#‘hold on hold on i gotta put on my fucking boots’

[inkykeiji]

i honestly don’t think i’ll ever be over the fact that dabi’s boots have zippers

[mrsimpurity]

promiscuous - l. howlett

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 1.8k

cw: smut (mdni), kinda mean!logan, reader is wearing a thong, p in v, riding, male masturbation, literally the smallest hint of a degradation kink

a/n: based on this ask!

“where the fuck have you been?”

those are the first words you hear the second you walk through the door and a smirk plasters on your face.

mission accomplished.

busy with x-men missions and personal affairs, this last week logan had blatantly ignored you and your desires with all sorts of excuses - “not right now, doll.”, “charles is waiting, baby, i gotta go.” hell, you’d started to think he was having erectile dysfunction.

so, to spite him, you did what every other woman on this planet would have done - come home disturbingly late and see what his reaction is.

“at the bar with my friends… girlfriends.” you say sheepishly. it wasn’t a lie of course. that truly is what you had been doing - having fun with girlfriends at a bar. nothing out of the extraordinary, your clothes weren’t even that fancy - casual low rise jeans and a baby tee. 

well, your tits and ass were definitely covered and that was good enough, at least.

you turn to lock the door and bend down to get your foot out of your boot when you hear logan behind you.

“with your thong out? or was one of your girlfriends in a hurry when fucking you in the car.” he barks.

you try your best to bite back the loud laughter threatening to escape your throat. frankly speaking, you knew your thong was peeking out and were putting on a show just to spite him even more.

“oh, this?” you ask, grabbing the flimsy string that’s peeking out of your jeans and pulling it just to snap it against your skin in dramatic effect.

suddenly, logan’s hands are on your waist and before you realize it, he throws you over his shoulder, your feet dangling in the air as you cheekily smile behind him. he’s fuming, hand placed on your ass in a firm grip as he walks towards your bedroom and throws you on the bed. 

he grabs the waistband of your jeans and roughly pulls them down. next go your t-shirt and bra.

“i’ll teach you a lesson.” the threat entices you more than you’d like to admit, and you find yourself getting wetter at the thought of logan throwing you around and punishing you. he settles behind you on the bed, dragging you in his lap by your armpits.

logan pulls at your thong, making the string rub between your folds and tease at your clit, the feeling sending a shiver down your spine. you attempt to wiggle your hips to get more friction, but logan stops you in your tracks as he tugs harder. it hurts deliciously and you can’t help but let out a breathless moan.

“such a slut.” he groans behind you, grabbing a hold of your chin roughly.

“logan.” you whimper helplessly, devoting yourself to him in this very moment.

“don’t moan my name, doll. it won’t get you out of trouble.” he says, lying through his teeth. truth is, he’s unbelievably hard and can’t handle you speaking to him like that before he’s had a proper fill and taught you a lesson.

“come on. take it off.” he orders. 

you oblige, quickly getting rid of your thong and awaiting your next command.

logan studies you, standing in front of him in your purest form, and for a moment you can almost see the utterly obscene thought flash through his mind.

he beckons you with two fingers and you follow, kneeling on the bed again. logan rests his head against the headboard and watches you crawl to him like a lost puppy. he gets rid of his boxer briefs in a torturously slow manner.

“spit.” is what he says next, tone rough and unforgiving.

you hover over his lap, letting a globe of spit fall down and watching it slowly reach the tip of his cock. he smears the saliva and starts out with slow pumps from base to tip. 

you watch, utterly confused as you reach to replace his hand with yours.

“no.” he barks.

you retract your hand in shame, watching him rub his thumb across the sensitive head of his cock. logan doesn’t miss the way you squeeze your thighs at every single grunt of his, practically drooling as you watch him please himself.

logan hisses, head falling back against the headboard as images of you run through his mind, his hand pumping his cock vigorously.

you can see him getting closer and closer to his release, eyes shutting closed from the pain the teetering on the edge brings him. his pumps get faster and faster as he finally comes with a low guttural sound.

logan’s cum shoots out in thick ropes and you can feel your pussy clench around nothing at the sight of his seed leaking out of his pretty tip and landing on his thighs.

“clean me up.” his harsh words take you out of your trance.

you hesitantly lean into his lap, unsure of what to do. you place a teasing kiss on the tip of his cock and he hisses through clenched teeth.

“i said clean me up. don’t tease.”

you put your tongue out and lick a long stripe from base to tip while looking at him through eyelashes. he looks unfazed, gritting his teeth to stifle his groans under your warm breath. 

you put his cock in your mouth and lap up the remnants of his release, careful not to moan around his length.

your tongue runs over his thighs as well, licking the mess he made in his lap.

when you’re all done, you lean in for a kiss, licking the remnants of his cum on your lower lip with a swipe of your tongue. just as your lips are mere millimeters away from his, logan’s hand grabs your jaw abruptly

and you freeze in place. 

“lo, please. jus’ wanna kiss you.” you say, desperate for contact. the throbbing of your pussy can’t be ignored anymore. 

“no. you can’t kiss me with that dirty mouth of yours.”

you pout at his mean remark, batting your eyelashes up at him. he stares back at you like he’s totally done with your dirty tricks and his hand reaches behind you to give you a gentle, but urgent slap to the ass.

“come on. you wanna please me don’t you?” he asks, pitying you. finally, you’re given a chance for a reprieve.

you straddle logan, grabbing the base of his cock as you hover over his lap hesitantly. his eyes soften at the sight of you preparing for the sheer size of his cock.

logan grabs your hips to guide you as you slowly sink down on his girth, every inch of him filling your greedy pussy. you let out a moan at the stretch and give yourself a few seconds to adjust.

logan’s small gestures are in sharp contrast with his words and behavior as his hand carefully puts the stray strands of your hair behind your ears. he watches your expression, eyebrows scrunched in pleasure and hands balled into fists at the delicious stretch of his length, and he begins wondering how he got so lucky.

with soft breaths, you begin riding logan, hands propped against his chest. your pussy is eager, sucking him in as you bounce up and down his length slowly.

you close your eyes for a moment before logan’s sharp voice cuts through the air.

“look at me.” he commands and you oblige, getting lost in his strict, but oh so beautiful eyes as his scrutinizing gaze makes you pick up the pace. you can’t help but moan around logan’s cock, the position you’re in allowing him to reach impossibly deep inside you and rub against your gummy spot.

logan’s tone is harsh but it makes you clench around his girth. he doesn’t budge, watching you pant, breathless, face red and eyebrows scrunched in pleasurable strain.

the only sounds filling the room are those of your wet pussy taking logan’s cock deeper and deeper.

“logan, please.” you whine out, hips tired as you ride, chasing your release. 

he gives in to your helpless demand and places his hands on your hips again, his grip strong and controlling - everything you need right now.

without proper warning, he starts fucking up into you, pace relentless as your tight hole squeezes him like a vise. 

your moans are incoherent, a mix of his name, futile curses and weak “i need you”s.

“come on, doll. i know you’re close.” logan grunts under you, watching you play with your tits as he fucks your tight cunt, his anger still apparent. you can feel the delicious pain of the knot in your tummy that’s about to snap.

“jus’ hold onto me, baby.” you barely register his words, already on cloud nine before his thumb rubs your puffy clit, the action eliciting a loud moan from you as you cum around logan’s cock, your pussy greedily clenching and squeezing him. 

“fuck, lo. please.” you cry out, unaware of what you’re even begging for. all you know is that you need him close, even closer, you need him consuming you.

“that’s it. ride it out. ‘m right here, baby.” logan reassures as you barely hold yourself upright, hands grabbing his shoulders for support as his cock abuses your sensitive hole. he’s chasing his own release, needing to fill you up, to mark you, to feel your warmth embrace him.

“inside. inside, please, logan. i need you.” you murmur desperately, lost in a world where the only thing you can feel is pure pleasure.

his thrusts get even deeper and faster, your words egging him on. with a grunt, he releases his seed inside you. his warm cum fills your hole and you collapse on his chest, logan’s arms wrapping around your torso as the two of you feel the cum trickle down his length. 

you shift in his lap and feel logan’s hard cock twitch, still inside you, but your tired body chooses to ignore it as you pant in his embrace, catching your breath.

logan’s hands are roaming all over your body, massaging, kneading and rubbing soothing circles on your back as he whispers sweet nothings into the crown of your head.

“logan.” you meekly speak, lifting your head to look into his eyes.

“what is it?”

“i’m sorry about earlier. it was stupid.” you say, referring to the whole “let’s spite logan and let him fuck you into oblivion!” stunt.

logan chuckles at your shy apology.

“are you kidding? you looked fucking hot, baby. i just got angry thinking about those slimy motherfuckers at the bar staring at what’s mine.” he says, accentuating his words as he grabs the globes of your ass, squeezing lovingly.

you giggle against his mouth, placing a soft kiss on his lips. his hand grabs your nape and he takes over, tongue entering your mouth in a delicious kiss which makes you moan softly.

you shift in logan’s lap again and are reminded of something. 

you slowly pull away from the kiss, raising a brow as the corners of your mouth lift up in a small smile at logan’s voice.

“maybe i’m still a little mad. you wanna take care of that, doll?”

[bookshelf-dust]

something’s gotta give

gif by @kwistowee

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5,988

warnings: swearing, crude jokes, sexual innuendos, general hatred for either party, one small mention of a judgmental christian lady, depictions of an accident involving a box cutter, talk of blood and the ensuing wound, banter, both reader and eddie trying to get under each others skin, enemies to lovers trope

synopsis: eddie munson is a prick. a prick who also happens to be your coworker. you hate his guts. he hates yours. and who would think there’d be reason for anything else?

a/n: well, hello!! i’ve been working on this idea for a little bit, and it was definitely a challenge because i’ve never taken on something with this dynamic before. it was so tricky to come up with all these snarky remarks, to build up a world where it made sense. speaking of, this is without a doubt a 90s!au. i am proud of myself for trying something new and i think it turned out pretty good. shoutout to @clovermunson for listening to me vent about my struggles and helping me mold eddie into the smartass he is. also thank you to @steph-speaks for making me a cutie rb banner!! peep it at the end of the fic. happy reading!!! <333

————

“Here’s your change and…there’s your receipt.” 

You bump the cash register drawer with your hip, slamming the thick metal shut. You give a big, warm smile to the woman in front of you. She has a face full of freckles and the most beautiful silver hair that makes her blue eyes look insanely vibrant. 

She grins back at you, setting her palm on the countertop, her nails painted a pale, shimmery shade of pink. “Thank you, sweet pea. And thank you for helping me find some goodies!” She shakes her paper bag. 

You hand her a complimentary bookmark with the store name on it. “You’re so welcome. You’ll have to stop by and let me know what you think about that one!”

“Of course! You have a good day, now.”

“You too!” You give her a small wave as she walks out the door, and move to put away the store’s copy of her receipt. Your smile drops immediately when you feel a looming presence behind you. The paper in your hand gets crushed when you shove it under the counter. 

“Damn, you flick the bean this morning?” Eddie’s voice drips with malice. You know he’s wearing that sinister ass smirk before you even turn to face him. 

“Why? Need some advice on how to find it, Munson?” You grab a stack of books off the counter and slide out of the way so he can clock in. 

The sound of his boots on the carpeted floors tell you he’s following you. He always is. 

“I think it’s a valid question, princess. You’re in such a good mood it makes a guy wonder…” 

You stop in the mystery section, looking for authors with the last name beginning with ‘F,’ and begin to restock. “Well, Eddie, if I got off and that’s why I’m so bubbly today, it’s pretty clear to me that somebody gave you blue balls last night.”

He laughs, snatching a book out of your hand to put it on the top shelf when he sees you rise up on your tippy toes. It pisses you off. “Harsh, princess.”

You turn around at the sound of the doorbell, but he stops you with an arm outstretched to rest on the wall. 

You grab his hand and shove it out of your way. “I guess you should’ve put that hand to good use then and given yourself a quick, and probably little, job before you came to your real one.”

When you escape his vicinity, you look around for the customer you heard come in. There’s a young boy wandering through the back section where you sell records, tapes, CD’s, whatever the fuck. It’s Eddie’s section, and therefore not your problem. 

You hold eye contact with the man in question, giving him your bitchiest look possible. “You have a customer, Munson. And…” you glance at your watch, “I’m going on lunch.”

Eddie watches as you cross your arms and march off to the break room. His gaze falls to your ass. You’re wearing this long skirt, one that falls just above your ankles so your boots poke out. The fabric is loose and flowy, but manages to cling to your skin and he can see every curve when you walk. Every bounce of soft flesh—

“Hey, excuse me?” The voice of a boy, no more than fourteen, snaps Eddie out of his dick-controlled reverie. 

He spins around to face the kid, putting on his customer service face. “What can I do for you, little dude?”

In the break room, you stand in front of the microwave, shifting back and forth on your feet while you wait for your leftover pasta to warm up. It’s rare now for your shifts to line up with Robin’s. She is a good coworker, and you’d built up this system, this rhythm, that Eddie has never even tried to build with you. 

God, you miss her. And you fucking hate Eddie Munson. 

You pull out a chair and sink down into it, too pissed to care that you’re essentially manspreading and certainly eating like a slob. 

What angers you the most is that you tried to be friendly with Eddie when he was hired. You have seniority over him, and you were happy to help him figure out how things worked. But he didn’t give a fuck. To you, it seemed like he was too good for your help. 

But the first time you saw him ask Robin for help, you realized that he just…didn’t like you. And you don’t know why. You have always been nice to your coworkers. You have no reason not to be. Except when you get to a point that you’re forced to match their energy. 

You down the rest of your drink. You need to go out and get some fresh air, despite the fact that it’s fucking scorching outside. 

Up front, Eddie gives the young boy his receipt and a little bag full of cassette tapes, buttons, and a patch that he helped him pick out. Another child saved from the masses of pop music, he thinks. 

He taps his ringed fingers against the counter, lowering himself so that his elbows rest against the cool vinyl. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie catches a sticky note stuck to the edge of the computer monitor. 

The store’s goal total for today is written there, penciled messily in your handwriting. Eddie rolls his eyes. Why do you always have to be on top of everything like that? You’re so fucking uptight all the time Eddie’s surprised you don’t waddle because of the stick you permanently have up your ass. 

Ever since the day he got hired a few months ago, Eddie has despised you. He remembers taking a small tour of the shop and being introduced to you where you were organizing a new shipment of magazines. 

You stood, shyly fidgeting with the pin on your fitted denim vest. You were bubbly, with these sweet little doe eyes and an expression on your face like you were hoping to make a new friend. He remembers your palm feeling unsettlingly cold when he shook your hand, and now it all makes sense to him. 

What with the way you can change moods with the drop of a pin, how you manage to bring a storm cloud with you every time you walk in his direction but have everyone else wrapped around your finger. 

A cold-blooded bitch like you must surely feed on the souls of little children every morning. 

He hates how organized you are, how prepared. How you behave all patiently when you’re with a customer who’s been a prick, even though he knows it’s all an act because you’ll give him a death glare at any given chance. 

But most of all? He hates how fucking gorgeous you are. You’d think all that hatred would make you look like an old hag, but no. Instead you walk around in your skirts that show off that perfect ass and every once in a while you wear a shirt that shows the tiniest sliver of your stomach, or in some cases, your back, if you bend over. He hates when you wear those platform boots with the heels that allow you to level with him. 

And the fact that you’re walking toward him right now. 

Eddie watches as you strip off the cropped button-up you’d been wearing, exposing your bare arms. 

There’s a tattoo running up the length of your bicep that he’s never seen before. His gaze lingers on it for long enough that you catch it and raise a brow. 

“You cry when you got that, princess?” He points to the dark ink on your skin. 

You slide behind him and sit on the stool in front of the computer. 

“No, Eddie. I fell asleep. If you want to bond about how you wailed during each of your tattoo sessions, you’ll have to talk to Brian.”

He scoffs. “Guess you can handle a little prick then, huh?”

“I work with you everyday, don’t I?” You smile, but keep your eyes on the computer screen. There’s supposed to be a new shipment of books coming today, and your boss already asked you to set up the display when it gets here. That reminds you, and you speak before Eddie can give you a smartass remark. “Eddie, there’s a box of new vinyls in the back you’re supposed to sort and put out.”

“Yeah? I’ll get right on that, mom.”

You pinch your thumb and forefinger together so that you don’t snap. It’s such a shame that such a pretty man is such a fucking asshole.

The mouse starts to feel slick from your clammy hands as you click around, trying your best to track the package. Slam!

Eddie drops the box of records on the far end of the front desk, making you jump. He grabs a box cutter and pulls open the mess of cardboard and packing tape as aggressively as possible. 

Your head snaps in his direction. “Can’t you do that anywhere else, Munson?”

“Nah, babe. My only entertainment for the day is pissin’ you off, and I just clocked in.”

You facepalm. “Jesus fucking Christ, I miss Robin.”

Eddie cups his hand around the shell of his ear. “What’s that, princess? You need Buckley, huh? Bet she puts up with your shit.”

You stand up. “More like she puts up with me talking about the shit you put me through, because you masquerade as a sweet little angel when you work with her.” You’ve moved toward the other end of the counter before you can even realize, leveling with Eddie and getting in his face.

He places both of his hands on the table, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Maybe it’s because Robin isn’t a fucking priss, and actually has a personality.”

That hits a nerve, and Eddie catches the way your brows twitch. But your poker face doesn’t slip, not for a second. Your eyes flick to the front door. 

“You have a customer, Munson. I’ll go take care of the records. Oh, and they’re a chick. Maybe you can go see if she has a personality that’s up to your standards and get your dick wet so that there’s a slight chance you become less of a raging asshole.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder at the young woman who’s just walked through the door. She has long, dark hair and more piercings than he can count. She’s his type, and he hates that you clocked that. When he turns back to you, you’re already taking the box off the counter. 

“Oh, and Eddie? Fuck you.”

You get the vinyls sorted and put away in record time. 

————

If it’s possible, the next day is hotter than the last. You’re sweating the second you walk out of your front door, your hairline quickly dampening and your thighs sticking together on the drive to work. 

You put on the one short dress you own today, grateful for the fact that your place of occupation doesn’t have a strict dress code. It’s too hot to wear anything, but the thin, mesh-like fabric and little spaghetti straps will do just fine. 

Luckily for you, Eddie’s shift doesn’t start until one, so you’ll be able to have a chill morning where you won’t feel like blowing your own brains out. Knock on wood, but you even feel a little giddy because Robin opened, which means she’ll be there to welcome you and greet you with a bit of peace. 

You pull open the front door, and pick up speed, knowing the cool air is just within your reach. The sounds of heavy metal reach your ears before you see him. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” 

You consider yourself lucky that the floor is empty, because you did not consult your conscience for one second before expressing your pure annoyance that Eddie is here before he was meant to be. 

You push up your sunglasses so they’re level with your eyebrows, and take a look at the figure standing behind the counter. There is no Robin anywhere in sight. “Where is Robin? Why the fuck are you here?” You catch Eddie’s gaze drag up and down your bare legs and that good mood flies right outside the front door. 

“Why are you dressed like that?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “What’s the matter, Eddie baby? You not see a lot of shoulders in that fuck ass club of yours?”

You pull your sunglasses back down over your eyes and grin, because you’ve just seen Eddie Munson blush. That one really hit the mark, and you are immensely pleased with yourself. 

Even more so when you realize he’s following you. You start switching your hips, knowing where his gaze is. You’re not as stupid as he thinks. 

His wallet chain is jingling, his hair flying behind him as he jogs to meet you in the middle of the store. If a customer were to walk in right now, they’d see the both of you standing nose to nose, a murderous look in your eyes, and probably feel like they’d just walked in on a taping for a soap opera. 

“What do you know about my fuck ass—” He coughs, practically chokes. “W-what do you know about Hellfire?” Eddie asks. You can almost see his blood boiling. 

You put your hand on his chest. “I’m a rogue, bitch.”

The sound of your laugh reaches Eddie’s ears before he’s even registered your hand on him, your breath on his neck, and that you’ve turned around and disappeared. There’s no way you’re not a witch. Are you a witch? What does a hex feel like? 

Eddie starts walking to the stacks, suddenly encouraged to see if you carry any witchcraft-related texts. The doorbell chimes and he’s forced to spin around. 

The group of people that have just pushed through the doors is huge. At least six teenagers of varying heights, followed by four or five college-aged kids. And they all look like they’re on a mission. Two of them head straight for the records, one for the magazines, and he loses sight of the rest down the romance aisle. 

In the back, you lock up your bag and shake out your shoulders. 

Your fingers fly over the radio, quickly changing the station Eddie had chosen to one you know plays much better music. You turn the dial down a little too, having already started to feel blood leaking out of your ears. 

At the counter, Eddie watches in horror as the teenagers grab armfuls of records and CDs. What’s worse is that a family of four walk in next. An older woman walks straight up to him. “Excuse me, sir?” Sir? What is he, a fucking mummy? “Where are your bibles and Christian novels?” He catches her eyeing the ink littering his pale arms. 

“I can show you to them, ma’am. If you wanna come with me, we’ve got a whole section just for that!” Your bubbly voice meets Eddie’s ears. And so do the sounds of “There She Goes” by The La’s. 

The woman turns on you, her smile brightening, and she’s quick to follow your purposeful step. Over your shoulder, you wink at Eddie. 

He knows it’s evil. He knows he fucking hates your guts. He hates that you’ve just charmed that red flag of a woman. But he’ll be damned if he fails to admit that his zipper didn’t feel just a little tighter at that faux flirtation in your expression.

“Let me know if you need help finding anything, alright? And if we don’t have anything in stock, we can always order it for you!” 

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you’re practically stomping on your way back to the counter. You use the walk to actually take in Eddie for the first time since you came in. 

He’s wearing a t-shirt that he obviously cut the sleeves off of at home, purely based on the way they’re fraying. His arms are…beefy, to say the least. His skin looks unnaturally soft, and his biceps are just so big and they look like they’re begging to be squeezed or bitten, even. 

Your eyes wander lower when he’s called over to help a child cart probably ten CDs to the counter. His jeans aren’t tight, not exactly. But they fit. He’s got more ass than most people would know what to do with. You can’t help but wonder what it looks like outside of that ratty denim. Or what else he might use that bandana for. 

You park yourself in front of the register, getting the system set up before the rush you can feel coming on. The cracks in the leather seat below you pinch your thighs, but you can’t be bothered to care. You deserve it for thinking of such a dickhead that way. Why are the gorgeous ones always assholes? 

A quick glance over your shoulder tells you that Eddie’s not helping kids anymore, but shamelessly flirting with a girl who can’t be more than twenty-one. She looks slightly intimidated by him, until he flashes his ring-covered fingers in front of her. You recognize that look, the one that tells you she might just eat him alive. 

You fear she’ll be immensely disappointed when she truly gets to meet his personality. 

In the time he’s been trying to woo this young lady, a line has formed, and now you’re stuck cashing people out. The Christian lady is first. 

“You find everything you needed today?”

She drops some change into the tip jar and takes a mint from the tray you just restocked. “Yes, I did, sweetheart, thank you for asking. You see that? Yes, that one—isn’t it gorgeous?”

She forces you to look at the fancy bible she’s picked out, and you do so despite the voice inside your head screaming for her to fucking pay already and get out because she’s been here long enough and the line is only getting longer. 

“It sure is!” You do your best to smile kindly. You hand her the receipt and a small card that not only thanks her for her purchase, but promises a ten percent discount if she comes back within the next month. 

The next customer is easy, a ten year old with a storybook that has colorable pages and a bookmark with rainbow tassels. You hand him a sticker and tell him you like his Gizmo shirt, and he beams his way out the door. 

When you are confronted with a set of parents who clearly have more kids than they seem to want, you feel a warm breath on the back of your neck. “You have a happy pill on you I can have?”

Eddie takes the stack of books out of your hands and places each one in a paper bag. The customers aren’t even looking at you, what with the husband fussing about inflation and How much for a paperback? and the toddler trying to eat the rug.

“No, sweetie,” you start, sliding the bag across the counter, hoping maybe the woman will notice and take her gaze off the street just outside the window. She takes it without looking at you, without a word, and the husband walks away mulling over the receipt, not bothering to do a headcount of kids. “I can’t keep up with your stash of boner pills.”

Eddie laughs. He tosses his head back, bearing his thick neck to you. It’s a slow sound. You can’t help but feel like it’s not something you should hear. It feels like the kind of laugh someone saves for a lover in privacy. And it’s so gravelly and deep. 

The line has slowed, and all that’s left for you to do is keep an eye out for the customers slowly making their way up front. 

You tilt your head a little in Eddie’s direction, signaling that you’re speaking to him. “You probably do need them though, based on the way you were eye-fucking that girl earlier. God knows you’re gonna need a little…happy to keep up with her.” 

Eddie bends a little at the knees, getting his head completely level with yours, his brown eyes twinkling with malice. “You think about my dick a lot, princess?”

You place your hand on the counter, less than an inch between yours and Eddie’s fingers. One move and they’d be touching. Hell, one step forward and your front would be pressed to his. “More like I worry about it,” you say. 

He quirks a brow, his lips ticking up at the corners. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Since I see you try and pick up a girl in the store at least three times a week and you know what? They never stick. So either it’s that you can’t get it up, or it’s that if you treated any woman as well as you treat that guitar of yours, maybe they’d be satisfied.”

Eddie takes a step forward. You’ve never been this close to him. “You know, Princess, they might not last, but based on your fucking attitude, it seems like you’re jealous.”

“Jealous?”

He pushes a strand of hair out of your face. Your blood pressure spikes. It feels like your veins are turning colors with how angry you are. Eddie has the nerve to laugh. 

“Yeah. I think all this bitchiness comes from the fact that no one will put their dick anywhere near you. They’re probably afraid you’ll make it shrivel up and die.” You don’t say anything, and he just keeps going. “Hell, I’m nice enough that I’d fuck you if that meant you’d get off my back.”

Your entire body goes rigid. And in that moment, you know that’s exactly what he wanted from you. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction. 

“Thanks for the offer, Munson. But I’d rather gouge my own fucking eyes out than let you touch me. If you wanna see me as a priss, that’s fine. But at least I’m not an insufferable prick who can’t give a damn about anyone who’s not shoved so far up my own ass and ready to fall at my feet at any given moment. Some people have to grow the fuck up.” You practically spit out the last few words, your voice laced with venom. 

Eddie blinks. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes glazed over. For the first time since he met you, he doesn’t have shit to say.

————

You and Eddie are the only ones on schedule today. 

You haven’t spoken in days, just moving around one another and doing your jobs in silence. You can’t lie about the pride you feel in your chest from having finally gotten to him. Even if the dead quiet is unsettling, you feel a sick sense of satisfaction. 

You think Eddie might’ve even mastered the art of a fake, but amiable personality. 

You’re currently hiding away in the back room, unpacking new shipments of books, vinyls, display materials, along with all the shit you actually need like paper for the register and cleaning supplies. 

Not that it matters where you are because you’ve had a total of one customer today. But that’s how Wednesday’s go. 

It’s sort of mindless, this activity. You slide the box cutter over the packing tape, rip open each box, take everything out, stomp the box flat, repeat. It’s not very stimulating, but you don’t hate it. 

The last box though is covered in enough clear tape to catch every fly in the world, and it’s taking some serious sawing to get through. You set your hand on the worn and slightly damp cardboard, bracing yourself to get one end of it loose. 

You’re just getting there when the blade finds a raindrop on the silky tape and slips free. You’re not expecting that, of course, and the blade slices the skin of your forearm quickly and thoroughly. 

You yelp, dropping the box cutter. You’re never one to wail or scream, but you let out a whimper at the shock of pain. Your non-dominant hand starts to shake as you take in the wound.

You’re too panicked to realize that your frightened exclamation could be heard up front, considering there’s no music playing and you left the receiving room’s door open. 

It doesn’t look deep enough to need stitches, but it’s bleeding. Quite a bit, actually. 

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”

There are thudding footsteps, and then Eddie appears in the doorway. “Fuck fuck fuck, what? Bein’ so damn loud.” He pauses, taking in the sight before him. 

Your eyes are glazed over, your hands shaking, and you’re cupping your forearm so as to not let blood drip all over the floors. 

“Oh fuck off, I do not need this right now!” you exclaim, knowing he’s going to berate you or say something demeaning and you are not going to cry in front of him. 

Eddie says your name. 

He never says your name. It makes you look up at him, and you almost feel nauseous at the sincere look on his face. 

“Do you need me to drive you somewhere?”

You roll your eyes. “No, Eddie. I’m not fucking helpless! And I’m not bleeding out either!”

He steps towards you, his hands outstretched like he’s a ringmaster, like he’s trying to tame an apex predator. “But you are bleeding.”

“No fuckin’ shit, Sherlock—”

“Let me help you—”

You decide to shove past him, whimpering your way towards the bathroom. Eddie is on your heels. You try to shut the door in his face, but he plants his boot firmly on the floor and prevents you from it. His glare is unwavering. 

He repeats your name once more. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Just—just fucking stop for a minute, okay? Let me help you. Let me do this one thing without any of this shit, you hear me?” 

You blink. Eddie kicks the door stopper down so it stays open. His eyes flick to the toilet seat. “Sit.”

You’re too winded to say no. So you sit down, cradling your arm, while Eddie rummages around for gauze and wipes and whatever the fuck he can find because he’s not a nurse but he has had to clean himself up on more than one occasion. 

You can’t process that Eddie is treating you this way. Like a human. That he’s insisting on helping you when he doesn’t get anything out of it. 

When he returns, he settles on his knees in front of you, looking into your eyes to make sure it’s okay for him to touch you. You hate the way your stomach flips. But the little shift in your arm tells him it’s alright. 

Eddie’s fingers are cold on yours as he turns your forearm outward so he can look at the wound. You can’t help but watch as he works on you. Takes care of you. 

He sets a paper towel underneath your arm, using another to press down on your skin and make sure the bleeding has stopped. The pressure hurts, but you don’t say a word. 

Eddie hooks his foot around the corner of the trash can, pulling it closer. He throws out the bloody towel and wets another, being as gentle as he can in an effort to clean all of the dried red splotches from your skin. 

The cut isn’t deep, but it definitely nicked a few capillaries along the way. It is a little longer though, and Eddie has to use two big pieces of gauze to cover it. This is after he’d swiped your arm with alcohol wipes, grinning to himself because of how hard you were trying not to show him any weakness. 

Eddie’s thumb lingers on your skin long after he’s taped you up. You’re both silent, sitting in your shitty workplace bathroom. You can feel that he wants to say something, but you don’t know what. It’s why you haven’t gotten up yet. 

You notice his eyes on your face before you meet his gaze. “Will you look at me?” he says. Your heart jolts in your chest. 

“What for?”

“So that I can tell you why I’ve been a giant dick since I met you and you’ll see I’m being real with you.”

Your head shoots up, mainly because you can’t really believe he’s just said those words. “Hold on,” you laugh, “You’re going to explain yourself now? After I spent all that time trying to be your friend and you—”

“Treated you like shit, yeah I know.” Eddie drags his hands down his face. You’re not sure why, but you feel compelled to listen to him. “I showed up and you were there in your cute fucking skirts and you were so nice to everyone and just so…good? I couldn’t stand it.”

You blink. 

“I’m not like that. I’m not good with people and empathetic like you are and it takes me a long fucking time to do anything right. And I chose to take that out on you, to hate you, because you were so perfect, and that was easier than falling for you.”

Your mouth drops open. He what? Eddie waves his hands in your direction. 

“Close your mouth, you’re gonna catch flies. I hated that I could’ve dropped to my knees for you the second I met you. You looked at me like I was precious, like you were happy to meet someone new, and I’m such a fuck up, such a nuisance to so many people, that there was no way I was going to let a pretty girl like you befriend me and have me ruin it all. Because the truth is, I’d kill to be as fucking good as you are.”

You start shaking your head. You feel your eyes glaze over, so you look down at your freshly bandaged arm. 

“And I realize that the only reason you’re a dick to me is because I started that shit.”

You let out the barest hint of a laugh. “It’s called matching your energy. There wasn’t any point in trying to befriend you when you…hated me.”

Eddie says your name again. “I don’t hate you. I do hate myself though, and that I was so—”

“Jealous?” you interrupt, finishing for him. 

He tugs on the hair at the base of his neck. God, this is the most ridiculous fucking thing. 

“Yeah. Jealous that I don’t have as much good in me as you do. I’d see you working, see you happy to help anyone, see you pull more weight than anyone else here. I hated that you’re everything I’m not.”

When you finally look back up at him, you’ve gone all teary, and something inside Eddie breaks. It snaps. 

“We’re not supposed to be the same. If we were, nothing would ever work. You act like you’re just—just this helpless piece of shit, Eddie. You aren’t. But I can’t make you realize that. All I can do is tell you that if you want to be more charismatic—or whatever the fuck—you gotta work at it.”

He’s looking at you with his stupid ass doe eyes, and you think you finally understand him. 

“It doesn’t matter if you’re everything I am, Munson. No one else is livin’ your life for you.” You start to trail off, but not quite yet. “I wish you hadn’t been so fucking sincere so I could yell at you.”

Eddie tosses his head back, bearing his neck to you, and laughs. He raises his hands, beckoning you. “C’mon. Let me have it. You deserve it for how many times I’ve called you a priss.”

You shake out your shoulders, and if you weren’t still drained from the box cutter incident you’d jump up and hop back and forth like you’re readying to get in the ring. 

“I get it, you know? But I also don’t think it’s fair, because, and I’m gonna be honest here, the day you got hired I thought you were so gorgeous. Trust me, I was fully weak in the knees. You were also dressed like, well, you, and I wanted to at least make friends with you because you seemed, to use your words, good.”

“I heard you crack a few jokes, saw you picking up on how things worked, and then with me it was like you had this alter ego. I just don’t think it was fair that I got the short end of the stick here, even if I did enjoy being a smartass to you. So I guess what I’m really saying is, why me? Why weren’t you a dick to Robin, or Brian or fuckin’ Keith? Why not take out your jealousy on someone else?”

Eddie stands up, shoves his hands in his back pockets. “You can hit me if you feel like it, because I know this is going to sound fucked.” He pauses, and then all the words spill out at once, leaving you completely breathless when he’s finished. 

“Not only was I jealous of how perfect your soul is, but you being so sweet made me want you. I wanted you all to myself. I wanted that personality, those kind remarks, that look you get in your eye when you’re listening so well, I wanted it all around me, all the time. It felt like you were this fucking angel, I wanted to lose myself in you.”

“But it didn’t feel like I’d be worthy of you either. I figured you’d get sick of me, real quick, when you realized I wasn’t as good of a person as you. When you figured out all the shit I need to work through. It seemed easier to hate you than to have you see me the way everyone else does. Nobody wants a work in progress.”

You laugh. You take in your surroundings, still in the work bathroom, and you laugh. Eddie’s brows shoot up, and his heart drops out of his ass and onto the tile floors below him. 

“Eddie, everyone is a work in progress. And I am an extremely patient person.”

He recovers himself fast enough to make one more smartass remark. “You’re sure you don’t wanna kick me in the balls or somethin’?” 

You take a step towards him, breathing deeply. Breathing him in. 

“Not right now, Eddie. What’s frustrating though, is how much I want to kiss your dumb ass. Your annoying, over-complicating, completely ridiculous, stupid hot fucking ass.”

Eddie blinks. You might as well have kicked him in the balls because he can’t even think a single coherent thought now. Not with the way you’re pushing up onto your toes and pulling him down towards you, shaking your head so he doesn’t make up something stupid about not deserving it. 

And then your mouth is on his. Your lips are so warm, and everything else disappears. All Eddie can feel is you. Your perfume engulfs him, the heat of your chest pressed against him, the soft fat of your hip under his hand. When you pull on his hair he almost whimpers. 

You kiss hard, harder than he’d have thought, but it’s so gentle at the same time. You’re kissing him stupid. There’s no other way to put it. The only thing that pops in his head is that his suspicions about you being a witch were totally fucking spot on. 

When you finally pull away, your lips have gone all puffy, and there’s this dazed but incredibly satisfied look in your eye. He’d take you home right now and get on his knees for you if you’d let him. 

Your lips tick up at the corners, and he has to shake his head so he can really hear what you’re about to say. 

“Aren’t we on the clock, Eddie?”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[miabebe]

Camp Seventeen: Prologue

Seventeen as Greek Demigods Series

Pairing - Reader x ot13 (Yes, you read that right, I am insane and you are allowed to scream at me)

Word count - 2.7k

Genre - Greek Demigod AU! We’ve mainly got crack cause all of them are idiots, and obviously smut because they are thirteen lonely, horny men afterall (aka reverse harem) also throwing in some fluff and angst as well because I gotta let emotions run high for plot sake :)

A/n - Hello hello, this is a new seventeen series I am starting and boy oh boy is it gonna be a wild ride! A special thanks to @okiedokrie @whipped-for-kpop-fics @ourdawnishotterthanourday @multi-kpop-fanfics for all their amazing help and bearing with me through the discussions for this, I’m so grateful to you guys :)

I will have a taglist for this so please comment/ send an ask to be added!

“Over here!”

Wincing, you looked up from the disgusting heap of mud your foot had neatly landed in, ignoring the way your little piglet was ecstatically rolling in the same filth.

The man before you looked equally disturbed as he walked over, pulling out a bottle of water apparently from up his ass because you didn’t remember him holding it a second ago.

Sighing a thank you, you took it, emptying it onto your boots before grabbing your gremlin of a pet from its happy place, resulting in a series of loud, incessant whining.

In all that noise, you heard your shoe savior take your name with a voice that was as pretty as him.

“I’m Jisoo.” He put out his hand. “You can call me Joshua.”

You nodded, unable to shake his hand thanks to the problem trashing in your arms earning Joshua’s amusement.

“And who is this?”

“Natalie.” You muttered as he raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Natalie Porkman.”

Joshua burst out laughing, looking away as he covered up a snort, shoulders shaking. You smiled, truly taking in his beautiful features for the first time. Cute.

“This way.” He pointed at absolutely nothing yet you followed this complete stranger, survival skills be damned. “We’ve got a half mile trek ahead of us but it gets a little confusing from here so I thought I’d come pick you up.”

Cute and kind.

You filed it away under ‘to-learn-more-about-when-I-fiigure-out-what-the-fuck-is-going-on-in-my-life.’

The two of you walked side by side, footfall softly echoing in the lush green forest around. Though silence was all you had been craving after the last few days you’ve had, that did not seem like an option since one, Natalie hadn’t stopped whimpering in fifteen minutes and two, Joshua kept glancing at you like you were some sort of ancient artifact.

Not the good kinds.

“What is it?” You said finally, starting a conversation you didn’t want to have. “Never seen a mess of a human before?”

“Never such an old one.” Well, at least you got ancient right. Joshua quickly corrected himself. “I mean I’ve never heard of a demigod surviving undetected in the mortal world for this long.”

Oh but you got ‘human’ wrong. You forgot. Normalcy was never your defining factor but at least now you knew exactly what kind of freak you were.

Almost.

“I wouldn’t call it surviving, more like ‘barely made it’.”

“But you made it.”

“At the cost of what?” You sighed. “Everything is much more complicated now.”

“Don’t worry.” He stopped at a large boulder at the base of an abnormally large tree in the middle of seemingly nowhere. “We’ll all help you.”

“All?”

He nodded, looking at you over his shoulder. “All.”

Your eyes followed his hand as he placed it in the middle of the rock, and after all that you’ve learnt in the last few days, you’re not sure why you were so shocked when it rolled away at his touch. You expected it to lead you to a dark, suspicious cave but a bright light poured out, making you momentarily lose both your vision and your pet who jumped out of your arms and ran into the illuminance, squealing in delight.

“Welcome to Camp Seventeen.”

Joshua grinned, pointing at the scene before him and your jaw dropped in awe.

It was a large opening in the middle of a forest that looked very different from the one you were just trudging through. There were hills on one side, a large lake shimmering far away, fire torches lit everywhere, little cottages scattered here and there, strange symbols topping them all off. Looking at everything curiously, you walked down the cobbled path, only just noticing the two men who were standing at the end of it, both incredibly beautiful. The blonde one was playing with Natalie and the redhead was staring at you with his arms crossed, expression smug.

“Would you look at that, the prodigal babygirl is here at last.”

You frowned, taking an almost immediate dislike despite his pretty, pretty face.

“Jeonghan, play nice.” Joshua muttered, walking over to him.

“Don't patronise me Aphrodite's son, she was supposed to be here at 4-”

“It’s 4:10.”

“-yesterday.” He turned back to you. “You’re a day and 10 minutes late.”

“Well you’re not the one who’s relocating your whole life.” You spat back at him. “I had things to take care of - my dorms, my bills-”

“So much that you missed the meeting with your lawyer.”

“I did ask to reschedule. It’s not my fault he’s an unsympathetic prick.”

“Careful sweetheart.” Jeonghan cocked his head at you. “I’m unforgiving too.”

You stared at him for a whole maddening minute, realizing why his voice seemed so familiar. You had heard him on the phone over the last few days.

“You’re my lawyer.”

“And the best in the city.” Joshua interjected, sensing the rising tension. “Children of Athena tend to be big brained.”

“And hot headed apparently.”

“Natalie says ‘not more than you’.”

All three of you turned to the only other presence there, the man who was carrying your pig, silent as a statue all this while.

“Jun, son of demeter.” Joshua introduced, pulling him ahead. “He’s a natural with anything, well... natural? Mostly plants but he also happens to talk to animals.”

“Domestic ones.” Jun mumbled. “Hansol is better with the wild.”

You greeted him awkwardly, half smiling to be polite and half frowning at the way Natalie was looking up at him with literal heart eyes.

“How did you come across a fledgling?”

“A what now?”

Jun picked your pig up by the arms like a little baby. “She says she’s 10 years old, yet is the size of a toddler. Have you never wondered why your pig never grew?”

“I uh….assumed it was just the kind of breed that didn’t?”

“What an intellectual.” Jeonghan looked at you with faux amazement making you roll your eyes.

Jun, however, still hadn’t met your eye. “Fledglings are creatures of Olympus. Time moves differently there so they don’t really grow like the others in the human world. In that sense, technically, she’s still only a few months old-”

“So you’re telling me this thing, which has lived with me for 10 odd years, is….magical?”

Jun shook his head as Joshua spoke up, clarifying.

“Not magical, that’s a whole different branch of powers and abilities. Your pig is just….not a part of the human world.”

“You betrayer.” You narrowed your eyes at what you thought was your loyal companion. “We were friends. How could I not know?”

Natalie whined sadly in response earning a smile from Jun and of course, yet another snarky comment from Jeonghan. “I don’t speak pig and even I know she said you’re not very bright.”

“Understanding your native language is not particularly intelligent, you swine.” You glared at him, receiving a smirk in response.

“Ten minutes in camp and you’ve already made Jun’s ears red and picked a fight with Han.” You turned to see three men walk up to you, the one in the middle with an amused look and a powerful aura. “You’re gonna fit in quite well Newbie.”

“Seungcheol, son of Zeus and leader of the camp.” Joshua whispered as everyone bowed to him. You imitated them quickly.

“This is Seokmin, Son of Poseidon and Minghao, Son of Ares.” Seungcheol added, pulling out his armor as one of them shot you a cheery smile and the other continued to look at you cynically. “They are our training specialists. Seokmin should help you with your overall fitness and Minghao will train you for combat.”

“C-combat?” You stuttered looking around. “You mean like war?”

“The world of demigods is new to you, don’t try to understand everything in one day.” The Son of Ares sheathed his twin blades behind his back. “Take a few days to adjust to the camp first. You can start training next week.”

You nodded, a little thankful that despite his cold exterior, he seemed to be surprisingly sympathetic of your situation.

“He’s right.” Seokmin chimed. “You should settle here first, not to forget, deal with that lawsuit before you focus on everything else.”

You turned to Jeonghan expecting yet another snarky remark but he looked worried, lost in thought.

When you turned back to Seokmin though, you bit back a scream, your face inches away from a man who appeared soundlessly and seemingly from thin air.

He gave you a cheeky grin with a tilt of the head, “I’m Chan aka Dino, Son of Hermes, Camp cutie, camp hottie and camp leader- ow!”

He rubbed the back of his head vigorously when a small rock hit him with a dull thud. You looked over his shoulder to see Seungcheol aim another one with just a flick of the wrist.

This one Dino skillfully dodged, stepping away from you as Joshua laughed, “Chan is the camp messenger. He’s in charge of all sorts of delivery and transportation.”

“You were the one who picked up my things.” The realisation hit you at last as Dino nodded, pointing at a pile of your stacked bags and trunks beside the entrance.

“Guilty as charged.”

“You were supposed to arrive over an hour ago.” Seokmin narrowed his eyes at the younger man.

“I got held up with some uh distractions.” Chan laughed nervously, scratching the back of his ear. “I didn’t know where to keep her things though, considering you know, she doesn’t have a place yet.”

Seungcheol turned to you to clear your confusion. “Everyone on camp has their own residence but you came on too short a notice so we’re yet to build one of you. We could have housed you in the guest cabin except it was recently damaged in a fight,” He glared at all the boys around him. “So that would not be feasible. Until your own place is not ready you can stay at mine - it is the biggest so you should be comfortable.”

You pursed your lips unsure about his offer. Did you think you would be unsafe in his presence? No absolutely not, the opposite in fact.

You wondered how long you could hold yourself back before unsuspectingly jumping this man and his huge biceps and beefy thighs and manly voice-

“She’s thirsty.”

Taken aback you looked around, searching for the owner of the voice who unnecessarily accurately voiced your thoughts. Instead, you heard the snap of a twig and a low growling sound from the area the forest got more dense. You narrowed your eyes, trying to peer through the overgrown wilderness only to meet a pair of menacing red orbs.

Your adrenaline response barely had the time to kick in before ten, no fifteen, wild hounds ran out of their hiding place towards you, making you scream and hide behind Joshua.

The boys laughed as the dogs circled around you and you gripped onto Joshua’s shoulders terrified.

“Stand back lads.” A silver haired man walked over with a golden haired one beside him, both with a bow and quiver strung over their shoulders. The dogs immediately ran over, aligning themselves in an obedient, straight line behind them.

“Hansol, Son of Artemis and Jihoon, Son of Apollo.” Joshua looked at you over his shoulder. “They are in charge of daytime border patrol. There are all sorts of wild animals out here, hence the hounds, for protection.” As you shuddered, Joshua looked around curiously. “The Son of Hades, is in charge of nighttime patrol. He should be somewhere around here…”

Your eyes widened as the water canteen hanging on Jihoon’s belt flew towards you on its own, making you almost claw Joshua’s arm.

“Wonwoo don’t scare her.” Joshua chastised laughing as you literally see a tall, lean man materialize out of thin air, the canteen in his hand and a smirk on his face. “How long have you been here?”

“The whole time.” He mumbled, handing you the water. “Jihoon said you were thirsty.”

“Not for water.” The blonde man whispered in a way only you could hear, looking entertained at how flushed you were. Did he actually read your mind?

Coming out of Joshua’s shadow, you grabbed the canteen before anyone else noticed, thanking Wonwoo with a hard smile. Tilting your head back you drank up, not noticing how all 10 eyes were intently fixed on you and your throat moving with each gulp. They all took a gulp of their own.

As you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, slowly looking around and noticing everyone’s gaze, the ground below began to shake, fazing no one but you.

Jeonghan pulled you out of the way of what seemed like a large mechanical bull charging towards you with an equally large man perched on top of it. A smaller man arrived right behind, riding a….. A leopard???

“You said you would win.” The muscled man slid off the mechanical creature, patting it. “My baby is faster.”

“I said a cheetah would win. My baby is a tiger.”

“It's a leopard.” You corrected, earning everyone's snickers and the not so threatening stare of its owner.

“It’s a big cat with an identity crisis.” Taking your hand in his, placing a soft kiss at the back of it, the muscle man gave you a fanged smile. “I’m Mingyu, Son of Hephaestus.”

The other man raised his hand. “Soonyoung, Son of Dionysis and that-” He turned to yet another one who was running over, looking frazzled.

“Seungkwan, Son of Hera, owner of a peacock that has yet again disappeared.” He bent over, grabbing his waist, panting and out of breath. “I don’t get why she keeps running away.”

“Maybe because you keep calling him a she.” Minghao nonchalantly glanced at his neatly filed nails.

“I can’t-” Seungkwan ran his fingers through his head, annoyed. “It’s confusing okay, who the fuck named him Patricia then?”

Behind you Jeonghan giggled.

“You coagulation of human evil,” Seungkwan threw his shoe, missing the target. “Now she- He won’t respond to any other name!”

The boys roared with laughter as Seungkwan unsuccessfully chased Jeonghan around, hands flailing everywhere.

Seungcheol walked over to you amidst all the mess, shooting you an understanding smile. “Your life has just undergone a major change, I get that it is intimidating but don’t worry. All thirteen of us are here to help you get through this.”

You nodded slowly, looking around at the boys, doing a quick, confirmatory headcount. “So there’s only thirteen of you?”

And why were all of them so gorgeous??

“Yeah, only.” Seungcheol chuckled, “Trust me thirteen is more than enough, I’ve got to run a very tight ship here.”

“I just assumed there would be seventeen people since, you know, Camp Seventeen.”

“The Oracle apparently told Woozi to name us Camp Seventeen.” He shrugged. “Not sure why.”

You hummed, as all of them gradually stopped behaving like toddlers and turned their attention to you.

“Wait,” The realization slowly dawned upon you. Actually, it hit you like a brick. “You’re all men.”

Seungcheol nodded carefully, like he didn’t know where you were going with this.

“Am I….Am I the only girl in the camp?”

Soft mutters went around as Seungcheol cleared his throat. “Yes and I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable but unfortunately, it was not a choice.”

“It’s not common for a girl to be assigned to an all boys camp,” Joshua stepped up. “But I believe since Jeonghan and Wonwoo are working on the lawsuit that landed you here, the authorities of Olympus must have thought it is better for you to be here.”

“But it’s not permanent.” Seungcheol added. “You can choose to change camps after Quest Season if you wish-”

“What is Quest season?”

Jeonghan let out a loud sigh. “You’ve been here for what, ten minutes? Don't overwork your brain. The world of demigods is complex, you’ll learn everything with time.”

“He’s right.” Seokmin leaned against the tree near him. “Why don’t we first move your things to Seungcheol’s cabin? We’ll let you get settled, then Joshua can show you around camp, walk you through the rules and assign a duty-”

“Except.” Soonyoung looked at you from bottom to top, like he was assessing you. “What kind of duty?”

“Exactly.” Mingyu threw his arm around his friend, his expression matching. “Daughter of Hestia, Goddess of Hearth and Home, what would you be good for in this camp?”

Minghao hummed, walking up to you, bending to meet your eyelevel. “Well, what can a woman be good for in a camp of thirteen men?”

A/n - next will be a detailed post about each member, their background and powers so it's less confusing for those who aren't so familiar with Greek mythology and the series will start after that so stay tuned!

[livwritesstuff]

Eddie is holed up in the office of his and Steve’s home working on some writing when he notices an odd kind of commotion coming from upstairs.

Now, he and Steve have three daughters under the age of ten, so commotion is pretty much a baseline for them, but it’s odd because it sounds like Steve might actually be involved this time, and that makes it especially weird because Eddie was pretty sure that Steve was taking the kids to see a movie to give Eddie a few hours to maybe hit that word count goal (he probably won't, but whatever).

It's just about odd enough for Eddie to go investigate further and, indeed, he finds a very much ticked-off Steve standing outside of their middle daughter Robbie’s closed bedroom door.

“What the hell is going on?” Eddie asks.

Steve rounds on him. 

“She’s driving me insane,” Steve says, “That kid is you in a seven-year-old’s body, and I’m going insane.”

“Wait, can you…” Ed shook his head, “What’s happening?”

“I thought it would be fun to take the girls to that new Nanny McPhee movie because they liked the first one, right?” he starts

“Sure.”

“The second – the second – I suggested it, Robbie starts ranting and raving. Ed, do you know what she said to me? 

“Oh god,” Eddie said warily, “What’d she say?”

“She said sequels aren’t passion projects, Papa. They’re just for money. Who the fuck do you think she learned that one from, Ed?”

And yeah, shit, that might be Eddie’s bad.

“Whatever,” Steve says before Eddie has a chance to respond, “So she doesn’t wanna go – that’s fine – but, shocker, the other two still want to go, and just as we’re walking out the door, Robbie demands that we wait for her because she actually does want to come and now,” Steve pauses to hold in a laugh as Robbie scutters out of her room in the direction of the bathroom, one shoe on and an earring half-in, “Now we’re gonna be so fuckin’ late because this one can’t just throw on a sweatshirt and get in the car.”

Eddie knows for a fact that Robbie had spent the entire weekend in the same pajamas she’d worn to bed on Friday night, but now she’s donned a denim dress with a red t-shirt and black tights underneath. She’s got black combat boots on her feet (just one at the moment, actually), and she’s wearing the leather jacket Eddie had found at a thrift shop in New York to complete the ensemble.

“Look at this kid,” Steve says, following Robbie into the bathroom and watching as she tried to fix her earring with one hand and her hair with the other, “Robbie, it’s August. It’s almost ninety degrees outside. Maybe think about ditching the leather.”

“I don’t care,” she fires back, “It’s about the look, Papa.”

“We’re going to a movie theater. It’ll be pitch black. Nobody will be looking at anything other than the movie. Let’s go.”

But Robbie is already pushing past him with a belligerent, “Outta my way. I gotta get another necklace.”

Steve manages to snag Robbie by the back of her jacket and swing her up into his arms.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he says as Robbie furiously tries to squirm out of his grip to no avail, “Oh, I’m Robbie and I’m four feet tall and I get up-in-arms about everything and I’m gonna wear a leather jacket in August even though I once got heat exhaustion at the mall and gave her dad a fuckin’ heart attack.”

Robbie is in giggling hysterics by the time Steve ends his onslaught of mockery and puts her down.

“What do you think?” Steve asks, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she says, and then she asks, “Can you help me find my other shoe?”

“And now she’s asking me for shit,” Steve comments in disbelief as Robbie ducks back into her room. He looks at Eddie, “Seriously, you need to call Wayne and apologize for everything you must have put him through.”

“Alright.”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

oooh 70 on the prompts list with shane would be so angstyyyyy plz i need to see ur thoughts on this -galaxy

This one's got a little kick to it ough

70) "After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?"

......

"Honey..wh..what is this?"

"Can't you read? God, and I thought Alex was the only illiterate man in town-"

"I know what it says! But..I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"

"Besides being a leech on my income for the past year and not doing a damn thing to make up for it....no."

"..are you crazy? I HAVE been doing my part! Just..take these back to Lewis and tell him you changed your mind. I'm not signing them."

"I don't need your signature. Just mine is enough to finalize it. I've already gotten everything packed for you..since you're too goddamn lazy to do it yourself."

"....what?" Tears stung Shane's eyes as he shakily set the stack of papers on the table, his vision blurring. He stared at you, seeing not an ounce of remorse on your face..but instead pure hatred. "Why would you do this behind my back? I-I thought...you-"

"What? You thought I loved you? Hah." The brief laugh that left your lips was cold. "Who could love a messed-up lowlife like you, Shane? I have a farm to take care of, a community center to restore..I can't have you slowing me down. It was a fun little fling, but now you bore me. I gotta get serious about my work."

"That's...all I was to you? A "fling"?!" A hurtful scowl formed on his face, hands shaking. "What about everything we've-?!"

"I only pitied you. And y'know, if I didn't care about Jas growing up without a father figure..I would've left you in the forest that night. I only stayed and married you to make them happy. But you blew your chance to get your act together..they're gonna be so disappointed in you."

As much as he wanted to respond with a snarky "I didn't know there was a time limit"...he was frozen on the spot, unable to say anything.

What could he say?

This was all so sudden...and just when he thought you two were doing so well and he was starting to have a genuinely positive outlook on life..

He made the horrid mistake of checking the mailbox and finding the dreaded papers.

"I'll say this was 50,000 gold well-spent." You grabbed the papers off the table, looking at the broken man before holding out your hand. "Give me that necklace. I'm gonna sell it."

"No..." Shane shook his head and clutched the mermaid pendant, tears streaking his face as he backed into the corner. "I...I-I'm so sorry, I'll try to be better! Just tell me what I can fix, a-and I'll-!!"

Suddenly you pulled out a dagger and swiped at him, causing him to flinch and shield himself, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation-

Yet he wasn't injured, but when he saw his pendant in your hands now...he felt as though you actually twisted that dagger deep into his heart.

He collapsed to his knees, devastated as you sheathed your weapon and pocketed the amulet you once tied around his neck at your wedding.

By your hands, you two were bonded in matrimony...

And by your hands, that bond was severed.

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm sick of pretending that I care for some lazy ungrateful fuck. Goodbye, Shane."

And with that, you stormed out of the house..and he was left there on the floor, his sobs filling the silence in the now empty cabin.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

It was already late when you returned from your mining trip, and once you finished putting the spoils of your expedition into the shipping bin, you yawned and stretched.

The time was 1:10 AM...and your energy was super drained.

You figured Shane was already sound asleep. The idea of crawling into that cozy bed and cuddling with the man you loved had you eager to take off your boots and put your tools away.

However upon opening the door..you immediately caught a faint whiff of beer, and it left a sinking pit in your stomach.

He did bring home a six-pack case today, and he promised to have it in moderation.

But the kitchen trash showed clear evidence of recently-opened cans.

Four out of the six, in fact.

'Oh man..it happened again..'

You knew that he wasn't gonna be able to quit cold turkey just like that. It wasn't a habit he could flip off like a lightswitch, and that's a fact you've come to accept.

Although he had a few beers from time to time, it was nothing like before. And he would always let you know if he was having some....so to realize he drank over half the case tonight alone was alarming.

Why? You were only gone for a few hours..

You entered the bedroom, finding Shane still awake, hunched over on the bed's edge with his face in his hands. He looked completely torn up, and you've never seen him this bad since..

"Shane, sweetheart?"

Startled, he looked up at you, revealing his eyes to be puffy and red from crying. "O-Oh..hi. You..y-you came back?" He hoarsely asked.

"Of course I did..without having to visit Harvey, thank god." You walked over and sat beside him, frowning. "But more importantly are you okay? What's wrong?"

He tried to respond, but the memories of that nightmare made him physically incapable of doing so...and fresh tears welled in his eyes.

A choked sob came out, and as quickly as he tried covering it up--it failed as similar heartbreaking noises followed.

You didn't waste any time pulling him into a hug.

Leaning against you, he sobbed into your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt in tears. But you just hushed him and rubbed his back. He didn't smell too heavily of beer, although it made you wonder what happened tonight that was bad enough to make him relapse.

Was it...you?

Was you being away stressing him out?

Did he think you wouldn't come back-

"[Y/n]...you sure you..really love me? And all of this isn't...a-a joke?" He hiccupped softly.

Those questions made your heart sink, and you briefly pulled away to gaze at him in sadness. You knew he was still struggling with his self-confidence and self-image, often comparing himself to a "squishy bag of flesh" and feeling "too old", but for him to doubt your love?

Even after talking him off a cliff?

Even after going to the gridball game where you shared that first kiss?

Even after giving him the bouquet and mermaid pendant?

"After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?" You asked softly, not with anger, but with worry.

"Just look at me, and look at every other guy in this town. You could'a had a doctor, someone who can still play gridball, a writer who lives by the sea...even that emo guy seems cool. But you chose me..."

With a sniffle, he clutched the mermaid pendant with trembling fingers. "...this pathetic..l-lowlife who doesn't do shit on this farm. I swear I'd change and get my act together, but I'm letting you down again...j-just like everyone else. And I'm so sorry...I'm such a failure." He sobbed harder.

"Wha..that's nonsense. You do more for me and this farm than you could possibly know." You cupped his face, feeling his cheeks grow wet with fresh tears. "You feed the animals, you water any crops my sprinklers could've missed...and those pepper poppers you give me help keep my energy up in the mines so I can come home safely."

"But..I can't even microwave them right." He whined. "I wanna have the energy to cook like you do-"

"What do you mean?" You frowned. "Last week, you made me a killer omelet when I went to bed angry over a Pepper Rex burning my favorite cardigan."

Shane blinked, searching his foggy brain for that memory, before it dawned on him that he actually DID wake up extra early to surprise you with an omelet he cooked on the stove. Made from Charlie's eggs, of course.

"Ah, that's right..well...I guess I'm good at some things.." He sniffled, slowly calming down.

You chuckled softly, thumbing away the rest of his tears, your fingers brushing over his scruff. He recently shaved it, but it grew back rather quickly--like a crop infused with deluxe growth fertilizer.

"You're good at being my partner, and keeping me company after a long day." You kissed him in the lips. "I love you, Shane. Nothing will change that, even if you have relapses."

"I love you, too..and 'm sorry. I just had this really bad nightmare, and I couldn't fight the urge tonight."

"I understand, I'm not angry." Bringing him back into a hug, you sighed as he squeezed you tightly. "Did you wanna talk about it? I know it's late but..I'm sure it'll help us both."

"...you promise not to laugh?"

"I promise."

"I..had a nightmare you divorced me."

"Huh..really?"

"Yeah, you filed the papers behind my back and said some...pretty hurtful stuff, like how it's "the best 50,000 gold you've ever spent", how what we had was just "a fling", and...how I'm leeching off of you." The longer he went on, the more he struggled to swallow back further tears. "And..you took the pendant back by force. With that dagger you always keep on you."

"....."

"I-It's stupid, but it...just felt so real. And when I woke up and you didn't come back from the mines yet, I thought maybe..it actually happened."

"Shane." You shook your head, leaning back again to bring his face into your hands. "No way would I EVER put that much gold towards something that stupid. This farmwork..it's so much to one person to handle, and I'm forever grateful you're here to help me. You're doing your best, and that's all I could ever ask for."

"Thank you.." He nodded, finally realizing that what he dreamed was nothing more than a ridiculous nightmare.

You smiled and kissed him again, making this one last a bit longer before you pulled away. "I'll get you some water, okay? I don't want my baby to have a hangover in the morning."

Shane sheepishly returned the smile, allowing you to get up and go to the kitchen, while he got comfortable in bed and patiently waited for your return. His hand went to the pendant on his chest, relieved it was still there.

Even though you were probably dead-tired from the mines..you still took the time to care for him when he hit another low. You didn't see him as a chore or a leech on your life.

You saw him as your husband, your soulmate..someone you were willing to love through thick and thin even when some days were harder than others.

Of course, his depression might tell him otherwise, and manifest those insecurities into nightmares.

But you'll still be here for him no matter what.

[jen-with-a-pen]

(In Your) Arms Tonight - 1/2

summary: Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!

That's what he was taught in middle school, right?

pairing: Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson / Worst Wolverine x Deadpool

word count: 1.3k

warnings: MDNI 18+, Wade's POV-ish, blood mention, knife mention, beer mention, Wade's fuckin horny and thirsty y'all, pining, cursing, claws, Wade is looking ✨respectively✨, crude humor and language, slight Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers, no smut (yet, sorry)

a/n: AUGH DONT LOOK AT ME (actually please do I cannot hold this in any longer.) currently part one of two parts. posting the first one now as I am currently traveling for work and won't be back until beginning of September and then part two will be out when i either A. Get home or B. Finish it and format it in between running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Please be patient with me! I will not tolerate "whEreS PaRt Two?¿??" when I literally just told you. Hope y'all enjoy one of the many products of my brain rot. More to come in due time ✨

Not beta'd. Written on my phone and edited via gdocs. Post formatted on mobile because I don't wanna use my work computer lmao

Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes!

If I've missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @tomshiddles | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ❤️

My AO3 | My Masterlist

Read this fic HERE on AO3

❤️ Reblogs and comments are appreciated, as always ❤️

PART ONE | PART TWO

The abs are great. More than great, actually. In fact, they're all Wade thinks, dreams, and fantasizes about. All day, everyday, non-fucking-stop. The moment replays over and over in his fucked up noodle brain like a scratched record. He knows muscle memory is a thing, but what about salivatory memory?

Christ. He's gotta get a grip instead of getting hard.

But what about when Logan isn't flexing hard enough to rip his goddamn suit off?

Wade notices Logan becoming more relaxed around the apartment as the days pass. Adjusting to his new life, coming out of the bedroom earlier than he has to on days when he gets a turn to sleep on a real bed. It's Sofa City most of the time– which he really doesn't mind, he almost prefers it most of the time (since it's in clear sight of the front door) but Wade more often than not likes to insist they share his 'much-too-big-for-lil-old-me' twin XL mattress that's seen more stains than sex in the last year alone.

Logan's compromise is he'll take the bed and Wade the couch half the time. Alone. They're still working on the negotiations of said compromise, but the jury– Blind Al– is still out on recess.

Once he's more settled in, Logan learns that it's okay to kick off his boots and put his feet up. It's not often, but enough that Wade silently wishes he'd rest those big meaty calves on his lap instead. He's been needing a new weighted blanket and Adamantium-coated tibias and hairy legs are so in right now.

Logan doesn't know it, but Wade secretly plays 'ohmygodhetotallylookedatme' whenever he so much as catches a glimpse of Wade oggling at him in his peripherals. Wade can't help it when Broody and the Beast's ribbed white muscle shirt pulls taut against those deliciously plump pecs that he silently prays it'll burst off again. Or he'll rip it off. Or Logan will rip it off. For him.

A boy can dream.

It's especially hard to win at 'OMGHTLAM' when Logan accessorizes– AKA throwing on whatever flannel is in rotation out of the several he finds at the thrift store a few blocks over. Wade feels his throat tighten like his jeans do when Logan wears the forest green one. Really brings out his eyes.

And smile. And lips. And–

It's still summer, so on the hotter days, when sweat glistens on his brow and Wade desperately wishes to be the back of Logan's hand, the tank top comes off. All Logan's sweaty, gloriously muscular body has on is a wonderfully worn-in pair of jeans with the hem of black briefs poking out behind the denim waist.

Do they have AC? Yes. Because Wade would have to plan a funeral for Al if they didn't.

But when she's out and about, he likes to turn it off and let the New York heat wave run its course. Sure, it leaves him sticky and gross, but he'd rather be sticky and gross and hard when he can help it.

Luckily, Blind Al is gone for the whole weekend. Some girls trip or a drug mule job. Same difference.

Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!

That's what he was taught in middle school, right?

With the push of a button and a sprinkle of patience, Logan is splayed out on the couch in a matter of hours with a lukewarm beer in hand while fighting his eyelids from dozing off to some random war documentary. Sweat beads on his temples and there's a slight sheen to his skin from his biceps to the lower V pointing down to between his thighs. He chuckles every so often, mumbling things to himself between swigs of beer and shaking his head when the narrator gets something 'wrong.'

Wade busies himself in the kitchen but his eyes are permanently glued to his roommate. He doesn’t miss the way Logan's stomach rises and falls gently, the rock-hard six pack softening into rolling hills of muscle with a layer of dark hair covering as much surface area as immortal-like hormones will allow. Grown out beard, chops, and messy hair really throw the whole look together; very 2000s, if you ask Wade. His pecs look just as soft as a pair of titties, if not softer, and Wade knows it. He'd do anything to lay his perfect little head on Logan's chest. Maybe lick it too, if he's a good boy. 

Logan perks up suddenly from the couch.

Oh God did he say that out loud?

"Wade?"

Wade doesn't hear him. Can't hear him. Half-refuses to hear him, honestly. Daydreaming takes up a whole lotta brain power and this show isn't running itself. Economy, budget cuts, unprecedented times. You know the shtick. 

"Wade."

Nothing but a bead of drool comes out of Wade's mouth. 

Suddenly, there's a crash right behind Wade's head and now he's awake. He whips around to the ale-spattered wall behind him and back to Logan, who's now standing with claws drawn and chest heaving.

Wade swears he's blushing. 

Eyes wide and brow standing up straight like his good little soldier, Wade looks down at the counter before him to find a bloodbath of a scene: one hand's on a knife while the other spews blood all over the yellowed counter tops; there's remnants of a carrot that was finished five minutes ago, followed directly by remnants of fingers cut down to the last fucking knuckle and slice marks beginning down the back of his hand.

Wade holds up his spurting stump, gashed artery doing a spot-on impression of Ol' fucking Faithful.

"Oh. Huh. Thought I smelled something," he says, staring at his now-tingling hand. Baby fingers for the rest of the night were so worth the staring contest with Logan's beautiful body.

"Fuckin' idiot," Logan mutters, sheathing his claws and striding over to the hall closet to grab a towel. Wade's already stopped bleeding, but just because they might be immune to bloodborne pathogens doesn't mean Al is.

"Gah– get back, damn mutt." Logan shoos Dogpool out of the kitchen to prevent her from lapping up her papa's bodily fluids. He throws the towel in Wade's face and goes to grab the bleach out of the cupboard under the sink. Logan learned very quickly where to find it the first time this happened a month or two ago.

"Sorry baby, Mommy's got a boo-boo and Daddy's just trying to help," Wade coos at Dogpool. "You're too good to me, peanut. Someone oughta wife ya up before I do."

Logan responds with a scowl as he tosses the carrots out and tries to keep the counter from staining. "Why th'fuck did you do that?"

"It was time for a new hand. Old one was so last season."

Wade mops up the blood from his arm and wraps the towel onto his head like he's just gotten out of the shower. Holding up his regenerating stump, he poses like a cover model for Vogue.

"Whatcha think, peanut?" He strikes another pose. "Is this doing anything for ya, big boy?"

Logan grunts as he tosses a wad of paper towels into the trash can. He turns to leave the kitchen, eyes flicking to Wade. It's the quickest once over ever, but Wade sees it. Commits it to memory while he pulls a Flashdance in a chair from the kitchen table and follows Logan's denim-clad ass as it sways off to the bathroom. 

"'M gonna go shower. Don't wait up,” Logan calls before shutting the door and locking it. 

Sighing, Wade looks down at his crotch, pants tent pitched higher and tighter than a first-timer on Everest.

Good thing he's ambidextrous.

[janeyseymour]

do you think we could get one where reader proposes?

Yes, yes you can. I was actually already in the process of writing this!

Fire in My Heart- pt 5 (Can be read on it's own!!)

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

wc: ~4.1k

You don’t really know who to ask, but you want someone’s blessing to propose to Melissa. You can’t ask her mother… she isn’t around anymore. Her beloved Nonna isn’t around anymore. Her dad is alive, but as she so eloquently put it, “That motherfucker is dead to me.”

So you really don’t know who to ask.

“Yeah, Barb,” Melissa comes wandering in. “Yeah. Hey, I just got home, so I have to make sure Y/N is alright and start dinner, but we can definitely talk about this tomorrow morning? …Yeah, okay. Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay, bye.”

And then it hits you. You can ask Barbara for her blessing. The kindergarten teacher is like a sister to your girlfriend. That’s perfect.

The redhead saunters over to you, and while you’re pretty much fully healed from your injuries, Melissa still dotes on you like she did the first week. “Hey, babe,” she leans forward and kisses you softly. She pulls back, and you have a perfect view of her cleavage. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” you tell her. “I’m sick of desk duty though. I can’t wait to get back out into the field.”

“Until the doctor clears you, you ain’t heading back into another burning building,” she tells you sternly. “I ain’t riskin’ nothin’. Did you ice your ribs today at work?”

“No,” you roll your eyes. “I’m really doing okay, Mel.”

She clicks her tongue in a disapproving manner before walking into the kitchen. She returns a few seconds later with an ice pack. “Ice.”

“Mel,” you sigh.

“Ice,” she says again and holds out the ice pack even more aggressively. You snatch it out of her hands and press it to your rib cage, sucking in a breath as you hold it to your skin. She settles next to you before nudging you. She has you sit in between her legs and pulls you to her chest. She kisses your cheek as you relax against her. 

“How was your day, love?” you ask softly as you crane your neck to look at those striking green eyes.

“Those kids sure do keep me on my toes,” she chuckles lowly. “Aiden snuck his hamster into his backpack, and then he lost it in my classroom… I found the fucking rodent in my purse.”

“Good lord,” you laugh weakly. “I don’t know how you do it, some days.”

“I don’t know how I do it some days,” she retorts back.

You ice until the timer on her phone goes off, and she gently maneuvers around you to head into the kitchen.

“I just picked up some stuff to make chili, are you good with that?” she calls to you from the other room.

You smile. Chili is one of your favorite dishes of hers. “I’m good with that. Mind if I join you?”

“As long as you take it easy,” she tells you. “You’ll sit at the island and look pretty.”

“I can help chop up some vegetables,” you roll your eyes as you stand from your place on the couch and hobble into the next room.

“You’ll sit. You’re still injured,” she points the knife that she’s holding at you.

“My ribs are all but healed, and I don’t have to do anything with my ankle to chop vegetables,” you roll your eyes as you gesture to the boot your foot is still in. 

“I gotta take care of my girl,” she rolls her eyes as she starts to chop them while staring at you. You have no idea how she does that- not looking at the vegetables and still not clipping her knuckles with the knife.

You sigh as you pull out your phone and start scrolling through it. You shoot Randy a text.

I’m gonna be in late tomorrow, you tell him.

Oh?

I have some business I have to take care of. Hold down the fort for me?

How late are we talking?

I have to drop off Melissa’s lunch at the school and talk to a few people, but then I’ll be in for my dreaded desk duty.

I gotcha covered.

Thanks.

No problem, Chief.

You grin as you read that last text. Now you know you can grab the septa, a taxi, or an Uber down to Abbott to speak with Barbara. You know her prep is in the morning, so you’ll be able to track her down.

The next morning, you wake up with your girlfriend, chuckling as she makes her lunch. You know you’ll be able to distract her enough that she’ll forget her Tupperware on the counter and you’ll be able to make your way into the school without it seeming fishy. You do everything you can to seduce her, and with the way she’s looking at you, you know you’ve won her over.

“Baby, I’m fine,” you roll your eyes as she makes sure that you’re okay for the fifth time. “Can we just…?”

Finally, she relents. By the time the two of you are finished, she’s running late, and she dashes out the door, leaving her meal on the island. Perfect.

You know Barb has her prep earlier on in the day, so you can time taking Melissa’s lunch out with her schedule. You’ll arrive a bit earlier so you can drop off the redhead’s lunch and then make your way down to the kindergarten wing.

Your phone buzzes around the twenty minutes later. Melissa’s at school.

Forgot my lunch, and it’s all your fault.

I’m sorry? you text her back.

No you’re not, she replies. You chuckle. You really aren’t sorry. Not in the slightest. 

You attempt to take the bus, but it rattles your ribs too much, and you have to get off a stop after you got on. You can practically hear Melissa telling you that she told you so. So you stop into the coffee shop that the two of you frequent quite often, pick up her favorite, and call an Uber. 

As you make your way into the school, Ava sees you.

“Hey girl,” she looks you up and down. “Damn.”

“I’m just here to drop off Mel’s lunch and talk to Barb,” you tell her with a playful roll of the eyes. “I don’ need you flirtin’ with me or nothin’.”

“Girl, I ain’t flirting,” she tosses her hair over her shoulder. “I know when someone can kick my ass for hitting on their girl, and Schemmenti is one of those someones. G’head.”

You make your way down to the second grade wing and grin as you appear in the doorway.

“Miss Y/N!” one of the kids shouts and points over at you. Almost immediately, your girlfriend looks up and over in your direction. The kids all leap up to give you hugs.

“Ah,” the teacher tuts. “No huggin’ her. She’s still recovering from her injuries.”

“From the building jump?!” Jade asks with wide eyes.

“From the building jump… a true hero,” Melissa tells her kids with a sparkle in her eyes. She knows how much the kids idolize you and love you. When she finally returned to school, the next day, she came home with about a hundred cards from her kids for you.

“I was just doing my job,” you rolls your eyes playfully, although you do toss your hair playfully. “Anyway, I’m just here to drop off Miss Schemmenti’s lunch and a coffee. I have to run to work now.”

She takes the tupperware container and the to-go cup of coffee from your hands, gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek, and you’re on your way. You head down towards the kindergarten wing, and there is Mrs. Howard lining her kids up for gym.

“Oh, Y/N,” she smiles at you. “Here for Melissa?… Omari, stand in line quietly please.”

“Actually, I’m here to talk to you,” you tell her. “Mind if I come in?”

“Absolutely,” she says. “I just have to walk my class down to the gym, but then I’ll be back. Feel free to step inside.”

It’s only a few minutes before the kindergarten teacher returns and takes a seat at her desk. She gestures for you to sit in the rocking chair, which you do.

“What brings you around?” she asks.

“I have something I want to ask you,” you sigh softly.

“And that would be?”

You take a deep breath, rubbing nervously at your collarbone as you do. “It’s going to sound a bit silly considering you already are somewhat clued in from our first get together at the house… but… I don’t necessarily have anyone in Melissa’s family that can bless us getting engaged.”

The older woman hasn’t quite put it together yet, so she furrows her brows. “Okay?”

“Melissa’s mother has passed, so has her Nonna. And her father is still alive, but she hasn’t spoken to him since she was twenty-three. I could ask Kristen Marie, but I don’t know how close they are, even having reconciled now. You’re like a sister to Mel. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is… Barb, is it okay if I ask Mel-”

“Sweetheart,” Barbara cuts you off. “Are you asking me for my stamp of approval?”

You bite your lip and nod nervously.

Her eyes well with tears. “Honey, of course I approve. I’ve approved of you since the day we all gathered at your house.”

You break out into a grin. “Really?”

“Of course, dear,” she chuckles through her tears and stands to give you a hug. “And it means so much to me that you would ask me for my approval.”

“Well, you are the closest person to Mel,” you shrug as you return the gesture, patting her back gently.

“When are you planning on asking her?”

“I have a follow up appointment in two weeks to get cleared from the boot, and then I should be cleared by then to go back into the field,” you tell her. “Mel and I were planning on having a celebration with the boys at our house, and we’ve been talking about inviting the Abbott group over for that too.”

“We’ll all be there,” the teacher assures you. “Anything for our favorite firefighter.”

So, two weeks later, you and your girlfriend are sitting in the doctors office waiting for them to come in and give you the go ahead to continue life as normal.

“It seems like you actually took this healing process seriously,” the doctor quips. “Change of pace from your usual road to recovery.”

“She didn’t want to,” the redhead snorts. “I practically forced her to stay bedridden for the first month.”

“It was torture,” you groan and elbow Melissa.

“Well, maybe you should be thanking her, because you should be all good to head back into the field,” your doctor winks at you.

“Oh thank god,” you sigh with relief. “I’m so sick of desk duty.”

“Just no more jumping out of burning buildings,” the doctor tuts at you. “You hear?”

“Loud and clear, doc,” you grin as you mock salute your doctor.

He hands you the paperwork to turn in to your company so that you can fully document that you’ve been cleared, and the two of you walk out of the office hand in hand.

“Congrats, babe,” Melissa tells you as she kisses your cheek. “Celebratory breakfast? I still have three hours before I have to go to Abbott.”

“I told you you didn’t need to take a half day,” you roll your eyes, but you nod. Breakfast sounds amazing.

Over breakfast, the two of you discuss having everybody over for a barbecue, and by the end of your meal it’s planned. You send a text to your boys, letting them know that it was non-negotiable. She sends a text to her friends, telling them that she couldn’t care less if they showed or not, but the invite was there. 

Non-negotiable? Randy texts you separately.

Gonna propose, Tell no one or I’ll fire your ass, you reply back before deleting the texts. There’s no way you’re going to blow this surprise.

You then proceed to have the same conversation with Joe.

Of course, one of them spills the beans to the younger firefighters, but neither is willing to give up the other, and you know you don’t have it in your heart to fire them, so you just threaten the entire squad that if they ruin this for you, there will be hell to pay.

Much to Melissa’s chagrin, all of her crew replies to the group text stating that they will indeed be there. You get a text from Barbara later that she told that crew the invite was non-negotiable- but she didn’t tell them the real reason why. She claimed it’s because the two of you have always shown up for their dinner parties, and this was going to be no different.

So here you are, the two of you cleaning your house up and down. Melissa chuckles to herself as she remembers the nervous wreck she was when her friends came over to meet you for the first time- oh how the tables have turned.

“Amore, they’ve all been here before,” she rolls her eyes as she makes up her charcuterie board.

“Yes, but this is the first time everyone is going to be here and meet each other,” you counter. You shake your hands nervously. She has no idea why you’re this nervous. She has no idea that you currently have her ring in your pocket.

“It’ll be fine,” she tries to comfort you. “They’ll all get along just fine.”

A few hours later, everyone is trickling in. Most of your crew has shown up- Randy and Joe are manning the grills. Jake, Luke, and Zach are shoving as much of your girlfriend’s pasta into their mouths as they can, and the rest are sitting around your lawn and patio chatting with the elementary school teachers. While Melissa is playing perfect hostess, Barbara saunters her way up to you, trying not to look suspicious.

“You doin’ it?” she asks you quietly.

“Yeah,” you grin and look up at her, only to see your girlfriend coming up behind her. “Yeah! The wine is in the fridge, Barb! Do you want me to get you some?”

The kindergarten teacher raises a suspicious brow at you, but with a stern look from her, she nods. “Sure, dear. Thank you.” She hands you the wine glass, and as you pass by your girlfriend, you give her a gentle kiss to the cheek.

“Are you feeling less nervous, hun?” she asks you as she attaches herself to your arm.

“Just fine, babe,” you try to sound as calm as possible. “A little nervous Joe’s gonna catch something on fire… he’s got a habit of doing that while cooking.” Not a lie. It’s happened before, and you’re willing to bet money it’ll happen again. It just better not be here. He can’t ruin tonight for you.

“Well, lucky for us, we have a whole crew of firefighters, and the chief,” she hip checks you gently.

“I suppose you’re right,” you chuckle nervously, hoping she didn’t feel the ring box when she did that. You open the fridge and pour some wine for Barb before turning slightly. “Do you want a glass too?”

“I was thinking beer instead,” she gives a small shrug. “With the burgers and stuff.”

“I’ll grab that then once I get this wine to Barb.”

“I got it,” Melissa takes the glass out of your hand. “You go hang with your boys.” She turns in the direction of her colleague.

So you do. You hover in between both Randy and Joe, who are all grins as they know exactly what is going to happen at some point today. They don’t know when you’re going to do it, and quite frankly, neither do you. But it’s going to happen.

“Hun,” the redhead comes up behind you and snakes her arms around you. In one hand is a bottle of Yuengling for herself, and in the other hand is a can of Vizzy for you.

“Thanks,” you smile as you lean into her a bit. You take the drink and sip on it. She’s warm, and you can’t help but fiddle with one of her rings on her left hand. You subconsciously play with her ring finger- where the ring in your pocket will be later tonight.

Dinner is ready a bit later, and everybody is sitting around outside. You almost do it right then and there, while everyone is humming quietly as they enjoy the wide spread of food. But you stop when you see that Melissa is stuffing her face with food. She’s enjoying her dinner too much for it to be interrupted right now. You chuckle softly as you watch her practically wiggling with glee. She takes another sip of her beer before kissing your cheek gently.

“See? Everything is fine. Joe didn’t catch anything on fire, and the food is delicious,” she tells you as she rests her hand on your thigh. She squeezes it gently, trying to calm your nerves.

“You were right,” you grin back before taking a bite of you burger. “Shit. Joe really does know how to grill when he isn’t catching it on fire.”

“Oi,” the man you were talking about chimes in from across the table. “I’m a damn good cook. It’s how I got my Linda to marry me in the first place.”

“That’s how I got Y/N to go out on a third date with me,” Melissa chuckles. “I made dinner for our second date, and landed myself a hot firefighter.”

“Yeah,” you throw in. “But Mel didn’t catch her kitchen on fire while cookin’ us dinner.”

That gets a good chuckle from your audience.

The Abbott crew takes to cleaning up dinner and putting out the various desserts that people had brought while your gang starts putting together the fire pit.

“When are you gonna do it, Chief?” Zach asks as he practically bounces on his toes.

“I swear, you’re more excited about it than I am,” you chuckle.

“I want you guys to get engaged so Luke and I can be beer boys!”

“Hell yeah,” Luke jumps into the conversation. “Fuck flower girls when you could have beer boys!”

You roll your eyes. “Soon. Don’t blow it.”

You’re all sitting around outside, most eyes on you and Melissa as she tells some ridiculous story. You’re lounging in her lap, her leather jacket draped over you. She’s got a tight hold on you, making sure that you won’t fall off of her. 

“It was ridiculous,” she lets go to gesture, and you fall off of her lap and onto the ground. Thankfully, you’re not close enough to the open flame to catch on fire. You chuckle as you dust yourself off, and Melissa looks absolutely mortified that she practically threw you to the ground.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” she gasps, hands flying to her face.

“No, no,” you laugh as you continue to dust yourself off. “I had to get on the ground anyway, so you helped me get there.”

“What?” she furrows her brows.

You turn over and stay on one knee as you produce the ring box from your pocket. “Mel,” you start.

She slaps your arm in shock. “Shut up.” Her hands fly up to her mouth again. “Shut up! What are you doing?!”

“Mel, honey,” you open the box. “It’s you. It’s always been you. I’ve just been waiting for the right time, and now is as good a time as any- with us surrounded by the people that mean the most to us. Will you-”

You can’t finish your question because your girlfriend has tackled you to the ground in a hug.

“Will you-”

“Yes! Yes!” she shouts into your ear.

“Jesus, woman,” you joke as you continue to hold her close. “Will you let me finish asking my question?”

“Yes!” is all Melissa can get out before Barbara cuts in.

“Woman, let her ask!”

“Will you marry me?” you can finally ask the full question.

“Yes!” your girlfriend, no fiancee, yells again before crashing your lips together. There are cheers from all around as the two of you embrace on the ground.

You carefully sit up, the redhead still in your lap as you take the ring out of its box and slip it on her finger. She holds out her hand to get a look at it, and you know it’s the perfect one. It looks like it was made to be sitting on her finger.

The boys are all whooping and hollering that “Chief just got engaged!”, the Abbot clan is clapping and cheering right with them, but all you can see is Melissa.

Barbara walks over to her bag and pulls out two giant bottles of champagne. She knows exactly where you keep your champagne flutes, and she’s brought extra- and starts pouring out the sparkling beverage.

Janine and Gregory help pass them out, and then all eyes are on you, as you are apparently being put on the spot to make some sort of speech. 

You pull yourself and Melissa off the ground, looping an arm around her waist as you do.

You clear your throat. “I know this was a party to celebrate the fact that I was cleared from my injuries, and I’m able to go back into the field. And luckily for me,” you chuckle. “I had one of the best people by my side to help pick me up while I was down. I had my rock, my star, and the sunshine in my life through every icing time, through the physical therapy… through it all. And although I’ve always known it was Mel, this time has only helped solidify that I couldn’t imagine going through better or worse with anyone else… So, while there have been quite a few times that I’ve almost popped the question-”

“What?” the redhead looks at you with a strange look.

“Like… after you first met the guys, when we went to that nice dinner, when I was on morphine in the hospital… a lot of times during my recovery,” you laugh and kiss the side of her head. “And while there were quite a few times I always popped the question, I knew there were two things I wanted in this proposal: for everyone that we love to be here with us to celebrate the occasion, and… to have someone’s blessing to ask you to marry me.”

“What? You didn’t ask-” you shake your head quickly.

“I asked someone that I know means the world to Mel, and someone who is an extended part of our family,” you grin as you look Barb in the eye. You then turn to your fiancee. “I asked Barbara Howard.”

“And I of course said yes,” the kindergarten teacher says with a smile.

“So, thank you all for coming out to celebrate with us, even if most of you didn’t know it was happening,” you finish as you raise your glass in a toast.

“So that’s why Barb said it was non-negotiable that we were all here,” Mr. Johnson realizes loudly.

After the fire pit died out, your guests made their exits with warm congratulations, and you helped Melissa spiff up a bit, the two of you finally retire to bed. You lay down and allow her to curl into your side. She lays a gentle hand over your shoulder, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see the sparkling ring on her finger.

“I have one for you too, y’know,” Melissa whispers to you as she stretches to kiss your cheek. “It’s in my drawer at work… I asked Randy if I could propose.”

You sit up partially. “That bastard knew and didn’t say anything?”

She laughs. “I may or may not have threatened his car, his house, and his life.”

“Once an arsonist, always an arsonist,” you sigh as you settle back down. She curls back into your hold, her head resting gently on your shoulder.

“And now you get to marry into an arsonist family, future Mrs. Schemmenti,” she grins against you.

“Good God,” you whisper to yourself. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that you were marrying into a family that loves fire. How that slipped your mind, you’ll never know.

“You love me,” she mumbles, and you can tell she’s starting to drift off.

“You’re right,” you sigh softly as you kiss her temple. “I do love you.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she mutters.

[harrysdaydream-tpwk]

“I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch- H.S”

summary: Harry and you argue after his show at Wembley and he gets jealous and pissy. Angst ensues

warnings: arguments, swearing, angst with a happy ending

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The door slammed shut behind him, his footsteps heavy, even on the carpeted floor. You sighed, tired and weary. It had been a long night and by the looks of it, it was about to get even longer.

Harry huffed, taking off his shoes with more force than necessary, throwing them in the general direction of his open suitcase. He wasn’t wearing the colourful outfit anymore, looking much more like yours in the black nike shorts and worn-out t-shirt you’ve seen far too many times on him. You stood in the doorway between the ensuite bathroom and the bedroom, watching him quietly as he ran his fingers through his brown hair repeatedly-noting it had get even longer since the last time you saw him.

He looked up at you finally, his eyes stormy and half-lidded. He was mad, furious even and you weren’t totally sure why. You hadn’t seen him for three weeks, the tour taking a toll on your relationship and you had hoped this night would’ve at least be a change to your boring office life, a moment with the man you loved so dearly.

“What is your problem?”, you said demanding, sounding harsher than intended. Your arms were crossed in front of your chest, you yourself still dressed in the outfit you had chosen for tonight’s show. A pink, puffy dress, matching cowboy boots and hat. Hell, you had even put on a boa, going all out.

“My-“, he breathed out, before getting louder, “My problem? What the hell is your problem? We haven’t seen each other in almost a month and you already go around flirting with other guys? At my own damn show nonetheless?” He stood up from where he was sat on the king sized bed, taking a step closer to you.

“What?”, you sputtered unbelievingly. “What the fuck are you even talking about? All I did was talk to your mum and your sister, I haven’t seen either of them since Christmas and you just accuse me of things that didn’t even happen? Fuck you.” Tears gathered in your eyes and he noticed, faltering slightly.

“I saw you”, he started, pointing his finger at you,” Talking to him. I don’t know who he was, I don’t even care. I just know you were laughing pretty hard at his jokes or whatever he was telling you. A little too much to just be friendly.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Ryan-“

He interrupted you before you could even finish. “Oh, Ryan”, he mocked, “Is that his name? Gotta be careful you don’t start moaning his name the next time we fuck.”

He was getting really worked up now, the vain on his forehead popping and you were getting angrier by the minute too. He had always been jealous, even a little possessive, and it was getting on your nerves.

“Ryan is an old friend from school, you asshole. You know him, I invited him to my birthday party two years ago. He’s gay, Harry, so he’s not interested in me and I’m not interested in him. It’s just a coincidence, he told me you were really nice to him when he met you and that he wanted to support you. Although, I don’t expect him to think so highly of you if he knew what you’re throwing at me right now.” You took a deep breath in, the tears finally breaching free. You couldn’t keep them in any longer.

You were exhausted, travelling from home to see him at Wembley, his concert of two hours and then this argument on top of it. The weak and selfish part of you just wanted him to hold you, while the bigger part just wanted to yell at him some more. You missed him and he was treating you so unfairly.

“I missed you”, you whispered, “I just wanted to spend the night with you peacefully, you’re my home, Harry. Why don’t you ever make me feel like I’m yours too?” You let out a sob, slapping your hand over your mouth defeated.

“Oh. Oh, Y/N.” His eyes were soft now, staring at you unnervingly. “Here, sit down, my love. You look like you’ll fall over any minute.” He guided you to a chair nearby, pushing you down gently.

“I’m so sorry”, he whispered, kneeling before you. His face was illuminated by the lights of London outside the big hotel window. “This tour has taken a toll on me, I missed you so much more, Y/N, you have to believe me. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, I just got so upset over the thought of you with someone else. I’m so selfish, I wish I could have you by my side everyday, you know? I love you and I never want to hurt you, not like this. Not over something I have so obviously perceived wrongly.”

You laughed wetly, your make-up probably smudged, making you look like a hot mess. “You know, I’m starting to think that you were right when you sang that you were just an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit that he’s sorry.” He chuckled quietly, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“I forgive you”, you said, kissing his palm, which was still holding your face gently, “But never say something like this to me again. I’d never cheat on you, not in a million chances. You’re my everything.”

“And you’re mine. We’ve got to figure out a way to see each other more, even when I’m touring and you’re working. I can’t go a day without you, without missing your beautiful face.”

You smiled softly, leaning down and he took the invitation to press a gentle, closed- mouthed kiss to your lips, a promise you understood, you accepted.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

lmk what you think<3 haven’t written in a while so i’m a bit rusty! i’m also working on a larger project that should hopefully be up in a few weeks. until then i’ll try my luck with smaller blurbs and one shots. enjoy!<3

[delopsia]

Wolfish | Bob Floyd x Reader

Word Count: 3,800 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: AFAB!Reader, werewolf! Bob, implied werewolf hunter! Reader, unprotected sex, Bob has an undiagnosed praise kink, brief over-stimulation, size kink if you squint, sex against a wall, werewolves doing...werewolf things. Brief Summary: You can't seem to keep your hands off each other today. My late entry for @attapullman's International Bob Floyd Fucks Month!

Your back slams against the locker doors. Metal clatters so loud that it echoes. Bouncing off the walls, rattling around inside of empty crevices, and squeezing through the crack in the door. Had ought to rumble its way across the building, down the street, and right into the unwitting ears of your team. Freshly deployed. Chasing the false scent of the very man between your legs. 

Sure wonder what they would think if they walked in and saw this.

The obscene pressure of a werewolf's hard cock, straining against his sweats, pressing deliciously against your fluttering cunt. Your legs coiling impossibly tighter around his bony waist, sharp hip bones digging into the plush fat of your thighs, fingers trailing up the back of his neck, across short-clipped hair, to tangle in the longer strands at the top. 

His warm nose bumps against your cheek. Blindly guiding himself back to your mouth, sloppy and lazy, little wet noises punctuating every motion, razor-sharp canines nipping at your bottom lip. Such an otherworldly sensation that has your head spinning so fast you fear you'll fall, arms tightening around his shoulders.

"Four times has gotta be some kind of record," Bob's tone rumbles through you like thunder, shaking your bones like fragile leaves in the wind. The cold rims of his glasses bump into you as he draws away, darkened eyes drinking you up like a glass of water in the middle of a sweltering desert.

Your head falls back against the locker, sucking in a breath. "Maybe for you," squirming. Grinding down into the bulge of his cock, absolutely and unequivocally unashamed of putting on a show for him. 

"Keep telling yourself that," stupid wolf with his stupid, dumb head tilt. You can almost picture the puppy ears flopping over, begging for a good scratch. Part of you wonders if his leg would twitch if you found the right spot.

But you certainly don't mean to actually let your fingers slide from his hair and behind his ear. Blunt nails scratching at the skin there, blessed by the sound of his soft inhale. Eyelashes flutter. A boot kicks the floor. Defiantly holding himself together. 

Those sharp teeth glint in the moonlight as his mouth opens. "Gonna be in so much trouble if they catch us."

Funny, you very nearly forgot about them already. Jake, Bradley, Nat. All chasing down a scent you massaged into the fur of a semi-feral feline last night. They'll find the little calico here soon. Jake and Bradley will start arguing over who's in the right; Nat will get fed up and call for backup. If there's anything you know about Javy, it's that he'll be up and have the cat found before the spat is settled.

You only have so much time before they return, badgering you about another bad scent. Even less time to get this wild-eyed werewolf in you. Devilish, you draw yourself closer to him. Nose to nose. Legs so tight around him that your bones ache. "What, not keen on telling a group of werewolf hunters you're a—fuck,"  it hasn't even been that long since the last time you felt his cock twitch into you. There's no reason it should have you getting wet like this. "Werewolf?"

He stumbles forward. Knocking you into the lockers again. Big hands squeezing greedy handfuls of your ass. "Call me a prude, but I ain't much for being hunted, honeycomb." 

On their own, his hips roll forward. Impossibly strong arms working double time to draw you into it. And you're so, so certain that there's a wet spot staining your shorts right now. A sick mixture of your own wetness and his cum dripping out of your abused cunt, damn near sore from how many times he's filled you up today.

And yet, it's still not enough. "You really think they'd hurt you?" Your voice almost strained. Weary hand reaching between your heated bodies. Sliding those flimsy shorts out of the way, relishing in the hitch of his breath, all over the sight of your pussy.

"I don't wanna find out," he grunts, and for a second, you think he's gonna drool.

Your index finger slips between your folds. Gathering up your wetness, skin glistening with it, as your hand rises to his mouth. You don't need to ask for him to part his lips, letting two of your fingers slip past. His hot, wet tongue is so, so soft compared to the canines that brush against your knuckles. Sucks on them a little too eagerly, so content with your taste that his eyes fall shut. 

"Then you'd better hurry up, puppy," you murmur, catching his tongue between your fingers. He can get away at any moment, and yet, he makes no move to. 

Far too gentle, compared to the out-of-control, bloodthirsty werewolf stereotype. 

"Quit calling me that," his speech is a little garbled, talking without a fully operational tongue. But he's reaching down, pushing at the thick band of his sweats, heavy cock damn near falling out of its confines. So flushed and swollen that you reckon it's gotten bigger since the last time you saw it. Audibly slaps against your cunt, between your parted folds, right where he ought to stay for the rest of his life. 

Or, rather, where he ought to stay after he's done with you. 

Bobby has to draw himself back by a damn mile to stroke his big, blunt head down your core, nudging politely at your entrance. You're still so loose, opening easily as he presses into you. Thick, pink tip stretching you wide, bullying his way back into your overfucked, needy pussy. 

A noise draws out of your lips. Starstruck by the drag of his cock, big enough to make the dry, unlubricated glide feel like it's going to split you open. Would hurt if you weren't dripping around him, an obscene mixture of lube and cum spilling out of your pussy, coating him once more. 

"That's it," you breathe, head tilting back, "good boy."

A pitchy whine slices through the air.

You haven't heard that one before. 

Opening your eyes is damn near impossible, and yet, you're finding the strength to force them open. Immediately focusing on his flushed face. "What?" Your giggle is strained. Lungs suddenly too tight. "You like it when I call you that?"

He nods a little too eagerly. "Uhuh."

It's not fair.

Truly, it isn't. He shouldn't be allowed to bat those long, innocent lashes at you. Not when his oversized cock has your pussy aching as he sinks into you. It's a damn wonder he's fit the past three times because he's barely halfway in, and you're already struggling. Hands scurrying behind his neck, nails biting into the lithe muscle of his shoulders. Lungs seeming to shrink with every inch you take of him, running out of space for oxygen.

"'m I hurting you?" He whispers in that fragile tone of his, glasses glinting as he tilts his head forward. 

Your head is shaking before he can even begin to stall his hips. "N...no."

"Your nose is scrunched like it is," and as if you could have possibly forgotten where it's located on your face, Bobby leans in and bumps his nose against yours. So damn warm compared to this chilly little locker room; feels like you've cozied up to a furnace rather than a man. 

Defiant, your head tilts forward, foreheads knocking together. "Because you're big, dummy." 

His eyelashes flutter. "Oh." Struck dumb. 

As if he possibly could have deluded himself into believing that every man on this planet walks around hung like a damn horse. Even you had known it. Could see the fat outline of him in those thin sweats he loves. Blissfully unaware of the way his cock makes its presence known as he walks. 

But he's finally, finally bottoming out in you. Not a damn millimeter of space left for him to fill, sweaty skin flush against your ass. It's a damn wonder that you haven't started waddling from the amount of times you've felt this very sensation today. Once in the comfort of your bed. Again, in the break room, after you got the call that everyone else would be late. And when you'd dared to venture into Bob's office, perching yourself in his lap, kissing beneath his ear until he cracked and let you ride him.

Fatigue has only recently started to settle into your bones, and by the looks of it, Bob is feeling it, too. Pretty eyes closed, completely and utterly uninterested in moving. You'd think he was asleep if he didn't suck in a breath when you involuntarily clench around him.

"Too tired to fuck me, Robby?" You murmur, raising a hand to comb through his messy hair, ruined by your own doing.

He hums, twitching out of you a little, only to push back in just as lazily, "thought ya might be sore." 

"What," stars sparkle behind your eyelids; he's rubbing against that overworked bundle of nerves on every slow pass of his cock, "makes you think that?"

"Earlier," pumping into you a little faster now, finding that same old rhythm that never seems to lose its dizzying charm, "you were muttering about me bruising your pussy."

That...

"You heard that?" You could have sworn you'd muttered that while you were cleaning up last time. 

When he was on the other side of the room.

"I hear a lotta things," chirping, all too friendly. There's no reason why a man should smile so innocently while his hips are smacking into your ass, "like you whining my name in your hotel room last Tuesday."

Images flicker through your memory. The coziness of an expensive hotel bed. Soft blankets and an even softer, golden glow of the bedside lamp in a room all to yourself. Wrapped up in a false sense of privacy as your hand ventured below your waistband.

He'd heard you through the damn wall?

But you can't even be mad because he's squeezing you a little tighter. Every thrust of his hips bounces your body further up the lockers. Knocking the breath out of your lungs. A weakened whine twisting through the quiet air. Too intimate of a sound to be in a communally shared room. 

"And you wonder why I hate most werewolves," writhing. Arms tightening around his shoulders. Heels digging into the meat of his ass. "What else can you do? Smell when I'm turned on?"

"Uhuh," his obedient head nods. Such an unassuming motion that has you clamping down around him. Rips a groan right out of his broad chest. 

His hips shift. The slightest change in angle, and yet he's driving right up into those nerves. Plush tip massaging them head-on. Has you fluttering around him like a damn butterfly. Sent into a never-ending spasm.

"Fuck," you wail. Nails biting into his soft neck. "Bobby!"

And you're vaguely aware of the way he's looking up at you. Big puppy eyes, in utter awe of the sight before him. "There?" 

You're nodding before you've even recognized what he's asking. Clinging to him. Squeezing his big, overheated body to yours like he'll vanish if you don't. Worst of all, he lets you—pretty face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, the rims of his glasses digging into your flesh, where you can hug him even closer. Your cheek squishing against the side of his head.

"Good boy," gasping into his ear, "keep doing that."

A shiver races down his spine. Mouthing at the side of your neck. Whimpering beneath his heaving breath. The oversized palms that cling to your ass beginning to shiver. Slippery with sweat and struggling to maintain his grip. Growling low in his chest, suddenly sharp nails poking and prodding against your flesh as something within him switches gears.

You know it has because the tips of his ears are growing unnaturally fuzzy. Pointed. And in the time it takes for your hand to reach them, they've already turned. Looks as if the ears of a wolf have been glued to the sides of his head. Twisting and turning, sensitive and reacting to every involuntary noise that falls off your tongue.

"Bobby—" you choke. Squirming. Fighting for a glance at his flushed face. Have to tangle your fingers in his hair and yank his face right out of your neck. And he's...

magnificent. 

Glasses smudged by spit and sweat and hopelessly fogged. Strands of soaked hair cling to his glistening forehead. Mouth agape. Impossibly sharp canines glint in the poor lighting. Pink tongue on the verge of lolling out past his lips like a damn domesticated dog, panting in the summer heat. 

And yet, as you push his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, you find that his eyes are the same shade of sky blue. Wide and so, so eager. 

His feet shift, leaning away. You back presses harder against the lockers. A gap forms between your bodies. Just enough for your hand to let go of his hair and dart between. Diving past the hem of your shirt, clinging to your clammy skin, stopping just above his pistoning cock, to find your sore and overused clit. A tingle bolts up your spine.

"Fuck, you're—" Bobby's eyes screw shut.  Grunting low in his chest. A guttural, animalistic noise you've only heard him make once. "Clenching around me so fucking...mhm, shit." 

You reckon he can feel your sudden contraction as well as you can feel the fat swell of his cock head. Driving into you impossibly deeper. As if this sudden wolfiness has made him larger than he was before. His angle hasn't shifted, but his oversized tip rubs right into your g-spot with a vigor that makes your legs tremble around his hips. Head spinning. Tipping back to hit the locker door.

"Robby, Robby, keep, keep—," babbling. Cut short. He's listening. He's listening. Rubbing right into those little nerves over and over and over. You're not sure if the heat coiling in your belly is from his cock or your fingers. "Fuck, good boy."

"You gotta quit calling me that," he pants, sentence fractured by a choked moan, "gonna have me following you like a lost puppy for the rest of your life."

He'd look cute with a little blue collar that matches his eyes. But you can't hang onto that idea for long.

"I don't mind the," gasping, "idea of that."

Your body is beginning to tense. Too hot for this little room. The coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter with every thrust of his cock. Pussy squelching with the motion of him, so damn wet that you fear you're dripping onto the floor below. And Bobby is whimpering again. Pitchy little noises that you can't believe are coming from your cunt being wrapped around him.

His pretty mouth can't stay shut. Already opening again. "I'm...I...I'm—" 

"Uhuh," is all you can manage. Struggling to keep your eyes open. Legs growing tighter and tighter around him until, until, until—

Your back arches off the lockers with a silent cry. Thrust up into the clouds. Head spinning like a top. Spasming and cumming around his big, oversized cock without another warning. And you're only vaguely aware of the way he cries out at the feeling. Hips stuttering to a halt. Filling your well fucked pussy with his cum for the fourth time today. Twitching inside you. His head falling back into the crevice between your neck and shoulder. 

It may not have been your most intense orgasm of today, but it does take you some time to come down. Brought back to earth by the kisses against your clammy skin and the nimble fingers that massage the plush swell of your ass. 

Bobby looks normal again. Not a single wolfish feature to be found. Back to your same old, soft-eyed tech guy. The one who has deceived you into thinking he was human for so, so many years. Probably would have been able to keep up the act, too, had you not crossed the boundary between friends and lovers. 

Abrupt, his head snaps up. Those wolf ears are back. Twisting and turning like little radar dishes. 

"Shit," he snarls, and before you're even ready, he's sliding out of you. Cum already beginning to spill down your thighs. 

"What?" You're helpless. Don't realize you've been placed back on the floor until he's led you halfway across the room. "Bobby, what is it?"

"Jake. Bradley." Short. Straight to the point. "Down the hall. Coming this way."

There's a tiny janitor's closet in the corner of the locker room—barely big enough for one body to fit inside of it, never mind two. Not the ideal hiding spot, but with no other exit, you've got no choice. It's either hide or be caught.

You can only hope that there isn't a noticeable mess on the floor. Or, worse, a trail leading all the way to the door. 

The door to the locker room squeals open just as the closet closes. Your weary head struggling to catch up to speed, still processing the drop to the floor and the the things Bob has just said to you. Hell. The only reason you notice his arms are around is, is because of the wayward finger that dips beneath your shirt, stroking your skin.

Jake and Bradley are talking. The rumble of the voices is clear, but you can't make out a word that they're saying. It must be something funny because they're laughing. All too loud, uncaring of who they may disturb with their volume or where their voices may wander in the building.

For a moment, you're afraid to breathe. Worrying about the hammering of your heart. As if they could possibly hear the tiny thump of it in your chest.  

Bob's spent cock bumps into your hip. Still free of his confines. Wet with an obscene mixture of his cum and your wetness. Proof of your rendezvous. Frankly, you couldn't bring yourself to go another round, even if you got your hands on a magical reset button. But you can't help but notice that you haven't felt the glide of him against your tongue in such a long while...

Surely, Jake and Bradley won't hear if you...sink to your knees, here...just for a minute or two...

"What are you doing?" Bob whispers, barely audible, even to you. Eyes wide as you reach for him. "You can't—are you serious right now?"

But kicking up a fuss will get the two of you caught. A risk he can't afford to take. Not with those big, wolfish ears still twisting and turning on the sides of his head. The very thing you've all been gathered here to eliminate. 

Daring, your tongue pokes out of your mouth.

The slam of Jake's locker washes over Bob's sharp inhale. Too sensitive for the hellish sensation of your hot tongue dragging against the underside of him. 

His hands rise. Both of them clamping down over his mouth. Eyes screwed shut.

There's a tremor to him that wasn't there before—shaking like a lone leaf in the wind. Helpless to do anything but let you keep licking at him. Long strokes of your tongue. Gathering the sweet mess that clings to his cock. Who could have thought that an identifying characteristic of North American werewolves is sweet cum? You sure didn't until he'd cum in your mouth that first time.

Hell, he didn't even know. 

It's too dark to see his face, but you can feel his eyes boring holes into your shoulders. Hips twitching away, but never making the move to push your head away. Helpless to let you clean his pretty cock with your tongue, from base to tip. 

If there was light in here, you're certain he would be shimmering with your saliva by now. 

Whatever it was Jake and Bradley needed to do, it didn't seem to take them long. Their boots clomp across the floor. Lockers slamming shut. Loud, muffled voices grow faint as they meander down the corridor, surely heading to their vehicles, looking forward to a well-deserved day off tomorrow. 

You suppose Bob has heard the back door chime because his hands fly off his mouth. 

He's fortunate that you're too tired to push him much further. Gathering up the last of him. And just for extra measure, you allow yourself the simple pleasure of wrapping your swollen lips around his tip. Teasing his slit. Sucking gently. 

"You can't just," he babbles, sweaty hand pawing at the side of your face, "baby, baby, 's too much, it's too—"

His cock twitches. A splash of cum hits your tongue. A heavy puff of breath sounds from above.

He's pushing your head away before you can even begin to do it yourself. 

"Monster," his chest heaves as he tucks himself back into his pants.

"I could say the same about what you just put away," you grin. Rising back up to your feet. He wipes that expression off your lips with a big, wet kiss.

His ears are back to normal, much to your dismay. No fluffiness present to greet your fingers as your hands cup the sides of his face, bringing him back in for one, two, three, four more kisses.

And as you slip back into the locker room, you're greeted with a sheet of printer paper taped to the lockers. And in big, messy handwriting, it reads, "Who's been fucking in here?" With a list of possible culprits at the bottom. Their votes have already been cast, accusing Mickey and Rueben by leaving scraggly check marks next to their names.

"Damn," Bob's brows furrow, incredulous, "my name didn't even make the list." He grumbles, already reaching for the discarded pen. 

You can hardly swallow down your giggle. "That just means there's more for us to get away with, my dear." Speaking as innocently as you can. Batting your eyelashes at him. 

His eyes roll.

"I'm gonna dress as an old lady and eat you if you keep quoting that darn fable," but he's laughing. Tossing that pen back where he found it. Already reaching for your hand, squeezing it in his own. And with a limp in both of your steps, you venture back into the hallway and out into the parking lot. Already conjuring up your next big escapade before you can even tumble into the front seat of his truck.

This time, you reckon that you and he should go chasing a false werewolf scent for some fun in the woods. You've even got the little red coat to fit the occasion. The exact same shade of Bob's cheeks as you reveal your idea to him.

And in two days' time, when you all flood into the locker room to change, Jake will point at the tiny, squished inscription of Bob's name on the list and laugh. How funny is that? Somebody really thought their quiet wallflower tech guy was the culprit! 

All Bob can do is look your way and flash you that big, wolfish grin. Unusually sharp canines and all.

[oceantornadoo]

next time (johnny mactavish x f!reader)

heavy angst

“fuck, i’m hit.” you say into your comms, repeating it along with your call sign. you scramble around the side of the building, desperately looking for somewhere to sit or lay down. too bad the terrorists your team was currently hunting down didn’t think of their guests when they designed their hideout.

you lay down with you back to the wall as you put pressure on your wound, only to see blood dripping through your fingers. you’re bleeding too fast for a normal injury, the shrapnel from the bullet having nicked an artery internally. your vision starts going fuzzy as you suddenly turn desperate. you can see the reaper out of the corner of your eye, the room turning cold. not yet, you beg.

“bonnie, where are ye? come on, come on.”

“south-south side of the building. i don’t know where, i can’t - i can’t see.” your vision is fading, years of professionalism going down the drain as the tears start flooding down your face. out of all the bullet wounds you’ve survived, they’ve never felt like this. final.

you hear a skid of boots and a sharp curse down the hall. he’s here, he found you.

“johnny?” you hiccup, trying to hold your hand to your wound while feeling your strength fade.

“right here, leannan. come on, gotta get ye to exfil.” soap tries to prop you up, strong hand covering your own over the wound, a new source of pressure. you’re trying to stand but you can’t, instead emitting a whine of frustration.

“johnny, i can’t. it doesn’t feel right.” he’s the only thing you can see, tunnel vision creeping from all sides. this lovely man of yours, the one who gets on your last nerves daily but silently accepts your knocks at his door after nightmares. he’s always pushing your buttons, trying to see how far you can both take this push and pull before someone gives in. you know he’s meant for you, know him like the back of your hand because he’s you and you’re him, one and the same. all you wanted was more time, you see that now.

he’s murmuring to you in soothing tones while yelling into his comms for the rest of the team, pleading for backup. everyone is too far away, ambushed by unseen forces. it’s just you and him.

“johnny, johnny. look at me.” you leave a bloody handprint as you turn his chin, exerting far more effort than you physically can. he’s looking at you with love in his eyes, the yearning built up over years and years.

“no. not today.”

“i’m sorry. wanted more time with you. we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”

“leannan, no. stop.”

“in the next life, yeah? you’re my man, johnny.”

“yer my woman, leannan. i cannae-“ you stumble and he helps you back to the ground, realizing you won’t make it to exfil.

“cannae do this without you. please.” he’s murmuring silent prayers as you smile weakly, trying to take in his handsome face one last time before your vision goes dark. he pulls your forehead to his and breathes you in, souls entwining.

“next time?”

“always.”

—

inspired by cassian and nesta from acotar in that one scene

[carolmunson]

carol’s at the laundromat — and a new character appears.

The sun is spilling in just right on the silver dryers on the back wall — whir, whir, whirring their spring cleaning drawl.

“Wait, stay juuusssst like that — perfect,” Robin encourages, pulling out her Polaroid camera while you’re bent over loading in her clothes. The flash glares bright in your eyes when snaps the picture and catches it right when the camera spits it out.

“Rob, my back isn’t built to hold this pose,” you laugh, “Also, why am I doing your laundry?”

“Cause you’re so pretty and the light was hitting you perfectly,” she shrugs, snapping another picture at your annoyed face, “Maybe not in that one.”

Her camera goes back around her neck and the half finished blow pop goes back in her mouth, stretching her freckled cheek. A breeze comes in when the door opens, a whoosh of a warm breeze with the promise of a long summer kisses you both — still in jean jackets and long pants.

“That doesn’t answer my question, why am I doing your laundry?” you ask, closing the door and leaning against dryer, feeling it heat up on your back.

She shrugs, “I dunno, you scooched me away when I didn’t separate my darks from my lights.”

“Well, Rob you can’t just—”

There’s a wrap on the front windows, sharp enough to know that its rings on glass. The sweat on your back from the dryer goes cold, you don’t look up when you hear Robin squeal.

“Finally,” she calls out, bounding out the front door that stays open on its hinge, “Took you forever.”

“Sorry, had to wait for Harrington for some wheels,” his voice sends a pit into your stomach, you stay staring at your sneakers on the dirty linoleum tile.

“Where’s my guy?” Robin’s raspy voice muses.

“Over a block or two,” he laughs, “Doesn’t wanna get in trouble or some shit.”

“Whatever,” you can hear her roll her eyes, but even worse, you can hear the crunch of his boots come into the laundromat, “Let me just grab my wallet.”

You look up to see her hold her hand out for her fanny pack which is tucked into her laundry bag still in your hand. You look down and back up with a quiet, “Oh! Sorry.”

The deal takes ten seconds total, but ten seconds is long enough to make your skin crawl. The scent of his cologne mixed with leather and weed fills your nose; he’s standing too close to you and he knows that.

“What, you don’t wanna say hi?” he drawls. Your gaze slowly rises up from his boots to his jeans to his chest to his chin — that smirk, those glittering eyes.

“Do I have to?” you retort, your body numb with uncertainty.

“Heh,” he lets out, grimacing, “Guess not. Figured you —”

“Eddie Munson!” a shrill voice calls from the back room, “Eddie Munson if you’re not here to do laundry I don’t wanna see your face in my business!”

“Aww Marj, you’re breakin’ my heart,” he teases, turning around to shout back at Ol’ Marj with both hands on dramatically holding his chest, “Can’t a guy come here and launder some cash?”

“OUT!” she yells, “Before I call the chief down here!”

He sucks his teeth, shoulders rounding when he drops his hands, “Welp, see ya later Rob.”

“Bye! Tell Steve I — we — said hi!” Robin waves with her Blow Pop in her hands, the click of it on her teeth obvious when she puts it back in her mouth. A final whiff of him lingers in your nose when he whisks out of the laundromat without a second thought, disappearing down the street to Steve’s car.

“You both really gotta talk things out,” Robin tuts, pulling her sandy hair up in a bun at the back of her head with a scrunchie, “It’s like pulling teeth watching you try to be civil.”

“We broke up,” you shrug, “It’s gonna be weird.”

“I dunno,” she shrugs back, “I feel like you guys either gotta fight it out or fuck it out — whatever happened. Just…I miss my friends being altogether.”

“I know,” you sigh, defeated, “We’ll figure it out.”

“Well you better do it soon,” she mumbles, looking over the baggies in her hand, “‘Cause he owes me another dime bag.”

[sluts4matt]

PARTY

pairing: soft!dom matt x mixed!reader

summary: after a long week, you intended on staying home and relaxing. your roommate; however, had different plans dragging you to a close friend's party.

warnings: SMUT, use of weed, nic, and alcohol, p in v, teasing, light choking, pet names (princess), orgasm denial, praising, slight embarrassment kink? (i think)

word count: 3074

authors note: i feel like this is kind of all over the place, i apologize, i haven't written in like a good month or two. not proofread or edited.

it had been a long day, work not going so greatly. that's why as soon as you walked through your apartment door you had greeted your roommate then went to your bedroom, pulling out a pre roll from your nightstand drawer.

you sighed, laying on your back, looking up at the ceiling, lighting the end, then inhaling deeply. the smoke left your lips, your eyes blinking a few times. you jumped at the quiet knock on your bedroom door, coughing slightly.

"it's open," you say. the door opened revealing your roommate naya, her red curls up in a messy pony tail. "bad day at work?" she asked, joining you on your bed.

you passed the joint over to her, which she accepted with a smile bringing it to her lips. "some chick ordered a triple shot expresso with caramel and white chocolate syrup, had me put caramel drizzle on top right?" you start and she nods.

"i repeat her order, she looks at the screen she's goes, yep looks good. then i go to give her the drink and she goes-" you take a breath before talking in a slightly snobby tone, "-'this isn't what i ordered, i need this remade right now' i looked at like, are you fucking serious right now?"

naya started laughing, passing the joint back. "so did you remake her drink?" she asks, "yeah, after arguing with her for ten minutes." you both laugh. "god, i hate being a barista sometimes," you state.

"wanna go to austin's party to take your mind off of work?" she asks. "i dunno, nay. i'm not in the mood to deal with drunks and people trying to make a move on me." you say. "then just stay next to aria the whole time, guys don't really approach her. come on please," she gave you puppy dog eyes, her bottom lip jutting out as she clasped her hands together.

"when was the last time you went to a party?" she asks, you think for a moment. "um, the one josh threw at the frat house that you brought me to." naya giggles, grabbing your hand, "sweety... i'm gonna hold your hand when i say this, that was almost six months ago." you snatch your hand away, giving her an annoyed look.

"that's a lie, we were at a party for channing's birthday two months ago." you defend, "birthday party's don't count, neither do family reunions or get togethers," she points out.

"oh god fine," you sigh. naya squeals, wrapping her arms around your waist. "oh my god thank you!" she says excitedly, "okay go, we gotta get ready," you say, shooing her away. she sticks her tongue out, getting up and walking out.

you stand up, going to your closet to pick your outfit out. once you find your clothes you put on your shower cap and hop in the shower, washing your body. after you're finished you wrap a towel around your body, going back to your room to get dressed.

you slip on the outfit, pairing it with a pair of black thigh high socks and some black mary janes. you take a comb through your hair, getting out most of the knots. naya knocks on your door as you go to apply your eyeliner, "come in."

she opens the door, she had put on a pink crop top and high waisted jeans, she had her hair down and her curls were bouncy. she was holding her black boots, "i'm stealing some of your eyeliner, can't find mine and lord knows you have enough."

"okay," you mumble, consentraiting. she walks up, opening the drawer and grabbing one of the many felt tip liners you had. she sat on the floor, looking into her phone camera, as she applied the eyeliner.

you grab a pink lip liner from your drawer, lining your lips before putting some lipgloss over them. you smack your lips together, to coat the two evenly, smiling at yourself when you were done. you pulled the look together with a pair of hooped earrings, grabbing your silver side bag.

"let's go!" naya says excitedly, grabbing your hand and leading you out the door.

the two of you hopped into the uber that she had scheduled while the two of you were getting ready. the car ride was filled with naya talking about the cute boy who works at the grocery store near the apartment.

"like, i didn't realize how much i liked green eyes until i saw his, they're like emeralds, really they are," she swoons, you chuckle, shaking your head.

"we're here," the uber driver states. you open the car door, walking in. "the party's here," she states loudly, gaining the attention of austin talking to a group of three boys who all looked relatively the same.

he looked over, smiling widely, waving his hand in a motion to come over. "omg, i'm glad you guys' could make it," he says, sporting a glittery sheer top and sparkly silver eyeshadow.

"i'm not sure how long we're staying, we're just stopping by for a little bit," you say, austin gives you a fake pout. "no fun, excuse us," he states to the three boys dragging you and naya to the open bar.

"lets take shots," he says, naya eagerly nodding her head as he grabs a tray with glittery shots on it. "i'm good," you say. "no, sweetheart, we're doing shots," he says, pushing one towards you.

"fine," you mutter, picking the shot glass up. "on the count of three," he says, "one, two, three," the three of you all bring the shot glass to your lips, downing the shot. the liquid burned as it went down your throat. you shook your head slightly, "rookie," naya giggled.

"i'm gonna go find aria, don't die," you say, "have fun!" austin and naya shout after you. you weave through the crowd, looking for a head of pink and black striped hair. you bumped into someone, stumbling slightly, "sorry," he mumbles as you look up.

it was one of the guys austin had been talking to when you and naya first got there. you smiled slightly, "all good, it was my fault anyways, wasn't paying attention," you state.

"matt," he says, sticking his hand out, you smile slightly, taking his hand, "y/n," you state, shaking his hand. "are you looking for someone?" he asks. "uh yeah, aria?" you ask, he looks at you slightly confused, tilting his head slightly. "shorter then me, black and pink hair," you describe, "tattoos, like, everywhere except her neck and face?" you ask.

"oh! she's over there talking to chris," he points to the back of the room. "thanks," you say, going the direction he pointed to. you pushed past people, finally finding the short girl.

"hi!" you shout, the two turn to look at you, "there you are," aria states. "who's this?" chris asks, "my wife," she states loudly, he chuckles but looks slightly confused. "you wouldn't get it," she explains.

"you okay?" she asks, "yeah, fine, just need to take the edge off, i guess," you sigh. she pulls out a pre rolled blunt, lighter and a vape. "i love you," you sigh, taking the strawberry kiwi vape from her acrylics.

she hands the lighter to chris, "light," he does as she asks, bringing the lighter to the blunt that was between her lip. she inhaled, holding it in for a moment, then blowing it out. she passed it to you, earning a smile from you.

"work fucking sucks, why'd you quit," you playfully whine, a pout on your lips as your bring the blunt your lips. "because i would have ended up hitting that bitch of a manager," she states. you exhale the smoke, handing it back to her.

"she's not that bad anymore," you state, "i call bullshit," aria says. the three of you stood, smoking as people pushed past. "i'm gonna go find matt," chris says, "okay," the two of you respond in unison, causing you and aria to break out into a fit of laughter.

"god, i can't believe it's been six months since i worked at that hell hole," she states. "yeah fuck you," you giggle. you remember the day you had met aria, you were both just starting at the local cafe, quickly bonding over the fact that you two were the newbies.

after working together for a couple of months, she had introduced you to austin. austin then introduced you to naya, who quickly became your roommate. the four of you had grown quite close, always spending time with each other.

"lets go dance," she squeals, dragging you towards the center. the two of you began swaying and jumping, the music blasting through the speakers. chris had joined soon after, dragging matt with him. you giggled at the brunette haired by slightly watching his attempt to move his hips to the beat.

"white boys got no rythum," aria states, her hips swaying. "no shit," chris says, moving his shoulders. "oh god," you and aria giggle, shaking your heads at their terrible attempts at dancing.

"like this," aria instructs, her hips moving as her hands run over her body. you do the same, letting the music take over your body. the two of you danced like no one was watching, not that you cared.

the music was blasting and the air was heavy, the room smelled like alcohol and sweat, but at this point you didn't care, you were having too much fun.

you jumped slightly when you felt a pair of hands being softly placed on your hips, "is this okay?" matt whispers, his breath fanning your shoulder blade. you nod, leaning back, placing your hand behind his head, playing with the strands. you felt his thumb slowly moving in circles, causing your heart to speed up.

when you look towards aria, you see her arms wrapped around chris as she giggles at something he had said. the two were in their own little world, the rest of the party seeming to disappear.

your hand raked through matt's hair softly as you moved your hips, feeling his grip tighten. you bite your lip, "so," you state, "how'd you get roped into this party?"

"nick and chris, glad i let them rope me in though," he mumbled. "why's that?" you ask, looking down slightly. "because then i would have missed this," his breath tickling your neck.

you felt your cheeks heat up slightly, your head slightly tilting involuntarily. his lips gently brushed against the crook of your neck, leaving feather like kisses. your breath hitches slightly, closing your eyes.

"come on," he says, pulling back taking your hand as he leads you out the front door to his car. "get in," he says, opening the passenger door. "what are we doing?" you ask, slightly out of breath.

"star gazing," he says, putting the car in reverse and backing out of austin's driveway before putting it in drive and driving it to one of the parks that wasn't visited very often. "actually?" you ask, slightly hoping he wasn't serious about star gazing.

"do you not want to?" he teases, parking the car. he looks over at you tilting his head, one of his hands still on the wheel. you raise an eyebrow at the boy you've known barely two hours, your arms crossing. "what?" he asks, his tone playful.

"you know what," you state. "no, i don't, maybe you should tell me," he says, a small smirk spreading across his face. your eyes narrowed, your thighs squeezing together.

"oh?," he states, his head cocking to the side. his hand finds its way to the side of his seat, sliding it back. "well what do you want to do then princess?" he asks, his arm going behind your seat, turning his body so that his body was facing yours.

your mouth gaped open slightly, not knowing how to respond to the sudden change in attitude. "come on, words," he chuckles, his lips curling into a slight smirk.

"i-," you pause, not knowing what you were about to say. "yes?" he questions, his arm resting on the back of the chair. "i um," you mutter, looking at him with big eyes. "kiss me," you whisper, biting your lip.

"good girl," he praises, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. he pulls you in, his lips brushing against yours, causing butterflies to fill your stomach. his lips molded to yours perfectly, moving in sync.

his lips were soft and warm, your lips parted slightly, allowing his tongue entrance. his hand moves down to your throat, his fingers wrapping around. his other hand moves to your hip, guiding you over the center console to his lap.

your hands run through his hair, tugging lightly, causing him to moan slightly. you feel him buck his hips slightly, pushing up into the thin fabric of your underwear. you gasp slightly, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in.

you feel him smirk slightly, his hand leaving your throat, traveling to each of your shoulders. his fingers slipping the thin straps down your shoulders. his lips leave yours, kissing down your neck, causing you to tilt your head slightly.

"so pretty," he mutters, his hands pushing the fabric down your chest. his head dips, his tongue swirling around your nipple. your breath hitches, your hand moving to his hair, your fingers threading through.

he groans slightly, his hips pushing up into you. "matt," you breathe, his teeth grazing your nipple. you feel him smile against your skin, his fingers tweaking your other nipple.

"fuck," you whine, tugging at his hair. "you want more?" he asks, his hand sliding up your leg to the bottom of your skirt. "yes, please," you whine. his hand slides up your skirt, his fingers pushing aside the fabric of your underwear.

his finger traces your clit, teasing you. your thighs shake slightly, causing him to chuckle, "desperate." you roll your eyes, your fingers tightening their grip on his hair. his hand wraps around your throat, the metal of his rings cold against your neck as he squeezes lightly.

"be nice," he whispers, his finger slowly circling your clit. "or what?" you challenge, his eyes narrow. his fingers speed up, a breathy moan leaving your lips. his fingers work you, making your eyes roll back.

"matt," you whine, pushing yourself down onto his fingers, "fuck," you whisper. his fingers continue working your clit, your breathing becoming uneven.

"you close?" he asks, his voice laced with lust. you nod quickly, your hips rolling. his fingers slow, stopping right before you reach your high. "no, no, please," you whine, your hips bucking.

"awe, does someone not like the consequences of their own actions?" the boy mocks, his hand still holding your throat. "no, please," you whine, looking at him with pleading eyes.

"you think just because you give me the puppy dog eyes i'll give you what you want?" he chuckles, jokingly bouncing your body. you nod your head, a pout forming on your lips. "please," you whimper, your hips trying to push into his hand.

"begging, pretty," he smirks, his fingers starting to circle again. you whine, the coil in your stomach tightening. his fingers speed up, pushing you barely over the edge before stopping again.

"matt, no," you whine, his hand moving from your neck to your shoulder. he pushes you backwards, your back hitting the steering wheel. his hands go to the button on his pants, undoing it before unzipping them. he lifts his hips from the seat slightly, pushing them down to his knees.

his boxers were a light grey, a slight wet spot showing on the front. he palms himself through the fabric, moaning quietly. his other hand goes to your waist, moving your body so that you were directly over him. he pushes his boxers down, moving the fabric of your soaked panties to the side.

he pushes the tip in, moaning. you whine, feeling his grip on your waist tighten as he pulls your body down. "fuck," he curses, his head falling back. your hand grips the back of his seat, his length filling you.

you start to move your hips slowly, moaning softly. his fingers dig into your hips, helping guide your movements. his hips thrust upwards, meeting your slow pace.

"god, you're so pretty," he mumbles, his head tilting up to look at you. his thumb moves down to your clit, rubbing fast circles. your head tilts back, "fuck, i'm gonna cum." "not yet pretty girl," he says denying you, once again.

your hand moves to the top of the seat, the other gripping his shoulder as your hips begin to stutter. "matt, i can't," you whine. "hold on for me, your doing such a good job," he whispers, his hand leaving your hip, tangling itself in your hair.

"fuck, you feel so good," he moans, his hips picking up their pace, slamming up into you. the windows had fogged up, the air in the car humid. he brings your lips down to his, kissing you harshly. his tongue slips into your mouth, his teeth lightly pulling on your bottom lip.

"cum," he states, his thumb moving faster on your clit. the coil in your stomach snapped, causing you to let out a moan, pulling away from his lips as you buried your face in his neck. his hips slammed up into you a few more times before he pulled out, jacking himself off, his cum spilling on your thigh.

"fuck," he whispers, his chest rising and falling. "fuck," he repeats, reaching over to grab a napkin from the glove box. "shit," he mumbles, wiping the cum off of your thigh, throwing it in the backseat.

he lifts you up slightly, pulling his boxers and pants up. he grabs another napkin, cleaning in between your thighs, throwing it in the back.

"did you have fun?" he asks, looking up at you. you giggle, nodding, "yeah?" he asks. "do you want food?" he asks, your head tilting slightly. "what?" he asks, chuckling, "like, did you want to get food, or would you like me to take you home," he clarifies.

"i could go for a burger," you state. "burger king or five guys?" he asks, "five guys," you respond. he smiles, fixing the strap of your top before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @etvar12 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolhoe @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @spencerstits @junovrsmp4 @breeloveschris @skyslondon @stars4chratt @monkeyscientist22 @sophssturn @hearts4chriss @l5ka @sturnlovr @blahbel668 @sturncakez @livvy4realll @raysmayhem-72 @jnkvivi

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM BEYONCÉ'S COWBOY CARTER *  assorted lines from the album, some slightly adapted, adjust as necessary

nothing really ends.

for things to stay the same, they have to change again.

hello, my old friend.

you changed your name, but not the ways you play pretend.

do you hear me?

let me make myself clear.

can you hear me, or do you fear me?

can we stand for something?

now is the time to face the wind.

can you stand me?

this isn't the time to pretend.

they used to say i spoke "too country."

they don't know how hard i had to fight for this.

goodbye to what has been.

you were only waiting for this moment to arise.

i had to leave my home at an early age.

i'm not in my bed.

i gotta choose myself.

i might cook, clean, but still won't fold.

i'm still working on my life, you know.

only god knows.

i got art to make.

i got love to create.

they won't dim my light.

i had to sacrifice and leave my fears behind.

you'll remember me, 'cause we got something to prove.

i will lead you down that road if you lose your way.

i'm born to be a protector.

even though i know someday, you're gonna shine on your own.

i gave water to the soil, and now it feeds me.

there you are, shaded underneath it all.

i feel proud of who i am.

i first saw your face in your father's gaze.

how many times have you let yourself get down?

be fond of your flaws.

i just hope you love yourself like that.

i really hope the best for you.

you're my love, my sweetie pie.

don't let go.

lay your cards down.

i'll be damned if i can't slow dance with you.

don't be a bitch.

there's a heatwave coming at us.

i give you kisses in the backseat.

you make me cry, you make me happy.

just toss it.

they couldn't have me and they never will.

sometimes i hold you closer just to know you're real.

sometimes i take a day off just to turn you on.

i could be your bodyguard.

you should let me ride shotgun.

you know how people like to start shit.

someone better hold me back.

i'm warning you, don't come for my man.

don't take the chance just because you think you can.

the games you play are nothing new.

you don't want no heat with me.

i know my man better than he knows himself.

shoot your shot with someone else.

i'm warning you, woman, find your own man.

i have to have this talk with you.

i really tried to stay cool, but your arrogance disturbed my solitude.

look what you made me do.

if you cross me, i'm just like my father.

you say move a mountain and i'll throw on my boots.

how does it feel to be adored?

think about leaving? hell no.

time moves quickly, and so do i.

i don't need anything.

here's to hoping i'll fall fast asleep tonight.

i need to get through this.

i came here for a reason, but i don't know the purpose.

time heals everything.

i'll be your backseat baby.

been a while since i haven't tried to pull away.

come here, you sexy little thing.

baby, you play too much.

i'm looking super hot.

i'm a fucking animal.

every time you know just what to do.

no one ever got me going quite like you.

girl, i wanna take you home.

they won't be around.

i hope that you know that once i loved you.

history can't be erased.

got you up all night and now you don't wanna leave.

how can a true love go so wrong?

put on a show and make it nasty.

let me sink into your arms.

i died and someone brought me back to life.

i plan to steal your heart again.

who am i to judge?

i will carry on.

baby, i've been waiting my whole life for you.

wherever you wanna go, that's fine with me.

all i see is the best of you.

i'm gonna give you the best years of your life.

you owe me a debt.

i hated you once.

tap me on the shoulder when you reload the gun.

i know they're looking for me.

i fall to pieces each time i see you there.

it don't matter what nobody says.

we can take back roads.

just say what you need from the store.

i'm coming home.

take that shit on the chin.

have mercy on me.

this house was built with blood and bones.

i need to make you proud.

[chrisgetsmewetter]

Agora hills

pairing: switch!matt x famous!black!fem

summary: You and matt go to a fancy restaurant and make a really important decision, but end up in the bathroom.

Warnings: Smut, pet names (mama, ma), hair pulling, public sex. i think that’s it..?

word count: 7.7k

Authors note: Guysss my first fic, this is for @annamcdonalds67 song writing challenge😍🩶 if you pay close attention lyrics from the song happen in the fic so that’s cute. but don’t judge this is my first one, feedback is always appreciated🩷🩷 but yea i hope y’all enjoy (:

Mattyy🩷😍- hey mama, lemme take you out to dinner to take your mind off everything?

wife🩶- yea really need to clear my mind😭 when u need me to be ready?

Mattyy🩷😍- whenever, i’m not gonna rush you today is for u

wife🩶- thx matty i’ll text u 10 minutes before?

Mattyy🩷😍- bet. love u mama

wife🩶 loved this message

you get up and look in your closet and find the sluttiest black dress you can find and put on your black furry boots. you sit at your vanity mirror and curl your fresh silk press.

as you walk outside you see matt close his door and walk over to the passenger side.

“you look gorgeous mama, i love this dress on you” matt says as he opens his arms to hug you “thank u matty, i love ur jeans and tee” you laugh

matt hugs you then slaps then takes your ass in his big hands “stoppp matt” he laughed lightly then closed your door for you then went and got in the drivers seat.

Fast forwarding to the amazing restaurant matt took you to you guys sit down and order. “princess how are u feeling about the whole situation?” matt shifts in his seat a little “well i had some time to actually think about it and ion really give a fuck what yours or my fans think about us. now, i feel like we should come out about our relationship”

“i feel the same way. i hate that nick can’t post those cute pictures he always takes of us for the photo dumps.” matt reaches his hand to mine and holds it and you look at them because you’ve always loved his tattoos.

“me too matty, you know i value pda so much and it irritates me that i can’t embrace it as much as i want.” you sigh a little. “but if you really wanna do this you gotta understand your name is gonna be in the streets and my fans are gonna be looking at you and judging your every move”

niya looks in matt’s eyes for any type of regret or fear. “i don’t care what anybody has to say about us mama, i love u and we’re gonna make this last.” matt leans over the table to give you a ki-

all of a sudden a blonde waitress slams the plates on the table startling both of you. “aren’t you matt sturniolo? not to sound childish or anything but i love the videos you make. i actually suffer with anxiety and depression.” she claims and messes with her hair

you and matt both share a sideye. “uh thanks i appreciate the support.” she then turns her attention to you.

“oh! hello i didn’t see you there..” she says as she looks you up and down

“can you leave now. we have our food and we don’t need anything else.” matt says keeping an angry expression on his face. “um i was just being nice but ok.” she storms off

“thank you matt, i know how hard it is for you to respond to awkward shit like that.” you smile and walk to his side of the booth. “thanks mama, she was just doing too much and i didn’t like how she was looking at you”

1st pov

i kiss him and slowly lower my hand down to his bulge. “ma cmon we’re in public..” he shifts his legs

“it’s okay matty we’re in the back corner and everyone is in the club section. lemme thank you”

matt lets out a relaxed sigh as i go under the table. i unzip his pants and palm his hardness making it grow a bit in his boxers.

“fuck mama, please” i look up at his pretty face and smile while i pull down his boxers

his shaft pops out of his boxers. tip already leaking precum “you gonna be a good boy and be quiet?”

“yes mommy i’ll be a good boy, just touch me please” just when he said that i slammed my soft hand down his throbbing length hearing some gentle whimpers from matt

when he least expects it i shove all of his dick down my mouth earning a loud moan from him

i slowly take it out your mouth “matt what did i say about being quiet?”

“i’m sorry mommy it felt so good” i pull his boxer up and get from under the table to sit on his lap to straddle him

“mama please can we just go to the bathroom i need to be in you” he pleads looking in your eyes “yea cmon hurry up”

i pull his pants down and trail my tongue by his ear..down his neck..and down his arm and kiss every one of his tattoos.

“mommy please please” just as he says that i shove his dick down my throat and start bobbing up and down “ohhhh fuckkk faster mama”

just as i feel his dick twitch in your mouth he pulls out and bends me over the sink “can i?” he says as i look at him through the mirror and nod my head

then he slams his length in and me moan loudly “you like that mama?” he grunts. i nod my head not wanting to speak because of how good he feels

matt grabs my hair softly but quickly and pulls my head up so i can look in his eyes “you need to use words ma before u regret that shit” he says as he starts to go slower in pace and pulls my dress all the way up so he can cup my titties

“yes baby i love it please go faster” i beg and he smiles and kisses my lips “yes ma’am” just as he speeds up his pace there’s a knock on the door..

matt pulls out slowly and mouths to see who it is. “matt what the fuck i don’t wanna do it you do it!?” he rolls my eyes “the faster u answer it the faster we can finish.” i sigh and open the door and see the waitress from earlier

“yes?” i say opening the door which matt is behind, and not showing my bottom half of my dress which he pulls up and gently grazes my heat with his thumb

“you’ve been in there for almost 10 minutes what are you doing?!” the waitress says trying to peak in the bathroom. right as she says that matt slides in two of his long slender fingers and i sharply inhale.

“well if you don’t leave soon then i’m gonna have to kick you out. not matt tho because he isn’t in here i guess.. where is he by the way?” she smirks at me

matt speeds up his pace and adds in his tongue. “ahh.. matt.. is in the mens. restroom. can you leave him the fuckkk… alone he does NOT want you” i say slurring my words a little but trying my hardest to make it unnoticeable

i can feel matt smirking against my heat but goes faster. “ugh i didn’t want his ass anyway. you guys are both ugly. his dick is probably small too” the waitress smiles and walks off

you take a deep breath and thank god she’s gone and you slam the door shut. “fuckkk matt i’m gonna cum” matt gets up and plops you on the sink and gets back to work…

he turns you around and bends you over the sink again going at a ungodly pace while placing his hands on both sides of your ass. you feel your high just as he says “fuck mama i’m gonna cum” you lift your head making him to kiss you and he sticks his tongue down your throat then you feel him whimper which lets you know he’s close

“cmere mama take it down your throat” matt pushes you to your knees and grabs the back of your head and thrusts his dick in your throat.

“mama i’m cumming fuck fuck fuckkk” he lets out a thick load of warm cum in your mouth “swallow it all baby” he smirks and kisses you after you do.

you too walk out of the bathroom and see the waitress staring you both down “we didn’t even get to eat.” you pout “i’ll buy you chipotle on the way home mama i’m sorry”

[butmakeitgayblog]

Hi, I was wondering what your favorite Clexa fic is? To be honest I’m just looking for new ones to read and I know you are bound to have read some amazing ones! I’ve read every single one of yours and I love all of them so much, you have such a beautiful writing style (and your smut is so tastefully written too).

I gotta tell ya out of all the words in English language I never would've guessed Tasteful as one to describe my smut, but ya know what baby I'm gonna take it and keep 😌💕

But yeah I don't really have a "favorite" per se, just comfort ones I read over and over in between trying new stories out.

More Than Warriors by Steklir. Obviously. Head Over Boots. Pie In The Sky. In Love And War And Politics. If you're going for pure smutty fun then pm anything Nachos writes, but special hat-tip to MAGayA au just because. Sassy's EIB series and her Southern au fics hold a very dear place in my heart. I like The Little Pauna series, watching Clarke and Heda growing into an old married couple with their kids 🥺. What Heart's Ease Must Queens Neglect (queen Lexa makes me bite my fist). Anything by Dreamsaremywords and Aphroditeslaw. Literally anything they've put out is gonna be good I promise. Six by Lingeringlillies as well. If you're looking for more g!p/genderbent type stuff that isn't fetishy or hetero coded, SyngularitySyn is a great author both for their works and could probably rec you some great stories too! There's another one that's canon divergent where Clarke is an alpha and Lexa's an omega and it takes years for them to get together? I can't remember the name but it's very angsty and then sweet. Lexa dies as commander but is revived, but has still lost her title when Clarke finally sees her again? She has an injured leg in it? I know I know the name of this damn thing cuz I've read it like 4 times but I cannot for the life of me remember it now.

EDIT: oh fuck me sideways. Also ur-the-puppy's stuff. Their vamp!Lexa story Dirty Dogs is magnifique

Oh also, speaking of dreamsaremywords, she has an extensive (altho I don't think it's updated) rec list that has her top 100 picks! That'd be a great place to peruse 😌