#and repeats the words before going to bed

[rafecameroninterlude]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝟐𝟒

pairing: dark!rafe x fem!pogue!reader

summary: ❝there’s only 24 hours in a day, and half of those you lay awake with thoughts of murder and carnage.❞ — when you accidentally witness rafe commit a murder, he’s willing to do everything he has to do in order to make sure there’s no loose ends. even if that means tracking you down and killing you himself.

warnings: predator/prey dynamic, murder, descriptions of violence and blood, time skips (just hours apart), choking (not the good kind), rafe quite literally tries to kill you, it kinda gives stockholm syndrome ngl

word count: 3.1k

a/n: series masterlist

hour one - 9:00 PM

“i can’t believe you talked me into taking this short cut to the boneyard, this is creepy as fuck.” you shivered, regretting your shoe choice as the gravel crunched underneath your sandals. “you’ll be here in no time, i swear! did you pass that abandoned house on the left already?” you froze, glancing back at the isolated dirt path. “girl- i haven’t seen anything since i turned this way like fifteen minutes back.” your friend gasped on the other end of the line. “where the hell are you then?!” lizzie yelled, attempting to shout over the music in the background.

“you tell me!” you cursed under your breath when you got a low battery notification. “look, my phone is about to die, i’ll try to call when i get closer.” you hung up, spotting a clear field to cut through. up in the distance you could see what looked like headlights. “thank god.” you sighed, making your way over in hopes of getting a ride out of here. as you got closer, you started rethinking your decision when two men came into your view, one pushing the other onto the ground. “what the fuck?” you whispered to yourself, your heart dropping as the man that was standing up pulled out a gun.

“please don’t do this! i’ll never steal from you again, man. i swear!” you were stuck, your feet not moving no matter how hard you tried. “you didn’t just steal from me, you stole from my family.” the cock of the gun was loud enough for your heart to beat wildly in your chest. “please, i’m begging you!” terror flooded through your system when the man on his knees glanced up, pointing a finger at you before the sound of a chamber being emptied pierced through the chilly night air. you jumped, covering your ears as they rung. the man fell with a thud, the realization of what you’ve just seen made your breath catch in your throat.

“hey!” the guy with the gun started running towards you, sending a shock of fear down your spine as you stumbled back. you whimpered when the palms of your hands landed on the bed of grass below you, the man’s footsteps only getting closer with each second you stayed on the ground. finally, when he was close enough for you to make out his face, you bolted in the opposite direction, a scream leaving your lips when he grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling you against his front as he breathed against your skin. “you shouldn’t have seen that.” he traced your arm with the cold metal of his gun. “please, i won’t tell anyone, i was just trying to get to a party when i saw your truck. i thought you could help me out.” you whimpered.

“thought i could help you out?” he repeated, turning you around in his grip, “you’ve seen my truck, and now you’ve seen my face. i don’t want to do this but your pretty little self was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.” tears welled in your eyes as he held the gun up to your head. “i won’t go to the cops, i promise!” you cried, hands wrapping around his wrist. “i’ll forget all of this even happened.” truth be told, he really didn’t want to kill you. the second you saw his eyes soften, you knee’d him in the groin, pushing him in the chest as you took the gun from his hand. “sorry, not sorry!” you shouted, running as fast as you can while he groaned in pain. “you stupid fucking bitch!” he yelled, punching the ground in frustration.

you put the gun on safety mode, throwing it in your purse as you ran and didn’t stop until you reached what looked like the beach. sure enough as you got closer, you could hear the cheer of nearby partygoers. you sighed in relief, making your way to the center where lizzie and jj were sitting down at. “oh my god, are you alright?!” your best friend wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a hug while jj examined you closely. “dude, you look like you just climbed out of the woods or something.” you rolled your eyes at his words. “thanks, jayj.” you sat down, contemplating if whether or not you should tell lizzie what happened.

“i texted you like fifteen minutes ago to check on you!” she hit your arm playfully. your phone. you quickly patted yourself down, subtly looking through your small purse for the device, only to realize that you might’ve dropped it during the whole ‘escape from the killer!’ fiasco. “oh, fuck.” you whispered to yourself, lizzie and jj already back in their own little love bubble. meanwhile just on the other side of the island, rafe was seated in his truck, still sore from you kicking him in his manhood. he didn’t dwell on it too much, everything he needed to physically get ahold of you currently sat in the palm of his hand.

not only did rafe have your phone, but when he took off your phone case just to see your state id wrapped in a twenty dollar bill, he also had your full name along with your address.

hour ten - 7:00 AM

you barely slept a wink last night. after you got home from the party, you showered with the bathroom door open, way too paranoid to go over five minutes without looking out the window. you glanced at your purse, still not being able to bring yourself to open it. the flash backs of the man’s lifeless body falling to the ground was enough to keep you up. now, with the morning sun flooding through your bedroom, you knew had to get up at some point and get yourself together. “fuck.” you rubbed your eyes, quickly brushing your teeth before making your way to the small kitchen. washing some dishes from the day before, you stared out the window as you got lost in your thoughts.

he doesn’t know my name, how could he even find me? what if he found my phone with my id in it? eh, he’s probably too busy burying a body to worry about me.

“ouch!” you hissed, looking down to see that you accidentally cut yourself with one of the kitchen knives. “snap out of it.” you sighed to yourself, sucking on your finger as you looked through one of the drawers for a band aid. just as you spotted one, your heart stopped when you heard the familiar crunch of gravel in the driveway. your worst nightmare coming true when you saw the same black truck from last night parked outside. “no, no, no, no, no,” you ran to the front door, where you were met with a loud bang. “open up, y/n.” you paced around nervously, having no phone to call anyone for help. “leave me alone! i didn’t go to the police last night, and i won’t go to them ever, okay? please leave.”

“i can’t do that. you have something of mine, and i want it back.” you shuddered at the sound of his voice. “if you give me my gun, you’ll get your phone back. easy trade off.” that explains why he knew your name and where you lived. “you have my phone?” you wiped your eyes, walking closer to the trailer door. “i sure do, babe.” you debated with yourself, your breath quickening with each second you stayed silent. “will you leave me alone after this?” you unlocked the small latch, your heart beating in your ears as you opened the door, revealing the, rather beautiful, psycho that tried to kill you yesterday. “i’ll leave you alone. promise.” his eyes danced over your body. you were just in a tank top and underwear.

“i’ll be right back.” you took a deep breath, grabbing the gun out of your purse before returning back to him. when you opened the door once more, he was no where to be seen. “you make this too easy for me.” he clamped a hand over your mouth as he dragged you out of the living room and into your bedroom where he shoved you into the wall. you had no idea where the gun was pointing to, but you still pulled the trigger in a last minute effort to defend yourself. both of you jumped back, a bullet hole now adorning a spot next to your bed frame. you held the gun up, your hand shaking as you aimed at his head. “where’s my phone?” all the fear in your body was now replaced by anger. he held his hands up in defense, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

“here,” he took the device out of his pocket, tossing it on your bed. “if i was going to rat you out i would’ve done it already,” you started, “this gun has my prints all over it, too. if i went to the cops with this i’d look just as guilty.” you watched as his face fell in realization. “i don’t even know your name.” you emptied the clip of the gun, the bullets falling to the floor with a clink. “rafe.” was all he said as you pushed the gun into his chest. “listen, rafe, i’m not a runner, i don’t run from anyone. you, however, killed somebody and i happened to witness it. that’s all. you got what you wanted now, so leave.” you grabbed your phone, walking past him to the kitchen.

“i believe you, but i can’t trust you. ‘not when i have too much to lose.” he followed you, unaware of the knife you had in your grip. “so make a move.” you turned around. rafe glanced at the knife in your hand, a smirk forming on his lips. “i’m into knifeplay, don’t threaten me with a good time.” he charged at you, knocking the weapon out of your grasp. before you could react, he wrapped a hand around your throat, lifting you up onto the counter as he started choking you out. your eyes widened while you frantically reached to the side for anything to hit him with. just as your vision started getting hazy, you felt the cast iron of your skillet on the stovetop, swinging it across his head. he fell instantly, his eyes fluttering shut as he his body slumped against the floor.

you rubbed the skin of your neck, tears running down your face as you fought to catch your breath. “oh, shit.” you whimpered, leaning down to check if he had a pulse. still alive, dammit. you leaned against the wall, trying to come up with something fast before he woke up. thirty minutes later, and you had him tied to a chair in the middle of your living room. “this will have to do.” you sighed, sticking a piece of tape over his mouth.

hour eighteen - 3:00 PM

“what the fuck?” rafe’s voice was raspy when he woke up, his eyes widening slightly as he spotted you staring at him from the couch. “what time it is?” he groaned, nearly knocking his chair over at how hard he was thrashing in it. “three o’ clock, which means you’ve been knocked out cold for eight hours.” you blinked. “eight hours?! what the fuck happened?” he looked around. you couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips. “what happened? you started choking me like a crazy person and i hit you with a skillet before you could actually kill me.” you moved closer, showing him the purple marks that now adorned your neck. apart of him hated that he did it, but it was too late to take it back now.

he licked his lips, cringing at the weird taste. “did i have tape on my mouth?” he grimaced. “yes, but you started breathing weird so i took it off.” you walked to the kitchen, rafe’s eyes glued to the way your jeans hugged your ass. “can you untie me?” he sighed when he heard you laugh. “not a chance,” you came back to the living room with a water bottle and a chair. “we’re gonna talk first before i let you go anywhere.” you took a seat in front of him, your knees knocking against his. you opened the water bottle, bringing it up to his lips. “i choked the shit out of you and you wanna give me water?” if he felt like crap before, he felt even worse now. “do you want it or not?” he nodded.

you hated how attractive you found him, the way he was gazing up at you right now made butterflies flutter in your tummy. once he hummed that he had enough, you leaned back in your seat. “before you shot that guy last night you said he stole something from your family. what was it?” rafe sighed, shaking his head. “why should i tell you?” he scoffed. “i’ll answer whatever questions you ask me in return.” you leaned forward, your cleavage making him uncomfortably hard in his cargo shorts. “any question?” you tilted your head. “yes, but answer mine first.” you ignored the smirk that lifted in the corner of his lips. “he stole gold,” rafe cleared his throat, “like a shit ton of it.” he swallowed.

“did you get it back?” you peered up at him through your eyelashes, completely oblivious to the tent in his shorts, or so he thought. “of course i did.” you shivered at the deep baritone of his voice. rafe knew both of you were treading dangerous territory as your looks started lingering a second longer, your fingers tracing his chin everytime he asked for more water. “what does one do with that much gold? when they’re already rich, i mean.” you licked your lips, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand. “get more richer.” he shrugged. “my turn.” rafe cleared his throat.

“you can’t go to the cops, and you can’t leave me tied here forever. what are you gonna do?” you sighed, spending the last eight hours asking yourself the same thing. “i don’t know, rafe. if i let you go, you might try to kill me again.” he watched you carefully, guilt settling in his gut. “i won’t do anything, i swear i’ll-” you cut him off, “you said that last time.” rafe’s eyes flickered down to your neck, his jaw clenching. “nah, you have my word.” even though he looked sincere, you knew better than to give in right away. “no.” you got up, grabbing your purse as you made your way to the front door. “woah, where are you going?” rafe started pulling at the restraints, shouting after you as you walked out your trailer.

hour twenty three - 8:00 PM

the last thing you expected to see when you got home was rafe lying on his side, staring at nothing as you rushed over to help him up. “what the hell?” you grunted, pulling the chair up. “i tried to get out of this.” he looked completely defeated as you pulled your hair out of your face. “yeah, i can see that,” you placed the bag of food you had on the kitchen table, returning with a pair of scissors. “y/n, it’s been well over a day since my last meal, just let me go i swear i’ll be out of your hair.” he swallowed dryly. kneeling down on the floor, you started cutting the ropes from the chair, mumbling a ‘don’t make me regret this.’

rafe stared wide eyed as you set him free, immediately backing away from him as he rolled his shoulders back. “your keys are on the small table by the front door.” you were practically trembling with fear when he loomed over you. with a gentle hand, he softly traced your face, his fingers trailing down your neck to touch the bruises there. “i’m sorry.” rafe whispered. not knowing how to respond, you simply blinked with a small nod. “i got you something to eat in the kitchen,” you motioned towards the white paper bag with a burger and fries in it. rafe looked at you as if he couldn’t believe you were real.

“you bought me food?” you relaxed when he stepped away, his hands on his head as he slowly paced back and forth. “yes..” your voice came out small. rafe was quiet for a minute before he looked at you with a look that sent shivers down your spine, except this time it wasn’t out of terror. “do you want to play a game, y/n?” he eyed your frame, loving the way your tits looked in that pretty tube top of yours. “i’m kind of tired of games, don’t you think we’ve played cat and mouse long enough?” you smiled softly when he laughed. “while you do have a point, this is a game that you win regardless.” rafe watched as you let your hair down from it’s claw clip, “why not?”

“i’m sure you’re familiar with hide and seek?” your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “of course i’m familiar, but why that one?” you questioned. “well here’s the thing; i’m gonna count to sixty and give you one minute to hide. if i don’t find you in two minutes, you’ll never have to worry about me showing up at your doorstep again, but if i do find you.. i fuck you.” you were immediately taken aback, your heart pounding in your ears as he got close to you once again. any normal person would immediately reject, not even giving it a second thought before declining, but a large part of you was thrilled at the idea of being hunted down. only when your life didn’t actually depend on it, of course.

you looked up at him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as a nervous habit. “okay.” rafe smiled devilishly. “run.” his eyes were dark when the word left his mouth. “w-what?” you stuttered, panic coursing through your veins. “i said fucking run.” he said through gritted teeth, your feet moving as he started counting down. you ran into the bedroom, cursing under your breath as you look around for a concealed hiding spot. you lived in a trailer for god’s sake, you had limited space. choosing your best bet, you squeezed into your closet, bringing your knees up to your chest as the words ‘ready or not, here i come!’ echoed in your ears.

you could hear shuffling in the bathroom and the kitchen, your eyes screwing shut as his foot steps got closer to your room. rafe was already a minute down. just as you thought he was going to walk away, the door to your closet swung open.

hour twenty four - 9:00 PM

“gotcha.”

#‧₊˚✩彡 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #drew starkey #rafe cameron blurb #outer banks netflix #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe concepts #rafe obx #rafe one shot #rafe fluff #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #outerbanks rafe #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #aesthetic

[ashhh-14]

A Serene Embrace

Husband!Aventurine x Reader

Synopsis : A soft homely evening with your husband Aventurine

Warning : domestic maybe?, very soft and fluffy, you cook him dinner, cuddling and the usual!

A/n : After what he went through, he deserves only the best. Happy reading!

"How was work?" You asked, smiling at your husband as you picked up the dishes from the table, placing them into the sink.

"It was fine." He said, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair as he sighed softly, continuing, "I had to set the plan for my next destination. It was a little tiring."

His chair screeched against the floor. You hummed, questioning as you started doing the dishes. " So is the layout set for it then?"

Two strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, surprising you. "No it's not done yet. It'll take a month or two it's a long one." He mumbled softly, burying his face into your neck. Peppering gentle kisses across it his hand tried holding your soapy ones to stop you from doing the dishes.

"Let me do them. You must be tired from your work too." You chuckled softly, pushing his hands away as you continued doing them.

"I'm not that tired. I took off early today from the gallery. I wanted to cook something good for you." Turning your head back you leaned a little, placing a soft kiss against his cheek.

He nodded in response, sleep evident in his action as he buried his face again, his both hands slipping inside your shirt, one just laying on your stomach while the other's thumb rubbed shapes across your belly comfortingly.

"Why don't you go and lay down? I'll join you as soon as you're done." You tried reasoning, but your husband stood on his decision.

Shaking his head, his arms tightened around your waist. "Been working too much lately. Want to spend time with my Treasure."

Both pity and warmth blossomed in your chest as you set to doing the dishes faster as he stood there, his head propped on your shoulder, watching your hands rub soap on each dish before washing it with water, making them squeaky clean as you piled them into the rack.

"Okay I'm done" You announced, drying your hands on a towel as you pried his arms away from you.

He gazed down at you as you placed the towel back in its place.

One hand came up to hold the side of your face as the other wrapped around you and pulled you closer.

You breath shuddered as you felt his thumb rub over your bottom lip, his eyes never leaving the subject of attention. No matter how long it is that you've been together, it still felt like day one with him.

He bent down slowly, tilting your head as his lips brushed against yours, his breathtaking eyes still not leaving yours before he fully pressed them, closing his eyes and pulling you closer.

You pulled away after a while, breathless as you looked from beneath the lashes to see his hooded gaze on you.

Placing both of your palms against his face, you ran your thumbs against the apples of his cheeks. "Let's get to bed."

..…..

"I'm sorry for coming home so late Treasure. I really don't mean to. It's just-" you hush him with a stern voice.

"Aven" squeezing your arms around him tighter, a warning, Daring him to continue.

He picked up both your legs, placing them across his lap as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you more into his side.

"Okay Okay I won't repeat that again I promise." He chuckled, placing a gentle kiss on top of your head.

You huffed a 'good', placing your head on his chest, listening to the way his heart thumped with a rhythmic beat.

You felt fingers in your hair, the tips rubbing against your scalp in back and forth in motion as you felt his chest vibrate with each word he spoke.

"Does it ever get annoying? Having to move houses every few months due to my work I mean?" His voice was soft asking this, almost vulnerable as you lifted your head, looking at him.

"No." You answered, smiling softly and you almost felt your husband's eyes rack over your face for any sign of lies.

You explained. "It's not annoying. I don't really mind switching houses or my jobs. Home is not a structure. Home is you. Wherever that is."

A look of mild surprise took over your husband's features before he pulled you back against him, placing his head on top of your head as he closed his eyes, trying to drink back the wetness that suddenly pooled his eyes.

Running a steady hand against your back, he released a sigh to steady himself as his mind flooded with past memories.

He pushed them back, regaining his consciousness back in this moment as he pulled away a little, letting you rest against him comfortably once again.

"I love you Treasure." Kissing your forehead he looked down, eyes going soft as they took in your peaceful features.

A gentle rumble left his chest as he whispered to no one in particular "So much for saying you're not tired."

He readjusted you in a more comfortable position, kissing the top of your head once again "I don't really think i deserve it but thank you for doing so much for me, Treasure."

Aventurine Masterlist

Masterlist

Written by yours truly

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[wheels-of-despair]

Heaven and Hell (Or: Eddie and Evil Woman Do… Prom?!) Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie and Evil Woman are *checks notes* going to prom? Like normies?! Contains: A high school prom, two nervous freaks, an ill-fitting wardrobe, an unfortunate zit, dancing, references to other E/EW fics nobody will remember, relentless teasing, a happy ending. Words: 4.5k

"Prom's next month."

You stop playing with Eddie's hair and look down at the head lying in your lap in surprise.

He keeps his eyes on the TV. A blush creeps into his cheeks. Is Eddie Munson seriously thinking about going to prom? You fight a smile and start working your fingers through his hair again.

"Yup… that's what they said on the morning announcements."

Silence. No way he's that interested in the orange juice commercial you've seen ten times today. Eddie Munson is thinking about prom, and he's in the process of chickening out.

"You ever been?" you ask.

"Nah," he says, eyes still on the TV. "You?"

"Nah."

He bites his lip. You can't take it anymore.

"You thinkin' about going?"

He shrugs.

If you were a more patient person, you could poke and prod at him until he finally asked you. However…

"Well, if you were planning on asking me, you're too late."

He finally looks up at you, confusion on his face.

"I've rekindled my romance with Chief Hopper."

A smile spreads across Eddie's face.

"I'm sorry, Eddie," you sigh. "What we had was fun, but you just don't have the stamina. Sometimes a girl just NEEDS full night of porking."

You both snort at the same time, which leads to a fit of giggles.

When you recover, you brush his bangs out of his face. He sighs.

"So, uh…" He licks his lips while he tries to find his words. "If the bacon falls through, would you maybe think about going with me?"

You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off. "Because it's kinda my last chance, and I know it's stupid, and it goes against everything I stand for, and it'll probably be miserable, and the music's gonna suck, and you probably have a way better idea of what we could do that night, but… ugh, never mind."

Eddie turns back toward the TV, shaking his head so some of his hair hides his burning face. You gently brush it back behind his ear, looking down at him with all the love in your heart.

"Eddie?"

"Hm."

"You're the only person I'd think about going to prom with."

"Really?" He looks up at you with an uneasy smile.

"Yeah," you answer, tracing the shell of his ear.

"We don't have to."

"I know," you smile. "I want to go with you." He smiles back sleepily. "But if I get Carrie'd, I can't promise I'll spare you."

"Kay," he chuckles.

"Mother?" you ask, hovering in the living room doorway.

"Daughter?" she responds from the couch, without looking up from her book.

You take a deep breath and stare at the floor.

"Ineedapromdress."

"What?"

You sigh and raise your head. "I need a prom dress."

Her book drops to her lap, revealing wide eyes behind her glasses.

"What did you just say to me?"

"I need a prom dress," you repeat with a roll of your eyes.

"Oh my god! I have a child who's voluntarily attending a school function!"

"What's up?" Gareth asks from behind you.

"They're going to the prom!"

You slowly turn and see him looking at you in amusement.

"Shut up," you order before he can even say anything.

"She's even gonna wear a dress!" your mother shrieks.

"Shut up," you repeat, glaring at Gareth's stupid smirky face. "Kay, I'm going to bed, open to shopping suggestions and financial contributions, good night."

You squeeze past him and make a mad dash for your room.

"They're all gonna laugh at you!" Gareth warbles in his best Piper Laurie impression.

"Shut up!" you repeat one last time, then slam your bedroom door.

"He's heeeere," Gareth announces as he passes by your bedroom door.

"You look perfect," your mom assures you.

She's been working on your makeup for fifteen minutes, and it's finally the way she wants it. And you have to admit… you look pretty damn good.

She'd taken you to the city for a day of shopping, and after several hours of hunting, you'd actually found a dress without puffed sleeves, ruffles, or tulle.

"Give me a minute, I want the camera on his face when he sees you," your mom says excitedly.

"Mother, it's a high school prom, it's not our wedding."

"Let me have this!" she whisper-yells. She grabs her camera and leaves the room.

You take one last look at yourself, stand, and slip on your shoes. Heels. You're even wearing fucking heels.

You walk down the hall and turn into the kitchen…

Eddie Munson is wearing a suit.

You'd offered to help him look for one, or find him something in the city, but he said he had it covered. And he did. He's even wearing a tie, and he's tamed his hair somehow. He looks freakishly presentable (for Eddie) and is holding what you imagine is a corsage in a box.

"Hi."

"Hey."

You stand there and stare at each other. Awkward. It's awkward.

"Eddie! Give her the corsage!" Your mom stage-whispers.

He tries to hold it out to you, but fumbles it and drops it on the floor. You both reach down to get it, and you hear a RIIIP tear through the kitchen. You both stand immediately, looking and feeling your outfits.

"Was that you or me?" you ask, trying to feel the back of your dress. You knew this fucker was too tight. But your question is answered when all the blood drains out of Eddie's panicked face.

"Let me see, honey," your mom says gently, putting a hand on his shoulder to turn him. The seam in the back of his jacket has ripped.

"Dude! You Hulked out on prom night," Gareth laughs from his seat at the kitchen table.

You give him a warning shush, and for once, he obeys.

"Slip that off, I'll have it as good as new in no time." Your mom helps Eddie out of his jacket and takes it in the direction of her sewing machine. You carefully retrieve the corsage from the floor and put it on the table.

"Uh… that's for you," he mumbles, the color returning to his face.

"Thank you," you smile, leaving the box closed until your mother can return and witness this sacred and not-at-all stupid prom ritual.

You turn to Eddie and lift a hand to run through his suspiciously tame hair.

"Don't look at it," Eddie mumbles.

"Don't look at what?" you ask.

"His third eye," Gareth supplies helpfully. That's when you notice the zit between his eyes. Eddie's face reddens so much that it almost blends in. Gareth snickers. You pick up a damp kitchen towel, ball it up, and throw it at him. It hits him in the ear.

"Don't you have some place to be?" you ask pointedly.

"Nope," he grins, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head. "Mom's taking me to Jeff's after you leave."

You roll your eyes, reach for Eddie's hand, and pull him to your bedroom.

"Sit," you instruct, pointing at your desk. He drops into the chair with a defeated sigh. You start digging through your extremely elegant shoebox full of makeup, then realize what you need. "I'll be right back," you whisper with a kiss to the top of his head.

You return with a cotton ball.

"What's that?"

"Wite-Out. My make-up's too dark for you," you joke.

Eddie's brow furrows, and you apply a dab of peroxide to his unfortunate growth. When it dries, you reach for the concealer.

"What are you doing?" he asks nervously.

"Covering that up."

He sits silently and watches you reach for this and that to cover his bump, and when you stand back and smile, he frowns.

"What's wrong?" you ask. "I can wipe it off if you want, I thought you wanted it gone."

"I feel like a clown," he grumbles.

"You are a clown."

He pouts. You point at the mirror, and he leans over to see his camouflage… and his jaw drops. You lean down until your head is next to his, so you can see what he sees.

"Witchcraft," he whispers.

"You know it, babe," you wink.

"One freshly tailored suit jacket for the young lad," your mom announces as she steps into the room. Eddie stands, and she helps him into it. She brushes her hand along the seam. "Good as new!" she declares. "But no break-dancing tonight." Eddie laughs.

After the official corsage and boutonniere exchange in the kitchen, you're marched into the living room for pictures. Each pose is goofier than the last, but you aren't allowed to leave until your mom finishes off a roll of film.

You both breathe a sigh of relief when the van doors slam shut.

"You still wanna do this, or do you wanna go get blazed and hide out at my place?" Eddie asks, probably about 40% joking.

"What time is it?" you ask. Eddie consults his watch and reads the time back to you. You pretend to consider it for a second, then shake your head. "Chief Hopper is expecting me in 15 minutes, and my little piggy does not like to be kept waiting."

Eddie snorts and starts the engine. Hawkins High Prom 1986 it is.

"Where'd you get your suit?" you ask a few minutes into the surprisingly awkward drive.

"George. The thrift shop guy. Told him I needed something prom-worthy. This was his grandson's. 'He's a lanky thing, just like you,' he said."

"It's nice," you admire.

"It's a little small, but… y'know." Eddie shrugs. "Price was right."

"Is it uncomfortable?"

"It's… a little tight," he admits.

"Baby, you don't have to wear stuff if it makes you uncomfortable."

"It's fine… as long as I don't have to move my arms much."

"Is it the shirt too, or just the jacket?"

"Mostly the jacket, the shirt's got some stretch to it."

"Ditch it."

"Ticket says jacket and tie required."

"Ditch it as soon as they let us in."

"This is why you're the brains of this operation," he mumbles as he pulls into a parking spot.

"Correct," you grin.

"Stay," Eddie orders, hopping down and scrambling around the front of the van to open your door. You're suddenly reminded of your first official date; he'd tried so hard to be someone else, but you didn't want someone else. You wanted Eddie Munson, and you wanted him just the way he was. You take his hand and slide to the ground, wincing as your heels hit the pavement.

"Is your battle armor in here?" you ask, nodding toward the back.

"Of course."

"Fetch."

Eddie smirks and walks toward the back, and you shut your door and follow him. He grabs his leather jacket and patch-filled vest, and hugs the pair to his chest.

You reach for them, and he hands them over. You separate the pair while he watches nervously, like you're separating conjoined twins that he personally gave birth to.

"Lose the child-sized suit jacket," you instruct. He tries, but gets stuck almost immediately. You muffle a laugh and step behind him to help him out of it, then slide his plain leather jacket on.

He looks more comfortable already. And considerably more Eddie-like. You go to transfer his boutonniere to his jacket pocket… but he doesn't have one. A bit of quick thinking and one rip later, his dumb little flower is attached with a strip of duct tape. You step back to admire him.

"There he is," you smile.

"Now he's gotta find his girl," Eddie says, "and then they can go do this damn prom thing."

You look down at your outfit and back at him, but he's already digging… through your overnight bag?

"Eddie, what--"

He cuts you off by slapping the soles of your favorite sneakers on the floor of his van.

"You've been wincing with every damn step since you walked into the kitchen. Lose the shoes."

You grin and sit down to swap your heels for sneakers. Sneakers that Eddie vandalized during a particularly boring assembly. It was one of the reasons why they were your favorites; the boy's a ballpoint artist. The other was--oh, that's nice. You stand comfortably and breathe a sigh of relief.

"You want a little liquid courage?" Eddie asks, shaking a bottle of liquor at you.

"Sure," you answer. You each take a swig in hopes of making your night a little more bearable. Eddie stashes the bottle in the van and slams the back doors shut.

"M'lady," he says, offering an arm. You take it, and walk toward the Hawkins High gym doors. Any time now, alcohol.

A cheerleader-in-training eyes you warily, but takes your tickets and lets you pass by her table into the gym… decked out in streamers and balloons. Wicked classy, Hawkins High.

"And you say I never take you anywhere nice," Eddie grins.

"I have literally, not once, ever said that."

Eddie laughs and takes your hand.

"Munson?!" a voice shrieks.

"Yeah?" he asks uneasily, turning to see Mrs. O'Donnell.

"What are you doing here?"

You look at each other, and back at her.

"Whatever people usually do at prom, I guess?"

"I'll have no shenanigans from you tonight, Munson."

"Wouldn't dream of it, O'Donnell."

"Don't even think about going near that punch bowl," she warns.

"Why, what's in the punch bowl?" he asks. You try to keep a straight face.

"Just punch, and that's the way it's going to stay. Isn't that right, Mr. Munson?"

"Yes, ma'am," he says innocently.

Mrs. O'Donnell looks you both up and down, sucks her teeth in disapproval, and walks away without another word.

"Like I'd waste good liquor on these ungrateful assholes," he mumbles. "Do have an emergency flask in my pocket, by the way."

"Aww, and I thought you were just happy to see me."

"That's in the other pocket," he winks.

"C'mon," you laugh, pulling him to the other side of the gym. Once you're in a quiet spot, you scan the room for familiar faces. You knew you were pretty much on your own - all of the other Hellfire boys were having a movie marathon and sleepover at Jeff's - but you thought you'd look for potential allies anyway.

"There's Nancy Wheeler," you notice.

"And the Elder Byers," Eddie points out.

"I think we're on our own, babe."

"Just how I like it," he grins.

"You gonna dance with me, or just stand here lookin' pretty all night?" you ask.

Eddie responds by flipping his hair over his shoulder dramatically.

"C'mon," you smile, nodding toward the dance floor. He balks.

"This song sucks."

"Every song's gonna suck," you remind him.

"This one sucks more than average."

"Then how 'bout we visit the snack table and lay a curse on the punch while we wait for something that sucks slightly less?"

"This way, m'lady," he says nerdily, holding out his arm. You roll your eyes and take it anyway, working together to assemble a plate full of cheap snacks and two cups of unspiked punch. You retreat to the bleachers and pick at your bounty.

"So… this is a high school dance," he remarks.

"Yup… imagine, some people's entire high school careers revolve around this thing."

"I'd kinda rather be at home," he confesses.

"In our pajamas," you add.

"Watching shitty movies," he continues.

"Eating shittier pizza."

"Maybe fooling around a little?" He waggles his eyebrows and tilts his head toward the door.

"We went through a lot of trouble to get here, Edward. I went shopping. With my mother. You put on a suit. And a tie. And grew a stress zit."

"Shut up," he grumbles, hand instinctively touching the bump between his eyes. You lean in to kiss his cheek.

"Let's give it an hour. You've gotta dance with me at least once."

"Fine," he pouts. You feed him crackers, and he starts to relax a little.

When the opening chords of "Footloose" blare through the speakers, Eddie cringes. The people on the dance floor go wild.

"C'mon," you order, standing up and reaching for his hand.

"No."

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

"Eddie Munson, you get your spastic ass on this dance floor with your dumb-ass classmates right now."

He whines, and looks… nervous? You sit back down, face full of concern. He scans the crowd, and you look too. Eyes keep darting to you. Not outright staring. Just keeping an eye on you. Like your whereabouts are a matter of public safety. You've been so focused on Eddie, you haven't bothered to pay attention to everyone else.

"It's just…" he starts, and then stops.

"Eddie?" you ask quietly, turning your head back to him. "This is our prom, too." You slide a little closer to him and hold his hand. "And I'm glad I'm here with you."

Eddie leans his forehead against yours and squeezes your hand.

"You think they're upset that we had the nerve to show up?" you smirk.

"Probably ruined their whole night," he grins. "Dear Diary, the freaks crashed prom."

"And ate all the fucking snacks," you laugh.

A flash makes you both jump.

"Sorry," Jonathan Byers smiles apologetically from behind his camera. "You guys were being cute, and Nancy demanded a photo for the yearbook."

"It's cool, man," Eddie grins. "Can we get a copy of that?"

"Sure," Jonathan nods. "They hired a professional photographer for portraits, by the way. Over in the corner. It's included in the ticket price."

"Cool," Eddie says.

"Anddd Nancy's waving me back," Jonathan groans. "You guys have fun tonight. At least some of the freaks should."

You and Eddie both chuckle as Jonathan goes back to Nancy for his next assignment, hearts in his eyes completely undermining his complaints.

"Well…" Eddie puffs his cheeks and blows out a breath of air. He's experienced all that prom has to offer, and is clearly not impressed.

"One picture, one dance, and we're the fuck outta here," you propose.

"Deal," he agrees.

You walk, hand-in-hand, over to the photographer's corner and get in line behind three other couples. Well, two. Kimmy Little sees you standing in line behind her, and drags her date off in the other direction. You and Eddie share a knowing look, but say nothing.

When the time comes, the photographer instructs you to assume the traditional prom photo position, and you do. You let Eddie hold you around the waist and smile like a total fucking jackass for several seconds while you wait for the flash. You and Eddie stumble away with spotty vision and hands tightly clasped. He's your lifeline, and you're not letting him go.

When your vision returns, you look from the bleachers to the exit. Is it really worth walking all the way back over there to sit and be bored, when you could just leave and have this lame night be over with?

Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time" starts playing through the gym's shitty speakers, and you smile. You're a sucker for this one. Eddie looks at you with dread. He knows what's coming.

Silently, you slip backward into the crowd and pull him with you. He doesn't protest this time. He follows, eyes not leaving yours. The crowd must have parted for you. Perhaps there are advantages to loving the resident freak. You stand close and put his hands where they belong, and then yours. You stare into Eddie Munson's eyes and sway slowly to a song he tolerates, only for you.

You're glad you came. You're glad you're with him. You're glad this is the song you got to dance to. You're glad he made you swap your heels for sneakers.

But mostly, you're glad when the song is over, because you come together for a quick kiss and make a mad dash toward the exit.

"You son of a bitch," Eddie growls, trying to force his suit onto a hanger.

"Leave it, gremlin, I'll do it."

"Thank you," Eddie grins, throwing his suit on the bed and kissing your freshly scrubbed cheek. You'd washed off all your makeup and hair products together, had a little fun in the shower, put on pajamas, and smoked a joint to wind down. You were thrilled to look and feel like yourselves again. "I'm gonna go pop a pizza in the oven. Put something good on, I need to cleanse my poor ears of the top 40 garbage they were subjected to tonight."

"Yes, dear," you deadpan, hanging up your dress as he exits the room.

"Music!" he whines from the hallway.

"FINE!" you yell back. You pop in the first mix tape you find and turn up the volume. You force Eddie's suit on a hanger, put the formal-wear in the hall closet, and join him in the kitchen.

He's sitting on the counter, watching the clock and drinking directly out of a nearly empty two-liter pop bottle.

"You really know how to treat a girl," you smirk.

He burps in response.

You feel like you should roll your eyes or pretend to be annoyed, but you're so in love with this fucker, you find every dumb thing he does to be charming. You lean on the counter next to him, and he hands you the bottle. You take a swig, then pretend it's a microphone.

"I'm here with Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin, who has just been to his first and last school dance! Tell us, Eddie, how was the Hawkins High prom?" you ask, placing the open bottle by his mouth.

"Sucked dick, thanks for asking!"

"It did not suck dick!" you protest, slamming the bottle on the counter with a slosh.

"It sucked some pretty major dick," he argues.

"You got to spend time with the woman you love! In a formal setting! She wore a damn dress for you!"

"I like her better in pajamas."

"Only because I'm not wearing a bra," you scoff.

"Well… I mean, yeah," he says, hopping off the counter and taking your hands in his. "Don't get me wrong, the dress was great. Have deposited the cleavage situation in the spank bank, so thanks for that. But this is just… better. 'Cause this is us."

When you're right, you're right.

The opening chords of Black Sabbath's "Heaven and Hell" play through Eddie's bedroom speakers, and a wave of appreciation for where you are and who you're with washes over you.

"No bowtie-wearing jocks or frilly little bitches staring at us," you smile, sliding your hands to his shoulders and pulling him close.

"No restrictive clothing," he smirks, letting his eyes linger on your chest as he settles his hands on your waist.

"Eyes are up here, Munson," you remind him as you begin to sway subtly.

He looks up and grins. "Those are pretty okay, too, I guess."

You smack him in the chest, and he laughs.. and then his face falls.

"You tricked me," he accuses.

"How did I trick you?"

"This is our second dance!"

"Yes, but its to our music, so it's counteracting the pop-adjacent one at the actual dance."

"Ugh, fine," he pretends to cave with a roll of his eyes.

You keep dancing until the song starts to pick up, and Eddie looks at you with his eyes full of mischief. He starts moving just a little faster from side to side, swaying with the music as it builds. Before you know it, those spastic moves you tried to coax out of him at prom were coming out in his kitchen. You would have been perfectly satisfied to just watch him dance like a dweeb, but he grabs both of your hands and forces you to join him. You do so happily.

You dance, you spin, and you laugh together in the Munson's kitchen to a mixtape of Eddie's own making. It's the most fun you've had in weeks. Why did you spend so long stressing over prom? Prom was nothing. Prom was a bunch of rich kids in tacky, overpriced clothes that you'd be laughing at in twenty years. This is real. This is what you should be living for.

When the song begins to wind down, you and Eddie are nearly out of breath from all the head-banging and jumping around. The slow dancing resumes without complaint.

"I think this is the Heaven part," you observe.

"Huh?"

"Heaven and Hell," you say, looking up into his beautiful red face. His bangs are stuck to his sweaty forehead. His zit has lessened in intensity after a post-shower application of peroxide. His eyes are big and round and curious. This boy is perfect, and he's all yours. "Prom was Hell. Other people are Hell. This, right here? Me and you? This is the Heaven part."

Eddie's eyes crinkle as he smiles. He pulls you in close and crushes you in a hug. You squeeze him back and breathe in the calming, familiar scent of him. You love this boy more than anything.

"I love you," you mumble into his shoulder.

"I love you too," he responds. "Even if you did make me go to prom."

"This was your idea, fool," you laugh, giving him a backwards shove.

"Not how I remember it," he grins. He laces his fingers and holds them under his chin, bats his eyelashes, and continues in a high-pitched voice that sounds nothing like you: "'Oh Eddie my love, please, won't you take me to prom? It would be the highlight of my life!' Pretty sure you begged. Groveled, even."

"You are insufferable," you laugh, pushing him away from you.

"You're the one who made me go to prom!"

"You know, Munson, according to the pamphlets that everyone's been throwing at me all week, most teenagers have sex on prom night. But I think you're gonna have to get your ass kicked instead. C'mere."

"No!" he yelps, backing into a corner. "Please! I have children!"

"We don't have to share our pizza with them, do we?" you laugh, too lazy to engage in a play-fight with him.

"Pfft. No." He relaxes. "I wouldn't even share with you if I didn't have to."

Your jaw drops.

"I'm kidding!" he insists, coming forward to envelop you in a hug. You go rigid and refuse to hug him back. "I'm kidding. You know I'd save my last Fudge Round for you."

"Oh, really?" you smile, looking up at him.

"Eh… Nutty Buddy, maybe?" He screws up his face in concentration. "Nah. Oatmeal Creme Pie?"

"You are unbelievable," you scoff with a shake of your head.

"You love me anyway."

"Yeah, I guess," you sigh in defeat. "But please don't tell Chief Hopper. It would break his heart."

"Oh my God," Eddie groans, pushing you away and rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

You cackle, and the oven timer dings.

This is definitely Heaven, but you've still gotta give him a little Hell.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x evil woman

[peachesofteal]

Ghoap x female reader / 18+

Everything was fine.

Your phone was quiet, but that didn’t mean anything. You would wait. You’ve waited before.

Sometimes it took a while for them to ring. They had a life together, a home, things to take care of. They had lives to rebuild every time they touched down, got home, got out of their work clothes. Pieces to patch, blood to wash clean.

You weren’t their girlfriend. They aren’t beholden to you, there’s no sacred vow tethering the three of you, no promises or pledges. You don’t know Johnny’s middle name, or Simon’s, anything about their families, their private lives. You barely knew about their jobs, only holding the scraps tossed to questions lobbed back and forth across pillows. They leave little marks across your mind, little spots of scars, knowledge scratched into your skin, sunk into your body, but never too much.

You weren’t a part of their life, really.

You were a part of the dark hours. The soft ones. You were in the orange rays of sunlight cresting over the city, and the emerald abyss of pitch black night. You were the flickering yellow street light, the grey blue smoke of Simon’s cigarette. The in between. Here in the moment, gone with morning.

For months, you had spent their time home pressed between them, folded beneath them, balanced above them. They made you sing. Made you scream, made you cry.

But most of all, they made sure-

you understood the status quo.

“Say it.” Simon cradled your jaw, thumb and finger full of steel, like he was oblivious to Johnny beneath you, his cock sliding in and out of your body, his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, your back to his chest, eyes wide and mouth agape, Simon did not flinch.

“I- I’m not-“ a gasp, a groan, words bitten off when Johnny strokes faster, curved deep against the spot that makes you see stars. Sweat builds across your skin, slicking down your spine, and Johnny chases it, tongue sweeping salt clean. You swallow to try again. “I’m not- not yours.”

“Not ours.” Simon’s fingers wrapped around the engorged length of his cock, stroking leisurely, eyes half lidded. “You’re not ours, sweet girl. But we’ll take care of you, when you’re here.”

So, you fell into it. Fell into them. Got comfortable waiting for the phone to ring, going weeks or months at a time- holding your breath. You got into a rhythm, syncopated behind the swell of their voices, their bodies, their souls. Along for the ride. A passenger.

It was fine. You weren’t looking for anything serious anyway. Maybe someone to hang out with here and there, grab a drink, have some fun. All of these things, they gave you. All of these things were provided. Granted, you only went out with them to a dive around the corner, a dark, bottomless place with tar licked floors and worn away wooden bar. The kind with dusty stained glass pendants swinging over pool tables that have seen better days, wrought iron back patio furniture that squeaked when Simon would pull you onto his lap and hook the hem of your panties to the side to stare at your pussy, hungry and desperate glint in his gaze under the silver glow of moonlight. He’d flip up your dress and stroke you with the back of his knuckles, just the down the seam, cooing, telling you how lovely you look, asking how much you missed them.

They never took you out for meals, or dates, or anything like that. They kept you in bed, buried beneath them, wrung out, drained dry. They took and took and took until you had nothing left to give. They’d feed you, make you come, fill you up and put you to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

And it was all… fine.

Even tonight was fine. Johnny had emailed, said they were back in service range and they’d be around soon, if you weren’t busy. Typically, a phone call came later. Late, in small hours, when half the city slept.

So when you fell asleep to nothing, you weren’t surprised. They’d catch up with you.

They always did.

You didn’t hear from them the next day. You forced it away easily, didn’t let the unease nag at you, pasted a smile on your face for your friends when you agreed to meet them for dinner.

No strings. You’re not their girlfriend, you’re not theirs. You’re cool. It’s cool. You’re fine.

Besides, your friend had gotten a reservation at a very nice restaurant in one of those shiny new hotels that just went up.

You shoved the boys from your mind.

You were the cool girl. You were unaffected.

You’re fine.

“So how’s work?”

“Oh, it’s fine. You know, same shit different day.” You roll your eyes, touch light on the thin stem of a wine glass. The red is a shade darker than your nails, and your lips, and it tastes like sweet cherries soaked in acid. Stringent. Sweet. You’re about to reciprocate the question when the bulk of a man catches your eye, handsome width of a shoulder you’d know from a mile away.

Interest in your friend’s conversation evaporates, and your tongue turns tarnished, sticking in the back of your throat like an overgrown thorn.

It’s Simon. Your heart pounds, and you drink in the sight greedily, elated to see him outside of their flat, or in the bar. Thrilled to get a glimpse of him in the real world, in a restaurant, a real, tangible place, in a real, tangible moment.

“I’ll… be right back.” You manage, slipping from the both to the wall, openly gaping across a room full of diners. As he moves, you mirror it, coming closer and closer to a hallway, a lead off down to the bathrooms.

“Simon.” His name slips from your lips without permission, a build up of excitement and anxiety, all twisted into one heap that darts out in front of your intentions, your resolve. Not cool.

You expect him to be surprised, certainly. You expect to see that small spark, the little fire burning behind his irises, expect him sweep the length of your body.

You don’t expect the surprise to be blanketed with the white fog of indifference. The grey slab of a stone wall.

It confuses you. Startles you. And when you take a step-

Johnny turns the corner, an arm slung around the waist of a pretty, thin, blonde.

His lips part, brows knitting together in slow motion. The girl, their date, it seems, is oblivious. She only bats her eyelashes at Simon and then gazes up at Johnny, sweet and hopeful.

You turn cold. Your fingers go frigid, ice cracking through your veins and attacking your heart, slowing your pulse.

The room spins.

And you’re alone in it. Dining room chatter falls away, drowned out by the thrumming between your ears.

You’re alone. Alone, staring at them, trying to piece it all together, trying to breathe, trying to be-

Cool.

“I uh…” You teeter, precarious in your shoes that now feel like a mistake, like your dress is a mistake, being here is a mistake, getting up from the table-

You’re not their girlfriend. You’re not theirs.

“I’m just gonna… go.” You begin to backpedal. Johnny says your name, says it quietly, and takes a step, lurching forward, an animated corpse seeking its last meal.

“Bonnie, ye-“

“I’ll see you around.” You blurt, stepping back out of reach. Johnny’s fist clenches, and he casts a dubious glance towards Simon, who’s tense and focused on you. “See ya.” You croak, and then spin on your heel, trembling all the way out the door and into the cold, crisp air.

Very uncool.

#Ghoap x reader #angst #lmao #john soap mactavish #peaches writes #simon riley #thinking about the cool girl monologue #phone writing #I know there are mistakes in here

[10yo-anon]

☆ DARK RED. ☆

Frat!Satoru Gojo x F!reader

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

⚠️: ooc!satoru (sorry), not proofread cuz @*the-parasites-control-me seemed busy and i don wanna bother😔, one use of y/n 💔, grammatical errors! I suck ass!!, angsty angsty

WC: 1,258.

A/N: just a 30 minute drabble(?)/fic(?) Cause I absolutely LOVE steve lacy's songs. And his music. So, why not make a fanfic heavily inspired to one of his classic songs I ADORE. Big shoutout to ahem, "dark red 1 hour" cause thats what ive been listening till i finished writing !!, Happy reading, teehee!

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

You lean into the mirror as you apply your pink lipstick on your smiling lips. How could you not smile after Satoru finally agreed on spending time to go to a small date with you?

You were always shocked satoru, godforbid one of the most known frat guy in the campus, gave you, a basic student smitten with him from the start, a chance to go out with him. on how you're actually in a relationship with him.

But a small, annoying, little devil on your left shoulder would always ask you, "are you sure you're in a relationship with him? Does he even see you in a relationship with him? Introduce you to others as his 'girlfriend' ?"

Sure..with his well-earned name as a frat guy along with being in their sorority was..uncomfortable to say the least, he promised his eyes were only looking at you! That he'd never go to any party without your knowledge!

"He already has broken those promises." The imaginary devil sighs out your name. "..Past is past.. no?" You reply silently.

Past.. is every month considered long enough to be called "past"? 'Past' where Satoru could barely drag himself in his (and your's) apartment in the middle of the night, reeking of alcohol and a strong scent of another woman's perfume, neck covered with lipstick marks, love bites, and hickeys, polo lazily and wrongly buttoned. Calling out your name. And when you would rush to him, eyes wide with concern. He would drop down to his knees, clinging to your waist and apologizing with crocodile tears, begging you to not leave him, "Satoru..I don't think I can handle this anymo—" "Please, Baby!..don't you give me up.. please don't give up..on us.!" pleading that he would chance his antics for you, "Then tell me. what are those marks on your neck?" "Its nothing! Believe me honey, I belong with you only..and only you, baby.." as long as you give him one more chance.

One. More. Chance. A broken record he keeps repeating. And you would fall for it. Every time. "Cant you see he's genuinely sorry? You're a monster if you leave him!" The angel in your right shoulder would always shout, its only sad you agree with it. You didnt have any choice but to drag him to bed, whispering sweet reassurance in his ear until he falls asleep, bound to forget the whole conversation, possibly the whole night when he wakes up. While you silently cry yourself to sleep. Heart breaking and aching, only his false words keeping it from disintegrating. "Only you, darling...only you.." "I know, 'Toru." You could only force yourself to stop crying and act like nothing was wrong, dread already in you as you simply wait and ready yourself the next time this will happen again.

But no, you can't possibly leave him, of course you couldnt! You love him! You shake your head and push your thought away, its the future you have to focus on, and the future is your said date, remember!

Your eyes dsrt to the small clock on your table. 6:00 PM. pulling away from the mirror, you admire yourself one last time before going to that expensive restaurant you had reserved using satoru's black card. A simple dress in your favorite color, slight makeup adorning your face. Its good enough for you.

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

It's been what? One— no, two hours since you sat on your reserved seat. Alone. Where was Satoru?

You've noticed the servers giving you looks, some even audibly whispering pity about you, so you take your phone out to ignore them.

Your senses, or that little devil on your shoulder, whispers to you: "somethings bad about to happen to you." Once more, you continue ignoring them. All the voices, the looks. Everything you can ignore. You text Satoru again, only for your texts to be seen. You don't know why, but you feel it coming.

As you shut your phone off, you feel it vibrate, once, twice, three times! It must be your boyfriend!

With a hopeful smile, you quickly open the hidden messages, only to find out it's Geto, satoru's best friend. Your smile slightly drops.

Another wave of dread washes over you as you read his messages.

G-S: *Video attachment.*

G-S: *Location attachment.*

G-S: im sorry, y/n.

Now, your oh-so hopeful smile completely drops. You were afraid to watch the video. But unfortunately, you did.

It was Satoru, sitting on the couch manspread. With one of the most popular girls in another sorority, face caked with make-up, a skimpy skirt and a tube top, on his lap, giggling while she plants hickeys on his neck, all while he plants his hands on her hips and encourages her more, even whispering on her ear to hump him. shamelessly. Laughing when they mention you and responding by rolling his eyes with a smug grin.

You dont realize you tears endlessly flowing, ruining your eyeliner and foundation horribly, not until a waitress runs up to you, genuinely asking if you were okay.

You turn your phone off as soon as you caught you consciousness. You look around, and to your surprise almost everyone was silently looking at you, some giggling, some judging, some concerned. With your head spinning, you hiccup out an apology before dashing out the restaurant, already calling for your best friend to pick you up.

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

Waking up from his drunk slumber, Satoru sits up, quickly noticing he was in a different room with a different girl. 3:36AM. "Ah..shit." He silently panics, remembering you were back at his apartment, possibly waiting for him. As he scrambles out the bed, the girl he doesn't even remember its name was clings onto him. "Mmh..Satoru!~.. W-where r' ya..g..goin..!" "Huh—..sorry..gotta go back to my own apartment.." he rushes to escape her grasp, swiftly slipping on his clothes and attempting to straighten it out. "Hmph! You're going back to your nobody girlfriend again, ar'nt ya.." she whines, pouting her lips out. "Just break up with her already..stay with me..atleast I can pleasure you.." visibly disgusted with her words, Satoru takes his phone before going out the door. "Baby..this is just a one night stand, dont forget."

He opens his phone,

5 messages from "my only one.♡".

His eyes wide with surprise as he opens the notification, only to be greeted with more than 5 messages. Shit. He must have left his phone open while he was.. he'd rather not think of that.

You're messages was from asking about the date to pleading for him to appear, in a span of two hours. He completely forgot about the date.

Before guilt comes to him, he shakes his head. He only had to put on tears and beg for forgiveness, and you would take him back again. It was alright. He was okay.

With a cheeky smile, he walks over to his motorcycle, his mind already planning out his words for forgiveness. Easy.

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

"Baby?..where are you.." He tries to make his voice as weak as he can as he "stumbles" in his and your's apartment. Calling out your name again, dissapointment meets him as there was no answer. Only your pitch black living room.

"Baby?..where are you.." He tries to make his voice as weak as he can as he "stumbles" in his and your's apartment. Calling out your name again, dissapointment meets him as there was no answer. Only your pitch black living room.

Thoughts run to his mind. From "did she finally leave you?" To "how dare she leave you, who does she think she is?" But his thought were answered as he checks the open closet. Barely any of your clothes were there, and the few remaining were either his shirts, or the clothes he gave you. All of it were scattered, as if you rushed to pack your things.

Oh.

★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★

A/N: 2/7 verses done! Can you find the hidden lyrics? :3 n e ways, Part 2? Let me know! But uh.. tommorow will be our school's honor rolls, and I'm 100% sure i won't have honors. For the first time. In my life. Aghh! I saw my brother once when he also didnt get honors in 3rd quarter last year in g7.. he was beaten, grounded, and he said bye to every gadget he had for a month. Soo..uh. I'll be offline for a while! :3 wish me luck !!

#Spotify #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #x reader #jjk #fanfiction #☆— 【 fanfiction !! 】 #☆— 【 ★ talks !! 】 #Gojo #satoru #gojo satoru #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you

[moooncats]

✿ PAC: What is holding you back? ✿ •○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○

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✿ Pile 1 ✿

✿ What is holding you back? ✿

This is going to be pretty specific here but I'm hearing dream theif. Have you been dreaming at all lately? Your mind could be blocked with a lot of unnecesary stress and random thoughts which makes you over think everything. You carry this baggage with you all day and during the night when it's time for rest, your brain can't reciprocrate what to relay back to you. This vicious cycle then repeats over and over again and you find yourself burnt out, drained, and powerless to your own restrictions. This is honestly reminding me of the video game touch detective. There is a whimsical character named Penelope who gets her dreams stolen by a pastry chef Antoinette. Basically, she crystalizes her sweet dreams and uses it in her pastries. "Dream Cake" a very tasty treat that brought her much fortune. Now that I'm thinking about it, it's a bit ironic that her dreams get stolen to be made into sweets. It reminds me of the saying that sugar before bed causes nightmares. 🍰🤔 💭

✿ How to regain your own power ✿

A dream journal is definitely needed for this pile. I feel that even if you don't have any dreams there is still messages desperately trying to come through to you. When you wake up, get in the habit of writing down the first thoughts that come into your mind. Over time, you'll see that this simple process will retrain your brain to create dreams for you. If you are suffering from the case of nightmares, I would recommend to still journal out what happens. There's hidden messages for you that once you reread it. I would also recommend aroma therapy. In touch detective there was a item you could use called "a sweet dream pillow". It was made with a soft pillow and perfume. Annointing your pillow with lavendar oil and putting an amethyst crystal inside the pillow case may help you when you drift off into the dream realm. (Gif is from another video game fran bow would also highly reccomend playing it or watching a walkthrough on youtube as well as touch detective ♡♡♡).

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✿ Pile 2 ✿

✿ What is holding you back? ✿

This could be a prominant feminine figure in your life. This may also be a Male who has a lot of feminine traits. I'm picking up on someone who is spiritual, intuitive, and somewhat wise. They are definitely older than you spiritually and physically. However, for some reason I'm seeing here that when you listen to them and try to follow their teachings, the timing when you try to put their words into action is a bit off. For example, If they told you a story about how they met their signifigant other and it was using candle magick, you may try that out on your crush and it might not work for you. This causes you to basically take 3 steps backwords instead of 3 steps foward. You feel confused and wonder why it worked for them and not for you. When that happens you're most likely confused and wondering why things may seem off. Thus the negative thoughts roll in; Maybe you don't have Magick within you? Maybe you aren't meant for this life? However honey, we all know you have what it takes within you.

✿ How to regain your own power ✿

Just as the previous sentence said you have everything within you to make your reality come true. This pile is innovators. We are in the age of Aquarius, use what resonates with your generation. It is 100% okay to come up with a ritual that fits to you. Technology is an amazing tool. We can get and transfer information so easily. For example subliminals on youtube are so powerful even though all you have to do is listen/watch them, it's so simple yet effective. On the other hand, using old techniques with the combination of new ones will yield great results in your practice. Learn to be confident in your own power and how your mind is. Utilize the tools that you have now that your ancestors had to take hours or days to even get simple answers. We are truly in the future lovelies. 🚀🌌👽

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✿ Pile 3 ✿

✿ What is holding you back? ✿

You are a bit unbalance as of now my dears. Is there an addiction that you're hiding? It could be as simple as vaping or drinking alcohol. You know when I got your cards I instantly thought of peer pressure. Is there someone in your life who is expecting you to do a lot which causes you to turn to your own vices to cope with all that extra unnesesary stress? If that is so it is very clear with your reading. It seems like you're trying to gain clarity on something and it is holding you back a lot. This pile is reminding me of Ariel from the little mermaid. She wanted to be a human so badly that she made a deal with Ursula just so she can marry a prince. She went to extreme lengths just to please another man. If this is resonating with you perhaps watch the little mermaid there may be hidden messages in the movie for you.

✿ How to Regain your own Power ✿

Everything is fine but remember- in moderation pile 3. I'm seeing here that you have to juggle things in your life so you can truly gain balance. Basically think of a waitress in a heavy traficked restaurant. So many items of food to serve but theres limited space on her tray. Whatever shall she do? Well, she would delegate each food and grab more trays for them. Then cautiosly take the food to her tables while also taking multiple trips. Organizing all your habits is the key here. You need to learn how to strive for balance and harmony. Like a skilled alchemist, blend opposing forces and find the middle path. Trust in your innate ability to bring together seemingly conflicting elements to create a harmonious whole. Remember to seek moderation and patience as you navigate lifes challenges.

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✿ Pile 4 ✿

✿ What is holding you back? ✿

Are you bored? Perhaps you have the same ole routine that you stick to in your little palace far away from other people. Do you truly feel happy being away from so many people? I'm seeing here that you are lost in a perpetual cycle of intense introspection. Learning is amazing pile 4, but what exactly are you doing with all this new information? This pile reminds me of the saying "knowledge is power". Like yes it is power, but it is that exact knowledge that's holding you back. Like a hermit you stay in your house all day learning. You most likely are into astrology, numerology, astra travel, personality tests, documentaries, etc. Why with the internet I don't blame you. We have the power to learn anything with the touch of a fingertip it can be quite addictive. Especially since it's not like the old days where you had to wait months just to hear from someone through letters. We can easily communicate through technology. But at what cost? Most times were mindlessly staring at a screen- do you truly feel as if you're living in the moment?

✿ How to regain your power ✿

You are in desperate need of a new change of scenery pile 4. I'm seeing here that your mind, body, and soul earns for more. You were put on this earth to help people my dear pile 4. You have so much knowlege and hidden truths in your intricate brain. All that's left to do is to share that knowledge with others. Traveling even to a new city for a day will do wonders for you. "There is only one way to learn... It's through action. Everything you need to learn, you have learned through your journey" -Paulo Coelho The Alchemist. I feel like this quote is perfect for you pile 4, because you're in a stage of stagnation. When we are stagnant nothing good or bad will happen, we're just still. Yes, it does teach us patience but I feel like now is definitely a time to take action as you are well equiped with everything you need to do great things. The world is your oyster.

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#baby witch #intuition #intuitive #tarot #tarotreading #pac #pick a card #free tarot #tarotblr #witchblr #moooncatstarot

[hd-junglebook]

Does He Know

Part 2

Word Count - 3023

The bedroom was eerily quiet, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the nightstand and the distant hum of traffic outside the window. The once-comforting space now felt cold and unfamiliar, as if the revelation of Vince's cheating had tainted every corner of their shared life.

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped and her head bowed, the revelation of Vince's betrayal pressing down on her like a physical force. The hotel receipt lay crumpled in her hand even days after the discovery, the damning evidence of his infidelity a tangible reminder of the shattered trust between them.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, the tracks of her tears still glistening on her cheeks. Her normally vibrant face was pale and drawn, the light in her eyes dimmed by the pain and confusion swirling in her heart. She stared blankly at the floor, the plush carpet blurring before her as fresh tears welled up, obscuring her vision.

Vince stood in the doorway, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders hunched in a posture of guilt and remorse. He watched Y/N, his heart aching at the sight of her so broken and lost. The urge to go to her, to wrap her in his arms and beg for forgiveness, was overwhelming, but he hesitated, unsure if his touch would be welcome.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, talk to me. It’s been a week and you haven’t said a word. I ended things with her, I want to put you first. We can work through this. You know I love you."

Y/N's head snapped up, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and anguish. "You love me?" she repeated, her voice raw and trembling. "How do we work through the fact that you betrayed me, that you broke our vows, that you..." her voice broke, a sob tearing from her throat. "How could you do this to me, to us? You told me you wanted to have a family and the next day you go and cheat."

Vince took a tentative step into the room, his hand outstretched in a gesture of supplication. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. "It was a mistake, a moment of weakness. I was feeling insecure and went out to find something to fix it. It didn't mean anything more than that, I swear."

Y/N shook her head, a mirthless laugh escaping her lips. "It meant something to me," she said, her voice barely audible. "It meant everything to me. Our marriage, our love, our future... it was all a lie."

Vince crossed the room in two quick strides, dropping to his knees before her, his hands reaching for hers. Y/N flinched at his touch, pulling away, the hotel receipt fluttering to the floor between them. The sight of it, lying there like a boundary, a divide, was too much for Vince to bear.

"Please," he begged, his voice thick with tears. "Don't give up on us. I know I hurt you, and I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, but please, don't let this be the end."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes searching his face, looking for some glimmer of the man she had loved, the man she had trusted with her heart. But all she saw was a stranger, a man capable of deceit and betrayal. The pain in her chest intensified, a physical ache that took her breath away.

"I don't know if you deserve that," she whispered, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible. "I don't know if I can ever trust you again. I don’t want to trust that."

Vince's shoulders slumped, the weight of her words hitting him like a physical blow. He bowed his head, tears dripping onto the carpet. Y/N watched him, her own heart breaking, torn between the love she still felt for him and the unbearable pain of his betrayal.

…

Y/N sat at her desk, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of her. The cursor blinked mockingly, the empty document a reflection of the emptiness she felt inside. Her eyes drifted to the small slip of paper tucked beneath a stack of files, the edges peeking out invitingly. Jack's number. She had taken it on a whim at their last family gathering, not really intending to use it, but now...

Before she could second-guess herself, Y/N reached for the paper, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed the number into her phone. She held her breath as it rang once, twice, three times.

"Hello?" Jack's voice was slightly breathless, as if he had been in the middle of something.

"Jack? It's Y/N. I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" Y/N bit her lip, suddenly unsure of herself.

"Y/N! No, no, it's fine. I just got out of practice, that's all. What's up?" Jack's tone was warm, friendly, and Y/N felt herself slightly relaxing.

"I was just wondering if you might want to grab a coffee later? I could use a friendly face and some good conversation." Y/N held her breath, waiting for his response.

"How could I possibly refuse coffee with such a beautiful woman?" Jack's voice was playful, teasing, and Y/N found herself laughing despite herself. She didn’t even remember the last time Vince called her beautiful or anything romantic at all for that matter.

"Great. How about that little place on Main Street, say around 4?" she asked.

"It's a date then. I'll see you there." With a click, the line went dead, and Y/N found herself smiling, a flutter of excitement in her stomach. The sound of the office door opening startled her, and she looked up to see Vince standing in the doorway, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Who were you talking to?" he asked, his tone slightly accusatory.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before answering. "A family friend, Jack. We're going to grab coffee later."

Vince's face darkened, his jaw clenching. "Really, Y/N? You're going to start hanging out with other guys now? I thought we were supposed to be working on our marriage, not complicating things further."

Y/N felt a spark of anger flare in her chest. "Oh, that's rich coming from you, Vince when I’m not even sure I wanna be with you. You're the one who complicated our marriage by sleeping with someone else for four months. I'm just trying to find a little bit of independence outside of you and support where I can."

Vince ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I know I hurt you. But you trying to get even with me is not allowed. I'm trying to be there for you. Running off with some other guy who just wants to sleep with you isn't going to solve anything."

Y/N stood up, her hands clenched at her sides. "I'm not running off with anyone, Vince. I'm having coffee with a friend. And frankly, I don't think you have any right to tell me who I can and can't spend time with, not after what you did. I will continue doing whatever the hell I want."

Vince opened his mouth to respond, but Y/N cut him off. "I can't do this with you right now, Vince. I need some space, far, far away from you. And I need to know that I have people in my life who I can count on, who I can trust. Right now, that's not you."

She grabbed her phone and pushed past him, ignoring the stricken look on his face. As she walked out of the office, she felt a sense of lightness, of freedom. She knew that her problems with Vince were far from over, that they had a long way to go if they were ever going to rebuild what they had lost.

…

They settled into the plush, worn leather armchairs, the rich burgundy color a warm contrast to the pale green walls of the cozy coffee shop. The late afternoon sun streamed through the large picture window, casting a golden glow over the polished wooden tabletops and the colorful artwork that adorned the walls.

Across from her, Jack leaned back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the back, his long legs stretched out beneath the table. He was dressed in a fitted navy blue henley that accentuated his broad shoulders and a pair of dark wash jeans that hugged his lean hips.

The gentle hum of conversation and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine created a soothing ambiance, a welcome respite from the chaos of her personal life. "So there I was, standing in the middle of the pet store, covered in dog food, and this little old lady comes up to me and says, 'Young man, I think you've got something on your shirt.'" Jack's voice was rich and warm, with a hint of mischief that made Y/N smile despite herself.

She laughed, the sound bright and genuine, and she felt some of the tension that had been coiled tight in her chest start to loosen. It felt good to laugh, to forget about her troubles for a moment and just enjoy the company of a friend.

Y/N cradled her mug of steaming hazelnut latte in both hands, the heat seeping into her skin and the rich, nutty aroma filling her nostrils. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent, before taking a small sip. The creamy, slightly sweet liquid coated her tongue, and she closed her eyes for a moment, letting the flavor and the warmth wash over her.

When she opened them again, she found Jack watching her, his gaze intense and focused. He had one elbow propped on the table, his chin resting on his hand, and he was leaning forward slightly, as if drawn to her.

"You know, Y/N," he said softly, his voice low and intimate, “He doesn’t know how lucky he is does he? To be married to someone so gorgeous and interesting as you.  He must always let you down, he probably doesn’t even buy you flowers or cook dinner. you're handling it with such grace and resilience."

Y/N felt a flush creep up her neck at his words, and she glanced down at her mug, suddenly shy. "that’s what happens when men aren’t in love with you anymore," she murmured, tracing the rim of the cup with her finger. "And I’m not handling it gracefully at all. Most days, I feel like I'm barely keeping it together."

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for," Jack said, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of her hand. "And you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here for you, whenever you need me."

Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. There was something in Jack's gaze, in his touch, that made her feel seen, understood in a way she hadn't experienced in a long time. It was both thrilling and terrifying, and she found herself leaning closer, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

"Thank you, Jack," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat. "That means more to me than you know." Jack smiled, a slow, warm curve of his lips that made Y/N's stomach flip.

They sat there for a moment, lost in each other's gaze, the rest of the world fading away until it was just the two of them, connected by a thread of understanding and attraction that seemed to grow stronger with every passing second.

Finally, Y/N pulled her hand away, breaking the spell. She cleared her throat, suddenly aware of the other patrons in the coffee shop, the clatter of dishes and the hum of conversation rushing back in. "We should probably find somewhere more quiet," she said, glancing at her watch. "It’s getting crowded in here."

As they left the coffee shop, Jack suggested a walk along the nearby beach. Y/N readily agreed, eager to feel the salty breeze on her face and the sand beneath her feet. They strolled along the shore, their shoulders brushing occasionally, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks a soothing rhythm.

Y/N found herself opening up to Jack in a way she hadn't with anyone else, not even Vince. She told him about the struggles in her marriage, the doubts and insecurities that had plagued her even before Vince's betrayal. Jack listened intently, his brow furrowed in concern, his hand occasionally reaching out to give hers a comforting squeeze.

The sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, they settled down on the sand, side by side, watching the stars slowly emerge in the darkening sky. Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over her, a feeling she hadn't experienced in longer than she could remember.

She glanced over at Jack, only to find him already staring at her, his gaze intense and filled with an emotion she couldn't quite name. Y/N's heart skipped a beat, a flutter of something dangerous and exciting stirring in her chest.

"You know," Jack said softly, his voice barely audible over the crash of the waves, "Vince is a fool for not realizing what he had in you. You deserve so much better, Y/N. You deserve someone who will cherish you, who will put you first, always."

Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. She knew she should pull away, should put some distance between them, but she found herself leaning closer, drawn in by the magnetism of Jack's presence.

"And who might that someone be?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jack's hand was warm and slightly rough against Y/N's cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine. His thumb traced the delicate curve of her cheekbone, the gesture intimate and possessive. Y/N's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she leaned into his touch. “I think you know," he murmured, his eyes darkening with desire.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew this was wrong, knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but in that moment, with the stars shining above them and Jack's touch setting her skin on fire, she couldn't find it in herself to care.

"Are you happy with him?" Jack asked, his voice low and husky. "I can do so much more for you than just make you happy."

Y/N shuddered at his words, a heat blooming in her core. She knew she should pull away, should put some distance between them, but she found herself drawn to Jack like a moth to a flame. His presence was intoxicating, his gaze hypnotic, and she felt herself falling under his spell.

"I..." Y/N's voice trailed off, her thoughts scattered and jumbled. She couldn't think straight, not with Jack's hand on her face and his body so close to hers. "I don't know anymore. Things with Vince are so complicated, so broken. I don't know if we can ever go back to the way things were."

Jack leaned in closer, his lips just inches from hers. "Then don't go back," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "Move forward. With me."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, a thrill of excitement and fear running through her. She knew that what Jack was offering was dangerous, that it could destroy what little was left of her marriage. But there was a part of her, a part that had been buried for so long, that yearned for the passion and excitement that Jack promised.

"Jack," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't. I'm still married. I made vows."

Jack's hand slid down to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "Vows that Vince already broke," he reminded her, his tone gentle but insistent. "You deserve to be happy, Y/N. You deserve to be with someone who will cherish you, who will put you first."

Y/N's resolve wavered, her body responding to Jack's touch even as her mind screamed at her to stop. She knew that what he was saying made sense, that Vince had shattered their vows the moment he had slept with another woman. But still, she hesitated, torn between her desire for Jack and her sense of loyalty to her husband.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so confused, so lost."

Jack's other hand came up to cup her face, tilting her chin up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "Let me guide you," he murmured, his gaze intense and filled with promise. "Let me show you what it's like to be truly loved, truly desired."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her pulse racing. She knew that she was standing on the edge of a precipice, that if she took this step, there would be no going back. But with Jack's hands on her skin and his words echoing in her ears, she found herself wanting to take that leap, to give in to the desire that had been building between them for weeks.

Slowly, tentatively, Y/N leaned in, her lips parting slightly. Jack met her halfway, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. Y/N melted into him, her hands coming up to tangle in his hair as she pressed her body against his.

For a moment, the world fell away, and there was nothing but the two of them, lost in each other's embrace. Y/N knew that there would be consequences, that she would have to face the fallout of her actions. But in that moment, with Jack's lips on hers and his hands roaming her body, she couldn't bring herself to care.

All that mattered was the fire that Jack had ignited within her, the passion and desire that had been missing from her life for so long.

…

#fluff #angst #new writers on tumblr #masterlist #new fic #x reader #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #timo meier #njd #new jersey devils #luke hughes #dawson mercer #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes masterlist #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x sister!reader #jh86

[padfootagain]

Only An Almost (VI)

Chapter 6: Hiding

Hello!! Here is a new chapter!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2387

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Andrew needed to talk to you.

After his conversation with Sam, there was no doubt left in his mind that he needed to tell you how he truly felt. This… situation, this… arrangement… it couldn’t go on. It was hurting him too much. Having you for a moment, and then being back to square one, holding himself back all the time, and this fool’s hope that you could feel the same if he waited…

He couldn’t keep on doing this. Another week and two nights with you had passed, and Andrew was now resolute. As he was knocking on your front door and then digging his hands in his pockets, he kept on repeating the words he had prepared beforehand. It was so much easier to write things down, he had sketched his speech this morning.

I know you don’t want a relationship at the moment, I understand that.

He knocked a second time as you weren’t opening the door.

But I’m not sure this… arrangement of ours is a good idea. I see you as more than just a friend. Way more than that. And I don’t think that I can keep on being casual with you.

At long last, the keys turned in the lock, and he stood a little straighter, taking a deep breath.

I get it that this is not the right time for you, and that’s alright. I’ll wait. I’ll wait all the time you need to have a proper date and a proper relationship with you. I’ll wait for you.

You opened the door.

I’ll wait for you, Y/N, if you want to give me a chance…

“Andy? Were we… had we something planned for today?”

“Hi! Erm… not exactly, but like… I haven’t seen you in a few days, I was getting worried you might have been eaten by some roaming spirit or the monster under your bed or something…”

He mentally slapped himself for such a weird and stupid joke.

You granted him an amused smile nonetheless, he was even ready to believe that you were struggling not to laugh.

“I’m alright, I’m just super busy with work.”

“You look tired.”

You looked exhausted, actually, with bags under your eyes, dishevelled hair…

“Thanks, I guess…”

He rolled his eyes.

“It’s not what I meant. You are always stunning. But you do look like you haven’t had a proper rest in a few days.”

“I have so many things to do…”

You heaved a sigh, and it was easy to see that you were buzzing with anxiety.

“Can I come in?” Andrew finally asked, but he was surprised when you hesitated.

“I have some work to do…”

“It’s Sunday afternoon, you’re not supposed to be working on Sunday.”

“Andy…”

“Do I really need to beg?”

He gave you a crooked smile, the ones he thought were almost cocky but behind which he badly hid that he was worried. You heaved a sigh and let him in.

“Tea?” you asked, although you were already grabbing the kettle by the time Andrew had rid himself of his coat.

“Thanks,” he smiled as he sat down by your table.

He waited until you were sitting with him before speaking again. He reckoned that you needed to be eased into the conversation he was aiming for, so he started with niceties.

“What has you so busy then?”

“Work. Important projects.”

“What kind?”

“Look, Andy… I appreciate the thought, but I don’t have time for this…”

“You can’t keep on working without taking a break… it’s Sunday.”

“Like you’re never working on Sundays.”

“I’m a musician, not an office employee. If I want to, I can decide not to work for an entire month, and no one is going to say a thing about it.”

“Touché…”

“Seriously, though… I’m just worried. Why don’t you take a small break with me, huh?”

“Andy, if you came to get laid, I’m not in the mood…”

“I didn’t…”

He frowned as he stared at you, offended by the thought. Your expression softened.

“Sorry. I’m a little on edge.”

“I haven’t heard from you in several days, I was just stopping by to check up on you.”

“I know… I’m sorry, that’s very nice of you, actually. I’m just so…”

“Stressed? Tired? On the verge of a nervous breakdown?”

“All of the above…”

Andrew drank a gulp of tea or two, before standing up in a jolt.

“Come on, go get changed.”

“What?”

“You need some fresh air. Some fresh air, and a nice walk. Come on. Get properly dressed, we’re leaving.”

“Andy…”

“You look like a zombie, you need a break.”

“I thought I was still stunning.”

“You are. Don’t ask me how you do it. Come on!”

You smiled, and seemed to hesitate one last time before getting up as well. You went to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and he bent to meet you halfway.

“Thank you, Andy. Where are we going?”

“I’ll find a nice spot, I promise.”

How could Andrew bring up this conversation?

He kept his words light and playful during the short drive to the spot he knew you would like. Some quiet path winding through the Wicklow hills, one that you knew already, but didn’t go there often. It was an easy, peaceful walk. Perfect to focus on nature, and get out of your head. It would do you good.

You were finally starting to relax, and Andrew didn’t dare to bring up the subject he so desperately needed to discuss. Partly because he didn’t want to stress you out again, partly because he was too afraid.

You joked around and spoke of unimportant but lovely things while you walked, his fingers brushing yours every once in a while, blaming the uneven terrain for the ghostly touch. But he didn’t reach out, didn’t hold onto you. He didn’t dare to.

You had brought some snacks with you, prepared while Andrew was pestering you to hurry. He decided that he would talk to you while you took a break to eat them. Yes, that sounded good…

“How often do you come here?” you asked him after a short silence.

“To this spot you mean? I don’t know… Haven’t come in a few weeks, that’s for sure.”

You giggled, and he slowed down to walk next to you again.

“You and your long legs. Wait for us mortals, would you?”

“Only if you’re nice to me.”

“I’ll give you a snack.”

“Hmm… that could work.”

“Or actually, never mind that. Go ahead and play the lure. So the beasts will attack you and spare me.”

“The beasts? What beasts? The squirrels? A bird?”

“There are badgers everywhere around here.”

“True, but I’m too skinny for their taste, I’m sure.”

“A bite-size ankle.”

“Nothing but bone, I’m afraid. Not enough sustenance. They’ll have to get to you, eventually.”

“Naughty.”

You walked further along the quiet path, laughing and joking and talking nonsense. And this was nice, unbelievably nice. There was just something about you that made Andrew’s shoulders lighter, his world brighter.

Love. It’s love.

You took a turn, came to particularly nice spot, breaking free from the trees of the forest trail. There was a clear view of the hills from there, and the valleys below.

“This is so nice. You were right, I was cooked up at home, and then at the office… I needed this. I needed some time outside, to clear my head.”

The Wicklow hills rolled before you, in various shades of green, the bluish grey of a stream running between them. You sat down together on an old stone wall, and you shared your snack with him: some slices of apple and a few biscuits.

“It’s so nice out here. We had not done that in a while, had we?” you went on, before taking a bite at the piece of apple in your hand.

The fruits were sweet and sticky with juice and sugar. The flesh had turned a little brown, oxidized by the air. Andrew hummed in agreement as he took another piece.

“Yeah, a few months, I’d say.”

“Longer than that. I don’t think we’ve done this since you’ve been back.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

He saw your gaze softening with sadness, something close to melancholy.

“How do you do it?”

Andrew frowned in response, silently asking what you meant. You looked at the landscape again as you answered.

“The touring. The constant travelling. Always being away from home. How do you do it?”

Andrew shrugged.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I get to do what I love, I can’t complain about it, I reckon. I’m so lucky people across the world love my music, that… total strangers on another continent can find something to relate to in my songs… It’s more than I’ve ever hoped for concerning my career. I’m very grateful for that.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He couldn’t refrain a small smile at that. You were always so stubborn, never letting him get away with things. He loved that about you, it was endearing.

He set his gaze on the landscape too, tracked some clouds drifting in the blue sky. The weather was so lovely this afternoon… he wondered when it would turn to rain.

“It’s tough,” he admitted. “On one hand I’m unbearably lucky. I love travelling, I’m going to places I would never have dreamt of visiting. I meet amazing people. I get to perform my songs, and people come to see me. And I would lie if I pretended that I don’t love touring. But it’s… it’s hard to be away for so long. You live out of a suitcase. You don’t have a proper bed, not to mention your own. You never sleep twice in the same place, you’re always busy, always torn in a thousand directions at once… you’re never on your own, there are constantly at least five people in the same room as you. Sleeping in a bus is hell. You’re… exhausted, all the time. Stressed because of all the things to do, stressed about the schedule, the interviews, the nerves before a show… And I miss home. I miss my parents, and my brother. I miss my friends. I miss my house, and my dog, and my bees, and just… this. I miss this place. And I miss you…”

He heaved a sigh, forcing himself to look at you again, feeling your stare upon him.

“But in the end, I love it. There’s nothing as rewarding as hearing someone else singing something I have written. There’s nothing as exhilarating as being on stage, and performing and… It feels like I was born to do that. It just feels so right. It’s the same when I write music. It just feels right.”

Slowly, you nodded, a gentle smile on your lips.

“I understand. But it sounds lonely.”

“I’m literally never on my own, that’s an issue, actually… to me it is, at least.”

“But you’re not with your family. Can you say that you’re with the people who matter most to you?”

“Some of them are.”

“What about most of us?”

He granted you a sad smile.

“Yeah… yeah, I miss all of you.”

You looked away again, and he was surprised to catch a glimpse at tears in your eyes.

“I don’t think I could do it. Not just travelling but… just… how can you be with someone if you’re never here?”

It was his turn to look away to hide rising tears. His throat tightened, his heart dropped, his chest was collapsing…

Was that why you didn’t want to be with him? Why you kept him at arm’s length?

“It can be difficult,” he nodded.

“Is that why you broke up with your ex?”

“There were a bunch of reasons. But it was one of them, yeah.”

“I… I don’t think I could handle it. Waiting for you to come back…”

“I understand.”

“Don’t get me wrong, when I proposed our… arrangement… it wasn’t because it was you. I… I genuinely don’t want to date anyone at the moment. My job is a lot. And I… I’m a little lost these days. What I’m trying to say is that… I feel lonely, sometimes. But I can’t be in a relationship right now. But if I proposed for us to remain friends, it wasn’t because I was rejecting you specifically. Do you see what I mean?”

“I think so… but I… I mean like… my career means that… if you were in a position that allowed you time and space for a relationship, you would still not choose me, right? That’s what it means.”

“I…”

But you grew quiet, and he wasn’t stupid. His vision was blurred with tears: a mix of several shades of green, a splash of blue and some grey and white. A cloud was passing.

He had come all the way here with you to talk, and he had his answer.

“You’re… you’re still okay with what we agreed on, right?”

What could he answer?

No… no, it hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced. But I can’t lose you for good. I’m not strong enough to survive it…

“Had I been anything else but a touring musician… would you have wanted to date me?” he asked, voice deeper than usual, unbearably fragile.

You didn’t say anything; he took your answer for a no.

He was being a fool…

“I can’t think like that, Andy.”

“Why not?”

“For the same reason you can’t stay for the entire night. That we can’t have pet names. That you can’t kiss me now.”

He blinked his tears away to look at you, frowning, silently encouraging you to keep going.

“I can’t let you break my heart, Andrew.”

His lips parted at your words, he tried to wrap his mind around their meaning, blinked a few times.

It was… It was him. He was the problem. Him, and his job. The same pattern it had always been, all over again, but with you this time around.

You cleared your throat, stood up in a hurry.

“Come on, let’s finish this hike!”

He looked at you as you started to walk away, but didn’t move a muscle.

You could have loved him, and he would still stand no chance at all…

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x fem!reader #hozier x y/n #hozier fanfiction #hozier series #series #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

[boyled-eggs]

ya'll mind some bucky x different culture!reader hc's?

bucky would be so interested in learning about your culture and your language.

if you have an accent because of your native language, bucky would notice that and point it out with something like, "omg, i LOVE your accent, where's it from?"

if you don't have an accent because of your native language, bucky would be pleasantly surprised to know that english isn't your native language, when he does.

but he would defo be super interested in knowing your language.

cue silly questions by curious bucky:

"so you can speak more than one language?! wow, i could never!"

"so like when you think, right, do you think in english or in your native language? what about in your dreams? what language do you dream in?"

sometimes, while talking to him, after ya'll get comfortable around each other, you might end up accidentally saying something in your native language, forgetting that bucky doesn't speak your language. you repeat your sentence in your native tongue at him as he looks at you confused but more than that, amused.

"baby? i dont speak [your language]"

you laugh along with bucky before repeating what you said to him earlier, this time in english.

when you both get to know each other long enough, a small percentage of the words you use to talk to him will be in your native language. repeated usage will get him accustomed to those words.

this accustomisation will come in handy when u forget the english version of said words.

"bucky?" "yep" "hand me the...uh...," you snap your fingers trying to remember the english word but instead use the word in your language. "oh yeah here you go," he hands you the thing, beaming proudly, "see i remember the word"

sometimes, if you are talking to someone on the phone in your native tongue, bucky will silently point out the words he understands. when you hang up, he'll come up to you and tell you what he could piece together about your convo with the words that you used.

and when he'd get him right and when u tell him that he did, he would smile like a little kid, it's honestly so cute to see.

he defo seems like a fast learner.

ok, best part of teaching someone your language (as someone whose native language is not english): swear words!

bucky would ask you how to say bad words in your language. you would explain the words to him and hear him repeat the words in his accent.

u would giggle so hard hearing him say such rude words. he'd probably say those words around u randomly just to make u laugh.

he may or may not butcher the pronounciation (depends on how different your language sounds from english; he would defo butcher mine lol)

but also: "baby, how do u say 'i love you' in [your language]?"

once he learns the golden phrase, it's over for you.

he'll be saying it to you ALL. THE. TIME. like all the time.

but it's honestly so adorable.

like you'll be cooking something in the kitchen and he'll come up behind you, hands on your hips, lips grazing against the shell of your ear,

"i love you," he'd say in your language.

or a sensual whisper while you two are cozily tucked in bed as he caresses ur face gently. butterflies in tummy ~ 🦋🦋

it would be extra cute coming for him because he would forget the pronounciation for most of the words and phrases that you would teach him but this one... oh no, this one he's remembering till the day he dies, his words not mine.

writing! omg writing!

if u know how to write in your native language, you would propose to teach him how to write his name.

but he'd insist he wants to learn how to write your name first.

squeeeeeeeeeee!!

then you'd teach him how to write his name. he'll do something cute like taking the pen and adding a little plus sign between your names and a cute lil' heart around it, grinning like an idiot.

because he's an idiot but he's "your idiot" 🥺🥺

he would play love songs in your language to show u how much he loves you.

prolly will even sing in your language, (which would mostly be him mumbling and then singing the parts that he knows well out loud with confidence, even though his pronounciation makes what he's singing barely understandable)

he would give you nicknames in ur language <33 (not me imagining him calling me the love of his life in my language 🤭🤭)

also, him with the rest of your culture (because there is more to your culture than just your language)

like the spark to learn more and more about ur culture would be ever present in him, as it comes with getting to know you better, which he very much intends to do.

but i think seeing you in your cultural clothing (if ur culture has clothing different from his american culture) would enkindle the flame.

like you'd be going through some of your old stuff that u had stored and kept away and decide to wear your cultural clothing, just out of whimsy <3

(also because u'd want to see bucky's reaction to seeing u in your cultural clothing) 🤭🤭

"hey bucky?" "yeah?" "how do i look?"

he'd turn around to see you in the dress, eyes wide like saucers, mouth open in surprise.

"nooo wayyyy, oh my god, darlin' you look amazing."

you'd have him stuttering stumbling over his words as the only thought in his head is how gorgeous you look. how, how beautiful.

after that, it'd just be him and his hands all over you. kissing you. admiring you. closely observing how the dress looked on your body. how it looked as he took it off of you.

and food! i have a personal headcannon that bucky is REALLY into food. like we all know that the way to a man's heart goes through his stomach or however that saying goes.

and he would love to see you cook something for him from ur cultural cuisine.

like just standing in the kitchen, being like, "oh what is that? what are u adding in the thing?" like pointing at the ingredients, asking questions like a little schoolboy 🥺🥺

and festivals!! ooh festies! bucky loves a good party, we all know that!

u'd tell him about a festival of yours coming up and how you are invited to go to a party/celebration thing that one of your friends organised and that would get bucky so so curious.

like he'd sit u down and ask u to explain the cultural significance of the festival.

and u'd spend hours explaining to him your culture and answering his queries.

he just loves hearing about your culture. he'd love to be a part of it someday.

u'd take him to a wedding and show him just how weddings are done in your culture.

he'd probably be blushing the whole time, as if he's the one getting married.

he'd prolly wanna get married to you the way they do it in your culture.

no fr man would have a whole monologue prepared in your language for when he proposes to you.

like mr. egan will literally get down on one knee, hold ur hand and ask u to marry him in YOUR LANGUAGE. his pronounciation would be the best he's ever had - he would practice for MONTHS for this proposal.

when ya'll marry, u're gonna be married both in the american way and if ur culture's weddings are different than his, you'd have a wedding from your culture as well.

kids! your kids would have both names from ur culture and english names as well!

this was mostly a self-indulgent post but hey! at least im writing something! yay! thank u @sagesolsticewrites  and @agir1ukn0w for the encouragement u gave me to write this lil' thing <33

feel free to rb and add on to this thing lmao <3

#john bucky egan #masters of the air #bucky x reader #john egan x reader #callum turner

[ch-4-eri]

Use Me — Jill Valentine.

jill X fem! reader.

warnings: smut, p in v, strap use, strap referred to as ‘cock’. verbal abuse, very mean jill (oops), overstimulation, spitting, crying, swearing (lots of it) let me know if i miss anything i wrote this at 6am sorry if there’s any mistakes (it is proofread ish).

word count: 2.6k

you tossed and turned in bed as the clock read 12am, typical.

jill’s light snoring is all you could hear as your thoughts wandered and wandered for probably an hour now, steaming glances at jill every now and then.

she came back from her job, ate something, had a little conversation with you, then she quickly went to bed, which you couldn’t even blame her for, jill worked for so long and she does this for the both of you, she deserves her rest.

but your ovulation week had other ideas.

you were an aching horny mess.

tossing and turning made it worse because any movement you’ve made involving your legs would drive you crazier, staying still wasn’t helping either, you were a cat in heat.

as your mind kept you awake, your eyes went to your sleeping girlfriend, jill’s arms hugged the pillow as she was breathing slowly and steadily, she looked so peaceful and here you were, an inappropriate film was going off in your head.

your fingers went to her arm, nudging her slightly. “jill?”

jill groaned in response, her brows furrowed. “jill…” you repeated, wishing she’d register it sooner.

she groaned once more, her eyes fluttering.

“jill… i’m.. horny.” you dropped it, like she wasn’t even half asleep.

“what the fuck..” she mumbled tiredly, her tone groggy but all it did was send your pussy pulsating, you felt so pathetic.

you nudged her arm again. “just wake up..”

“touch yourself in the bathroom or something!” she says, blowing you off with a dismissive hand.

“of course not.. it doesn’t feel as good as when you do it.”

“i’m sleeping.”

“you’re awake now.”

as soon as you said that, jill rose up from the bedsheets with a groan, she was fuming.

one thing about jill is that you knew she hated being woken up for no reason, especially when she needed the sleep so badly, she worked her ass off early in the day and she can’t rest from your whiny little voice and your hormones.

you knew you were testing her but it wasn’t on purpose, the ache inside of you hurt the whole day and you can’t ignore it anymore, even when jill rubbed the sleep out of her angry eyes, sipped some water off the bedside table bottle she keeps on her when she’s dehydrated from her deep slumber.

“i’m getting so fucking tired of you.” jill spat, closing the bottle aside and runs her thick fingers through her short brown hair, you frowned slightly at her words but you deserved it, lowkey, yet all of this was making you even more horny, the ache between your legs was unbearable.

“so fucking sick of you, i can’t fucking sleep in this goddamn house.” jill says again, standing up from the bed, still trying to get herself more awake to deal with you, you were a little happy about the fact that you got her to wake up but she was so moody, not that you deserved to complain about her mood, maybe she’d fuck you but she wouldn’t be nice about it.

she turned to face you as she tucked her hair behind her ears, her blue eyes sit on yours.

“take off your clothes… off. now.” she demands, her tone pissy and controlling.

“w-what?” was all you managed which somehow made jill even more angry, you could swore she would hit you or something, she never did, but she was too patient with you before, you wondered when she’d snap like that? it was sick of you to imagine jill hitting you for asking her for sex like that, jill would never lay a hand on you, not for the purpose of seriously hurting you, she always watches out with the way she deals with you, she knows you can’t handle her full strength.

“you seriously fucking woke me up just to ‘what’ me? take off your fucking clothes! you know what—“ she says her eyes wide open in anger, her face red as her veins popped out of her neck.

jill climed up the bed and grabbed your shorts, pulling them down your legs forcefully as you let out a yelp. “shut the fuck up! i’m so sick of you!” she argued, her fingers found your thin shirt and took that off as well.

you weren’t fighting it, but as much as it was turning you on, you wondered if she was truly this mad at you and it made you anxious, your heart dropped to your stomach at the idea, her tone and the way she handled you clothes, yet you were getting so wet anyway, your mind and cunt had two different opinions about this.

her fingers dragged down your panties, throwing them off the floor. pushing you down onto the mattress, opening your legs with a strong palm separating your knees, you could seriously salivate from this moment alone.

but before she did anything else, she unclasped your bra, she didn’t look impressed in the slightest, yes jill was used to your body, knew you every inch, every freckle, but now that she wasn’t even complimenting you, made your heart drop even more, horny and anxious all at once.

jill threw your bra on the floor with a force, grabbing your face in her palm.

“which part of i’m sleeping did you not understand?!” she shouts, her fingers ghosting your sticky area, it was pulsating, calling her name.

“jill…” you breathed, hoping she’d go easy on you, you were terrified but oh so excited your pussy was tightening around nothing. “are you really that much of a needy whore?” she spats, her eyes narrowed like she was truly shaming you for it, like she was a total prude and would throw rocks at you for behaving this way.

“every other day.. every other week you need me to fuck you, or else you wouldn’t fucking let me sleep!” she slams her fists onto the mattress, making you jump, your eyes watering at her behavior, but so was your dripping wet hole.

“you know what? i will fuck you..” jill heaved, grabbing your face into her fist. “i’ll fuck you so hard, so hard you won’t be able to walk, or even talk. fuck you dumb enough you’ll stop talking altogether and let me have my own fucking peace for once, that’s what pretty sluts like you deserve, should be grateful i even give you the light of day, you’re a brat, and i’m so sick of you taking and sucking the life out of me.” jill spoke, letting go of your face with a force as you shed a tear, her words hurt so bad but you needed her just as badly.

she got out of bed then, the sound of her feet as she went to look for her strap were too loud, putting all her energy in the stomping, you sat up a bit; rubbing your thighs together, wiping the tear off your cheek.

the sound of the drawers opening and closing was all you could hear echoing in the bedroom, jill wouldn’t look at you either, as she finally took out her strap, she walked closer to you in bed, she usually always slid a condom over it as you requested so, saying the feeling of it inside you was a bit uncomfortable, but now that you’re too wet for that she decided to just smear her spit over it.

jill spat on her palm, rubbing it across the rubbery tip so she can slide it in easier, yes she was mad at you, but she hated to think she’d wanna hurt you on purpose.

she climbed on the bed, strap perfectly wrapped around her hips, wet enough to slide inside of you as she parted your legs once again with her hands, positioning herself between your legs, brows furrowed, gaze averted.

you bit down your lip as you watched her get on top of you, her necklace dangling over your head, her tits peeking out of her loose gray tank top, no bra underneath.

she rubs the tip against your hole, teasingly so. “shh.” jill demands as soon as you started making noise.

“fuck you’re so tight..” jill cussed, sliding her cock in as you let out a gasp. “all this fucking and stretching you out didn’t loosen you up? damn girl.” she grunts, surprised at her change of tone, she was fully bottomed out as she started thrusting inside of you, your hands were shaking as they placed themselves on her hips, fucking yourself into her, the tip kissing your cervix with every thrust.

“is that good, slut?” jill says, forcing your chin between her fingers. “i’m not a slut.” you argued, your voice strained as you were fucked out. sweat already breaking out from your forehead.

“sure you’re not… look at you swallowing that cock whole… always begging me to fuck you, always demanding and whining for it.” she fucks into you deeper, making you see stars as it shut you up completely.

“good girl, i like it when you keep that pretty mouth shut.” jill continues thrusting, the sound of your squelching was like music to her ears. “you belong to me don’t you?” she whispered to herself, going faster just to see how you’d react, seeing the way you pulsate against her cock, the way you rock your hips to match her pace with your moans strained and your legs aching.

“hhhhnnn… jill i’m so close.” you managed, your finger nails digging into her waist from underneath her shirt, then your hands grabbed at her breasts, which drove jill crazy to just get you to cum, her pace went faster and faster, her girlfriend’s mouth open, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you squeeze at her tits, your thumb circling her sensitive buds, making jill squirm inside of you as she forced your wrists away with her hands, pinning you down on the bed with one hand, the other taking each one of your ankles and throws it over her shoulders, making the strap go in so much deeper as you let out a choked gasp.

jill had to take a second and look at you like that, sweaty forehead, red cheeks, lips so red and pretty, the position was a little different from every other one you’ve both been in before by her.

but she took a mental note to do this again, legs on her shoulders, your eyes closed and your breathing uneven as she refuses to move inside of you. watching the way your breasts moved as you squirmed and whined underneath her, jill can’t resist you and she knows it, no matter how angry she became, how fucking stubborn she gets especially after a terrible day at work which is every other day, she has a beautiful girlfriend she can use however she pleases, you’re her pretty little thing, her whole world, she’d probably crumble if she came back home and didn’t find you there.

“look at me..” jill softly says, a drastic change from her tone earlier as your eyes fluttered open, staring into her blue ones.

“i love you.” jill whispers as she begins to move her hips forward and continues to thrust inside of you, the tip abusing your cervix as her words made this even more intense and overwhelming.

you eyes watered, recalling her words from just a few minutes ago, compared to this. you couldn’t focus as you got even more stretched out, crying out loud from how good it felt then from how much you feared like you were losing her and this was her last straw.

“shh..” jill whispered once more, her tongue flicking against her bottom lip as she let go of your hands, holding them in hers as she fucked into you so much faster than before, sending the bed rattling against the wall, creeking against the floor while your lips met in a hungry kiss, tongue and teeth clashed as you were chasing your high, sensation so overwhelming you whined into her mouth, jill’s hands grabbed yours as she led you through such an intense orgasm, you were terrified.

you screamed, moaned, writhed, unsure of the noise that came out of you when you gushed all that you have against jill’s cock.

jill noticed.. and she slowly pulled out, mumbling sweet words and kissing your forehead, cheeks, lips, she overstepped a line and she was willing to make it up to you.

“shh.. you did so good, such a good girl.” she mumbled, rubbing her thumb against your cheek as you were trying to get a hold of yourself.

“it’s alright sweetheart… you did good.” she whispers into your ear. “i’ll be back.. okay?” was all jill said as she climbed off the bed, taking off the strap that needed cleaning now, not that you’d notice from how much you were vibrating and overwhelmed.

jill came back a few moments later, a cloth to clean you up and some water to hydrate you.

she carefully sat next to you and helped you sit up with a kiss to your forehead. “i’ve got you.” she mumbled, grabbing the cloth in her rough hand, slowly holding it up your thighs as you were too sensitive, you closed your legs in on her.

“can’t..” you shook your head, keeping your knees together. “i have to clean you up baby..” jill murmured, taking a hold of your thigh once again, cleaning up the cum off it. wiping it all the way up to your sensitive core as you squirmed. “jill.. careful.”

“i’ve got you..” jill repeated, cleaning you gently, watching the way you were limb on the bed, you were breathtaking.

as soon as she finishes cleaning you up and putting you into new panties and clothes, giving you some water as you drank the whole bottle. “easy… it’s not going anywhere.” jill mumbled, climbing on the bed next to you, recalling how mean and disrespectful she was to you early on, making her heart twist into her chest.

she took you in her arms, your smaller frame fit so perfectly into her, you wrapped your arms around her as she kissed your forehead.

“i’m sorry… i didn’t mean what i said.” jill finally said, she can’t let you go on thinking this is how she thought of your relationship, she loves you so much.

“there’s no excuse for me to talk to you like that, not when you needed me. i’m sorry baby..” jill added while wrapping her arms around you tighter, securing you into her grip gently.

“it’s okay..” you sighed, she noticed how non verbal you get after such a loud and messy orgasm, she’s glad it’s not because you were mad at her or resentful of what she said. “it’s not.. i don’t want you to be mad at me though, i can’t take it.” jill whispered into your hair, brushing a hand over your belly.

“i’m not mad.” you finally said after a moment of silence. “no?” “no.”

jill sighed in relief and kissed the tip of your nose, making your eyes close as she pulled the blanket over both of you, hoping you’d get a good night's sleep. she still needed to do so much to make it up to you, you’re her angel.

you snuggled up to her, eyes closed and heavy with sleep. jill brushing your hair with her fingers, her face so close to yours as she watched every flutter of your lashes, every time you opened your mouth and closed it. she leaned in and kissed your lips, unable to get enough of you as you kissed her back, barely, you were probably half asleep.

“i’m not mad.” you reassured her softly, which was enough to make jill go through the night without some exaggerated grand gesture, both of you falling asleep in each other’s arms.

#jill valentine #jill valentine smut #jill valentine x female reader #jill valentine x you #jill valentine x reader #resident evil smut

[kinokappe]

࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙ ⪩⪨ ࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜ ࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚

Grandmaster's Favorite

Pairing: Bi-Han x fem!reader

Warnings: soft Bi-Han, slightly mean Bi-Han, P in V, unprotected sex, praise.

A/n: this is just a short fic I wrote to satiate the corners of my mind that are left unsatisfied with Bi-Han content, I'm filling my own void 😭

⚠️ NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MDNI⚠️

Bi-Han was known to be a cold and ruthless leader. Being the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, he had to be strong and capable, relentless when it came to his enemies to ensure the safety of Earthrealm and to maintain the high position of his clan.

Being in this stressful position, he often found himself letting off steam deep inside your throbbing pussy, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as the sound of skin-slapping echoed through the room. The filthy display of your legs bent, resting painfully on his shoulders as he bullied his angry, needy cock into your cunt was obscene, not to mention how hard you were gripping the sheets to the point they would almost tear.

"Eyes on me, baby... Moan my name" he commanded coldly, his hair hanging loosely from his forehead. His thumb rubbed and circled your clit with such vigor and passion that you almost passed out, creaming on him again for the nth time and causing a white, creamy circle to form at the base of his cock.

He loved it, seeing your pupils dilate and your mouth hang open as loud moans of pleasure, curses and a repeat of his name spilled from your lips, turning him on even more. "Do you love it when I'm pounding into you, huh? Love it when I fuck you, fill your pretty little cunt?" He chuckled darkly. All you could do was nod desperately, your nails digging into his back as red trails followed, his hard dick pumping you full of his cum again.

"It's too much, Bi Han~!" You whimpered, eyes glossy and half-lidded, trying to squirm away from him to no avail. "You want me to stop, princess?" He mocked, "I know you can take more than this.. you're basically squeezing my cock, you sure you want me to stop?"

You opened your mouth to try and reply with some snarky remark when he suddenly pulls out, leaving just the tip before pounding into you again, going hard and deep, kissing your cervix with his dick and reaching all the spots your fingers never could.

The knot in your stomach tightens again much faster than you hoped. You grab at his arms, opening your eyes to look at him, desperately trying to warn him of your impending orgasm. But he's relentless, completely lost in the heat and wetness of your abused little cunt, loving the way you scream and moan for him.

"Fuck, princess..." He sighs into your ear, feeling you shake and tighten around his creamy cock. He slows down, still rubbing your clit in a more gentle manner to help you ride your high. "I love you.. you take me so well, make your grandmaster feel so good..." He praised, pressing soft kisses to your neck and chest.

Despite his soothing words, you still feel the aftershocks of how hard you came, his seed already leaking out from the corners of your pretty little hole, leaking down the length of him and drenching your thighs, it almost looked like porn at this point.

Bi Han gave you a few more thrusts before his hips finally stilled deep inside you. He sounded heavenly, letting out the most erotic of breaths and grunts, blowing his load hard into your cervix. He pulled out slowly, his dick starting to soften as he massaged your thighs, helping you lay your legs down from his shoulders.

"Are you alright, sweet girl?" He asked, softer than you would expect him to say. All you could do was nod, simply ruined by his gargantuan cock. He replied with a small chuckle, holding your hand and kissing your palm softly before he slid off the bed, the mattress creaking from the loss of his weight.

Before your eyes threatened to close, you could feel him cleaning you up, running a damp towel over your body and between your thighs, behind your legs and on your chest. "I think I went too hard on you, princess... I'm sorry". He looks a bit apologetic, but a smile creeps up his lips when he sees you lean into his touch. He leans in to kiss the corners of your eyes, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach and down to your thighs, helping you relax.

"I'm ok, you're just.. so rough" she chuckled weakly, opening her eyes to look up at him. He looks so soft like this, the moment so domestic that it makes her heart flutter. "And you were such a good girl for me.. taking me in so well, making me feel so good" he praised, squeezing her thigh gently.

Soon, the space beside her dips and he lays down, wrapping his arms around her to make her lay on his chest. She could feel his heartbeat against her chest, his hands rubbing up and down her back so softly it had her purring against him. "Love you.. I love you" you whispered to him, closing your eyes and feeling the heavy burden of sleep start to consume you.

"Sleep, princess.. I love you so much too, you did so well..." he smiles, kissing your forehead and burying his face into your hair, breathing in your scent before he starts to fall asleep as well. It was nights like this when he just wanted to let go of his responsibilities as grandmaster, yearning for her warmth and touch, loving the closeness and the feel of her breath on his skin. He loved it, he loved her.

#bi han x reader smut #bi han sub zero #mortal kombat #bi han x reader #bi han x you #smut #mortal kombat bi han #sub zero x reader #bi han smut #bi han mk

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐔𝐒 ─ AS³⁷

TRACK 4 ─── DOWN BAD

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | one summer, one town and the fullest love you've ever felt all to be ripped away from you. life was pointless without the love of your life, your soulmate (even if you'd only known him for three months).

─ word count | 3.4k

─ warnings | dramatic af, oh god, so so so so so much angst WITH NO HAPPY ENDING (ur gonna cry by the end of this), where do i even begin? love bombing, LYING AF, andrei being mysterious asf, mention of life being hopeless, very depressive themes and like.. babygirl is GOING THROUGH ITTTT, maybe even suicidal themes (depends on your perspective), lmk if i missed anything else?

─ ev's notes | down bad has been on repeat since friday, it's genuinely so addicting (but like... the entire album is so?)

YOU LIFE FELT ABSOLUTELY hopeless, like the color was drained from it.

How could one summer change the whole trajectory of your life, you're not sure. Your entire perspective of love had been turned upside down, each day felt like a struggle just to breathe, let alone find any semblance of meaning or joy. It was as if the universe had conspired to strip away every ounce of hope, leaving behind only an empty shell of a person.

How could you let someone con you so easily? Make you believe that you were his soulmate, only to absolutely wreck you? You couldn't help but wonder if he felt even a shred of sympathy and if he ever stopped to think about you, like you did with him?

How could you have been so naive, so blindly hopeful in the face of his deceit? The wounds he inflicted cut deeper than mere flesh and bone; they pierced straight to the core of your being, leaving behind scars that may never fully heal.

You could barely get out of bed ─ you can't even remember a time when you didn't know him, even if you'd know him a short span of time. The weight of his absence feels like a physical force, pinning you down to the bed as if gravity itself has conspired against you. How could you go on without him, when every corner of your world still echoes with his presence?

It's as if he had woven himself into the fabric of your being, leaving no thread untouched by his influence. Even the simplest of tasks feel overwhelming without his guidance, his encouragement, his love.

You try to remember a time before him, a time when your heart beat to a rhythm untouched by his melody. But the memories blur together, distorted by the prism of his existence. It's as if he had always been there, a constant presence in your life, one way or another.

──

"Are you a local?"

You turned around to face the voice that had drawn you out of your thoughts, an annoyed expression on your face. But as you looked up to meet his chocolate brown eyes, all the irritation had quickly dissipated.

First, you noticed his eyes ─ they were so big and brown, you could feel yourself get lost in them. Then your gaze fell to his lips and ultimately, his smile and his dimple. Whoa, he was gorgeous.

"Uh, yeah." You got out as you managed a smile, turning to face him completely.

His smile widened at your response, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest at the sight of it. It was infectious, lighting up his face in a way that made it impossible to look away.

"Great!" he replied, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm here on vacation. Any recommendations on where to grab a bite to eat?"

His voice carried a hint of a Russian accent weaving through each word like a thread of silk. It added an extra layer of intrigue to his already captivating presence, drawing you in even further.

"Actually, there's this little café a few blocks down the street that serves amazing sandwiches," you offered, your voice betraying a hint of excitement. "I could show you, if you'd like."

God, what were you doing? You didn't even know what you were saying before the words flew out of your mouth. To your surprised, his smile widened into a grin as he nodded.

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he nodded in agreement. "I would love that," he replied, his accent lending a charming cadence to his words.

As you stood up from his seat, you took in his build; you just realized how tall he was. He towered over you, his frame exuding a quiet strength that only added to his allure. It was as if he commanded the space around him effortlessly, a gentle giant in a world full of noise.

Together, you made your way out of the café and onto the street, the sounds of the city fading into the background as you fell into step beside him. His presence was comforting, reassuring, like a steady anchor in the midst of chaos even though you'd just met the stranger.

As you walked, you found yourself stealing glances at him, admiring the way the sunlight caught in his hair, the way his eyes crinkled with laughter at something you said.

Arriving at the café, you found a table by the window. As you settled in, the conversation began flowing effortlessly between you. With each passing moment, you felt yourself drawn deeper into his orbit, captivated by the way his presence seemed to fill the room with warmth.

"So, what do you do, Andrei?" You found yourself asking as he paused for a moment, taking a sip of his drink before sighing.

"I'd... I'd hoped you didn't ask that." Andrei's tone came out amusing but you could hear the sincerity, too. "I play for the Hurricanes. A hockey team."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise at Andrei's revelation. "The Hurricanes? That's impressive,"

"It is, but it's very demanding. That's why I came here," he explained as a smile began playing on his lips. "To get away from everything, even just for summer."

"Why would you want to get away?" You asked, your curiosity getting the best of you. As you registered your words, you shook your head as you sighed. "You don't have to answer that."

Andrei's smile softened, a flicker of gratitude shining in his eyes at your understanding. "No, it's okay," he replied, his voice carrying a note of sincerity. "Sometimes, even the things we love can become overwhelming. I guess I just needed a break, a chance to clear my head and remember what's really important."

"I get that," you said, a small smile playing on your lips. "Sometimes, we all need a moment to step back and breathe, to remind ourselves of who we are outside of our titles and our accomplishments."

Andrei's gaze softened, a silent understanding passing between you. In that moment, you felt a weird connection for a moment. He let out a small chuckle as he looked away, a tinge of redness enveloping his cheeks.

"You wanna get out of here? I still haven't seen the beach and I've been here for two days." Andrei's voice was amused as his gaze finally flickered back to you.

His chuckle was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you at the sight of his flushed cheeks. There was something endearing about his candidness, a rawness that drew you in even closer.

"Absolutely," you replied, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

After that, the two of you spent every moment together. You didn't know why you were so drawn to him ─ it wasn't just how abosolutely beautiful he was, that wasn't even a factor after you'd spent the whole week with him. It was something more, something raw you hadn't felt in a while ─ or maybe even ever.

In Andrei's presence, you felt as if you were seeing the world through new eyes. He showed you the beauty in the simplest of moments ─ the way sunlight danced on the water, the sound of laughter echoing through the streets of your hometown that you'd walked in a million times (somehow, it was different now with him), the warmth of a shared smile exchanged between two strangers.

But it wasn't just the external world that he illuminated for you; it was your own heart. With each conversation, each shared comfortable silence, he peeled back the layers of your soul, revealing the raw, unfiltered truth that lay beneath. In his arms, you felt safe, cherished, loved in a way you swear you'd never experienced before. It was a love that transcended the physical, a love that touched the very core of your being and left you breathless with wonder.

And as you lay beneath the stars in his arms, the night sky stretching out above you like a vast canvas waiting to be painted, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. For in Andrei's embrace, you had found something real ─ something cosmic and eternal.

──

"Do you ever wonder," he begins, his voice soft but filled with a sense of wonder, "if there's more to the universe than what we can see?"

You both gaze out of the bay window for a moment, the night sky stretching out before you like a vast canvas scattered with stars.

"It's... it's something I've thought about," you reply, your voice barely a whisper in the quiet of the night. "The universe is so vast, so incomprehensibly large. It's hard to believe that we're the only ones out here, you know?"

Andrei nods in agreement, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Exactly," he says, his gaze returning to the stars above. "I like to think that there's something out there, something greater than ourselves. Something that binds us all together, even when we're worlds apart."

"Yeah," you replied, your voice barely audible. "All the time, actually. It's... overwhelming, sometimes, to think about how big the universe is, how insignificant we are in comparison."

Andrei nodded, his gaze fixed on the stars twinkling in the night sky. "But isn't it also kind of liberating?" he mused.

"To know that we're just a small part of something so much bigger than ourselves? It makes all our worries and fears seem so... trivial, in the grand scheme of things."

"You're right," you said, a sense of wonder creeping into your voice. "It's like no matter what happens in our lives, the universe will keep on spinning, the stars will keep on shining. It's... comforting, in a way."

Andrei smiled, a warmth spreading through you at the sight of it. "Exactly," he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty.

A comfortable silence filled the air before he spoke up again. "You know... when we met, when I said I wanted a break?" A pang of uncertainty flickered within you at his words, but you nodded, inviting him to continue with a gentle tilt of your head.

Andrei's gaze softened as he reached out to take your hand, his touch grounding you in the present moment. "I didn't just mean from hockey," he confessed. "I meant from everything ─ the pressure, the expectations, the constant scrutiny. I needed a break from the world, from myself."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of truth. You listened in silence, feeling the gravity of his confession settle over you like a blanket.

"I came here seeking some kind of relief from the chaos of my life," Andrei continued, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "But what I found was so much more than that. I found you."

The sincerity in his voice struck a chord deep within you, stirring emotions you had long kept buried beneath the surface. In that moment, you realized just how much he had come to mean to you, how integral he had become to the fabric of your existence.

You'd felt like you'd known him lifetimes but in reality, you'd only known him only a couple weeks. And yet, in those fleeting weeks, Andrei had become more than just a passing acquaintance; he had become a beacon of light in the darkness, a source of comfort in a world of uncertainty.

──

Andrei's arms wrapped around your waist as you both watched the sunset go down. His large frame practically engulfed you as he stood behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder. The warm summer breeze caressed your skin, carrying with it the scent of salt and sea. You leaned back into Andrei's embrace, feeling his hands squeeze your hips.

"Let's go for a swim, yeah?" Andrei's breathe hit your neck as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine as his warm breath danced across your skin.

His suggestion brought a smile to your lips, the idea of plunging into the cool embrace of the ocean sounding utterly inviting. You turned in Andrei's arms, a playful glint in your eyes as you met his gaze.

"Are you sure?" You teased, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "The water might be colder than you think."

Andrei's lips curved into a smirk, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Only one way to find out,"

"Wait, Andrei-" Before you could protest more, Andrei pulled you up on his shoulders. You let out a fit of giggles as he carried you out to the deeper waters, his strong arms supporting you effortlessly as you clung to him, your laughter mingling with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

"Ready?" Andrei called over his shoulder, his voice filled with excitement.

You nodded, your heart pounding with anticipation. With a smirk, Andrei took a few more steps forward, and then, without warning, he jumped, sending you both crashing into the cool embrace of the ocean.

For a moment, you were weightless, suspended in the currents, the sound of laughter and splashing filling the air around you. And as you surfaced, gasping for breath and laughing with joy, you felt a sense of freedom wash over you ─ a freedom that only comes from letting go and embracing the spontaneity of the moment.

Andrei's laughter joined yours as he helped you to steady yourself in the water, his eyes sparkling with mischief and joy. "See? Wasn't so bad, was it?"

You grinned up at Andrei, the exhilaration of the moment coursing through your veins. "Definitely not."

Andrei grinned, his smile lighting up his face as he tugged you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

He stared into your eyes, the grin still on his red face before he grabbed your chin and pushed his lips against yours. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

As you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his lips on yours, you knew with unwavering certainty that this was where you belonged; in his arms, consumed by love.

His touch was electric, sending sparks dancing across your skin as you lost yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his lips moving against yours. And as you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you found yourself lost in the depths of Andrei's gaze. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own desires, mirrored back to you with an intensity that left you breathless.

He caught his breath as he laughed, giving your cheek another kiss. "I don't know how to explain how I feel about you, it's something I don't think I've felt in a long time. Or... ever."

"I feel it too," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath of air. "Whatever it is, it's real. And that's all that matters."

Andrei's gaze softened, a smile playing on his lips as he reached out to gently caress your cheek. "I'm just glad we found each other," he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty. "And no matter what the future may hold, I'll always be by your side. You're like..."

He paused as he laughed, shaking his head with amusement. "My soulmate, or something like that."

You couldn't help but smile at his playful tone, feeling a surge of affection well up within you. "Your soulmate, huh?" you teased, "I can live with that."

Before you could fully grasp it, it had slipped away, fleeting in its passing. It was over before it even fully started. The summer had come to a close, and Andrei was talking about leaving back to Carolina.

You knew it was coming, of course it was coming. He had to go back to his home, where he worked, where his everything was. What about you? Hadn't you become his everything, just as he had become yours? Where did you fit into his world once he was gone?

And then one morning you awoke and he was gone.

It felt like something you'd seen in a movie, or read in a book. Confusion clouded your mind as you glanced around the room, searching for any sign of him. But as your gaze fell upon the empty drawers where his clothes once laid, reality came crashing down around you.

It was over.

The realization hit you like a tidal wave, sweeping away the remnants of the life you had built together over the summer. And in that moment, you felt a profound sense of loss wash over you, a hollow ache that echoed in the depths of your soul. You had known it was coming, of course. He had obligations, a life waiting for him back home. But that didn't make the pain any less palpable, the sense of abandonment any less hurtful.

Was all of it a lie? The laughter, the whispered promises, the moments shared beneath the stars – were they nothing more than empty words, hollow gestures meant to deceive?

The days following his departure, it felt hollow. It felt like you'd awoken from a daydream, something that only existed in your head. Was it really not as serious as you'd thought? Was he really not in love, as you were with him?

Life loss all of it's meaning, you never thought you'd be that girl: the girl who let a man absolutely reroot her entire life, just for him to leave. Had you really become that pathetic?

The days turned into weeks and the hollowness didn't fade, it turned into numbness then ultimately into a sense of emptiness that seemed to permeate every aspect of your being. It was as if a part of you had been hollowed out, leaving behind nothing but a void that echoed with the absence of his presence.

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself grappling with questions that had no answers. Was it all a lie? Had he ever truly cared for you, or were you just another pawn in his game? Had you ever really known him, your Andrei? The one who held you, laughed with you, whispered promises of forever beneath the stars? Or had he been someone else entirely, a stranger acting as the love of your life?

The uncertainty gnawed at you, a relentless beast that refused to be tamed. You replayed every moment, every word, every touch, searching for clues that would unravel the mystery of his true intentions. But the more you searched, the more elusive the answers became, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

You found yourself crying every night, every free moment you spent bawling your eyes out over a man you're sure you'd never really known, just another stranger who had walked into your life and turned it upside down.

The pain was like a physical ache, a weight pressing down on your chest until it felt like you could hardly breathe. How could someone you had cared for so deeply have caused you so much pain? How could you have been so blind to the truth of his intentions?

You needed him again, life felt meaningless ─ no, life was meaningless without him. Nothing felt worth having without him. Without him, life felt like a barren wasteland, devoid of color and purpose. Every moment seemed to stretch on endlessly, each day blending into the next in a monotonous haze.

You found yourself longing for his presence, for the sound of his laughter and the warmth of his embrace. Without him by your side, even the simplest pleasures felt empty, leaving you adrift in a sea of loneliness. What was the point of it all, you wondered, if he wasn't there to share it with you?

No one would ever make you feel like he did, no one would ever manage to love you like he once had. It was a truth that cut to the core of your being, leaving you feeling exposed in its wake.

How could you ever hope to find happiness again when the one person who had made you feel truly alive was now gone from your life?

You tried to fill the void with distractions – with work, with friends, with anything that would help numb the ache of his absence. But no matter how hard you tried, the emptiness remained, a gaping wound that refused to heal.

In the depths of your despair, you found yourself questioning everything ─ your worth, your purpose, your very existence. What was the point of it all, you wondered, if he wasn't there to share it with you?

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey #nhl oneshot #hockey fic #andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov moodboard #andrei svechnikov smut #carolina hurricanes #carolina hurricanes x you

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Mustache Ride » Lloyd Hansen

Pairings: Husband!Lloyd Hansen x Wife!Reader

Summary: Y/N wants to take a ride on Lloyd’s mustache.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, face sitting, dirty talk, kissing, fingering, female receiving, praise kink, use of pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Lloyd is irresistible, especially his mustache. He eats you out every chance he gets. You’ve been curious to know what it would be like to get a mustache ride from him. In other words, sit on his face. That’s what you’re going to try to convince him to let you do right now. You walked in the main room of his and your big house to see him working on something.

“Lloyd?” You say, your voice sounding quiet.

“Yes, pumpkin?” Lloyd says, turning his attention to you.

“I want to do something with you.” You say, taking a seat on his lap.

“What would you like to do, princess?” He asks, placing his hands on your hips.

“I want a mustache ride.” You say, rubbing your finger across his mustache.

A chuckle left Lloyd’s lips as a smirk formed on his face.

“I can do that. Go to our bedroom and I’ll be there in a moment.” He says.

Tingles of excitement went through your body and you felt your panties dampen with your slick. Lloyd kissed you before you got off his lap and went upstairs to yours and his bedroom. You stripped from your clothes and sat on the bed, patiently waiting for your husband.

“You’re such a good girl, pumpkin.” Lloyd praises, walking in the bedroom, closing and looking the door behind him.

You watched as Lloyd approached the bed and laid down on his back.

“You know what to do, princess.” He says.

You crawled over to him, placing your legs on either side of his shoulders. His hands rubbed the sides of your thighs to your ass cheeks, giving them a squeeze. His hands found their way to your hips and pulled you closer to his face. You gasped when you felt his breath against your wet pussy.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long, sweetheart.” Lloyd admits.

Your hands grasped the headboard when his tongue licked in between your wet folds. A surprised moan left your lips. He did that for a moment before latching his lips on your clit and began sucking on it. Your hands tightened on the headboard as pleasure slowly took over your body. Your eyes fluttered shut and your head tilted back.

“Lloyd…” You moaned more in a gasp.

You slowly moved yourself against his mouth, gasping when you felt his mustache rubbing against your clit. One of his hands left your hip and went to your pussy, sliding a finger inside of you and rubbed along your wet walls. A breathy moan left your lips.

“Oh fuck…” You moaned more in a whine.

His finger moved at a steady pace while his tongue began to circle your clit, sending a tingling feeling through your body. You glanced down at your husband, seeing him staring up at you. He winked up at you. Lloyd slid another finger in your pussy and began moving both of them in and out of you while his tongue continued to work on your clit. Pleasure slowly took over your body. Your eyes fluttered shut and you bit your bottom lip, enjoying the pleasure. Lloyd’s free hand reached up and cupped your breast before getting it a squeeze and pinching your nipple. You gasped and your cunt squeezed around his fingers. Lloyd smirked against your pussy, pleased with the reaction that came from you. He repeated his same actions on your other breast, earning the same reaction from you before putting his focus back on your pussy. Lloyd curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. You bucked your hips against his face. His tongue moved in a flicking motion against your clit.

“I know you’re getting close, sunshine…” Lloyd almost whispers. “The faster you cum, I’ll fuck you stupid.” He says.

You moaned at his dirty words. His fingers moved faster as they fucked you, curling against your sweet spot each time. His tongue continued to flick against your clit, along with the hairs of his mustache rubbing against it. You felt your lower abdomen tighten. Lloyd knew your orgasm was coming closer and closer. He quickened his movements with his fingers and tongue to get you closer to the edge. Soon enough, you were right there.

“Lloyd, I-” A moan left your lips before you could finish your sentence.

“Cum for me, pumpkin.” He says.

A loud moan of his name fell from your lips as you came. Lloyd’s fingers and tongue came to a slow stop. You breathed heavily as he lowered you down to the bed.

“Holy shit…” You breathed. “That was fucking incredible.” You say, turning your head towards Lloyd.

“Don’t say that just yet, sunshine.” Lloyd got off the bed to strip off his clothes. “We’re just getting started.” He says, getting back on the bed.

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

-Bucky’s Doll

#lloyd hansen #chris evans #chris evans characters #lloyd hansen x wife!reader #lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen one shot #lloyd hansen imagine #husband!lloyd hansen #wife!reader

[bahrtofane]

helloo can we have dialogue 9, trope 20 with tchouameni pleasee🫂

- "Stay, please?" - two idiots pinning and not realizing the other is just as in love

word count - 700+

watch it - sleepy eepy silly lovers

I luv him sm yall 

You get a call at 3 in the morning. At first you think it's an alarm so you slap your phone a few times before fumbling around for your charger, sticking your face in your pillow and drifting away. 

Then you get another call, and this time you clock that it's not an alarm but your dearest friend who's decided blowing up your phone is much better than letting you get any rest. It's Friday and you'll give him a pass. (Aurélien gets any and every pass in your book but he doesn't need to know all that).

You answer, of course you do. Voice hoarse as you sit up, slouching against your pillow while you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Mind if you open the door.” he mumbles after a rushed greeting. 

You squint,”what?”

“Your door, can you come and open it.” he repeats again. Slower. 

“Where are you?” you yawn.

“Outside, I got you things from Germany and they're really perishable and supposed to be refrigerated and I won't be able to so I thought I'd stop by. Sorry it's so late.” he breathes into his phone.

“No it's okay,” you stumble out of your bed and feed for your slippers in the dark, padding around your apartment phone wedged between your shoulder and your ear. 

He stays on the line, even if he's a few feet away. Not hanging up til he’s greeted by a very puffy eyed you in your pjs still fighting sleep. 

He thinks you're beautiful like this. Warm and soft, exactly how you make him feel. In full honesty he could have kept the assortment of treats with him. His hotel probably has a mini fridge. But he wanted to see you. He knows both of you will get busy again. He'd rather not waste any chances. So here he is, standing in your door frame, sleek black carry-on suitcase in hand and a bag just for you in the other.

You use him inside, flicking on a light and taking his baggage. He tries to fight you but you only whine, wheeling it away from him and up against the wall.

“Tea?” you croak.

He giggles, “no it's okay,” he hands you the tote,” this is for you, i should get going.”

“No wait,” you rub your eyes, “it's late. Stay please?”

His resolve soon crumbles as you take him by the hand, leading him further into your home. To you its second nature. Not a second thought as you dig in your closet for a spare pair of slipper. 

“I have pjs for you somewhere, “ you mumble. 

“No no,” he waves his hands,”its okay i have my own.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

You hum, padding along to get your room in order.

When you come back you see him in his pjs trying to settled on your couch and you frown, “no no you're sleeping in a proper bed get up.”

“It's your house.”

“And?”

“No i'll take the couch you have one bed i can-”

You shut him up with a tug to his sleeve, dragging him to your room. You turn your lamp on and slide in, motioning for him to follow. Friends share beds right? You would have offered if it wasn't him, and he wouldn't have accepted if it wasn't you. 

Maybe it's due to it being so late, to the jet lag, to you just being woken up. Or maybe it's because he feels so safe with you, so at home. And you feel so comfortable, and it feels so right when he slides in next to you, curling his hand around his face and resting his head against your pillow.

You've dreamt about this a million times. But you're too drowsy to be able to truly take it in. 

It's okay, the way Aurélien stares at you wide eyed admiring you makes up for it. He feels too excited to sleep but forces his eyes shut, turning the other way, and taking a deep breath to calm down.

You don't know this now but come morning you'll be pressed up against each other legs tangled and far too embarrassed to bring anything up. You hope he comes by again, maybe at a more reasonable hour next time so you can properly remember it. 

#aurélien x reader #aurelien tchouameni x reader #aurelien tchouameni #tchouameni imagines #tchouameni x reader #tchouameni #aurélien x you #aurelien x reader #bahr footy #bahr 300 event

[abouttofillhisshoes]

Lena!! ❤️❤️❤️

I finally thought of a request for my fav MPIND Matty 🤭

Maybe something with girlie using a toy on him? Maybe a vibrator? Overstimulation perhaps?

-Sugar-coat-it <3 <3 <3

@sugar-coat-it This was supposed to just be a short blurb but i got way too carried away xx. hope u like it!!

Rush! - Matty Healy

A/N: This was so fun to write!! MPIND Matty lives in a special corner of my heart i think i might never stop writing for him. @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff tysm for being my (half decent) beta reader and making sure this isn't totally shit. Enjoy!!

wc: 9k

content warnings: filthy, semi public?, but also not really, overstimulation, teasing, begging, dom! reader, most of the time, matty is a cocky piece of shite but we love him, grinding, bondage, marking, use of sex toys, specifically a vibrator, what else hmmm, both of them are high, so dubcon?, still in their right mind though, wow the content warnings are long

Everything reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap liquor, hints of Jimmy Choo’s ‘illicit’ lingering in the air around Matty. You scrunched up your nose at the scent, Matty obviously having doused himself in it while you were in the bathroom, straightening your hair. Soft music played in the background, Matty using his turn on the Ipod to put on some ambient stuff George had made (yup, George was a music producer now for some reason? Quarter life crisis vibes.) 

Adam was on his way, his little red Kia primed and ready for a good smoke sesh in some parking lot somewhere. It was nearly winter, which meant going outside was hardly an option considering neither you or Matty actually owned anything resembling warm clothing. 

“I'm not letting you wear my coat again. Remember what happened last time?” he says when he sees your ‘finished’ outfit; a pair of jeans and a sage green long sleeve top, adorned with white and beige rhinestones. How dare he even mention that day, the state you entered the house was completely his fault.

“That only happened because you booked it down the fucking street and left me there!” It was true. The two of you had been sharing his massive coat, both of your bodies easily fitting into it, up until he decided the last four blocks home were to be a sprint, and took his jacket with him.  

“Touché.” he grins as you shake your head at him. Fuck him, honestly. You tell him as much, his only reaction being a simple shrug of his shoulders, and his attention was back on his reflection in the mirror, carefully applying glittery purple liner to his eyelids, giving him a sort of emo-fairy look. Ross’d take the piss out of both of you, all dressed up to go smoke in a car on a wednesday evening, but you knew Matty already had some sort of comeback prepared, about how at least he groomed himself, and wasn't desperate to be a ‘proper’ lad (cue Ross chucking the nearest object he could pick up in Matty’s direction). 

Impatient as ever, you sigh loudly, trying to get Matty to stop hogging the shared vanity. You could always just go back into the bathroom, but his lightbulb was truly shit, and besides, most of the stuff he was using was yours anyway. 

Finally, you give up on trying to keep the piece, and promptly shove him off the chair 

“Stop doing yourself up and move-” he doesn't budge, hanging on to the edge of the desk for dear life, refusing to let you finish getting ready.  

“Violence is never the answer- Fuck off, christs sake, fine!” he whines like a child, getting up and throwing himself on the bed, and you cringe as it creaks loudly beneath him. 

“You love it when I hurt you, shut up.” you tease, watching the look in his eye dramatically change. “Not like this!” he shoots back, flipping you off before grabbing his Ipod, switching to something more punk, heavy drums and guitar filling the space. 

“Touché.” you repeat his own words back to him, and he rolls his eyes, sitting up. Taking the same brush, also using the same color, you frame your eyes with purple eyeshadow, trying your hand at a smokey eye. The two of you were matching more often than not, with Hann’s comments on it slowly getting on your nerves 

“You both look the fucking same, its like you’re clones.” he’d overexaggerate, just to get a reaction out of a easily riled up Matty. 

“D’you reckon Ross’ll have the good stuff this time? I can't deal with Hann’s bickering otherwise.”

You shrug your shoulders, looking at Matty from the corner of your eye. Maybe Adam’s comment rang somewhat true, seeing as Matty was wearing the exact same color scheme you were. Green Jersey top, definitely stolen from George, paired with blue, seventies style jeans, white and red trainers peeking out from beneath the too-long pants.

“I dunno, but we could go to the shop if it's shit, maybe get some wine?” you suggest. It was always 50/50 with Ross, and bad weed always fucked Matty off to no end, making him unbearable. Almost finished, you look around for your mascara, hands rifling through the piles of makeup littering the desk. 

“Where’ve you put the mascara?” you ask, slowly getting annoyed. 

“Left.” he answered curtly, engrossed in the newest edition of vogue. Sure enough there it was, bots of product caked around the cap. Coating your eyelashes with it, you hear Matty stand up and walk over to you. Setting spray topped off your look, and you run your fingers through your hair, smoothing it out. 

Matty isn't particularly strong, but then again, neither are you, so the strong hand around your wrist was useless to fight against, and you let him pull you up. Face to face with Matty, you quirk an eyebrow at him. What was he playing at? 

“You look absolutely gorgeous, darling.” you blush at the compliment, quietly telling him to fuck off, smiling as you see him grin at you. His brown eyes rake over your body, giving you a slow once-over, savoring the sight in front of him. 

“Stop looking at me like that-” he cuts you off with a tug of your hair, smashing his lips against you. Surprised, it takes you a solid few seconds to properly kiss him back, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the kiss. His tongue immediately shoved past your lips, licking into your lips with fervor, drinking in every small gasp for air. 

“Taste like sugar as well, so sweet.” He pulls you back in, deliberately not giving you an opportunity to answer. You feel his hands wander, trailing down your back and under your shirt, caressing your bare torso. His fingers toy at the band of your bra, teasing the clasps. Refusing to let you go, he presses your body flush against his, and you can sense every inch of him on your skin, like electricity, the smell of him travels up your spine, intoxicating. 

The buzz of your phone snaps you back into reality. The guys, your plans. It takes every ounce of self control in your body to press your hand to his chest, effectively separating the two of you. Matty looks at you with a hurt expression, hands quick to cup your face, desperate to taste you again. Shaking your head, your voice is slightly as you tell him that the others are already outside. 

“I haven't seen George in like three weeks. You're not the only person in the world, you know.” George was up to his eyeballs in Uni coursework (yes, Uni), and hasn't been able to hang out since forever, making you really miss him. 

“I could make you feel like i'm the only person in the world, have all your attention on me.” he says with a wink, tracing your collarbones over your shirt. Matty was a hard person to say no to, with the way he peered down from above you, eyes wide, silently begging you to just stay.

“No.” you say firmly, grabbing your bag from the chair you were previously sitting on and slinging it over your shoulder. Instinctively, Matty takes it from you, holding it out of reach. 

“Can't have you carrying your own bags, what would people think?” he teases, pushing past you and out the door, his footsteps heavy on the carpeted stairs. You follow him, heartbeat finally starting to slow. Already at the front door, Matty waits for you to tug your boots on, leaning against the coat rack as you did. 

“What the fuck was that about, anyway?” The way he kissed you was passionate, hot, and definitely not something you just do on a whim. He tries to play innocent, raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders. 

“Nothing, just wanted a peck.” he answered, running his fingers through his slightly damp hair, still not fully dry from the shower he had taken a few hours prior. You scoff, looking at him in a ‘are you serious?’ type way. 

“You fucking jumped on me, don’t be a such a dickhead.” you feel around for your cigarettes and light, smiling fondly as you realize it's the one Matty had gifted to you. “What was your end goal? You know we’re about to meet with the others!” 

“I’m sorry for kissing my girl, jesus,” he exhales sharply, hand reaching for the doorknob, a loud honk sounding from the other side. Swinging the door open, Hann looks truly fucked off as the two of you walk down the driveway and climb into the car. Now usually, you would sit in the middle, between George and Matty, letting you comfortably lean forward to talk to Ross and Adam in the front, but it seems as though Matty had other plans. 

Shoving past you, he settled into the middle seat, setting your bag on the floor next to your leather clad feet. George looks over, slightly confused at the new seating arrangement, but accepts it, going back to rolling the first spliff. The car starts, sputtering before actually turning on, Hann letting out a sigh of relief. There had been multiple occasions where his ‘precious baby’, as he called her, refused to start, leaving all of you stranded until Ross somehow managed to find the problem and fix it. 

“See, this is what I mean,” Hann gestures to you and Matty, facing primarily Ross “They look like fucking clones of each other, its weird.” Matty reaches past the headrest and tries to smack him, causing the car to sway slightly as his hands leave the steering wheel.

“I’m trying to drive, fucks sake.” Hann mutters, pissed off now that Matty had almost made him crash the car. You set a firm hand on the dark haired boy's shoulder, lightly pulling him back into his seat. His legs are firmly pressed up against you now, and you feel a familiar tingling sensation blossom under your skin. 

“Try to go steady, ‘m almost done.” George has this legendary talent of being able to roll the perfect spliff in even the most impractical situations, making him a god in Hann’s eyes. The car slows down slightly, and you see George lick the spliff closed, admiring his work. Matty immediately snatches it out of his hands, grinning from ear to ear as he sniffs at it, the smell filling his senses. 

“God, you’re so fucking weird, mate.” Ross grimaces as he eyes Matty, watching him try to evenly light the spliff, failing miserably. Both you and Ross couldn't stand the earthy, stuffy smell of weed, constantly begging Hann to roll down the windows whenever someone decided to smoke in the car. Matty, however, had some sort of hash-fetish, and absolutely loved the smell of it, hotboxes being his favorite activity ever. He thought it heightened the experience, which was a load of shite, but he believed in nonetheless. 

You were almost there, the Mcdonald’s parking lot being your end destination. Taking the scenic route, the five of you passed the spliff around, partially skipping Adam so as to not get him completely off his tits while he was driving. Matty agreed to rolling down the windows, seeing how nauseous Ross looked, with you not being far behind. Wind raked through your hair as you leaned your head onto the edge of the car.

Feeling at ease, peaceful and very, very high, you don't even notice Matty’s hand trailing up your thigh. He was just like that, touchy and overly affectionate with everyone, not just you, though, the type of affection did differ slightly. Scratching your skin lightly, you feel his fingers claw at the thin material of your jeans, grabbing hold of your panties through them. Your eyes snap up to meet his, and he pulls suddenly, letting go of the elastic. It hits your skin with a muffled smack, and you jump, noticing Ross’ eyes on you, peering over his shoulder. 

Slightly disoriented, you don't even register Matty wrapping his fingers around the base of your neck, pulling you in for a hot, definitely too passionate kiss. Yelping in surprise, you sigh, almost inaudibly, into the kiss, letting him take control for a few seconds. George groans as he spots the two of you, dramatically shielding his eyes. 

Realsing where you actually were, you pull away, shooting Matty a look that can only be described as ‘what the actual fuck was that?’. His skin is flushed, matching the color of his droopy eyes. Hann doesn't seem to have noticed Matty’s little PDA stunt in the back seat, blissfully unaware of the reason Ross was grimacing right now. 

“I'd rather not see you snog, thanks.” Ross spits out, making a fake gagging motion as his eyes meet George’s, equally as unsettled as he was. Adam hadn’t seen the two of you, but the mental image was enough to make him join the other two in their disgust. 

“What, you jealous mate? You can ask to join, it's no problem.” Ross laughs sarcastically, taking the spliff out of George's hands, taking a deep drag. He could sense Matty wasn't finished yet. 

“You’d have to shave first, can't have you shedding all over my girl.” You still weren't used to him actually calling you that. It felt off, especially with your three other best mates staring at the two of you, silently wishing Matty would just shut the fuck up, for once. He was killing the soft, chilled out atmosphere with his incessant loud babbling, making George roll his eyes until you were sure they were going to get stuck there.

Ignoring the various groans of protest, he pulls you back in, basically climbing on top of you now. You giggle, partially because of the distinct floaty feeling clouding your mind, and partially because of Matty’s complete lack of shame, making him snog your face off just to rile up his mates, not really knowing how much it affected you. You pretend to be annoyed, shoving him off of you, wiping your mouth to really drive home the point. 

“For the love of god, Matty, stop humping her, she's probably sick of you by now.” Hann says, making sympathetic eye contact with you in the mirror. He knew how you felt about the kissing in front of the rest of the group, not wanting to alienate them from you and Matty’s dynamic. The whole thing was a complicated mess. 

His hand is still on your thigh as you squirm around a bit, you manage to gather your thoughts and speak for yourself. 

“I quite am, fuck off, Matthew.” he tenses. 

Now, to anyone else, you sound completely normal, if maybe a bit fucked off. Purposefully putting distance between you two, Ross reaches back and hands you the almost done spliff, and you inhale lightly, finishing it off. Matty is uncharacteristically quiet and you know he can feel your eyes on him. A warning. 

He was prone to acting out like this, loud and obnoxious, almost bratty. To Ross, George, and Hann, this was normal, his fits a cry for attention, wanting all eyes on him, but to you, it meant so much more. 

Stubbing out the joint, you throw it out the window, dangling your arm down the side of the car. George was calm, collected, and seemed to be enjoying life as Adam finally parked in your usual spot, turning the car off. Spreading your legs out more, you bump your thigh against Matty’s, making him twitch slightly, a soft smile spreading onto your face. 

“Matty.” you say, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

“Mhm?” nudging him, you lift both your legs up and onto his lap, draping yourself over him. George is a bit startled, but guides you over his lap as well, letting your feet settle against the other side of the car, pressed up against the door. 

“Fag?” George asks, holding out a pack of cigarettes in your direction. You happily take one, and so does Matty. Placing it between your lips, you watch George as he hands Matty his lighter after he lights his. His fingers fumble a bit, before finally flicking it on and inhaling the smoke, letting the nicotine mix with the weed, his face nothing but blissed out. It reminded you of what he looked like when he-

“Here.” he mumbles, holding the lighter in front of your face. 

“Do it for me?” you ask sweetly, leaning your elbows against the back of your seat and the headrest of Hann’s, making yourself comfortable. His breath hitches as you shift, the bottom of your thigh pressing against his crotch. Two can play at that game.

The flame paints his face in an orange hue, and you feel the world close on around you. The way his delicate hand holds up the light to your cigarette makes your head spin, and not just from the weed. You feel George shift beneath you on the other side of the car, rifling through his pockets, pulling out a small baggie and rolling papers, getting to work rolling another spliff. 

Hanns voice rings dully in your ears, asking George to hurry up a bit, saying he was nowhere near the level of high he wanted to be at right now.

“Let me do it, stop nagging.” George's movements are slower, his motor skills definitely more than just slightly inhibited. 

“Good?” Matty asks, your attention turning back to him. His eyes are glazed over, red and half closed, and his hair falls over his face, indicating he’s long overdue for another haircut. Mattys hands settle on your knees, rubbing small circles over the bone, warmth blooming underneath your skin wherever he touches. You refused to let it show, opting to lean your head further out the window, admiring the stars glimmering above you, the cold of the night biting at your cheeks. 

Matty can tell you’re cold by the way you shiver slightly, and he feels a bit bad, even if he did tell you to bring some sort of extra layer. 

“I’m fucking freezing.” you state to the car, Ross turning around to face you, lowering his seat back a bit despite Georges protests. 

“There's a blanket in the back, I think.” Hann nods in agreement, confirming his statement. Knowing you wouldn't be able to reach, Matty blindly feels around for it, fingers meeting a slightly scratchy, but still soft, knitted blanket. 

Draping it over you, his hands linger on your waist, goosebumps forming on your skin as his nails graze your tattoo. 

George is finally finished with the spliff, and hands it to Hann so he can light it. He greedily inhales, letting the feeling overtake him. A soft groan leaves his lips and you see the back of his head slouch against the headrest, lolling off to the side. 

“This is some good shit, no wonder Matty’s so quiet.” Hann mumbles, half to himself. 

“Told you, my guy’s the real deal.” Ross says with pride, like he’d grown it himself or something. Putting his feet up on the dashboard, he leans back, head craning to talk to Hann. Their conversation is quiet, meaningless, with Ross going on about his stupid bass instruments and chatting pure shit to a half dozed-off Adam.

George is in his own world, gazing out the window and off into the distance. He was tired, you can tell by the way the rings under his eyes were dark and prominent, evidence that he hadn't been sleeping much these days. Uni was truly kicking him in the arse. 

A loud sigh from Matty makes you snap out of your thoughts, flexing your toes a bit, trying to stretch without bothering George too much. You feel a tap on your leg, telling you it's fine, and that you can move freely. George smiles at you from across the back seat, stoned out of his mind and looking like he was ready to pass out in the next five seconds.

“Y’alright?” you ask Matty, who keeps shifting around beneath you. One particular movement makes your legs spread, his big palms gripping the side of your left thigh, kneading the flesh. 

His eyes flash up to yours, and the look he gives you is fucking delicious. Lips slightly parted, wet and swollen from his teeth gnawing at them for the past half hour, the sight makes your thighs clench, a cough escaping your lips.

The spliff makes its way to you, and you take a drag, your lips wrapping around it as you make direct eye contact with Matty. Your lipgloss rubs off on the filter, and you hand it to him with a smirk.

“I’m fucking knackered, I need to sleep.” George's deep voice cuts through the silence, and Hann nods in agreement.

“We’ve been here like an hour! We never hang out, let's stay for a bit.” Ross protests, sitting properly and trying to face everyone at the same time. 

“Yeah, let's.” you side with him. Matty’s eyes widen at your statement, and he goes to speak. A sharp look makes him rethink his actions, and he slumps backwards into the leather, pouting at you. You grin at him playfully, seeing him start to do the same, before pressing your leg down, right onto his crotch. Underneath the blanket, not one could see what you were doing, giving you the perfect opportunity to fuck with Matty 

“Fine, but I'm driving home in 20, whoever doesn't want to walk is coming with.” The tinge of annoyance in Hann’s voice is painfully obvious.

Time passes at a snail's pace as you continue your movements, thigh pressing down onto his steadily hardening cock ever so slightly, not wanting George to figure you out.

“D’you reckon Britney’s a good shag?” Ross asks, and you realize he’s holding a magazine, Britney Spears plastered onto the cover.

“Mate, maybe you shouldn’t-” George starts, but another voice cuts him off. 

“Probably, I mean, just look at her.” it's Matty speaking, you realize. 

His voice is drawn out and deep as he holds out his hand, silently requesting Ross to give him the paper. He’s taunting you, and fuck, is it getting to you. The way his eyes scan over the cover makes your blood boil, and you stare him down, warning him to stop. 

“She’s fit.” He says, refusing to look at you as he takes a drag from the spliff, passing it on. His eyes finally dart over to yours, reading you like an open book. You were jealous, and he knew it. It was his goal, after all, to rile you up enough so you knew how he’d been feeling since that moment in your room. 

“Hey Hann? I'm feeling a bit shit.” you lie through your teeth “Can we go?”. Ross tries to stop him, but with the vote being 4-1, he groans as the car sputters on, and Hann backs out of the lot. 

You go to sit normally, putting as much distance between you and Matty as physically possible, not even looking in his general direction. Not really speaking to anyone, you listen to the soft sound of the radio, the music distracting you a bit. Matty’s eyes are glued to you, watching your every reaction, you can feel it. He silently begs you to stop being mean, ignoring him like this. You almost cave. Almost.

The drive feels longer than it actually is, George being dropped off at his house first. He waves goodbye through the window, which is the only reason you turned to the other side. Eyes avoiding the boy next to you, you blow George a kiss goodbye, hoping he gets some actual sleep tonight. 

You and Matty were now both facing forward, chatting to Ross. 

“Must be great, having an whole fucking house to yourself.” Ross grunts out, clearly still fucked off that you decided to leave so ‘early’. 

“It is,” Matty answers, telling him how nice it was to live without his parents and with you, even if neither of you had the ability to prepare an edible meal, or clean the house every once in a while. You chuckle as his words, painfully true as you think back on the state you’d left your room in, clothes and books and various items strewn about the place.  

Matty turns to you, your small giggles at his story making him think he was off the hook. You shoot him a look, and he immediately retreats, knowing it wouldn't be that easy. Not that he didn’t like a challenge, especially from you.

“Alright, you two.” Hann breathes as the car comes to a halt in front of the house. The soft rumble of the engine was deafening as you opened the door, climbing out of the vehicle. Matty followed quickly, almost banging his head against the roof, narrowly avoiding a small concussion. You tapped on the window, waving goodbye to both men in the car. Flashing a smile, you turn to Matty, grabbing his hand and leading him up the steps. 

Inside the car, the conversation quickly shifted. 

“What's going on with them? They’ve hardly spoken since he stopped trying to jump her bones in front of us.” Ross just shrugs, mind spinning different scenarios of what could've gone down. 

“D’you think they’re fighting?” Hann nods, noting that you did look a bit pissed off towards the end. 

“I dunno, it's weird though.. them being a thing.” Ross hums in agreement. 

“Just leave them be, they’ll sort it out.” 

The click of the door unlocking was as loud as a jet engine, and you push it open with your shoulder, Matty trailing closely behind you. You take your time, taking off your shoes, setting your bag down onto the floor next to the coat rack. He fidgets on the spot, not quite sure what to do next. 

Without warning, you spin around, shoving him backwards into the door, both your hands on his shoulders. The tension is thick, his heavy breaths loud and desperate for you to fucking do something. 

A beat passes between you before he finally speaks, stuttering over his words. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t h-have fucked you off, not infront of everyone.” you raise your eyebrows at him, a condescending smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

“So you knew what you were doing then, trying to rile me up like that?” He nods, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows. He mutters out another “‘m sorry”, like it was going to save him at all. 

Your hands trace his collarbones, just like he had not three hours prior, and you see his breath hitch when you dig your nails into his skin, leaving behind red indents. 

“You wanna kiss me?” you ask, tucking his hair behind his ear sweetly, letting your fingers run over his jaw. 

“Yes.” he gasps, your chest now fully pressed up against his, your bodies now flush. Mattys eyes are filled with desperation, lust, thoughts clouding his mind and the sight of you wasn't helping him think clearly. 

“How badly do you want to kiss me?” he tries to speak, but you shush him. “How much do you want to touch me?” 

A guttural groan leaves his lips, and his hands find your back, grabbing onto your waist for support. You look at him expectantly, tapping his face to get his attention back on you. 

“Please, I'm sorry, just– fuckk, please darling.” His voice is small, soft, filled with want and desire. He pulls you in closer, and you feel him, fully hard, pressed up against your upper thigh. Your hand travels lower, pushing his shirt up as you go down, fingertips ghosting over his bulge, leaking and painfully hard. 

“This all for me?” Matty looks like he’s going to combust, but still, he manages to force out a small, choked ‘yes’. 

“You think you deserve it?” He freezes as you squeeze him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in your hand. A desperate whimper rips itself from his lips, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing shallowly.

“I’m sorry, just– please. I’ll do anything, just fucking touch me please, please, oh god–” 

You mouth at the spot where his neck meets his jaw, sucking an aggressive hickey into the skin, simultaneously stroking him over his clothes. Trying to seem unaffected, you pull away from his cock, placing that hand over his chest, hearing him whine at the loss of contact. 

“Upstairs. Wait for me.” Those four words manage to leave him absolutely breathless as he scrambles to tug his shoes off, throwing them into the corner. One last look is directed at you over his shoulder as he walks up the steps, almost tripping. Catching himself on the bannister, he disappears from view. 

You use the moment to take several deep breaths, steading yourself. Matty might be the more expressive one, but he had this effect on you, even if he didn't know the full extent of it. Every reaction you elicited from him made your knees weak, your façade of control slipping slightly. Running your fingers through your hair, you glance at yourself in the hallway mirror, making sure you look good. Good enough to send Matty fucking spiraling. 

The house is silent, apart from the odd creak of the floorboards underneath your feet. The door to your room crashes against the wall and you push it open, eyes immediately finding Matty.

Jesus christ.

Sprawled out on top of crumpled sheets, Matty’s eyes rake over your body, his cock visibly twitching in his pants at the sight of you. He had already taken off his shirt, the material bunched up next to him. The atmosphere in the room is heavy, thick with lust and desire and want and every other adjective that could be used to describe the fucking wet dream of a man currently sitting on your bed.  

His hands trail up his chest, toying with his nipples as he bites his lip at you, a wild look in his eyes. Your feet take you to the foot of the bed, kneeling down onto it, not quite sure where to look. His skin is flushed a deep shade of red, the blush spreading from his face down his chest, which was rapidly moving up and down as you reached out to touch him. 

“How do you feel?” your voice shakes, and you know he can tell. Does it actually matter to you at the moment? Absolutely not. 

An indecipherable sigh leaves Mattys lips as he looks at you, curls sticking to his forehead and his cock rock hard against the fabric of his jeans.

“I feel–” he starts, words getting caught in his throat as you trace the inseam of his pants. You still, motioning for him to continue.

“I feel so good, please touch me, I need you so bad. So gorgeous like this, love you so much– jesus.” 

You listen to his rambles as his eyes screw shut, everything being far too much for him. It's delicious, the way he squirms under even the slightest touch, involuntary noises spilling from his lips.

He trusted you, and you knew that well enough. Your entire relationship was built on a foundation of trust, a promise that you would never, ever, harm each other. Your hand reaches up to clasp his, squeezing gently. He smiles softly, wiping away the beads of sweat that had collected themselves on his forehead. 

Your eyes glance over to the nightstand next to the bed, the wooden exterior a stark contrast to the otherwise black furniture of the room. The bed creaks as you get up, slowly pulling the drawer open. Matty watches you move, fluid and sure, as you take out a vibrator, you hear a small gasp escape him.

“You want me, Matthew? Want to be good for me?” you grin at him, throwing one of your legs over his lap, settling right below his hips. The way his cock is straining against the zipper of his jeans couldn't be comfortable in the slightest, but you let him suffer longer, relishing in the way he whined whenever you shifted on top of him, just like he did in the car. 

“Will you let me use this on you?” That question is the final nail in the coffin, an animalistic groan ripping itself from the depths of Mattys throat as you palm him through his pants, beads of precum painting the front. 

“Please,” his voice cracks slightly, eyes silently begging for some sort of relief. 

“You know, you really shouldn’t have pulled that little stunt.” you speak, voice dripping with honey as you unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal making your heart speed up. Unable to speak, Mattys hands go to settle on your waist, gripping the fat of your hips. 

“No.” 

“W-what?” 

His chest heaves as you grab hold of his wrists, pinning them up above his head. The belt he wore with his pants, while usually completely unnecessary, suddenly proved quite useful. Your hands fumble a bit as you bring the leather up, binding his hands to the metal bed frame. The arousal plastered on his face was impossible to hide as he gives the belt a tug, sucking in a deep breath of air when he realized what you’d just done. 

“You’re so fucking– holy shit, you’re perfect.” his praises go straight to your core, and you grind down onto his thigh, feeling around for the vibrator that you’d placed somewhere next to you. 

Towering over him, you observe. 

It feels like you're daydreaming, the man in front of you just a figment of your dirty, vivid imagination. His skin glistened with sweat, and your eyes flicker down to the bulge in his black calvins. If there was a heaven, you’ve definitely reached it. 

Running your fingers up and down the vibrator, you grin at him, watching his thoughts run wild, every possible fantasy playing out right in front of his eyes. Clicking the toy on, you rake your nails over his chest, the loud vibrations filling the room. 

You had never done this before, but the utter look of devotion Matty gave you proved that he trusted you completely to do whatever you wanted to him. He follows your movements closely as you press the toy to the underside of his cock. Immediately, you see his eyes clamp shut, his hands instinctively pulling and fighting against the restraints. 

“You like that, baby? Feel good?” you coo at him, taking in every single twitch of his body, savoring it. He frantically nods his head as you move his boxers, letting his cock slap up against his stomach. The feeling of the vibrator straight onto his weeping erection felt like pure heaven, desperate moans spilling from his lips, unable to control his own actions. 

“F-feels so good, it’s so good, a-ah, fuck me–” he whimpers as you up the speed, your free hand cupping his face, smudging his eye makeup. Blissed out and shaking, Matty tries to hold off as long as possible, desperately wanting to be good for you.  

“I can’t– I'm so close, please, let me cum.” his eyes search your expression, begging for permission. Pleasure trickles up your own spine as a sudden movement of Matty’s thigh beneath you makes you grind against him again, a soft moan leaving your parted lips. You swear you could cum just from the sight of him alone, twitching and begging and so, so close to the edge he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. 

Shoving your fingers into his mouth, you watch as he chokes slightly, eyes welling up with tears. It's so unbelievably erotic, seeing him fall apart like this, all because of you. His dick twitches in the tell-tale way that lets you know he’s seconds away, just needing a little push. You lock your lips onto his neck, licking and sucking and biting marks into the skin, making him moan around your fingers. It's all too much for him, and his voice cracks once more before spilling into your hand, painting his stomach and the toy with ropes of thick cum, gasping and shuddering as you keep the vibrator against his cock, working him through his orgasm. 

You finally kiss him, fingers weaving through his hair as you lick into his mouth, his arms still helplessly trying to pull free. 

“That was– fuck– I can’t even describe it.'' His voice is raspy, sore. He looks utterly fucked out, a sly grin already adorning his face not ten seconds after you gave him the most mind blowing orgasm of his life.

“You dont think I'm done, do you? After the shit you pulled in that car?” 

Your sudden change in tone makes Matty’s eyes widen, his hips bucking up against you. The evil look in your eye as you lean down to catch his lips in a kiss only makes him impossibly more turned on, fingers itching to touch you, a groan of frustration leaving his lips when he realizes he can't do anything but lay there and take what you give him. You move, one of your hands leaving his chest. 

“What are you–?” The click of the toy is impossibly loud as a wanton moan rips itself from his throat, his hips twitching away, the sensation overwhelming and raw, almost too much. You grin from ear to ear as you study his reactions, writhing and pulling at the belt holding him in place, eyes silently begging you to just let him go.

“A-ah oh fuckk, no- I can’t–” he cries, arching his back, exposing his neck even more, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he tries to swallow down his sounds

“You can, I know you can.” you lick across the expanse of his collarbones, teeth grazing the skin harshly, the slight pain only making Matty thrash more, the leather of the belt digging into his wrists.

“It’s too much– jesus christ-” he chokes out as you tangle a hand into his thick curls, tugging his head forward, making him look at you.

“Look how desperate you are, you sure it's too much?” you press a kiss to his lower stomach, his muscles tense under the skin.

“I need you so bad, fuck,” he sucks in a deep breath, making direct eye contact with you.

“Look at what you do to me.” 

His sudden change in tone makes you take a second, truly taking in the sight before you. He smirks when he sees you staring, arching his lower back with the sole purpose of riling you up, knowing exactly how to get to you, and in turn, get what he wanted. 

“Such a slut, fucking begging for attention, aren’t you?” he nods slowly, winking at you provocatively as his eyes follow your movements. The name made his breath hitch, and the return of the toy back on his hardening cock feels like pure ecstasy, moans and whimpers spilling from his lips as you continued speaking. 

“Was it worth it?” he cocks his head at you, asking what you meant. 

“Was it worth it, fucking around in the car, embarrassing me like that?”  

“Absolutely, if it gets me this.” he purrs, trying to provoke you once again. You were going to make him eat his words if it was last fucking thing you were going to do.

“You have a lot of confidence for someone who was grinding against my leg under a blanket not even an hour ago.” A small laugh comes from Matty as he playfully tugs at the restraints, the sound morphing into a moan when you press the toy down harder, feeling him getting close again. 

“Gonna cum again, make a filthy fucking mess of yourself?” Matty is so far gone, his cocky persona falling away in bits as he bucks his hips against the vibrator, chasing his high. You watch him, sweaty and out of breath, his hands straining against the leather, the mix of pain and pleasure making his head spin. 

“I love you so much, please let me cum, please i’ll do anything, just let me cum–” there it is. Anything. He doesn't know the weight his words hold, willing to say everything and anything for you to let him fall over that delicious edge.    

“Cum for me, let me see you.” your voice shakes, one hand planted firmly on his chest for balance, while the other holds the toy to his cock, twitching and leaking all over himself and you as he cums, screaming your name loud enough that it echoed through the whole house. 

You watch as he shakes, gasping for air and writhing against the sheets, so overstimulated he could barely form a coherent thought. 

“Again.” you whisper as Matty shakes his head violently, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Do you want to stop?” he shakes his head again, hips bucking up against the toy, desperate whines and groans filling the room. His chest heaves, lungs expanding as far as they could go to try and bring some oxygen to his brain. Breathless and exhausted, he looks at you, eyes wet and pleading, the mix of pain and pleasure driving him insane. 

“Don’t s-stop.” he begs, voice sore and hoarse. Thoughts run widely through your mind, wondering how much more he could take before tapping out. “If you need to stop, tell me.” you say firmly, his frantic nods telling everything you needed to know. Clicking the toy back on, the reaction is immediate, visceral as he jerks under the warm feel of your lips on his jaw, pressing hot kisses down the skin, mouthing at his neck. 

Pulling back, you admire the deep purple marks you left behind, tracing them with your free hand. 

“You’re fucking glorious- I- I could look at you forever, so pretty on top of me, fuck, like a fucking wet dream, so perfect–” you listen to him babble through curses and moans, eyes drooping shut as he bucks up into your hand. 

“Yeah? You’re so gorgeous for me, taking everything I give you.” you whisper back, pupils completely blown out with lust, the high you were still yet to come down from heightening every feeling, every sensation, until you were grinding against his thigh, desperate for him. 

“I see you, baby,” your eyes snap up to his, a filthy smirk spread onto his face, “C’mon, use me like a toy, use me to get off.” his voice is sultry and low, working hard to bite back screams as you finally give in, sparks of electricity shooting up your spine as you increase the pressure on your clit, soft moans and gasps spilling from your lips as Matty tenses his thigh, lifting it slightly to meet your movements. 

“Don’t cum until I tell you.” you warn, refusing to give up power, even if Matty made it incredibly fucking difficult to not give in. His eyeliner was smudged, tears streaming down his face, your fingers wiping them away sweetly. You bring your tear soaked hand to your mouth, licking it clean while making direct eye contact with Matty, the expression on his face making the salty taste on your tongue completely worth it.

It didn't take much to bring you to the edge, the warmth in your core blooming everywhere else in your body, your blood feeling hot as you balance yourself. Being met with Matty’s smirk as you look up, the smugness quickly morphs into white hot pleasure when your hand finds his nipple piercing, giving it a small tug. 

You had convinced him to switch it out, the black metal ring being replaced with a purple barbell. It shimmered if you looked at it from a specific angle, a perfect contrast to his milky white skin, suiting him well. He gasps when you don't let up, tweaking the metal and rolling his nipple between your fingertips, an indescribable feeling radiating from his chest, making all the remaining blood in his brain rush down south. 

You were so close, you could taste it. Matty knew this, doing his best to get you there, just as you were doing for him, holding off his own orgasm. Filthy words leave his mouth, making you feel dizzy with pleasure, the feeling of his jean clad thigh against your clit making your legs shake on top of him. 

“So good, you’re so good– fucking marvelous, I could write a thousand songs about you like this.” he groans, eyes never leaving the spot where your core met his leg, watching closely. 

“I’m so close, fuckk.” you whine, your high pitched voice like music to Matty’s ears, his cock visibly twitching against the toy. 

“Cum for me darling, wanna see you fall apart on top of me.” he coos, and you feel your control slipping. It was all consuming, the pleasure making time slow as you barely manage to slow down to speak. 

“You first.” A relieved sigh leaves Matty’s lips, hips bucking violently, precum bubbling from his tip, coating your hand where you held the toy against it. One last arch of his back and he cums onto his stomach, painting his skin white. 

You groan at the sight, your own orgasm hitting you like a freight train, vision whiting out as you buck against Mattys thigh, his eyes burning a hole into your skin. He watches in awe as you gasp and stutter, the visual of his third climax too much for you to handle, carnal desire overtaking your body. 

Collapsing on top of him, your chest heaves against his, everything blurry and disoriented. He tried to move his hands to your back to hug you, but realizes he’s still tied up, the leather really digging into his skin, leaving angry red marks. 

“Darling?” you look up, apologizing profusely as you undo the belt around his wrists, kissing the burns it left behind. Matty chuckles quietly, running a soft hand through your hair, pressing your face into his chest. 

“That was..” he starts, eyes still wide in disbelief. 

“Okay?” you offer a hint of insecurity evident in the way you speak.

“Fucking amazing, visceral, undescribable, life chang-” you cut him off with a firm kiss, silently telling him to shut up. He giggles into the kiss, his other hand pressing against your lower back, pulling you impossibly close. 

“It wasn’t too much?” you ask, gesturing to the marks on his wrists. He shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He assures you it doesn't hurt at all, and besides, “You know I like it when you hurt me.” The cheesy wink that follows his statement makes you roll your eyes, leaning down to breathe in the scent of him. Fucking Jimmy Choo, ugh. 

“You have to stop using my perfume, you smell like a woman, it's unsettling.” you complain, wishing he’d use some sort of musky cologne instead. 

“I thought you liked it when i'm girly? Remember that time when I wore that skirt and you fucking mauled me–'' he tries to tease, being rudely interrupted by you digging the heel of your foot into his leg, making him yelp in pain. 

“That was different,” you mutter, avoiding his taunting gaze. 

“Was it?” 

“Absolutely, yes, now come here.” you grip his jaw, crashing your mouth against his, biting his lower lip, enjoying the small gasp he lets out. The kiss is hot, filled with love and trust, your heart swelling up in your chest. 

“Don’t ever pull that shit again, George could have noticed and that would've been a complete shit show-” you shudder at the thought of your mates knowing anything about your sex life, gagging inwardly.  

“You were the one grinding your leg down on to my dick, don’t act all fucking innocent!” he protests, a playful tone to his voice. 

“Imagine Ross knowing anything about what we do, he’d lose his mind.” you comment. Knowing him, he’d physically throw up and never speak to either of you ever again, the mental image having scarred him for life.

Matty is oddly silent, his hands fidgeting. Your eyes widen in realization 

“Dont tell me you fucking– Matty!” you shut your eyes, embarrassment flooding your body. 

“He’s my mate, and he asked. Who am I to deny him?” you hit his chest, propping yourself up as you laugh in disbelief. 

“Ross asking doesn't make it any better!!” you screech, watching him pull back at the sheer volume of your voice “For fuck’s sake Matty, what did you even tell him? I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye again, fucking hell.”  

“Just about the camera, nothing else, I swear!” you cup your face, letting out a frustrated groan. 

“You know I can never speak to him ever again? The fucking camera, are you taking the absolute fucking piss?!” you throw curses at him as he giggles into your hair, muttering apologies and promising to never say anything again.

“‘M sorry darling, i won't give out the details of our sex life anymore.” he jokes, earning a choked giggle from you, unable to stay mad at him. 

Looking up at him from your spot on his chest, anger fades as you take in his features. You could look at him forever if he let you, drinking in every inch of skin, committing it all to memory. Your fingertips touch the top of his cheeks, wiping away any left over make-up, smiling fondly as you do so. 

Love. That's what you see in his eyes. Pure love, utter devotion. His breathing is slow, the soft sound of his heartbeat comforting as you lay back down onto him, nuzzling your face into his skin. You could stand the permeating stench of Jimmy Choo if it let you hold him this close to you. 

“You’re mine.” he mumbles into your hair, stroking up and down your spine, pushing your shirt up. 

“I’m yours,” you answer, this overwhelming feeling of adoration taking over your whole body. Matty was yours, and you were his, from the second he said the words ‘I love you’ that night on the terrace, overlooking the glowing city. 

Life with him seems so real. Growing up properly, getting your own house, getting married. It was all possible, still, it felt far away, a distant future. You let your thoughts spin in your mind until the exhaustion won, your body going slack against Matty, soft snores filling the room.

Matty lays awake beneath you, the darkness of the room enveloping his senses. 

“I love you so much,” he mutters under his breath, knowing you couldn't hear him anyway. That was the moment he knew, the moment everything solidified.

You were just kids, the pair of you, young and free, life filled with infinite possibilities. So much was uncertain, but he knew one thing without a doubt. Eyes flickering over to his coat, they fell on the outermost left pocket. It wasn't about the pocket itself, but what was inside. Dark red velvet, the same shade as your favorite color. A box. 

A small one.  

#i had so much funnn #hope yall like the ending #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #drive like i do #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy x you #matty healy fluff #the 1975 smut #matty healy x reader

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

A gift fic for @thedeafprophet !!! congrats on finishing college!!! Rating: Mature Word count: 6,462 Ship: The Manager of the Royal Beth/Jamie Awnings Summary: The Manager of the Royal Beth has been feeling rather poorly lately. Jamie Awnings intends to help by forcing him to take a break from his work.     Tonight’s meeting had been planned four months in advance. He was a busy man. It had been canceled thrice. He was a busy, and nervous man. As Jamie walked through the sequence of rooms leading to the Manager’s private suite, they found themself debating the likelihood of him canceling again. They would understand, of course, as they by no means wanted to pressure him into doing anything he was uncomfortable with, but they were still hopeful he’d keep their appointment. They both knew how desperately he needed relief from his work, and how Jamie would gladly provide when given the chance.

     Most of the rooms were full of filing, presumably information he kept on every person who had ever reserved a room. Some were bursting, some dusty, some barely used. They wondered if all these of these rooms had always been here, or if he simply conjured another when the previous ones overflowed. The near final, and second furthest room, however, differed from the rest. It was akin to a linen closet, but instead of towels, it held a great quantity of quilts. Every color, size, and possible pattern seemed crammed onto a shelf here or there. This visit, they noticed a good quantity missing, and a single new one since their last visit. He could pretend he didn’t care, but this room would suggest otherwise. Still, quilts were not what they were here for.

     Most of the rooms were full of filing, presumably information he kept on every person who had ever reserved a room. Some were bursting, some dusty, some barely used. They wondered if all these of these rooms had always been here, or if he simply conjured another when the previous ones overflowed. The near final, and second furthest room, however, differed from the rest. It was akin to a linen closet, but instead of towels, it held a great quantity of quilts. Every color, size, and possible pattern seemed crammed onto a shelf here or there. This visit, they noticed a good quantity missing, and a single new one since their last visit. He could pretend he didn’t care, but this room would suggest otherwise. Still, quilts were not what they were here for.

    The question took a moment to process in his mind, as though he was listening to a foreign language. It struck them that he was. They began to repeat themself, hoping to go slower for him, when he said “Oh! Yes, you may.” He didn’t seem to notice their joke, but stepped aside so his visitor could enter. 

    His personal rooms were sparse, to say the least. Bed, bookshelf, dresser. The only personal touch he apparently allowed himself was a desk and chair, and that was likely permitted for only practical reasons. No wall decorations except a single clock. That same, awful wallpaper, that Jamie’s fingers itched to tear. The Manager chuckled, just briefly, at that. Well, they were glad to know he wasn’t entirely out of it.

    Still, Jamie was an actor, and could tell when someone was performing. They would let him continue his act for now, but they intended to help if he would allow. He could put on a façade that he was okay, and Jamie would help it be real. That was their goal tonight. The Manager had helped many, them especially, and they longed to return the favor. Of course, it was more than a simple favor, it was an act of trust and intimacy. Weakness bared openly, to not be rejected, but instead seen, accepted, and tended to. Cared for. Jamie stopped themself before that train of thought derailed into territory neither of them wanted to address. 

    He relocked his door behind them. Tonight, in this space alone, Jamie would be the one in charge. Their demeanor certainly showed it, confidence evident in everything they did. He was still by the door when they strode over to him with an intensity in their eyes. It took him off guard, and he even took a half-step back. The difference in their height seemed inconsequential as they pinned him with their gaze. 

    “Are you willing to perform your role tonight?” they asked. Jamie was very close.

    He gestured around the room with his free hand. “I had thought it rather obvious?”

    Jamie crossed their arms with a huff. “Not all of us are mind-readers.” When they said this, his presence in their mind began to thumb through their thoughts, choosing and plucking images and words to bring to the forefront. Their smile turned to a pout. “We’re not playing by those rules tonight, Mister. If I’m going to direct this scene tonight, I expect you to communicate with your own words and thoughts, not mine . I don’t intend to overstep any boundaries, or push you too far, and I want a clear idea of what I’m doing. Understood?” They leaned back as they spoke, making a point that this show would not go on if he decided to muddle the script.

    The Manager considered their words, and they felt his presence recede to nothing more than a faint wisp in their mind. They did not look fully satisfied, and he realized he had, once again, not said anything out loud. “Yes, I believe I understand.”

    Their expression brightened once more, and they were leaning back into him. “Now, are you willing to submit to your role tonight? ” they repeated.

    There was something about needing to say it out loud that made him hesitate. It was not the act of saying no that brought him doubt, but the act of saying yes. He knew if he said no, Jamie would be understanding, and would not press matters. There was no fear held there. But to admit out loud, that he wanted attention? He wished to be vulnerable? That he thought he was deserving of the privilege of submitting for Jamie, and receiving… receiving what he desired? It was that, which gave him pause. Perhaps this once though, he might be able to indulge himself. The hotel was all taken care of, it was solidly in an off season, everything had been carefully planned and arranged. Just for tonight, it could only cause the most minimal of harm. “Yes, I would like to.” The admission sounded almost strained. “But, ah, nothing sexual tonight. And, I would prefer to keep my drawers on.”

    “Thank you for telling me.” His face warmed as they continued. ”In that case, no ‘Jamie’, until this scene is over. Director, Sir, or Mst. Awnings for tonight, yes?”

    “Yes, Director. Though, I’m getting on in my years, so you’ll have to forgive me if I forget,” he joked to hide his anxiety. Was this a bout of hedonophobia?

    Mst. Awnings hummed. Could they feel his apprehension? They touched a hand to his coat, between the double rows of his brass buttons. “Yes, about that forgetfulness. How will you let your Director know if the show is to end early tonight, before the play is finished? How will you ask for a premature curtain call?”

    The Manager was not the most well-versed in theatre terminology, but he understood what they were saying. If things crossed a boundary, if this ‘scene’ needed to come to a sudden end, how would he tell them his want was genuine, and not just protest for the sake of protest? They had discussed this many times before. “Mercy. I will beg for your mercy.”

    “Good.” Mst. Awnings turned from him to study the nearby desk. Providing him space for the next question. It did not come right away, however, for they spent a moment studying what lay on the desk.

    Charcoal sticks littered the surface. A single stick of red, Surface clay as well. Amongst the mess were multiple sketches. Most were landscapes, except for one so thoroughly smudged it no longer had any distinct features. The drawings they could decipher looked like a place far different from London. Were they of the First City? Was that what was affecting him tonight? Or was it only a symptom? There was only so much they could do, but it was worth it to do even just that.

    “Are you begging right now?” came the question at last.

    “No,” he said, with confidence.

    Mst. Awnings turned back towards him, and nodded, assured that the show could now progress. It made them less tense themself. There was a monumental amount of trust that was being placed in them, and they did not want to squander or break it.To take anyone down into a vulnerable mind-state and hold them there was a privilege. The Manager’s submission was a beautiful thing, and an honor to be entrusted with. He was handing over his power to them, to wield as they chose, and putting enough faith in them that they would not harm him in any way he did not agree to. It was a rare performance, and they intended to take very good care of him tonight. 

    Jamie moved across the room, and sat on the edge of his bed with an expectant look, setting aside the small bundle. Their supporting actor made no move to follow, only watching with his still-stiff posture. They took a moment to assess his costume. He was fully clothed from toe to tip, as though expecting to be pulled away for work at any moment. Hopefully, that would not happen. The duo had done far too much planning for any unplanned intermissions.

    “Come here,” they requested. The scene called for removal of power, and what better way to show than stripping him of his uniform?

    He was obedient, but only just. His stage fright was getting to him as he walked over. Everything about him was tense, no fluid and relaxed movements. “Yes, Mst.?”

    They were the leading actor of tonight, and it was their job to soothe his nerves. They placed one hand on his hip, and rubbed a small circle into his coat. “You’re doing well. There’s no audience here. A performance for just the two of us. Call it a character-driven scene.”

    He breathed, slow and steady. Their voice was soft and calming. Yes, no other witnesses. A matinee for them alone. “Please, remind me what I’m to do next, Director. I seem to have forgotten.”

    “You’re to sit down, and change into your proper costume. Which is to say, I want you to remove your shoes.”

    Instead of sitting beside them on the bed as intended, the Manager made the painful decision to sit on the floor, and the contact was broken.

    “Why are you down there?’

    “You asked me to sit,” he said, puzzled. “Have I done something wrong?’

    Oh, they hadn’t specified where they had wanted him to sit. Clearly, he was trying to follow their words as best as he could, and only do as explicitly instructed. Jamie filled that knowledge into their mental stage directions. “No, nothing wrong, merely unexpected. Once you’ve taken your boots off, I want you to join me up here on the bed.”

    Once again, he did not move. “I might be needed in the rest of the hotel, Mst. Awnings. Perhaps I should keep them on in case I’m called elsewhere?”

    They considered his argument, then decided against it. “If your duties are pressing enough that you must be on constant call, perhaps a performance tonight is not a good idea? I should think, however, that whatever emergency would be had can wait a minute or so for you to redress.” His Lead leaned forward, and extended a hand. When he did not flinch or retract, they pressed their ungloved palm to the side of his face. Jamie brushed their fingertips over his beard, delighting in the texture. He seemed unwilling to relax, as if his tension was the only thing holding him together after all this time.  He seemed tired. Creases near the corners of his eyes marked his age. Did he choose to look so old? they wondered. They rubbed a thumb near his eyes, and watched those eyes flick over to their hand. The color reminded them of honey, or the Parabolan sun. Had they been this warm amber on the Surface? Were they deeper, darker, back then? A cool, dark brown, instead of his current, warm hazel? Did they still remember the sun? He closed him, and they hoped it wasn’t from embarrassment. Then, little by little, they watched him relax. It was almost imperceptible with how slight and slow it was, but it was there all the same, and Jamie cherished it. They lingered in that moment for the space of a few breaths, and then he moved to remove his shoes.They wished to help, but they knew they had to let him choose to do this one on his own. When Jamie went to take their hand away, his own hand twitched, as though there was something he wanted to do. He said nothing, and the urge had passed. Jamie was not the mind-reader.

    As they watched him remove his boots, something caught their eye. The remaining bedchamber  wall, which could not be seen until one was inside of his room, was different from the rest. Bare patches, devoid of wallpaper, littered its surface like calico spots. There was evidence suggesting he had tried to put the wallpaper back up, but it hadn’t seemed to stick.

    Soon, his boots were off and set neatly aside. With both his cane and a helping hand, the Manager made it back up and onto the bed. The two shuffled and got comfortable, resulting in May half reclining against the headboard and wall, and Jamie, straddling his lap for better vantage. He found himself needing to look away from their intensity.

    “You’re doing well,’’ they reassured. 

    “I have not done much,” he countered. It was not intended to undermine them, just a statement of fact.

    “True, but even small actions can speak a lot about a character.” They reached a hand up to his hat. His own hand followed them, placed atop theirs. “Will you allow me?”

    He said nothing, but managed a nod. They removed his hat, and set it aside, before returning their hand to his curls. His own hand dropped to their thigh uselessly. Their other hand snuck around his waist, and rested on his lower back, through layers of fabric. Jamie combed through his hair, seeming to delight in the streaks of grey that feathered through his hair. As their hand explored the nape of his neck, they leaned forward against him. Two hands, wrapping around him, their chest pressing against his own, a stage-parody of a hug, but without malice or mockery. How long had it been since someone touched him with such kindness? Taken time out of their day to do nothing but touch and comfort him? Was it because he was as truly unloveable as he thought himself? Or was it his own doing, simply never allowing it? 

    He decided not to focus on that, instead forcing his mind back to the present. Breathing in, breathing out, grounding himself with the scent of their perfume. They had leaned quite close, so it was easy to redirect on the floral scent surrounding him. Breathing in the smell of almost-roses, and making effort to concentrate on their hands. The hand buried in the mass of curls at his nape twirled and twisted his curls, not painfully. Just gently. He was still refusing to make eye-contact, so he startled slightly when a soft face pressed against the side of his. He imagined his beard was scratchy, but they seemed not to mind. In fact, they began to hum, softly against his ear. Or perhaps they had been humming for a while, and he was only close enough now to notice. They continued like that for some time, petting his hair and occasionally nuzzling him. It was strange, receiving this… attention, but he found himself melting like ice into water within their palms. 

    That was likely what they were waiting on, for him to become a puddle in their hands. But, he couldn’t complain, it was very nice. When Jamie leaned back and their hands moved to his hands, he was a bit disappointed, but not disinterested. They took one gloved hand first, his non-favoured, and turned it over. They bent over, and placed a kiss on his palm through the leather. Only a single kiss, though. The Gentleman’s gloves fastened at the wrist with a button, which they undid easily, taking their time in pulling them off slowly. When it was removed however, they didn’t let go of his hand immediately. Instead, they worked their thumbs into the muscles of his palm, massaging out aches and pains. It was remarkably effective.

    “This is what I do when I’ve been writing for too long. It helps with muscle cramps.”

    “It certainly makes a difference.”

    Jamie laughed, and moved to his other hand. “I’m not kissing this one, it’s still covered in charcoal isn’t it?”

    “I think so, yes…” He seemed almost embarrassed.

    They touched this glove as little as possible, undoing the button and pulling it off in a fraction of the time. Once that was off though, Jamie still took time to massage it. As if sensing each minutiae of his aches, they paid extra attention to where there was anything tense or swollen, without him needing to say or request anything. It was nice, feeling his hands loosening back into usability, having their hands bare against his own. He sighed with pleasure. 

    Jamie found themself distracted by how worn the skin of his hands was, and by how much a simple hand massage was doing to calm him down. It reminded them of when a book was well-loved, how the pages would go from bright and crisp, to soft and velvety on the edge. Perhaps he had been once well-read into softness, but left on a shelf to gather dust, and was unused to attempts to turn his pages, and love him into softness again. They worked a hand up each finger, one at a time, pushing blood back into his fingertips. His nails were trimmed short, but well taken care of. They worked their fingers back down to his wrist, undoing his coat cuffs. Once his hands were satisfactorily taken care of, Jamie began to work on undoing his coat. To keep him calm, they reassured him frequently, and praised him each time they popped open a button.

    To keep him calm, they reassured him frequently, and praised him each time they popped open a button.

    To keep him calm, they reassured him frequently, and praised him each time they popped open a button.

    To keep- how many rows had they undone? How many rows did he have? Jamie, only one row from the end, took a brief break. They rolled the aching their wrists, and the number of rows on his coat snapped back to an apologetic two, with only one, gleaming, teasing button left done. They undid one last button, and it was just that. One last button. He was allowing himself to be vulnerable for them. Jamie opened the flaps of his coat, and helped to remove it altogether.

    It was immediately noticeable how much smaller he was without his coat. No hat either, and he was borderline unrecognizable. Every actor looked different with their mask off. And yet, he still had those golden eyes, and the same wrinkles, so how could he be anyone else? Perhaps he wasn’t so unrecognizable after all. Here and there, the way he sighed the same, his hands still making the same nervous motions. No, not that different at all.

    Underneath he wore a button up, tie, and a vest. When he shifted though, Jamie thought they saw something else as well. They set his coat, folded carefully, off one side, then turned their attention back towards him. Curious hands ran down the black front of his vest, feeling for.. Ah! He was wearing a corset, though evidently a different style from Jamie’s own. They could feel the line where it started, and the rigid lines where the boning lay. Well, every costume needs a supporting structure, and it certainly explained his perfect posture after a long day of work. They wanted to see it, to investigate his lacing, and remove that which held him together, but Jamie’s hands stalled on his vest buttons. Perhaps they’d been getting too excited. It was good to take their time, savor the scene, and take things slow for the older companion’s stage fright. If they rushed things, they worry he’d be less inclined to take this roll again in the future. 

    The Director redirected their attentions. They saw him without his coat so rarely. His presence seemed almost diminished without it on, without the bright red and brass signalling the loss of one’s own mind. The Neath was full of fresh and unique horrors, and it was easy to bear witness to too many at one time, and then there he would be. A figure of imposing crimson that would whisk one away to his hotel, where he’d keep you until he was quite certain that all the nightmares were cleared. Of course, Jamie knew that he also took a little extra on top of that. “Running a hotel is expensive,” he had once told them. That was a long time ago now, when their acquaintance had only just begun. That had been a very red night indeed. 

    Without his coat though, he was no longer the crimson herald of nightmares. In fact, he looked as though he might have been suffering from nightmares himself. His clothing projected such a larger portion of his facade that it almost didn’t exist without them, and Jamie could see straight through it. It was evident in much of him. The slump of his shoulders, a shirt that had been hastily ironed and left creases in, the downward turn at the corners of his eyes. They could not write a more obvious depiction of a poorly rested mind if they had tried. Their companion wrung his hands below them, and avoided their gaze. 

    Mind reader.

  Jamie tilted their head and gave a crooked smile, trying to reassure him. “Well, maybe it’s only obvious to me. I d id study your tells for a long time for a certain game, you know. You’re still not as easy to read as a book, mind you, but I’ve got a leg up I think.” He huffed the ghost of a laugh, and returned his eyes to their direction, so they continued. “Besides, it’s not as if you haven’t seen me at my worst. You’ve probably seen half of this city at its worst. I can’t really judge you, and I don’t intend to. You of everyone should know how common nightmares are down here, Mr. Manager.” The emphasis of his title was intentional, reminding him of exactly the place he ran. The place they were in at this very moment, in fact. 

    He sighed. “It’s rather my job to take care of nightmares though and-”

    “-And you’re not working right now. If running a nightmare hotel could guarantee we’d never experience our own nightmares, then I think you’d have gone out of business a long time ago. Since your services are still needed though, it stands to reason that even people who use nightmares to pay taxes on their dream hotels still deal with nightmares themselves.” Jamie had moved their hands to his shoulders, massaging him in time to the lilt of their voice. “Therefore, there’s no shame in it, or in needing to relax.”

    His argument sputtered out before the Director’s logic. Their smile grew just a bit wider. Not entirely convinced, but placated, their supporting role leaned his head against one of their hands, which had slipped under his vest straps to get to his sore spots better. They remained in such a manner for several minutes, him leaning against them and fidgeting with their pant legs, and Jamie massaging him and humming a gentle tune. It was only after multiple repetitions of the chorus that he recognized it as a song from Mahogany Hall’s newest show. An actor had checked in last week singing many of the show’s songs. Had Jamie composed it themself? He found himself wishing he had paid more attention. Perhaps going out to see a play would do him good? He certainly didn’t get away from work often, whether here or with the Council.

    And, just maybe, he wanted to see Jamie perform on stage.

    Enough time eventually passed that their hands had migrated once more to his vest buttons. They were undone without fuss, repetition, or duplicity. As with his coat, they helped take off, folding it carefully before putting it aside. They removed his tie quickly as well, taking extra care around his neck. There seemed to be no reason for that at first, until he realized it was an extension of Jamie’s hesitancy around their own neck being touched. He appreciated the kindness, and caught their hand when it came back to him. They quirked an eyebrow at his actions. They blushed slightly when he kissed their hand, before returning it. He felt a wave of emotion bubbling up that was tamped down just as quickly. They turned their focus to his corset instead. 

    It was, as expected for his color scheme, red, with gold stitching. Everything appeared to be hand sewn, and Jamie suspected they knew by whom. It was shorter than their own corset as well, coming up only to his underbust, but more heavily boned than one would expect. They ran their hands over his corset, marvelling at the fine embroidery. From the upper edge of their vision, they watched his face darken with blush. Yes, he had most certainly made this himself. “Your maker did a wonderful job, they must have incredible attention to detail.” His blush grew, and he opened his mouth, but Jamie continued without break. “Such fine stitching as well, even and measured, clearly someone who knows what they’re doing. The construction looks very sturdy as well, and it must have been quite the task to stitch all those channels for the boning. Yet it’s incredibly precise.”

    He finally interrupted “I made this myself, it’s not the most-”

“Ah, well, that doesn’t really change my opinion, now does it?” 

    The Gentleman had no reply. 

    “Should it change my opinion, dear?”

    He paused, but finally spoke once more. “No, Director.”

    “Good,” they purred. They were proud of him for not arguing, it was a good sign that he was allowing himself to listen to them. Frequently that was not the case, but he was doing well tonight. For his reward, they needed to rearrange. Jamie moved from his lap to instead sit behind him. 

    As they moved to lean into him, they were distracted by another detail of his corset. Instead of the metal grommets that were common nowadays, his corset instead had golden, hand-sewn eyelets. Jamie was an author, not tailor, but they were certain those must have taken him forever. Every knot was carefully made, and held up well to the pulling of the laces. It was charming the amount of time and care he would put into things. They pondered on that for a moment, before moving on to their real goal back here. 

    Their companion’s breath hitched as he felt soft lips press to his shoulders, kissing overtop his shirt fabric. He was, without fail, surprised by their kind touch and affection. They moved closer, and then their body was against his, chest pressing against back. Hands smaller than his own wrapped around from his sides to hold him close. The gas lamps of the Beth flared brighter, and, rooms away, the lobby fountain began to overflow. Jamie continued to kiss along his back, moving slowly up his spine. When they went above his shirt collar to kiss bare skin, the entire hotel heaved and seemed to breathe, as if taking in a stuttering gasp. They still held him in embrace as they peppered his neck with dozens of kisses. The fountain was weeping so much water that several of the staff now had wet uniform hems. They could not do anything to stop the flow of water, and none of them wished to ask the Manager to fix it. 

    Jamie eventually came to rest their face against the side of his neck. With deft hands, they untied and loosened his corset laces, then began to work on his busk. It was difficult to do by sight alone, but Jamie had plenty of practice. When they removed his corset, the difference in posture was immediate and noticeable. Clearly he relied on it. Perhaps it would be best to allow him to lay back? 

    With a final kiss to the nape of his neck, the scene’s director moved back around to center stage. What they saw shocked them.

    The usually Merry Gentleman sat before them, with wet streaks of tears clinging to his cheeks. Jamie had barely processed this information before they had him pulled into another hug, somehow tighter than the last. Had they caused it? Had they done something wrong? Had he asked for mercy and they hadn’t heard? Had they, once again, ruined things? A hand came up to reassure them. 

    “You haven’t done anything wrong. These tears are… wanted.”

    Jamie’s inner monologue calmed, but there was still hesitancy. They met his eyes, and brought their own hand up to wipe away his tears. “Will you be okay to continue?” There was a seriousness to their voice.

    The gaslamps flared once more, mirroring the warmth of his eyes. Their Gentleman hesitated once more. He could back out, end the scene here and now, and they would not judge. Disappointed, likely, but he could trust them to cope with that. However, he wasn’t certain if he could. He was crying yes, but as he said, the tears were not a sign they needed to stop. There was catharsis in it. “Yes, I would like to continue, Mst. Awnings.” The ‘please’ went unstated.

    With a kiss to his cheeks, Jamie wiped away the last of their companion’s tears before they were satisfied they could continue. They hugged him a little while longer, and then busied themself in removing his shirt. His brass cufflinks were carefully removed, and the final row of buttons were undone. 

    The only layer remaining on his upper body was a sleeveless undershirt. This granted Jamie access to rather a lot of bare skin. The lights flickered as they placed their ungloved hands to his skin. They gave him a gentle smile, and the flickering stopped. It was just the two of them, and he knew Jamie would not hurt him. Not tonight, not here, not in this manner. He focused on slowing his pulse, deciding to lean back against the pillows and head board, allowing Jamie to do what they did best in a play; take the lead. There was a warmth to their hands. His nerves reacted to their touch, and sent gooseflesh down his arms. Jamie giggled seeing it. They ran their hands slowly over him, delighted in the texture. This, in turn, made him shiver, and the gooseflesh returned stronger, now making his dense armhair stand on end.

    “You look like a bushy cat that someone just startled,” they teased

    He huffed in return. “I am far more dignified than a cat, thank you.”

    “Hm. Not right now, I think.”

    He gasped in mock offense, which sent Jamie into a fit of laughter. They were close enough that he could hold them, and feel as they laughed. For the first time in some weeks, the smile on his face was genuine. When they recovered, Jamie moved on from his arms to his shoulders. His hair there was softer and lighter, and brown liver spots dappled his skin. Naturally, they had to bend over and kiss each and every one of them, until May in turn could not hold his own laughter back. They pinned him against the headboard with their body when he tried to push them away, and scolded him gently when he protested. He laughed and laughed as they made ever sillier noises with each kiss. Jamie’s heart swelled hearing his joy. Eventually, kissing his shoulders was not enough. He wore an undershirt, yes, but it left quite a bit of his chest exposed. His cheery demeanor had no change as they placed a hand just below his collarbone, where his chest hair was visible. They took it as a good sign to continue. A finger hooked under the waistband of his trousers, and teased it. “I want these removed.” Once again, Jamie could have easily stripped it off themself, as they had his previous layers, but this was his near final protection. He needed to choose. 

    He chose to cooperate, and pulled his trousers off near-immediately, though there was still a shyness to his movement. Jamie was not the only eager one now, despite his apprehension. The tears from earlier had been all but forgotten. They had a front row seat to admire his form. His stomach was soft and well padded, and when he leaned back, rolls and bumps formed at his side. His drawers kept him modest, though Jamie was able to see the shaping of his thighs underneath. His only other layer was his socks, and the garters that kept them pulled up. He was a handsome man, with a body well-worn, though perhaps not always well cared for. Hair peeked out from the tops of his socks and undershirt, and bottoms of his drawers, and thoroughly covered his arms. A very handsome man indeed. 

    After multiple minutes taken to appreciate the Gentleman’s body when no longer hidden by a ridiculous coat, it was time for the night’s Finale. The Director reached into the small bundle they had brought with them, and pulled out crimson, cotton rope. His eyebrows raised at the sight of it. Jamie brought the bundle close to his skin. “Yes, I think this color suits you well. First, however,” they set the rope aside, and untied their bowtie as they continued to speak, “I want to see you in this.”

    "I have my own bowtie Mst,” he argued.

    “Ah, but that’s not the point.” Jamie moved forward, and began to tie their bowtie around his neck. “The point is not that it’s a bowtie. The point is that it’s my bowtie, and that this demonstrates the surrendering of your role’s control to me. When one role’s costume incorporates an article of clothing from a different role’s costume to show their influence and the imposing of a different will, or some other symbolic exchange. That is the point.” They finished the bow, and then reached for the rope once more. “And this is the ultimate show of surrender for your role. You will have to do as I say, and follow the script I write for you. No improv here, darling.” They finished their statement off with a kiss to his forehead. After so many encounters with the Princess, and events at various dens and parlors, Jamie had managed to pick up the basics of rope binding. They took their companion’s hands gently, and held them for just a moment before they began. Rope looking over on itself, a knot here and a knot there. Crimson encircled his wrists and bound them together. It caused no pain, and had the gentle pressure of a friendly squeeze. When he attempted to remove himself from the bindings, he found he was unable to slip out. Of course, he could slip out if he really desired but, once again, he found himself wanting to obey, and was satisfied with what they gave. Besides, they were clearly pleased that they had successfully bound him, so he allowed it. A similar tie was done on his ankles, and just like that he was incapacitated, and trussed up. 

    Reaching within the bundle once more, Jamie pulled out a book. It was one of their more recent favorites. They moved to sit next to the bound Gentleman, and settled him so he was leaning on them. Jamie grabbed a blanket, and settled it over top the both of them. The two would stay like this for hours, with the poet reading aloud to him, petting and stroking him, as May had no choice but to relax and accept the attention. They would do all the voices for each character, and gesture emphatically, and he would laugh again. The lobby’s fountain would return to normal, and the flooding would recede. Eventually the lights would dim, and the curtains of the hotel would draw themselves, and they would know he had fallen asleep. When this happened, the poet would stop, set aside their book, and carefully undo his bindings, rearranging him as comfortably as they could. They would curl up next to him under the blankets, and tell themself that the cuddles and snuggles were for his benefit only. Just before closing their own eyes for the night, they would see that much of the wall had repaired itself. They would fall asleep at last, and the two would dream together under a Cosmogone sun, with little worry for nightmares or interrupted sleep.

    They would awake in the morning and redress themselves, and continue about their lives, each eased by the events of the night prior. As Jamie left, the room number would have settled on a ‘5’.

#fallen london #others ocs #jamie awnings #the manager of the royal beth #may of the calendar council #dye stained fics #oc x canon #jamie #may #maymie