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#like these specials were really not For Me which is fine. but lets get going cmon đŸ’Ș
abouttofillhisshoes · 1 day
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Lena!! ❀❀❀
I finally thought of a request for my fav MPIND Matty đŸ€­
Maybe something with girlie using a toy on him? Maybe a vibrator? Overstimulation perhaps?
-Sugar-coat-it <3 <3 <3
@sugar-coat-it This was supposed to just be a short blurb but i got way too carried away xx. hope u like it!!
Rush! - Matty Healy
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A/N: This was so fun to write!! MPIND Matty lives in a special corner of my heart i think i might never stop writing for him. @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff tysm for being my (half decent) beta reader and making sure this isn't totally shit. Enjoy!!
wc: 9k
content warnings: filthy, semi public?, but also not really, overstimulation, teasing, begging, dom! reader, most of the time, matty is a cocky piece of shite but we love him, grinding, bondage, marking, use of sex toys, specifically a vibrator, what else hmmm, both of them are high, so dubcon?, still in their right mind though, wow the content warnings are long
Everything reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap liquor, hints of Jimmy Choo’s ‘illicit’ lingering in the air around Matty. You scrunched up your nose at the scent, Matty obviously having doused himself in it while you were in the bathroom, straightening your hair. Soft music played in the background, Matty using his turn on the Ipod to put on some ambient stuff George had made (yup, George was a music producer now for some reason? Quarter life crisis vibes.) 
Adam was on his way, his little red Kia primed and ready for a good smoke sesh in some parking lot somewhere. It was nearly winter, which meant going outside was hardly an option considering neither you or Matty actually owned anything resembling warm clothing. 
“I'm not letting you wear my coat again. Remember what happened last time?” he says when he sees your ‘finished’ outfit; a pair of jeans and a sage green long sleeve top, adorned with white and beige rhinestones. How dare he even mention that day, the state you entered the house was completely his fault.
“That only happened because you booked it down the fucking street and left me there!” It was true. The two of you had been sharing his massive coat, both of your bodies easily fitting into it, up until he decided the last four blocks home were to be a sprint, and took his jacket with him.  
“TouchĂ©.” he grins as you shake your head at him. Fuck him, honestly. You tell him as much, his only reaction being a simple shrug of his shoulders, and his attention was back on his reflection in the mirror, carefully applying glittery purple liner to his eyelids, giving him a sort of emo-fairy look. Ross’d take the piss out of both of you, all dressed up to go smoke in a car on a wednesday evening, but you knew Matty already had some sort of comeback prepared, about how at least he groomed himself, and wasn't desperate to be a ‘proper’ lad (cue Ross chucking the nearest object he could pick up in Matty’s direction). 
Impatient as ever, you sigh loudly, trying to get Matty to stop hogging the shared vanity. You could always just go back into the bathroom, but his lightbulb was truly shit, and besides, most of the stuff he was using was yours anyway. 
Finally, you give up on trying to keep the piece, and promptly shove him off the chair 
“Stop doing yourself up and move-” he doesn't budge, hanging on to the edge of the desk for dear life, refusing to let you finish getting ready.  
“Violence is never the answer- Fuck off, christs sake, fine!” he whines like a child, getting up and throwing himself on the bed, and you cringe as it creaks loudly beneath him. 
“You love it when I hurt you, shut up.” you tease, watching the look in his eye dramatically change. “Not like this!” he shoots back, flipping you off before grabbing his Ipod, switching to something more punk, heavy drums and guitar filling the space. 
“TouchĂ©.” you repeat his own words back to him, and he rolls his eyes, sitting up. Taking the same brush, also using the same color, you frame your eyes with purple eyeshadow, trying your hand at a smokey eye. The two of you were matching more often than not, with Hann’s comments on it slowly getting on your nerves 
“You both look the fucking same, its like you’re clones.” he’d overexaggerate, just to get a reaction out of a easily riled up Matty. 
“D’you reckon Ross’ll have the good stuff this time? I can't deal with Hann’s bickering otherwise.”
You shrug your shoulders, looking at Matty from the corner of your eye. Maybe Adam’s comment rang somewhat true, seeing as Matty was wearing the exact same color scheme you were. Green Jersey top, definitely stolen from George, paired with blue, seventies style jeans, white and red trainers peeking out from beneath the too-long pants.
“I dunno, but we could go to the shop if it's shit, maybe get some wine?” you suggest. It was always 50/50 with Ross, and bad weed always fucked Matty off to no end, making him unbearable. Almost finished, you look around for your mascara, hands rifling through the piles of makeup littering the desk. 
“Where’ve you put the mascara?” you ask, slowly getting annoyed. 
“Left.” he answered curtly, engrossed in the newest edition of vogue. Sure enough there it was, bots of product caked around the cap. Coating your eyelashes with it, you hear Matty stand up and walk over to you. Setting spray topped off your look, and you run your fingers through your hair, smoothing it out. 
Matty isn't particularly strong, but then again, neither are you, so the strong hand around your wrist was useless to fight against, and you let him pull you up. Face to face with Matty, you quirk an eyebrow at him. What was he playing at? 
“You look absolutely gorgeous, darling.” you blush at the compliment, quietly telling him to fuck off, smiling as you see him grin at you. His brown eyes rake over your body, giving you a slow once-over, savoring the sight in front of him. 
“Stop looking at me like that-” he cuts you off with a tug of your hair, smashing his lips against you. Surprised, it takes you a solid few seconds to properly kiss him back, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the kiss. His tongue immediately shoved past your lips, licking into your lips with fervor, drinking in every small gasp for air. 
“Taste like sugar as well, so sweet.” He pulls you back in, deliberately not giving you an opportunity to answer. You feel his hands wander, trailing down your back and under your shirt, caressing your bare torso. His fingers toy at the band of your bra, teasing the clasps. Refusing to let you go, he presses your body flush against his, and you can sense every inch of him on your skin, like electricity, the smell of him travels up your spine, intoxicating. 
The buzz of your phone snaps you back into reality. The guys, your plans. It takes every ounce of self control in your body to press your hand to his chest, effectively separating the two of you. Matty looks at you with a hurt expression, hands quick to cup your face, desperate to taste you again. Shaking your head, your voice is slightly as you tell him that the others are already outside. 
“I haven't seen George in like three weeks. You're not the only person in the world, you know.” George was up to his eyeballs in Uni coursework (yes, Uni), and hasn't been able to hang out since forever, making you really miss him. 
“I could make you feel like i'm the only person in the world, have all your attention on me.” he says with a wink, tracing your collarbones over your shirt. Matty was a hard person to say no to, with the way he peered down from above you, eyes wide, silently begging you to just stay.
“No.” you say firmly, grabbing your bag from the chair you were previously sitting on and slinging it over your shoulder. Instinctively, Matty takes it from you, holding it out of reach. 
“Can't have you carrying your own bags, what would people think?” he teases, pushing past you and out the door, his footsteps heavy on the carpeted stairs. You follow him, heartbeat finally starting to slow. Already at the front door, Matty waits for you to tug your boots on, leaning against the coat rack as you did. 
“What the fuck was that about, anyway?” The way he kissed you was passionate, hot, and definitely not something you just do on a whim. He tries to play innocent, raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders. 
“Nothing, just wanted a peck.” he answered, running his fingers through his slightly damp hair, still not fully dry from the shower he had taken a few hours prior. You scoff, looking at him in a ‘are you serious?’ type way. 
“You fucking jumped on me, don’t be a such a dickhead.” you feel around for your cigarettes and light, smiling fondly as you realize it's the one Matty had gifted to you. “What was your end goal? You know we’re about to meet with the others!” 
“I’m sorry for kissing my girl, jesus,” he exhales sharply, hand reaching for the doorknob, a loud honk sounding from the other side. Swinging the door open, Hann looks truly fucked off as the two of you walk down the driveway and climb into the car. Now usually, you would sit in the middle, between George and Matty, letting you comfortably lean forward to talk to Ross and Adam in the front, but it seems as though Matty had other plans. 
Shoving past you, he settled into the middle seat, setting your bag on the floor next to your leather clad feet. George looks over, slightly confused at the new seating arrangement, but accepts it, going back to rolling the first spliff. The car starts, sputtering before actually turning on, Hann letting out a sigh of relief. There had been multiple occasions where his ‘precious baby’, as he called her, refused to start, leaving all of you stranded until Ross somehow managed to find the problem and fix it. 
“See, this is what I mean,” Hann gestures to you and Matty, facing primarily Ross “They look like fucking clones of each other, its weird.” Matty reaches past the headrest and tries to smack him, causing the car to sway slightly as his hands leave the steering wheel.
“I’m trying to drive, fucks sake.” Hann mutters, pissed off now that Matty had almost made him crash the car. You set a firm hand on the dark haired boy's shoulder, lightly pulling him back into his seat. His legs are firmly pressed up against you now, and you feel a familiar tingling sensation blossom under your skin. 
“Try to go steady, ‘m almost done.” George has this legendary talent of being able to roll the perfect spliff in even the most impractical situations, making him a god in Hann’s eyes. The car slows down slightly, and you see George lick the spliff closed, admiring his work. Matty immediately snatches it out of his hands, grinning from ear to ear as he sniffs at it, the smell filling his senses. 
“God, you’re so fucking weird, mate.” Ross grimaces as he eyes Matty, watching him try to evenly light the spliff, failing miserably. Both you and Ross couldn't stand the earthy, stuffy smell of weed, constantly begging Hann to roll down the windows whenever someone decided to smoke in the car. Matty, however, had some sort of hash-fetish, and absolutely loved the smell of it, hotboxes being his favorite activity ever. He thought it heightened the experience, which was a load of shite, but he believed in nonetheless. 
You were almost there, the Mcdonald’s parking lot being your end destination. Taking the scenic route, the five of you passed the spliff around, partially skipping Adam so as to not get him completely off his tits while he was driving. Matty agreed to rolling down the windows, seeing how nauseous Ross looked, with you not being far behind. Wind raked through your hair as you leaned your head onto the edge of the car.
Feeling at ease, peaceful and very, very high, you don't even notice Matty’s hand trailing up your thigh. He was just like that, touchy and overly affectionate with everyone, not just you, though, the type of affection did differ slightly. Scratching your skin lightly, you feel his fingers claw at the thin material of your jeans, grabbing hold of your panties through them. Your eyes snap up to meet his, and he pulls suddenly, letting go of the elastic. It hits your skin with a muffled smack, and you jump, noticing Ross’ eyes on you, peering over his shoulder. 
Slightly disoriented, you don't even register Matty wrapping his fingers around the base of your neck, pulling you in for a hot, definitely too passionate kiss. Yelping in surprise, you sigh, almost inaudibly, into the kiss, letting him take control for a few seconds. George groans as he spots the two of you, dramatically shielding his eyes. 
Realsing where you actually were, you pull away, shooting Matty a look that can only be described as ‘what the actual fuck was that?’. His skin is flushed, matching the color of his droopy eyes. Hann doesn't seem to have noticed Matty’s little PDA stunt in the back seat, blissfully unaware of the reason Ross was grimacing right now. 
“I'd rather not see you snog, thanks.” Ross spits out, making a fake gagging motion as his eyes meet George’s, equally as unsettled as he was. Adam hadn’t seen the two of you, but the mental image was enough to make him join the other two in their disgust. 
“What, you jealous mate? You can ask to join, it's no problem.” Ross laughs sarcastically, taking the spliff out of George's hands, taking a deep drag. He could sense Matty wasn't finished yet. 
“You’d have to shave first, can't have you shedding all over my girl.” You still weren't used to him actually calling you that. It felt off, especially with your three other best mates staring at the two of you, silently wishing Matty would just shut the fuck up, for once. He was killing the soft, chilled out atmosphere with his incessant loud babbling, making George roll his eyes until you were sure they were going to get stuck there.
Ignoring the various groans of protest, he pulls you back in, basically climbing on top of you now. You giggle, partially because of the distinct floaty feeling clouding your mind, and partially because of Matty’s complete lack of shame, making him snog your face off just to rile up his mates, not really knowing how much it affected you. You pretend to be annoyed, shoving him off of you, wiping your mouth to really drive home the point. 
“For the love of god, Matty, stop humping her, she's probably sick of you by now.” Hann says, making sympathetic eye contact with you in the mirror. He knew how you felt about the kissing in front of the rest of the group, not wanting to alienate them from you and Matty’s dynamic. The whole thing was a complicated mess. 
His hand is still on your thigh as you squirm around a bit, you manage to gather your thoughts and speak for yourself. 
“I quite am, fuck off, Matthew.” he tenses. 
Now, to anyone else, you sound completely normal, if maybe a bit fucked off. Purposefully putting distance between you two, Ross reaches back and hands you the almost done spliff, and you inhale lightly, finishing it off. Matty is uncharacteristically quiet and you know he can feel your eyes on him. A warning. 
He was prone to acting out like this, loud and obnoxious, almost bratty. To Ross, George, and Hann, this was normal, his fits a cry for attention, wanting all eyes on him, but to you, it meant so much more. 
Stubbing out the joint, you throw it out the window, dangling your arm down the side of the car. George was calm, collected, and seemed to be enjoying life as Adam finally parked in your usual spot, turning the car off. Spreading your legs out more, you bump your thigh against Matty’s, making him twitch slightly, a soft smile spreading onto your face. 
“Matty.” you say, his eyes darting up to meet yours.
“Mhm?” nudging him, you lift both your legs up and onto his lap, draping yourself over him. George is a bit startled, but guides you over his lap as well, letting your feet settle against the other side of the car, pressed up against the door. 
“Fag?” George asks, holding out a pack of cigarettes in your direction. You happily take one, and so does Matty. Placing it between your lips, you watch George as he hands Matty his lighter after he lights his. His fingers fumble a bit, before finally flicking it on and inhaling the smoke, letting the nicotine mix with the weed, his face nothing but blissed out. It reminded you of what he looked like when he-
“Here.” he mumbles, holding the lighter in front of your face. 
“Do it for me?” you ask sweetly, leaning your elbows against the back of your seat and the headrest of Hann’s, making yourself comfortable. His breath hitches as you shift, the bottom of your thigh pressing against his crotch. Two can play at that game.
The flame paints his face in an orange hue, and you feel the world close on around you. The way his delicate hand holds up the light to your cigarette makes your head spin, and not just from the weed. You feel George shift beneath you on the other side of the car, rifling through his pockets, pulling out a small baggie and rolling papers, getting to work rolling another spliff. 
Hanns voice rings dully in your ears, asking George to hurry up a bit, saying he was nowhere near the level of high he wanted to be at right now.
“Let me do it, stop nagging.” George's movements are slower, his motor skills definitely more than just slightly inhibited. 
“Good?” Matty asks, your attention turning back to him. His eyes are glazed over, red and half closed, and his hair falls over his face, indicating he’s long overdue for another haircut. Mattys hands settle on your knees, rubbing small circles over the bone, warmth blooming underneath your skin wherever he touches. You refused to let it show, opting to lean your head further out the window, admiring the stars glimmering above you, the cold of the night biting at your cheeks. 
Matty can tell you’re cold by the way you shiver slightly, and he feels a bit bad, even if he did tell you to bring some sort of extra layer. 
“I’m fucking freezing.” you state to the car, Ross turning around to face you, lowering his seat back a bit despite Georges protests. 
“There's a blanket in the back, I think.” Hann nods in agreement, confirming his statement. Knowing you wouldn't be able to reach, Matty blindly feels around for it, fingers meeting a slightly scratchy, but still soft, knitted blanket. 
Draping it over you, his hands linger on your waist, goosebumps forming on your skin as his nails graze your tattoo. 
George is finally finished with the spliff, and hands it to Hann so he can light it. He greedily inhales, letting the feeling overtake him. A soft groan leaves his lips and you see the back of his head slouch against the headrest, lolling off to the side. 
“This is some good shit, no wonder Matty’s so quiet.” Hann mumbles, half to himself. 
“Told you, my guy’s the real deal.” Ross says with pride, like he’d grown it himself or something. Putting his feet up on the dashboard, he leans back, head craning to talk to Hann. Their conversation is quiet, meaningless, with Ross going on about his stupid bass instruments and chatting pure shit to a half dozed-off Adam.
George is in his own world, gazing out the window and off into the distance. He was tired, you can tell by the way the rings under his eyes were dark and prominent, evidence that he hadn't been sleeping much these days. Uni was truly kicking him in the arse. 
A loud sigh from Matty makes you snap out of your thoughts, flexing your toes a bit, trying to stretch without bothering George too much. You feel a tap on your leg, telling you it's fine, and that you can move freely. George smiles at you from across the back seat, stoned out of his mind and looking like he was ready to pass out in the next five seconds.
“Y’alright?” you ask Matty, who keeps shifting around beneath you. One particular movement makes your legs spread, his big palms gripping the side of your left thigh, kneading the flesh. 
His eyes flash up to yours, and the look he gives you is fucking delicious. Lips slightly parted, wet and swollen from his teeth gnawing at them for the past half hour, the sight makes your thighs clench, a cough escaping your lips.
The spliff makes its way to you, and you take a drag, your lips wrapping around it as you make direct eye contact with Matty. Your lipgloss rubs off on the filter, and you hand it to him with a smirk.
“I’m fucking knackered, I need to sleep.” George's deep voice cuts through the silence, and Hann nods in agreement.
“We’ve been here like an hour! We never hang out, let's stay for a bit.” Ross protests, sitting properly and trying to face everyone at the same time. 
“Yeah, let's.” you side with him. Matty’s eyes widen at your statement, and he goes to speak. A sharp look makes him rethink his actions, and he slumps backwards into the leather, pouting at you. You grin at him playfully, seeing him start to do the same, before pressing your leg down, right onto his crotch. Underneath the blanket, not one could see what you were doing, giving you the perfect opportunity to fuck with Matty 
“Fine, but I'm driving home in 20, whoever doesn't want to walk is coming with.” The tinge of annoyance in Hann’s voice is painfully obvious.
Time passes at a snail's pace as you continue your movements, thigh pressing down onto his steadily hardening cock ever so slightly, not wanting George to figure you out.
“D’you reckon Britney’s a good shag?” Ross asks, and you realize he’s holding a magazine, Britney Spears plastered onto the cover.
“Mate, maybe you shouldn’t-” George starts, but another voice cuts him off. 
“Probably, I mean, just look at her.” it's Matty speaking, you realize. 
His voice is drawn out and deep as he holds out his hand, silently requesting Ross to give him the paper. He’s taunting you, and fuck, is it getting to you. The way his eyes scan over the cover makes your blood boil, and you stare him down, warning him to stop. 
“She’s fit.” He says, refusing to look at you as he takes a drag from the spliff, passing it on. His eyes finally dart over to yours, reading you like an open book. You were jealous, and he knew it. It was his goal, after all, to rile you up enough so you knew how he’d been feeling since that moment in your room. 
“Hey Hann? I'm feeling a bit shit.” you lie through your teeth “Can we go?”. Ross tries to stop him, but with the vote being 4-1, he groans as the car sputters on, and Hann backs out of the lot. 
You go to sit normally, putting as much distance between you and Matty as physically possible, not even looking in his general direction. Not really speaking to anyone, you listen to the soft sound of the radio, the music distracting you a bit. Matty’s eyes are glued to you, watching your every reaction, you can feel it. He silently begs you to stop being mean, ignoring him like this. You almost cave. Almost.
The drive feels longer than it actually is, George being dropped off at his house first. He waves goodbye through the window, which is the only reason you turned to the other side. Eyes avoiding the boy next to you, you blow George a kiss goodbye, hoping he gets some actual sleep tonight. 
You and Matty were now both facing forward, chatting to Ross. 
“Must be great, having an whole fucking house to yourself.” Ross grunts out, clearly still fucked off that you decided to leave so ‘early’. 
“It is,” Matty answers, telling him how nice it was to live without his parents and with you, even if neither of you had the ability to prepare an edible meal, or clean the house every once in a while. You chuckle as his words, painfully true as you think back on the state you’d left your room in, clothes and books and various items strewn about the place.  
Matty turns to you, your small giggles at his story making him think he was off the hook. You shoot him a look, and he immediately retreats, knowing it wouldn't be that easy. Not that he didn’t like a challenge, especially from you.
“Alright, you two.” Hann breathes as the car comes to a halt in front of the house. The soft rumble of the engine was deafening as you opened the door, climbing out of the vehicle. Matty followed quickly, almost banging his head against the roof, narrowly avoiding a small concussion. You tapped on the window, waving goodbye to both men in the car. Flashing a smile, you turn to Matty, grabbing his hand and leading him up the steps. 
Inside the car, the conversation quickly shifted. 
“What's going on with them? They’ve hardly spoken since he stopped trying to jump her bones in front of us.” Ross just shrugs, mind spinning different scenarios of what could've gone down. 
“D’you think they’re fighting?” Hann nods, noting that you did look a bit pissed off towards the end. 
“I dunno, it's weird though.. them being a thing.” Ross hums in agreement. 
“Just leave them be, they’ll sort it out.” 
The click of the door unlocking was as loud as a jet engine, and you push it open with your shoulder, Matty trailing closely behind you. You take your time, taking off your shoes, setting your bag down onto the floor next to the coat rack. He fidgets on the spot, not quite sure what to do next. 
Without warning, you spin around, shoving him backwards into the door, both your hands on his shoulders. The tension is thick, his heavy breaths loud and desperate for you to fucking do something. 
A beat passes between you before he finally speaks, stuttering over his words. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t h-have fucked you off, not infront of everyone.” you raise your eyebrows at him, a condescending smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 
“So you knew what you were doing then, trying to rile me up like that?” He nods, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows. He mutters out another “‘m sorry”, like it was going to save him at all. 
Your hands trace his collarbones, just like he had not three hours prior, and you see his breath hitch when you dig your nails into his skin, leaving behind red indents. 
“You wanna kiss me?” you ask, tucking his hair behind his ear sweetly, letting your fingers run over his jaw. 
“Yes.” he gasps, your chest now fully pressed up against his, your bodies now flush. Mattys eyes are filled with desperation, lust, thoughts clouding his mind and the sight of you wasn't helping him think clearly. 
“How badly do you want to kiss me?” he tries to speak, but you shush him. “How much do you want to touch me?” 
A guttural groan leaves his lips, and his hands find your back, grabbing onto your waist for support. You look at him expectantly, tapping his face to get his attention back on you. 
“Please, I'm sorry, just– fuckk, please darling.” His voice is small, soft, filled with want and desire. He pulls you in closer, and you feel him, fully hard, pressed up against your upper thigh. Your hand travels lower, pushing his shirt up as you go down, fingertips ghosting over his bulge, leaking and painfully hard. 
“This all for me?” Matty looks like he’s going to combust, but still, he manages to force out a small, choked ‘yes’. 
“You think you deserve it?” He freezes as you squeeze him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in your hand. A desperate whimper rips itself from his lips, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing shallowly.
“I’m sorry, just– please. I’ll do anything, just fucking touch me please, please, oh god–” 
You mouth at the spot where his neck meets his jaw, sucking an aggressive hickey into the skin, simultaneously stroking him over his clothes. Trying to seem unaffected, you pull away from his cock, placing that hand over his chest, hearing him whine at the loss of contact. 
“Upstairs. Wait for me.” Those four words manage to leave him absolutely breathless as he scrambles to tug his shoes off, throwing them into the corner. One last look is directed at you over his shoulder as he walks up the steps, almost tripping. Catching himself on the bannister, he disappears from view. 
You use the moment to take several deep breaths, steading yourself. Matty might be the more expressive one, but he had this effect on you, even if he didn't know the full extent of it. Every reaction you elicited from him made your knees weak, your façade of control slipping slightly. Running your fingers through your hair, you glance at yourself in the hallway mirror, making sure you look good. Good enough to send Matty fucking spiraling. 
The house is silent, apart from the odd creak of the floorboards underneath your feet. The door to your room crashes against the wall and you push it open, eyes immediately finding Matty.
Jesus christ.
Sprawled out on top of crumpled sheets, Matty’s eyes rake over your body, his cock visibly twitching in his pants at the sight of you. He had already taken off his shirt, the material bunched up next to him. The atmosphere in the room is heavy, thick with lust and desire and want and every other adjective that could be used to describe the fucking wet dream of a man currently sitting on your bed.  
His hands trail up his chest, toying with his nipples as he bites his lip at you, a wild look in his eyes. Your feet take you to the foot of the bed, kneeling down onto it, not quite sure where to look. His skin is flushed a deep shade of red, the blush spreading from his face down his chest, which was rapidly moving up and down as you reached out to touch him. 
“How do you feel?” your voice shakes, and you know he can tell. Does it actually matter to you at the moment? Absolutely not. 
An indecipherable sigh leaves Mattys lips as he looks at you, curls sticking to his forehead and his cock rock hard against the fabric of his jeans.
“I feel–” he starts, words getting caught in his throat as you trace the inseam of his pants. You still, motioning for him to continue.
“I feel so good, please touch me, I need you so bad. So gorgeous like this, love you so much– jesus.” 
You listen to his rambles as his eyes screw shut, everything being far too much for him. It's delicious, the way he squirms under even the slightest touch, involuntary noises spilling from his lips.
He trusted you, and you knew that well enough. Your entire relationship was built on a foundation of trust, a promise that you would never, ever, harm each other. Your hand reaches up to clasp his, squeezing gently. He smiles softly, wiping away the beads of sweat that had collected themselves on his forehead. 
Your eyes glance over to the nightstand next to the bed, the wooden exterior a stark contrast to the otherwise black furniture of the room. The bed creaks as you get up, slowly pulling the drawer open. Matty watches you move, fluid and sure, as you take out a vibrator, you hear a small gasp escape him.
“You want me, Matthew? Want to be good for me?” you grin at him, throwing one of your legs over his lap, settling right below his hips. The way his cock is straining against the zipper of his jeans couldn't be comfortable in the slightest, but you let him suffer longer, relishing in the way he whined whenever you shifted on top of him, just like he did in the car. 
“Will you let me use this on you?” That question is the final nail in the coffin, an animalistic groan ripping itself from the depths of Mattys throat as you palm him through his pants, beads of precum painting the front. 
“Please,” his voice cracks slightly, eyes silently begging for some sort of relief. 
“You know, you really shouldn’t have pulled that little stunt.” you speak, voice dripping with honey as you unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal making your heart speed up. Unable to speak, Mattys hands go to settle on your waist, gripping the fat of your hips. 
“No.” 
“W-what?” 
His chest heaves as you grab hold of his wrists, pinning them up above his head. The belt he wore with his pants, while usually completely unnecessary, suddenly proved quite useful. Your hands fumble a bit as you bring the leather up, binding his hands to the metal bed frame. The arousal plastered on his face was impossible to hide as he gives the belt a tug, sucking in a deep breath of air when he realized what you’d just done. 
“You’re so fucking– holy shit, you’re perfect.” his praises go straight to your core, and you grind down onto his thigh, feeling around for the vibrator that you’d placed somewhere next to you. 
Towering over him, you observe. 
It feels like you're daydreaming, the man in front of you just a figment of your dirty, vivid imagination. His skin glistened with sweat, and your eyes flicker down to the bulge in his black calvins. If there was a heaven, you’ve definitely reached it. 
Running your fingers up and down the vibrator, you grin at him, watching his thoughts run wild, every possible fantasy playing out right in front of his eyes. Clicking the toy on, you rake your nails over his chest, the loud vibrations filling the room. 
You had never done this before, but the utter look of devotion Matty gave you proved that he trusted you completely to do whatever you wanted to him. He follows your movements closely as you press the toy to the underside of his cock. Immediately, you see his eyes clamp shut, his hands instinctively pulling and fighting against the restraints. 
“You like that, baby? Feel good?” you coo at him, taking in every single twitch of his body, savoring it. He frantically nods his head as you move his boxers, letting his cock slap up against his stomach. The feeling of the vibrator straight onto his weeping erection felt like pure heaven, desperate moans spilling from his lips, unable to control his own actions. 
“F-feels so good, it’s so good, a-ah, fuck me–” he whimpers as you up the speed, your free hand cupping his face, smudging his eye makeup. Blissed out and shaking, Matty tries to hold off as long as possible, desperately wanting to be good for you.  
“I can’t– I'm so close, please, let me cum.” his eyes search your expression, begging for permission. Pleasure trickles up your own spine as a sudden movement of Matty’s thigh beneath you makes you grind against him again, a soft moan leaving your parted lips. You swear you could cum just from the sight of him alone, twitching and begging and so, so close to the edge he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. 
Shoving your fingers into his mouth, you watch as he chokes slightly, eyes welling up with tears. It's so unbelievably erotic, seeing him fall apart like this, all because of you. His dick twitches in the tell-tale way that lets you know he’s seconds away, just needing a little push. You lock your lips onto his neck, licking and sucking and biting marks into the skin, making him moan around your fingers. It's all too much for him, and his voice cracks once more before spilling into your hand, painting his stomach and the toy with ropes of thick cum, gasping and shuddering as you keep the vibrator against his cock, working him through his orgasm. 
You finally kiss him, fingers weaving through his hair as you lick into his mouth, his arms still helplessly trying to pull free. 
“That was– fuck– I can’t even describe it.'' His voice is raspy, sore. He looks utterly fucked out, a sly grin already adorning his face not ten seconds after you gave him the most mind blowing orgasm of his life.
“You dont think I'm done, do you? After the shit you pulled in that car?” 
Your sudden change in tone makes Matty’s eyes widen, his hips bucking up against you. The evil look in your eye as you lean down to catch his lips in a kiss only makes him impossibly more turned on, fingers itching to touch you, a groan of frustration leaving his lips when he realizes he can't do anything but lay there and take what you give him. You move, one of your hands leaving his chest. 
“What are you–?” The click of the toy is impossibly loud as a wanton moan rips itself from his throat, his hips twitching away, the sensation overwhelming and raw, almost too much. You grin from ear to ear as you study his reactions, writhing and pulling at the belt holding him in place, eyes silently begging you to just let him go.
“A-ah oh fuckk, no- I can’t–” he cries, arching his back, exposing his neck even more, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he tries to swallow down his sounds
“You can, I know you can.” you lick across the expanse of his collarbones, teeth grazing the skin harshly, the slight pain only making Matty thrash more, the leather of the belt digging into his wrists.
“It’s too much– jesus christ-” he chokes out as you tangle a hand into his thick curls, tugging his head forward, making him look at you.
“Look how desperate you are, you sure it's too much?” you press a kiss to his lower stomach, his muscles tense under the skin.
“I need you so bad, fuck,” he sucks in a deep breath, making direct eye contact with you.
“Look at what you do to me.” 
His sudden change in tone makes you take a second, truly taking in the sight before you. He smirks when he sees you staring, arching his lower back with the sole purpose of riling you up, knowing exactly how to get to you, and in turn, get what he wanted. 
“Such a slut, fucking begging for attention, aren’t you?” he nods slowly, winking at you provocatively as his eyes follow your movements. The name made his breath hitch, and the return of the toy back on his hardening cock feels like pure ecstasy, moans and whimpers spilling from his lips as you continued speaking. 
“Was it worth it?” he cocks his head at you, asking what you meant. 
“Was it worth it, fucking around in the car, embarrassing me like that?”  
“Absolutely, if it gets me this.” he purrs, trying to provoke you once again. You were going to make him eat his words if it was last fucking thing you were going to do.
“You have a lot of confidence for someone who was grinding against my leg under a blanket not even an hour ago.” A small laugh comes from Matty as he playfully tugs at the restraints, the sound morphing into a moan when you press the toy down harder, feeling him getting close again. 
“Gonna cum again, make a filthy fucking mess of yourself?” Matty is so far gone, his cocky persona falling away in bits as he bucks his hips against the vibrator, chasing his high. You watch him, sweaty and out of breath, his hands straining against the leather, the mix of pain and pleasure making his head spin. 
“I love you so much, please let me cum, please i’ll do anything, just let me cum–” there it is. Anything. He doesn't know the weight his words hold, willing to say everything and anything for you to let him fall over that delicious edge.    
“Cum for me, let me see you.” your voice shakes, one hand planted firmly on his chest for balance, while the other holds the toy to his cock, twitching and leaking all over himself and you as he cums, screaming your name loud enough that it echoed through the whole house. 
You watch as he shakes, gasping for air and writhing against the sheets, so overstimulated he could barely form a coherent thought. 
“Again.” you whisper as Matty shakes his head violently, tears welling up in his eyes. 
“Do you want to stop?” he shakes his head again, hips bucking up against the toy, desperate whines and groans filling the room. His chest heaves, lungs expanding as far as they could go to try and bring some oxygen to his brain. Breathless and exhausted, he looks at you, eyes wet and pleading, the mix of pain and pleasure driving him insane. 
“Don’t s-stop.” he begs, voice sore and hoarse. Thoughts run widely through your mind, wondering how much more he could take before tapping out. “If you need to stop, tell me.” you say firmly, his frantic nods telling everything you needed to know. Clicking the toy back on, the reaction is immediate, visceral as he jerks under the warm feel of your lips on his jaw, pressing hot kisses down the skin, mouthing at his neck. 
Pulling back, you admire the deep purple marks you left behind, tracing them with your free hand. 
“You’re fucking glorious- I- I could look at you forever, so pretty on top of me, fuck, like a fucking wet dream, so perfect–” you listen to him babble through curses and moans, eyes drooping shut as he bucks up into your hand. 
“Yeah? You’re so gorgeous for me, taking everything I give you.” you whisper back, pupils completely blown out with lust, the high you were still yet to come down from heightening every feeling, every sensation, until you were grinding against his thigh, desperate for him. 
“I see you, baby,” your eyes snap up to his, a filthy smirk spread onto his face, “C’mon, use me like a toy, use me to get off.” his voice is sultry and low, working hard to bite back screams as you finally give in, sparks of electricity shooting up your spine as you increase the pressure on your clit, soft moans and gasps spilling from your lips as Matty tenses his thigh, lifting it slightly to meet your movements. 
“Don’t cum until I tell you.” you warn, refusing to give up power, even if Matty made it incredibly fucking difficult to not give in. His eyeliner was smudged, tears streaming down his face, your fingers wiping them away sweetly. You bring your tear soaked hand to your mouth, licking it clean while making direct eye contact with Matty, the expression on his face making the salty taste on your tongue completely worth it.
It didn't take much to bring you to the edge, the warmth in your core blooming everywhere else in your body, your blood feeling hot as you balance yourself. Being met with Matty’s smirk as you look up, the smugness quickly morphs into white hot pleasure when your hand finds his nipple piercing, giving it a small tug. 
You had convinced him to switch it out, the black metal ring being replaced with a purple barbell. It shimmered if you looked at it from a specific angle, a perfect contrast to his milky white skin, suiting him well. He gasps when you don't let up, tweaking the metal and rolling his nipple between your fingertips, an indescribable feeling radiating from his chest, making all the remaining blood in his brain rush down south. 
You were so close, you could taste it. Matty knew this, doing his best to get you there, just as you were doing for him, holding off his own orgasm. Filthy words leave his mouth, making you feel dizzy with pleasure, the feeling of his jean clad thigh against your clit making your legs shake on top of him. 
“So good, you’re so good– fucking marvelous, I could write a thousand songs about you like this.” he groans, eyes never leaving the spot where your core met his leg, watching closely. 
“I’m so close, fuckk.” you whine, your high pitched voice like music to Matty’s ears, his cock visibly twitching against the toy. 
“Cum for me darling, wanna see you fall apart on top of me.” he coos, and you feel your control slipping. It was all consuming, the pleasure making time slow as you barely manage to slow down to speak. 
“You first.” A relieved sigh leaves Matty’s lips, hips bucking violently, precum bubbling from his tip, coating your hand where you held the toy against it. One last arch of his back and he cums onto his stomach, painting his skin white. 
You groan at the sight, your own orgasm hitting you like a freight train, vision whiting out as you buck against Mattys thigh, his eyes burning a hole into your skin. He watches in awe as you gasp and stutter, the visual of his third climax too much for you to handle, carnal desire overtaking your body. 
Collapsing on top of him, your chest heaves against his, everything blurry and disoriented. He tried to move his hands to your back to hug you, but realizes he’s still tied up, the leather really digging into his skin, leaving angry red marks. 
“Darling?” you look up, apologizing profusely as you undo the belt around his wrists, kissing the burns it left behind. Matty chuckles quietly, running a soft hand through your hair, pressing your face into his chest. 
“That was..” he starts, eyes still wide in disbelief. 
“Okay?” you offer a hint of insecurity evident in the way you speak.
“Fucking amazing, visceral, undescribable, life chang-” you cut him off with a firm kiss, silently telling him to shut up. He giggles into the kiss, his other hand pressing against your lower back, pulling you impossibly close. 
“It wasn’t too much?” you ask, gesturing to the marks on his wrists. He shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He assures you it doesn't hurt at all, and besides, “You know I like it when you hurt me.” The cheesy wink that follows his statement makes you roll your eyes, leaning down to breathe in the scent of him. Fucking Jimmy Choo, ugh. 
“You have to stop using my perfume, you smell like a woman, it's unsettling.” you complain, wishing he’d use some sort of musky cologne instead. 
“I thought you liked it when i'm girly? Remember that time when I wore that skirt and you fucking mauled me–'' he tries to tease, being rudely interrupted by you digging the heel of your foot into his leg, making him yelp in pain. 
“That was different,” you mutter, avoiding his taunting gaze. 
“Was it?” 
“Absolutely, yes, now come here.” you grip his jaw, crashing your mouth against his, biting his lower lip, enjoying the small gasp he lets out. The kiss is hot, filled with love and trust, your heart swelling up in your chest. 
“Don’t ever pull that shit again, George could have noticed and that would've been a complete shit show-” you shudder at the thought of your mates knowing anything about your sex life, gagging inwardly.  
“You were the one grinding your leg down on to my dick, don’t act all fucking innocent!” he protests, a playful tone to his voice. 
“Imagine Ross knowing anything about what we do, he’d lose his mind.” you comment. Knowing him, he’d physically throw up and never speak to either of you ever again, the mental image having scarred him for life.
Matty is oddly silent, his hands fidgeting. Your eyes widen in realization 
“Dont tell me you fucking– Matty!” you shut your eyes, embarrassment flooding your body. 
“He’s my mate, and he asked. Who am I to deny him?” you hit his chest, propping yourself up as you laugh in disbelief. 
“Ross asking doesn't make it any better!!” you screech, watching him pull back at the sheer volume of your voice “For fuck’s sake Matty, what did you even tell him? I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye again, fucking hell.”  
“Just about the camera, nothing else, I swear!” you cup your face, letting out a frustrated groan. 
“You know I can never speak to him ever again? The fucking camera, are you taking the absolute fucking piss?!” you throw curses at him as he giggles into your hair, muttering apologies and promising to never say anything again.
“‘M sorry darling, i won't give out the details of our sex life anymore.” he jokes, earning a choked giggle from you, unable to stay mad at him. 
Looking up at him from your spot on his chest, anger fades as you take in his features. You could look at him forever if he let you, drinking in every inch of skin, committing it all to memory. Your fingertips touch the top of his cheeks, wiping away any left over make-up, smiling fondly as you do so. 
Love. That's what you see in his eyes. Pure love, utter devotion. His breathing is slow, the soft sound of his heartbeat comforting as you lay back down onto him, nuzzling your face into his skin. You could stand the permeating stench of Jimmy Choo if it let you hold him this close to you. 
“You’re mine.” he mumbles into your hair, stroking up and down your spine, pushing your shirt up. 
“I’m yours,” you answer, this overwhelming feeling of adoration taking over your whole body. Matty was yours, and you were his, from the second he said the words ‘I love you’ that night on the terrace, overlooking the glowing city. 
Life with him seems so real. Growing up properly, getting your own house, getting married. It was all possible, still, it felt far away, a distant future. You let your thoughts spin in your mind until the exhaustion won, your body going slack against Matty, soft snores filling the room.
Matty lays awake beneath you, the darkness of the room enveloping his senses. 
“I love you so much,” he mutters under his breath, knowing you couldn't hear him anyway. That was the moment he knew, the moment everything solidified.
You were just kids, the pair of you, young and free, life filled with infinite possibilities. So much was uncertain, but he knew one thing without a doubt. Eyes flickering over to his coat, they fell on the outermost left pocket. It wasn't about the pocket itself, but what was inside. Dark red velvet, the same shade as your favorite color. A box. 
A small one.  
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mummer · 5 months
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still sorting out how to feel about it but fuck ncuti was just insantly beyond all expectations. King
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libraryofgage · 6 months
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Good Vibrations Part One
Hello, it's me, back at it again with another Steddie AU.
Anyway, if I were tagging this AU, these would be the most important ones: Deaf Steve Harrington; Tooth-rotting Fluff; Getting Together
If you wanna be tagged in future parts, just let me know!
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)
----
Steve has blown through three pairs of hearing aids in the past year. The first pair had lasted a few years and needed replacement because of normal wear and tear. The second pair was sacrificed during that fight with Jonathan. He hadn't been wearing them, but they'd been in Steve's pocket, and he'd landed at just the right angle to feel them shatter. The third pair was taken by the Russians because, despite Robin's shouting and cursing at them for being dumbasses (and this was before she actually knew what they were for), they accused him of recording their kidnapping and torture.
Honestly, he wouldn't recommend fighting Russians and Billy and Mind Flayers and driving while nearly totally deaf.
The funniest part of it all, though, is that Steve doesn't even use hearing aids regularly. He normally only wears them at home. The pair lost to Jonathan were present because, well, that whole day had been a lot for Steve, and he needed the comfort of knowing he could stop reading lips the moment it became too exhausting for him. The pair lost to the Russians was because he'd been getting ready to tell Robin about being deaf. She'd already clocked the weird things he does (well, weird to her, normal to Steve), and he figured letting her in on the big secret would bring them a little closer.
Of course, that didn't go the way he expected. Robin thought he was confessing love and decided to beat him to the punch. That's how he learned Robin is a lesbian, and Steve couldn't let her be the only one admitting to something like that, so he told her about being bi and his long-standing, hopeless crush. And being deaf. But the bi with a crush thing seemed more important in the moment. She took it in stride, it brought them closer, and then Robin asked if Steve could teach her sign language.
Which meant that Steve had to learn sign language because he never had. Between not wanting to feel even more different than he already did and trying to convince his parents that, really, everything was fine and he didn't need to go to a special school for deaf and hard-of-hearing kids, he'd never learned. Learning it had somehow felt like an admission of weakness, and that was the last thing he wanted. But he learned for Robin, and they stumbled through sign language together, creating new signs only they knew.
But that's all in the past now, and Steve is working his ass off at Family Video to afford a new pair because he refuses to ask his parents for money. If he asks them, they'll come back, and that's the last thing he wants. They don't need to have all their worries confirmed that Steve is helpless, and he doesn't want them anywhere near Hawkins "Hellscape" Indiana.
So. Working his ass off, taking extra shifts, and babysitting the kids as much as he can to make up for the whole Friends and Family Discount he gives their parents. He's exhausted, but he gets to recharge somewhat during his lunch break.
About a ten-minute walk from the Family Video is a record store, which Steve has started visiting daily to just breathe. The lone worker in the store is usually too busy listening to her own music to pay Steve any attention, letting him wander and try to determine which records will best serve him.
Steve drifts over to the rock and heavy metal section, hoping to find a new album but unsurprised when he doesn't. He browses through them anyway, moving past Metallica and Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. He already has all of these albums on his shelf at home. He has the cassette tapes for them, too.
But he really wants something new. He likes the novelty of experiencing unfamiliar vibrations through the speaker, letting them thrum through his fingertips and into his bones. It's fun and relaxing, and after all the bullshit he's been through lately, he probably deserves something relaxing.
After glancing over a few more familiar albums, Steve sighs and glances at the counter by the door. The lone worker is standing there, headphones over her ears, and idly flipping through a magazine. She's chewing gum, and Steve braces himself for the sheer hell of trying to read her lips without making it obvious he's reading her lips while she's got something in her mouth to disrupt the normal shape of words and sounds.
But he has to try. Steve takes one more deep breath before walking over, shoving his hands into his pockets when he comes to a stop at the counter. The girl raises a hand, motioning for him to wait, so he stays quiet as she finishes reading her page. She flips to the next one before looking up, not making any move to pull her headphones off.
"Hi. Do you have any new rock or metal albums coming in soon," Steve asks, feeling the vibrations of speech in his throat and hoping his words aren't too loud.
They don't seem to be. The girl doesn't flinch or pull back. She just looks him up and down, taking in the polo shirt and the nice khakis and the Family Video vest he forgot to take off before leaving. Finally, her neck and shoulders jerk slightly, and Steve knows she's huffed in annoyance. "No," she says, the word clear enough in the shape of her lips for Steve to know it immediately.
He frowns slightly, his fingernails digging into his palms. Steve wouldn't mind just leaving now, but something keeps him there. He just...he really wants new music. He needs something new. "Are there gonna be any shows nearby?" he asks.
The girl rolls her eyes and says something, her mouth distorted by gum-chewing. Steve can barely make out the words "you" and "check" from her response. Thankfully, it's accompanied by a vague gesture at something behind him. Steve looks over his shoulder to see a bulletin board with flyers plastered across it.
"Right. Thanks," he says, nodding to her before walking over. The flyers are all different colors with various fonts that scream for Steve's attention. Some of them are for bands, some are advertisements of garage sales or instruments in need of a new home, and others are just business flyers from stores nearby.
He's seen the bulletin board before, but he's never actually paid attention to it. Steve has always been laser-focused on browsing the records. But now, Steve carefully reviews each flyer advertising shows. Some are for comedy shows, which he immediately dismisses. One seems promising, but then he sees how far it is, and Steve definitely can't do an overnight trip like that.
Finally, Steve sees a flyer advertising a show at the Hideout later that week. It's close enough that he won't be out overnight. The place is kind of seedy, but Steve figures he can find some corner near the stage to hide. Or he can bring Robin and let her help him navigate any potential social situations. He tugs the flyer off the board, gaze lingering on the "Corroded Coffin" emblazoned across the top.
He knows the band. Of course, he knows the band. He's extremely familiar with their singer. From a distance. Honestly, Eddie Munson probably doesn't have the best impression of him, but Steve's heart never really cared about that. Because Eddie is like everything Steve wants to be: he's loud and unafraid of being so, he doesn't care about his image and how others perceive him, and he looks like his laugh sounds beautiful. Steve wouldn't know if he's actually right about that last point, but Eddie throws his head back when he laughs, eyes crinkled and hand over his stomach like his muscles ache.
His mouth suddenly feels dry, but he's also filled with unprecedented courage. Steve has graduated (barely), and that means a significantly lower chance of running into Eddie during the day if watching the show somehow goes wrong.
Steve folds the flyer into quarters and stuffs it into his back pocket. He'll be overly aware of it being there until Robin starts her shift and he can show it to her, but that's okay. He throws a quick thanks over his shoulder as he leaves the shop, glancing up at the bell he can't hear that signals the door's opening. He vaguely remembers what bells are supposed to sound like (he'd heard a few before losing the ability to hear them), but he doesn't let himself dwell on it.
Instead, he focuses on the trip back to Family Video, keeping an eye on the road to watch for any cars he wouldn't notice otherwise.
----
When the final bell rings, Eddie Munson can't get out of class fast enough. He'd been packed for the last five minutes, and he slid out of his seat the moment that first peal rang out. He has a gig to prepare for, and every second counts. At least, each second counts until he notices something (or someone) that could prove entertaining for a while.
He spots Dustin alone near one of the exits, and Eddie decides to relieve the kid of his isolation. He waits until he's behind Dustin to shout, "Henderson!" and throw his arm over the kid's shoulders, ignoring the way he jumps like he'd been expecting an attack.
"Holy shit!" Dustin shrieks, jerking back to look up at Eddie. "Don't do that, man, you're gonna give me a heart attack."
Eddie snorts, waving away Dustin's concern as he continues toward the exit. The general flow of students trying to get out helps him along, and Dustin doesn't seem to realize they're actually moving until they've gotten into direct sunlight. "You're fine," Eddie says, "Anyway, whatcha doing all alone, Henderson? Lose your way?"
"No, I have...stuff to do today," Dustin says, shrugging as he blinks to acclimate to the sunlight.
Oh, yeah, way too cryptic for Eddie to not dig for more. "Stuff? What kinda stuff? Got a hot date? Going shopping with your mom?" he asks, and then he gasps dramatically and moves to stand in Dustin's way. He puts both hands on his shoulders and very seriously says, "Be honest, Henderson, you're seeing another DM, aren't you?"
Dustin stares at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and shrugging his hands off. "Who else in this town DMs?" he asks, "Other than Will, I guess, but he's still working on a campaign."
"Fair," Eddie concedes, "so, whatcha really doing?"
After a few seconds of getting nudged by the students around them, Dustin sighs and says, "I have chores, okay? But that doesn't sound cool to say, does it?"
Fair. Eddie nods in agreement and moves out of Dustin's way, continuing to follow him. "So, what, your mom picking you up today?" he asks.
"No, Steve."
"Oh, the famous Steve."
Dustin nods, looking over the parking lot before pointing to one end. "Yeah, he's awesome," Dustin says as Eddie follows the direction of his finger.
And standing there, leaning against the hood of his car and looking to the side where a group of trees is swaying in the breeze, is Steve Harrington. Steve "The Hair" Harrington. King Steve. The worst thing, Eddie thinks, is that Steve looks good. His hair is still perfect, of course, and his stupid little striped shirt is pulling against his biceps and riding up just enough for Eddie to see a tiny sliver of tanned skin above his jeans. He looks a little tense, but Eddie chalks that up to him being back on the campus after already graduating.
"Harrington? You've been talking about Steve Harrington this whole time?" Eddie asks, his voice a little strained, "How the fuck do you know Steve Harrington?"
"He's my babysitter," Dustin says, his voice implying that much should have been obvious, but Eddie wants to grab his shoulders and shake until his head rolls off.
Steve Harrington doesn't babysit. He doesn't know nerds that talk about D&D. He doesn't drive nerds around. At least, he never did in high school. Granted, Eddie never actually talked to Steve, but everybody knew that Steve Harrington was too cool for, well, anything that wasn't the typical jock and popular guy shit.
As he's thinking about the last time he saw Steve Harrington (in the halls, while the guy had bruises and looked worse for wear), they get within shouting distance. And Eddie has zero impulse control when Wayne isn't around, so he doesn't think before shouting, "Hey, Harrington!"
Next to him, Dustin whips his head to glare at Eddie. And Steve Harrington doesn't fucking react. He just keeps staring at that group of trees like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. "Dude," Dustin says, grabbing Eddie's arm and yanking harshly, "don't shout like that."
Eddie frowns, anger beginning to simmer in his stomach at the complete lack of acknowledgment. "Why are you upset with me?" he asks, gesturing at Steve as he continues, "I'm not the one being a douchebag here."
Dustin opens his mouth, about to say something, only to snap it shut once more. He frowns like he's just realized he can't say something, and huffs with frustration. "Just...just don't do that," he finally says, keeping a hand on Eddie's arm and dragging him across the parking lot. And, yeah, something is definitely weird here.
Instead of just walking up to Steve, they make a large arch until they're within Steve's line of sight.
Eddie watches as Steve notices them, seeing Dustin first and pushing off the car. He relaxes for a split second until he sees Eddie and his shoulders tense again.
Great.
Once they're close enough for Eddie to count the moles above the collar of Steve's shirt, Dustin grins and says, "Hey, Steve." But it's odd, because Eddie has never heard Dustin talk this slow or this carefully, like he's doing his best to enunciate his words.
Steve flashes a grin and ruffles Dustin's hair. "Hey, twerp, you're late," he says. He then glances at Eddie, his grin becoming a little smaller, and says, "Hey, Munson."
Wait. Steve Harrington knows Eddie's name? And he called him by it? He said Munson, not Freak. Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds before nodding. "Harrington," he says, "how the fuck did you become a babysitter?"
Is he just imagining things, or is Steve looking at his mouth? Like, really intensely. He's definitely not, because Steve looks up after a few seconds with a raised eyebrow. "I needed some extra cash. Also, don't swear around Dustin. I'm the one who gets in trouble when he curses in front of his mom."
Something about the words makes Eddie grin. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he'd be talking to Steve Harrington. And he would have laughed you into Mordor itself if you suggested their conversation would be about Dustin Henderson swearing in front of his mother. "What's his mom do when he swears?" he asks.
Because he can feel the conversation veering into something potentially embarrassing for him, Dustin lets go of Eddie and starts pushing Steve toward the driver's side of his car. "Okay, we gotta go. So many chores, so little time," he says, his voice back to that normal speed and enunciation.
Steve frowns slightly, looking down at Dustin and tilting his head just slightly. "What?" he asks. Instead of actually answering, Dustin just makes some vague gesture with his hand and looks at the car. "Oh, right. Go ahead and get in the car. And, uh, see you later, Munson."
"Is that a promise?" Eddie asks before he can think better of it.
Steve pauses, looking at Eddie's mouth with a slight scrunch to his nose. He seems to be considering something as Dustin scrambles into the passenger seat, watching them with narrowed eyes. Honestly, Eddie is surprised he's not blasting the horn to hurry Steve up. Finally, Steve comes to a decision and meets Eddie's eyes again. "Your band has a show tonight, right? At the Hideout? I was planning to go. So, yeah, I'll see you then, I guess."
And with that, like he hasn't just fucking rocked Eddie's world, Steve Harrington gets into his car. He makes sure Dustin is buckled before waving at Eddie and pulling out of the parking spot.
Eddie finds himself waving back, staring dumbly at the car as it pulls onto the street. It only hits him a few seconds later that Steve Harrington is coming to his show. At the Hideout. His metal show. A Corroded Coffin gig at the Hideout.
Holy. Shit.
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churipu · 5 months
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jjk men when you wipe their kisses away (as a joke)
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featuring. itadori yuuji, megumi fushiguro, gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen x reader
warnings. cursing :>
note. i've seen this trend on tiktok in the past, and i feel like it's a really cute idea to write about it. hope u enjoy this :D
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ITADORI YUUJI. the first time you did it, he was like "oh? maybe they did it by accident" and the second time you did it, he was like "okay, this is no accident", but said nothing about it before planting another kiss on your cheek — and much to his dismay, you pretended to use your phone as a mirror and wipe your cheek, particularly the place where he just kissed.
"okay, baby, what did i do wrong?" he finally asks you, sitting straight up, "why are you not letting me kiss you?"
you almost folded, but you looked at him innocently, batting your eyelashes, "hm? i don't know what you're talking about," you tell him with a small smile.
yuuji brushed it off and then gave your cheek another peck, before he knows it, you did the same thing again — wiping the place where he just kissed and then he huffs out, "okay y/n, what is wrong with you? do you hate me now? are you breaking up with me?"
he looked like he was about to break down right then and there, so you figured it was time to stop. and then you laughed at him, pulling him into your embrace, "i'm kidding yuuji, it was a joke."
yuuji rolled his eyes and circled his arms around you, "i thought you were breaking up with me. don't do that again," pouty baby.
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. "why are you doing that?" he asks, and you arched your brow, pretending to be clueless of what he was saying. he shook his head, kissing your cheek (yet again), and to confirm his question, you wiped his kiss off again.
"that, i meant that," he said, "why are you doing that?"
"doing what?" you retorted back.
"bye y/n." he mutters out, obviously not wanting to play with this game of yours — and when you realized he was serious about this "bye" of his, you jumped up and grabbed his arm.
"i'm kidding gumi," you chuckled, and that was all he needed to hear.
megumi planted another kiss on your cheek, "wipe that again and i'm going for real this time," you didn't wipe it off (you were thinking about it though).
"can i have another one?"
megumi rolled his eyes, "no."
GOJO SATORU. hysterical right from the first time you did it, and was throwing a tantrum about how you shouldn't do that because his kiss privileges are special just for you and nobody else, yet this is how you treat him.
"baby, okay, no more kiss privileges for you. you're done, i'm done. we're both done." he mutters out, crossing his arms.
and when you didn't retaliate with his tantrums, he just had to try planting another kiss on your lips — to which you wiped off right after, and (dramatic) gojo takes that as a big insult. he gasps and pulls himself back onto the couch, sinking in with his brows furrowed and he glared at the floor.
"satoru?"
he grumbles under his breath about how everything was so unfair, how the world's such a cruel place, just being dramatic honestly. he glances at you before throwing his gaze to the side.
"satoru, you're such a baby."
again he gasps, "me? a baby? you started this!" lord, how much more dramatic can he get?
"give me a kiss, satoru."
he clicked his tongue, "no. i told you, you lost your kiss privileges."
you shrugged, "fine. i'll ask someone else for it then."
he folded and immediately threw himself on you, peppering kisses all over your face, "don't do that again, baby. why are you wiping my kisses off?"
you laughed, "it's a joke, satoru."
"i don't like this joke."
SUKUNA RYOMEN. caught on the first time you did it, and he grumbled under his breath about how you should be lucky he's willing to give you a kiss in the first place (he will do it all over again, no matter how many times you want it).
"what was that, ryo?" sukuna groans out when he sees your innocent e/c eyes looking at him, "did you say something?"
he said nothing, "i don't fucking like this shit you're playing with me," he said, facing away.
"what shit?" he glances at you, his eyes doing all the talk. and you laugh loudly at his reaction, "oh, you're so adorable," sukuna rolled his eyes, pushing your legs that previously was lying on top of his lap, "hey! come back."
"fuck off."
"give me a kiss, ryo." he ignored you, so you did it yourself — kissing his forehead, "don't be mad, it's a joke, honey."
he could tolerate your jokes about mostly anything, really (because he's madly in love with you), but never when it comes to jokes that could probably ruin your relationship (he never wants to break up with you).
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
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toxicanonymity · 9 months
Note
omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!
EVERY INCH 2
2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader
follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3
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SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his. A/N: He's never unmasked so ANY Ghostface with a 🍆. Thank you so much for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of the engagement & enthusiasm so keep that in mind. night walks coded. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, ghostface calls himself daddy once, peeping tom, dirty talk, masturbation (both), knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names (baby, sugar, nasty). NO USE OF Y/N. 
You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .
Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 
It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  
The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"
"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 
You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."
"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."
"What do you want?"
"I asked how you liked the movie." 
Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 
"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."
Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 
He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”
"wishful thinking," you reply. 
Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”
You’re not even going to argue. 
“How was your date?" 
"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.
"You didn't look interested.” 
"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.
"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”
You freeze. 
He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"
You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"
"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 
You scoff. 
". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"
"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."
"Pervert."
“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.
"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  
You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 
“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 
Are you that predictable?  
“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 
“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 
Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal
“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 
“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 
“Yeah, that’s it . . .”
You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 
He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.
You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 
"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 
He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?
“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 
"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 
You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 
“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 
You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 
“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 
“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”
“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.
“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 
“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”
You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 
—---
You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.
“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  
“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”
You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   
The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.
“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 
The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  
He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  
You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 
“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 
He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 
The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 
“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.
“Who are you?”
“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.
“What do you want?”
“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 
He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 
The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 
“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 
He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.
“Good girl,” he says.
His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 
------
Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.
“Now where’s my knife.”
“I don’t have it,” you claim. 
“I don’t believe you.” 
“What’s so special about it?”
“It’s mine.” 
“The cops have it.” 
“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”
You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 
He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.
NEXT: PART 3
--------------------------
Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.
Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.
Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense đŸ„č
@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.
Slasher master list
@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 9 months
Text
Bumping Beach Bikini - Rooster
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw / Wife!Reader
Word Count: 0.8k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Pregnancy; References to Sex/Suggestive Jokes; Flirting; Use of Second Person POV “You,” No Physical Description of Reader (Minus Pregnancy), No Y/N
Summary: Rooster admires the view of his pregnant wife on the beach.
Master List
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Bradley had a mental list of the best outfits that he had ever seen you in. There wasn’t a set ranking, just general levels of appreciation.
There was a step above your normal beauty and allure, which mostly included random casual outfits that for whatever reason just got him going. Like the yellow sundress that you wore when it was exceptionally hot out that was super easy to slide his hands under. Or those jean shorts that he loved to slip his hand into the back pocket and give your ass an appreciative squeeze. Or anything of his that you chose to wear.
And the step above those were your slightly dressier outfits that got him even more excited. The backless black dress that you wore out in Vegas when the two of you went out with the Dagger Squad. Or the blue floor length dress that you wore to Maverick and Penny’s wedding that looked like it was literally sculpted for you and your figure. Though he did rip the zipper on that one.
Then there were the more special outfits. Your wedding dress mostly, since he literally burst out into tears the second that he saw you step out in it. The photo of you that he kept in his cockpit was from your wedding day with your veil spread out around you, giving you a completely angelic appearance. And, well, Rooster was also very fond of the matching white lingerie set that you wore underneath it that night too. He did rip that one too though.
And at the very top of the pyramid of his favorite outfits was, of course, your birthday suit. Nothing would ever top that one.
But seeing you in a maternity bikini with one of his Hawaiian shirts wrapped around your shoulders and your baby bump sticking out from between the folds of his shirt—now that was a sight that he ingrained into his mind for the rest of his life. That one really challenged your birthday suit in his mind.
“What?” you laughed, shooting your husband a look as you applied more sunscreen. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re glowing,” Bradley praised, still taking in your beauty.
“With sweat,” you giggled, rubbing in another layer of sunscreen. “It’s only spring and I swear I’m melting already.” You set down the tube of sunscreen and shot your husband a playful look. “You just had to make sure that I was heavily pregnant during the hottest months of the year in Southern California, didn’t you, Bradshaw?”
“Maybe you should have done the math before you begged me to get you pregnant,” Bradley replied, a bit smugly.
“I don’t beg,” you scoffed, shooting him a look. “And besides you offered about fifty times before I let you. If anyone was begging, it was you, Bradley.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Rooster mused, smiling over at you.
There was one rule to surviving with a heavily pregnant wife—it was to let you win. On just about everything. Anything health or safety wise, he would argue back, but Rooster took a rain check on all of the little things. And frankly he got more satisfaction out of seeing you happy than being right.
“Do you have enough water?” Rooster asked, sitting up some more.
You reached over and lifted your giant water bottle into the air. Taking a long sip from it just to prove your point to your husband, you set your water bottle back down on the sand.
“I’m fine. Just need some time to relax,” you replied, leaning back in your seat. “Before it all really sets in.”
Reaching down to pick up your ankle, Rooster started to massage your foot, earning a sigh of relief from your lips. Practically melting into your chair, you turned to your husband with a small, thankful smile as you curled your toes a bit.
“I could get used to this.”
“I’m sure you could,” Rooster chuckled, rubbing the back of your calf.
“There’s only one thing that would make this better.”
“What?”
“Take your shirt off.”
“Mrs. Bradshaw,” Rooster jokingly admonished, causing you to smile wider. “Be careful suggesting that. I knocked up the last woman who asked me to take my shirt off in that tone.”
“I’ll take the risk,” you replied with a smile, rubbing your bump slowly.
“So long as you understand the risk,” Rooster returned with a wink.
“Jesus Christ, the rest of us are trying to eat here,” Phoenix cut in, sounding annoyed.
You and Rooster turned to the other Daggers, Maverick, and Penny, who was hiding an amused smile behind her hand. Maverick turned to Penny with a similar expression, shaking his head. But most of the other Daggers, those who were single anyways, shot both you and Rooster somewhat disgusted looks.
“Sorry,” you called sheepishly, waving to them.
“I’m not,” Rooster replied, reaching up to take his shirt off.
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pokegalla · 3 months
Text
Requested/trade by @veiled-rebel
First ever Hazbin hotel headcanons lets gooooo✹
How Touchy Can They Be In Public With Slightly Large Chested S/o!
Angel Dust:
* 

..ok yes he’s a pornstar so obviously he could care less. All of hell watches his videos. Him doing something promiscuous as grabbing some booba ain’t really a surprise-
* Doesn’t mean he’s going do it without making sure you’re actually comfortable with it though! If not, he’ll never do it again (he’ll make excuses but we all know he’s a softie-). But if you are comfortable? Good luck. He’ll hug you from behind a lot and give a biiiiig squeeze- hell he’ll let you lay your head in his own fluffy booba! It’s only fair✹ (your nickname is definitely now sugar tits and you cannot go against that)
* In private he’s actually a LOT cuter. He loves nuzzling in your chest and giving it so many smooches. He just finds you so cute and he doesn’t hold back on his flirts. But surprisingly they are much more sweeter! “Awww la Mia dolce metà is blushing agaaain~ Am I making yah that excited~?” He laughs when you blush more.
* Ooooooo but now you wanna be wearing a boob window?! Oh you HAVE to be teasing him baby~✹ and he is not above taking you to the nearest hotel for a little
.detour~
* Hey you dated a pornstar pal. You kinda should have expected this! But hey
.you’re also the only one who gets to see his soft side too.
Mini story time!!!
Man you were fucking bored. Which is ironic considering how hectic hell can be. But what could you do right? You sinned and now you’re in this shithole, rotting away year by year
..oh? You felt someone hug you from behind. And that familiar squeeze that made you blush-
“ANGEL-“ the yelp made your lover laugh.
“Got yah sugartits! Next time get yah head out of yah ass! Unless it’s on mine sweetheart~” he winked at you and laughed when you got flustered.
But
.you take one of his hands and it made him smile. Genuinely smile. Well
.Hell may be a shithole.
But at least you’re not alone in it❀
Husk:
* Eh honestly he’s more of a gentleman here. So not as touchy. Little to none actually.
* But he does get a little more protective. I mean it is hell, perverts and assholes come in by a dozen. He’ll snarl at anyone getting a little too close or have a spare jacket just to drape over your shoulders. Quite a sweet gesture coming from the grump himself✹
* In private he surprisingly is still hesitant to even look there as he thinks it’s rude. You have a face don’tcha? He prefers looking there. But if you tell him it’s perfectly fine and lay him on your chest? He will stay right there because he is a blushing mess. Might earn a few purrs if you give him head scritchies✹
* Now despite being a gentleman, he knows when you wanna dress up for him. So wearing a boob window will have him peeking more
.and he might actually mention it! “Looking good. Dressed up for a special occasion?” But he’d have a little mischievous smirk. Oh trust me. You are definitely having a special occasion tonight now~
* He may be a grumpy cat, he’s still a softie at heart. And only you know best.
Mini story time!!!
Yeah maybe wearing this top to the club was a terrible idea. So many creeps and assorted assholes were everywhere and they couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t you just walk around without someone staring at you like a piece of meat
.? But that’s when you felt someone wrap a jacket around your shoulders before leading you out of the club.
“Husk
.? What are you
?” You were shocked to say the least.
“I told yah NOT tah go to this club. Lotta bad eggs in there
.” He grumbles as he kept you close to himself.
You were surprised he came at all
.you sigh and lean against his shoulder, making him stiffen but sigh, rubbing your back comfortingly.
At least you have him around ❀
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sunflower-lilac42 · 4 months
Text
✧ 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐧 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝, 𝐈'𝐩 đ€đ„đ°đšđČ𝐬 đ“đĄđžđ«đž | luke hughes (feat. quinn + jack) ♔
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summary: the relationship between the hughes brothers is special, but the bond between quinn, jack, and luke’s girlfriend is something else or four times quinn and jack were there for luke's girlfriend when she couldn’t tell luke or luke wasn’t availble
warnings: finals (physics), stress, crying, mean comments, threats, fighting, car breaking down/running out of grass, being followed, angsty + fluffy, asshole luke
notes: happy almost (or now) new year everyone! i still have three hours (central time different fr). for the finals one you can pick whatever you want but i suck at physics so i put that but you can put math or something related to your own major if you want, also I gave you a 4.0 bc i can and it made sense for this. I tried to do as much with quinn and jack but my luke side was coming out a lot in the second and last one.
nhl masterlist | main masterlist
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The One with the Finals | Quinn ~ Winter of 2023
The day before her physics final, y/n was in tears. There were papers not only all over her desk but on the walls and the ground as well. The whiteboard that hung in her apartment was littered with kinematics equations and a bunch of random vocabulary words that probably weren’t necessary for her final. 
More tears sprung in her eyes as she looked at her review guide, “Who the fuck knows this shit?”
Her roommates had already gone home, finishing their finals the day before so she was alone. It was almost 7 and she had been studying for six hours, maybe more. She knew she should stop and take a break, make some dinner, maybe even watch a movie, but she couldn’t, not now, not when her grade was on the line. 
She was so close, oh so close to being done but the last question was too much for her. It sent her brain into overdrive, the wires were crossed, and nothing made sense anymore, not that it ever did anyway. She let out a noise, a cross between a groan and a whine, and threw her notes down and her pencil across the room. 
She took a peak at her phone and noticed the mass amount of messages from her boyfriend, a few from her parents, and a few from Luke’s family. The boy was so worried that he made his parents and Quinn and Jack text her just to see if she would answer, but she didn’t.
Now, no offense to Jack (but offense) and no offense to Luke, but they weren’t always the brightest of the bunch. Which is why she called Quinn, tears still obviously present.
“I’m going to fail.”
“Y/n? Luke’s been calling you for hours.”
“Yes, I know. I was studying for physics, and I’ve concluded that I’m going to fail.”
Quinn sat up from where he was lying on his bed, “No, you’re not.”
She let out a sob, “I am and then I’m going to get kicked out of school and everyone’s going to make fun of me and then Luke won’t want to date me anymore and then you guys will stop talking to me-”
“Hey! Calm down, none of that is going to happen because it’s not possible, y/n/n. What’s your GPA right now?”
“A 4.0.”
Quinn laughed, “Stop being so hard on yourself. You’re fine. I promise you, but if you feel that badly about it, I’ll help you study.”
“Really?”
“No, I’m fucking with you. Of course, I’ll help you. You’re my favorite sibling after all.”
“I’m not even related to you.”
“Yet.”
Y/n sent the PDF of the review guide to Quinn, who now sat at his desk on his computer. The two talked and studied with one another before Quinn realized the lack of color in the girl’s face, “Have you eaten yet?”
Y/n looked at him and then quickly looked down shamefully, “No.”
Quinn looked like he was going to yell at her but in reality, he was just worried, and the tiniest bit frustrated with her for not taking care of herself, not that he would ever tell her that though, “Go make dinner, you can bring me with if you want. I’ll even make my own.”
“But-”
“No, you’ll think better if you eat.” That could’ve been a total lie, but she would’ve listened to him anyway.
She took her phone and computer with her, still talking to Quinn as she made some ramen - the good kind, not the crappy instant one. Quinn smiled, happy with himself for making his brother’s girlfriend - or if he had it his and Jack’s way, his sister -  take care of herself and feel better.
àŒ¶â€ąâ”ˆâ”ˆâ›§â”ˆâ™›
She had just gotten done with her final and she screamed internally, walking out of the room and heading to her dorm, waiting for her family to pick her up. She called Quinn immediately after she stepped out of the building. 
“Quinn! Quinn! Quinn! Guess what?!”
Quinn had been on his way to practice when he got the phone call, “What?”
“I passed!”
Quinn smiled, “See I told you, you would.”
“Thank you!"
✧àŒșâœŽàŒ»âˆž
The One with the Haters | Jack ~ Fall of 2023
It never really bothered her, and Luke always said it shouldn’t. Yet, when Luke started his rookie year and gained more attraction, so did she. They were worse than what they were before, they came in mass amounts, the words dug deeper, and everything seemed to escalated. 
This wasn’t something that should’ve burdened Luke, he had enough to deal with it being his rookie season and trying to perform as well as he could, he didn’t need to hear about his fans attacking his girlfriend as well. Luke was, let’s just say, the most oblivious of them all. So she didn’t really have to worry about him finding out about it, anyway.
However, Jack knew about her mood changes. Every time she visited the two in New Jersey, she distanced herself from them, she took notice of who was around them when they went out and strategically sat next to Luke so people wouldn’t make accusations of her favoring Jack over him but not too close to him that it would seem like she’s attached and overbearing him.
He also took notice of the comments on his brother’s Instagram posts or whenever the wags would post y/n at a game. 
‘He’s too good for her.’
‘Why does she even come? It’s obvious he doesn’t want her there, he doesn’t even play well when she’s there.’
‘She’s just using him.’
‘7 don’t know what he sees in her.’
‘She’s not that pretty.’
Those barely scratched the surface of the comments. There were more, most about her looks and another good chunk of them just saying how the two didn’t make sense together. But the ones that hurt the worst, were the ones that came up once or twice in every ten posts. The ones that were about her using him, the ones that made threats to her and her family. The ones claiming that they knew everything about her life. The ones that said she was cheating on Luke with Jack or Quinn.
Jack had his fair share of hate comments, many of which he remembered from his rookie season. He knew how it felt to have someone close to him be praised so much and then be torn down for simply having a relationship with them and not being as good. 
The Devils were visiting Detroit near the late end of November and y/n decided to go to the game, hanging out with them the two days that they flew down early to be with her before the game. They were out at a restaurant and y/n was sitting in the very corner of the booth that they got.
Luke sat down next to her as Jack slid into the other side of the booth, still bantering with his brother. Luke was oblivious to the distance between him and y/n, shrugging it off as if she was just hot. Luke and Jack continued to talk about the game, stopping for the waiter to take their order who just so happened to be a fan of the Devils. Y/n rolled her eyes as she subtly flittered with her boyfriend, giving Jack a look. 
The waiter walked away and Luke got up and left to the bathroom, “So when are you going to tell him? Or are you waiting for him to figure it out by himself?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/n dug her face into the menu, avoiding eye contact with Jack.
“Uh huh, sure. Then what are these?” Jack showed the girl his phone, comments from Luke’s most recent post showing. 
“Jack.”
“Y/n.”
“There’s not much he can do about it anyways, they’ll keep doing it no matter what. Besides, they’re not wrong.”
“He has a right to know and no, nothing they say is true. You are Luke’s world and he will defend you until he dies. If someone is threatening you, which there is, he will find a way to stop it. And Quinn and I will help too. We want you safe.” Jack reached over the table to pat her shoulder. 
She nodded, “Just talk to him. Okay?”
àŒ¶â€ąâ”ˆâ”ˆâ›§â”ˆâ™›
Later that night, Luke was in bed with y/n, both of them on their phones. Luke was playing a game and y/n was on Instagram. She hadn’t actively searched out the comments but when she saw a post of her with 200 comments under it, she had to look, and they weren’t all that different from what she was expecting. 
“Luke?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I talk to you about something?”
“Of course, what’s up?”
“Have you seen the comments?”
“What comments?”
“These.” She handed Luke her phone and watched as he scrolled through them, and before he could say anything, she took it back and showed him her DM’s. 
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? We could’ve done something to stop this.” She just shrugged.
“Sweetheart, this is scary. I don’t you to have to endure this by yourself, nonetheless.”
“It’s fine, I’m fine.”
“But you’re not. I know everyone thinks I’m oblivious, and yes, sometimes I am, but I can see you’re hurting and you have been for a while. I might not have known why or how but I was so worried about you, okay? I’m going to do everything I can to stop this.”
Luke placed his hands on her face and she wrapped her hands around his wrists. His thumbs lightly rubbed over her face, just under her eye, as hers rubbed up and down his hands, stopping at his knuckles to rub over them as well. She smiled slightly at him but was still worried about everything that was going on. 
“Hey,” Luke made her look up at him. “Everything is going to work out, no matter how long or how much it’s gonna take. I’m going to get Quinn and Jack to help, I’ll have the team help as well. We’re all going to help to make sure you and your family are safe. I promise.”
She nods, “Okay.”
He kissed her forehead before her lips and pulled back to smile at her. 
✧àŒșâœŽàŒ»âˆž
The One with the Car | Quinn + Jack ~ Summer of 2023
Despite dating for three years, y/n was never really the biggest fan of letting Luke help her, she wasn’t the biggest fan of anyone helping her, to be honest. That’s why when she was in the middle of nowhere, scared out of her mind and not thinking straight, she hesitated to call her boyfriend. 
It was the summer, she had been visiting the Hughes family at the lake house and she had gone to get some food for dinner for her, Quinn, and Jack. She wasn’t lost per se, when she left she knew how to get back home, she had been there countless times before. Yet, she felt as if she was being followed and that scared her, causing her to go a different route home, one she wasn’t that familiar with, and even then she sort of knew where she was. 
The car was still following her so she decided to start taking random turns here and there and when she did the trick she was taught, take four right turns, they left after the first one. She let out a deep breath and continued to drive, just to see if they would pop up again, but they didn’t and now she was in the middle of nowhere, with an almost empty tank of gas. 
Back at the lake house, Quinn, and Jack sat in the living room. Ellen, Jim, and Luke decided to go out for dinner to a fancy restaurant, and the whole nine yards, the other three weren’t bothered to even move from their seats. In hindsight, should they have just gotten Uber Eats or DoorDash, yes, but y/n wanted to get out of the house, just to a certain extent.
She didn’t want to interrupt her boyfriend’s time with his parents so she called Quinn, voice wavering, “Quinn.”
“Hey, y/n. Where are you? We thought you would be back by now.”
“About that. I’m sort of in the middle of nowhere and there was this car that was following but they stopped but I also don’t know if they just left and are coming back because they knew I was onto them-”
“Hey, calm down. Send me your location, Jack and I are on our way. Keep us on the phone and if you see them come back just start driving.”
“I’m almost out of gas.”
“We’ll hurry, just keep a lookout, okay?”
Five minutes passed and the boys were almost already halfway there, speeding the whole way as much as possible. She looked up and in the rearview mirror, there were headlights, “Guys? Is that you?”
Jack and Quinn looked at each other in confusion, “No?”
“Well, shit.” Y/n turned her car on and immediately pressed on the gas.
The car didn’t follow her, simply turned on the street behind where her car had been, but she didn’t know that, so she kept driving until her car was out of gas, “I’m out of gas.”
“We’re almost there, you should see us, right
 about
 now.” She looked up and saw them, easily recognizing the car. She got out of the car and practically ran to them. 
Quinn hugged her back when her arms wrapped around him, “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did anyone follow you?”
She shook her head, “I’m fine, just still a little spooked.”
Jack stood off to the side and only now had y/n just noticed, “Hi Jack.” She looked at him tentatively. Contrary to her belief, Jack loved hugs, especially y/n’s hugs. She always thought differently, so she always hesitated to hug him. 
Yet, when he opened his arms, she ran into them just as she did with his older brother, “Thank you for coming to get me.”
“Always.”
✧àŒșâœŽàŒ»âˆž
The One with the Fight | Quinn + Jack - April of 2023
“I just don’t understand, Luke.”
“Of course, you don’t you never do!”
They had been arguing on and off all day, everything the other person did set them off, it was hours of pointless and petty arguing. Realistically, they both had been in the wrong, but Luke screwed up the most. It was when they both found out that he would be going to Jersey. 
She had scheduled plans with friends earlier that week, but she would’ve dropped everything to hang out with Luke and help him pack. She offered to do that but Luke declined, saying he could handle it and he wanted her to go out and have fun with her friends. Truthfully, they had been spending almost every waking moment together since they knew.
“You were to one that told me to go hang out with them! I offered to help you and stay with you, but you declined!”
“I never said that.”
Y/n gave him a look that said all the different, “You’re such a fucking liar.”
“Oh, I’m the liar?”
“Yes!” 
“If you loved me, you would’ve stayed back, anyways. And you know what? I’m done with this conversation. Don’t wait up.” Luke took his duffle bag and suitcase and left y/n’s dorm. 
She stared at the door as it slammed practically in her face. The silence was deafening in the room, you could hear the barking of dogs and horns blaring from outside. If you listened hard enough you could hear the wind slapping against the window. 
For two minutes she stood there, staring at the door, body still and her hair blowing from the AC. She snapped out of her trance when she felt a lone tear roll down her face. Since then, it was one after another and she ran to grab her phone from her nightstand dialing Jack’s number.
Jack answered confused, “Hello?”
“I think Luke might be on his way to Jersey.”
“But he’s not supposed to leave yet.”
“We got into a fight and he sort of-” She choked on a sob, “stormed out of here with his duffle and suitcase.”
“What do you mean you guys got into a fight? You guys never fight.”
“Yeah well ‘never’ is a fucking stupid word. And this is totally not the point of this phone call, Jack. Can you just make sure he’s okay? I don’t want him getting hurt or anything.”
“Luke’s a big boy and if he decided to come here on a whim then he can handle it. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Tears still were streaming down her face and she picked at her nails as she slid down the wall, landing on the floor. 
“What happened, y/n/n?”
“It was stupid, it was my fault.”
“You’re lying.”
“How would you know?”
“You’re voice is more intense when you lie because you try to convince everyone you’re right by sounding more confident.”
“So why do you know that and not Luke?” She balled to the older boy, placing her head in her hands, the phone dropping from her grasp.
“Y/n? Y/n!” Jack tried to gain her attention but failed, causing him to add Quinn to the call.
“Jack? Y/n? What’s up?”
“Y/n answer us.”
“What’s going on?”
“Y/n! Come on, please answer.”
“I’m sorry, I dropped my phone.”
“Can someone please explain to me what is going on? And where is Luke?”
“Luke fucked up is what’s going on,” Jack said, annoyed.
Y/n now sat against her bed and her phone propped up on the wall, switching to face time, “We got into a fight.”
“You guys never fight.”
“Yes, I’m aware, now can we move on from that fact because it happened and it’s over with.”
“Sorry, sorry.”
“He was mad because he’s supposed to be leaving soon and I went out with my friends after I had already offered to stay back and help him pack and everything like that but he said no. So, he’s right, it is my fault. If I loved him, I would’ve stayed.”
The was a simletanous silence from the boys before a loud, “He said that?!”
“Yeah? Why? Is he right? I knew he was right.”
“No, no, no of course not. He’s not right. He’s a fucking dick for saying that.”
“But I should’ve stayed with him, he’s leaving soon.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve.
“Y/n/n, listen to me right now. Nothing you did tonight was your fault. Maybe something that we don’t know that happened you did, but what he said
 you didn’t deserve that. He knows how much you love him and if he stooped that low to make you feel bad, then maybe he should take some time to cool off. I’m not saying that he should’ve left the way he did, but maybe some space is good.” Quinn explained to her.
She nodded but tears were still falling, “Do you think he’s going to break up with me? I mean, he’s going to go off and be in the NHL and I’m just going to be me. I’m nothing special.”
Jack and Quinn made eye contact through the phone and Jack went to say something but was interrupted, “You’re everything to me.” 
She snapped her head to the door and saw Luke standing there, his bag falling to the ground. She stood up quickly, wiping her face rid of any signs of her crying, “Luke.”
“How could you say that about yourself?”
Quinn and Jack hung up the phone, not wanting to interrupt their conversation despite them wanting to be there just in case he said something out of line. Luke wrapped his arms around the girl, “You are the most amazing person ever. I’m so sorry if I made you feel any differently.”
Y/n just shrugged, not bothered by that but more so the fight itself. Luke pulled back, saddened slightly by the lack of reciprocation in the affection, “And I am so sorry for what I said. I know you love me and I know I said you could hang out with your friends. I think just deep down I thought you would’ve stayed anyways and I was scared of leaving you.”
Y/n nodded and Luke’s hands went to her cheeks, wiping off the remnants of her mascara, “I understand, Luke. I just wish you would’ve handled it more like an adult than a teenager.”
“And I can’t even begin to explain how horrible I feel about that.”
“Can we just cuddle?”
“Anything you want.”
The two laid in better for a little while as they hadn’t wanted to do anything else. An hour later, y/n spoke, “I forgive you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“But I do. Emotions were high and I know that shouldn’t be the way we should handle things but we’re both stressed and you’re leaving soon I just want to forget about it.” Luke nodded, wanting to respect her wishes, “I love you, Lukey.”
“I love you.”
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months
Text
Constellations
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary - Azriel can't allow himself to stand on the side lines anymore and watch as yet another male tries to take you away from him.
Warnings - oblivious reader and Az, angst, pining, Az and Nes being cuties, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), lots of fluff, flirting
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There were constellations in your eyes.
That was what everyone had said when they'd first met you, alluding to the clear fact that you were a deep daydreamer whenever you sprang to topic, which was more often than you'd think.
Prythian bowed to you, everyone in every nook and cranny in any court knew who you were. A shining star in a court of nightmares.
Every one of the High Lords held a special affection toward you, often asking you to leave Rhysand and the inner circle and join them instead. Helion had made a point of his fondness by making a comment about how other-worldly you looked in Day Court gold, and then later on teasing Rhys about how he would one day succeed in his desire.
Everyone could beg and plead for you as much as they wished, but none of their affection could rival how Azriel felt about you.
Azriel was your shadow. Wherever you went meant that the Shadowsinger stalked not too far behind. He would sit with you and hum whilst you ran your fingers through his hair, each touch sending lightening soaring through his soul. He would walk around Velaris with you endlessly if it meant that he could see that almost childlike wonder in your eyes when you looked at the same restaurant or bookshop that had surely seen a thousand times before. He would soothe away your nightmares, allowing his shadows to pepper your skin in sweet pecks as he held you, and he would let you get close enough to soothe him when his own demons plagued him.
That's why, when he stood to the side of the room with a whisky in hand, did he want to tear apart the male who dared to speak to you. Helion was no regular male. But, as you giggled at one of his flirtatious jokes and rested your hand on his chest, Azriel became sure that he could make him scream like one.
Helion was visiting from the Day Court and it was the last night of his stint, so Rhys had suggested that you all go to Rita's, to relax from the toll of the week. The High Lord in question needed access to a couple of special tomes in one of Velaris' archives, you and Rhys had agreed that the tomes were too valuable to allow outside of the city, so Helion had to come to you. Like all he wanted was another excuse to be around you.
Azriel couldn't blame Helion for it.
Azriel believed that you were the most precious thing on the planet. 500 years of friendship and you stunned him more and more each day with your anecdotes and the innocent chatter that always filled the room.
"He's really trying this again?" Nesta asked, appearing beside him at the railing, wanting to take a moment away from the family madness before Cassian dragged her to dance for the fifth time that night.
"Can you blame him?"
The top three buttons of his shirt were left untethered, exposing that rock hard muscle beneath that was ink kissed and shimmering. Azriel couldn't stop looking at you, you were wearing that dress that you loved so much, sheer white and glittered in fine crystals, a low scooped back that fell perfectly on your figure. It was the only thing that could truly take his breath away.
"When are you going to tell her that you love her?" Nesta gazed at you, she'd never admit it but you were definitely her favourite, she held a special spot for you in her heart, just how everyone did really. "You need to tell her," she turned to him and he peered down on her with a sincerity she'd never seen, "She's incredible, Az. She's not the kind of girl you let get away. Go and love her before someone else does."
"She deserves better than me, Nes," his sad gaze lifted to you, you were starlight and he was shadow, you were pure and he was horribly tainted, and he couldn't have his darkness snuffing out your light.
Nesta gently pulled his sight from the dancefloor, making him focus on her by keeping her palm grazing against his cheek, "You're not a very good spymaster if you can't see how she looks at you."
Azriel didn't know what to say, he just knew that he had to get to you. He rounded Nesta and descended onto the dancefloor, barging past the grinding bodies with you in his sight, sipping your drink and smiling brightly at Helion who was stood far too close to you. You always felt Azriel looming, his shadows curling around your ankles always being a tell-tale sign that he was close.
Your eyes followed the trails of his shadows until you found their owner, your brows furrowed at the urgency he wore whilst he kept glancing at Helion with a tight jaw. It was unsettling.
"I need to speak to you," he pleaded, taking a step closer to you and you had no choice but to look up at him, to let those rippling pools of hazel drown you.
"Az, is every-"
"Please," he cut you off, reaching for you but not quite touching, like he was waiting for your agreement so that he could whisk you away.
You had never seen Azriel look so pained, so pleading and desperate. Without a word to Helion, you nodded and Azriel's fingers slid around your wrists, pulling you into a whirl of colour until you stood on a floor that you recognised and Rita's faded away.
The cabin was warm, everything was in place and tidy, that scent burning wood and orange that clung to the cabin flooded your lungs and made you shiver with delight. You had always loved the place, how perfectly small it was for a lone escape, where you could watch the snow fall from the bay window with a hot chocolate in hand and blanket wrapped tightly around your legs.
It took you a moment to centre yourself, and when you turned, you saw Azriel stood there, head hung low and wings drooped but relishing in the comfortable warmth of where you both were, "What's wrong, Az?"
The only light illuminating the cabin was from the fire, that crackling beast that sent gold and orange light roaring across the space, it welcomed in the faint glow of the moon that spilled onto the floor like an old friend.
"You can't go with Helion," he told you, well, more blurted at you.
"Go with Helion?" You asked and he nodded, anger bubbled in your chest, "Why would I ever do that?"
"He's wanted to take you from us for so long," 200 years to be exact, "Who could blame him, you're the most incredible thing that Prythian has ever made. I thank the Mother every day for you."
"What?"
"Please let me finish," he hated cutting you off, he hated being the reason that you were silenced, "If you speak now, I'll never be able to say what I have to say, what I need to say."
Azriel watched your face soften, the anger that threatened to boil over now evaporated, he watched you move to the sofa and sit down, patting the empty space beside you. He didn't know how you did it, how you could make someone feel so comfortable and heard, he thought about it as he took the seat beside you and heaved in a deep breath, curling one of his wings around you as if he was scared that you'd bolt.
"I love you, Y/N. I love your kindness, how you've never been scared of me. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you're talking about something you're passionate about. I love how you scrunch your nose when you're deep in thought. I love the way you bolt through the streets of Velaris before solstice to make sure everyone is as spoilt as possible. I love you, Y/N. I love everything that you are and everything that we can be, I can't lose you, I don't know who or what I'd be without you."
"There is no one who knows you like I do. I know that you sneak an extra spoonful of sugar into your hot chocolate before Nesta can catch you and tell you off," you smiled softly, "I know that you secretly hate shopping with Mor but would much rather suffer than tell her and take some of her spark away. I know that you can never tell Cassian that Nesta is your favourite unless you wanted to see him sulk for weeks," a soft laugh flew from your lips, "I know you're the reason that Rhys, Cass and I turned out so well, you're the only person we couldn't bear to disappoint."
Not once did you stop looking at him as he spoke. He loved you. Azriel really loved you.
"You love me?" Azriel nodded gently, "But, what about Elain? I thought..."
"Me and Elain?" Azriel's eyes were frantic, "No, Y/N. Gods no. You're the only one I've ever wanted, I tried to love someone else, I tried to love Mor, and maybe on some level I tried to find that with Elain. But no one could ever compare to you, anyone who isn't you aren't worth it."
Silence filled the air, that warm, golden hued air. Azriel was trying to read your mind, to figure out what you were thinking when you started laughing, tears pooled at your bottom lids and one blink sent them flowing down your cheeks. Azriel shuffled closer to you, taking his thumb and wiping away your tears before they dripped from your chin.
"We're so stupid, Az," you sniffled, letting him cradle your face in his hands and continue to wipe away any tears that fell from your eyes, "How could we be so blind?"
"What do you mean?"
Tilting your head to the side, your eyes sparkled, just how they did when you looked at or spoke about something you loved, then you felt it, that tension that had always tugged at your soul snapping into place, clouds of grey became clear sunny skies, and a golden thread soared across it and thrummed with yearning delight.
"I mean," you tugged on that thread, you watched his eyes widen and fill with disbelief, "That I love you too. So much."
"You're my mate," he confessed in a whisper, the bond sprouting into full bloom around you, like you could both see the tendrils of thread sewing your souls together.
Azriel's breath fanned across your face, hot and laced with the scent of whisky, the tip of his nose ran down the slope of your own, and you felt his lips lie millimetres away from yours, you watched his eyes search your soul before flickering downward to the place he craved to touch. Anticipation pulled at your chest and swelled in your stomach, and every bit of doubt vanished when he closed the gap and pressed his lips to yours.
It was like everything fell into place, like the world only began to make sense in that moment. Azriel's lips moved against yours hungrily, the sweep of his tongue into your mouth once you had granted him permission to taste you was enough to make your knees go weak. Heat pooled between your legs and you scrambled to be on top of him, the hem of your dress hitched around your thighs as you rested into his lap.
"Please, Az," you breathed between starving kisses, "I need you."
Azriel's hands moved from the back of your neck and the small of your back, reaching around to grip underneath your thighs, so dangerously close to where you needed him to be. He lifted you, not once breaking the connection of your lips, locking your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.
"I'm not making you mine on a couch," he lay you on the bed and climbed on top of you, running his fingers down the sides of your thighs, making your back arch as he peppered kisses down your neck, sucking and nibbling on the skin he found there.
You squirmed beneath him, itching to rip his clothes off and allow him to take every part of you, "Please," you whined into his hair, his hand palming your breasts and lips attached to your earlobe, making soft moans fall through your stumbling mouth.
"Tell me what you want," his voice was so deep that it made goosebumps rise across your skin, it was sultry and dark, it matched the shade of his eyes when he pulled away to look down on you with swollen lips and tousled hair. "I'll give you everything."
"I want you."
It was all he needed to hear in order to tear your dress in two and take your hardened nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting on them gently, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nubs of nerves that had you gasping and eyes rolling to the back of your head. You felt like your body was on fire as he kept moving downward, littering kisses down your stomach before resting between your thighs.
The cold air against your core made you gasp again, he ran a finger down your soaked folds and moaned, "You're so wet for me," his voice vibrated against the inside of your thighs, "So perfect," he mumbled before his tongue dragged a line up you, and then again, and again until you were a blubbering mess fisting your fingers through his hair.
Azriel flicked his tongue against that familiar bundle of nerves, curling his tongue around it and sucking on it gently so that he didn't overstimulate you. Stars crept in to the sides of your vision, that hot white heat building in the pit of your stomach, "Don't stop," they were barely coherent words but he heard you and kept his pace, teasing a finger around your entrance before slowly pushing it in an curling it upward.
It sent you toppling off the edge. That white heat burst from you, loud cries of his name flew from your lips and your hands gripped his wrists, stars poured into your eyes and Azriel pushed you through your high.
Too lost in the mind shattering orgasm he had just given you, you didn't feel his hands ran up your back and lock around the back of your neck, you didn't realise that your torso and head were propped up in his arms or see his wings flex above you, "Angel," he cooed, he clenched his hands into your hair and pressed his lips along your jaw, "Let me take care of you."
Azriel was bare before you, his length solid and resting against your thigh, "Make me yours, Az."
Azriel growled, his eyes darkened with possession, "Tell me if it's too much and we can stop," you nodded breathlessly and he kissed you again, harder this time as he pushed himself inside of you, your walls still quivering and pulsating around him.
Once he was pushed to the hilt inside of you, he groaned, it was deep and guttural, the most incredible sound you'd ever heard. Azriel gave you a moment, and you tapped his shoulder lightly to get him to move, you were needing him to move, it was getting too much. Your soul was burning with desire and you needed him to satisfy it before it completely ignited you.
Your mate thrusted into you, the roll of his hips reaching angles you didn't know existed, he took your nipple in his mouth again, growling as his pace quickened and the sound of slapping flesh and declarations of love filled the air.
"You're so beautiful, Angel," his lips found yours again and his movements became sloppy, "I'm so close," he felt your warmth tighten around him, ready to milk his cock as high pitched mewls exploded from your lips, "There she is, my perfect mate."
Azriel's fingers wound in your hair, pressing your forehead to his as he slammed into you, riding you both through those searing hot highs and continuing the long strokes as you both fell down, "I'm yours, Az. I'm all yours."
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Authors Note
😌
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minhosimthings · 4 months
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Kitty Love || 18+
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Synopsis: Minho fucking a baby into you, in throws of anger and jealousy
Pairings: husband!Minho × wife!fem!reader
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, angry sex, jealous sex, sex with plot, this is basically porn, breeding kink, p in v, Minho wants to fuck a baby into reader, unprotected sex (highly not recommended for you), volume control, kinda fluffy at the end
A/N: I need Minho to fuck a baby into me right now so... Have this instead
"Do you know how many people would have liked this dress on their bedroom floor tonight, kitten?"
"Minho I wasn't-"
"Shut it."
And yet again, yet another 'important buisness party' that Minho had to attend, completely forgetting your anniversary. And of course, as his trophy-good-for-nothing wife, you had to tag along, in a dress which was 'modest' enough to not attract all the other pig headed men at that event.
A married woman wearing a high slit dress, off shoulder dress? Certainly not! Scandalous, even.
And for Minho, it was more than just anger that flee through him as his eyes lay on all the disgusting men staring at your thighs all evening.
"Minho would you stop screaming and listen to me for once?" You cried, slamming your hand on the table. You were done with him, forgetting a day which was special and screaming at you for doing absolutely nothing.
His composure is sickly, every breath he takes - laboured and drawn out as he pushes himself closer to you, like he's trying to meld himself against you - seems to taunt you.
"we can have a 'fucking conversation' or we can start fucking," he grunts, rolling his hips into you as he watches your eyes roll in frustration, though not enough to mask the tell tale signs of arousal evident on you - a sheen of sweat glistening on your collarbone and highlighting your lust blown pupils.
"that's my girl," he grins, pushing your panties to the side and rubbing his digits through your slick, circling his index finger around your hole before plunging two in to prep you for his dick.
Your breath hitches as he begins to finger you, back arching off the bed as you try your best to remain impassive, unwilling to give him the emotional satisfaction of 'winning' the argument just because you let him get his dick wet.
With an arrogant smirk still residing on his features, he pulls his dick out - longer than it was thick, his tip cut and a blushing pink - teasing you with the head by slapping it on your soaked folds before slipping it in and groaning.
A stifled whine escapes through your sealed lips, the sound muted and restrained but desperate enough for coryo to hear and throb inside of you as he continues to sheath himself further.
"know it feels good kitten, y'dont have to hide," he taunts, patronising and knowing without a doubt that you're still mad and as a consequence refuse to explicitly vocalise any pleasure.
His thrusts start deep and slow, hitting that spot inside of you each time to chip away any composure you thought you had, your own forearm hiding tears of pleasure brimming at your waterline for how deep he was going, an abundance of emotions - alongside the sharp contrast of anger and pleasure - leave you feeling feverish and flush with confusion as he stimulates your most sensitive erogenous zones.
He coos at your dazed expression, your face ruddy and warm as he successfully fucks the anger out of you, quelling any urges you may have to shout by leaving you stupid and vulnerable due to the warmth of him inside you coupled with his measured, languid strokes.
Your hands are trembling. Your legs are shaking. Your chest is heaving. And the nickname sits on the tip of your tongue, yet you swallow it down.
"You really wanted to test me huh kitten?" Minho grunts, "Wearing that cute little slut outfit."
"Who said I was wearing it for you?"
“God, you’re such a fucking brat,” he sneers, tightening his hold on your hips before resuming his unrelenting pace. Thick cock stretching you open like it's the first time. “Fine. You want me to be jealous? Want me to say that I won’t share you with all those other men?”
And even if he’s mocking you, the thought has your pussy clenching. 
“Maybe I don’t want to share you,” he continues, although a bit softer. As though speaking to himself. “Maybe I won’t. Won’t fucking share you with any of them.”
“Gonna fuck my cum so deep into this pussy
you have my baby,” he exhales. “So then they know who you really belong to, yeah?”
“Is that what you want?” Another slap to your clit. “Wanna have my babies, kitten? Wanna carry me around? Wanna know that you own a part of me?”
You can’t think straight. Can’t fathom what he’s really saying to you, but it’s everything. Delicious and dirty and somehow, exactly what you need.
“Yeah? Oh, I know,” he nearly coos, and you feel his cock twitch. He’s close. “Then I’ll let you. Let you have my babies. Get you so pretty and pregnant. Make you mine—”
“Minho!,” you gasp before you’re cumming harder than you think you have in weeks. Flinging your arms around his neck in order to keep him as close as possible.
He’s beautiful. And he feels like heaven. It’s all you can truly comprehend as the warmth spreads through your cunt and makes a home in your pussy. As he keeps it there even long after you’ve both come back down.
"Still mad at me?" Minho mumbles into your ear, kissing the top of your forehead as both of you lay, sweating and euphonious on the bed.
You say nothing and grunt in response, cuddling closer to him, to catch all of his warmth.
"Don't worry kitten." Minho chuckles, "We'll have our anniversary tomorrow." You doze off to sleep under the tone of his voice, "A proper anniversary."
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aesthetic-bbyg · 7 months
Text
SWEETNESS ~ BUGGY
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LA!buggy x straw hat!reader
Based off of this post bc it made me giggle PT 2
Nattie speaks: y’all this mf clown has no right to be so fine but LAWRD. I’d do anything just for one lick. This is short nd simple but cuteđŸ€­
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ZORO DRAGGED HIS FEET across the wooden floors of the Going Merry, ignoring the muffled screeching of the clown head inside the dark sack as he set his eyes on thing. Nightfall was approaching, everyone on the ship wanted some rest, yet nobody was getting any with the constant whining of Buggy. The green haired man pushed open your door, making you jumped slightly as you looked towards him with a raised brow.
“I give up, all yours now.” Zoro voiced practically dripped in annoyance, he tossed the sack across the room, making it land onto the soft cushion of your bed before slamming the door behind him.
You could hear groans coming from the sack, “Damn you, you fucking broccoli-haired ass!” You chuckled softly, putting down the comb you had in your hand and walking towards the scruffy bag. As you released the clown head he sighed in content, breathing in the fresh scent of berries that engulfed the room. “Ah, sweetness, so good to see you!”
“Nice to see you too, Buggy.” You giggled, “You doing alright there?” You asked, smiling a bit as the man got comfortable on your bed.
“Much better now that I have you in front of me.” He winked with a flirtatious smirk on his red painted lips. “I definitely thought he was going to put me with that weird chef guy again so he could chop me into piece and cook me or something.”
“Looks like you got lucky today.” You smirked back, grabbing him and placing him on the small vanity, going back to combing through your hair. Buggy was a simple man, with simple needs, especially since his whole body was gone. The angle his head was facing gave him more fuel into his dirty thoughts. His eyes directly faced your chest, eyes captured on the line of cleavage peeking from the low cut tank top you had on. He was hypnotized by you, for the first time since he was taken by Luffy and placed on the ship to sail away to Arlong island he’d gone completely silent.
You simply hummed, clueless of how the clown shifted slightly to get a closer view. You suddenly let out a huff, dropping the comb and looking over at the clown. “Y’know, I like having you around here, you totally make me feel special and even though the rest of the crew might really, really not like you, know I’m on your side.”
“Mhmm.” Buggy hummed in response, eyes hungrily watching you. “I appreciate that, sweetness.”
You smiled. “You hungry?” You stood up and took him in your arms, cradling him carefully like he was a baby. The blue hairs that peaked from under the striped bandana tickled your skin.
Buggy enjoyed being around you, especially since you were so generous and careful with him, the others simply tossed him into the sack or an empty barrel whenever he even spoke. But you, you fed him, you defended him, you took care of him and did the exact opposite of what everyone else did. “I’m hungry for one thing, that’s for sure, sweetness.” The clown replied, eyes still clued onto your tits as you entered the small kitchen.
“Hey, maybe we can brush through that tangled mess once we get a quick snack.” You replied giddily with a big smile, “Hey, and wanna know another thing—“ You heard a string of groans follow as soon as you stepped into the room with Buggy.
“I gave him to you specifically to get away from him.” Zoro groaned, making Sanji nod in agreement.
“I’ll be out soon, stop your whining.” You replied with a roll of your eyes, reaching for the basket of fruit and picking out two apples. You picked up a knife and cutting board, quickly going to work and chopping up a few apple slices. “So as I was saying, nobody has ever taken me seriously, which why I also like you, you don’t make fun of me which is what many others do.”
Zoro and Sanji glanced at eachother with questioning looks as you proceeded with your mini rant, both of them making eye contact with the clown head that smirked at them, a cheeky look in his eyes.
“But I mean, Luffy chose me to be a part of his crew so obviously I can be more, I’m not dumb, and I feel like more people need to take me seriously.”
“Hey.” The clown smirked as he watched your every move, finally speaking up about his slight obsessing with your chest. “Nice tits.”
“Thank you!” You happily replied with a smile, placing the slices on a clean plate and taking Buggy back to your room as everyone stared in shock. “Goodnight boys!”
“Yeah, goodnight fellas!” Buggy called out, and if only he’d had the rest of his body he’d most definitely be given them a middle finger.
“How is it that a clown can do better at getting that girl then me?” Sanji muttered in annoyance.
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Forever will live, love, and laugh Buggy
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yummy, I <3 men who are bbyg’s
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romaritimeharbor · 26 days
Text
FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.
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— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.
— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).
— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it đŸ’Ș nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all đŸ«¶
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kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.
she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.
(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)
KAFKA
My coat got stained again :(
Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?
[ 1:22 PM ]
KAFKA
I saw a new movie today.
It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.
Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?
Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...
That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.
Sleep well, darling.
[ 11:34 PM ]
she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.
and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.
she does chide them, however.
"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."
if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.
she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.
however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.
they know kafka would not use it to harm them.
kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.
and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.
blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.
some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.
this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.
he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.
the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.
one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.
out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.
(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)
blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.
should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"
(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)
unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.
it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.
something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.
death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.
silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.
she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.
however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!
she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.
what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????
unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.
...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].
she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.
(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)
silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.
overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3
please consider supporting your writers by reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment. it really helps me out!
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jinnie-ret · 7 months
Note
skz and 9th member reader doing one of the period pain simulator things and reader being completely fine while the boys are Suffering. them realising how bad the period pains are and how the reader just gets on with schedules and dance practice and gym while in immense pain and the boys are just like :00
period pains
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stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)
genre: fluff
content warnings: none
word count: 0.9k (exactly!)
summary: you're keen to see the boys reactions to what you go through every month.
I hope you enjoyed this! If you did be sure to comment or reblog! And let me know if you'd like to be added to my taglist!
Asks are shut!
MAIN MASTERLIST
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You didn't mean to make such a dramatic exit when you ran out of the practice room to the toilets, but a girl's gotta go, especially when she's on her period. You didn't want to risk bleeding through your grey joggers that you wore.
Just as you exited the toilets, you had a worried Felix waiting for you.
"Y/Nnie, are you ok? Are you sick?" he frowned, a crease between his brows as he hoped you were not feeling under the weather.
"I'm fine, I'm fine, it's just, you know girl things," you tried to hint, yet he didn't seem to get it straight away, which surprised you, considering he had two sisters.
"Girl things?" he wondered out loud.
"Gosh do I have to spell it out? I've just got some cramps at the moment, I'm on my period," you sighed and rolled your eyes at him, jokingly of course.
"Ohhhhhh..."
"Yeah, now come on, let's get back to practice," you started walking, not turning around to see if he followed or not.
"You sure you're up for it? You can take a break if you need!" Felix wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you walked back into the practice room.
"Felix, I love you, but, I'll be fine haha, I've done this plenty of times before. If I really need to, then of course, I'll take a break, ok?" you couldn't help but smile at his caring attitude towards you.
"Oh, is it that time?" Chan asked as soon as you walked in, overhearing part of your conversation.
"Haha, yes, what gave it away?" you laughed in disbelief at how he could have possibly known.
"The emergency crisps in your bag kinda said it all," Chan lightly chuckled.
Oh.
Makes sense.
"Y/N, do you need painkillers? A hot water bottle?!" Han came up to you, treating you like you were a fragile doll.
"I've taken some painkillers already, it's fine, let's just continue with practice, yeah?" you patted his head to calm him down. What was it with these boys?
"Are you sure you can manage?" Hyunjin warily asked.
"I'm sure. You guys don't need to baby me, let's just continue," you laughed as you shook your head, getting back into position. You didn't miss their obvious glances at you, and whilst a part of you felt warm, another part was wondering how bad they truly thought periods were.
It didn't take long for your queries to be answered. In a special episode of SKZ Code, the boys were all simultaneously being hooked up to period pain simulator machines, which you were keen to see their reactions to.
"I bet I won't even flinch," Changbin smirked as he folded his arms.
"Surely it can't be that bad?" Jeongin thought out loud.
"If you don't think it's that bad, why do you always baby me when I'm on my period, hmmm?" you raised a brow at them. It made quite the moment for the episode, stays thinking you looked very cool in this moment with your blunt attitude.
"Well, you know, it's because..." Seungmin trailed off.
"We see how emotional you can get sometimes but you're an emotional person anyways," Lee Know shrugged.
"Then I bet Chan will be crying by the end of this," you teased your sensitive leader.
"Hey! I have a sister, I know that this will be painful, trust me," Chan held up his hands.
"I think I'll be fine," Han nodded confidently.
"Interesting..." you simply commented back, before the staff pressed the on buttons on the patches that were placed upon their abdomens and you could see the discomfort on their faces straight away.
"This isn't too bad..." Hyunjin's nose scrunched slightly.
"Oh, they're just going easy on you," you said smugly, before the intensity was raised and they started groaning, some of them (Felix, Changbin, Jeongin) started curling into themselves from the pain.
"I don't think I can go on like this," Han dramatically whined as he thrashed about suddenly and whacked Lee Know in the face.
"Yah! Just because you have a low pain tolerance!" Lee Know mumbled grumpily through gritted teeth.
"This feels a bit sadistic, Y/Nnie," Seungmin winced as he watched you smirk.
"Well this is right up your street then," you laughed at him.
"I don't know how girls do this," Changbin whimpered from the ground. Even with his jutdwae he couldn't contain or control his emotions.
"Isn't that enough yet?" Chan looked pleadingly towards the staff who finally turned off the machines, causing all members to relax and sigh in relief.
"Not as easy as you think, is it?" you sat comfortably, one leg crossed over the other.
"I'm so glad I don't have to go through that, let alone do it every month," Jeongin said as his body went lax across a sofa.
"Think how I felt, mine started when I was 12," you revealed, something you would never have needed to but you thought it would be interesting to see their reactions to it considering the situation you were in right now.
"12?! When I was 12 I had barely began auditioning for JYP..." Chan gasped.
"And now look at you, you're an old man," Seungmin casually commented after, leaving all of you in hysterics.
It was a perfect ending to an unexpected segment of a SKZ Code episode, and stays loved it.
tagged: @skz-streamer @sakufilms @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @kiraisastay @han-jiquokka
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Note
Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕
Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?
I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. đŸ„čđŸ«¶đŸ»đŸ«¶đŸ»
Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:
I did my best c: I hope you like it!
Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)
Word Count: 1538
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?
A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!
------
You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else. 
Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places. 
You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.
Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize. 
They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.  
You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in. 
A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to. 
You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much  to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods. 
You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own. 
For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly,  and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things - 
Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s? 
Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous? 
You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.
Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions. 
It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself. 
There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic. 
Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side. 
He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?” 
You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.
“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary. 
“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know? 
“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.” 
“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or  they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.” 
You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I
 do I make you uncomfortable?” 
You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “
why would you ask me that?” 
Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just
 I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.” 
You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad. 
 “I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just
” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper. 
“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew. 
You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?” 
Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face. 
Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?” 
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plistommy · 28 days
Text
Steve was looking more pissed off as ever with his hands on hips and scowl on his too-pretty face as he looked down at Eddie, who was nervous and embarrassed as hell because, well

He had forgotten their first anniversary.
They had been together a year.
A whole year and Eddie’s dumbass has forgotten about it as he had been too busy planning on a new DnD campaign with the other members of the club instead of being here with his boyfriend who had waited for him to show up, apparently, for five fucking hours with Eddie’s favorite dinner.
Fuck.
Eddie felt like the worst boyfriend ever.
But, he still tried to lighten up the mood and grinned nervously up at Steve who was not breaking his stance.
”Look
 I’m really sorry, baby—”
”Don’t you baby me!” Steve snapped and wrapped his arms over his chest, pout pulling into his pretty mouth.
”You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Eddie’s eyes widened a little and he awkwardly looked around ”But
 this is my house.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.
Steve huffed annoyingly and stomped to Eddie’s bedroom, leaving Eddie to sit on the living room’s couch, but before Eddie could really do anything, Steve was coming back with his green duffle bag and went to put on his shoes that were tidily set next to the front door.
”Fine. I’ll go to Robs. The food is cold, but I bet if you warm it up it isn’t half bad. There’s some ice cream too, chocolate and sprinkles on the top shelf. I know you like them
”
Steve and his caring side will be the death of Eddie. Even when the younger boy was mad at him, he still cared.
Before Steve could open the door, Eddie jumped from the couch and ran to him. He wrapped his hand around Steve’s wrist and pulled it back from the handle.
”Please, don’t go. Look, I’m really sorry, Steve. I am. I fucked this up,” Eddie took both of Steve’s hands to his, hating how the other boy wasn’t catching his eyes. ”Please, forgive me? I’ll do anything, baby.”
Finally, Steve turned those big brown eyes to his and gave a small nod, making his hair flop to his eyes which made Eddie push them back.
”Yeah?” Eddie said softly and Steve nodded again.
He dropped his duffle bag to the floor and let Eddie embrace him as the older boy wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist.
Steve breathed in the other’s scent, relaxing a little even if he was still a little upset.
”Okay, look,” He started, making Eddie pull away a little so he could see Steve’s face.
”It
 it isn’t that serious. It’s only our first anniversary, but I just
 I really wanted this to be special because I really really like you, Eddie and I love what we have and I just—”
”Hey, hey, Steve. It’s okay.” Eddie caressed Steve’s cheeks. ”You don’t need to apologize. I’m the one who fucked up. I should’ve known.”
Steve bit his bottom lip and leaned into the other’s touch.
”I love you. I will make it up for you, ’kay? If it takes me years of hard work I’ll do it. If it
 if it means I can’t play anymore I’ll do it for you.”
That made Steve snort as he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and fuck did it make Eddie happy when he finally felt the other’s touch on him.
”Like you’d be able to keep your hands off your ’sweetheart’.” And that made Eddie chuckle a little too.
”For you, anything.”
Steve gave him a soft smile and let Eddie kiss him.
”Fine. I’ll accept, you butthead.”
Eddie grinned as he led Steve to the couch, pulling the boy onto his lap as Steve giggled.
They made out for a while, Eddie doing all the things he knew to get the other laugh. Tickling his feet, the spot behind his ear that was unusually sensitive and squeezing that amazing ass when Steve wiggled on top of him.
When they both calmed down, now lying on the small couch with their legs tangled, Steve grinned.
”Hm, maybe for a start of this ’big’ journey of forgiveness, you could
 fuck me? It could make me a little less mad.”
Eddie felt heat pooling into his dick right away.
”Thought you wanted me on the couch?” He teased and Steve rolled his eyes as he smacked softly the other’s grinning face.
”Do not tempt me. Again.”
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softbeej · 1 month
Note
alastor cumming from just getting his ears touched by reader?
oh you may!!
Jazz & Liquor (Alastor x Reader smut)
“Ah, whiskey is your poison, I see? Mind If I have a glass? Always puts me right to bed.” Alastor asked, as you were curled up in the library with a scratchy record playing in the background.
“Be my guest!” You insisted, pouring him a healthy glass which he took with a wink before sitting beside you on the sofa.
“Reading anything interesting?” He questioned. He must be really sleepy; he always got a bit more touchy feely and talkative with exhaustion.
You shook your head no, closing the book and giving him your full attention.
“Just a old mystery novel, is all...”
He nodded, listening but clearly uninterested, “What brings you down here? You’re usually up in the radio tower at this time. Is everything okay?”
The attention was finally on him, and he visibly perked up at this.
“I’ve not managed to get much sleep these past few nights. Just wanted a little change of scenery, you see. Oh, how boring it can get up there all on my lonesome. You can visit, you know?”
You smiled, he was basically begging you to spend time with him. If you were to go up there, what would he even have you do? There’s only one chair up there - strictly his. There’s not even a sofa up there, it’s almost as if he specifically designed the room to deter anyone from loitering up there. You supposed, he could have you sit on his lap as he worked. Or he could have you just sit cross legged at his feet.
You almost shook your head to get rid of these thoughts, “Well, thank you, Alastor. I’ll certainly keep that in mind- Oh!”
With that, Alastor’s head was on your lap. He’d slowly been sinking into you as you were speaking, before his head just grew too heavy and landed in your lap. Almost immediately after he realised, his lazy eyes shot open, blushing and utterly embarrassed as he started blabbing a string of apologies at you.
You shushed him immediately of course.
“Al, Al, it’s fine! You sleep, you clearly need too...” You insisted as you gently lowered his head back down. He pulled his legs up on the sofa too, getting more comfortable. You scanned the room for a blanket for him, but didn’t want to disturb him.
Your nails raked through his hair as his eyes fluttered closed. Then, he purred as you continued. Your face reddened and you almost gasped.
“You like that? Feel nice?”
He nodded, “Mm...”
He probably wanted to downplay how much he liked it, but his involuntary purring clearly gave him away.
You kept scratching his head, moving closer to the base of his ears, where his hair changed into fluffy fur. His purring grew louder and rougher, giving you butterflies. His breath caught in his throat, and he let out a strange noise.
“Keep going? Feels... Good...” He said. Whatever butterflies you were feeling, he was clearly feeling tenfold, if you had to guess by the strawberry red blush covering his cheeks.
“Relax, Alastor... I’m here, relax...” You cooed.
You smiled to yourself as you saw his cock hard in his pants, straining the fabric and threatening the seams. Would he will it to go away? Excuse himself as he sorted his situation? Or just lay there seeing it through to completion?
His heavy eyelids fluttered open a little to watch you with blown pupils as you continued scratching, paying special attention to his ears now. You smiled as they flitted and twitched at even the lightest touch, and how he shivered in sync. You noticed he started to buck his hips up ever so slightly, as a nice wet patch of precum began seeping through the crotch of his pants.
Not like he cared, though. Instead he bucked his hips up harder, eyebrows knitting together as his tummy grew hot with arousal. With a final couple of rubs of his ears, he came hard right in his pants with an almost pathetic moan. His face relaxed, but his hips kept twitching involuntarily with aftershocks of the intense orgasm. The next thing you knew, you heard a deep breath and looked down to see him fast asleep. He’d have to deal with that mess in the morning, you thought as you drifted off.
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