#i honestly need to check my notes more I just like

[moonstruckme]

summary: your roommate James plots to befriend a shy you

part 1

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

The apartment is loud and messy when you come home, and James immediately feels bad about it. You freeze in the door like a doe in the woods, a few of his friends pausing their conversations to greet you from where they’re scattered haphazardly about the living room. 

You give a terse smile and beeline for the stairs. You’re wearing your work clothes, dirty and rumpled from a long shift, and it doesn’t escape James’ notice that you’ve bypassed the kitchen in your hurry to get to your room. You seem to have an aversion to being witnessed. He makes a mental note to check that you’ve eaten later. 

“Oh, do you work at Rizzo’s?” Lily asks you, evidently recognizing the uniform. You stall halfway up the stairs, and James suppresses a smile at your obvious reluctance. 

“Yeah,” you reply, voice even quieter than usual. 

“My friend works there.” Lily’s friendly demeanor is unphased by your timidity. The two of you have met before, like you’ve met most of his friends, in passing. “Do you know Mona?” 

You nod, easing up a bit. James wonders at the fact that you’ve lingered as long as you have, but then he notices Sirius noticing you, and he prays his friend doesn’t say anything to make you regret it. 

“Yeah, we’ve worked some of the same shifts,” you say. “She’s nice.” 

Lily grins at the confirmation. James braces himself as Sirius angles his head. 

“What do you do there, lovely?” 

The endearment instantly flusters you. Your shoulders tighten and your hand flexes on the banister as though to keep yourself from bolting. “I’m a host,” you say. 

“That’s nice.” Sirius’ grin is intentionally disarming, lopsided and flirtatious. You look as though you’re not sure what to make of it. “I’m sure it makes for good business to have the pretty girls welcoming customers.” 

It’s your last straw. You mumble something about it being nice to see them and all but dash up to your room. James hears your door shut with a soft click. 

Sirius frowns. “Skittish thing, isn’t she?” 

“Tosser.” Remus pulls him roughly against his side, rolling his eyes when Sirius wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s torso sulkily. 

“I was paying her a compliment.”  

“She’s just shy.” James doesn’t know why he feels the need to explain you, exactly. Your diffidence is fairly obvious now, but he still feels a bit guilty for thinking you just hated him when he first moved in. After knowing Remus for so long, he thought he’d be able to tell the difference between shyness and standoffishness. Now apparently he feels responsible for liaising between you and his friends. “You knew you were going to embarrass her, prick.” 

The conversation turns to Sirius’ tendency to verbally prod at those with quieter demeanors, which he denies vehemently and Remus corroborates with pointed looks but not much commentary. 

Once they’ve gone, James goes up to your room with a sandwich. The door is cracked but he knocks anyway, waiting for your quiet “come in” before he pushes it the rest of the way open. 

“Figured you might’ve missed dinner,” he says by way of greeting, going to set the plate down on your bed. 

It takes effort not to let his eyes roam the room. He can see in his periphery that your desk is cluttered but neat and your walls covered with pictures and art. An effect of your reticence is that, aside from what sort of shampoo you use and how often you need to restock the milk in the fridge, James knows very little about you. He knows you’re a good roommate. You’re clean, you don’t bicker about the thermostat, and you haven’t even seemed cross with him for eating the rest of your oreos (which he’s going to replace, seriously, as soon as he remembers to go to the store). You’re quiet, obviously, but along with that you seem kind. 

Honestly, it makes him a bit uncomfortable that you don’t seem to want to be friends. James is only human; he likes being liked, even more so by nice girls with pretty smiles, and it seems crucial that he be liked by nice girls with pretty smiles who he shares a living space with. If you’re going to brush your teeth using the same sink as somebody, you should be on good terms. James believes this. 

And though he hasn’t had to work so hard for friendship in some years, he is diligent. He thinks he’ll bring you around yet. 

Evidence of progress: the happy-surprised look in your eyes when you spot the sandwich. 

“Thank you,” you say, a tender sort of bemusement lining your words. “You didn’t have to do this.” 

“Well, if you’ve actually missed dinner, you probably ought to eat something more substantial,” James hedges. He pushes his luck, sitting across from you on your bed. “I don’t want to be an accomplice to your snacks-for-meals agenda.” That wins him a small smile. “But I do feel bad, keeping you from your own kitchen because I have friends over.” 

Your eyes flit away at the last bit. You take a hearty bite of your sandwich, chewing to avoid a reply.

“You should know, you are actually paying rent for the whole apartment,” he says, “not just your room.” 

You look chastened as you swallow, but you wave him off. “I would’ve gone down to get something later,” you say airily. “I didn’t want to infringe on your time with your friends.” 

“You?” James actually laughs. “Never. Trust me, we see plenty of each other. They could probably use a fresh face.”

You roll your eyes. It’s a ploy to keep from looking at him, he’s certain of it. “Well, regardless, you shouldn’t worry about it. I wasn’t starving.” 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Your mattress creaks as James stands. Some of the stiffness to your posture eases, and he wonders if you’re relieved to see him go, but you look up with another small smile. Pretty. 

“Thanks for the sandwich,” you say. 

“You should really have another one,” he replies, grinning back because of forces beyond his control. He starts backing out of the room. “Do you want me to make it? Actually, don’t answer that. I’m making it.” 

Your quiet laughter follows him down the stairs. 

#roommate!james potter #shy!reader #roommate!james potter x shy!reader #james potter au #james potter #james potter x shy!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter drabble #james potter blurb #james potter one shot #james potter oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders x reader #marauders au

[sukunastoy]

The “Businessman”

Pairings: Fem!Reader x Sukuna

Cw/Tw: Violence, mentions of murder, torture, none of this is towards reader though.

WC: 1221

Note: I wrote something similar to this a long time ago, but I can’t find it on here, so I’m redoing it with more detail. 🫶 I might make this into a series at some point.

~Your CEO husband doesn’t like it when someone makes you cry. They’ll never be a problem for you or anyone else ever again.~

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!! ✨

You're having a shitty day work, your boss being a complete asshole as usual. It's like he deliberately called you out in front of everyone else for the smallest of errors. Regrettably, you end up leaving early so you can go home and decompress. In other words, take a hot bath and cry. You didn't tell your husband, and you just wanted to sleep and not disturb him while he was at work, managing his own company. You didn't have to work, but you didn't like the idea of being just a stay at home wife with nothing to do. You liked a bit of a challenge, but this job was becoming too much of a stress factor in your life. When your boss wasn't being a complete dick, the work was nice, and you truly enjoyed the company of your coworkers. Talking gossip and having friends to go out on lunch dates with were the main perks of this job. Everyone was starting to get fed up with the boss though, and you often thought about quitting, since you didn't need this job, but you didn't want to give up your individuality.

As you pulled into your driveway, you sighed heavily into the steering wheel. It was barely after 10 am. Much too early to be home, but today was just too much to bear. Sulking inside, you kicked off your shoes and shed most of your clothing on the way to your lavish bathroom. You didn't need to tell Sukuna, your petty problems aren't something you wanted to burden him with.

But of course, your husband has tracking on your phone. And while he's in the middle of a meeting, letting his other associates talk about company improvements, his phone vibrates with your change of location. Glancing to the clock, he realizes, it's too early for you to be home. Not that he cares, you're free to do as you wish, but it was abnormal for his wife to be home so early on a work day. He isn't questioned as he stands and leaves the meeting, others knowing his personal affairs aren't to be pried into. This part of his job can wait. He has his driver make a few stops on the way home before he arrives, and he finds you curled into the large bed beneath the blankets. Feeling the mattress sink in next to you, your eyes flutter open to the gorgeous face looking down to you. Sukuna's warm hand is cupping your cheek gently, his thumb rubbing over the small dried tear streak from your eye. His gaze focused on it momentarily before lifting his eyes to yours.

"Hey, princess." he chuckles and kisses your forehead before placing something soft and velvety against your lips. The familiar scent of a rose filled your senses and you smiled weakly to him.

"Is it already after 5..?" You ask through a small yawn, assuming it was the end of his work day. "Not even close." He chuckles, his large hand rubbing across your hip, caressing you softly.

"Saw you went home. Came to check on my darling."

Ah, that's right. You sometimes forgot your husband knew your every move. Others thought it was severely controlling and an invasion to your privacy, but you honestly didn't care. He had his possessive traits, but you knew he'd never interfere into something innocent unless it was to benefit you. Like now. It was little moments like this you enjoyed. You didn't want to bother him, and he could see your location was heading towards home. So, not like you were straying away to a place he didn't know. But, he chose to come on his own. And the rose and small basket of your favorite treats he had got on the way home made it even more endearing.

"Just having a rough day?" His deep voice spoke against your skin as you now cuddled with him, his warm lips gracing your neck in kisses.

"Yeah, my boss can be such an asshole. I swear, he likes to insult everyone in front of a crowd for no reason. Its so embarrassing and I just wasn't in the mood today for his antics."

"Want me to kill him for you?" His serious sounding response made you laugh while shoving his arm playfully. "Ha, I wish."

Oh sweet innocent thing...your husband would do anything for you. With the money and power he possesses, a simple task as that would be nothing. You may have joked and laughed about a crazy fantasy that many wished upon their shitty bosses, but in your case, it would be taken care of.

This wasn't the first time Sukuna heard you complain about your boss, nor the first time you came home early and had been obviously crying. Sukuna was the endearing CEO husband who you loved and trusted with all your heart. At least, to you he was. To others, he was a terrifying sight, especially if anyone crossed him. Or you.

~~~~~~~~

Sukuna hummed in delight while slipping on a pair of black latex gloves, a slight twitch in his lips, pulling them to a grin across his face.

"If you keep trying to break out of those cuffs, I'm going to bash in your kneecaps." He said nonchalantly to his victim in the chair before him.

"You're fucking crazy! Just let me go man! I didn't do anything to you!"

Sukuna only hummed louder to himself to drown out the pathetic cries of desperation. Again, his victim wrestled with the cuffs, groaning and cussing while trying to slip his hands out of them.

Picking up the sledge hammer that was leaning against his prep table, Sukuna twisted it in his hands briefly, looking at the blunt end of the tool with delight. "Left, or right?" He simply asked, finally looking to the restrained man.

"You're gonna rot in jail for this shit!"

"Left it is."

Taking a step forward, Sukuna swung the sledge hammer swiftly into the mans left knee, and the sickening crunch of bones echoed through the concrete room. It only took one hit to completely destroy the man's knee, and Sukuna laughed in unison with the gargled screams from his victim. The man might eventually pass out from pain, but he'd wake him up again. This wasn't going to be quick and easy. He had too many tools laid out to have his fun for the next several hours. Pulling teeth and prying off fingernails were some of his favorite forms of slow torture.

~~~~~~~~~

Going into work the next day, the news of your boss quitting abruptly with no notice was shocking. You thanked luck, just happy he was finally out of here, and someone more respectable took his place. Perhaps he finally got enough complaints against him. Sukuna would rejoice in the lucky news with you later in the day after he made you an amazing dinner. And when he took you to bed, he made love so passionately to you, his large hands so gentle and tender to your body. You were clueless to his true nature, and he preferred it that way. He took pride in knowing the remains of your old boss were never going to be found. No one was allowed to make his darling cry.

#sukuna jjk #sukuna #tw violence #tw murder #jjk #tw torture

[wreckedandpolemic]

regret me - matty healy

(mdni) in which an enmity with a certain infuriating singer turns mutually beneficial. 11775 words.

warnings: oral (f and m receiving), semi-public sex, mild exhibitionism, praise, degradation, switch!matty

Entering Battle of the Bands at your local had started off as a joke. Mostly. Your bassist Sabrina had pointed out the poster last time you were there for drinks, and you’d signed your name. It’d be a laugh, you’d reasoned, a good way to get into playing live shows and meet some other local bands. Plus, a hundred quid cash prize couldn’t hurt.

But that was before you met Drive Like I Do. Or, more specifically, their insufferable little twerp of a lead singer, Matty.

He meets your eyes across the bar, smirking like he likes what he sees, and, honestly, he doesn’t hurt to look at, so you lift your drink in his direction and beckon him over. “Hi,” he grins. “I’m Matty. Are you staying for the show?” You nod, but he interrupts you before you can elaborate. “We’re on last, so you might have to sit through some right shit before it gets good. Have you seen some of the names on the lineup? I mean, True Romance? I bet they just named it that ‘cause it sounds pretty. Probably haven’t even seen the film.”

You glower, and it’s obviously not the reaction he expects, his face screwing up in confusion. “That’s my band. And True Romance is one of my favourite films, not that it fucking matters.” You get up from the table, scowling at him. “And I have a name, thank you so much for asking.”

Annoyingly, Matty’s right; most of the bands on the lineup are shit. But you figure that means you’ll wipe the floor with them, having actually rehearsed and learned your own songs that aren’t covers.

You look out at the crowd, adrenaline pumping in your veins as Grace tunes her guitar. This is probably the most people you’ve ever played for, you realise with a jolt, swallowing around the lump in your throat and stepping up to the mic. “Hello, everybody! How’s everyone feeling tonight? You feelin’ good? Yeah?” The crowd cheers back at you, and you grin blissfully. “Alright, I’m not here to dick about, I’m here to play some fuckin’ songs! We’re True Romance and this is Dream Girl.”

You throw yourself into the set, your hair sticking to your forehead as you sweat under the lights. Your gaze keeps wandering to Matty, sat in a booth with who you assume are his bandmates, nodding along and watching you with intrigue. He quirks an eyebrow at you and you tear your eyes away, grateful for the heat that hides the flush in your cheeks. The crowd is practically frenetic, cheering wildly as the final note whines out of the speakers, and you join hands with your bandmates and bow.

You blow a kiss to the audience and step off stage, passing Matty as he and his band take their positions. Checking the lineup, you scoff when you read the name of the band playing directly after you. Drive Like I Do? And he had the audacity to call your band’s name shit? But you quickly realise they could have the longest, most nonsensical name in the world, and it wouldn’t matter; they’re really fucking good. Matty looks like he was born for the stage, soaking up the crowd’s attention and magnifying their energy tenfold. It doesn’t even matter what they’re singing about (as far as you can tell, a video game) — every girl in the bar is screaming her head off, giggling to her friends when one of the boys so much as looks at her.

Okay, so maybe you’re a little smug that Matty won’t stop looking at you. You’re not blind, after all. Doesn’t make him not a cocky little prick. He comes straight over to you when his set finishes and you roll your eyes. “What, are you expecting me to fall at your feet ‘cause you can hit a few notes behind a mic stand?” you scoff, and he laughs.

“Oh, come on, love. No need for the only two good bands in here to be fighting. Promise I’ll buy you a drink after I win.” You scowl. “Oh, and she’s even prettier when she’s angry. Was it something I said?” he smirks.

“Fuck off and die,” you say with a saccharine smile.

Sabrina slides into the seat Matty just vacated. “He’s into you,” she says, passing you your pint with a slight wrinkle of her nose. You give her a look, and she scoffs, the pair of you so attuned to each other by now that you can communicate without words. “Oh, don’t be all you about it. He’s hot,” she laughs. “If you don’t, I will.”

“Be my guest. He’s a dick.”

She snorts into her Sex on the Beach. “The way he’s eye-fucking you? Tenner says he goes home alone tonight.” She leans in, smirking conspiratorially. “Or with you.”

You roll your eyes. Betting on a stranger’s sex life is… strangely on brand, for the two of you. “I’ll take that bet. Look at the state of him.” You wave a hand in his general direction, a pint glass in one hand and some girl’s ass in the other, her skirt hiked inappropriately high in plain view. She’s pouting, though, his attention clearly not on her even as he paws at her ass, gaze locked on you instead.

Sticking your middle finger up, you turn resolutely away as the other two members of your band wander up to the table. You lose yourself in the conversation, still wild with adrenaline from playing a proper show, and for a moment you forget why you were playing in the first place. When you’re announced as the second place holders, though, you remember, scowling openly because you know there’s only one band who could possibly be winning.

Matty extricates himself from the girls clinging onto him as the cheers start to die down and strolls over, setting a drink in front of you. “Here. Told you I’d get you a drink when I won,” he smirks, and you accept it grudgingly. Look, you’re not about to turn down a free drink, alright? “Don’t sulk, love. We…” He waves a hand, indicating both your band and his. “Collectively, wiped the floor with every other fuckin’ person in here. C’mon, don’t be a sore loser. Let me get you drunk, you won’t pay a penny, I swear.”

And as much as you want to punch his smug little face in, pour your drink over his vintage band tee, one you recognise as being horribly expensive, you’re tempted by the offer of getting smashed on Matty’s tab. Plus, Grace is giving Drive Like I Do’s bassist the eyes, so she’ll be fucking off over there either way.

So you take him up on it, downing vodka cokes until you can barely see straight, screaming in Matty’s face that Blur is obviously better than Oasis, come on! You don’t know how it happens, but you find yourself dancing with them and not hating it? Spinning breathlessly between Ross and George (who are actually pretty sound, in all honesty), you grab Grace and Sabrina by the hands and let them pull Alice, your drummer, into a circle, kicking your legs and laughing wildly.

Lost in sticky floors, thumping bass and a spirit-fuelled haze, you don’t push Matty away when his hands find your hips. You grind your hips back against him, let him press damp kisses to your neck, licking the sweat off your skin. A shudder runs down your spine, faint threads of desire creeping under your skin. “Stopped bein’ a sore loser yet?” he taunts, and your good mood vanishes like a snuffed-out candle.

You turn, slinging your arms around his neck and leaning in close. Matty’s tongue flicks out to wet his lips distractingly, the skin plush and soft. You have a sudden craving to bite down on the skin there, feel it tear beneath your teeth, taste blood in your mouth. You want him, and you want him wrecked. “You,” you say, low voice carrying all the intimacy of a kiss. “Are the most self-absorbed, insufferable piece of shit I’ve ever met. Bathroom. Five minutes.” Matty’s face splits in a wicked grin, leaning so close he could kiss you. You stay like that for a moment, sharing oxygen, the feeling of breathing him in intoxicating, like you’re drunk all over again.

The sticky air of the pub feels impossibly cold as you break away, Matty’s gaze burning into your back until you’re swallowed into the crowd, weaving your way into the bathroom. Matty clicks the door open a few moments later, glancing around furtively before slipping inside. All the air rushes from his lungs as you slam him against the door, one arm braced against his chest and the other tensed beside his head. A gratifying flash of fear crosses his face and you smirk at him, leaning close to speak against his lips. “Am I scaring you, baby?” He swallows thickly. “Good,” you breathe, connecting your lips in a harsh kiss.

Matty moans into your mouth, the taste of gin spilling from his tongue as you devour him. You kiss to hurt, to injure, to bruise, biting down on his lower lip and licking over the wound. He whimpers a little, from pain or arousal you can’t tell, but you have a sneaking suspicion it’s both. “Fuck, you kiss like an animal,” he gasps, chest already heaving.

You grin viciously. “Only when I hate you. C’mon, on your knees. I haven’t got all night.” Matty pouts a little. “Oh, what, did you think I was gonna let you fuck me? I don't know where you’ve been, you fucking whore.” His eyes widen, liquid desire pooling in his irises. “I’m waiting,” you hiss, and he obeys unthinkingly.

His hands come greedily up to your waist, fumbling with the chain looped through your jeans. Finally, he pulls it free, unbuttoning your jeans and tugging them down your thighs. Seemingly unable to resist, he presses a kiss just above the waistband of your panties, and you clench your jaw against the shudder that runs through you at the contact. “God, you’re so fucking pretty,” Matty groans, tipping his head forward so his curls brush against your lower stomach.

“Get on with it,” you growl, shoving your panties as far down your legs as they’ll go. Matty stares unabashedly at your cunt, slick with the only evidence of your desire you can’t suppress. You gasp as his fingers find your clit deftly, rough and calloused over your swollen nerves.

Without warning, Matty grabs your hips and pulls you towards him, so forcefully that you stumble on your feet. His tongue swipes through your folds, a pitiful whimper falling from your lips, and he smirks up at you. “Taste so sweet, darling. Like a fucking peach.”

You roll your eyes, gripping his hair and dragging him back to your cunt, his tongue lapping deliciously over your clit. “Use that pretty mouth for something better than talking,” you snap, moaning softly as he obliges. Matty’s fingers dig into your hips, nails biting crescents of frantic desire into your skin. He laps at you starvingly, tongue-fucking you deep and fast, the punishing rhythm making you dizzy. Heart rolls up your spine, his name poison-sweet on your tongue as you grind your hips down against his mouth.

You fist a hand in his curls, tugging sharply, Matty’s answering moan reverberating through you. “God, you are a fucking slut,” you groan, pleasure swirling low in your belly. “Like that I’m hurting you, hm?”

“Uh-huh,” he moans, indistinct and muffled as the sound vibrates through you. Liquid desire drips down your spine, pooling between your legs and melting on Matty’s tongue, hungry and sure as he buries it deep inside you. He pulls away to suck on your clit, your legs turning jelly-like as a pulse of blinding ecstasy washes over you. You aren’t sure if the bare bulb in the dingy little bathroom is flickering or if your vision is going dim, lost in mind-wiping desire as Matty braces your hips to press his tongue even deeper into you.

Whining, you clench your cunt around his tongue, holding him in place as his fingers come up to play with your clit. You’re barrelling towards an earth-shattering end, twined with the intoxicating power of having Matty whimpering on his knees. “Think you’re so much better than me, huh?” you murmur. “This is where you belong, on your fuckin’ knees for me.” He clings to you like you’re a mirage, like you’ll dissipate and leave him if he lets go, hard and begging and alone with your taste lingering on his tongue.

He draws sloppy figure-eights on your clit, euphoria spreading in your limbs, burning up your blood as you moan his name into the liquor-laced air. Your fingers scramble for purchase against the poster-plastered walls, losing your grip on reality, your impending orgasm stealing the breath from your lungs. A string of honey-slick moans fall from your lips, one hand buried in Matty’s curls as you roll your hips down against his mouth. He makes out with your cunt messily, wantonly, like he’s been starved.

“I’m so close, Jesus fuck—” you cry, slapping a palm over your mouth to keep from screaming as Matty bites down gently on your clit, the flash of pain enough to tip you over the edge. You tumble into oblivion, pleasure burning so hot in your veins that you aren’t sure you have any blood left. Matty licks at you, sucks on your clit, fucks you with his tongue as your cunt flutters around him, swallowing every drop of your arousal as you come undone on his mouth.

Matty’s eager, fucked-out grin is the first thing you see when you come back to Earth, legs weak and skull throbbing. Mustering up your dignity, you sneer down at him like he hasn’t just given you probably the best orgasm of your life in a cramped, dirty bar bathroom. “Just because I let you eat me out, you think that means I’m just gonna put your filthy fucking dick in my mouth?” you scoff. Casually swinging a leg, the tip of your boot meets Matty’s clothed cock, not quite a kick, but not much of anything else either. A helpless little moan tumbles from his lips and you laugh condescendingly, tilting his chin up so he’s looking in your eyes.

He grinds down against your boot, power thrumming heady in your veins. “Baby, please,” he whimpers, the sound dizzying and gratifying. 

“Pathetic,” you say, low and sweet. “Getting off on my shoe like a fuckin’ animal. Bet you’d let me do whatever I wanted, huh?” He nods frantically, desperate to please, his jaw coming compliantly open when you pull down. A thrill steals up your spine as a wad of spit lands on his tongue, chased by a bolt of desire when he swallows obediently. “Don’t come back out until you can fucking control yourself.”

You dress yourself, Matty still panting at your feet, his chin slick with your arousal, and slip back out of the bathroom. Like you’d predicted, your friends are too hammered to question your absence much, accepting your excuse of having gone for a smoke without question. The four of you laugh and sing and dance the rest of the night, Grace slipping away with Ross at a tasteful two a.m., you and Sabrina exchanging a knowing look at her lack of subtlety. At some point, Matty had joined you again, throwing you looks so venomous you’re a little scared.

Just as you’re calling it a night, you scrawl your number on a damp napkin and shove it into his pocket. “In case you’re ever after a rematch,” you say, low enough not to be overheard, and his answering smirk is wicked.

Sabrina sighs dramatically at his retreating back. “Hate to see ‘em go, love to watch ‘em leave.” You snort, shoving her playfully. “Alright, pay up. What did I say? Alone, or with you.”

Groaning, you dig in your wallet and slap a ten-pound note in her outstretched palm. “Alice, have I ever told you you’re my favourite?” Giggling, the three of you stumble out to the taxi rank, the sting of your loss almost forgotten against the heat still tingling between your thighs.

Matty doesn’t text you until the next evening, and you’ll take the grin that split your face at the sight of his message to your grave.

So about that rematch?

Don’t beg it’s pathetic

Had enough of that last night

You know where to find me when you’re ready to put up a real fight

You don’t hear from him for a little while after that, but something tells you the pair of you aren’t done yet. Or maybe that’s just his voice in your head while you bury your hand between your thighs.

Sabrina throws a house party for her twenty-first, because she’s still barred from every good club within ten miles for underage drinking. You’re a little tipsy, a little high, singing along to the CD spinning in the player and sipping a cocktail while you wait for everyone to arrive. The house is a sweaty, heaving mass of bodies by eleven, screaming drunk as you stumble onto the patio. You’re alone except for one other boy with his back to you, his silhouette blurred in the dark as you fish for your cigarettes, alcohol making your body uncoordinated and slow to obey direction.

Sliding one between your lips, you call out, “Have you got a light?” The boy turns, and your heart skips a painfully embarrassing beat. Matty smirks back at you, annoyingly gorgeous with a cigarette dangling from his lips, clad in a floral shirt and a worn leather jacket.

“Long time no see, darling,” he grins. “Was wonderin’ if I’d run into you.” It’s a fight to rein in your thoughts, running wild as want licks up your spine. It’s fucking Pavlovian, you tell yourself, getting off to the thought of him setting off some instinctual reaction to his presence.

“Been thinking about me a lot?” you tease, privately curious as to the answer.

He steps closer, and you try not to flinch. “Oh, I’ve been pulling the absolute cock off myself thinking about how you kicked me in the dick and left me on the fucking ground. Kind of scenario wet dreams are made of,” he snaps.

You laugh like he’s recalling a fond memory to hide the flush creeping up your cheeks at the image of him touching himself. “Oh, don’t be a baby. Shouldn’t have made it so satisfying to kick you in the dick, then.”

Matty flashes his teeth. “You were plenty satisfied already, if memory serves. Jesus fuck, I’m cumming, oh, God, Matty, fuck,” he taunts, putting on a high, breathy affect of your voice, taking another predatory step towards you. He breathes smoke out over your face, the grey cloud curling in front of your eyes, blurring the planes of his face and casting him in a hazy glow.

“You’re making me want to kick you in the dick again,” you threaten, but it lacks any edge, all the fight draining out of you as Matty lifts your hand to slip your forgotten cig between your lips. The touch sparks under your skin, stacked kindling waiting to catch alight, burn you up in the blaze.

“Breathe in,” Matty says quietly, leaning in to press the end of his cigarette against yours, the flame passing between you in a shared breath, smoke burning in your lungs as you draw the moment as long as possible, pulling it like elastic between your hands.

You blow out your smoke, twin exhales staining the air between you. “Kiss me,” you murmur, a breathy plea delivered from chapped lips, blackened lungs, through cold air into unreadable honey-brown eyes.

Matty takes a deep drag on his cigarette and flicks it away, taking your jaw in both hands while the smoke sits in his mouth. You try not to envy that it curls on his tongue, your lips parting instinctively for him as it pours from his mouth into yours. Your inhale is quick, perfunctory, an aside to what comes after you blow it out. His lips are soft, your bite mark healed now, moving against yours with what you could almost mistake as tenderness. His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing gently and pulling you flush against him.

When he slides his tongue into your mouth, you can’t help your relieved little moan, something cool and sharp and dangerous lodging itself in your ribcage. “Oh,” he says, delighted. “Missed me, have you?”

“If I say yes, will you fucking touch me?” you snap.

“So needy,” he croons, fingers skirting just below the hem of your skirt. “Wanna stay out here where anyone could see how needy you are for me?”

You stamp on his foot childishly. “If anyone ever finds out I let you touch me, I’ll kill you,” you say, the threat familiar on your tongue, a fraction of your control reigned back in.

Matty laughs. “You’d miss me too much.” You scoff. “Alright, let’s find somewhere to keep this secret, then.”

You practically drag him to Sabrina’s bedroom, and he raises an eyebrow. “If I tried shagging in one of my boys’ rooms, I wouldn’t live long enough for you to kill me,” he remarks.

“Oh, please. You think you’re the first guy I’ve ever fucked in here?” You don’t miss the way his grip tightens around your wrist, stiffening slightly. You don’t want to examine what that means.

He sits on the edge of her bed, legs spread and face expectant. “Your turn, love. On your knees, yeah?” You pause, and he laughs darkly. “Oh, you thought you were gonna get fucked?” he taunts, the words a mocking echo of your own, and you feel them like ice thawing in your spine. “Love, the first time I fuck you isn’t going to be in someone else’s bed at a house party. I wanna take my time with you, tear you to fucking pieces.” Your cunt pulses desperately, forcing you into obeisance even as you wear your disgust plainly on your face. “Oh, you want it bad, huh?” Matty murmurs, low and cruel as you unbuckle his belt and pull his cock free from his jeans. “Fuckin’ gagging for it, aren’t you? Go on, darling, get me hard.”

Your jaw falls open, saliva dripping from your tongue and trailing down his cock. You wrap a hand around him, his hips jolting at the contact. Pumping him slowly, his cock fills in your palm, precum sticky on your fingers when you dig your nail into his slit. You lean down, kitten-licking over the head, and he bucks his hips up with a gasp. “Someone’s eager,” you smirk, pushing his hips down with a smirk.

“Shut up before I shut you up,” he says, darkly threatening in a way that makes you believe him, arousal pooling between your legs.

Matty gathers your hair into a crude ponytail in one fist and you look up at him through your lashes. “If you push my head down, I’m biting your dick off,” you warn, lowering your head and wrapping your lips around his tip.

He moans, fighting not to thrust into the warmth of your mouth as your lips creep down his cock. “That’s it, baby. Go on, take it all. Take this filthy fucking dick. Good girl,” Matty croons, moaning as his cock bumps the back of your throat and you swallow a gag. You bob your head, inhaling deeply through your nose and trying to take all of him. Your nose meets his skin and you grin victoriously around his cock, sugary praise falling from his lips and his eyes fixed on you. “Look so pretty on your knees, baby. If you keep being good, I’ll let you swallow my cum,” he adds, and a bolt of lust strikes your core, tinged acrid with shame at letting him hold power over you.

You jam a hand between your legs, rutting wantonly against it, the friction hot as your clit grinds against the seam of your jeans through your panties. A moan spills out around Matty’s cock, the salt of him filling your mouth as he bucks his hips a little. Pulling up, you swallow around him, spit leaking from the corners of your mouth. Matty moans your name, the sound so sweet in your ears that you want to press it into a vinyl, layer it in the back of a song you can listen to over and over. A string of spit connects your skin as you pull away from him, sitting back on your knees to look in his eyes. “I changed my mind,” you say, the words spilling out before you can stop them, an unbidden admission from a hazy head and swollen lips. “Fuck my mouth.”

Groaning, Matty lets go of your hair and brushes it out of your face when it falls. “Fuck, love, are you sure?”

You smirk up at him, holding his gaze in challenge. “C’mon, Healy, you know you want to. Fucking ruin me, wreck my voice, make me cry,” you say. It’s a demand, not a plea, and he knows it. Knows that he’ll be giving you what you want, conceding territory in your battle, letting you knock a piece off the chessboard. But he wants. His hand tangles in your hair, his eyes closing as he moves like he doesn’t want to see himself capitulate. The sting in your scalp feels like victory, the ache in your jaw a triumph. Matty fucks your mouth with abandon, dragging your head and thrusting up to meet the back of your throat, moaning as you gag around him.

You’re helpless, your panties soaked with arousal and your cunt clenching around nothing. Pure, unadulterated need rises in you, needy whines slipping out around his cock while he fucks your face like a toy. “You getting off on being used like this?” he taunts, eyes lidded and face flushed. “Little slut. Not so fuckin’ mouthy now, huh? Such a fuckin’ bitch until you’re on your knees gaggin’ on my cock.” Lewd, wet sounds fill the room, his words pushing you to the precipice of submission threatening to overwhelm. You grind pathetically against your palm, desperate for more than the feeble embers flickering in your belly. “You wanna cum, darling?” he murmurs, lifting you off him, your breaths coming hard and heavy and impossibly loud in the sudden quiet.

“Please,” you whine, past the point of caring for your fractured dignity. “M’so wet, Matty, I need it so bad.”

“I shouldn’t let you,” he says musingly. “Not after what you pulled last time.” He grins, knocking your knees apart with one booted foot. “But I’m a gentleman. These, off,” he orders, kicking at your thigh to indicate your jeans. You scramble awkwardly out of them, kicking them into a pile of Sabrina’s clothes that you’re definitely going to pick up a new shirt from later. Matty presses his boot between your thigh, the pressure on your clit so glorious you swear you almost cum, a wave of pleasure knocking the breath from your lungs. “Go on, baby. Get off on my shoe like a fuckin’ animal,” he growls, your stolen words hitting you like a shock of ice water.

You hate yourself just a little as your hips roll, taking his cock in your mouth and moaning as he takes up his punishing rhythm. The lace of your panties is rough and scraping over your clit, pain and pleasure mingling in your belly and dripping on Matty’s shoe. Tension winds tight in your belly, a fist clenched so tight it almost breaks skin. Matty fucks your mouth messy and frenzied, his hand tight in your hair and your name sticking to his lips. It sounds like a curse, or maybe a prayer — is there a difference, if God doesn’t exist?

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum, darling, don’t stop,” Matty groans, head thrown back in rapture. You pull out every trick, swallowing and humming around him, swirling your tongue across his skin until he’s spilling in your mouth with a broken groan. “Fuck, yes, good girl, take it all,” he says. “My little cumdump,” he adds, the words striking at your core, pouring liquid heat directly over your nerves, achingly hot.

You pull off his cock with an obscene pop, opening your mouth to show off your painted-white tongue. A string of cum drips from your mouth, landing over his wet cock. You lap it up eagerly, Matty hissing at the contact to his sensitive skin. Your hips grind faster, cunt throbbing with need. With your mouth now freed, you whine out filthy pleas, tasting burning shame in the back of your throat. “Matty, please, I can’t—” you whimper, cut off when he grips your chin and forces your jaw shut, smirking meanly.

“You can, and you will. M’not gonna help you, baby. Can get off on my boot or not at all.” His cool, impassive tone is belayed by his flushed face, lips parted and eyes wide as he watches you grind pathetically against him. Pleasure coils under your skin, tangling with the burn of humiliation, your head thrown back and incoherent whines falling from your lips. “Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ wet dream,” Matty moans out, dragging you by the hair so your gaze falls back on him. “Pretty girl. Can’t wait to make you fall apart on my cock, shit.”

Your cunt throbs near-painfully, molten ecstasy turning your organs to liquid, your climax sweet and hot on the tip of your tongue. “M’so close,” you whimper, pleading little gasps stumbling from your lips. You grind your clit harshly against the tough leather of Matty’s shoe, fucking debasing yourself as you chase your orgasm. Digging your nails into his calf, you moan helplessly, gripping him like a lifeline as your head starts to float clear of your body. His eyes glitter triumphantly, holding all the power while reducing you to a pathetic, pleading mess grinding against his shoe.

Ecstasy swirls in your belly, dizzying. It’s thick in your lungs, stoppering your thoughts until all you know is Matty’s cruel little smirk, his lust-blown eyes, his shoe pressed against your cunt. Your final, last-ditch act of rebellion comes when the thread tethering you to your sanity finally snaps. You might have sunk low, lower than you ever thought you could, but you will not plead to cum on his shoe. That final thought circles as pleasure knocks you breathless, a keening wail ripping from your throat as your cunt pulses. Matty’s hand tightens in your hair as you cum, aching bliss coursing through your bloodstream. “Fuck,” you mumble, your legs weak as you crumple to the floor.

“That feel good?” Matty asks, flashing teeth.

“Fuck you,” you snap, painfully conscious of how little effect your words have when you’re on the floor below him, your cunt still pulsing with aftershocks.

“I will,” he says sweetly, and you groan.

Trying not to stagger, you get to your feet. “This,” you gesture in the air between you. “Means nothing, alright? As far as everyone we know is concerned, we can’t stand each other. In fact, I can’t stand you.”

“S’that why you got on your knees so fast?” Matty smirks, still leaning insouciantly on Sabrina’s bed. You scoff, disgusted with yourself, and turn to leave. “Might wanna clean yourself up, love,” he calls as you shove the door open. “You look like you just sucked a dick.”

You don’t realise that leaving was a concession until the door clicks shut and you catch his smirk before he disappears from view. Slipping into the miraculously empty bathroom, you realise he’s right; you do look like you’ve just sucked a dick. Your hair is wild, raked through and tangled, mascara running down your face and your lipstick smeared over your chin. The matching ring that must sit around the base of Matty’s cock makes you smirk to yourself, a tangible reminder of the encounter that he’ll have to work to remove.

You manage to tame your appearance and wander back downstairs, finding Sabrina and Alice deep in conversation with Matty and George. “There you are!” Sabrina gasps, loud enough to be heard over the screaming music and loud background chatter. “Thought you’d fucked off home. Was just telling the boys about our gig,” she grins. Oh, right. Your actual fucking gig, where you have to play your songs to a crowd of fans there for somebody else, and somehow hold their attention for an entire set. And you’d just stopped feeling fucking nauseous about it.

“Love, why didn’t you tell me?” Matty says, mocking in a way that only you can sense, prodding at a wound only he can see.

“Oh, please.” You pour yourself a strong drink and take a long sip before you continue. “I’d rather not spew over the front row seeing your ugly fucking mug in the crowd.” George snorts and Sabrina swats your arm.

“Don’t be a cowbag, it’s my birthday,” she scolds, eyes lighting up as they land on an undrunk bottle of tequila. “I know how to loosen you up a bit,” she grins, brandishing the bottle and digging in the fridge for a net bag of limes. “Body shots!” She spins around, wiggling her eyebrows, and you tip your head back with a groan.

She grabs a knife from the kitchen drawer and wobbles over to the counter to start chopping the limes, forcing you to your feet before she lands herself in A&E. “Calm down there, Ghostface,” you laugh, grabbing the knife before she can do any damage. Slicing the limes into neat wedges with bartender-practised ease, you grin at Sabrina and clamp a slice between your teeth. She brushes salt across the top of your tit, her tongue hot over your skin when she licks it up. The shot glass slams on the counter before you even register that she’s picked it up, her lips ghosting against yours as she bites into the flesh of the fruit, the juice spilling across your mouths.

You spit the rind to the floor and cup her jaw, melting into a passionate kiss like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Licking the taste of lime out of her mouth, one of your hands threads in her hair, and Ross whistles. “Fucking hell, are we interrupting something?”

Sabrina snorts. “If that’s got you blushing, the things we’ve done to each other would make your head spin, pretty boy.”

You risk a glance at Matty, rooted to the spot with eyes as wide as saucers, like he can’t believe what he just saw. Interesting. “Who’s next?” you crow, delivering the words as a deliberate taunt to him. “I’ll even take my top off, give you some more space to work with,” you grin, peeling off your top and gratuitously squeezing a tit. 

“Do we get a snog, too?” George smirks, getting to his feet.

Sweeping your hair off your neck, you tilt your head and smile tantalisingly. “Only if you’re good.” Matty’s jaw clenches. Very interesting. Salt scrapes over your skin as George licks you clean, something molten and dangerous pooling in your core at Matty’s intense eye contact. George bites the lime out of your mouth and spits it to the floor, his lips finding yours waiting.

He’s a good kisser, his mouth sure and firm against yours, tongue brushing against your lips as he cups your jaw. Parting your lips for him, the sharp taste of lime lands on your tongue once again, George tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling slightly when he pulls away. Matty looks at you like you’re a future regret, like the narrative is written and he’s only stepping into his role when he comes towards you.

Ever overdramatic and impaired by liquor, you drape yourself over the table, lifting your head to grin up at him. Matty reaches for a shot glass, and you chide him, meeting his gaze in challenge. “C’mon, it’s called a body shot, after all,” you goad, and he swallows, gripping the neck of the tequila like a lifeline.

“You’re insane,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. The liquor is cold as he pours it into your belly button, splashing from his trembling hands. The muscles of your stomach twitch, contradictory heat pooling in your core as anticipation creeps under your skin. Salt pours between the valley of your tits, Matty cleaning it off eagerly as you fight not to squirm. You swallow a gasp as Matty sucks and licks the alcohol from your body, the feeling of his tongue swirling gratuitously against you falling straight to your cunt.

With a grimace, Matty straightens, leaning down to grip the lime between his teeth, sharp tartness soaking your bruised lips once again. You savour the sting, Matty’s eyes wide with desire as he leans in. The kiss is messy, all top lip and tongue as you lick the tequila out of his mouth, slowly sitting up and slinging your arms around his neck.

One of his hands tangles in your hair, the rest of the world melting away the longer you lose yourself in his kiss, reality tunnelling down to Matty’s skin on yours. He exhales regret against your lips, pulling away slowly and thumbing over your swollen lip. Fuck, that stings. Matty smirks like he can read your thoughts, like your pain is sweet on his lips.

“Jesus, get a room!” Sabrina scoffs, chucking a lime at your head that you don’t have the facilities to dodge. Matty goes red, wrenching his gaze away from you and fumbling for a cigarette before stumbling out of the room. Sabrina squints at the space he vacated. “Like, will the two of you just fuck already? Instead of subjecting us to whatever that was?”

You glare, folding your arms and screwing up your face as if you can’t think of anything worse. “Don’t be gross.”

Sabrina gets up, turning to face the room at large. “Right, show of hands. Who thinks she just needs to fuck Matty and get it over with.” Six hands go up, and you scowl. Okay, maybe you do want to fuck him, but does everybody need to know about it?

“Please,” groans George. “He’s insufferable when he gets like this about a girl.” He puts on a high effect of Matty’s voice, and you snort. “‘Oh, do you think she’s gonna be there? Will she like this shirt? Does my hair look pretty?’” You roll your eyes, praying the heat in your cheeks is indistinguishable from the flush of the alcohol.

“Ugh,” you say, forcing a shudder. “Get me checked for a brain tumour if I ever fall for that.” You grab the discarded bottle. “Anyway, I’m done being a shot glass. Someone else’s turn.”

Your head spins as you take shot after shot, licking salt from Sabrina’s neck, Ross’ chest, George’s belly. The passage of time slips from your grasp, and before you know it, the party’s mostly over. The last few stragglers are drifting out, Sabrina nowhere to be seen, having slipped upstairs with a girl you vaguely recognise from high school about half an hour ago. Probably shouldn’t tell her that she’s not gonna be the first (or even second) person to get off in her room tonight.

You end up crashing out on the couch, stripping out of your tight jeans and leaving them crumpled next to you — your shirt is long gone. Not a big deal, you can nab one of Sabrina’s in the morning. By some miracle, your headache in the morning is only mild, easily quelled with a glass of water and some painkillers. The house is still, the previous night lingering in sticky floors and plastic cups littering every surface.

One of Sabrina’s guitars is propped against the wall, and picking it up unlocks a vague memory of picking the beginnings of your first song on it, before you had one of your own. You smile fondly, lifting it into your lap and kicking one leg over the arm of the sofa. Your fingers move instinctively, coaxing out the melody you’ve been working on, repeating it over and over and groaning when the next notes just won’t come.

“You’re really good.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re still here?”

Matty shrugs, sloping into the chair next to you, seemingly indifferent to your matching states of undress. “Hann was designated driver, and he fucked off somewhere between the body shots and the karaoke,” he snorts. “Brina said I could stay.”

“Don’t call her Brina,” you snap. “You’re lucky she’s so nice. If it was up to me, you’d be in a ditch somewhere right now. Or flattened on the motorway. Wouldn’t that be nice…” you say, wistful as if you’re daydreaming about his viscera splattered across tarmac.

“You’re such a bitch.” It’s a compliment, you can tell, despite his derisive expression.

Not dignifying him with a response, your fingers creep across the strings, plucking out a familiar riff that you can’t quite place. Matty’s smug little grin flashes you back to the day you met, and you realise with disgust that you’re playing the first four notes of Robbers over and over. Your scowl silences the taunt on Matty’s lips. “Shut the fuck up and stop looking at me like that before I make you.”

Matty shudders, shifting in his chair. “You’re so mean. Who hurt you?”

“This conversation is hurting me. Talking to you feels like voluntarily hitting my own head with a brick.” Matty just smirks at you, conspicuously dropping his hands into his lap. “Oh, my god. Is this getting you hard?” you scoff.

An infuriating smirk creeps across Matty’s face “I can’t help it,” he says. “You’re hot when you’re mad at me.”

“I’m always fuckin’ mad at you.”

“Exactly.” His grin is filthy, legs spread wide as your eyes trail down to where his cock is straining against his boxers.

Still plucking idly at the guitar, you speak without looking at him. “Touch yourself for me,” you say, snorting as Matty chokes on his inhale.

He makes a spluttering little sound, and you don’t look up from the guitar in your lap. “Are you being serious? Here? Now?”

You shrug. “You don’t have to. But don’t pretend you don’t want to. Go on, give me a show. S’just about the only thing you’re good for.”

Matty moans, the resolve in his face visibly crumbling as you lift your gaze to meet his. His cock is flushed and dripping as he frees it from his boxers, throwing his head back with a groan. Heat creeps across your cheeks, the display of him obscene. Arousal clenches in your belly as your name spills involuntarily from his lips, cock disappearing into his fist as he strokes himself.

“Yeah, that’s it. Just like that,” you murmur, breathing slow and deep to keep yourself controlled. Matty’s moans are sweet and syrupy in your ear, low and melodic against your skin. Almost without your knowledge, your fingers dance across the guitar strings, pulling the next notes of your broken melody free instinctively as you watch him. “So pretty like this, baby. Know you can be louder than that. Let me hear you, yeah?”

Slick sounds fill the room, tangling with his moans flowing freely from his lips. Your cunt is dripping in your panties, pleading for attention as Matty fucks his fist, the guitar finally abandoned in your lap. Your hips shift needily against the sofa, the tiniest pulse of pleasure humming through you. “Come here,” he groans, the dominance in his tone sudden and intense.

“What did you just say?” you say, tone carrying a low threat that you don’t even think he notices.

“Can’t make a mess, can I? C’mere, come finish me off. Can see how fuckin’ needy you are from here, love.”

Carefully sliding the guitar off your lap, you stand so you’re towering over him. He gazes openly at your tits, cupped together in your bra, breath hot against your skin. “Who,” you say, voice gentle but full of steel, sliding a hand into his curls. “Do you think you’re talking to?” you demand, fisting your hand and dragging Matty’s eyes up to meet yours, his little pained whimper falling straight to your cunt. “You fucking piece of shit,” you scoff, lowering yourself into his lap. “Get your hands off.” He obeys with a whimper, and you laugh scornfully. God, he’s too fucking easy. “You fucking disgust me,” you murmur against his lips, low and reverent like you’re pouring praise against his mouth. “Who the fuck do you think you are, talkin’ to me like that?”

You tuck him back into his boxers, rolling your hips down and tipping your head back as pleasure runs through you. “M’sorry,I—” You press two fingers against his lips to silence him.

“Gonna let you get off like this. That way you’re only making a mess of yourself, yeah? Say thank you, baby.” Matty ruts his hips up against yours, hungry lips meeting your neck and greedy hands tangling in your hair.

“Th-thank you,” he stammers, breath shaky against your neck. Want pulses sickly in your belly, rising into your chest and squeezing hard as Matty bucks his hips. It doesn’t take long until your name pours free from his lips, tangled in moans and expletives, and he goes limp under you.

Despite your desperate cunt screaming out in protest, you climb off his lap and smile patronisingly down at him. “Fucking filthy,” you say, staring down at his soaked boxers and committing the sight of him to memory, chest flushed and heaving. “You can get dressed and get the fuck out, now. Hope nobody points out the cum stain.”

Matty gives you a look that’s pure loathing, tinged with needy lust, and you jerk your head at him as if to say go on. “Just you wait,” he mutters darkly. “Just you fucking wait. I’ll fucking wreck you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

You don’t see Matty face-to-face for a little while after that, but that doesn’t mean he stops plaguing you. A concerning number of your nights are spent with your phone on your pillow, listening to him moan in your ear as you fuck yourself on your fingers. You have to bite down on his name when you’re fucking other guys, the word bitter as you swallow it back down, longing to spill free. It only makes you hate him more.

You hadn’t thought he’d actually come see you play, but George and Ross’ silhouettes are unmistakeable in the crowd of fans screaming for the band you’re opening for. As is the head of dark curls next to them. Your heart catches in your throat, bleeding over your tongue as you step up to the mic stand. The lights shine into your eyes, adrenaline pumping and nerves jangling. You introduce yourself, introduce the band, the few scattered whoops not even making a dent against the unimpressed faces of the front row. George shoots you an encouraging grin, clapping over his head to make sure you see, and it soothes you a little; enough that your body loosens and you can coax your fingers into strumming on your guitar.

By the third song, you’ve relaxed into it, instinctive. Your hair is plastered to your forehead, jewellery tangled around your neck, sweating into your shirt. The crowd has warmed up a little, nodding their heads and swaying, even a few people singing your choruses back at you. You feel electric, a current zapping through you and echoing out of the speakers. Matty is transfixed, you can just about see — his gaze hasn’t left you for more than two seconds at a time since your set started. His thoughts are so plain on his face that you can practically hear them, filth pouring from him and pooling around you, warming your core and… Jesus. Focus.

Mentally dousing yourself in ice water, you lean close to the mic and catch Matty’s eyes. “This next song… I feel like it’s a story every girl knows. You’re at a bar, you’ve had a few drinks, and you’re lookin’ for a bit of fun, right? And you meet a boy and you think he could be the one, at least for tonight. Then he opens his mouth,” you pause as everyone laughs. “And he just won’t. Stop. Talking!” You launch into the song, unable to keep the grin off your face as Matty recognises the melody, the one you played while you watched him get himself off. The memory heats you from the inside out, identical film reels flickering in both your and Matty’s heads as your insides burn with desire.

Apparently, the song resonates with more than a few, the crowd and the cheers wilder with every song now you’ve finally attracted their attention. Disappointment twinges in your gut as you realise you’re onto the last song. “You guys have been fucking phenomenal tonight. You looking forward to the main event?” Obviously, the crowd cheers louder than they have for you all night. You try not to take it to heart, though. “Thank you guys so much for having us, seriously. You up for one more song? Yeah? Let’s fuckin’ go!” Adrenaline rushing to your head and inflating your ego, you grip the hem of your shirt and tug it up to your neck, soaking in the cheer that goes up as you show off your bare tits.

There’s only one reaction you care about, though, Matty’s jaw going slack and his gaze hot and heavy against your skin. The room melts away, the tension stringing between you a living thing that roots you to the spot. The fuse is lit and you know it, can’t stamp it out. All that’s left is to find out which of you ignites first.

You slip into the back of the crowd just before the main act starts, and immediately get suckered into a sweaty, congratulatory group hug from the boys. You don’t even push Matty off when he smacks a kiss at your temple, his low good fucking girl murmured in your ear making you shudder.

The band you opened for are a little stuck-up, but nice enough, so you take them up on their offer to celebrate after. Their frontman’s grin when he tells you to bring some friends, if you like tells you that he’s going to be very fucking disappointed, though, when the friends you bring are four blokes from a well-known local band instead of the girls he’s clearly imagining. His face falls when he sees them, pushing off to chat up a group of girls hovering around the bar.

Which leaves the eight of you in the now-familiar position of being crammed into a too-small booth, with you once again half on Matty’s lap. “Can’t believe you wrote a song about me. You’re too sweet, darling, you shouldn’t have.” he remarks, and you swing your heel back and laugh at his hiss when it connects with his shin.

“Oh, please. You think you’re the first good-looking asshole I’ve ever met in a bar? Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You think I'm good-looking?” He’s wearing a shit-eating grin, too comfortable pushing your buttons in public. You need to grind him beneath your heel, put him back in his fucking place.

You drop your hand under the table, tracing circles in his thigh and feeling the muscles tense under your touch. “And he’s got selective hearing, too. Who's surprised?”

His hips shift needily against your hand, squirming as he tries to force you into giving him what he wants. “Oh, come on, darling. We both know this only ends one way.” He’s full of shit, false bravado layered deliberately in his voice that you can see through like he’s wrapped in cellophane. 

“In your dreams,” you bite out, pressing your hand against his cock in the same moment, kneading softly and watching blood rush into his cheeks as he swallows down a moan.

“Oh, every night, darling.”

Sabrina gags, breaking the two of you out of the bubble you’d been in, the hazy edges of your reality suddenly back in sharp focus. “Can you two stop being gross for two fucking seconds, please? For all our sakes?”

Rolling your eyes, you set your drink down on the table, dangerously close to the edge. “Oh, it’s my fault he’s fucking obsessed with me?” you scoff. “Read my fucking lips, Healy. Never. Gonna. Happen.”

You focus back into the conversation, relishing in the way Matty’s responses fall shorter and shorter as you tease, his voice going weak and breathy with barely-concealed need. With your free hand, you pull your phone out to type him a text.

i was fucking incredible on that stage today

hope youre ready for a long fucking night

not gonna stop unless you beg me.

Matty’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly as his gaze flickers across the screen, staring resolutely forward even as his hips shift and his cock fills under your palm. You slide your other hand under Matty’s jeans and boxers a moment later, his cock twitching needily in your palm. His knee jolts at the feeling of your hand against his bare skin, sending your full glass toppling over him, covering him in a sticky combination of soda and alcohol.

Withdrawing your hand, you gasp, turning and pretending to fuss over him. “Fuck’s sake, Matty, you- Oh, my God!” You give a spluttering laugh. Matty’s eyes go wide with fear, pleading with you as he correctly predicts your next words. “Do you have a boner?” you demand incredulously, pulling away from him in fake disgust. The table erupts into laughter, Matty’s face fire-engine red as his hands fall to his lap in a desperate attempt to preserve what’s left of his dignity. Oh, God, he looks so fucking good embarrassed like this, and it makes you squirm a little in your seat to know the humiliation is just turning him on more.

“He totally fucking does!” crows Sabrina, cackling and craning her neck for a better look.

“What’s got you all worked up, mate?” George taunts. “Been so long since you got your dick wet that you’re popping one from being next to a hot girl?”

“No,” Matty snaps. “I mean– I get my dick wet plenty, thank you very much. And I don’t have a boner,” he adds, attempting to push past you and escape. “I just— not feelin’ well. I should go.”

You elbow him harshly, and he winces, biting his tongue around a whine. “Aw, George, you think I’m– give me a second, sex pest, I’m having a conversation– you think I’m hot?”

He grins. “I think you’re a knockout, love. Hey, are you free tonight?”

You snort. “Not for you,” you shoot back, George holding his hand to his chest, mock-affronted. You finally take pity on Matty and let him out of the booth, surreptitiously sliding your hand into his pocket and dropping your spare key. Dramatic? Yes. A bit much? Maybe. But you’ve never claimed to be anything less. “I know it’s gonna be tough, but try not to stick your dick in anything that’ll cause permanent damage on the way home!” you can’t resist shouting at his retreating back. When he’s gone, you pull out your phone to text him your address.

go and wait for me, sit on your hands if you have to, but do not fucking touch yourself

if you’re good, i *might* let you cum tonight

do u want me to break in or something

check ur pocket

you’re insane

ill be home in an hour

can u behave until then?

He doesn’t answer, and you’re looking forward to finding out what that means. You stay for another two rounds, anticipation thrilling in your belly at the prospect of what (or rather, who) is waiting for you at home. Walking into your bedroom, you find Matty face-down on your bed and grinding desperately against your sheets, still fully-clothed as needy little whines slip from his lips. “God, you are just fucking pathetic, huh?” you murmur, your thighs clenching at the pretty picture he makes.

Matty gasps. “M’not touchin’, m’not touchin’,” he promises frantically, and you click your tongue.

“I know, baby. But that doesn’t look much like sitting on your hands, either,” you murmur, peeling out of your shirt and kicking off your jeans. “Couldn’t even be a good boy for me for an hour? Worthless little slut,” you scoff, and he whimpers in response. “Least you kept that pretty dick hard for me. Does that feel good? Grinding on my sheets like a little fucking whore?”

He whimpers, still face-down but not moving, like he won’t be able to control himself if he lays eyes on you. “Yes. M’sorry, feels good. Not as good as you. Didn’t mean to be bad, m’sorry,” he babbles, his desperation obvious.

“Look at me, baby, eyes on me,” you order. Matty obeys instantly, a punched-out groan slipping from his lips as he takes in the sight of you, his eyes glued to the silver barbells glinting teasingly in your nipples. You snap the waistband of your panties against your waist, the action beckoning his gaze down your body. “D'you think I look pretty?” He nods furiously, but you cut him off before he can start lavishing you with praise, rolling your eyes condescendingly. “Didn’t wear it for you, before you start. Thought maybe I’d finally find some hot guy to take me home and fuck me like I deserve,” you hiss, climbing onto the bed next to him. Taking his jaw in your hand, you brush his curls out of his face. Matty shudders under your touch, pliant and needy as he melts into your palms. “Do you think you can fuck me like I deserve, Matty?”

His pride wars openly with desire in his face, eyes glassy as his tongue flickers out to wet his lips. “No,” he says finally, the admission ghosting feebly against your lips. He succumbs so sweetly that you press your lips against his, licking the taste of sugary surrender from his mouth.

“That’s what I thought. I could be getting fucked right now, you know. Could’ve had any man I wanted. But no. I get your whining, pathetic ass in my bed instead, fuckin’ rubbing yourself off on my sheets like a disgusting animal. S’bad enough that you’re making me do all the fucking work, least you could do is behave,” you snap, and Matty squirms, your cruel words rooting in his brain, digging claws tearing his every coherent thought to shreds.

“Can make you feel good, promise,” he whimpers. “Let me make you feel good, let me make it up to you, please,” Matty begs, reaching out to tug at the elastic of your waistband.

You slap his hand away, and he whines. “Behave. So greedy,”  you chide. “Did I say you could touch me?”

“N-no.”

“Do you think you deserve to touch me?”

“I— no.” You grin, wide and predatory, and tug his shirt off over his head, running your hand down his slim, toned chest. Unbuckling his belt, you help him out of his jeans, the sticky, wet spot near the waistband of his boxers evident and growing.

You thumb over it gently, pressing the digit into Matty’s mouth as he moans and accepts it eagerly, swirling his tongue pornographically. “So fucking wet,” you murmur. “Needy little whore soaking his pants for me,” you tease. “Come here,” you order, sliding your panties down your legs, cool air kissing at your wet cunt. Matty scrambles to obey, laying between your legs and gazing up at you adoringly, seemingly unsure where to look as his eyes dart between your face, your nipple piercings catching the light, and your glistening cunt inches from his lips. “Go on. Beg for it. Beg for the privilege of touching me, of tasting me, of making me cum.”

“Fuck- fuck. Please let me get you off, sweetheart. Let me taste your pretty pussy, let me make you feel good, make you forget everything. Please just fuckin’ use me, I want— mmph!” You cut him off, pulling his face into your cunt by his hair, his pained little whimper spiralling deliciously through your body.

“Forgot how fucking annoying the sound of your voice is,” you groan, rolling your hips up against Matty’s face as he licks at your cunt like melting ice cream. “Put that mouth of yours to better use, hm?” You take his wrist in a punishing grip as he attempts to slide it up your thigh. “God, it’s like you don’t even want to cum. I never said you could touch me. Can make me cum with just your mouth or you can get up and walk out of here with nothing but that little problem between your legs, okay?”

Matty mumbles something that sounds vaguely agreeing into your cunt, pleasure coiling in your veins as Matty makes out with your hole sloppily. “Thank you s’much for lettin’ me… taste so fucking good, baby,” he moans, whining pitifully when you tug harshly on his curls.

“Don’t talk.” Your grip in his hair is punishing as he whimpers into your cunt, sucking and licking like a man starved. “God, such a fuckin’ slut, baby. You like it when I hurt you, hm?” His muffled moan of yes, fuckin’ love it vibrates through you, shivering pleasure ricocheting through every corner of your body. Matty sucks greedily on your clit, your hips bucking and legs kicking in the air.

It would be a lie to say knowing he’s getting off on the degradation doesn’t turn you on beyond belief. Your cunt pulses against his mouth, his tongue starving and wild over your clit. Matty tongue-fucks you, ravenous, his moans vibrating through your body deliciously. “Fuck,” you moan out, pulling hard on his curls to grind his face harder into your cunt. Heat thrums under your skin, biting your lip so hard you taste blood to swallow your moans. You must be suffocating him, his tongue buried deep in your cunt, but he just keeps going. A moan tears free, low and shameful, and he redoubles his efforts, swirling his tongue over your clit. You’re writhing under his attentions, dripping in his mouth as he starts tongue-fucking you at a dizzying pace. Tension pulls tight in your belly, close and electric under your skin as you clench around his tongue, Matty’s name spilling free from your mouth in a crazed entreaty, tugging on his hair just to feel his answering moan spiral through you. 

His teeth scrape over your clit, the flash of pain finally tearing you loose from your body, ecstasy cascading over you as your cunt pulses against Matty’s mouth. He laps at your dripping cunt, bliss flooding against his tongue as your body wracks with sensation. “That’s right,” you groan, desire pulsing through you, leaking into the corners of your body with every thud of your wild, insistent heartbeat. “Fuckin’ swallow my cum. All of it. Yeah, just like that. Good boy.” The words only spur him on, cleaning you up with helpless enthusiasm, essentially locking himself into an impossible task. Every swipe of his tongue only serves to make you wetter, his moans stirring arousal that pools in his mouth. You pull him off you by his hair, tugging him up to meet you.

Matty grins, already hazy and fucked-out, his lips and chin soaking wet. You commit the sight to memory for a second, bruised lips and lidded eyes, your own personal, yielding little doll. “Thank you,” he says without prompting, and you grin. All it takes is a few sugared words, and he’s putty in your hands.

“Been such a good boy,” you croon, swiping your thumb across his mouth and sucking your own taste off your skin. “You wanna fuck me?”

A flash of something dances across his face, some aborted desire he’s not brave enough to voice dying on his tongue. “Yeah. I– yeah. I want that. Really bad. But… I might not… last, uh, very long. M’so fuckin’ hard, I just want–”

You prise open his jaw, silencing him as his eyes go wide. “Don’t push your luck. I’m letting you cum, ‘cause you’ve been such a good boy for me. Cum without my permission and I’ll make you wish you weren’t born,” you threaten lowly, spitting in his open mouth to seal your words.

He swallows eagerly, nodding hard. “Okay. Uh-huh, okay. M’sorry. Won’t cum, I swear.” You push him onto his back, staring impassively down at him as you straddle his waist. “Can you– I want– please,” he stammers, words tripping over themselves to escape his mouth as you laugh meanly down at him. 

You dig your nails into his chest, anchoring yourself and scraping a mark into his skin. You start to trace your first initial, something droning and possessive buzzing in your ears, then think better of it. Slowly, you circle your hips, teasing the tip of his cock at your dripping hole. “You want me? Want me to fuck you like this?” Matty grasps needily at your hips, whimpering uncontrollable pleas into the thick, lust-drenched air of your room. He cries out as you slam your hips down, unable to stopper the moan that falls from your lips as your cunt stretches wide around him.

Grinding your clit against his stomach, you gasp as Matty thrusts up into you, fucking you impossibly deep. “Shit, Matty,” you hiss, pleasure pulsing under your skin. His gaze is fixed on your tits as you bounce on his cock, timed with his thrusts so he fills you as deep as possible. Running a hand up your body, you squeeze one of your tits, twisting the barbell just enough that it smarts a little, a pained gasp weaving effortlessly between your moans. You whine as Matty’s calloused fingers come up to circle roughly over your clit; sloppy like he can barely control his limbs. “Fuck, baby. You tryin’ to get me off faster so I don’t notice how quick you cum?” You grab his jaw so he can’t look away. “Pathetic.”

Matty doesn’t even speak, just moans helplessly as you ride him, rolling your hips and bouncing on him. Liquid heat pools in your veins, your thighs starting to burn and your heart pumping ecstasy into every nerve of your body. The slick sounds of your hips meeting echo off the walls, tangling with heavy breaths and wanton moans in a lurid melody you wish you could press to vinyl. Your nails dig into his shoulders so hard you break skin, leaving a tangible, lasting mark in the unblemished marble of his skin.

You circle your hips, head swimming with desire. Matty’s desperate little moans only turn you on more, his hips stuttering as he gets closer. Pleasure hums under your skin, a soft throb in the back of your skull and the base of your spine. Your thighs are beginning to burn with the effort, but you barely feel it as you fuck him harder, chasing your own release as it hangs tantalisingly out of reach. “You feel so good,” Matty whines, breathless and needy as he fucks up into you with abandon. His blunt nails dig into your hips, pulling you down to drive deeper into you. White spots dance in your vision, everything in your world going hazy but the point where Matty’s skin meets yours. 

Pleasure courses up your spine in a sweet, sparkling arc, moans flowing freely as Matty’s fingers tease back over your swollen clit. “Fuck, feels so fuckin’ good,” you gasp. “Doin’ so well, baby. Gonna make me cum all over your cock, yeah?” He moans, rubbing tight, frantic circles at your clit. Tension coils tightly in your belly, the thread pulling taut until it finally snaps, arousal burning up your veins and flooding out against his skin, moaning helplessly as he keeps fucking into you. Dizzy, you fall forward, bracing your arms over Matty’s head and cunt pulsing around his cock. Matty’s lips close around your nipple, licking and sucking feverishly as you ride out your orgasm. “Shit,” you mutter, his other hand twisting your piercing as he groans, every motion tinged maniacal with need. “Did so well, Matty. You gonna cum for me? Go on, baby. Fuckin’ fill me up, yeah?”

Your words tip him over the edge, cock pulsing as he spills inside you, moaning your name around your tit. He gasps and whines, writhing helplessly under you. “God, feels so fuckin’ good,” he moans. “Thank you s’much,” he adds, smiling dopily up at you as you climb off him and test your weight on your feet before you stand. When you come back from cleaning yourself up, Matty’s dressed again, looking so miserable that you can’t help but take pity on him. “I’m goin’, don’t worry.”

You scoff. “Come back here.” Matty freezes, spinning on his heel so comically slowly that you stifle a giggle. “Jesus. I’m not evil. S’fucking freezing out there, I’m not making you trek back to fucking Wilmslow after that.” Matty just stares, and you roll your eyes. “Come back before I change my mind.”

Matty strips to his boxers embarrassingly fast, but you kind of don’t have it in you to tease when he slots himself sweetly into your arms. It’s almost… nice. Blech. “Did I do good?” he murmurs, his voice soft and sleep-thick.

You scratch your nails over his head and he hums happily. “Yeah, did so good, baby. Dunno what happened to all that shit you were talking about wrecking me, though. Kinda seemed like the other way around…” you tease.

He laughs softly. “I’ll get another chance. Gonna look so pretty crying on my cock, love.”

“Promises, promises,” you say, the muscles of his stomach tensing as you trace idle patterns in his skin. “Are you gonna keep them?”

“Piss me off enough and you’ll find out.”

Excitement thrills in your belly, the words sealing the two of you into some kind of promise, a brutal, delicious game of chess that you honestly couldn’t predict the winner in. “You know I will.”

#remember when i said this was gonna be shorter than white and gold #Whoops lol #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfic #writing #smut #regret me

[bro-atz]

daffodil [flower garden — hongjoong]

inspired by an old one shot i wrote years ago

in which: you can't help but have a crush on your child's teacher, mr. kim hongjoong.

pair: teacher!hongjoong/mom!fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

content: fluff, reader's child is gender neutral, star-gazing, crushes, pining, there's not much to say other than general fluff

rating: PG/PG-13 | safe for work!

author's note: @pocketjoong @nebulousbrainsoup as promised!

flower garden masterlist

You had a crush on your kid’s teacher. Honestly, you personally were mortified that you did because if your parent did that to you when you were a kid, you’d be so embarrassed, but here you were, a single mom, crushing on your kid’s homeroom teacher.

And to make matters worse, you had to meet with this teacher when you went for your kid’s parent-teacher conference. You thought that if you avoided this guy with all of your might and energy, you could get over this “inappropriate” crush you had.

“Mom, I don’t have to be there, do I?” your kid asked you.

“Yes, you do, sweetie,” you answered, a slight wave of relief washing over you as you realized that you had to remain professional in front of the teacher since your kid would be right by your side.

Your kid pouted and reluctantly got into the car before you hopped in the driver’s seat.

You wished the ride to the school would take long, that you would get stuck in traffic, that you would miss your allotted slot time with the teacher and be forced to miss the conference, but there was absolutely no traffic, and if anything, you got to the school way too early.

Instead of waiting in the parking lot like you wanted to, you and your kid were waiting in front of the classroom for the teacher since your kid really, really needed to use the bathroom. You shouldn’t have been checking your appearance so that you could potentially score a date with the teacher, but you sat and checked your lipstick for the umpteenth time as you waited for the conference before yours to end.

“Alright, well, it was lovely to meet you!”

Fuck, just hearing his voice was enough to get your heart pumping. You turned your head to see him, your kid’s teacher, standing and talking to the parents who were in the room prior. You couldn’t help but stare at his side profile, the way his nose shape was so perfect, the beautiful smile on his face, and the little mole on his neck that you desperately wanted to run your finger over.

“Y/N?” the teacher asked, snapping you out of your dizzy daydream. “Come in.”

You nodded and guided your kid into the room, the two of you sitting in the chairs across from the desk. Your eyes couldn't help but spot the beautiful bouquet of daffodils sitting near his computer monitor, only for your eyes to immediately snap to the man when he entered your frame of vision. The second he sat across from you, your mind truly went blank, and you went on autopilot. You couldn’t remember a damn word from that conference and remained dazed until you got home and tucked your kid in for bed.

“Oh my God,” you mumbled to yourself as you covered your face with a pillow. “Oh my God.”

Luckily for you, the next couple of days at work were insane, and you didn’t think about him at all. You didn’t think about him at all until you ran into him at the grocery store a week later.

You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t froth at the mouth just seeing him. Usually he was wearing a semi-formal outfit while he was working, but seeing him dressed down slightly, an extra button of his shirt undone and revealing more of his chest, made your mouth water. You really were crushing hard on this teacher.

“Y/N?” he asked, snapping you out of your daydream yet again.

“Y-Yes! Oh, hi Mr. Kim—“

“Please, call me Hongjoong. I insist,” he said while chuckling slightly. “I think we’re around the same age, so there’s no need to be formal with me.”

You felt the tips of your ears heat up; the thought of being overly friendly with your kid’s teacher felt super wrong, but he insisted that you call him by his first name, so how could you say no?

“I had no idea you went to this grocery store,” you said softly, trying to get him to continue the conversation instead of standing there in awkward silence with you.

“I actually just started coming here since it’s closer to where I live now. I actually moved in yesterday,” Hongjoong explained.

“Oh, really? Where to?”

“The apartment complex around the corner.”

“Wait, building 1024?” you asked, your heart starting to race as you realized that the man you were crushing on could potentially be your building neighbor.

“Yes! Oh, wait, you live there too, right?”

“H-How do you know that?” you asked, your eyes wide open.

“It’s in your kid’s files since you’re listed as an emergency contact,” Hongjoong quickly explained while holding back a laugh as he realized how creepy it must sound that he knows where you live. “I only remembered because I looked through the database a couple days ago to see which of my students I might accidentally run into.”

“Oh… That makes sense…”

Just like that, the two of you sunk into a comfortable conversation while grocery shopping together— since you were neighbors, it only made sense for the two of you to leave the store together, right? And honestly, the more you got into the conversation, the more you realized that you really liked him. Thankfully, your heart wasn’t racing at the speed of light, but you found yourself developing more than just a crush on the guy. It wasn’t love— not quite yet, but you feared that it had the potential to get there if you didn’t keep your distance, and you had to out of respect for not only the teacher, but for your kid.

Being neighbors with your kid's teacher proved to have some advantages. For instance, Hongjoong offered to bring your kid back from school with him if you had to stay late at the office, or the two of you would go grocery shopping together, easing the long day you had, and your friendship with the man had developed to the point where he would come over for dinner sometimes, and you and your kid would go to his place.

You thought your kid would be weirded out by the unlikely friendship you made with their teacher, but you were proven wrong.

"No, Mr. Kim is so cool! He can play so many instruments, and he's real nice. I like him," your kid told you when you sat them down to make sure they were comfortable with how close you were to their teacher.

"So you're okay with mommy and Mr. Kim hanging out?"

"Yep. Honestly, mom, you should date him." Your jaw dropped and your eyes flew wide open— when did your kid learn about things like this?! They were eight years old for crying out loud! Then, your kid continued, "He's single, and you are too, and you both really seem to like each other."

"W-W-What are you saying?" you choked out, flabbergasted.

"I'm saying date him, mom," your kid said matter-of-factly.

"Oh my God, go get ready for bed, please," you let out a deep sigh and shooed them off.

"At least consider it—"

"Go!"

Laughing, your kid scurried off to the bathroom, leaving you baffled and shocked for many, many reasons. Your mind was reeling to the point where you seriously needed some air before you fell over, so you hollered to your kid in the bathroom that you would be right back, left the apartment, and decided to go to the roof, only to see Hongjoong leaning against the railing and looking up at the sky.

"H-Hongjoong! H-Hi!" you stuttered, your kids words still weighing heavily on your mind. "I had no idea you were out here..."

"Oh, good! Come here and join me," Hongjoong gestured for you to join him at the ledge.

You slowly made your way over and stood next to him, leaving a little room between the two of you out of respect and, honestly, for your sanity. But, when you looked to the side and at him, you felt like daffodils and other flowers were blossoming all around him, the man sparkling under the moonlight, the soft smile on his face making you want to scream or cry or run away or all of the above.

"So," you started. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, just... Star-gazing," he responded with a gentle sigh.

"I see..."

You nodded and turned your head to the sky. You lived in the city, so there weren't many stars to look at— actually, you had no idea which stars Hongjoong was even looking at because you seriously couldn't see anything.

"So, you see that star right there?" Hongjoong asked as he pointed at the sky.

You looked, but you couldn't see a single thing even with his finger hovering near the star.

"No, I don't," you admitted.

"Here, right..." Hongjoong took your hand and folded your fingers so that only your pointer finger was out before holding it up and positioning your finger to where he wanted you to look. "Right there."

Your eyes followed your finger, and finally, you were able to see what he was looking at. You were dazed— the star was shining so brightly, and somehow, you missed it. Then, he proceeded to explain to you the significance of that star, and while he was explaining it, you were even more dazed and in complete and utter awe of the man. Soon, you weren't looking at the sky, but at him. You watched him explain the stars passionately, the soft smile on his face spreading warmth through your chest, and when you spotted the little mole on his neck, your heart started beating erratically.

"What? What is it?" Hongjoong suddenly cut himself off when he realized you had been staring at him and not at the stars.

"Huh?" you managed out when you snapped out of it.

"You've been staring at me, Y/N," he chuckled softly.

"Have I? Oh, dear, I'm so sorry..."

"Is there something on my face? You were staring pretty intently."

You were rendered mute. You had no idea what to say to him to save your skin. You couldn't admit to him or yourself that you were staring at him because he was just so gosh darn pretty, but you couldn't come up with an excuse for your behavior.

Hongjoong, suddenly realizing that he was still holding your hand, let go of your hand and leaned back slightly. A dusty rose blush rose to his cheeks as he looked away coyly before a slight look of disappointment painted his face.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I must've made you uncomfortable just now..."

"What? O-Oh, no, you didn't..."

A brief silence filled the space between the two of you. You knew that both of you wanted to say something, anything, but the words were stuck. The words got even more stuck for you when Hongjoong closed the gap between the two of you, his hand nearing yours as they rested on the railing.

"So what brings you out here tonight?" he asked in attempt to clear the air.

"Oh, that," you couldn't help but laugh. "My kid was being silly, but got in my head, so I came out to clear it."

"Yeah? Silly about what?"

"That you and I should date because we both apparently like each other."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you covered your mouth in complete and utter shock. You had no actual intention of revealing that conversation with the man, but you had completely let your guard down while talking about your kid with the one person you could trust completely with your kid, that it just slipped out.

"I'm so sorry!" you burst out before Hongjoong could say anything. "My kid— you know how silly my kid can be— and I— Well, I don't— I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable..."

Hongjoong couldn't help but burst into laughter at your reaction, the sheer happiness on his face making your heart swell up but sink at the same time when you realized he was laughing at the situation.

"Your kid really is something," he sighed as his laughter died down. "What do you think?"

"A-About what?"

"What your kid said. Do you agree?"

"Huh?"

With a soft smile, Hongjoong placed his hand over yours and earnestly looked into your eyes as he spoke softly, "I think your kid is right— that if two people like each other, then they should date. I don't know about you, but I do like you..."

"You... You do?"

Hongjoong responded by squeezing your hand gently, confirming his feelings for you.

"I, uh... I would have to agree, too, then..."

"What are you agreeing with?"

"Everything, because I like you, too, Kim Hongjoong."

flower garden masterlist

flower garden taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @khjoongie98

networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @newworldnet @wonderlandnet

#codn: spring 24 #atzhouse #cromernet #cultofdionysusnet #newworldnet #wonderlandnet #ateez #kim hongjoong #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x fem!reader #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong ateez #hongjoong ateez #kim hongjoong fluff #broatz #flower garden series #flower garden ateez #Spotify

[personwhowrites]

Diner Adventures 2

slight stalker!John soap Mactavish x gn!reader.

Tw: none!

Part 1

Picking up Soap’s handwritten napkin, was an odd feeling. This man annoyed you, yet still apologized with a handwritten note on some napkin covered in some slight grease. The cook gave you the stare of ‘you aren’t actually gonna..’

“Don’t say anything..” You say stuffing the napkins into your apron. “At least they stacked their plates.”

“You aren’t really gonna.. contact some stranger that kept nagging you..right?” The cook replies raising his right brow. “Don’t tell me you got for mohawk men..”

“At this point in my dating life, i might settle down for anything.” You joke with a small grin. “Come on, they seemed nice didn’t they?”

“Weren’t we just talking bad about them?” The cook groans and grabs the plates. “Again, didn’t he nag you about the menu? How disgusting it was and how on earth us Americans would eat that crap?”

“Yes, but he apologized.” You point out grabbing the empty cups.

“On a grease used napkin.” The cook reminds you before shaking his head. “They did seem hungry.. they ate everything up.”

“..you’re right..” You mumble looking at the empty plates in the cooks hand. “Maybe someone finally liked your cooking!”

“..That Gaz guy said i should stir the pancake better.” The cook chuckles and walks into the back.

You stand there for a moment, before quickly following. The cook sighs in some defeat as he stares at the dirty plates in the sink.

“We should get a dishwasher.” The cook mentions while placing the dishes in the sink. “It can help us.”

“No one in their right mind would be some dishwasher for a diner in the middle of nowhere.” You reply and walk to the sink. “Rock paper scissors?”

The cook groans and nods, soon you start playing rock paper scissors. As your about to throw rock, the manager comes in with a nasty look on their face.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be tending to the customers!” The manager hisses as she points to the kitchen. “Go go! I’ll do the dishes.”

You and the cook stare at her confused. What customers? Last time you both check there was no one. The cook hurries to the kitchen, before calling out your name. You walk out fast, there is a line of people waiting now. You both stare at each other, confused on how so many people arrived.

“Hello! Uh.. how many?” You say approaching the people.

“Party of five, can we get a table?” The person says as you grab the menus. “Thank you so much sweetie.”

You just nod and lead them to a table, you set them down grabbing their order of drinks. You rush over to the cook, telling him to help you get the drinks as you set down more parties of five or three people. The place was buzzing with activity, yet you didn’t understand how. Suddenly you notice someone on the roof coming down. You pause everything leaving the cook to tend to everyone. Rushing out you meet with stranger, a tool belt attached to his hips.

“Hey!” You shout approaching them. “The hell are y…you… doing…” you pause as you see the new lit sign of the diner. “..what?”

“Some Mactavish called me and my buddy to come by this diner.” The repair man says pointing his buddy. “Saying that the sign was damage.. but honestly you folks just needed to connect some plug.”

“What?” You say as the repair man shrugs. “..Mactavish?”

“Yeah some guy named John Mactavish paid in advance too.” The repair says and looks at the diner. “I drive by here all the time and I thought this place was abandoned.. good to know it isn’t.”

Before you could reply he walks away with buddy. Both getting in their truck and driving away into the dark night. The red lights of their cars soon turning smaller and smaller by the second. The cook exits the diner and shouts your name, telling you to come back and help him.

“Coming!” You yell before digging into your apron for the handwritten napkins.

You find Soap’s note, reading it over before quickly rushing back into the diner. The napkin stuffed in the back of your pocket..

When it came time for you to shut down for the day, the cook offered you a ride home. He knew how far you walked just to get to this diner.

“Just come on, I‘ll tell my wife I’ll be dropping you off.” The cook says with a warm smile. “She would rather me give you a ride than you to walk in the dark.”

“Fine..” you mumble as you two put your jacket on and the day shift comes in. “Come on that’s our cue.”

The cook waves bye to the day shift people, taking you with him to his car. You take the passenger front seat and watch as he gets in his drivers seat.

“..Those people who came to fix the car..” You pause and look down at your apron. “They said some John Mactavish guy called them at graveyard hours to come fix it.”

“Really now?” The cook replies pulling out the parking lot. “Well, it helped didn’t it? We both got a lot of tips and the manager actually did something for once.”

“Mark.. I think those four guys we tended to.. really are important more than we think.” You say looking at Mark with a a tense look. “What if they come back?”

“Didn’t the notes say they would?” Mark replies and looks at the road. “You still live at those apartment complex’s?”

“Moved out, i live more in the north side of town.” You reply and look out the window. The morning sunlight shining against you face. “Mark.. do you think that.. they might hurt us?”

“Christ.. you always think positive eh?” Mark mumbles stopping at a red light. “..well I don’t know..”

There was a tense silence as Mark drove again. He let out a frustrating sigh and looked at you.

“Mactavish you said?” Mark says and stops a parking lot. “Sounds Scottish.”

“Scottish?” You reply before remembering soap sounded different than the others. “..Scottish..”

“What’s the address?” Mark says pulling up Google maps. “To your new home.”

“Oh.. it’s… Avr. 2863 North.. aprment 2” you mumble looking at your apron. “…Mark.. do you think it was that soap guy?”

Mark stays silent before sighing and pulling up to your apartment complex.

“That’s for you to find out..” Mark say and smiles. “See you Monday, have a good day? Night? I don’t know anymore.”

You chuckle and get out the car, waving bye to him as he drives away. You walk over to your apartment, a cozy home for you and your lovely cat. Which you call “mr.boo”. His front two paws are white, his chest is plum up with white fur while the rest of his fur is black. . He quietly greets you with a slow blink with those beautiful green eyes before running over to your legs, circling them while purring.

“Good to see you too mr.boo.” You smile and kneel down petting him.

Mr.boo just meows, before walking away to his cat tree. Taking your shoes off and setting them down by the front door felt like a relief, you were home.. finally home.

After a warm nice shower you lay down on your bed. Looking at your apron on the bedside desk, the same question pondering. Is soap real name John Mactavish? You quickly sit up and grab the apron searching for the napkins.

Your body ache, but the question couldn’t be unanswered. You grab your phone on the charger and start to type in soap number. Your eyes slowly closing in the process, with a yawn you write a sleep text not even double checking as you click send. You set the phone down and fall asleep, closing the world with Mr.boo purring on your back.

After a few hours you heard Mr.boo meowing, he was hungry. Sheepishly you get out of bed, heading into the kitchen to grab a can of cat food. You reach other for a clean cat plate and open the can, setting the food down.

“Mr.Boo, come here baby.” You say with a yawn. “Come on..”

Within seconds, you hear your phone buz with activity. You walk back tinto your bedroom grabbing your charger. The notifications still blaring, one after another. It was the number you texted, soap number to exact.

Who is this? How do you know my name?

Do you need money?

Do you have someone I love? Who is it? what’s your demand?

Question after question, you stare at the messages confused. Then.. remembered, you texted soap in a sleepy state a couple hours ago. You scroll up to the text you sent.

John Mactavish is it? Thanks for the favor, might return one to you soon. Maybe price you less than allowed to.

The message seemed like some treat. You quickly start typing, and send him a message.

Im so sorry! This is the waitress from the diner. I fell asleep and just now saw the text.

You pause and bite you lip before sending another message.

You wrote your number on a napkin, apologizing for nagging me. Also, thank you for getting Simeon to fix that sign.

The message got read, there was some text bubbles before disappearing. You quickly type another message.

The maintenance guy said your name, so I thought it would be you since it sounded Scottish..

The message got read again before finally a text on his end shows up.

Maybe next time start with your name, had a heart attack over here. I thought someone bad had gotten my number lass

You sigh softly but then stare the message. Someone bad? Who is bad in his life? Another message came through, shaking you out of your thoughts.

You’re welcome to fixing the sign

You smile a bit and start typing back before another message comes in.

Diner was busy after that, wasn’t it?

You soon stare at the message, did he drive by with his buddies again? To see the massive crowd in that diner..?

Yeah it was

There was moment of silence, then a text back from Soap.

Text you later, I’m in the middle of doing something right now

You smile and start to type back.

All good, I need to rest anyways night shifts aren’t fun

The message was read but there was no reply. You set the phone back down before walking to the kitchen, looking down at the empty bowl.

“You eat good huh?” You call out to Mr.Boo. “Who wants a treat!”

The following day was spent with you sleeping, resting up. The next day was Saturday, a day off for you to wonder around town to get needed items for your apartment. There was a small market near your home, but it barely had the items you needed. So walking to a store that did was a pain.

You hear knocking on the front door. You stare at it puzzled, you weren’t expecting anyone or anything. You walk over and peer to the hole to see a deliver driver with a couple of bags. Unknowingly you open the door, the guy smiles.

“Here you ma’am! Thank you for shopping with Diamond Dove Market!” The guy said handing out the bags to you. “Hope you have a good day!”

Before you can even protest the guy walks away. Your phone buzzes, you quickly take it out and see a text from soap.

You should really rest, got you some stuff for the week. No need to go out there and walk. :)

You stare at the message wide eyes, this man.. knew where you work.. and now live.

#cod fandom #cod #cod fanfic #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #cod soap #cod ghost #cod price #cod gaz #cod soap x reader #soap cod #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #john soap x reader #tbh idk #this was kinda rushed… #whoops.. wonder how he found out??? #better move again 🤭

[oursecretways]

Forbidden feelings pt.1

older non-idol! Chan × younger! Reader notes: aaah I did it! Honestly got a little stuck on it for a while (╥﹏╥) buuut we are finally here! For me, this is a lesson learned: sometimes you need to take a step back! Also, some important things: for now I just want to upload my works, but I will go and edit all that needs to be edited. My native language isn't English, so please be patient and piggybacking off of patience: I am gonna start working on Monday. So, even though I want to try to write as much as I can, it might take longer for a little while at least until I learned the ins and outs of my tasks. Hope y'all understand, much love. ♡ genre: fluff, angst, slice of life word count: 1,437

warning(s): age gap, slight violence, little sad

« Overture │part 1 │ part 2 »

  As soon as you landed and made your way into the airport hall, your phone started to ring— it was Chan. He wanted to pick you up and help you move into your dorm. After clearing your throat and trying to calm your nerves, you picked up the phone. “Hey, Y/N! Where are you? I'll park my car and pick you up.” You smiled ever since you two met at your home, you could rely on him:  he was always on the lookout for you, making it hard for your younger self not to develop a big fat crush on him. “I'm in terminal 4.” You said, after looking around, to make sure you say the correct number. Once you saw an empty bench, you sat down. Thankfully, the terminals were quite empty, and only a few people were going to their flights or to catch a cab outside. “Okay, star there; I'm coming to pick you up.” He said that and hung up on you, and even though you knew Chan didn't see it, you nodded. Not like you were planning on moving; your stuff was so heavy that you barely moved it with your strength, even though you thought you are strong, since you and Binnie worked out together daily — making you quite proud of yourself if you’re being honest — while you were in your hometown. He was like a personal trainer for you, which made your brother roll his eyes. Although he acted like he hated it, he is glad that you and his friend group are getting along. The group always felt like a part of your family—making it quite large—and was always there to hang out at your place when they could, since you got the biggest house; it wasn't a mansion but had some spacious rooms. Once your parents realized that they had adopted seven boys, they bought a couple of inflatable mattresses and more bedding.

 While waiting for Chan, you quickly checked your phone, replying to the family group chat that you are indeed okay, Channie is about to pick you up, and yes, you will call them once you're settled into your dorm. When you looked up from your mobile, you first noticed a chest, then a pair of big brown eyes and his smile. The butterflies in your stomach went wild. How can someone be so handsome? You smiled back at him, waving awkwardly and trying to choke your feelings. “Hey Channie, sorry for troubling you; I could've gotten a taxi; I didn't think that my parents would make you do this.” You averted your eyes to the ground. Judging by the time of day and him being in a suit, you knew he would be late for his corporate job. Even though you were happy he came to get you, it truly bothered you that he stopped everything to get you. Yes, your luggage is heavy, but you are already 20 and in college, which in your eyes makes you an adult. “I volunteered to help you; they didn't ask me. I wanted to make sure you got all the help you needed. We both know you won't ask anyone for help; the only difference is that I can tell you what you need help with.” You couldn't help but get slightly frustrated with his know-it-all tone and the smirk on his face.

 Without saying a word, you gave him your suitcase and started walking straight. He was standing behind you, shaking his head. “Go left; that is where I parked.”

The car ride was filled with jokes, singing along to the playlist you started making together a while back. You couldn’t help but admire his smiley. His dimples and the way his eyes shrink as he smiles from ear to ear. You hope he doesn’t catch you staring, but it is so hard not to drool over this man. Eventually, you focus on looking out the window and taking a little nap, since getting to your dorm takes longer than you expected. Once he realizes that you’re fast asleep, he lowers the volume of the music you’ve been listening to and smiles to himself, “She’s all grown up now, huh…” 

Chan gently wakes you up once you’ve arrived. You were drowsy but murmured an okay as a response, then after a big stretch you get out of the car and tried to get your stuff out of his truck, but he stopped you. “Let me get it for you” you watched sheepishly as he got your luggage out, “Chan, I am grateful, but I can do it.” He just shook his head, not taking you seriously. As he got your belongings out, he stopped in his tracks, “Wait, Y/N, close your eyes for me just a bit.” Without much hesitation, you did as he told you. You heard him shuffle some things as he probably got something out of his car. “Okay you can open it now” Once you opened it you saw a wolf plushie in front of you: he had a happy face. You took it from him with some hesitation within you. Its gray fur was unbelievably soft. You looked at him with a puzzled exertion on your face, “It is a gift for you, since you got into University now. You used to tell me that I remind you of a wolf, so whenever I cannot come to your rescue Wolf-chan will be with you.” you couldn’t help, but laugh at his proud expression with the name idea he had, saying a silent pray for his future kids within you… This man needs to come up with better names for them. “But I am an adult now, I don’t play with plushies.” You protested; judging by his facial expression, he knew you would say something like that, so without skipping a heartbeat he said, “Oh, I guess I can just throw it out instead then.” You immediately opposed his statement, making him smirk. You rolled your eyes and held the plushie tight to your chest.

Once Chris left, and you unpacked your stuff and called your parents. You showed them around on a video call, introduced your roommates to them. Their worry for you feels suffocating, even if you know it comes from a place of love. 

After a couple of days you got accumulated to the University life, and became besties with your roommates:  Nari, Jia and Hana. You got so caught up that in your own bubble that you had Chan slip out of your mind… maybe for the better, he doesn’t feel the same for me anyway, maybe I should look for other people — at least that is what you told yourself. 

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Chan’s POV.:

It has been almost a month, since he has seen or talked with you. He tried texting you a couple dozen times along the lines of: “Hey, Y/N! How’s the dorm? Are you getting along with everyone?” or “Are you free this weekend? We could hang out, maybe eat lunch or dinner together.” 

His frustration grew larger and larger — understandably. He didn’t know what he did, if he did anything, and this weird almost suffocating feeling, so he went back to focusing on his job: making games. “We’re about to launch an important update anyway, I need to focus on this” he sighed as he grabbed a bottle of water and continued his late night work.

His days went by, consisted with working his ass off late into the night, so the management — once the update was out — took the department for a night out at a bar. It was fun, he cannot deny it, although he didn’t drink much — thanks to the need to take care of your brother and their friend group — he enjoyed himself. Once he bid his farewells, and left the place, Chan noticed a seemingly younger couple fight, so as anyone would do he just wanted to go beside them not causing any disturbance thinking that they can figure it out. Until he heard your name: What do you mean no, Y/N? Did you think I was this nice just to get nothing? I am your upperclassman, wouldn’t you want to give the respect I deserve?” And then Chris saw you, trying to get out his clench. “I didn’t think of it as like you wanted anything, I just thought you’re being friendly! How is that my fault?..” This is all that he could listen to. He changed his course and grabbed your hand out of his. “Y/N? I was looking for you everywhere.”

🏷️(open):

@toomanybiasz

#bang chan fluff #oursecretways forbidden feelings #oursecretways #bang chan x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids au #stray kids #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #seungmin #skz angst #skz x you #stray kids x reader #bahng chan #stray kids college au #skz college au #skz fanfic #skz #skz x reader #skz stay #changbin #bang chan #han #lee know #i.n #skz au #lee felix #lee minho #lee know as your brother #lee felix x reader

[sophiethewitch1]

i really need to make a proper dni. i just like, forget that people are freaks sometimes. like not the fun type of freak mind you but like oh my god you need genuine help kind of freak

#sophie speaks #the 14 year old who posts about eating disorders in my notes??? #hello??? leave me alone??? #im sorry but we think fat people are unbelievably sexy on this tumblr #i honestly need to check my notes more I just like #i dont want to have to block a bunch of minors for liking my shit but like. i want to post smut and I am afraid of cops <3 #you... why are we doing this... #why are you making me do this. why. #dude when i was 14 and reading smut I knew how to shut the fuck up idfk #tw eating disorder #tw fatphobia #thats the second bit of bullshit ive recently had to deal with #guess this is what you get when you post online

[einaudis]

ALL OF US STRANGERS (2023) dir. ANDREW HAIGH

#filmedit #filmgifs #movieedit #moviegifs #All of Us Strangers #aousedit #filmtvdaily #filmtvcentral #cinemapix #fyeahmovies #dailyflicks #mine* #mygifs #movies* #I can't believe this is done. and you won't believe how long it took me to make it. insane... because it's just a scene #I didn't even use different fonts. or a cool template. or transitions... it was a single scene... but look... I made captures for 10 gifs #and things kept happening and I kept finding little gestures and beautiful things and I just couldn't keep them out the gifs #I mean look at Harry and that slow realization. please look at the glow around his shoulders at the beginning #and how ethereal and out of this world he already is AND THEN when Adam says 'I found you' he becomes more... real and present! #and those eyes and the intensity of that 'you're here' and their eyes and faces and smiles and how Harry's desperate but Adam calms him dow #and his voice when he asks 'how come no one found me?' the realization that people didn't care to check on him. it screamed to my soul #I haven't stopped thinking about that scene since the moment I first watched it #honestly... I wish I could live in this scene forever #now this is a super long post and I know it won't get many notes and it was surely made before... but I needed to make this for myself... #so here it is :) I'm tired but I love it #GOD the way Harry goes full baby when Adam caresses his cheek and he SMILES LIKE THAT! AHHHHHHH! #*runs down the hill screaming*

[honeydots]

What do you think Siegbert’s relationship with Laslow and Soleil’s relationship with Xander are like particularly as they get older/teenagers.

anon you're enabling me i LOVE their parent/child relationships as they get older!!! read more cause this got looooong

for laslow and siegbert--well first off, i think laslow always can provide a particular brand of emotionally-based support that develops more as siegbert gets older. siegbert has his Anxiety Issues, and where laslow and xander both struggle w sociality as well, i think laslow can relate in a more... empathetic way? dealing with some of the emotional aftermath and letting feelings be feelings (this isn't to say siegbert doesn't go to xander or that xander doesn't help, i just think they're good at different things). on a more lighthearted note, i think laslow's really good at getting a giggle out of siegbert, and good at finding ways to alleviate pressure. he's been doing this for years with xander. and yes, xander and siegbert need different things, but laslow's good at pinpointing those things

something i rly like abt their relationship is that i think that where siegbert more openly shows his idolization of xander (like we see in-game), he still does something really similar with laslow. looking up to him, taking inspiration from him. it just comes out in different ways. for example, siegbert probably trusts laslow's opinions... a lot. considers his sometimes more than his own. and he's just fascinated by the stories he tells. even after laslow's married to xander, i like to think he still travels (and drags xander with him as often as he can--and also drags their kids along as often as he can hahaha), and those stories in particular really entrap siegbert. which is good for a budding prince, i think something laslow (and eventually siegbert and soleil) has that xander lacks is some open mindedness, and not being so narrowly nohr-centric in his perspective--esp in upbringing, if that makes sense. this is also why i like laslow taking xander traveling, cause ultimately i think it would do him good.

ONTO!!! soleil and xander!! ive mentioned before how much i like the grumpy-dad and peppy-daughter dynamic, but. to reiterate: i really really like it gjsjfjsnf soleil, similarly to laslow but probably even more, tends to go to xander and ramble about her girl successes and failures. just barging into his office like i hope you're not busy cause i have things to SAY!! and i don't think xander dismisses her, but he does make her wait sometimes, hahaha. i also think xander will often tell soleil what she needs to hear, rather than what she wants, and ultimately for her that's better than the alternative. he's not entirely harsh (though he can be and that's something to work on), but honest. he also dotes on her more than he should by a xander-standard LOL

i think soleil provides to xander a lot of brightness--it is NOT lost on me that they named her soleil, sun, in a place like nohr. i think surrounding xander with bright people is a fantastic idea. and just like laslow's doing with the traveling thing, soleil probably gets xander to socialize a little more, haha. he isn't a brick wall that can't talk to anybody, but--he does strike me as the kind of guy who has coworkers, but not friends, ya feel me. soleil's confident and full of energy, and tbh i think she's the type to really want attention from her parents, so asking xander to come along with her is a frequent request. and that eventually, naturally, leads to xander getting out more. she doesn't have the same setback as laslow that if he gets shy enough he'll retreat entirely while they're out, hahaha

and one final note to round this off: i like to think!! that xander and soleil are both cat people (xander = cabbit, and soleil has lines about owning kitten posters), where laslow and siegbert are dog people (i have many aus where laslow has a pet dog so this is more of a 'because i said so' kinda thing) (also you might be inclined to think cat for siegbert also but i need you to look inward. deeper. i think he'd like the enthusiasm...!!! i have more i could say but i'll leave it at that)

there you go!! :D

#GAWD this was long. i was writing the second part of the siegbert one and i was like shit #i still have soleil's to go. ghsjfjsb #i rly do have more to say. but..... #my next longfic after my current one is LITERALLY all about this. especially as the story goes on #and im rattling the bars of my cage like. i wanna explore this in the fic rather than here #cause i can do it BETTER in the fic i know i can #so. eventually there will be more on this topic. if you're still interested in (checks scheduling notes) a year? gjsjgjsjfjsdn #that fic is easily why i have so much to say NOW. i think abt it a lot #and honestly i just really really love parent/child dynamics of all sorts #especially from both of their perspectives. you know!!! #anyway thank u anon for giving me the chance to ramble. this is seriously some of my fave stuff #ahhh this reminded me i have a fan parent-child support for xander and soleil i still need to write out #i have the synopsis but it's not really properly *written* #part of that is bc im indecisive on the formatting tho #comically i think the mother-son support for siegbert works very well to just slide laslow into #but tbh id like to eventually make one for them too #just for fun hehe #okay i will stop now because tags are getting long too #(<- girl who can't shut up abt her ships) #dots answers asks #anonymous #dots's xnlw tag

[pebblezone]

Idk how welcome home has overrun literally all of my social media but I guess I welcome it

#talkingcore #I love puppets it’s all on me I’m engaging this actually isn’t a complaint more like a I Didn’t Know This Existed 24 hours ago #and now it’s literally all I’m seeing like 80% of the videos I’ve seen today have been welcome home which like honestly is super impressive #hell yeah to those creators they’ve got some insane drive #album adventure update: finally rolled good ol honorary Beach boy Glen Campbell maybe I’ll give you guys ram ranch #pip would’ve loved ram ranch 💔 rip king fly high 🕊️🧍‍♂️ 18 naked cowboys 😭 at the ram ranch 😰 #I’ve been fucking around with lip syncing shit and it’s tedious as hell but heeehee it’s fun woooah the mouth moves wooooahaaahhhhhh #also this dude keeps leaving his Apple Watch in the practice room in my dorm and like thankfully I’m such an amazing and perfect person #that I didn’t take it the first time but the second time (like 2 weeks later) I said fuck it and just used it while it was still in there #(I’d checked at 2. saw it was there. didn’t use it. came back at 5 it was still there so like a reasonable amount of time to get it) #so I fucked around as normal but like I started getting freaked by the possibility of it listening (it probs wasn’t) #so I left but like bro how do you forget it twice why are you taking it off #I gave it to the help desk people which I think was the right thing to do but also Dude think how easily I could’ve stolen it please keep it #no longer dying of the plague but I need to hang onto my t boy swag pleasepleaseplease let me keep at least some lower notes #I will accept not hitting a G2 again but like. a C3? even just a D3 like regularly? please? please? please? hello? you’re nothing #anyway I’m avoiding my work you guys should look up The Beach Boys and Charles Manson have a gander at that for fun #thanks to my lovely institution having a strike going on by mid Thursday I’m done for the week which means I get to indulge and boy shall I #love you 🫶 go slay 🫶 have great vagina 🫶 byeeee

[mxgyver]

tw/cw: negative body talk? (let me know if i need to add) this post will be deleted eventually anyways i just needed to get this out

shopping as plus-sized/mid-sized/larger woman is lowkey a nightmare. i just want to look cute and try to feel cute because I don't always like how my body looks!!! yet all the options we have are dresses that are kinda cute, but the silhouette isn't flattering or the patterns are just... not it. like I'm trying to do a little online black friday shopping as a Treat™️ and although I love ASOS the dresses are a little disappointing :( that or the clothing items are waaay more expensive than the "straight sizes" and it's like??? these are literally the same style and article of clothing why tf are you charging an arm and a leg more for a little extra fabric and time??? it's fucking stupid. that or I'll see something that I think is really cute, but the sizes cut off right before mine 🤪 size-inclusive my ass. anywho, if anyone has some decent suggestions, hit your girl up!

#anywho this is why i stick to just wearing tshirts all of the time :-) #it's the only thing i feel comfortable in especially w/ how large my chest it #i'm still in the process of finding a plastic surgeon for a reduction but i got discouraged the last time i checked because #they said you needed to be under a certain bmi (fucking stupid imo) in order to get it done #and that just... hit me at a low point #like yes because trying to lose weight is going to magically make my tig ole bitties that i've had since high school #when i was like 20 pounds lighter... any smaller 🙄 #like yes i've definitely gained weight and sometimes that fucks with my psyche a little #but it's just a number & i'm not trying to let it run my life and how i feel?? #anywho i hope y'all are having a good friday 💗 #i'll feel fine in a little bit i'm going to go watch youtube or browse more clothing stores #sierra speaks #tbd #side note: i'm feeling fine mentally right now!! just super frustrated with the relationship between fashion & being larger than the “norm” #honestly looking at myself in the mirror half-naked from all angles before getting dressed is kinda nice #sometimes i'll be like damn my butt looks good or sheesh watch out for the curves!! #it's confusing & frustrating going back and forth from feeling pretty good about my body #to feeling like i just don't want to even give my body a single thought ya know #but hey! progress is not a linear thing! #i debated on whether or not to post this bc as i started typing more tags i was like hmmm i'm feeling okay about this #but whatever i guess lmaooo #enough rambling in the tags though #i'll catch y'all out there

[crimsonblackrose]

Lately as I write about things I don’t particularly care about but don’t mind learning about I feel like I understand Becky Bloomwood. 🤣 I don’t have the shopping addiction, but sometimes you can end up finding yourself in a weird niche for writing. “bored to tears” is accurate description at the moment as I look up specs and wonder how anyone can look at something and go yeah that’s exactly the same as the 2001 model in style but if you look here at this part, that’s similar to the 2011 one, and this, this is the exciting new feature that’s just...not exciting to me. 😅

#mumbling about work #I've realized I've entered the confessions of a shopaholic part of my life #slaps the roof of the top of a brand new car coming out in the near future 'you would not believe how little I care' #though sometimes there's fun little tidbits #or like I actually cover news #and honestly I'm just happy I'm writing because no other department would let me because they're short staffed for admin #which is their own fault #they refuse to hire anyone full time to manage admin tasks or do admin tasks #the one person working full time for admin is overseas and being paid peanuts with 0 benefits #and it makes me so mad #anyway this was brought on by the fact I saw one of the articles I was using as a source was written by a woman #and realized huh I might have enough clips to do this elsewhere #and then the cringe of omg please not this niche #i need to start job hunting again #was the devil's wears prada the same? #honestly I think so if I remember the book correctly #because she doesn't give two figs about fashion either at the start of the book #and honestly both of 'em economics and fashion would throw me for a loop too #but I think...I could care or spin both a little bit easier then checks notes knowing why people are excited over tires #maybe I should more accurately say I've entered the early-mid 2000's rom com journalist era of my life but without the rom or the com #unless it's irony and stress because there's so much of both #that's where I am in my rom com hero journey #which is hilarious because Korea gave me all the k-drama cliches possible #so I feel like I went back a couple steps

[tapucocoafgc]

For me, being an adult with an arts degree is realizing that, in your 30s, all you want for Christmas is a new phone and a fat check

#like yeah some video games would be neat too #but after 3 years my backlog is actually manageable again and ngl I'd kinda like to keep it that way #also there's just nothing coming out that I'm that interested in #oh also an extra fat check to fix the damage on my car that's been there since before I moved out here would be nice #but that's a whole other side note #anyway this is just a realization I came to this morning after talking to my gf about it #and hearing her say “yeah honestly I myself am comfortable enough that I don't really need more *stuff*” #tapu irlposting

[matryosika]

NCT127 + NCT DREAM: When they first slide it in

Members included in order — Jaehyun, Mark, Haechan, Johnny, Jeno and Jaemin. Genre — Smut headcanons (18+) Wordcount — 1,100 words Includes — Fem!Reader, suggestive content. Mentions of penetrative vaginal sex, use of petnames, dirty talk. Author's note — First NCT post! This was completely inspired by Juno's (@hyunsvngs) post on OT8 (skz) and the faces they would make when sliding it in. It's such a good read and if you missed it, pretty please go check it out! Wanted to do my own version with some NCT members, so here it is. This is mostly to try and fight back my writer's block, but I hope you all like it.

Jaehyun: 

Eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly parted, definitely. 

He is the type to let out quiet but deep sighs, and keeps his gaze fixed on where your bodies connect —when he first slides his dick inside of you, he needs to watch. He loves to see how your pussy swallows him full, loves to see it disappearing inside of you. If he is fucking you in missionary, his head would fall down to enjoy the show. But, as soon as he bottoms out, he is quick to lift his eyes up to see you. He needs to see your facial expressions, to hear those gasps and whines you let out whenever he hits the deepest spot between your walls. 

Big fan of kissing your jaw and neck while he waits for you to adjust to his size, all whilst emitting quiet but deep groans. I honestly sense he is the type to ask you a question or two before moving inside of you, like a sweet “are you okay?” or “are you ready?”. But like in a whisper, barely even letting the words out. When you just nod, he hums, looking for your approval. “Mhm? Can I fuck you now baby?” 

Mark: 

It really depends on his mood. 

If he’s acting all dom, like he is in control, he would try to act in control of himself as well —eyes close shut, and teeth digging on his lower lip. He is also definitely the type to whisper a long “fuck” as he bottoms out for the first time that night. But when Mark is too needy, and desperate, and he doesn’t really care about holding himself back, that’s when you see his true expressions when he first slides his dick inside you: hazy, lost gaze. I should add that he is also most likely to go a bit crossed-eye/blank eyes right before closing them slowly, immersing himself in the feeling. I can actually hear him saying “shit, just like that baby,” as your walls squeeze him just right. He would try really hard to make eye contact with you, but can you even blame him for not being able to? I just know his dick is always too sensitive, and it takes all effort within him not to come right then and there after first sliding himself inside you.  

Haechan:

Oh he really fucking tries to hold himself back. Much more than he would like to. 

Haechan tries to appear all collected, but he can feel his heart beating on his throat and his cock twitching when the tip is barely even in. He is the type to slowly close his eyes, almost at the same time he slides his dick right in; also lets out a deep sigh along with all of it. He would pretend he is unaffected by how warm and slippery you are, but his hands would betray him shamelessly  —if he is holding you by your hips, he would grip them almost painfully; if he is holding your hands, he would squeeze them too harshly. I also feel like Haechan is the type to curse under his breath or whisper things to himself when he first feels your walls clenching tightly around him. A “so fucking tight” might escape his lips, or an almost whiny “oh God”.

Johnny: 

He talks you through it.

It’s not necessarily because I see Johnny mostly as a dominant, but I feel like he loves to take the lead in situations like this. He is the type to make sure you’re really comfortable, that he feels just right inside you. All of his psyche is focused entirely on you, so it’s no surprise that he can control all of his facial expressions and body language to admire and take care of yours. And because he is so in control of himself, I can’t really picture any instinctive or involuntary gestures from him. Nothing but one: a fucking deep, almost predatory gaze. His eyes never leave yours.

If, by any means he cracks, I can picture him as one to slightly part his lips and let out a quick gasp. 

If he sees you crying, or whining, his eyebrows would go from a straight line to a subtle furrow and he would want to know how you’re feeling, “too much?”, “slower?”, “talk to me, pretty”.  I can also almost see his jaw getting tense when he bottoms out, feeling how your walls are squeezing his dick ridiculously aggressively, “want me to stretch you out for me?”, “You’re still so tight, baby. Weren’t my fingers enough?”

Jeno:

One word: veins.

I can honestly picture Jeno’s facial expressions in such a very specific way. He is definitely the type to let out a somewhat twisted smile when he feels how tight you are for the first time that night, the veins on his neck and forehead/temple becoming too prominent as he tries to regain the control your body has taken away from him.

Cheeks and nose flushed, and a really piercing gaze that makes you feel so small —whether you’re on top or underneath him. Jeno would be damned if he loses eye contact with you, he is the type to fix his gaze on yours as he slowly bottoms out inside of you. Also asks you questions to make you realize how cock-drunk you’ve become, despite him being barely in: “did you miss it, baby?”, or “how badly you want me?”. He doesn’t expect any kind of answer from you whatsoever, but he still scoffs under his breath when he sees how fucked out you’re by so little. 

Jaemin:

Eyebrows so furrowed, eyes closed shut and lower lip caught between his teeth.

Jaemin definitely lets out a deep groan, or even a desperate whine, followed by a sweet “oh baby”. He slides his dick in and bottoms out painfully slow —to tease you and himself, of course. Like Jaehyun, only when he bottoms out does he open his eyes to see your face in pure bliss; he might even offer you a complicated, small smile at the sight of pain imprinted on your face. He takes his time prior to fucking you, and he just enjoys the feeling of your cunt cockwarming him. If your eyes start to tear up because of the big stretch his dick is providing you, I can definitely see him as the type to wipe your tears one by one while he gives you words of affirmation. Also feel like he is one to give you instructions on your position to feel his cock better. “There, baby. You’ve taken me before, open up your legs for me more, yeah?”

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #jaehyun smut #mark smut #haechan smut #johnny smut #jeno smut #jaemin smut #kpop smut

[writersdrug]

Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 3

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Warnings: mild cursing, boredom, thas really it

A/N: Holy shit I cannot believe how much love this is getting, and it's so much fun to write!! I've decided to makes this a fully fledged fic instead of just a drabble, and I'll be posting it on ao3 too! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Also sorry if formatting changes, I'm trying to have some sort of order among my writing.

Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.

You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.

You decided to phone a friend.

"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.

"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."

"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."

You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."

"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"

"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."

"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"

You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."

"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."

You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"

"You know it! Nina's coming too."

You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."

"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."

"She'd better be. Love you!"

The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...

Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.

"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.

She sighed and looked away.

Maybe it was time for a walk.

"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.

"Fancy a walk?" You asked.

She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."

On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.

"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.

You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"

She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.

Oh, right. Military dog.

"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.

For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?

You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.

Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.

"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"

She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.

"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"

She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"

------------

Simon sat stoicly on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.

Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?

He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.

"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.

"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.

"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"

Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."

"Who'd ye get?"

"What's it to you?"

"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"

"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.

He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.

But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?

Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.

...

Fuck.

He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...

He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.

------------

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae @cum-tea-and-towels @boystepper @definitelynotaclown @your-wifes-boyfriend @ghostslittlegf @bossva @poppingaround @yannvi @katzykat @mileyraes @chocolate-noodles @jupiternighties @sadlonelybagel @rorysbrainrot @identity2212 @pricescontroversiallyyoungerwife @reevesdriver @kingshitonly @ghost4love @lilyofhoon @xxkay15xx @cosmic-nuisance4 @danielle143

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #cod fanfiction #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #cod x reader

[rissouu]

could you do a plug! eren x reader where eren gets super overprotective 🩷

yesss ofc! im sorry this took a while i just had to get some damn motivation 😭 i been slacking.. my bad pookies!

his hands stayed wrapped around your waist as you walked through the mall, he promised to take you on a shopping spree. and right now the only thing you really needed were shoes— so foot locker it was.

it was like eren could sense all the stares you were getting, in his eyes those tiny ass the shorts you wore barely covered up anything.. (he was just being dramatic, the shorts weren’t that tiny but he still hated them.) he made a mental note to toss the shorts out as soon as you two made it home.

he tried getting you to change before you guys even arrived at the mall, but of course you weren’t going to listen to him— you never did. that’s one of the characteristics he loved about you but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

when you finally reached the famous shoe store, you couldn’t hide your excitement. you’d always been a sneaker head after all, always having the newest pair of dunks or jordan’s, a lot of people envied you because of it honestly, but oh well.

you couldn’t resist snatching out of eren’s hold and practically running towards the shoes on display. the dunks that you’d been wanting for months finally dropped, and you just had to get them before they sold out.

“ma you know how i feel ‘bout you walkin’ off on your own,” he made his way back over to you, annoyance evident on his face. eren hated when you did this, he wanted(needed) to be by your side at all times. why couldn’t you understand that?

“im sorry babyyy, i just really need to check if they have my size!” you bent over to take the shoe off the rack— completely forgetting that your shorts were the type to rise up when you did so.

you didn’t think too much about it and stayed in your current position— throughly inspecting the shoe. the color looked better online but shit, it was still cute.

eren eventually got tired of standing, he knew how you got when it came to shoes. he’d be standing there for a whole damn hour fucking with you, so he just sat down on one of the benches used to try on shoes.

he always got so bored coming to stores with you because you always tuned him out and wandered off on your own. you were addicting to shopping and even more addicted to shoes.. the only thing he could do was sit down and go on his phone, since you’d clearly be taking forever.

you were so focused on the baby blue shoes that you hardly even noticed anyone’s presence behind you, turns out one of the workers had been eyeing you for quite a while now.. waiting for his chance to make a move. your beauty caught him off guard and he knew he couldn’t let a fine thing like you just walk away.

“hello welcome, did you need help with- oh god damn..”

that was enough to finally get eren’s attention off his phone as his eyes snapped towards the scrawny dude licking his lips— enjoying the sight of your shorts working against you.

with a low chuckle your man stood from his seat, slowly inching towards you to make his presence known. he snatched you by your waist— easily causing your form to straighten out. he took his eyes off you for one second and you’re bent over with them little ass shorts on?

he had half a mind to just fuck you right here and now to let all these muh’ fucka’s know who you belong to, but luckily he had enough self restraint.

“i’ll kill you right now man, ion even play like that. better walk yo’ ass on somewhere,” eren slightly lifted his black tee— flashing his gun that was strapped on his waist. he roughly yanked you behind him so the fucker wouldn’t dare to look at you again, and the only thing you could do was let him.

not that you would’ve resited anyway, you loved when eren got aggressive like this (not that you’d ever admit it).

“o-oh that’s you? i apologize i didn’t-“

“’fuck up talkin’ to me yo, you got five seconds to walk away before i put a bullet in you.” one death glare from eren was enough to send the worker running off in fear.

you stayed silent because you knew better than to say anything when he got like this, you were in for it once you got back home.. that’s for sure.

“fuck those shoes, we’re leaving. and as soon as we get in the car i want them shorts off,”

#malora’s works! #req’s 💋 #inbox answered <3 #whewww let me know how i did yall idk how i feel about this #yes this is black/chubby reader but anyone can read #black y/n #chubby reader #black reader #aot x black reader #plug!eren x black reader #plug!eren x chubby reader #plug!eren #plug!eren x reader #aot x reader #aot x chubby reader #aot fluff #aot smut #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x black reader #eren jaeger x reader