where did this come from?” He blinks at it, looking down at Jellie. “Did you rob someone?”

Jellie sits in front of him, slowly blinking. The perfect picture of innocence.

Shaking his head with a faint laugh, Grian looks at the ring again. His heart skips a beat as he really takes in the detail of it. He certainly didn’t buy it. Did Scar? And if he did then….

Heart a little louder, he turns to his boyfriend. “Hey, Scar?”

“Yes, love of my life?”

“Any clue what this is?”

Scar walks into the living room, the soft crackles of a furnace behind him. He pauses when he notices what Grian is holding in his hand. His eyes go wide, looking a little pale. To the side of Grian, he spots the movement of Jellie’s tail, and looks directly at her. “Traitor,” he mutters.

“Scar?” Grian questions, confused and… maybe a bit nervous.

“Haha uh… any chance we can forget this all happened and revisit it like. Next month?” Scar weakly chuckles, the epitome of nerves as he looks at Grian.

“What’s going on?” Grian’s brows furrow in confusion, a bit of concern leaking into his expression.

Scar knows trying to lie about it is practically pointless. Grian is too curious and too stubborn to let it go. And now that he’s seen the ring… Scar takes in a shaky breath. “Void, alright. Guess we’re doing this.”

He walks over to Grian, “May I?” He gestures for the ring, and Grian slowly nods. He hands the ring over to Scar, who accepts it with shaking hands. “Okay.” Scar sucks in a breath, unbelieving that he’s really doing this right now.

Slowly, Scar drops down on one knee in front of Grian, watching the way the other’s eyes go wide. But something about the position doesn’t feel quite right. Brows furrowing, Scar sets his other knee on the carpet below. “G? Mind kneeling with me here?” he asks, to which Grian nods. He joins Scar on the carpet, kneeling with him as well. “Much better,” he hums, pleased.

“Scar what?” Grian questions, lost and confused, and goodness his heart is beating so fast.

“I uh, I had a whole thing planned out, but Jellie seems to have thrown a wrench into all that,” Scar chuckles. “But it’s fine! I can improvise, who needs a plan?” He does. He needs a plan. Shaking his head, Scar reaches for one of Grian’s hands, grasping it in his own. He takes a measured breath, and begins to speak.

“I love you. More than words will ever be able to describe, G. You’ve done so much for me, more than I think I’ll ever be able to thank you for. You found me on the street, and despite being scammed by me, you still offered me a roof to live under, and a home to heal in.” Grian’s eyes are focused on him, listening with rapt attention. His gaze only worsens Scar’s nerves, heart beating a mile a minute. “You’re stubborn and witty, and sometimes you steal the blanket from me.”

Grian laughs.

Scar loves the sound.

“You don’t let me wallow in self pity, or memories of the harder times. You’re endlessly kind to both myself and Jellie, and everyone around you, even if your patience runs a little thin and you get snippy. We may get into a minor disagreement here and there, but you always come back around to me.” Scar smiles softly at him, so painfully fond and loving. “Back on that world… I never thought I would get to live life again. Or even enjoy the night sky without being afraid. It felt like a part of me was always missing, but I found that part with you.”

“Scar…” Grian trails off, face going red.

“G, you’re my home, my light. I want to spend every day waking up next to you and messing up pancake batter with you,” Scar laughs, the sound wet and shaky. Grian laughs with him, sounding just as affected. “I want to hold you on your bad days, and on your good ones. I want to be there through everything, for the rest of our lives. You’ve reminded me what it’s like to live and love, what it’s like to be me. There’s no one else for me, my heart and souls are yours.”

Scar swallows, holding the ring out to him. “So… will you entangle your life with mine forever? And marry me?” His expression turns bashful as he asks, and Grian is red in the face.

“You…” he trails off, amazed and in disbelief all at once. He looks between Scar and the ring, and he shakes his head. “I’ve been trying for days to find the perfect way of proposing to you, and you go and pull the rug right out from under me,” he laughs. “Curse how perfect you are sometimes.”

“C’mon G, you’re really leaving me hanging here!” Scar whines at him, making Grian laugh all over again.

Grian wraps his arms around Scar’s shoulders, pressing their lips together. “Yes, you spoon. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

If their neighbors hear how loudly Scar yells, well… it’s a warm congratulations to the newly engaged couple.

Jellie watches her humans cry in each others arms, tail flicking lazily at her side. She better get extra treats for this.

(It’s only later, when they’re sitting on the couch, curled into each other, that Scar realizes what Grian said. He turns to him, “Wait, you were planning to propose too?”

Grian snorts with laughter, “Hadn’t even picked out a ring, but yes Scar, I was.”)

#mochi writes #secret husbands au #scarian #hermitshipping #don’t mind me just sobbing and wailing #they make me SO??????? #the softness. I am Melting

[pinksturniolo]

Versus - Chris and Matt Sturniolo

Chris x Matt and Fem Reader

polyamorous: characterized by or involved in the practice of engaging in multiple romantic (and typically sexual) relationships, with the consent of all the people involved.

or also defined as: the relationship you, matt and chris have built. it started out as an innocent game of truth or dare one night which turned into much more than you could have ever imagined. trust, respect, and honesty. these are the three rules set in place that are strictly to be followed.

but what happens when they just don't want to share you after all?

content warnings: poly relationship, not much plot to this one, heavy smut, fingering, oral fem receiving, mentions of a threesome (no incest thats just gross), edging, lots of fluff, angst, !matt vs. chris!, manipulation, jealousy

a/n: this was requested by an anon a while ago, so s/o to them!!

word count: 5,436

You just couldn’t choose. From the moment you met them it was a constant battle in your head of who you preferred. And you just could not decide. You loved them both. Which is why you had proposed the idea of a polyamorous relationship 6 months ago.

This came as an extremely difficult task. You found it hard to even muster the courage to bring it up to them. You had no experience with this type of relationship, nor had the thought even crossed your mind until that night. When you had a taste of what it would be like to have them both all to yourself.

“I dare you to kiss me.” You slurred, the taste of cherry vodka lingering on your tongue. The words seemed to escape your mouth before your brain could even process.

Your heart races in fear at what you just blurted, Matt looking at you with wide eyes. Previously the dares were innocent, and the truths were simple questions. Just a harmless game being played between three best friends.

There’s a temporary moment of silence before Chris speaks up. “Don’t be a pussy. I will if you don’t.”

Matt’s shocked expression turns into a glare at his threat, causing him to move closer to you from his spot on the shaggy rug of your bedroom floor.

He takes in the look of apprehension on your face, placing a light touch to your knee. “Are you sure, Y/N?”

You can’t really take back the dare now. Even if you did, it would definitely be brought up later, when you three were sober and trying to explain where your sudden boost of confidence came from would just be embarrassing.

Besides, it’s not like you haven’t thought about Matt’s lips on yours before. And other places.

So, you say yes and place a hand on his jaw as he hovers his mouth over yours. He pauses for a few seconds to look into your eyes and then kisses you, a light moan escaping your throat as soon as your lips touch his.

You don’t mean for the sound to be heard but it’s almost like a reflex, because the electric feeling of his soft lips against your plush ones instantly has your head spinning in a good way, and a throb starting in your core.

Chris hears this, his eyes locked on your face and the way your tongue slips out to touch Matt’s. This is forbidden territory, watching his brother make out with a girl that he’s pined over since the moment he laid eyes on her. But he feels a need for you growing inside him that he just can’t ignore.

He wants to kiss you too, and not just that, he wants to make you moan for him in the way you just did for Matt. In fact, he knows he can do so much more. He can have you screaming his name by the end of the night, so that you forget his brother even existed.

And Matt… well he’s completely forgotten Chris is even in the room at this point. He kisses you in the way he’s been dreaming of every night. His hand moves from your knee to your upper thigh, feeling goosebumps on your skin. The little sounds you make only fuel his fire, the bulge in his pants growing tighter and tighter by the second.

He finally pulls away, and you’re breathless, your eyes lingering on Matt’s before looking over to Chris. His eyes are dark, staring at your puffy lips and flushed face.

“My turn.”

Once you started, you just couldn’t get enough. You then began to develop feelings for both of them. You craved their presence, you became addicted.

 And they wanted nothing more than to please you. It was like a fantasy come to life. Once the boundaries were established and the rules discussed, you three were inseparable. And you were good at keeping it a secret, even from Nick, which was not something one could easily do.

As time went on, you got better and better at managing your time equally with them, learning their similarities and differences, and knowing when to take time to yourself as well, not wanting to neglect your personal life.

But recently, tensions started to rise. You noticed that Matt and Chris were more irritable with each other than they usually were. They argued constantly, starting to become more selfish with you each night. It hurt you to know that you could potentially be coming in between them. You knew that the relationship wasn’t good in the long run, and someone was going to end up hurt.

Despite that, you just couldn't walk away. It was more than just sex. You were in love with two people at the same time. And oh, how they loved you…

✰ Chris met you first.

Exactly 30 minutes before Matt, which he loves to rub in his face every chance he gets. It was at a party one of your mutual friends hosted, and his bubbly and goofy personality immediately charmed you. He had a way of making you seem like you were the most important person in the room, focusing his full attention on you. And once you were introduced to Matt and noticed how introverted he was, it only solidified the fact that Chris was one of the most hyperactive people you had met. But you loved it. It paired well with your calm persona, and he constantly had you smiling from ear to ear with his off the wall remarks.

You soon came to know that these traits were just scratching the surface. The more time you spent with him, you observed how emotionally intelligent he was. He always picked up on your moods, knowing when you were upset or irritated and would do everything in his power to put a smile on your face or make you laugh. He was very trustworthy, and you found it easy to talk to him about any subject of your life, knowing he would give you his honest advice. He warmed your towel for you while you would take showers, bring you your favorite snack when you were on your period, and play your favorite songs every time you were in the car with him.

He protected you, wiped your tears when you cried, and supported you in everything you worked on. He knew the most creative ways to keep you inspired and reminded you every day how special you were.

He was also the best cuddler, always wanting to touch you and be touched by you. He loved to press kisses to your shoulder when he would spoon you in bed, his hands running over your body, always finding his way under your shirt or inside your shorts somehow. He loved foreplay, enjoying taking the time to explore every inch of your body with his fingers and mouth until you begged him to fuck you. And god, did he do just that. He nearly broke your headboard one time from how hard he would give it to you. He especially liked it when you wrapped your legs around his waist, making him push even deeper inside you, nails scratching marks down his back.

But he also adored those lazy mornings when he would wake up hard next to you, thrusting into you from behind. To hold you close to him and hear you whimper his name, to make tears form in your eyes and your heart ache from the loving things he would whisper in your ear.

And then there was Matt. ✿

Matt was incredibly sweet from the beginning, soft with every touch he gave you. He treated you like porcelain, like a vintage art piece only made for him. He always made sure you were comfortable in every aspect, making sure to know your limits. He bought you little things when he went out, like your favorite lip gloss he watched you put on every day, or your favorite coffee from the café by your house, with a note, ‘Thinking of you’.

He held your hand every time you two walked together and made sure he was the one closest to the street whenever you were on the sidewalk. He took you camping for the first time you had ever gone, showing you his way to make the perfect smore and which constellation in the sky reminded him of you. He also loved to tease you, to get you all flustered so he could admire how sexy you were when you got mad.

He would shower you with compliments, reminding you how beautiful he thought you were. He was obsessed with putting his mark on you, constantly leaving hickeys on your neck and inner thighs, especially when he knew it was almost Chris’s night. He wanted everyone to know you were his. And he loved every minute you spent in his arms, cherishing your body like it only belonged to him. The way your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he devoured you, licking up every drop of your juices, his beard tickling the inside of your legs. He loved to watch you ride him, preferably backwards, so he could watch your ass bounce on his dick and pull your hair the way you liked it.

But he also loved watching your face as he slid in and out of you, kissing you while you moaned, swallowing every sound you made. Wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing lightly so you saw stars. And he really enjoyed filling you up nice and full, watching his cum leak out of you and then pushing it back in with his fingers, your thighs shaking and clenching around him.

It was safe to say you were more than satisfied almost every day of the week.

However, in this particular moment, you’re pissed off.

You couldn’t understand half of what was going on in the movie on the TV right now, due to the argument Chris and Matt have been in for the past 30 minutes. Their bickering was starting to get to you, and it made what used to be fun between you three now just insufferable.

“Matt, I don’t give a fuck.” Chris says, tightening his grip on your ankle. He was getting angrier, his eyes on the TV and refusing to look at Matt.

You were laid out on the couch next to him, your feet in his lap. Matt was across from you on the other side. He had been distant since the start of the night.

“You should give a fuck, Chris. I’m tired of you fucking up the dryer every time you use it.” he says, scrolling on his phone aimlessly.

Chris doesn’t respond, only making Matt more frustrated. “Matter fact, I’m tired of you fucking up everything you use. The kitchen sink is still messed up from what you did last week and-“

“Matt, please shut the fuck up. I’m getting a headache.”

“No, you shut the fuck up-“

“Can both of you shut the fuck up?!” You yell out, stopping both from continuing.

You hated yelling but you couldn’t take one more second of their arguing.

You stand up from the couch, walking to the kitchen to get a drink from the fridge.

You pull out a water bottle, taking a sip, and when you turn around, they’re both looking at you with concern.

“I’m sorry… Maybe I should go home tonight. I think it’s time we take a break…” You say quietly, avoiding looking at them any longer, your gaze on the wooden floors.

You hear footsteps pad over to you and see Chris’s feet in his white socks stop in front of you. He puts a finger under your chin, lifting your head up gently to look at him.

His eyes are soft and he places a hand on your hip, rubbing the skin there under your shirt. “Please don’t say that. I know it’s Matt’s night tonight… but regardless I want you to stay.” He says and you chew on your bottom lip in thought, contemplating whether you should or not.

You glance at Matt who’s still on the couch, staring at you. His eyes flick to Chris’s hand on your hip briefly and then back to your face. “It’s your decision angel. I won’t force you to stay here if you don’t want to.” He speaks and your heart sinks at the disappointed look on his face that he tries to hide.

“I’m not forcing her to stay here. I only meant that I want her to know how much I want her here. I don’t want to take a break.” Chris says, rolling his eyes. He steps away from you, the last words of his sentence laced with hurt. He opens the fridge, grabbing a drink for himself as well.

Matt then gets up and walks over to where you’re leaning against the kitchen table. He stands close to you, his hands resting on either side of your hips on the table. “Is that what you want? You want to take a break? Because you know I only want you to be comfortable. I’ll respect any decision you make.” He says, his eye contact smoldering. He speaks very quietly, as if he intends for you to be the only one who hears him.

But Chris does too, as he sits on the countertop, arms crossed against his chest. He doesn’t say anything though, his eyes on you as he listens.

“I don’t know. Can you just tell me what’s going on with you two? Why have you been fighting so much lately?” You ask, looking back and forth between the two of them.

They’re silent and exchange one heated look before Matt finally speaks up.

“It’s just been stressful lately, with work and stuff. That’s all.”

You scoff, not buying what he says at all. “Truth please.” You respond.

Matt looks at the floor now, as if he’s avoiding something and it makes you nervous, your heart starting to race in your chest.

“I think we should talk in private, Y/N.”

“Excuse me?” Chris says and hops off the counter to walk over to Matt before you can respond.

Matt turns to him, his jaw clenching in annoyance as Chris stands in front of him now.

“Whatever you have to say, you can say when I’m in the room.” he says, glaring at Matt.

Chris knew he was being unreasonable, but he didn’t care. He knew something was up with Matt these past few weeks, from his body language and the way he’s been talking. And he knew it had everything to do with you. They had agreed to never let a girl come between them, but now it seems like that’s what was happening.

 “I don’t have to do anything.” Matt responds, getting in Chris’s face now.

The angry tension between them created awkward silence in the room, as you watch with wide eyes. They’ve never acted like this before and you stand in shock, unsure what to do or say.

“What the fuck is your problem, huh? I’m sick and tired of you acting like this.” Chris says, pushing Matt away from him.

“Okay! That’s enough.” You interrupt, standing in between them now. You face Chris, placing a hand on his chest as he continues to glare at Matt from above your head.

His heart is pounding with anger, and he takes a deep breath before looking at you finally, his expression only slightly softening.

“Please… just let me talk to him and see what’s wrong. He obviously has something on his mind.”

Chris leans his head down to your ear, tucking his face into your hair and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Just don’t forget how I made you mine the other night… the things I was doing to you in my bed…I know you think about the way I make you feel when he touches you in all the places I do…” He places a soft, open mouth kiss to your neck, leaving shivers down your spine and a wetness in your underwear from his words.

Matt clears his throat, and Chris backs away from you, a smug look on his face. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

He walks off to his room, leaving a redness on your cheeks and your heart racing.

You turn around to Matt, a displeased frown on his face. “I don’t even want to know what he said to you.” He grumbles and grabs your hand so he can lead you to his room.

Time doesn’t seem to exist when Matt has you wrapped up in the silk sheets of his bed, his large hands on every part of your body, his soft lips tasting every inch of your skin. You seem to forget all the problems, all the stress, focused on the way he feels.

You’re currently face down, your upper body flat on his mattress and his hands holding your hips up in the air as he pounds into you repeatedly, knocking the breath out of your lungs. All you can do is fist the silk in your hands, a wet spot forming from the drool that pools out of your mouth.

It’s almost as if he’s punishing you for earlier, the way you let Chris spew filthy things into your ear while Matt stood directly behind you. He wanted to remind you that you were his and his only tonight.

But you were still his angel, perfect for him and could do no wrong in his eyes.

He runs his palms down your smooth back, letting his hands rest in the curve of your waist as he feels himself close. From the way you’re clenching around him and making little whimpers of his name, he knows you’re close too.

“Cum for me, angel.” He pants and you do as he says, your orgasm rippling through you for the second time tonight. It would’ve been the third time, had he stolen you away much earlier in the evening like he usually does.

Matt finishes seconds after you, filling you full of his release. After a minute or so, he collapses beside you, sweaty and breathless. You place your head on his chest, feeling tired but happy.

 Once you both settle down, you decide to bring up what he said earlier in the kitchen, your curiosity overcoming you. “Matt… what did you want to talk about with me?”

“I don’t know if now is the best time, Y/N.” He responds and you look up at him. His face is expressionless, looking straight head. His fingers tangle into your hair, and he massages your scalp lightly.

“Please tell me. I know something is wrong.” You plead with him.

He sighs and pulls you even closer, his chin now resting atop your head. Your face is buried into his neck, listening to his slow breaths, yet you feel his pulse pick up against you.

“I don’t want to share you anymore. That might be selfish, but I mean it. I know what we all agreed on… but I just can’t share you with him. It’s all I think about. Every time you’re with him, I can’t hide my anger. And I don’t want to hold that against him but I’m not willing to compromise anymore. I want you all to myself.”

His words sink into you, your heart almost faltering at the emotion laced in his words. You can’t see his eyes but you can only imagine the way his face must look as he speaks the truth to you. You had a feeling he was caught up about something, but you didn’t know it would be this.

You don’t know what to say, your fingers caressing the skin of his neck, as you process his words. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. You loved him with every fiber of your being. But if you chose him, you would only be crushing Chris, who you also loved deeply.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. I just wanted you to know that.” He says softly after your lack of response and kisses the top of your head.

The two of you drift off to sleep after a while, holding each other and leaving the conversation for tomorrow.

You wake up sometime in the middle of the night, some unknown force coaxing your eyes open. You feel thirsty, and sit up in Matt’s bed, seeing him sound asleep next to you.

You get up, pulling on your pajama shorts and t shirt, slowly pushing Matt’s bedroom door open so you don’t wake him and quietly walk to the kitchen, getting a glass of water.

Once you finish, you set the glass on the counter, running a hand through your hair. You think of Matt’s confession earlier, and how you would even begin to address it.

Lost in thought, you feel a hand creep onto your waist from behind and recognize the smell of Chris’s cologne. You jump slightly from his sudden presence and turn around to see a cheeky smile on his face.

“Sorry, mama. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He whispers and you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. “What are you doing up?” You ask him.

Chris has been awake since the moment he left you flustered in the kitchen earlier. He heard your sounds of pleasure from Matt’s room all night, driving him crazy. Every time it was Matt’s night with you, he was in the worst of moods. He couldn’t help how jealous he was.

“Just couldn’t sleep.” He simply replies, burying his face into your chest. “Thinking about you.”

He pulls the collar of your t-shirt down so he can place his lips on the swell of your breasts, letting his tongue poke out to run along your skin. You sigh, your hand coming up to hold the back of his neck, your other hand resting on top of the counter you were leaning on.

He places his hands on the small dip of your back, pulling your body even closer to him, his mouth now biting and sucking onto the flesh of your neck and breasts, like he’s starving for you.

“Chris…” You breathe out. It’s not exactly a sound of protest, coming out more like a moan. The feeling of his lips and tongue on your skin never fail to turn you on, your body a lit with a fire only he can start. He grabs you suddenly by the hips, lifting you up so you sit on the counter.

He stands in between your legs, holding your thighs and continuing to kiss the sweet spot on your neck, right below your ear. He knows how it drives you insane, and he’s getting hard already from the way you’re starting to pant, and tug at the hair on the back of his neck.

“Chris…” You whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and locking your ankles. You feel his hardness press against your throbbing core and you’re terrified Nick, who’s been out with his friends all day, might walk in on you two in the kitchen.

Or even worse, Matt. He would be absolutely furious.

“What is it, sweet girl? Hm? Talk to me…” He whispers, his breath hot against your skin. He sneaks his warm, soft hands under the hem of your shirt, running up to squeeze your breasts and knead them in his hands.

You moan at the contact, your grip in his hair tightening. “What? You scared of getting caught?” He continues, when you don’t say anything.

You nod and feel him smirk against your neck. “Don’t want Matt to see what I do to you?” He says and butterflies swirl around in your chest, your heart starting to race.

You don’t. You don’t want Matt to catch you on the counter with your legs wrapped around Chris as he leaves hickeys all over your skin, something Matt is sure to notice later. You don’t want to be unfair when it’s his night with you, something you all agreed that each of you would respect.

However, the rules have seemed to be bent lately, the boundaries that had been established now being pushed. This wouldn’t be the first time Chris or even Matt snuck around with you behind the other’s back. When either of them had the chance to find you alone, most of the time it ended up with stolen kisses and longing touches.

You couldn’t help but give into your desires every time you were around either of them, even if it was against the “rules.” And you hadn’t admitted it to either of them, but you craved to have both Matt and Chris at the same time again, like the first night on your bedroom floor.

Chris’s hands are gripping the top of your thighs, rubbing and caressing them as he now moves his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply. He takes your bottom lip in between his teeth, pulling lightly and then sucking before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You moan against his lips, his fingers rubbing your clit over the thin fabric of your pajama shorts. You weren’t wearing any panties, and he feels how wet you are for him, his touch only making you more aroused, creating a mess in your shorts. You could almost slip off the counter from how he’s making you melt around him. “Shit baby- does Daddy make you this fucking wet?” He groans, sucking on your tongue and your head spins.

He pulls the fabric of your shorts to the side, only teasing you for a little, running his fingers through your folds before pushing two deep inside you to the base of his knuckles. The feeling has you moaning into his mouth, failing to kiss him back now as you’re wrapped up in pleasure.

All that can be heard in the kitchen is the squelch of your pussy as he fucks you with his fingers, pumping them in and out of you with slow, deep strokes. Your legs are trembling around his waist and he wraps one large hand around your throat and looks you in your eyes. It’s dark but you can see the ring of blue around his blacked-out eyes, nothing but lust seeping out of them.

“Tell me only I can make you feel this way. You’re not cumming until I hear you say it.”

Fuck.

You secretly loved when Chris was possessive over you, but you didn’t want to undermine Matt even if he wasn’t here to listen to you say it.

He speeds up the thrusting of his fingers, his grasp on your throat tightening. He’s brushing that spot that’s deep inside you, making you ready to crumble around him. “Y/N. Tell me who you really belong to. I need to fucking hear it.”

“Chris, please.” You beg him, not wanting to say what he’s asking from you. You’re so close, you need to release but you know he would punish you for days if you cum without his permission. It’s a twisted game. And you loved it.

You still say silent, panting as he shakes his head and then removes his fingers from your aching cunt. “No. Only good girls get to cum.” He tells you and then drops to his knees, keeping his eyes on you as he spreads your legs wider, now resting them on his shoulders and pulls you roughly to the edge of the counter, so he can lick at your wetness slowly, your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Keep your eyes on me. And tell me what I already know baby. Don’t you wanna be a good girl for Daddy?” He rasps and then pushes his fingers back inside you, harder this time, his lips attached to your puffy clit. He’s determined to have you cumming all over his mouth and fingers, as long as you say what he wants to hear.

He digs his other hand into the flesh of your thigh as you stare down at him, the look on his face only pushing you closer to your orgasm. “Come on sweetheart, I know you’re close. Tell me you’re mine.”

Your hips are practically bucking off the counter top as you ride his face, his hold on you strong. It feels so good that you would say anything he asked at this point, feeling yourself clench around his fingers.

“I’m yours Chris.” You moan, and he sucks on your clit harder, releasing for a short few seconds to respond. “There’s my girl… it feels so good to hear you say it. That you’re only mine. Isn’t that right?”

You nod helplessly, your hand gripping the edge of the counter and your other one tangled in his hair. “Yes, Chris. I’m all yours. Only yours. Fuck-“You feel yourself coming undone as he’s brushing your g spot with the tips of his fingers again, kissing your inner thighs.

“Such a good fucking girl. You can cum, Ma, cum all over my hand.” He breathes. He could almost cum in his pants from hearing you say the words. He wants you all to himself, all day and every day. He was so in love with you.

You’re releasing onto his fingers, leaking down his hand and thighs clenching around his head as your orgasm hits you hard and fast, moaning his name loudly.

He watches you in amazement, your head thrown back in ecstasy, the reddish purple marks on your neck now visible to him and he swells with pride. He stands up to hold you against him as you catch your breath and you clutch onto him, your arms around his neck as you calm down.

It’s then that you make eye contact with Matt, who’s standing across the other side of the kitchen with his arms crossed. It makes a shock run through you.

It is a little naïve of you not to think he wouldn’t catch you. And there’s a look on his face you’ve only seen once before since you known him. The first time being when he caught you with Chris’s dick in your mouth on the living room couch a couple months ago. Granted, it wasn’t Matt’s night but he was pissed at the audacity of you two to mess around there instead of the privacy of Chris’s room. It didn’t help with the jealous rage Matt possessed anytime he saw Chris with you.

And now, this is what he stumbles upon after waking up to see you missing from his bed. Chris making you cum with his head in between your legs on the counter.

He was livid, to say the least.

You remove your arms from Chris’s neck and open your mouth to begin to speak but he cuts you off.

“I don’t want to hear a word from you.” Your mouth snaps back shut, and you almost shrink back from the harshness of his tone.

Chris turns around, and once he sees how mad he is, he smirks, his hands still on your legs. “Sorry, Matt. Just couldn’t help myself. Can you blame me?��

Matt doesn’t even look at Chris, his eyes still burning into you.

“This is what you want, angel? You’re not just satisfied with only one of us for the night?”

“No, Matt I-“

“Did I say you could talk?” He cuts you off again.

His arms are still crossed, his checkered blue pajama pants hanging low on his hips. He doesn’t have a shirt on and the veins in his arms pop out, his hair still messy from sleep. The tone in his voice scares and excites you at the same time.

“Since you want to act so desperate and needy, you’ll get what you want. But on my terms.”

Your heart races at what he’s suggesting and memories of him and Chris from that first night flood your mind, making you wet all over again.

“Go to my room and wait there.” He demands and you look hesitantly between him and Chris.

Chris smiles at you, a mischievous look on his face. He squeezes your thigh before helping you off the counter, and motions for you to go on. “Go ahead, baby. We won’t be long.”

You’re dumbfounded at the turn this night has taken as you walk off towards Matt’s room, hearing them exchange words but not able to make out what they’re saying, an anxious but excited feeling in the pit of your stomach.

taglist <3: (if you want to be added/taken off, reply to this post or comment on my masterlist. and if you weren't mentioned, it wouldnt let me tag u :/)

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturnioloco @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn @jnkvivi @sturnpooks

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo oneshots

[harmonicakai]

Mr. Know It All

Pairing: Taehyun x Reader

Summary: When you finally find yourself sleeping over at Taehyun’s dorm, you start to wonder if you and him could ever be something more serious.

Tropes: friends with benefits, mutual pining, angst, fluff, college AU, tutor!taehyun

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of sex (mdni), LOTS of overthinking

A/N: This is unedited and I wrote it all in one go lol <3

"And the songbirds are singing Like they know the score And I love you, I love you, I love you Like never before" —Songbird, Fleetwood Mac

Taehyun doesn’t know how to tell you that things aren't and never have been casual between the two of you.

It started one rainy afternoon after a study session in the library. The two of you had run through the deluge into the safety of his dorm room, and when he peeled off his wet clothes to change, you didn’t look away.

So, one semester later, right after you’ve finished moaning his name, he struggles to find the words to ask you to stay the night.

He hates watching you gather up your things and leave, refusing to be held by him for even a moment after both of you have finished what you came here for.

“Y/N,” he manages to get out, his voice barely above a whisper. You turn away from the door, your hair still messy, eyeliner smudged. “It’s raining.”

It’s code for “I love you. Please don’t leave.”

“Right,” you say, glancing out the window. Lightning flashes throughout the small dorm, with the crash of thunder following shortly after. Only a fool would leave in this weather. “I don’t have an umbrella.”

“You can stay,” Taehyun says, patting the bed beside him. You nod, crossing over and settling under the warm blanket. Despite how often you’re here in this position, it’s never under these circumstances.

“It seems like the rain is always bringing us together,” you laugh. You’re careful not to say anything loud enough for his roommate to hear through the walls, although in retrospect, you’ve never considered your volume when in bed with Taehyun before.

It’s awkward. Before any of this started, he was just the guy who helped you out with your math problem sets. Add in the perfect distraction from actually sitting down and having a conversation with each other, and you barely knew anything about him.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he offers, already sliding off of the twin sized mattress with a pillow in his arms. “I don’t want to bother you.”

You note how between sleeping next to you and on the floor, he’s decided that the latter is more bearable. 

Usually, the two of you are in perfect sync. He knows how to please you better than any other guy you’ve been with, making sure to do things the exact way that you like. Sometimes, you worry that he doesn’t think the same of you.

Are there other girls? You don’t see him as often as you’d like to, but maybe he’s just busy with other things. Kang Taehyun, the chronic overachiever and golden boy of SNU. What would he even want with a girl like you?

Surely, he spends all of his free time studying and going to band practice, you tell yourself.

At this point, your racing thoughts are never going to let you fall asleep.

“Taehyun,” you say, hoping you aren’t waking him up. You haven’t taken your eyes off the ceiling since he moved to the floor, half out of guilt that he’s even down there, and half worried you’ll catch yourself staring at him while he sleeps.

“Yeah?” he answers, his voice low. You wonder what it sounds like when he sings with his band. Maybe, if he asks you to, you’ll go to one of his concerts soon.

You hesitate, wondering whether or not he’ll say yes. “Can you come back up here?”

When you hear him gather his things and stand up, you finally let out the breath that you've been holding. Within seconds, he’s climbing in next to you, his body warm and strong.

“Are you cold?” he asks, pulling the covers up over your collarbone. “Sorry. I think the heater is broken and I haven’t had time to call maintenance.”

“Yeah, it’s a little chilly,” you confirm, although the temperature is fine. In fact, it might even be a little too hot.

“I can, uh,” Taehyun starts. You’ve never heard him stutter before. “I can hold you, if you want. That might help.”

“That would be nice,” you say, mentally cringing at how formal the exchange is. He positions himself behind you, snaking his arm around your waist and pressing his chest against your back.

“Is this better?” he asks, his voice still shaky. You worry that this level of intimacy is making him uncomfortable, but he nestles his head over your shoulder in a way that makes you finally stop overthinking. Maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way you do.

“Yes,” is all you manage to squeak out. He lets out a quiet laugh in relief before pressing a kiss into your shoulder blade. The small gesture sends a shockwave through your body.

“You’re cute,” he says, snuggling into you further. Is this really what things would be like if you didn’t run away after every hook up? It seems like second nature to him, making you question whether it actually means anything.

Still, he doesn’t bother to touch you now like he’s always dying to after you show up to class in a short skirt or send him a risky text when you know he’s running office hours. 

“I can hear you thinking,” he mutters, startling you. You break away from his grasp to turn and face him, his piercing eyes already fixed on you. “Is something wrong, Y/N?”

“No,” you attempt to lie, although your face says otherwise. Taehyun feels you stiffen in his arms, your gaze locked on his.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he concedes, his voice icy and monotone. “But I know something is wrong.”

How could he know that? What could Taehyun possibly know about you besides what you look like with your clothes off?

When he first got assigned to tutor you, he had scolded you for being late, and again for being unorganized. If you don’t open up to him now, he might actually revert to the same cold demeanor as before. 

Even worse, he might stop meeting up with you. With the school year ending next month, you’ll have no excuse to see each other anymore. The thought of being alone again brings you to tears.

Taehyun’s expression softens at the sight of you breaking down. “I’m sorry,” you cry, burying your face into his chest. His hand reaches up to stroke your hair, the other gently rubbing your back. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight.”

“I do,” he sighs. You pull back just enough to look up at him through teary eyes. “I pushed things between us too far. I should’ve known that you wanted to keep things casual. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You stare at him, awestruck at how wrong he is. You want nothing more than to know anything and everything about him.

Still, when you search for the right words to explain this, your brain draws a blank. The only thing you can do is cup his face and kiss him, your nerves finally settling when he melts into you.

You’ve kissed him hundreds of times by now, but this one feels like the first time.

It feels like forever before he pulls away from you, a wide grin on his face. “Please, please, please let me take you out to dinner.”

“Okay,” you smile back, unable to contain your giddiness. “I’d like that very much.”

“Tomorrow night?” he proposes. His eagerness makes you giggle. He might be the busiest person on campus, but he’ll clear his entire schedule if it means he gets to spend time with you.

“Sure,” you agree. “It’s a date. If we ever manage to get out of bed, that is.”

Taehyun laughs a little before pulling you into another kiss. By now, the rain has stopped, but you aren’t going anywhere.

—————-

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P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! Also, I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don't want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to make a note <3

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[tragedy-of-commons]

lay your life down and pretty

various hsr x gn!reader | wc: ~2k

In which you die (or they've already lost you).

tags/warnings: character death (reader), it's implied in dh's part but explicit and semi-graphic in hanya's, descriptions of mara and the insanity that comes with it, hardcore angst, hurt no comfort, there may be Lore Inaccuracies

notes: this was originally supposed to be four parts. i'm sorry it's only two but it's just been uhhh... hope you enjoy & thanks for the incredible support lately <3

Dan Heng makes the best pancakes.

You’ve expressed this undeniable fact to his face multiple times, louder in their progression just to see the tips of his ears burn that endearing red. These declarations are reserved for breakfast. At this time you also chide him for trying to weasel his way out of eating the most important meal of the day!

And he’d sigh, letting you hound him about food options until he’d crack under the weight of your grin and end up mixing batter at 7:30 in the morning.

(“I tried flipping them in the air once and the pancake slapped me in the face,” you’d regaled, head resting idly on your fist.

Dan Heng stared into the black of the skillet. “...Somehow, I don’t doubt it.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” you huffed.

He almost let not-quite laugh slip then, but because of his stuck-uppery, he just managed to look peeved. “I would appreciate it if you passed me the butter.”)

Instead it is around 9:00 in the morning, and Dan Heng is alone. 

He’d stayed up late the night before doing some reading, causing him to oversleep and rush the process today. He’s almost burned his hand on the stove eye twice, nearly dropped an egg on the floor, and has just narrowly avoided burning the batch. Dan Heng is not clumsy (not like you were), and he is painfully aware that he is late.

After he plates the food, the oven clock reads 9:19. He gathers everything, including two sets of utensils and one awkward wad of napkins - before setting the table by heart. Your plate goes in front of the chair closest to the window, and his goes in front of the one adjacent to yours. 

The rhythm of distributing each item eventually leaves him with empty hands. Everything is ready, but there is still something colossal missing from the scene.

Dan Heng stares hard at your empty seat before taking his own. 

The pancakes are blackened around the edges, but it’s nothing a good heaping portion of syrup can’t fix, and the smell that wafts upward is sweet and inviting. The sun’s rays shining in from the outside world paint the kitchen in flecks of light that occasionally catch on his arm when he brings his fork to his mouth.

Resigned, his silverware clatters noisily to the table.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “I’m sorry that I was late.”

Predictably, there’s no response. Dan Heng’s throat feels like it’s closing up on him, and the syrup definitely isn’t helping. He dabs his mouth with his napkin for a good long while.

He is sorry. It wasn’t enough that he’d stayed up late the night before, but that he deliberately kept glancing at the clock and counting the hours until daylight arrived - reminding himself that if he drifted off, the next day would come much sooner.

He isn’t the type to procrastinate either. Even when you’re not here anymore, you seem to have a profound effect on his character. Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose. The sound of his voice echoing off the walls of the lonely kitchen is unwelcome. “Happy birthday.”

It’s strained, imperfect, and painful; which only serves to remind him of your insistence on celebrating his birthday as well. You had practically prostrated yourself at his feet, begging him to let you fuss over him - even if it made his vision hazy and palms sweaty. He needs to return the favor, even if the mere idea of another important date passing him up without you makes him want to hide.

So here he is. 

Here he is, floundering terribly, missing you terribly, loving you terribly. Dan Heng wrenches his hand from its secure position in his lap to drum on the table.

“I got you something,” he says. “I… I didn’t know which color you’d prefer more, so…”

You’d tease him into an early grave if you were able to see the knitted oven mitt he’d picked out over two months ago. It’s an almost hideous shade of teal that he’s sure you’d love, especially since you forced him to bake with you regularly.

(He was shopping with March 7th when he’d seen it and then reflexively dumped it into his basket. His companion only asked him if he was planning on using it as kindling for the fireplace.)

Dan Heng closes his eyes and slides it over to your placement. For a second, he almost fools himself into thinking you might magically appear to brush fingers when you accept the gift with a bright smile. He has no such luck.

Your breakfast is getting colder, and there’s nothing to be done today; his friends, as much as he can say he appreciates them - also meddle quite a bit. His schedule was mysteriously cleared up and he was gently encouraged to go home and take the day off. The feeling of three pairs of eyes drilling holes into his back as he complied was a bit too potent to be coincidental.

So he sits there and pretends he’s eating with you for as long as he can. The stutters in the familiar rhythm that comes with today are things he can smooth out over time, even if it feels like a betrayal to you. You would never see it like that, which is why he can even live in a home without you in it at all.

(The oven mitt rests beside your full plate until the afternoon, because he cannot bring himself to clean up just yet. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to.)

Dan Heng is not a man who can afford to hope, but he’s already been in debt since the moment of his birth. If just one of his prayers is granted, he hopes it’s the one he runs through his mind every night:

In the next life, please let us cross paths again. And if there’s room for it, please let me love you for as long as I can.

He’s never been one for optimism, but it’s all he looks forward to.

Hanya’s hands cradle the expanse of your face.

Her fingers ghost over any healthy glow remaining in your cheeks. You’re slipping, rightfully so, but does it make her a monster if she wants to claw and rifle through the sands of time to search for any universe where you were spared from this cruel fate?

(She thinks it does.)

You can’t get the words out, but there’s a resigned film that glazes over your eyes - one that tells her that she needn’t lie about where you’ll be going. Your mouth forms silent syllables punctuated by wheezes that will surely send her careening under the depths of the unconscious at record speed.

“Han.. ya,” you croak, “Stay.”

“I will,” she promises, because she needs to - over and over, until you remember it always, even when you’re gone. Even when you’re suffering through the last moments of your fledgling life. “I will remain here.”

Her duty as a Judge of the Ten-Lords Commission is to oversee life and death on the Xianzhou. When Hanya drifts aimlessly like a spectre between inky darkness and blinding daylight, it has occasionally struck her that one day she might have to oversee yours.

Presently, your mind is being swallowed by the maw of mara, a madness that she’s all too familiar with; faced with her dull countenance, she must have witnessed thousands succumb to the fate of infernal life. 

“D-Don’t cry,” you beseech. There isn’t much time until you’re no longer Hanya’s secret reprieve, but instead a writhing abomination - and she only has herself to blame. Had she not embraced you so tightly, would you be free of this curse? Would you still be smiling and dragging her by the hand through Exalting Sanctum?

“I will not send you there,” she breathes, “You are not deserving of—”

The agonizing cry you let out next is still beautiful. Even now you can mitigate the emptiness that’s dug its claws in her heart so deep that it’s become symbiotic with the organ. However, instead of the empty, Hanya feels its distant relative: the pins and needles. The hollow white noise crackles until she’s pierced with an arsenal of skeletal knives.

She could take it, and she would take it, if it meant that you weren’t about to die and then awaken again as a monster that desecrates the very concept of you.

She releases your now matching tear-stricken cheeks before seizing both of your arms. The thrashing has crept in, meaning that there isn’t much time before you start sprouting leaves and weeds like a statue abandoned by its devotees. 

A sharp inhale through clenched teeth. “You have… to. M’gonna hurt—” you convulse in her grasp, “—somebody...”

Of course you’re worrying about others right now. Kindness is a relic of the past that you’ve somehow managed to exhume, restore to its full glory, and gift to Hanya like she deserves to touch others’ lives in the same way you have. 

Every shopkeep knows your name, face, voice, and smile. Your warmth is infectious - even before she knew you in person, she knew of you by word of mouth. Xueyi had told her that the reason Huohuo was so resolute in her duties lately was because of “the person who defeated a bunch of reprobate hooligan bullies tormenting her”. 

If her big sister held you in high regard, she figured you were one she wouldn’t mind exchanging greetings with if you ever crossed paths. However, the thing about you is that you always give more than you take; you too eventually gave her your smile over tea, your opinion on her writing, and a perspective from the light she usually only smothers upon first contact. 

It seems that it was just a matter of time before Hanya extinguished you.

“You are not ready,” she begs pitifully, “You are not!”

She knows it’s never about being ready. Bad things always happen to good people - to sons, daughters, friends, big sisters, and lovers.

Lovers. 

The word is foreign on the tip of her tongue. It’s strange to be actualized and even stranger to ascribe that label to your relationship, but Hanya doesn’t know what else to think when the knives stab her over and over to the elegy of I love you, I love you, I love you.

The trek from Fyxestroll Garden to the Alchemy Commission is sizable. The Dragon Lady could see you and do her best, but she’s seen where that’s led; best efforts gone to waste, inconsolable loved ones given false hope because they were too stubborn to let go.

Is that what she is? Too stubborn to let you go, even when she’s brought this karma upon you?

(Yes, something ugly whispers, this is your penance. Now it’s theirs too.)

“I...” you let out a strangled groan, and when your chest jerks upwards, it barely registers that you brush your lips against hers. There’s tears and snot everywhere, and you’re getting stronger - too strong for her to hold. Hanya’s forearms ache with the strain as gingko leaves begin to ravage your humanity and rip you apart.

The transformation process is cruel, but she promised to remain by your side. Twigs protrude from your neck, nestled between thorny brambles that poke and prod. You are not a Cloud Knight, so your screams aren’t muffled by armor - or muted by the numbness she feels when dealing with other cases. 

It’s too real, it’s too much, and it’s not enough.

Drowned out by the previous mantra of I love you, the background vocals of I’m so sorry peter off into whispers that are soon lost among the sickening squelch of Xueyi’s blade cutting through you in one clean motion. The tip of the sword rests over Hanya’s heart, stained with your blood.

“...That’s not them anymore,” her sister says. It’s off-kilter, the way her brow is furrowed in a silent apology.

One can only hope.

taglist: @flower-yi, @moineauz, @aphrodict, @nomazee

#—stellaronhvnters. #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #hanya x reader #hsr dan heng x reader #hsr hanya x reader #honkai star rail x reader #star rail x reader #danheng x reader #dan heng hsr x reader #hanya hsr x reader #hsr dan heng #hsr hanya #honkai star rail #✧ my works

[cry4tzu]

Focus on me, not the damn exam

Minatozaki sana x female reader

synopsis-i wanted her attention, and i got it .

Warning-smut!!, mention of mommy, and slut

A/N- first attempt at smut so it a little short so bare with me.

The air was heavy with the scent of dust and old books as Sana hunched over her desk in her dorm , her hair falling over her face as she pored over notes and textbooks. Her heart raced and her palms sweat, but not from nervousness; it was excitement, anticipation. She was inches away from triumph, from proving herself to the world. No, not the world, just her professor. Just this stupid, stupid exam.

She glanced at the clock, willing the hands to move faster. Just a few more hours and she'd be free to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Or so she thought. There was a small shape, barely noticeable at first of someone right beside her.When she focused her attention on it, she realized it was her girlfriend, Y/N, trying to get her attention. But she couldn't. Not now. She had to focus.

"Sana," Y/N whispered, her voice husky with desire. "Babe, I need you to pay attention to me."

Sana sighed, already for the 50th time . "I can't, Y/N," she murmured, her voice strained. "I have an exam tomorrow, I need to study."

“You have been studying for the past hours my love, you should take a break” y/n said whining to the fact that her girlfriend attention was on something else other than her.

“Well, this exam is very important so if you can let me study for two more hours then i promise you will get my attention baby ” she said going back to focus her attention on the papers she need to read over.

With a sigh of defeat, y/n gave up on trying to get Sana's attention the conventional way. She knelt down on the floor, slipped her long, slender legs underneath Sana's desk, and before Sana even had time to register what was happening, she felt y/n's lips wrap around her aching clit, her tongue darting out to tease and caress her swollen nub. Sana's eyes widened in surprise and she let out a small gasp, the sound muffled by the pages of her notes.

She slipped a finger inside, making Sana gasp, and began to move. "You're so wet," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. “You like this don’t you mommy.” Sana let out a whimper in response.

As Y/N continued to work her magic, Sana could feel her mind start to wander, her focus slipping away from the books and notes spread out before her. She tried to concentrate on the exam, on the questions she needed to know, but all she could think about was how good it felt to have Y/N's body pressed against hers, her fingers moving inside her. She couldn't help but wonder if she was making the right choice, if she should really be studying right now. But it was too late for second-guessing. All she could do was give in to the pleasure, and hope that she would remember enough to get her through the exam.

Her breath hitched as Y/N's fingers found her clit, circling it expertly, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. "Yes," she moaned, arching her back, her hips pushing against Y/N's hand. "Just like that baby ." She could feel herself getting closer, the need building inside her, and she knew she was going to cum.

“You're such a fucking slut for your baby, you know that right?" Y/N whispered, her voice thick with desire. "Just let go, Sana. Let me take care of you." she increased the pressure of her tongue and her fingers, driving Sana closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck,fuck ,fuck I’m gonna cum please don’t stop”sana said as her eyes rolled back in her head, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she felt herself starting to lose control. the way her lover fingers was deep inside pushing her right to the edge. She needed more. She reached out, tangling her fingers in Y/N's hair, urging her on, begging for more.

As the pleasure built inside her, Sana could feel her muscles tensing, her orgasm growing closer and closer. And then, with a cry of release, she came, her body shuddering and trembling beneath Y/N's expert touch. "Fuck," she moaned, her voice hoarse. "Y/N... I can't... I can't take it..."

But Y/N didn't get up, not yet. She continued to suck on Sana's clit, her fingers still thrusting inside her, relentless in their pursuit of pleasure. And as Sana began to catch her breath, she realized that she was still sitting at her desk, her legs spread wide, her pussy exposed and on display for her girlfriend. A thrill ran through her as she imagined what this must look like, and she let out a moan of approval, urging Y/N to keep going.

"That's it, mommy. You look so pretty when you’re desperate for me ," Y/N murmured, her voice low and husky. "Just let me have you." She reached up, untying Sana's hair from its messy bun and letting it fall around them in a curtain of black. She used it to cover her hands, using the strands to hide her fingers from view as she continued to work her magic.

Sana arched her back, her hips bucking forward as she felt herself growing wetter and needier under Y/N's expert touch. She gripped the edge of the desk, her knuckles white with effort as she tried to remain still, but the sensations were simply too intense. "I'm gonna cum again," she gasped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Oh God, Y/N..."

Y/N smiled against her, her tongue darting out to tease and flick at the sensitive bud of her clit. "That's it," she whispered, her voice a low growl. "Let go, Sana. Give it all to me." And with that, Sana was overcome, her body shuddering with another powerful orgasm as she cried out in ecstasy.

As Sana's tremors subsided, Y/N pulled away, gazing up at her with a satisfied smile. She licked her lips, tasting their combined juices, and then leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Sana's swollen lips. "I'm so proud of you, mommy," she whispered. "You did amazing."

Sana blushed, her cheeks flushed with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment. "Th-thank you," she stammered, her breath coming in short gasps. She looked down at her desk, still covered in books and notes, feeling a pang of guilt. "I-I really should study..."

Y/N laughed softly, her fingers tracing lazy circles on Sana's inner thigh. "Don't worry about that for now," she said, her voice soothing. "You've earned a break." She leaned in, pressing their lips together in a soft, gentle kiss. "Why don't we take a little nap together? It’s getting late. " she suggested, her hand sliding up under Sana's shirt, touching her soft skin.

Sana nodded, feeling herself grow warm at the touch. They got up from the desk, and Y/N helped Sana lie down on the bed. She pulled the blankets up over them, tucking Sana in like a child. As they snuggled close together, their hearts racing and their breaths intermingling, Sana couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. It was as if nothing else in the world mattered in this moment, as if they were the only two people in existence.

"I love you, Sana," Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of their hearts pounding. "You're the only one for me."

Sana smiled, nestling deeper into Y/N's embrace. "I love you too," she murmured, feeling her eyes grow heavy as sleep began to creep up on her. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so safe, so cherished. The warmth of Y/N's body against hers was addicting, and as her eyelids grew heavier, she allowed herself to drift off, lost in the comfort of their embrace.

#twice #cry4tzu #twice x reader #twice scenarios #twice sana #minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana x reader #sana x fem!reader #sana x reader #i need sana #K-pop x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 4

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

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

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

This lewk but silverfox

Even if the work is a lot and at times tedious, you’re grateful for the excuse to stay inside. As you hole yourself inside the house and tidy the messes, big and small, you can hear the conversations out the walls, wafting in through open windows. It’s as content as your mother’s been in the last few years. Steve is nice enough and he doesn’t have that same snooty lean as the other suburbanites.

As you mop, you think of how he mentioned the city. You wonder what it was like. Before your grandma passed, you and your mom lived in a walk-up in a small town. Everyone there knew your names too and reviled it just the same. You never mean any harm but wherever you go, you seem to inspire spite.

Dishes, floor, walls, dusting, errant cobwebs, clutter...

You work until your mother comes in, swinging the door violently as she drags herself inside. You go to help her and she swats you away. You retreat and she finds her way to the recliner. You shut the door and lock it.

“Wonderful man,” she groans as she lays her head back and tilts the chair, extending the footrest, “don’t make ‘em like that anymore. He’s the sort I shoulda picked.” She closes her eyes and gives a wry hum, “’specially over your dad.”

You don’t say a word. She only mentions your father to remind you of that half of you she hates. You gather up the clothes on the couch into a basket. The laundry will have you up late. Your own fault; you should’ve done this all a lot sooner.

“Should I start dinner?” You ask.

“I don’t know if I’m in the mood for burnt chicken,” she scoffs meanly.

“I could do mac and cheese,” you offer.

“I’m teasing ya. Jeez, you got no sense of humour,” she sighs dreamily, “not like Steve. Such a charming man.”

You pass through the kitchen and descend to the basement to fill the washer. You add soap and twist the knob. You leave the basket on the lid and head back up. You peruse the fridge as you ponder what to make. Mac and cheese would be easiest.

You get started and the TV blips on in the next room. The audio helps chase away the tension. You leave the water to boil and lean on the archway that looks into the front room.

“Um, mom, what should I make tomorrow? For uh, dinner? With... him?”

“Well, don’t sound so damn excited,” she sits up, “whatsa matter with you? The nice man wants to come see us, unlike the rest of these snobs. My own sister won’t come through that door.” She snorts and shakes her head, “you can go to the store tomorrow and grab something nice. I don’t want ya serving that man starchy potatoes. Down at the fancy store, they got those premade meals.”

“Those are expensive,” you remark.

“And? You get your stipend, you don’t gotta be leeching off of me,” she snips.

“Um, yes, I know, I wasn’t--”

“God, look at that,” her eyes flick up to the ceiling, goddamn dusty, it’s a wonder I can breathe.”

You look up and see what she means. There’s a layer of dusty on the ceiling fan as it turns lazily on its lowest setting.

“I’ll get it--”

“Better. You’re not gonna embarrass me tomorrow. I’d be better off if you stay in your room,” she tuts.

“If you want--”

“No, you come out and say hi. Don’t be rude. You know I did try to teach you manners. You just never spoke enough to use them.”

You frown and look down meekly. She’s not wrong. You turn and go to grab the duster. You don’t think tomorrow is going to be any different than any other.

🏠

The next morning, go out to the grocery store to grab the meal for that evening. As you return, you linger at the end of the street. You can see Steve on his lawn. You wait for him to go inside before you drive up and pull into the driveway.

You carry the bags inside with your sights set on the house and nothing else. Inside, you put down your haul on the counter and put each item away, one at a time. Your mother is in the bathroom, chirping out a song out of key.

“God dammit,” she snarls, “I can’t find my red lipstick,” she rattles through her bin of makeup. She doesn’t wear it very often. “Get in here.”

Before you can pass the open door, her demand pulls you back. You enter as she sits on a stool in front of the mirror. She shoves the bin away and grumbles.

“Here,” she holds out a pair of tweezers with a tremble, “damn brows are unruly.”

You nod and step closer. You press a hand gently to her forehead and pluck out the stray hairs, shaping them as best you can.

“Don’t forget my lip,” she huffs hot breath onto you. “Don’t think he’ll like the tickle.”

She chuckles to herself. You don’t get it. You finish and step back, holding up the hand mirror for her. She shrugs.

“Get me some of that moisturizer,” she points unsteadily to the shelf above the toilet. You do as she says. “Mm,” she grumbles as you face her again, “not wearing that, are ya?”

You look down. The loose tee shirt with butterflies on it and the faded jeans are a bit plain. You tug on the hem and raise your head.

“You got a dress somewhere in there,” she shakes her head as she flips the cap up on the bottle after three tries. “I bought you some nice ones and you never put them one.”

“Uh, okay, yeah, I’ll check,” you promise. “Need help?”

You reach for the bottle and she keeps it out of your reach. You back up and leave her. You can sense her agitation growing.

You cross the hall to your bedroom and go to the closet. You slide the door open and sift through the contents hung from the bar. There’s a dress. A pink polka dot dress she got you in high school. Nothing special; a bargain bin cotton a-line with thin straps.

You take it out and examine it. That was the only dance you went to. You got stood up by the boy who asked you. You realise now it was only ever a joke at your expense.

You undress by your bed and put the dress on. It’s tight. Maybe it’s shrunk or maybe you’ve gotten bigger. You didn’t think your chest had grown that much since high school but it’s bulging out and your thighs feel a bit too exposed. You go into the hall and back into the bathroom. You shift the door as you mother works as spreading the eye cream above her cheekbones.

You look at your reflection and cringe. You turn to your mom.

“It’s too small,” you say to her.

She peers over with a scowl. She looks you up and down and drops the tube of cream. She shakes her head.

“Put a sweater over it,” she sneers, “it’s fine.”

“Right, uh, okay,” you agree and swallow. Even with a sweater, you don’t know. The skirt won’t be any longer.

“Would ya stop crowding me?” She shoos you tersely.

You push the door back against the wall and slip out of the bathroom. You head back to your bedroom and pick out a grey cardigan. It has no buttons but it’s at least as long as the dress. It’s better than feeling so exposed.

You hardly think it will matter. You already feel like a third wheel. Steve didn’t exactly spend hours talking to you and your mother as much as said you are collateral. They’re both just putting up with you because you’re there.

You run your hands over your face and hair. Can't dress that up. You pout at your reflection. You wish you could iust hide on your room and draw.

You look over at your sketchbook and cross the room. You sit on your bed and slide the folding table close. You open the pages and pick up the pencil. You straighten the page you tore from the old home and garden magazine and copy the shape of the amaryllis petals.

You can forget a little longer until real life wakes you up.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #drabble #series #au #silverfox au #the girl next door #mcu #marvel

[waldau]

I cant insert a photo here on your ask but it goes something like

"Do whatever you want!!!" X said out of anger then character Y kissed him gently. "You said do whatever i want, right?"

whatever — choi seungcheol | 1,821 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

this prompt was really cute!!!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out? and in need of a hug?

you love the sounds that make the house you share with seungcheol your home.

you love hearing the door creak when you open it at that specific angle. you love the sound of the clock ticking in the living room that seungcheol himself picked out. you love the sound of him walking on the wooden floor of your house, the sound of his glass when it clinks against the marble of the kitchen island, the birds chirping in the evening when you take out time to just relax against him and watch the sun set, and the sound of his quiet snores when he insists he wants to watch you watch your favourite shows, only to end up falling asleep.

there’s none of that here, in this moment.

you take off your shoes and kick them to the side, not bothering to open the cabinet to put them inside because the doors make a particularly loud sound when they snap shut, and you don’t want to risk waking seungcheol up again.

it’s been an odd couple of weeks, with you staying out late because of more work and seungcheol staying in because his workload has been relatively less for the beginning of the new year. him being at home would’ve made you happy if you didn’t have to apologize for cancelling and rescheduling dates, or for being left with energy enough only for a bath and a quick dinner, movie plus cuddling sessions replaced by cuddling in your sleep. if you were lucky to get back home in time, that is.

you stop and listen for a few moments. there’s no sound to be heard. the door to your bedroom is shut, which means that seungcheol must have already gone to sleep.

a little pang of hurt stabs your heart. it’s not like you want him to keep late hours for you, but you’re not exactly doing well in these trying times, and you’d really love to have his voice wash out your worries.

a resounding bang from the kitchen startles you. before you can even think of the worst possible scenario that could’ve just transpired, seungcheol walks out of the kitchen, a rolling pin in one hand and some flour on his hair and his rolled up sleeves. the literal definition of a hot mess.

“hey, baby,” he says, eyes widening when he sees you. “i was expecting you to be back in an hour or two.”

so it’s that bad, huh? it’s become normal for him to expect you to come back even later? you focus on the stains on his clothes instead, and the rolling pin that seems so out of place in his hand. “what exactly are you doing?”

“nothing! well, nothing much. yet. maybe you should stay out of here for a while.”

one thing about seungcheol is that he never keeps secrets. he can’t tell you a white lie to save his life, much less a black lie. “cheol,” you say, frowning, “both of us know you don’t even cook. are you baking? and why’s there flour in your hair?”

“sieving accident,” he mumbles, so quiet that you almost don’t catch it.

“should i be afraid?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. you feel like your tears are a short distance away, and you really, really hope he’s done nothing more. something tells you that isn’t it, however.

“not really!” says seungcheol, but you can read him like glass at this point. the little nervous laugh and the way his nose twitches when he tries spinning facts makes you dread what you’re going to find inside. “maybe you should have a nice bath before you sleep? did you have dinner yet?”

you try to move past him into the kitchen but he blocks the entrance with his broad frame. the one time this isn’t sexy.

“cheol, let me in.”

“not until you tell me the password.”

“there’s a password now? what, something like choi seungcheol is the best?”

he giggles. “close.”

you sigh. “cheol, i’m really not in the mood to play games right now. please tell me what’s going on in there?”

he tries pulling that face, the one with the puppy eyes, where he looks at you so pleadingly that you’re generally ready to fold and do whatever he asks of you, but right now it just doesn’t work on you. the more evasive he is, the more worried you get. before he can react, you duck under his outstretched arms and into the kitchen.

rather, into the mess he’s made of the kitchen.

you’ve heard stories about junhui trying to bake. they sounded absolutely hilarious, and you’ve always wondered how he could mess up so bad that he managed to land waffle batter on the ceiling. especially when he didn’t even own a ladder to try and clean it.

it’s not funny when it’s your house that has some batter on the walls. at least it’s not the ceiling, you think, a bit hysterical, until you see flour on the…everywhere. it’s just everywhere. the counter, near the sink, in front of the oven like it’s a modern day trail of breadcrumbs that hansel and gretel would’ve followed. there’s also baking supplies scattered all over, an extremely huge sheet of baking paper lining a tray that’s sitting next to a bunch of bowls.

it’s a mess, to say the least.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol says, gently turning you away from the sight of it. he winces when he sees your face. you don’t even know what your face looks like. all you know is that you’re tired, that you need a break, and that the last thing you would have liked to see today was your boyfriend’s face while he was peacefully asleep, and not…this.

you shake your head but no words come out.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol repeats, setting the rolling pin down on the counter. a comical little cloud of flour rises and settles. what kind of accident even was that? “i was just…trying to bake.”

“cheol, you didn’t even know why we use baking soda till last week!”

“hey!” he says, defensive. “i asked you so i could learn. and i know this isn’t great, but—” his words dry up when he notices where your gaze lies — on the batch of cookies that are burned beyond belief.

you can’t believe your eyes, either. you’re not the biggest baker in the world, but you’ve never burned anything you’ve baked. especially not in your first attempt. maybe you’d have given up the courage to bake again if that had happened, but seungcheol clearly isn’t that bothered by it.

you don’t know if it’s because of how pitiful they look, or how long your day has been, but you feel a lump rise in your throat.

“you never even do this,” you whisper, only focusing on his face and not the mess around you. “why did you think you had to do this today?”

“am i not allowed to try things if i want to?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“it’s not that, cheol,” you say, trying to be as reasonable as possible. “i’d ask you for some help before trying something i’ve never done before. you never, ever do this. only when i ask you to help me. why today?”

“because i wanted to,” he says, almost flippant. “i’ll clean it up before you know it.”

but it’s not about the mess. it’s not about the burnt cookies. it’s not about the way he tried to block you from seeing the state of the kitchen. it’s the finality in his tone. it’s the fact that it’s not a big deal to him because he hasn’t had the day you’ve had.

seungcheol’s eyes widen when he sees your lips tremble. “are you seriously mad at me? for baking?”

“do whatever you want,” you hiss, tired and angry, feeling a single tear slide down your cheek. “i shouldn’t have looked inside.” you turn to walk away before it becomes a full fledged cascade of tears, but you don’t go far because of the hand holding on to your wrist.

“stop,” he says, holding you strong enough that it becomes futile to try and escape.

“let me go, seungcheol,” you say, avoiding his face.

“oh, no,” he breathes out, and the next thing you know is that your face is cradled in his hands and there’s a warm kiss pressed to your forehead. and your nose. and your lips. and it keeps repeating till you push him away, your face in his hands. you can feel the ugly emotions inside you ebbing away slowly, reducing to small embers that prickle the slightest bit.

“what are you doing?” you ask weakly.

“you said do whatever i want, right?” he asks, a smile on his face.

that gets you to break, for some reason. you would’ve forgiven him even if he’d gotten batter on the ceiling, because this — the sight of seungcheol with flour in his otherwise perfect hair, wearing an old shirt and beaming at you even though you’ve snapped at him — kills even those small embers.

you press your face to his chest and let the tears out silently.

seungcheol rubs your back. “hey,” he says softly. “let it out, okay? and i’m sorry about the mess. i meant it when i said i’ll clean—”

“it’s not that,” you whisper. “just…hold me?”

seungcheol complies, and you find yourself swaying in his hold in the silence of your house.

“want to talk to me about it?” he offers when you pull away, feeling slightly better. “i’m—”

“stop apologizing to me, cheol,” you say, laughing a little wetly. “it’s not the kitchen. i’ve just…i’ve been missing you like crazy and i miss just being with you without doing anything. i hate coming home late and seeing you asleep by yourself in our bed. i want…i want things to go back to the way they were.”

“so, a bad week?”

“more than one.”

“but you have me here at the end of every single day, right?” seungcheol says, pushing up the corners of your lips to make you smile. you do smile, but it’s because of the cute grin he has on his face. “we’ll get through it before you know it.”

you sigh. “it sounds good when you say it like that.”

“because i mean it. also, one more thing.”

“yeah?”

“please don’t ever call me by my whole name again.”

“only if you mess up the kitchen that bad again.”

“hey!”

“also, why were you baking in the first place?”

“because i wanted to cheer you up,” he says, sheepish, and you want to do nothing more than hold his face and kiss him silly.

“you’re an idiot, baby,” you say, cradling his face in your hands. “but you’re my idiot. and i love you.”

seungcheol’s blushing face is quite possibly enough to get you through tomorrow.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

#alternative title: everything everywhere flour at once #scoups #scoups fluff #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #fluff #coups #waldau writes #req

[urhoneycombwitch]

I'm currently so bogged down with end of year college assignments and it's distracting me from the really important things in life (Eddie) (and also ur blog). I'll love you forever if you could please write something sweet and domestic (maybe smutty who knows) about reader coming home to babyboy after a long day of being busy and just catching up🥺💕

foreword: wrote this with linecook!Eddie in mind hope that’s ok! some fluff and comfort for ur dash <3

wc: 1.2k

cw: fluff, food eating, soft Eddie who’s also kinda… soft!dom in this, gn!reader (pet names used)

___

The long work day has finally caught up with you, hitting like a freight train just as you drag your weary self through Eddie’s door. Every limb feels heavy as you clumsily pull your arms from your coat sleeves, fingers blundering through the motions of unlacing your work boots.

“Eddie?” Even your voice sounds tired. There’s no sign of your boy in the living room or kitchen; you push open his bedroom door, only to still in the doorframe.

Eddie’s stretched out facedown on his bed, cheeks rosy with sleep and half-squished against the patchwork quilt. His hair is a riotous sprawl down the thin white tank top of his back, dark strands curling in on themselves with the rise and fall of his deep, slumbering breaths.

You tiptoe around the pile of his work clothes on the carpet- he must have just beat you home- and fondly stroke a hand down the slope of his back. He twitches in his sleep, hand tucked under his chest mindlessly seeking your affection.

You give in, for the time being. Strip down to your own underclothes, slot the length of your body next to his, let your bare legs tangle together while you nuzzle at the top of his head.

Eddie smells smoky and warm, like the cigarettes from his smoke breaks; he was on grill today, you think, maple pancakes and the heavy fattiness of bacon faint under the Irish Spring and cologne he’d dotted onto his neck this morning.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but the next thing you know, Eddie’s lips are pulling you from a dream, hazy with love. He kisses your cheek, the arch of your brow, strokes a ring-cooled knuckle down the column of your neck before kissing there, too.

“What d’ya want for dinner, angel?”

His voice is thick with sleep. Your lashes flutter in response.

“Mmm. A nap.”

Eddie chuckles, leans forward to mouth at the top of your shoulder. “How about pasta?”

You hum lightly in affirmation, sliding an elbow into the mattress to start getting up- but Eddie squeezes the meat of your arm, stilling your movements.

“Where you goin’?”

Through bleary eyes, you find the dark chocolate of Eddie’s, which are trained on your face with sparkling amusement.

“Uh. Was gonna help you? I’m not the only one who worked a long shift today-”

“Absolutely not.” His hair ripples over both shoulders as he shakes his head. “You think I’m lettin’ you be sous-chef after starting a fire in my damn kitchen? Forget about it.”

You scoff, defiant, pushing up into your arm to glare- “It was a paper towel that briefly caught alight. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Fat chance.” Eddie puts one big hand over the entirety of your face, pushing until you give, maneuvering your head back to the pillow. “I’m making pasta and you’re gonna lie here all pretty ‘til it’s done. Capiche?”

In answer, you pout, but close your eyes obediently- from experience, you know it’s pointless to argue.

He presses a final kiss to your temple, taking the warmth of his hands with him as he heads to the kitchen.

You doze for the next few minutes, sleep flirting at the edges of your mind, the clanking and bustling noises from down the hall a familiar backdrop that nearly lulls you back to dreamland.

“Soup’s on.” Eddie pads back into the room, light from the hallway cutting a bright path against the floor. His palm cups the side of your cheek, then slips down to pat at your hip. “C’mon. Up.”

He’s irritatingly pushy tonight- but then, he’s always in a mood until you’ve eaten something. That protective nature overrides Eddie’s deep desire to snuggle back up to you on the bed; he slides a hand around your wrist, coaxing gentle but firm until you’re on your feet.

A steady palm at your lower back guides you down the hall, to the dining chair. Buttery smells hang in the air, tantalizing as Eddie places two bowls on the table. There’s a steaming whorl of linguini in both, oily noodles flecked with pesto, roasted veggies gleaming in a colorful arc around one side.

You watch as Eddie quietly slides a fork across the scratched wood surface, settling into his own chair, leaning back with one eyebrow raised.

Out of habit, you pick up the fork to twirl around some pasta, stabbing a piece of broccoli on the end for good measure before taking a bite. The flavors flood in, rich and smooth, a low ‘mmm’ of approval- not solely for Eddie’s benefit. He’s a goddamn fantastic cook.

Satisfied with your reaction, Eddie digs in, too. A pleasant, quiet few minutes pass as you both eat. The last bits of light from the window above the sink dim, the sun giving way to dusk. From the distant forest, a mourning dove coos, and a Joni Mitchell song from a neighbor’s porch radio answers in fragments.

There’s soft lamplight from the adjoining living room, casting Eddie’s face in ochre glow as he scoots both your empty bowls to the side. He rises, then tsks at you when you reach for the dishes- “Don’t even think about it-” before pulling you with him towards the couch.

Stomach full and satiated, you allow yourself to be maneuvered by his hands once again- this time he settles on a couch cushion, tossing a pillow between his planted feet on the ground for you to sit.

“Hardly seems fair,” you argue, weakly, although you’re already sat, his thumbs pressing at the nape of your neck. “You already made dinner and now you’re… you…”

Your resolve gives out in a single move as Eddie starts massaging the tight muscles near your spine, snaking his fingers up with practiced pressure.

“Wha-at,” he complains back in equal measure, faux-pity more on the mocking side when he follows the line of muscle up into your scalp, working underneath your hair now with a scalp scratch that feels so good it should be illegal- “Can’t just let me take care of you? S’wrong with that?”

If you opened your mouth surely nothing but a moan or equally telling, garbled speech would escape, so you shut it. Let your neck loll and go lax into Eddie’s touch, sink deeper into the V of his legs.

He murmurs some praise in response, words that you’re too far gone to hear, but it’s accompanied by a quick brush of his lips to the crown of your head before his fingers soothe further up.

The Joni song ends, fades into the steady rhythm of Eddie working out all the tension from your muscles with loving hands, the promise of a comforting evening like a warm blanket around you both.

#what can i say linecook!Eddie really brings out the sub buried deep within me #not sorry #linecook!Eddie #linecook!Eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #lu’s anons #e.m. thots from lu

[luvaurae]

Simon “ghost” Riley x reader 🫶🏼

This is my first tumblr post, go easy on me 🙏 I’m not sure how it sounds or if I like it or not, sorry if there’s typos ‼️

You and Simon had been together for about 6 months now. Normally Simon was deployed and sent away to work for 3-4 months (depending on the job.) which wasn’t the best. You always had to sit in your little yet cozy apartment without his presence, and sometimes when you needed him most, he wasn’t there. When you were in the shower, he wasn’t standing behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist. When you were in bed, he wasn’t spooning you and keeping you warm. When you cooked dinner, you had no one to serve it to except yourself. Obviously you loved him, but it was so hard to get up for your own work in the morning without him groaning and saying things like - “..five more minutes luv’ .” Or “.. jus’ call work n tell em ya sick, please dove?”. But you knew his job was important, and it helped the both of them with rent and food shopping.

———————————

As you jangled your keys into your doorknob, trying your best to shove it in as your eyes fluttered open and shut. You had just been on a six-hour shift at work and felt as if you were going to pass out every time you moved any part of your body. Eventually you managed to open up your apartment door, shutting it and locking it behind you without even turning back. You dropped your bag to the floor next to your shoe rack before making your way into bed, taking off your coat as you do so. You awkwardly rub your eyes before hopping into bed with your work t-shirt and your panties, pulling the blanket up trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. As soon as your head hits your pillow, you’re out cold. Snoring, not so quietly. You’re positive the whole of the building can hear it.

It was about 5:05pm.

You woke up to the sound of your door opening. It couldn’t be Simon, could it?.. he told you another week? He texted you and said specifically “captain said another week lovie, I’m sorry.” You shot up from your bed, not making a creak. You tiptoed into your closet, where a wooden bat had been lying against the wall (it was the one your dad gave you before you moved out.) you wrapped your hands around the handle as you opened your door, slowly yet carefully. Sweat building up within your palms, yet your grip on the bat extremely hard. You manage to tiptoe out of your room, the rest of your apartment still dark as you heard sounds coming from your kitchen. You gripped the bat with two hands before running into the kitchen and swinging it at the figures head, you told yourself you got a pretty good hit. Yet as the light from the refrigerator shines on the figure.. it was Simon. Of course it was.

———————————

“I’m so sorry baby. I didn’t know it was you.” I say shakily pressing a cold freezer pack wrapped in a cloth onto Simon’s head as he rested on our bed.

“Don’t be sorry dove. At least I know ya know how to protect ya self’” Simon’s says in his deep British accent, giving off a small chuckle at the end. I felt horrible, yet at the same time proud. And honestly it felt a little good to get him back for not having much time to spend with me.

“How come your back so early? And why didn’t you text me?” I say pulling away the ice pack from his head and placing it on my side table as I now tuck myself beside him in our bed.

“I dunno, and I knew i shou’ve but I didn’t want to disturb my Angel in er’ beauty sleep.” Simon gives another chuckle. God sometimes I had forgotten how beautiful he was. I smile at him as my head rested against the pillow, now just staring at him as I take in his features. For a moment I was in my own world, just thinking about how gorgeous he was.

“I missed you.” I say in a slightly tired and grumbled voice as I snap out of my trance and close my eyes.

“I missed you too, luv.” Simon gives me a soft peck on my shoulder before turning off the lamp and spooning me, sliding his arm underneath mine and pulling me close to him so that his warmth radiated me.

#call of duty #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost #simon riley x reader

[l4zyb0n35]

THE BREAKING POINT

SMUT FIC

PAIRING: Alastor x F!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is a diligent worker, much to the chagrin of her partner, Alastor. Despite his efforts to get her to stop for both their sakes, Y/N remains steadfast in her duties. However, Alastor finds a loophole to this situation.

WARNINGS: Really really great awesome writing skills, Established romantic relationship, (can be seen as dating, fiancé, or married), AFAB reader, usage of Y/N, Sexual content (obv), Mature themes, Mature language, Nudity, Breastfeeding, Unprotected sex, MINORS DNI FOR UR OWN SAFTEY, Alastor manipulates her but only to get her to stop cleaning the hardwood floor, Alastor kinda controls her but not too much. Let me know if i missed anything :3

NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.<

WORDS: 2.4k

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You were a very hardworking woman around the hotel, to say the least.

Your excuse? “Well, Charlie is just dealing with so much, what’s my help going to harm but not… help?”

Ever since your dear partner, Alastor, invited you to live with him in his hotel room at the Hazbin Hotel, just to be closer as a couple,

You would not stop fucking working.

It’s driving him mad.

He has recently tried everything to get you to relax, to take it easy for once, but you were too stubborn for that. He couldn’t even believe how much work you did for such a small pay. It was honestly ridiculous since you weren’t even a maid, if that was what you were thinking.

So what if you were a bit of a clean freak, it wasn’t any reason to clean the entire damn hotel every day, including the outside, may we add.

You wouldn’t listen to his advice though, no matter how many times he told you to stop.

“Y/N, I swear if you keep cleaning the hotel I’m gonna…do something very bad,” he threatened one day while you were scrubbing down the lobby.

You chuckled, ignoring his threat.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart, m’ not gonna lose a limb.” you said with a smile.

Alastor sighed, watching as you continued to scrub the floors.

“You’re just being stubborn, Y/N,” he mumbled under his breath.

‘My last resort, I suppose.’ he concluded in his thoughts, looking around to make sure nobody would hear them.

After making sure that they were alone at the scene, he walked back over to you, trying to fix his composure.

“…When will you come back to bed with me, dear? It’s been cold without you.” Alastor said, kneeling down to her level as he put on his fake facade.

You paused for a moment and turned to him, “Aw, Al, you miss my spot being filled in the bed?” You said, rubbing his shoulder.

He nodded, “It’s never the same without you, I’m afraid.” He tried to soften his smile.

“…You’re not just saying that, right?” You said, losing your smile and pausing your hand.

“What? No-no. I would never lie to you dear.” He said, defending himself.

“…When do you want me in bed, hm?” You said, picking up your supplies and ignoring your suspicions, “I need to shower, after all.” You added.

Alastor stood up, “Now?” He asked, trying to sound hopeful.

“Mm, sure.” You nodded, walking off with your bucket of cleaning supplies.

He silently celebrated his victory.

* * *

Alastor’s ears perked up as he heard the shower turn off.

He was currently laying in bed with only a robe on and some boxers, staring off into the bayou and he brainstormed what he could do to get you to stop working.

He decided a couple minutes ago that his only option left were to ‘have intercourse’.

It was quite smart, actually. All he had to do was take your ability to walk.

So he waited as your blow dried your hair, trying to ignore his unpleasant boner from beneath the cloth of his boxers.

He waited even more when you picked which robe to wear to bed,

which, as you stepped out the steamy chamber, was a red silk robe with Alastor’s initials on it, your favorite.

He had a smug look on his face, seeing you step out in his clothing.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were waiting for me.” You said, seeing Alastor sitting up in bed.

He smiled at you, “No worries, dear,” he said, standing up and putting his hands on your hips.

“I was just waiting for you to come to bed.” He said, bringing his lips close to yours.

You laughed softly, pulling back after a moment, “What’s the occasion, dear?” You rested your forehead on his, closing your eyes.

“Hmm?” He asked, confused.

“Why are you acting so lovey-dovey with me? Is it Valentine’s Day already?” You laughed again, resting your head against his chest.

“Oh, don’t act so surprised, darling.” He said, leaning forward and kissing your temple.

“But, really, what’s the occasion?” You asked, moving back to give him space.

“Well…” He said, thinking quickly, “I figured you deserved a break after all of that hard work you put in recently.” He said, smiling again.

“Oh, your so sweet, Al.” You commented, caressing his cheek.

He leaned into your touch, “Yes…so i decided, what better to do so than taking your ability to walk for the next morning?” He sighed sweetly.

You paused, “…forget about Valentine’s day, did rut season come early?” You said, raising an eyebrow.

Alastor grinned, “It’ll definitely feel like it.” He said, grabbing your waist and laid you flat on the bed.

He moved down to your neck, kissing and suckling on it.

“Alastor…” You laughed out softly, more in a mumble.

“…Sshh, just let me do my thing, okay?” He whispered in your ear, continuing into your neck until he was sure to leave a mark, latching off of it with a ‘pop’.

He then made his way down, stopping at your breasts, cupping them in his hands and giving each nipple a gentle tug before resting his lips onto one of them.

He sucked and nibbled on it, moving to the other breast and doing the same.

He stopped, hearing you moan quietly under him, “Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked, looking up at your face.

“Oh, yes,” you gasped out, feeling your legs go weak as you lay there, “Keep going.” You added, running your fingers through his hair.

Alastor smiled, continuing to kiss your breasts until he felt you get wetter and wetter.

He sat up, sliding your robe off of you and throwing it somewhere across the room, leaving you in just your panties.

His eyes widened a bit at the sight of your body, “How did i end up with a sinner so beautiful.” He said, resting his head on your stomach, giving the fat of your hip a squeeze.

He ran his hands up and down your thighs, stopping at your panties and pulled them off of you, tossing them aside.

He then spread your legs apart and started to rub your clit gently with his thumb.

You let out a soft moan as you let out a jolt throughout your body from the contact, “F-fuck…” You breathed.

Alastor smiled and brought his free hand to your mouth, “Lick.” He commanded, placing his index finger on your tongue.

You obeyed, tasting your juices on his fingers.

He swiftly pulled the claw out your mouth, then slowly slipping two of them into your gummy walls.

You moaned out again as he curled his fingers inside you, thrusting them in and out of your hole.

He pulled his fingers out of you, sucking them clean as he moved your body to the center of the bed, sitting on his knees atop of you.

“Now,” he grabbed your left left, throwing it stop his shoulder, “You know the safe word, dear?” He said, grabbing ahold of his member and teasing your entrance with it.

You nodded, moving your hips for some more friction.

“Needy, I see…” You pulled his cock farther from her, “I need words, dear.”

“Y-yes, Alastor…” You struggled out.

He started to fist his member slowly, “Wouldn’t want to hurt my prized possession.”

After a moment, he pulled his hand away to put another leg up on his shoulder, scooting in and rubbing his duck along your slick folds.

“O-oh….” You breathed out as his meat hit your nub, “P-Put it in, Al…” You mumbled.

“Hm, what was that?” He stoped his member, resting it upon your nub as a tease.

You bit your lip, grinding against his dick, desperate for him to put it in.

He chuckled, pulling it back, making you stop.

You let out a whimper.

Alastor looked at you with a lustful look, his smile widening. “I need you to beg for it, dear.” He claimed, enjoying the moment.

You blushed, looking away for a moment.

Alastor tilted his head, grabbing his member again and started fisting it slowly.

You gulped, looking back at him, still not meeting his gaze, and whispered something incoherent.

He grasped your chin, turning it so you would look at him. “What’s wrong dear? losing interest in my so suddenly?” He said, making you shake your head, “Hm…then beg for it.”

"Please, Alastor, put yourself inside of me, fill me up, fuck me, please!” You begged, moving your hips for a feeling.

He stopped your hips, growling as he pushed himself inside of you without any warning, making you moan loudly.

“F-fuck…” you cursed from the sudden movement, trying to squirm away automatically.

Alastor noticed this, pausing his movement as he grabbed your arms, then your hips and waist, getting you to stop, “What’s wrong dear?”

You looked at him, “…k-kiss me?”

He smiled softly, “Anything for my doe.” he said, leaning down and kissing you directly on the mouth.

Although, as he leaned down, his dick moved further inside you, causing you to let out a jolt once again.

He caressed your hair, “It’s already in, dear,” he mumbled lovingly on your lips, “you’ve done your work, now just relax. I’ll do everything else.”

Waiting until you nodded, he pulled away and slowly began to pull out, before thrusting in swiftly, but gently.

You whimpered softly, gripping the sheets under you.

He pulled out and pushed in again, slowly building a rhythm.

He began to thrust faster, more cruel, “Oh, Alastor…” you moaned out, holding your hands around his neck.

Wet skin slapping together filled the room’s noises, alongside the crickets in the bayou, making you blush from the awkward noises.

Alastor noticed this, beginning to buff out his breaths and growls, and silently sent over his shadow to turn on the radio to a quiet, intimate jazz station.

“Hah…Alastor…” You breathed out as he shushed you, thrusting faster.

His cock rubbed against your walls, hitting all the right spots.

After a while, Alastor started to feel a familiar coil in his abdomen, grunting as he forced his hips to go at an ungodly pace, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Gonna fuck you so good, darling…” He huffed, “Fill you up…you won’t be leaving this bed, understand?” Making you look at him directly and he moved your head with a tendril.

“Y-yes, Alastor…” You mumbled, trying to hold eye contact.

“Good girl…” He awarded verbally, growing another tendril into sight as he moved it down to run your clit, getting a high pitched moan out of you.

“F-faster, Al…I feel it…” You tightened your legs on him, tensing up.

As your tits bounced up and down from the thrusts, you couldn’t help but have to cover them because of the breeze from the bayou-

“No,” he immediately said, lifting one of his hands from clawing at the sheets and placing your hands around his neck, immediately diving down to suckle on your breasts.

“O-oh, yes!” You cried out, feeling his tongue circle around your nubs as he switched between the two.

You groaned as you felt the familiar coil in your abdomen grow after a couple thrusts, “I’m g-gonna cum soon, Al…” You scratched at his back in pleasure, trying to chase at your orgasm.

That’s when he didn’t switch to another breast, but kept sucking on one of them, rubbing and squeezing the other with his hand, making you wonder what he was doing,

Until you felt some milk come out of them.

“Ah-Ah! Alastor! I’m close!” You said, your legs shaking violently as you felt the intensity of him suck and squeeze milk out of you.

He growled, fastening his pace even more, making them even more tougher and he enter and exited your womb space, “Come for me, darling, let me hear you sing for me…”

His dirty talk only got you closer and closer to your edge, until,

You threw your head back into the mattress, arching your back as you let out a blissful cry of pleasure, clenching around him as you rode your orgasm, struggling to even keep your eyes open.

Alastor let out a beastly growl as his form quickly morphed to a more intimidating one as he shoved he cock into you one last time, releasing his seed inside you.

His cum leaked out of you as he slowly pulled out, quickly stuffing his fingers inside your hole so the cum would stay.

“What a good little for you are to me…” He said, admiring the mess you both made on the bed, and then just you laying there.

Noticing how you were still breathing heavily, not moving your body unless a little twitch, he leaned down to whisper softly, “How about some cold water, dear? Think this’ll help you relax?” He asked dotingly, making you nod instantly.

That made him chuckle, moving over to the edge of the bed as he stood up, going over to the nightstand and placing a water pitcher there from the shadows, and walking over the the bathroom for a towel.

***

As he came back from the bathroom with a hot rag in the hand, he noticed how you were half asleep, yet still conscious, which made him laugh softly as he place the rag down by the pitcher, crawling over to you.

“Mon Cher, you’re all fucked out by yours truly.” He smiled softly, fetching the rag from the nightstand with his shadow as he began to wipe your cunt clean.

When he was done, he then took notice of your breasts, how there were some stray milk on them.

Shrugging and tossing the rag aside, he leaned down and softly licked the milk off your chest.

You giggled softly in your daze, “Alastor…” You rubbed your eyes.

When he finished up, he filled a glass of water from the pitcher and turned back to you, sitting you up gently as he tipped the glass of water to your lips.

“Think you’ll be walking tomorrow?” He wondered aloud.

“Hm…will you stay with me here if i don’t?” You asked as you finished your glass.

He placed the cup down, “Of course dear,” he promised, crawling under the sheets beside you, sending his shadow to turn off the lights in the room as he cuddled close to your fragile state,

“Sleep well, dear.”

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END NOTES: I LEARNED HOW TO SPELL AWKWARD FROM WRITING THIS LETS FUCKING GO!!!! All jokes aside, (not really, now clap), i hope this fic actually turns out well because i spent 5 minutes trying to copy and paste this into a word counter and then 2 more minutes pasting this fic here because my phone sucks and it’s broken and i hate it and abuse it but like…i just hope it does well. I (hypothetically) put blood sweat and TEARS into this fic and idgaf what you think because it’s amazing for a first fic on this blog. Notes and comments, maybe even reblogs *wink wink* and also REQUESTS!!! Requests are my best friend, and always open unless I’m on vacation (which i’ll always announce). I love you guys ^^ !!

-Lynn Lazybones

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[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath Part 4 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: I did update the Ko-Fi so now you can just donate whatever you can if you would like to :)

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Warnings: Older (Mid thirties) Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Young (Early to mid 20s) Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, light choking, spanking, DIRTY TALK, hair pulling, etc. FLUFF, they like her :).

ANGST, readers ex is a dick and tries to show off (boys put him in his place ;) ), mentions of their ex with some more details of what happened, reader mentions missing them when they are away, SLIGHT cliffhanger ending but nothing too dramatic, mentions of how their life style could affect her.

Word Count: 6457

Series here

You weren’t sure how you would feel when Eddie and Steve were away on business trips. You expected to miss them terribly and you absolutely did but what surprised you was how much you were missed in return. 

One evening you got a message saying that a car was going to pick you up from work that Friday and the next thing you knew you were being driven to an airport where a private jet dropped you off at Steve’s hotel where you were met with a big grin and a fancy dinner. 

“Steve, this is too much.”

“Not to me.”, he beamed as he pulled you into his embrace and rested his head on top of yours. “I just needed to see your face.”

“Aw, did you miss me, Daddy?”, you coo making him chuckle. 

“I always miss you when you aren’t with us, pretty girl.”

Another weekend, the same driver and jet coordinated to drop you off at the back of a packed amphitheater where a big overly muscled security guy guided you backstage, where Eddie waived at you like a little kid, his long hair bouncing behind him as he ran to hug you and lift you off your feet. 

“You’re here! Ah I missed you, sweetheart, so much.”

“I missed you to.”, you giggle. 

“After the show, the guys and I were going to relax, order some beers, and a pizza. Made me think of you so I thought you’d want to join.”

“I’d love to as long as I’m not an inconvenience or anything.”

“Hey.”, he scolds, grabbing your chin firmly. “Don’t ever let me hear you say that again. You are never an inconvenience, baby girl.”

Even though they were only gone for a week or two at most, they always fucked you like they hadn’t seen you in one or two years. 

Steve’s heavy pants filled your ears as his head hung to the side of your own and your fingers tangle in his hair as your other hand clings to his shoulder. His hips thrust his cock slowly into your cunt, hitting that sensitive spot inside you roughly.

“Fuck.”

“Come on, honey. Give Daddy one more.”

“I-I can’t.”

Lifting his head, his nose grazed the tip of your own as he ever so slightly pumped into you at a faster rhythm.  

“Yes, you can, Y/N. Fuck, you feel so good. Cum on Daddy’s cock, baby. That’s it. My good girl.”

You and Eddie drunkenly laugh as the lamp by his bed falls to the floor as he stumbles into his bedside table trying to keep his lips on yours. Shoving you against the wall, you groan as he grinds his lower half between your legs and hooks his arm under your knee to lift one around his waist. 

You fumble with his belt desperate to feel him as his wet kisses trail down your neck and his tongue runs along your skin. He mewls when your soft palm wraps around his length before guiding it into your sex. As you clung to him, he rolled his hips roughly relishing the sound of your moans as your breath warms his flesh. 

“Jesus, listen to that little pussy taking Daddy’s cock. You’re so fucking wet.”

“Y-You looked so fucking sexy on stage playing your—mmm—guitar. Couldn’t stop…staring at your…fingers.”

Eddie’s thick digits slide into your mouth and your pussy clenches around him at the feeling. 

“You like my fingers and how they move, sweetheart” Again, you tighten around his cock and he growls as he pumps into you faster slamming his cock deeper inside you. “Fuck, Y/N, they’re all yours, babe. Only yours.”

After you came back home, you immediately felt their absence and it killed you but this is what you signed up for so you never said a word. You remained silent when a couple of days would go by without hearing from them because they were extremely busy. 

“Hey, baby. Why are you still at school?”, Steve asked as his voice flowed from your computer. They had both been gone this time for a little over a week and unlike other times hadn’t sent for you to come see them. They did explain that this particular trip was supposed to be a big deal for them both. 

Steve was working on new deal that would help him get recognized globally so he could expand further and Eddie wasn’t touring per say but doing the talk show circuit with his bandmates to campaign for the Grammy he personally couldn’t care less about. Even as they spoke to you, the mogul was at his desk in the hotel room flipping through documents and the rockstar looked like he was smoking on the roof of a radio station.

“I’m doing some work here, you know. Grading some papers and things like that.”

“Hm.”

“Yeah…I hear it to, Ed.”

“Hear what?”

“You’re hiding something.”, he chuckles. “Why don’t you want to go home?”

A heavy exhale leaves your lips as you lean back in your chair. 

“I’ve gotten used to you being there and when you’re not… it just feels empty.” They softly smile at your admission and suddenly you can’t seem to stop yourself as the words begin to flow. “My apartment also doesn’t really have a lot of your stuff, you know? It’s like when you’re gone, you disappear completely. Add in the fact that you have to pretend like I’m not yours so I see girls touch you and flirt… I hear you tell reporters you’re single which…I guess you are but…”

“Y/N, sweetheart—”

Eddie’s voice in your ear is interrupted when someone loudly knocks on your door making you jump. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Holden. You scared me.”

“I scared you? Pretty much everyone has gone home. Why are you still here? Who are you talking to? You’re new boyfriend?”

“None of your fucking business. We had a deal. Get out of my classroom and leave me alone before I give you another black eye.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see both men had completely stopped what they were doing to focus on you, realizing now you were talking to ex. 

“You always did like it rough, babe.”

“I’m not your ‘babe’ or ‘baby’.”

“Hm but I’m always going to be your Daddy, sweetie.” You weren’t sure if your ex could feel it but you definitely did through the screen as Eddie and Steve’s anger radiated through. “Look, calm down, I just heard your voice and came by to ask if you were going to the faculty thing tomorrow?”

You glared at him with equally annoyed eyes making him chuckle sarcastically. 

“I’m just asking because I’d love to meet your new man. Maybe exchange some stories—”

“Like how you’re so desperate for attention, you physically hurt me, put a picture of us in a book I borrowed, and are now here puffing up your chest like a peacock, you fucking idiot? Trust me, you have never nor will you ever be MY Daddy. The men—man—I’m with showed me what having that title actually means.”

“Hm, well they, I mean he, will learn how much of a pain in the ass you are and you’ll come crawling back, Y/N. You always do. Why even bother hiding it if you have multiple men in your life. You were also always a bit of a freak. It’s unfortunate, unlike myself, most men can’t handle a woman with your…proportions. Have a good night, honey.”

Your eyelids flutter slightly at his passing insult as he walks away. 

“What’s the faculty thing?”

You jumped when Eddie’s voice roughly pulled through your earbuds. 

“We’re doing a costume party at the school for Halloween since the actual holiday is on a school day.”, you answer with a crack in your voice you try to hide. “I’m sorry.”

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for, baby?”

“I just… I feel like he wasn’t only being a dick to me but you guys.”

“Look at us, sweetheart.” When you do as your told, you take in there still seemingly agitated demeanors even though their eyes reflect nothing but care for you. “You are absolutely right, he was. But you were also right about the fact that we know the true meaning of the word Daddy when it comes to you. All that matters to us is how you’re feeling.”

“I’m going to send Thomas to come get you, Y/N—”

“You can’t. It’s another reason he was coming in here to stir up trouble. He already knew I was going to the party. I have to…we all do… I wish you could come with me.”

“We can. We may be fashionably late but—”

“No, no Steve. This trip is extremely important for you two. I’ll be ok, trust me. I can handle one asshole.”

##################

You grin as you watch you teacher friends dance out on the floor as you sip from the red cup in your hand. You had sent the guys a picture of you in your white angel costume knowing Steve would love the white high heels and Eddie would go crazy over the relatively short spaghetti strap dress but neither man responded. 

Assuming they were busy with work, you made sure to keep them updated, letting them know when you got to the school and that you were safe. 

“Y/N, come on! Dance with us!”

Placing your drink in the trash, you sauntered over to your friend, laughing as you allowed yourself to let go and have fun. As the music began to slow and people paired off, you shuffled to the side, taking a seat in one of the empty chairs to look through your messages. 

The seats on either side of you suddenly became occupied but you didn’t think anything of it until one of the strangers spoke directly to you. 

“Beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be distracted by her phone.”

“Hm. Thankfully I’m my own woman and I don’t answer to you so…”

“Technically, princess, you do unless you decided you don’t want us anymore.”

Your head abruptly lifted, your eyes coming face to face with a handsome devil in a red mask. His long hair was pulled into a ponytail held back by devil horns and his matching red suit had you salivating as it clung perfectly to his frame. 

“Eddie? What are you doing here?”, you whisper. “You had an interview tonight!”

“You’re more important than a meeting and an interview.”

Swiveling towards the other voice, you took in Steve’s all black suit with an equally colored mask and horns as well. 

“So, angel, you wanna dance?”

Grinning, you nod your head and take his hand as he rises and leads you to the dance floor where he places his palms on your waist while you put your own on his shoulders. 

“Steve, you really didn’t have to come here.”

“I know we didn’t have to. Remember, baby, we never do anything we don’t want to do. Plus, you’ve been coming to meet us these past couple of months, we wanted to show you that we can do the same.”

“Really? I think Daddy was just jealous.”, you giggle. 

“Yes and no.” Your smile grows as he spins you before pulling you back to his chest where you rest your head. “The fact that this fucker thinks you still belong him did spike those feelings but it was more the fact that he had the audacity to disrespect you and hurt you.”

“He didn’t hurt me.”

Strong fingers grip your chin forcing you to look up at him. 

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

“I can handle it.”, you murmur.

“I know you can. It’s one of the many reasons we like you but, honey, what we’re telling you is you don’t haveto.”

Tilting up on your toes, you kiss his lips as he smiles against them. 

“Do you, um, do you guys want to see my room?”

***

“Look at you, you nerd.”, Eddie teases as he points to your bookshelf full of the usual English books you would see on a reading list. 

“Said the Dungeons and Dragons geek.”, you jest making him throw a wink your way. “The school district requires they read one ‘English’ book a semester and write a report. A lot of these kids struggle financially so I try to make it easy where I can.”

“Who’s this? Your parents?”, Steve asks as he holds up a framed photo you have on your desk. 

“Yeah, that’s my mom and my dad. This right here is my best friend since grade school. She’s still in my hometown but we talk as much as we can.”

“Seems like you gave up a lot to come up here with…Holden?...was it?”

“I told you I was stupid.”

The rockstar smiles as walks over to you and lifts you up onto your desk. 

“You weren’t stupid, sweetheart. You were in love and hopeful. We get that.”

Your head slightly hangs as you glide your hands down his arms to hold his hands while your silent question hovers in the atmosphere. 

“Yes.”, Steve answers before he jumps up on to the desk to sit beside you. “We did love her…Gina. We’re still trying to figure out if there was ever a point where she loved us back.”

“With how it all ended, we’re thinking no but…”, Eddie shrugs. 

“How long were you together?”

“Officially? On and off for 2 years, I think. Right, Harrington?”

“Yeah, but we were friends before that. We met her at a film screening for one of her mom’s movies a few years prior. She could be a bit of a brat but she didn’t have a kind heart like you.”, he grins as he reaches for your hand and intertwines his fingers with your own. “She could never really turn it off. She was rude to everyone and that nepotism leaked out constantly.”

“What made you leave?”

“It was a couple of things but the main one being her cheating with some twenty something football quarterback. Paparazzi caught her in the back of his jeep and plastered the image everywhere. She had the audacity to run to us after to see if we could make it go away.”, Eddie sighed as he stepped forward and rested his head on your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I would never do anything like that. I can be a bit of bitch when I need to but—”

The rockstar’s lips cut you off for a brief moment before you wrap your arms around him and hug him to your chest. 

“We trust you, Y/N. That’s why we’re trying to be more open and let you in.”

You wished you could pause this moment and revel in it for a long while with you tangled in both their arms. You felt so safe with them which is something you had been desperately looking to attain for a long while even when you were with your ex. After you moved away from everything you knew, you struggled to find your footing and Holden didn’t make it easy. You always felt like you were falling through the cracks which strengthened you own resolve but you were tired. With these two men here, you could finally feel safe letting go. 

“Wow, when I said multiple men, Y/N, I didn’t think you’d have them at one time.”, Holden echoed sarcastically as he leaned in the doorframe of your classroom. 

As they turned to look at him, they took a few seconds to take him in before Eddie loudly cackled as a wide toothy grin painted Steve’s features. Your ex was dressed like the front man of one of his favorite bands, Corroded Coffin, but it was very haphazardly put together.

“Oh my god. Sorry, man. I can’t wait to show Gareth this. He’s going to flip shit when he sees how assholes perceive him.” Eddie continues to laugh as he takes a picture with his phone. 

“So you are thee Holden?”, the mogul asks as he sizes up the man in front of him. 

“I am and I don’t appreciate the condescension.”

“Well, we don’t appreciate the way you treat and talk to Y/N so we’ll call it even. We’ve actually been dying to meet you. We heard what you said yesterday about still being this beautiful woman’s Daddy.”

“Oh, you heard that huh? Good. Trust me, boys, you can’t handle a little brat like her.”

“Is that why you put your hands on her?”

“Please. I don’t know what she told you but I know her. She’s a needy thing that likes it a lot rougher than most girls.”, he shrugs. 

Steve sarcastically smiles turning towards Eddie who does the same. 

“See, Holden, there’s a few problems with that. The first being, that little one there…she’s ours. You put your hands on something that doesn’t belong to you.” The mogul moves out of the way as the rockstar’s fist flies, hitting your ex in the nose before grabbing him and shoving him to the ground. “Secondly, she does like it rough but she consents to that with us. She told you no and, Holden, no means no. Can you say that for me?”

“Fuck you, dick!”

This time Steve’s the one that punches him. 

“Try again.”

It takes a couple more smacks before he finally submits. 

“No means no! Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“We know, bud. Come on now. On your feet. Good boy.”, Eddie responds calmly as he guides the man to a standing position clinging to his collar. “But we aren’t the ones you should be apologizing to.” Shoving him in front of you, they wait for him to continue and when he doesn’t the rockstar’s ringed hand smacks the back of his head. “Go on, dumbass. Geez, what did you see him?”

You smirk as your eyes narrow playfully in his direction.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Y/N.”

As Holden glances towards Steve, the man rolls his eyes as he gives him a keep going motion with his hand. 

“Um, I’m sorry for hurting you on our date and calling you a whore. I, uh, and for bothering you at work e-e-even though we agreed I wouldn’t.”

“And?”

“And what?!”, your ex yelled sarcastically causing Eddie to push him to his knees.

“Holden, we heard you talk about her weight and from what she’s told us we know it’s not the first time.”

“I find it amusing that you seem to think most men can’t handle her ‘proportions’ yet your way is to bring her down and make her feel like she’s unattractive. That really is a shame because quite honestly she’s the most beautiful woman we’ve met and that’s without taking into account how fucking sexy her body is.” Holden’s eyes meet yours as Steve speaks. “I also think it’s interesting she seems to think she’s a brat to yet, Ed, have we experienced that side of her yet?”

“Nope. I mean she’s a bit sarcastic but I wouldn’t say bratty. More than anything she’s confident and knows what she wants. Nothing a Daddy can’t handle.”

The mogul sunk down on his heels to get on your ex’s level. 

“That’s why you lost her. You, little boy, thought you could handle a woman like Y/N. MEN can handle her attitude and her proportions. Do you know why?”

“Because we don’t see it as something that needs to be handled.”, the rockstar answers for him. “We wouldn’t have her any other way.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I promise I’ll leave you be.”, Holden sighs as his head hangs.

“Good boy.”, Steve praises as they help him to his feet again and dusts off his outfit. “Come on, baby.”

He reaches for your hand and you immediately take it, walking with them towards the door before they both pause. 

“Oh and Holden.” The man lifts his mask to his forehead making your ex’s eyes widen. “If you ever hurt her again, we won’t be so nice. I have some friends in high places.”

“Honestly, buddy, it’s best if you just not talk to her at all unless it involves school. Trust us, we’ll find out if you cross anymore lines.”, Eddie adds as he lifts his own mask and winks.

##################

“Where are we?”, you ask as Steve takes out a set of keys and jiggles it in the lock. 

You knew they weren’t taking you home when they passed all the regular streets it took to get there but when they stopped at a building that wasn’t a hotel you became curious. 

“Our place.”, he answers as he slowly opens their front door and gestures for you to enter. 

They watch with amused eyes as you gradually step forward and take in their massive apartment. The living room was spacious and open with tall ceilings and large glass doors that opened to a pool on their balcony. Beyond that you were able to see the beautiful city lights that made you smile. Maneuvering down a hallway, the first room you found had to be Steve’s with the strong cologne smell that made you swoon. 

There was a large bed in the corner with a small gym area he created off to the side. Your fingers ran along his suits in his closet but you were more fascinated by the polo and t-shirts you had yet to see him in. Against the wall by his window was his desk and you took in all the paperwork scattered across the wood.

A framed photo by his bed catches your eye and you pick it up, giving it a good once over before flashing it in his direction. The photo was one he had taken one of the many times you went to go visit him during his business trips. You had both been talking on the balcony of his hotel with one of his shirts wrapped around your naked frame. While you were leaning over the railing looking out into city below, he had come up behind you, wrapping his arms your waist as he kissed your cheek and snapped the image.

“You have a picture of me?”

“I have a lot of pictures of you.”

“I know I mean…”, you giggle. “You have a picture of me by your bed in a frame.”

“Yeah, of course. I like that your face is one of the last things I see before I fall asleep.”

He softly smiles your way and you feel like your heart is going to explode. 

“I have one to.”, Eddie beams as he gestures across the way and you immediately head towards his room. 

A wide smile painted your feature when you entered the rockstars area and were promptly hit with the smell of cigarettes and his own signature body scent. Along the walls were posters of other metal bands and guitars he had collected over the years. His floor was littered with his own clothes and on his dresser you took note of the many fantasy books you had actually begun reading so you could understood what he enjoyed. 

On his bedside table there were a few photos of different people. One was of a gorgeous woman who looked exactly like him that you assumed was his mother. Another was of him with an older gentleman rolling his eyes backstage at one of their concerts wearing a Corroded Coffin t-shirt as Eddie threw his arm around him throwing up the rock n’ roll symbol with his tongue hanging out. 

Beside that was his picture of you at one of the after-concert parties you attended with him and his friends. You were sitting on his lap with his arms tangled around you as his forehead rested against your cheek with you both tenderly grinning.

“We thought, maybe, we could give you our key and that way when you miss us you can come here or maybe even…I mean if you’d want to…”

“You could move in with us.”, Steve finished for his friend with as much a shake in his voice as the other. “Of course, you don’t have to but we just wanted you to know the option was there and—”

Your lips cut him off as you jumped into his arms and kissed him almost desperately. After defending you, protecting you, missing you, and showing you how much they genuinely seem to care, you needed to show them how appreciative you were and how much you felt the same. 

Stumbling forward, you both fall onto Eddie’s bed, his mouth never leaving yours as he shuffles off his suit jacket and tries to unbutton his shirt before getting distracted trying to grind his lower half against your own. A mischievous chuckle emits from your lips as you take hold of his collar and rip his shirt open, your palm running up his warm, hairy chest as his moans vibrate through him. 

After throwing your halo headband to the side, he does the same with his and grips your back as he rolls you on top of him. Noticing you struggle to remove your wings; Eddie comes up behind you and assists, making you smile as you tilt towards him to taste his lips. His hand clings to the back of your neck as Steve’s own begin to roam along your sides to your tits over the fabric of your dress. 

Carefully the rockstar unhooks your garment and delicately lifts it over your head and the mogul immediately takes advantage of the opportunity, hastily sitting up to press his face in the valley of your breasts as he open mouth kisses your skin. 

“No underwear, sweetheart? Naughty girl.”, Eddie teases as you press Steve’s head closer to you, feeling his fingers travel up to unhook your bra. “Wait, Steven.”

The man pauses as you both watch his friend scurry to quickly grab your halo and place it back on your head, beaming down at you as he gently brushes some of your hair away from your face and kisses your cheek. 

“Our angel.”

After pushing Steve flat against the mattress, you fumble with his belt and unbuckle his pants as he helps you push them down his legs. A loud groan escapes his chest when you soft hand wraps around his cock and your tongue licks the precum off his tip. 

“Fuck. D-Don’t tease Daddy, baby.”

“Or what?”

A ringed hand lightly but firmly comes down on your behind making you squeak and pout. Unhooking your jaw, you took him into your mouth, flattening your tongue, always remembering what they told you. 

We like messy.

You whine around him when you’re spanked again but it turns into a moan when two fingers effortlessly slide into your folds. 

“Atta girl. I know how much you like the way my fingers move.”, Eddie coos in a husky tone that has you clenching around him. 

Steve’s hand rested on the back of your head as he guided your rhythm, grunting and groaning as you gagged around him. 

“There you go, honey. Fuck, that’s it. Taking me so well down that little throat of yours. Let-Let me take over.”

After giving him the ok, his grip tightens in your hair as he thrusts his hips and his friend matches his pace. You were overwhelmed with sensations as you choked around him and your stomach began to tighten at the impending orgasm building up inside you. 

Tugging on your hair, Steve leaned his forehead against yours as you panted, not needing to be told to keep stroking his cock with your hand. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Fuck, are you about to cum on Daddy’s fingers?” Your big, blown out eyes locked with his as you nodded and felt his dick twitch in your hand. “You’re so fucking perfect, Y/N. We’re gonna fuck you so hard and ruin you for anyone else. Do you want that?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Yes Daddy what?”

“Yes Daddy I want you both to ruin me. Oh my god.”, you whine loudly as the coil snaps and Steve’s lips crash to yours as he swallows down your moans. 

Rolling you over, he grabs your ankles and drags you till your lower half is hanging off the edge of the bed with you on your tummy. You squeak when his palm comes down hard on your behind before lifting one of your legs onto the mattress and guiding his thick cock into your core. 

In this position, you felt like he was stretching you in half as he slowly but firmly pumped his hips. 

“Daaaaddddy…”

Leaning over your back, his fingers gripped your jaw as his lips hovered over your ear. 

“You can take it, baby. I know you can. Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Steve fell against your shoulder and you both grunted when he delivered you a few hard thrusts practically punching the air from your lungs. “That’s a…a good girl.”

Standing to his full height, he picked up his pace as the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. You were so enthralled in the euphoria you didn’t even notice when a now naked Eddie was stroking his cock in front of you. 

You tried to lift your head but you struggled which Steve noticed, slowing down to drop your leg and take hold of both your wrists to help pull you back while giving him more leverage to pound into your cunt. 

“Jesus, princess. You look so drunk on his dick right now I don’t think you can handle mine.”

“Ah…no, please, Daddy. I-I-I can handle it.”

“Are you sure? It looks like you won’t have much control.”, he replies with slight mocking knowing already you don’t care. 

“I trust you both.”

Smirking, he scoots himself closer to you, threading his fingers in your hair and guiding your lips around his length. 

“Shit, sweetheart, you take us both so well. I think you were made for us.”

Occasionally tugging you back, Eddie allowed you to collect some air as you moaned. When he realized you were close to your climax, he cupped your jaw and stroked his cock with his hand as you licked and sucked on his balls. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna fuck you so fucking hard, you’ll be feeling me for weeks. Now that we showed that asshole who you belong to you can show him how your Daddies take care of you.”

Leaning your sweaty forehead against his upper thigh, he continued to hold you as you panted against his skin before a loud scream ripped through you and you came. 

“God fucking damn it!”, Steve shouted as he folded over you and chased his high, slamming into you with rough abandon until you felt him coat your insides. 

Ringed fingers petted your hair out of your face as soft kisses landed on your temple. 

“Color, baby?”

“Green, Daddy. Thank you.”

“Color, Steven?!”, Eddie chuckles at the other man who falls back first onto the bed breathing heavily.

“Green…fuck…”

“Good.” Yanking you further up the bed, you giggle as he places you on your back, grinning down at you as he quickly grabs a pillow and puts it under your hips. 

Tilting down, he gives you a gentle peck on the lips.

“My turn.”

Balancing on his knees, you mewl as he slides his cock into your entrance and watch as his face scrunches in pleasure. Taking ahold of your legs, he lifts them over his shoulders on either side of his neck straight in the air making your eyes roll and shut. 

As his fingers dug into the meat of your waist, he clung to you as he kept his promise and pounded his length deep inside of you, hitting your sensitive spot repeatedly. 

“Atta girl. Fuck, this pussy is so good. You’re just…choking my dick…baby.”

“Please, Daddy.”

“What do you need? Tell Daddy, sweetheart.”

Taking a hold of his palm, you brought his digits to your mouth and an audible groan left his chest as your tongue wet the tips. 

“Touch me. Please.”

When his fingers began rubbing fast circles into your clit, you knew you wouldn’t last too much longer. 

“Jesus.” Rolling his waist, his hand reached out to grip your throat and you nodded, pleading with your eyes for him to get you there. Eddie’s grunts were like music and you moaned his title as your legs began to shake and you came. Dropping your limbs, he fell on top of you, aggressively thrusting his hips to elongate your high. 

“Fuck, Daddy. I need you to cum. Please…”

With your encouragement and a few more sloppy pumps, his release warmed your insides. 

The rockstar couldn’t help but groan happily when your fingers started running through his hair. 

“I like when you do that.”

“You make it sound like girls don’t play with your hair.”, you smile. Glancing towards Steve, your eyes widened when he shook his head. “No? Not even your fluffy head of hair?”

“Hm. Nope, honey. Just you.”

Eddie whines when his friend pokes his side, silently ushering him to get off you so they could get you clean. As you tried to get to your feet, you wobbled a bit and that was enough for the metalhead to lift you into his arms and carry you to his bathroom. 

“Told you he had a big bathtub.”, the mogul teased as the other man stuck out his tongue. “Shit. We don’t really have any…”

“Girly smells?”, Eddie tries to help by finishing his sentence making you laugh. 

“I don’t mind. I like smelling like you two.”

They both softly smile as they guide you in and take care of you, falling asleep as they began to dress you in some of Eddie’s clothes. 

###############

When you woke up, you were slightly thrown off guard, forgetting for a moment you had spent the night with them. Shuffling out of bed, you found both men out on their patio smoking a cigarette. As they spoke you couldn’t help but visually take them in. Eddie looked incredibly comfortable in his black sweats, wild hair, and bare chest, bearing his many tattoos for all to see should anyone be looking out their window. Steve had on his boxers and a Hawkins University shirt that was tight enough that you could see almost every muscle along his upper body.

They both seemed so calm as they spoke to each other and that made you happy. With the lives they had they deserved peace and you were glad you could give that to them in some way. 

“Ah ha. So the business tycoon Steven Harrington DOES smoke.”, you jest as you exit their apartment onto the balcony.

“Told you.”, Eddie chuckles as he makes room for you to sit between his legs and lean against his chest in the lawn chair he was sitting in. When his arms circled around you, you immediately felt safe. 

“Y/N, we, um, we wanted to talk to you about something.” Steve’s tone made you nervous as your body visibly stiffened. “No, hey, no. It’s not bad or anything.”, he soothed as he took a seat in the chair across from you both. “We just…it’s a big step and—”

“Steve wants to know if you would like to come to an event with us next weekend.” The mogul sighed as his friend shrugged. “You were taking too long.”

“In what capacity?”, you ask.

“It, uh, wouldn’t be like as a girlfriend but, um, we don’t want you to think we don’t see you that way. It’s just…a taboo I guess that…”

“Don’t you make deals for a living?”

“Jesus! Then you tell her, Edward.”, Steve growls. 

“You think of me like a girlfriend?”

Both men exchange a glance before the man in front of you tilts his head. 

“Yeah, I mean, if you want to be.”

“After Gina we said we wanted to take things slow with the next girl we were intimate with but Y/N we trust you. We wouldn’t have brought you here if we didn’t.”

“Of course, because of the circumstance there are some stipulations—”

“Stipulations?”

“Yes, for example, when Gina would go out with us she and we would tell people that we were just friends.”

“Which would mean the paparazzi are going to make assumptions a lot about us and another girl we even talk to. Other women will continue to flirt and try to touch us…” Eddie cringed as he spoke and you could tell they both hated what they were telling you.

“And you would let them?”

“No. Hey fuck no. Y/N, that’s not how we are. We would tell them or anyone to fuck off but we just want you to be prepared.”

“What about me? If I’m showing up and presented as a friend…men will hit on me and touch me in front of you.”

Steve’s jaw tightened as he glared off into the New York skyline. 

“You’re right, sweetheart. They will. But we just watched you tell us to fuck off when you didn’t know it was us sitting beside you. And you know any unwanted touches… we can break their fucking hands.”

“That’s not the only attention I would get either right? If people know we’re friends, they’ll pry and ask me questions about you guys. Try to get scandalous details. I may even lose some people I imagine.”

Your head hangs as you sigh before Eddie sits up and shifts you around so he can see your face. 

“I’m sorry we have to keep bringing her up, Y/N, but Gina shattered, fucking SHATTERED our trust in most people. Everything you mentioned, she did and then some. She took advantage of the opportunities and made them work for her. We’ve spent almost 4 some odd months getting to know you and we trust you way more than we ever did her and we knew her for years.”

“You don’t have to do this, honey, if you aren’t comfortable. We can wait a few months and talk about this later down the line. That’s not going to change how we feel about you. You’re ours and we’re yours.”, Steve added, lifting your chin with his fingers. “Tell us what you’re thinking, baby girl.”

“What’s the event?”

“A charity thing downtown.”

“I’m a little scared. I don’t know how to be at something like that.”

Eddie smiles as he kisses your temple. 

“Neither do I, sweetheart. That’s Steve’s territory.”

“Please, that’s my parent’s thing. If anything, I’m good at faking it.”, the mogul grins as he caresses your cheek. “So…do you want to come with us?”

##############

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[spaceclefairy]

Keep that Coffee Hot

You, a bounty agent. The Ghoul, a bounty hunter. The Ghoul needs to cash in on his most recent job and ends up with more than the contract promised.

When the Ghoul walks through the front door of your office, you know he's here for one of two things: a contract or a cashout. This no-name wasteland town is little more than a hub for the bounty agencies, so you get rough characters milling in and out of town all the time, but no one can clear a street quite like this Ghoul. You always know when he's back in town - the few people milling about scatter, and even the other bounty hunters coming through make themselves scarce. Even in the middle of a wasteland, he somehow makes the place even more desolate with his just presence alone. 

You don't mind the Ghoul, personally. Dealing with him is part of your job, after all - you're a bounty agent, he's a bounty hunter. You manage the contracts, he hunts the target, you give the payout when he's done. Easy-peasy. He's intimidating, sure, and dangerous, but he's always been all business with you, and he’s damn good for business. 

And if he’s a little flirty sometimes, well, you don’t mind.

This time when the Ghoul struts through your door, he’s dusty from the wasteland outside and carrying a grimy, drippy leather bag in hand. The leather bag squelches faintly as whatever's inside shifts around, dripping brownish liquid on the scrubbed wooden floor. He greets you in his usual way, with a howdy and a sugary darlin’, and plonks the bag down on your desk, goo oozing out from the seams. 

“Howdy, Coop,” you greet, eying the bag with glee. As you drag it over to you, it leaves a snail-trail of ick on the wood, staining it further. You peer into the bag and confirm it's the correct bounty in your contract.

“One mutant heart, as requested,” the Ghoul says. He watches you with a faint amused smile. “Never brought the bounty straight to the agent before.”

You dump the faintly-pulsing mutant heart out on the desk. It’s overly large - much larger than a normal human’s - and gray-brown, and it spurts little gushes of blood when you poke it, so you know it’s still fresh. You’re surprised it’s still working, but that’s why you paid for the Ghoul: he gets things done quickly. 

“That's because I'm the client this time.”

“Aw, you asked for me?” the Ghoul teases, only a little derisively, grinning at you. “That’s sweet.”

You roll your eyes. “I didn't ask for you - I gave the contract straight to you.”

“Straight to little ol’ me, huh?” he grins, resting his elbows on top of your desk.

Anyone else would have been shot for getting this close to you and your contract book, but you’ve always had a little bit of a soft spot for this Ghoul. It might be the flirting swaying your judgment. It might be that he’s actually fairly polite when he comes in - for a bounty hunter anyway. Regardless, you can’t deny you let him get away with more than you let the others who come in for payout.

“That’s what I said, Cooper,” you say as you duck down under your desk to retrieve a sack of caps from the safe and a case stocked with chems and rad-away. “You’re expensive, but you’re worth it. And I needed that done quickly.”

The Ghoul gestures down at the faintly thumping heart. “What’d you want with that guy anyway?”

“Ex-boyfriend.”

“Explains why you wanted his heart in a bag,” the Ghoul comments. He sounds vaguely impressed. “Your ex-boyfriend was a mutant with two heads.”

“Four heads if you count the two below the belt,” you reply. You hand the Ghoul the bag of caps first and the case full of chems second. “Here's your payout and a bonus for quick work.”

The Ghoul opens the case slightly and snaps it shut, apparently pleased by the way his non-existent eyebrows raise. He shoves the bag of caps and case into his shoulder bag and slings it back over his shoulder. “Much appreciated. You got anything else for me to do?”

“Plenty. Let me check the contract log.”

You reach for your book to check, but he stops you by dragging the book over to him. Truly, anyone else would have been shot. Not him. He flips open a page and runs a gloved finger down the crease in the spine, pretending to read whatever’s on the page.

The Ghoul glances up at you. “Are you in the contract log?”

You meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. “Are you telling me you want to do me, Cooper?”

“Sure am, darlin’.”

You lean back in your chair, eyeing the Ghoul where he stands. You’ve always liked his eyes. It’s the only part of him left that looks like there’s still humanity to him.

The Ghoul steps back. “But, if a ghoul’s not really your thing…”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Then what do you say?”

You pause, pretending to think, but you don’t really have to think about it. “Sure, why not?”

“You got a backroom or somethin’ or we just movin’ your book out of the way?”

You nod towards the door behind you, not that you’d be opposed to just fucking him here in the middle of your office. “Yeah, I got a backroom.”

Said backroom constitutes little more than a spare desk and chair with a window, but that’s really all you’ll need. There are no curtains for the window, so whoever walks by is going to get an eyeful of what’s going on if they peek in at the wrong time. You don’t particularly care, and the Ghoul surely doesn’t.

The hat and duster stay put as the Ghoul backs you up against the desk. He’s only a bit taller than you, but his presence takes up the remainder of the tiny, boiling hot room. The hollow, pitted flesh of his face appears raw and red, but his eyes are pretty and alert. His lips are dry and smooth against yours, raw like the rest of his skin. You don’t mind - there’s no room to be picky out in this wasteland town. 

You’re not sure how he’s not miserable in the heat of the tiny room, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. In any case, you drag him closer by his belt, fisting your hand in his duster.

The Ghoul kisses you again, then strips off one of his leather gloves with his teeth and tosses it on the desk behind you. “Guess a ghoul is a step up from a mutant, at least?”

You yank his belt open and shimmy his pants down over his hips - he doesn’t let you get them down any farther. “I like ghouls.”

“Well, then, you’re a fuckin’ weirdo, ain’t ya?”

You slide down the side of the desk and hit your knees, your back pressed against the creaking wood. “Works out well for you, doesn’t it, Coop?”

His still-gloved hand wraps around the back of your neck, the leather sticking to your skin in the heat. “Sure does, darlin’.”

You take his exposed cock in hand and lick him root to tip, grinning at the hiss he gives you. His hand tightens around the back of your neck, catching in your hair. He looms over you, his unoccupied hand planted on the desk, blacking out the sides of your vision with his duster. You slide your hand down around the base of his cock and inch your lips down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks out, and he groans, low and slow, hips twitching like he's fighting the urge to just bury himself in your throat. You look up at him, wrapping your tongue around the tip of his cock, and his eyes are dark deep in the hollows of his eye sockets. 

He doesn't tolerate your teasing long. No, he tangles his hand in your hair and presses himself deep down your throat until your nose is flush with his skin. You gag around him, and he grins, pulling out and thrusting back in so you'll gag on him again.

“That's it,” the Ghoul says, teetering right on the edge of breathlessness, “you take it so well.”

You punctuate his words by scraping your teeth down his shaft, which he seems to like by the way he slams himself down your throat. Your eyes water, and you can feel the tears rolling down your face as surely as you can feel sweat snaking through your hair.

“Look so good on your knees for me,” he says, threading his fingers through your hair. He catches your chin with his ungloved hand, tilting your face up with his cock still in your mouth. His thumb swipes through the tears staining your face. “Pretty as a picture.”

The backroom is only getting hotter the longer you're stuck on your knees, clothed and trapped underneath the Ghoul’s duster with him. You're sure you're soaking through your clothes by now. Your hand snakes down to undo your top and pants so you can get some relief from the heat. It doesn’t help much, but it’s enough to keep your head from swimming.

The Ghoul takes that as an indication you’re itching to take your clothes off (you are). He hauls you to your feet, picks you up, and deposits you on top of the desk, looming over you with a grin. You let him strip the rest of your shirt off and help him get your pants off of one leg. You squeeze his hips between your thighs and hook your foot around his back, pulling him flush against you. 

“Take off the duster, Coop,” you say, moving to tug it down his shoulder. “It’s too hot in here for that.”

He takes the hand clutching his duster and pins it down to the desk. “I think you just want me to get naked.”

You smirk. “That, too.”

He strips off the other glove with his teeth and grips your hip. “Maybe next time, doll.”

“Aw, you wanna fuck me again - oh, fuck-”

The Ghoul doesn’t let you finish teasing him, instead thrusting into you with a rough stroke. The words get caught in your mouth, and he loves that. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Dick,” you say, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him into a breathless kiss. “Just come here.”

The Ghoul yanks you closer by the hip and wastes no time rutting into you. He can’t decide where to put his hands and runs them up your hips, your sides, grabs at your tits, before finally settling one hand around the back of your neck (seems to be his favorite place to grab you) and the other hand down in your lap so he can press his thumb to your clit. You clench around him, and that just makes him thrust into you harder, rubbing tight circles into your clit.

You’re not gonna last long - not like this. It’s hot, and he feels so good, thick and heavy in your cunt, and the way he groans in your ear and licks at your neck makes you whine.

You can tell the Ghoul is getting close to from the way his hips start to stutter, pressing deeper into you, pace quickening. He yanks your head back by your hair and latches onto your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin.

He presses his lips to your ear, “Where do you want it, doll?”

“Inside,” you reply, tightening your legs around him. “Less cleanup. And I’ve got extra radaway.”

The Ghoul takes that to heart, pounding into you until you cum with a sharp whine. It doesn’t take him long to finish after you, spilling himself deep inside you. He pulls out, cock soaked and softening slowly, but he’s not done with you. He stuffs his fingers into your cunt to keep you full, pumping in and out, and keeps pressing down on your clit with his thumb. It’s teetering violently on the edge of too much, overstimulating you, but you cum again anyway, this time harder and louder from the aftershocks ripping through you.

You drop bonelessly to the desk when he pulls his fingers out, and you watch him idly through your comedown as he licks his own fingers clean.

After a beat, you clamber up onto your elbows. “You still want another contract?”

The Ghoul adjusts himself and zips up his pants, chuckling lowly. “I just fucked you stupid and you’re talking about work.”

You grab your shirt and pull it down over your head, climb down off the desk, and set to work pulling up your pants. “Gets boring around here - gotta keep you coming back somehow.”

He snorts. “Oh, babydoll, you’ll be begging to get rid of me if you keep that up.”

“Try me.”

“I could use another contract,” he says. The slow grin that spread across his face would give anyone else chills. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your little book out there.”

#cooper howard #fallout prime #fotv #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #fallout the ghoul

[hd-junglebook]

Little Dove

Part 3

a:n This is just full-on fluff and also my first attempt at something a little heated which probably sucks. If anyone wants to write smut for me pls lmk your girl is struggling. Also warning this is not proofread AT ALL.

Masterlist Link

Summary: To forgive you have to be strong, but all y/n needed was love before her last piece of resolve crumbled for the man she found herself so in love with.

Word Count - 4782

The house was enveloped in an unsettling stillness, a heavy silence that seemed to permeate every room. The only sound that pierced the quiet was the steady drumming of water from the bathroom, where steam billowed out from behind the shower curtain like a ghostly veil.

Inside the shower, Y/N stood motionless, her eyes closed as the scalding water cascaded over her skin, enveloping her in its comforting warmth. The heat of the water mixed with the salt of her tears, creating dark rivulets of melted makeup that swirled down the drain in a hypnotic dance.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/N didn't hear the soft creak of the bathroom door opening, nor the rustle of clothing being discarded on the tiled floor. It wasn't until the sudden yank of the shower curtain that she was jolted from her reverie, her eyes flying open in alarm as she instinctively reached for a towel to cover herself.

But instead of an intruder, she found herself staring into the intense, stormy eyes of Quinn. He stood before her, his chest heaving with barely contained emotion, his hair already damp from the steam that filled the room.

Without a word, he stepped into the shower behind her, the heat of his skin pressing against her back as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/N tensed for a moment, her heart racing at the unexpected intimacy of his touch.

But as Quinn's fingers splayed across her stomach, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on her skin, she felt herself melting into his embrace.

A deep, shuddering sigh escaped Quinn's lips, the warmth of his breath tickling the sensitive skin of Y/N's neck. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I should've told you how I felt. I waited too long, and now things between us aren't okay."

She shook her head, droplets of water flying from her hair as she turned to face him within the circle of his arms.

"I was happy having you here like this," she whispered, her voice trembling as she met his gaze. "But I won't keep waiting for you to be ready to love me."

Quinn's eyes softened, a flicker of pain crossing his features at the hurt he heard in her voice. He raised a hand to her face, his fingers gently brushing away the strands of wet hair that clung to her cheeks.

"You don't have to wait anymore," he said earnestly, his voice low and filled with conviction. "I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his words. She searched his face for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but found only a raw, unguarded vulnerability that made her own eyes sting with fresh tears.

Quinn leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers as the water continued to beat down on them, steam rising in lazy tendrils around their bodies.

"I don’t want to be with anyone else, Y/N," he whispered, his lips brushing against hers with each word. "I'm sorry it took me so long to say it but I just want to be with you. I’m ready to make things work with us."

…

In the soft, ethereal light of dawn, Y/N stirred from her slumber, the gentle rustling of sheets accompanying her movements as she turned over in the bed. The comforter, a whisper of silk and down, slipped from her arms like a lover's caress as she sat up.

Beside her, Quinn's sleeping form lay still, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breath. At the sudden shift in weight, he groaned, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to emanate from deep within his chest.

His eyelids fluttered, fighting against the pull of consciousness, before finally blinking open to reveal eyes still hazy with the remnants of sleep.

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, his features softened by the golden glow that filtered through the curtains. In that moment, she knew with a certainty that burned bright and fierce within her chest that there was nothing she wouldn't do for him.

If Quinn asked her to move mountains, she would find a way to reshape the very earth beneath their feet.

As if sensing her thoughts, Quinn's lips curled into a slow, lazy smile. A quiet laugh escaped him, the sound rough and honey-sweet in the stillness of the morning. "Stop staring at me," he mumbled, his voice thick with the remnants of sleep.

With a tender touch, he reached out to brush away the strands of hair that had fallen across Y/N's face, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her cheek. The simple gesture held a world of meaning, a silent promise of the love and devotion that flowed between them like a river, deep and endless.

Y/N leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the warmth of his skin against hers. In that moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist, the only reality the cocoon of their bed and the love that enveloped them like a second skin.

She thought of all the moments that had led them to this point, the trials and heartaches they had endured to find each other. But as she looked into Quinn's eyes, she saw a future stretching out before them, a path illuminated by the light of their love.

With a contented sigh, Y/N lay back down, her head coming to rest on Quinn's chest. She listened to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the sound a soothing lullaby that seemed to whisper a secret language only they could understand.

Quinn's arms encircled her, holding her close as if he never wanted to let her go.

The morning light continued to dance across their skin, painting them in shades of gold and amber. Quinn's eyes sparkled with a sudden idea. "Hey," he said, his voice still slightly raspy from sleep, "why don't we do something fun today? Just the two of us."

Y/N propped herself up on her elbow, her curiosity piqued. "What did you have in mind?"

Quinn's brow furrowed in thought for a moment before his face lit up with excitement. "I know! We could go horseback riding. Or maybe I could teach you how to ice skate. There's nothing more romantic than gliding across the ice together, hand in hand."

Y/N's heart swelled at the thought, a giddy excitement bubbling up inside her. "I love both of those ideas," she said, a wide grin spreading across her face.

"Let's do it." they both climbed out of bed, Quinn headed to the bathroom to freshen up, Y/N padded into the kitchen, her bare feet cool against the tile floor.

She filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove, the soft click of the burner a comforting sound in the quiet of the morning. As she waited for the water to boil, she busied herself with preparing Quinn's favorite tea, measuring out the loose leaves with care and arranging his mug just the way he liked it.

Lost in her task, Y/N didn't hear Quinn enter the kitchen until she felt his arms wrap around her waist from behind. She leaned back into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping her lips as he pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

"You're too good to me," he murmured, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder as he watched her work.

Y/N turned in his arms, her hands sliding up his chest to loop around his neck. "You deserve nothing less," she said softly, her eyes shining with love and adoration.

As they stood there, swaying gently in the middle of the kitchen, Quinn's expression grew thoughtful. "You know," he said, his voice taking on a wistful tone, "growing up, it was always just me and my younger brothers, Jack and Luke. We were inseparable."

Y/N's heart warmed at the fondness in his voice, the love he clearly held for his siblings. "Tell me about them," she urged gently, her fingers playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

Quinn's eyes took on a faraway look as he lost himself in memories. "Jack was always the mischievous one, always getting us into trouble with his crazy schemes. And Luke, he was the sensitive one, the peacemaker who always knew just what to say to make everything better."

Y/N listened intently, captivated by the snippets of Quinn's past, the pieces of himself he was entrusting to her. She could picture them in her mind's eye, three young boys with the same sparkling eyes and infectious grins, their laughter echoing through the halls of their childhood home.

But as Quinn continued to speak, his voice grew tinged with sadness. "I miss them," he admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I hardly get to see them anymore, except for a few weeks in the summer when we all manage to get together."

Y/N's heart ached for him, for the longing she heard in his voice. She cupped his face in her hands, gently tilting his chin up until his eyes met hers. "Hey," she said softly, her thumb brushing across his cheekbone, "why don't we plan a trip to visit them?”

Quinn's eyes widened in surprise, a hopeful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Really? You'd want to do that?"

Y/N nodded, her own smile bright and earnest. "Of course I would. They're a part of you, Quinn, and I want to know every part of you."

With a sudden, desperate need to show her the depth of his feelings, Quinn surged forward, his hands cupping Y/N's face with a tenderness that belied the urgency of his movements.

His lips found hers, the contact electric and all-consuming, a kiss that seemed to hold within it all the words he had never been able to say.

Y/N melted into his embrace, her own hands coming up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as if she couldn't bear even the slightest distance between them. Their lips moved together in a dance of passion and devotion, each brush of skin against skin a silent promise of forever.

Quinn poured every ounce of his love into the kiss, his touch reverent and worshipful as he memorized the feel of her in his arms. He tried to convey with his actions what he couldn't find the words to express, the sheer magnitude of his feelings for her, the way she had become the very air he breathed.

Y/N responded in kind, her own love for him evident in the way she clung to him, her body molding perfectly to his as if they had been crafted from the same star-strewn clay.

She kissed him back with a fervor that stole the breath from his lungs, her lips parting in silent invitation as she welcomed him into the very heart of her.

Quinn lost himself in the taste of her, the scent of her skin, the soft sighs that escaped her lips as he trailed kisses along the column of her throat.

It was a kiss that spoke of forever, of two souls finally finding their way home to each other after a lifetime of searching.

When they finally broke apart, their chests heaving and their eyes glazed with the heady rush of desire, Quinn rested his forehead against Y/N's, his breath mingling with hers in the scant space between their lips.

The kettle began to whistle, the shrill sound breaking through the tender moment. Y/N turned back to the stove, pouring the boiling water over the tea leaves, and watching as the liquid bloomed with rich, earthy colors.

She handed Quinn his mug, the steam curling invitingly from its surface, and together they settled at the kitchen island.

…

The ice rink was a glittering expanse of white, the soft scrape of blades against the frozen surface mingling with the laughter and chatter of the other skaters.

Y/N clung to the side of the rink, her knuckles white as she gripped the railing, her legs wobbling unsteadily beneath her.

Quinn glided up beside her, his movements graceful and effortless, a stark contrast to Y/N's unsteady shuffling. He bit back a grin at the look of intense concentration on her face, the way her brow furrowed and her tongue poked out slightly as she focused on keeping her balance.

"Okay, now move your left foot towards me," he instructed, his voice gentle and encouraging.

Y/N shot him a skeptical look, her eyes narrowing as she caught the hint of amusement in his tone. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Hockey Star," she grumbled, her words laced with a playful sarcasm. "We can't all be born with blades attached to our feet."

Quinn let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and rich in the crisp air of the rink. "Stop laughing at me, it isn't funny," Y/N whined, her bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Quinn said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I promise I'm not laughing at you. I just find your determination incredibly adorable."

Y/N's cheeks flushed pink at his words, a pleased smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite her best efforts to maintain her pretend annoyance. "Flattery will get you nowhere, mister," she said, wagging a finger at him.

Quinn grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, come on, you've got to admit this is fun. And just think, by the end of the day, you'll be skating circles around me."

Y/N snorted, the sound decidedly unladylike. "Yeah, right. The only circles I'll be making are the ones my butt leaves on the ice when I inevitably fall."

Quinn laughed outright at that, the force of his amusement causing him to wobble slightly on his skates. Y/N's eyes widened in alarm, her hand shooting out to grab his arm, steadying him even as she struggled to keep her own balance.

"Whoa there, hotshot," she said, her voice teasing. "Looks like I'm not the only one who needs a lesson or two."

Quinn's eyes softened, his gaze locked on the point where her hand rested on his arm. "Maybe you're right," he said, his voice low and filled with a sudden intensity.

"Maybe we should forget about the skating and find something else to do. Something that involves a little less clothing and a lot more body heat."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat at the implication behind his words. She swallowed hard, her gaze darting to his lips before meeting his eyes once more. "I thought you'd never ask," she murmured, her voice husky with desire.

But just as Quinn leaned in, his intentions clear, Y/N's foot slipped on the ice, sending her sprawling backwards with a yelp of surprise. Quinn's arms shot out, catching her just before she hit the ground, his laughter ringing out across the rink as he pulled her close.

"Looks like we'll have to save that particular lesson for later," he said, his breath warm against her ear. "For now, let's focus on getting you comfortable on the ice."

Y/N groaned, her head falling forward to rest on his chest. "Fine," she said, her voice muffled by his jacket. "But you owe me a hot chocolate after this. And maybe a foot rub."

Quinn grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Anything for you, my love. Anything for you."

…

Y/N and Quinn glided around the rink, their hands intertwined and their laughter echoing off the ice, Y/N couldn't help but notice the attention Quinn was attracting from the other skaters. A group of girls, all long legs and perfect hair, kept skating by them, their eyes locked on Quinn's handsome face and athletic frame.

One of the girls, a blonde with a dazzling smile, broke away from the group and skated up beside them, her movements graceful and assured. "Hey there," she said, her voice low and flirtatious. "I couldn't help but notice your technique. You're really good on the ice."

Quinn smiled politely, but Y/N could see the discomfort in his eyes. "Thanks," he said, his voice neutral. "I play hockey, so I spend a lot of time on skates."

The girl's eyes widened, her interest clearly piqued. "Hockey, huh? That's so cool. I love a man who knows how to handle a stick."

Y/N's jaw clenched, her grip on Quinn's hand tightening involuntarily. She knew the girl was just flirting, but the blatant innuendo made her skin crawl.

Quinn, sensing Y/N's discomfort, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Thanks, but I'm actually here with my girlfriend," he said, his voice firm but polite. "If you'll excuse us, we'd like to get back to our skate."

The girl's smile faltered, her gaze darting to Y/N as if noticing her for the first time. "Oh, of course," she said, her voice slightly strained. "Sorry to interrupt."

With that, she skated away, rejoining her group of friends who were still watching Quinn with undisguised interest. Y/N sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as they continued their circuit around the rink.

"I'm sorry about that," Quinn said, his voice low and apologetic. "Those girls are just puck bunnies. They're always hanging around the rink, trying to get the attention of the players."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Puck bunnies? Is that what you call them?"

Quinn chuckled, the sound warm and rich in the cool air of the rink. "Yeah, it's a hockey term. They're like groupies, but for hockey players instead of musicians."

Y/N shook her head, a rueful laugh escaping her lips. "Well, I guess I can't blame them. You are pretty irresistible, after all."

Quinn grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, is that so? And here I thought you were just with me for my skating lessons."

Y/N laughed outright at that, the sound bright and joyful in the crisp air. "Well, that's definitely a perk," she teased, bumping her hip against his. "But I guess your rugged good looks and charming personality don't hurt either."

Quinn's gaze softened, his hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. "I'm the lucky one," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I get to be with the most beautiful, amazing woman in the world."

Y/N's heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his gaze making her feel like the most cherished person in the world. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, the taste of him warm and familiar on her tongue.

…

Y/N pushed open the front door of her apartment, the warmth of the interior a welcome respite from the chill of the ice rink. She stepped inside, her cheeks flushed from the cold and the exertion of their skating adventure. Quinn followed close behind, his presence a solid, comforting warmth at her back.

As Quinn shut the door behind them, Y/N couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation run through her body. The air between them seemed to crackle with electricity, the tension that had been building all day finally reaching a boiling point.

She walked towards the bedroom, her steps slow and deliberate, acutely aware of Quinn's presence behind her. She could feel his gaze on her, the weight of his desire a tangible thing in the stillness of the apartment.

Just as she reached the threshold of the bedroom, Y/N turned to look at Quinn over her shoulder, a coy smile playing at the corners of her mouth. But the words died on her lips as she caught sight of his expression, the raw hunger in his eyes stealing the breath from her lungs.

In two quick strides, Quinn closed the distance between them, his hands coming up to cup her face as he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss. Y/N melted into his embrace, her own hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as she opened to him, welcoming the slide of his tongue against her own.

Her fingers danced below his stomach, softly caressing the skin before tugging his waistband forward. Her hand sneaks into his boxers finding his hard length, hot and dripping. She squeezed the base leaving Quinn to do nothing but groan. 

Y/N gasped as Quinn's mouth found the sensitive spot just below her ear, his teeth grazing the delicate skin and sending shivers of pleasure racing down her spine.

She arched into him, her fingers pulling harder, holding him close to her body as he trailed a path of open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat.

When her hand came up to tangle in the curls of his hair, something snapped in him. Strong hands gripped her hips, tight enough to bruise the skin even through the fabric of her jeans.

They tumbled onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, the softness of the mattress a welcome contrast to the hardness of Quinn's body above her. Y/N's hands found the waistband of his jeans, her fingers fumbling with the button in her haste to feel his skin against her own.

Quinn groaned, his hips rocking against hers, the friction delicious and maddening all at once. "God, Y/N," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "You have no idea how you drive me crazy."

Y/N smiled, a wicked gleam in her eye as she leaned up to capture his lips once more. "Then show me," she whispered.

And with a growl of need, Quinn pulled her smaller form below him, her knees on either side of his hips. Quinn left a trail of love bites down to the line of her pants where he struggled to get the tight jeans off her thighs.

The feeling of him moving against her and around her had her eyes fluttering closed. They moved together in a dance as old as time itself, their bodies perfectly in sync, their hearts beating as one. Quinn exhaled, leaning back to tug down his briefs.

Her core throbs when he wraps his long fingers around himself, the sigh of relief he lets out as he touches himself makes her squirm from her position under him.

Adjusting his weight, he rested lightly on her and heavily on the elbows that were now on either side of her head. He tucked his head into her neck as they he lined himself up, using one hand to push himself inside of her.

y/n gasps at the intrusion, the feeling of her nails digging into his back hard enough to draw blood.

In the afterglow, as they lay tangled together beneath the sheets, their skin slick with sweat and their chests heaving with the force of their release, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the love she felt for the man in her arms.

Quinn was everything she had ever wanted, everything she had ever needed, and she knew that she would spend the rest of her life loving him with every fiber of her being.

As if sensing her thoughts, Quinn pulled her closer, his arms tightening around her waist as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "I love you," he murmured, his voice soft and filled with wonder. "More than anything in this world."

Y/N smiled, her heart so full she thought it might burst. "I love you too," she whispered, her words a promise and a vow all at once. "Always and forever."

…

Y/N sat at her desk, staring at the email that had just arrived in her inbox. The subject line read "Job Offer - Senior Marketing Manager," and as she scanned the contents of the message, her heart began to race.

"What?" she whispered to herself. "They actually chose me?"

With trembling hands, Y/N clicked on the email, her eyes scanning the contents of the message. As she read through the details of the offer, her excitement grew, a smile spreading across her face. "holy fucking shit," she muttered, her mind already racing with the possibilities.

The prestigious marketing firm she had interviewed with weeks ago was offering her a position that perfectly aligned with her skills and a chance to leave her parents’ miserable company.

However, there was one significant caveat: the job was located in another city, far from her current life and the comfort of her family's business.

Y/N leaned back in her chair, her mind whirling with the implications of accepting the offer. She knew that taking this job would mean charting her own path, changing her relationship with Quinn.

She knew that he would be supportive and encouraging, but she couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness about how this change might impact their relationship. They had grown so close, and the idea of starting a new chapter in a different city without him by her side was daunting.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N resolved to discuss the offer with her parents before making any final decisions. She hoped that they would understand her desire for growth and independence, and that they would support her in this exciting new venture.

Y/N stood up from her desk and made her way to her father's office. She knocked on the door softly, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for his response.

"Come in," Derek's voice called out from behind the closed door.

Y/N entered the office, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as she approached her father's desk. Derek looked up from his work, his brow furrowed in concern as he took in his daughter's serious expression.

"Dad, I need to talk to you about something important," Y/N began, her voice steady despite the nervousness that fluttered in her stomach. "I've been offered a job at a marketing firm in another city, and I'm considering accepting it."

As Y/N shared the news of the job offer with her father, Derek's expression shifted from one of mild concern to intense disappointment and anger. His brows furrowed, and his jaw clenched tightly as he processed the information.

"You can't be serious, Y/N," Derek said, his voice low and filled with disapproval. "After everything we've done for you, after all the time and resources we've invested in your career, you're just going to throw it all away?"

Y/N flinched at her father's harsh tone, but she stood her ground. "Dad, this isn't about being ungrateful. This is about my future, my dreams. I have the opportunity to build a career that truly fulfills me, and I can't just ignore that."

Derek scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Fulfills you? What about your commitment to this family, to our business? We've been grooming you to take over, to carry on our legacy. And now you're telling me you want to abandon all of that for some job in another city?"

Y/N could feel her frustration growing, but she tried to remain calm. "I'm not abandoning anything, Dad. I'm trying to create my own path, to find my own success. Why can't you understand that?"

Derek's face reddened, his anger boiling over. "Understand? What I understand is that you're being selfish and disloyal. You're not ready for a change like this, Y/N. You don't have what it takes to make it on your own. Mark my words, you'll come crawling back when things don't work out, begging for your old job back."

Tears stung Y/N's eyes at her father's belittling words, but she refused to let them fall. She had worked too hard and come too far to let his negativity tear her down.

"You're wrong, Dad," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I am ready for this, and I will make it work. I'm sorry if you can't see that, but I won't let your doubts hold me back."

Derek's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward in his chair, his gaze intense and unyielding. "We'll see about that. In the meantime, I expect you to invite Quinn over for dinner on Sunday. And before you even think about arguing, know that this isn't a request. It's a demand."

Y/N's stomach churned at the thought of subjecting Quinn to her father's scrutiny and control, but she knew she had no choice. With a curt nod, she turned and left the office, her heart heavy with the weight of her father's disappointment and the challenges that lay ahead.

As she walked back to her own office, Y/N pulled out her phone and began to compose a text to Quinn.

…

Tag List <3

@jamieeboulos, @shawnshoney, @fearfam69691 , @njdkatie

@dancerbailey3,  @alwaysclassyeagle, @snailss

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