#FUCK IT I LIED I AM SO NOT FUCKING NORMAL I WANT TO EAT GLASS

[harrywavycurly]

You’ve always been one of my fave writers, and I just have to know—in the “It was just one night” series we know Eddie keeps getting jealous of Steve—is that because it’s Steve? Or would he feel that way with anyone flirting with us?Especially in the early stages of pregnancy when it’s not too noticeable yet.

Hiiii babes!! Awe you’re so sweet😭 so in this series it doesn’t matter who it is flirting with you especially in the early stages, Eddie doesn’t like it😂 in his mind it’s because he doesn’t want random people around his baby even though it’s not born yet🙈 but I’ll happily give you some examples of how he handles other dudes flirting with you!💖

-find all things One Night Stand Eddie here✨

*Eddie is over seeing guys flirt with you while you’re about ten seconds away from punching him in the face*

“You have really pretty eyes.” “Thank you…so what movie did you need tickets for?” “Whatever movie you want to watch with me sweetheart.” “Dude..word of advice…she snores and chews with her mouth open…she’s like a damn pig at the water trough.” “Uh…you know what? I think I’m good on a movie right uhm…now.” “Eddie what the actual fuck?” “What? I just did you both a favor.” “How the hell was telling him I snore and eat like a pig at a trough doing me a favor?” “Because you’re pregnant and he never stood a chance.” “He stood a chance…he was cute.” “Okay but you’re still pregnant with my child and I don’t want my baby around that douche.” “You’re so annoying…what are you even doing here?” “It’s your lunch break…so I brought you some food.” “Oh…thanks.”

“Hey you know her?” “Huh? Who?” “That girl that’s with that kid at the pac man machine.” “Oh yeah I know her…I heard she just got out of prison.” “Prison? What…for? She looks so….” “Normal? Yeah that’s how she gets you…she lures you in with her looks and normalcy and then next thing you know you’re talking the last nap of your life and all your money is gone.” “Holy shit…” “yeah…wanna meet her? I’ll call her over here if you want?” “No no I’m uhm…I’m good.” “Whatever you say man…have a good night.” “Who was that you were talking to? He was looking at me like I was…crazy.” “Oh him? No clue don’t know him….here’s your water and Dustin you get three more quarters then we are out of here.” “I don’t like water…” “and I don’t care…now drink it.”

“Edward Munson I’m about to kick your fucking ass.” “Uh…why?” “You told Rick I was a high profile escort?” “Did I?…hmm don’t remember telling him that…I thought I told him you were a recovering kleptomaniac.” “What is wrong with you? Why are you running around Hawkins telling every dude in the city limits horrible lies about me?” “Uhm let’s be so fucking real with ourselves sweetheart you have a stealing problem so…that’s not a lie.” “I stole a shot glass from the hideout because I didn’t realize I still had it in my hand when you walked me out to your van…” “ah so you also have a drinking problem?” “I’m going to kill you one day…I just know it.” “Besides you don’t need all these gross dudes hitting on you…while you’re in this..condition.” “This condition? You mean knocked up with your baby?” “Yes…that’s exactly what I mean.” “News flash Edward I am just carrying your baby…we aren’t together so I can flirt and be flirted with by anyone I want okay?” “No…not okay…i don’t want my baby to listen to you flirt or be flirted with by a bunch of assholes.” “Why? It already listens to you talk…might as well add some variety in the voices of assholes it has to listen to.” “You wound me…now go drink some water and have a snack.” “Don’t tell me what to do jackass…” “yup that’s the mother of my child right there…the picture of niceness.”

[ughgoaway]

Hello I've been sending you a few asks recently so I've decided to be 🎄 anon 🙂

Anyway I was thinking about how Matty would be when teacher is pregnant. Obviously she works full time so he probably can't keep an eye on her as much as he'd like to, and I bet in those early months she comes home from work absolutely exhausted and just wants to lie on the sofa all the time 😴😴

🎄

hi!!! thank you so much for sending asks, 🎄 is yours now!! :))))

as soon as matty finds out you're pregnant, he is treating you like you're made of glass. if you want absolutely anything, he's getting it for you.

"matty. I can get my own cup of tea!! the baby is only the size of a pea right now, I am still allowed to do things, " you say as matty takes the kettle out of your hand and ushers you back to the sofa.

"Ah ah ah. they might be the size of a pea, but they're our pea, and you need to relax and keep them safe. just sit and let me take care of you both sweetheart, it's my job as dad anyway"

I think that you get pretty bad morning sickness the first trimester, and matty fucking hates it. he always sits with you, rubs your back and holds your hair. he makes you herbal tea to try and settle your stomach but nothing works. its just something that happens, but he can't help but feel so awful for you, and kind of guilty it's his baby causing all the sickness.

I imagine he talks to the bump about it after one particularly bad morning, "Hey, little pea, can you please stop making your mum so sick? she's just trying to keep you growing, and it's very difficult when she can't keep anything down. " You laugh at him and stroke his hair.

"matty I don't think they get to choose if I'm sick or not" you giggle as he rests his head next to your bump and continues to try and convince your baby to stop making you sick.

if you have a craving, he's getting it. the first few months all you wanted was crackers, they were all you could stomach so you just ate them endlessly. within a week of you telling matty, he had organised a massive shipment to be delivered to the house, "so you can always have something to eat my love"

you're definitely right with being exhausted in those first few months too, working with kids all day is already tiring - let alone when you're growing a baby at the same time.

I can see you getting home and immediately passing out on the sofa, just fucking knackered 24/7. matty catches on soon enough and starts setting up blankets and pillows for you. basically creating a cocoon for you to rest in.

the fact that he can't follow you around all the time and make sure you're okay is killing him, so he'll do whatever he can.

so if he can't wrap you in cotton wool for 9 months, he'll just wrap you in blankets when you need a nap instead.

he sleeps with you when you ask, spooning you and holding your bump. even when there isn't really a bump yet.

"matty, why are you holding my stomach?" You groggily ask as he lies behind you.

"I wanna hold them!" he defends, rubbing his hands over your non-existent bump.

"There's nothing there yet. They are barely a baby at this point," you say with a smile on your face. his love for this baby was the only thing getting you through these early months, obviously you were over the moon to be pregnant but fucking hell it was hard.

"they're still in there. They've got to get to know their dad early"

Annie also joins you for a nap sometimes. She is normally full of energy after school, but every once in a while, she comes home with heavy eyes and is clearly exhausted.

Annie sees you lie down and comes up to the sofa, gently patting your shoulder to get your attention.

you open your eyes and softly smile at her, "You okay, sweet girl?" You say with a yawn, Annie rubs at her eyes with closed fists and nods slowly.

"Can I cuddle with you y/n? I don't have a baby in my tummy, but I'm really sleepy too, " Annie says shyly, fiddling with the corner of the blanket matty had draped over you.

you pull back the blanket and shuffle back on the sofa, patting the spot in front of you and saying, "Of course angel, jump up and cuddle with me. it would make me feel so much better"

Annie grins and slides into the spot you created for her, and you wrap her up in your arms, tossing the blanket over the two of you.

quickly, you both fall asleep. Soft snores from Annie caught mattys attention as he came in from the kitchen.

walking in and seeing you and annie curled up together, and knowing you were also pregnant was something he would never forget. this was his dream for so many years, and it's finally real and happening. the years of delusions had paid off. his little family was growing, and saying he was giddy was an understatement.

his daughter was always the most important thing in his life, and now he has 3 people that he would die for.

he never thought he'd get a chance at this again. he thought that once he decided to be a dad, that was it for him. no more grand romances, no more falling in love. it was just him and annie, and he was okay with that.

but when he met you, it all changed. he used to dream of you just talking to him, giving him any sort of attention. he could have never imagined that one day you would be dating him, pregnant with his child and be completely in love with his daughter.

he takes a photo of you and sets it as his background, and it stays that way until 9 months later. it finally changed when he snaps the first picture of the 3 of you in the hospital bed, with Annie's new baby brother in her arms and you watching over them with a soft smile on your face.

[stevebabey]

Hi hi hi!! Congratulations so much on your milestone! I haven’t been following for very long but you are one of my favorite Steve writers, bar none. Thanks for sharing your writing with the internet 💖

📽 If I may step behind the beaded curtain of Family Video…

Post-battle, one of the many you’ve shared with Steve, and you just want to stop thinking. Thinking hurts, especially when you think about the fact that you almost just lost each other!! Steve is being lovey and sweet and altogether way too nice while you make out so you bite his lip, ruck your hands through his hair, roll your hips a little harder. He lets you flip him underneath you, but it’s still not enough, so you’re pulling at his mouth and fisting his shirt in ur hands and avoiding eye contact bc if you cry that’s it, it’s over, he won’t fuck you like you want it. But of course he notices, and tries to soothe you, “baby baby honey. Please. Shhhh. Talk to me” with kisses on your cheeks and petting at your hair and worry creasing his brow. And godammit if he doesn’t make you talk to him like a healthy adult who processes their feelings 🙄 before eating you out while holding ur hands for comfort. And maybe he doesn’t fuck you like you want it, but definitely how you NEED it. He always knows 🥺

(I’m sorry if that’s too long I just got so excited to share this and talk with you and if it’s not your style I totally understand and congrats regardless!!!!)

anon u came to the RIGHT place for some tender loving sex i am ALL for that shit!!! also hello!!!! i’m so very pleased to have u here!! u make me blush honey, and yes indeed come behind da beaded curtain hehe - also DAMN i do not know how to shut up apparently, i sat down to write this, fixed myself a g&t and clearly went a bit insane <3 hope u love! 18+ content below the cut MDNI

maybe it’s a bit too much of a close call this time, or it’s just that you’ve been here too many times but either way your nerves are frayed tonight— and the solution lies in steve’s arms. there’s something bout the skin-to-skin that soothes one part of you entirely while setting another part aflame- you love him and you nearly lost him tonight and it sets you about with a burning desire, nearly delirious in how his lips feel against yours, how he feels pressed against you when you grind in his lap and clutch at his shirt- you’re tugging at the fabric but don’t even pause your kisses for a moment, just try to tug it up and off. it’s the first sign to steve that tonight is different, that you’re needier than usual. he murmurs his assurances of love, soft and low, “it’s alright, honey,” he mumbles between the heated kisses, “we’re both alright, we made it out,” and he gives what you want, his shirt off and then your own

but he’s being soft, all delicate and caring with you and normally you adore that- the sweet lovebites scattered along your neck that’ll be gone by morning- tonight, instead it feels like you’re treated like glass, like in your mind maybe he’s still preparing to say goodbye in some twisted final way — so you use your hands to press him down, knees straddling his waist and try your best to let the message sink in; if he fucks you rough, it’s like none of the hurt of tonight happened, like the shit you went through didn’t happen at all. hands in his hair, hips rolling down sinfully and pulling groans from his throat, you reattach your mouths and desperation pours from your lips- you don’t want to slow down, to think about what you’ve both barely escaped and agonisingly, steve can tell — his hands grasp your face and halt your kisses but the moment you pause, you won’t look at him, can’t look at him. suddenly you’re embarrassed and steve is all quiet murmurs, “hey, hey, honey, what’s this? what’s going on with my girl?” and his nose nudges against yours, encouraging u to answer and your voice is smaller than ever as you give some pititful excuse, some line that usually riles him up, “just wanna feel you, stevie, just wanna fuck you,” and you grind down on him

steve knows you better than that though and though he hisses, pleasure spiking at the grind you give, he moves his hands to stop your hips- the movement they pause, his hands climb up and cradle your face as his features give away his worry. there’s a terrible furrow in his brown, eyes pooled with concern and he pulls you close, dozens of kisses against your cheeks, your nose, your forehead as he murmurs to you, “honey, please, talk to me,” and you do exactly what you’d been trying to avoid, fat tears welling in your eyes and shit, now you’re crying but it’s like it’s exactly what steve’s expecting — his arms are ready to hold every piece of you together while you cry shakily, whispered fears and confessions of love he’s already heard before and steve listens to it all- his kisses take your tears and when you calm, fear finally taking the back burner in your mind and breathing normal, he’s ready n waiting for you. “d’you want to just sleep?” he checks, lovingly and your shaking your head no quickly; you weren’t lying before, there’s an itch under your skin that can be sated only by his touch. steve doesn’t seem surprised but rolls the both of you over, kissing you with a bit more fervour now that he knows you’re truly alright - then he’s moving down the bed, kisses against your collarbones, down your sternum and when you voice your confusion steve’s raspy voice just says, “shh, it’s alright, lemme take care of my girl, yeah? you gonna let me take care of you?” his rough hands are already teasing the inside of your thighs so you can’t help but sigh out a yes

and he does take good care of you, one hand intertwined with yours as the heat of his mouth works your cunt, drawing whines and whimpers out- you’re clutching his hair and feeling hot in your skin, squeezing his hand as steve whispers his praise to you, “that’s it, so good f’me, doing so well,” until you’re spilling over the edge and quivering beneath his touch- but steve’s not done and he can tell you aren’t from the look in your eye. he’s somehow managed to melt away an extra layer of stress that you only notice in its absence so when he kisses back up your tummy and stretches you nice on his cock, you keen and melt into him, completely unwound— steve’s just as he was in the beginning, soft and sweet, all i love you’s scattered between the moans but you can tell know this is exactly what you need. you’re chest to chest and only trying to get closer, fingernails clawing at his back- you’d crawl into his skin if you could- and steve fucks you through it perfectly and you somehow come apart at how he just knows — he knows you, knows what you need and when to give it to you and that’s a kind of love you don’t think you’ll ever get used to- it’s a flurry of rushed kisses and sweet words, steve urging you with a rasp to cum with him, pleading and whimpering into your neck until you both come undone. you fall asleep in his arms to the ghost of a kiss in your hair

[capo-cedes]

Strike

Involved: Mercedes D’onofrio, Nicholas D’onofrio, and Freddie D’Angelo Location: -; New York City, New York  Time Frame:-  Notes: After Freddie probe Mercedes for her secret plan, he goes to see Nicholas to enlighten him on it.  

Freddie walked into the dimly lit room and he took a look around. It was pitiful to see what she’d reduced herself to. She once lived in what other people would call a palace but now, she wallowed in a hide out that wasn’t really fit for a queen at all. It was like she was inflicting torture on herself. “I hear you are on a hunger strike…” he breathed, moving to position himself with his back against the wall. 

Mercedes looked up at Freddie for a moment before she looked back out the window. 

“You know that isn’t really good in your state” he said reasonably. “They say you haven’t eaten since Friday…” he sighed to himself. 

“My state” Mercedes repeated a chuckle leaving her. She blinked slowly shifting against the bench beneath her. He mentioned pregnancy as if it were some disease or a curse, though as she thought about it. That is what it was starting to feel like. Another attachment to the individual she wanted to detach from. It was ironic to say the least. “I am not on strike” she told him. 

“Well good, because I asked them to make you something good. And I’m going to watch you eat it..” Freddie said. The last couple days had been uneasy ones to navigate through. Some days he thought he knew what was whirling in her head the others he had no clue. He knew she was scheming up something awful in the wake of Michael’s absence but he hadn’t been able to discover it yet. 

Mercedes would tell him she wouldn’t eat but it was no use in fighting Freddie. She didn’t care to, care to fight or talk. She simply wanted to be left alone. 

“Al is persistent in locating you. He has summoned me twice. Don’t make me go back a third time, He might turn the gun on me then” Freddie added, filling the void of silence in the room. 

Mercedes watched the rain drops fall against the glass. New York had been so dreary the last couple of days. “Freddie, leave me alone..” she told him. She didn’t care about anyone, except for Michael of course. “If it’s not about Michael I don’t care to hear it…” 

“Michael is in safe hands Tiny” Freddie said, trying to both sympathize with her and rationalize with her his thoughts on the current issue. 

“Are you fucking crazy?” she asked him her head whipping in his direction. “I’m the safest place for him to fucking be” she snapped, eyes gazing into his. “It’s so amazing to see you become best friends with a man you told me I didn’t need to be with,” Mercedes said bitterly. “All of a sudden your loyalty lies with the enemy…” she said, rising from her seated position. “I should fucking kill you.” 

“My loyalty lies with you and no one else. It has for years” Freddie told her, his body still resting against the wall. The mention of his death left him unmoved, if there was anything he knew was that one day he’d die by her hands or die defending her honor there was no inbetween. Licking his lips he countered “I care about you just as much as Nicholas does, he loves you. Maybe I  was wrong to judge, but I am at your beckon call…” 

Mercedes chuckled again, “if there is one thing I know for sure it’s that you nor anyone else around me gives a fuck about me” she told him. 

Freddie cleared his throat and he pushed off the wall. “Tell me how I can help you then,” he said. “What are you thinking?” 

“Nothing” Mercedes said as she crossed the room and sat down on a couch. 

“I don’t believe that Tiny, tell me the truth…” Freddie inquired. “What are your plans…” he said. It had gotten back to him some time ago that she was maneuvering behind his back. Assigning people to tasks that he’d normally handle. 

“I don’t have one…” she said gazing at him with a straight face from across the room. 

“I don’t believe that either. I know you, I know how you operate” Freddie said back to her. 

Mercedes turned her head, her hand rubbing her tired eyes. “Then you should already know what my plan is…” 

_____________________

Freddie sat outside of the building hesitantly. He feared Nicholas just as much as he feared Al and Mercedes. He didn’t know what the man would think about him showing up, what if Nicholas thought this was an ambush and killed him. What would you have gone through all this trouble for, to accomplish what? The better question is why did he care? He sighed to himself, he guessed he’d gotten attached to his work, something he vowed never to do. He was just supposed to protect Mercedes, but he guessed in a way protecting her was also protecting the family. “Hey give me 30 minutes and if you hear anything pop off don’t leave me here to die man” he said before he climbed out of the car. He made his way to the entrance and he alerted everyone inside of his presence with a single press of a button. 

Nicholas' frosted stare held the two men sitting across the desk from him firmly in place. “You know Bernice isn’t going to leave.  No matter the danger, but listen… We are doing our best.” His brother said, licking his lips slowly.  “I didn’t ask you to tell me shit I already know-” Nicholas quieted and looked towards the camera feed, just over the men’s heads.  His face stoned over even further.  “What's wrong?” His brother asked, marking the change.   “You're dismissed.” Nicholas said, scanning the other camera feeds.  “Go out the back way and do a search of the block.  If you find anything out of the ordinary you know what to do.”  He rose from his seat as the doorbell alerted the staff.  “Go” He said sternly, pushing the call button on the phone, “Bring Freddie directly to me.” He ordered as the two men scampered from the room. 

Freddie held his breath as he waited, he was practically a sitting duck. He knew Nicholas didn’t really care for him on top of everything else he’d been exposed to. He took a deep breath before the door flew open and before he could speak he was told Nicholas was waiting for him. He nodded his head and hesitated to move before he stepped inside. Gun on his hip he zipped his jacket up hiding it from plain sight. He was escorted to the man and when he was presented with Nicholas he lifted his hands up defensively. “This is a personal visit!” he exclaimed immediately “I wasn’t sent here by anyone, and I’d really appreciate it if you kept this between us, please” he begged sincerely, concern written across his face. 

Nicholas eased himself back into his chair and instinctively, placed his hand on the trigger of the sawed off under his desk.  It was beyond Red to send Freddie here to end him.  A sad but very true reality. He raised an eyebrow as the man entered the office.  “Hand over your guns. And if I like what you say, I’ll let you leave.” That was most likely a lie.  But he owed Freddie a show of good faith.  He liked the man after all. 

Freddie dropped his hands at his sides, he unzipped his jacket and pulled the gun off his hip handing it over to Nicholas. “That’s all that I have” he told him, being completely honest. At the mama words Freddie had to swallow down his pride, he was here to help him and he was threatening to kill him? He was starting to remember exactly why he never got in the middle of her affairs. He was starting to hate himself for even coming to him in the first place. “I came here to try to be a help.”

Nicholas removed his hand from the trigger of the shotgun and relaxed leaning back in his chair.. What game was Red playing? He nodded towards the chair across his desk, letting a bit of his weariness show on his face.  Another person who wanted to help, Bernice, Rebecca and now Freddie. He was tired of people trying to tell him what to do. He knew his wife didn’t care about him. At least his head knew that. Unfortunately,  he was have a hell of a time convincing his fucking heart it was true.  “Is that so?  And Tiny doesn’t know you here… I find that hard to believe Freddie.” 

Freddie dropped down in the chair when he was commanded to do so. Once there in the chair he dropped his head down into his hands gathering his thoughts before he spoke. He shook his head and leaned up “I am a dead man walking but this is bigger than me, it’s bigger than some divorce papers too” he said to him seriously. He chuckled slightly looking past Nicholas before he dropped his head again. “I used to be able to offer her sensible advice,” he told him, eyes fixed on the man's desk. “I’ve known Tiny for a long time, a very long time…” he trailed off. “I ain’t never seen her like this Nicholas” he said looking back up at him. “This shit is serious… in her fucked up mind” he said pointing to his head. “You have waged war with her.”

As Nicholas watched Freddie, his instinct told him the man wasn’t pretending.  Or if he was pretending he was one hell of an actor.  He leaned forward, hanging on the morsel the man was dowling out.  Nicholas shook his head, “That is crazy.  Red has been calling all the shots.  How the hell am I waging war on her? She wants me to give her Michael, right?” 

“You denied her Michael Nicholas” Freddie said looking at the man confused, you had to have common sense enough to know what that would cause. “That doesn’t matter anymore Nicholas, that is what I am trying to tell you” he stressed “it’s beyond that” he breathed. “She put a bounty out on you, she doesn’t know that I know, but the streets came to me” he told him. “I can’t get her to talk, she hasn’t told me one thing since we left here without Michael, but I know her mind is turning” he said gesturing the action with his finger. “And you have to know it’s not just you, everyone you know we lay at her feet or she is going to die trying. She won’t talk, she won’t eat, she won’t do anything - she isn’t going to until Michael is in her hands but I don’t think it’s going to stop then” he spoke. “Tiny…” he pinched the bridge of his nose debating telling the man this next part. “You” he started again, “here” he said, pulling a piece of paper out of his coat and sitting on his desk. “She will be at this location, on this day, at this time” he said pointing to the piece of paper. He couldn’t tell the man she was pregnant, but he could help him intercept a doctor’s appointment, that’s if he went who would know. “You could get her off the ledge, despite…” 

He had known… Or rather he had suspected. The plain truth of it was sort of a relief.  He let out a sad chuckle, at least this was something he was prepared for. “Predictability is a thing where Tiny is concerned. I was trying to protect her and my son.  And once that failed, I had to protect the one who couldn’t protect himself. Fuck.” He cursed, rising to his feet.  His heart pounded in his chest, he wanted to kill someone.  He frowned down at the slip of paper, a time and address scribbled across it.  He lifted the paper from the desk and looked at the man. “When you met me, you would have preferred me dead.  What changed?”

Freddie rubbed his hands together nervously, his elbows resting on his knees. Red was going to kill him for this shit, he just hoped it was worth it in the end. “She is going to fucking kill me” he breathed tiredly. “Because” he started his confession “I am always with her right?” he asked. “Which means I witnessed the tears when she felt abandoned, when you didn’t show up, when she thought she wasn’t worthy of Michael, or not good enough for you, not pretty enough….  She loves you Nicholas. She’s cried an ocean of tears over you, I didn’t even know she could feel until she met you” he said shaking his head slowly. “She’s bitter…. But killing you would be like killing half of herself.” 

Nicholas stared into the man’s eyes.  He nodded at Freddie’s question.  The man wouldn’t leave Red’s side.  Not even when he had asked him to.  He was completely loyal to the woman. Nicholas couldn’t help but avert his eyes as Freddie laid out his supposed crimes.  After Michael's birth he’d felt guilty for not being there in the beginning, but he’d tried to make up for it by not missing a moment with his son now.  The rest of Frieddy’s statements were, however, untrue. Nevertheless, the word drained Nicholas of everything. He crushed the paper in his flist, and took a piece of paper from his desk.  Writing an address on the paper, he slid it over to Freddie.  Falling back into the chair, as if all his bones had melted away, he looked down at this lap for a long moment before he spoke. “That is a safe house for your family.  It was for my mother but I’ll never get Bernice to leave New York.  You’re a good man Freddy. Better than any of us deserve. I don’t believe Red would ever kill you.  But just in case…” He sighed, “I wish I knew how the hell to love Red.  I’ll think about going.  Thank you.” 

He watched the man crush that paper up silently, when he slid him one he looked down at it. “Thanks” Freddie said sadly after the man spoke “I don’t know” he said speaking on his possible death. He could have commented on his statement but he chose not to, it wouldn’t matter in the end because he wasn’t Red. He couldn’t speak for what she wanted but he had a good idea of it. Rather he went or not, his days were numbered “at least with my dying breath I could say I tried” he chuckled mournfully. “Sorry I didn’t come sooner, I thought I could handle it on my own-” he paused feeling his phone buzz and he pulled it out of his pocket and looked down at it. “I gotta go” he said hurriedly, he hopped up from his seat and grabbed the piece of paper. “She’s leaving the safehouse, I gotta go” he said, having added a track device on the vehicle she’d been driving around in lately. “Fuck” he said as he quickly left the man’s office, he rushed to the front door and out of it without a second glance. Freddie ran towards the truck he climbed out of and yanked the door open “drive, go” he said man, you floored it just as Freddie hopped in and shut the door.

[lost-souls-system]

"PSYCHOTIC"

!TW!: Gore, strong language, blood, man-eating monster, and a man getting ripped into shreds by said monster.

~~~~~~~~~~

Key:

Red = Monster

Normal = humans

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"They say I'm crazy, but that's not true right?" I asked her.

"Well, from your recent behavior these past months, you're fine." She said, flipping through her clipboard.

"You didn't kill the person from your last encounter, so I would say that you have improved." She added, the scribbles of the pen on the paper echoing through the room, making me irritated.

"Though, we have to work on your control over your emotions."

My emotions? I see no problem with how I express them.

"Yes you have problems expressing them," she spoke, as if she read my mind.

"You are speaking your thoughts again so I know." She added.

I really have to remove that habit.

"Yes you do," she spoke again, adjusting the frame of her glasses.

"I will see you again next week, but for now, don't kill the night guards." She walked away, her heels clicking on the floor.

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

The digital clock hit twelve. I stared at the ceiling, getting annoyed of the footsteps of the night guard. I turned to look at the big glass mirror. I know that they are watching me. I turned again to look at the CCTV camera on the far corner, looking straight into the lenses.

"Why the fuck are they looking at us?" One of the guards asked.

"From what doc told me, they are one of their most successful experiments." One of them answered.

"Did she tell you anything else?"

"No, it was classifi-" The lights went out.

"What the-" The lights were on again.

"Huh, they must have forgot to pay the electricity bill here." He chuckled.

"Wait, where did they go?" One of the guards, who seemed to be their leader, turned towards the computer to see the experiment was indeed gone.

"Check all perimeters, make sure everything is locked. Then guard the exits and entrances. Don't let them ou-" The lights went out again.

Suddenly, the alarm went off.

"Go now! Go! GO!" He ordered.

A scream was heard through the far corner. Another scream. Then another one.

"I can hear your heart, little one." My voice rumbled through the halls.

"W-who's there!?" He shouted through the hallway.

He ran through the corridors, only to end up in a pitch black room.

"It's very pitiful for a leader who is supposed to read their prisoner's file." I laughed, his face drained of color.

"Aww, is the big bad army leader scared?" I teased, chuckling at his scared expression.

"I wouldn't be surprised, you are a coward, you never actually deserve those medals." I said, circling around him like he was a prey.

"You just pushed those men into danger to save your own. Then you lied about trying to save them but can't. Such a fraud." His eyes showed that he is getting angry, perfect.

"I am not a fraud! I tried to save those men from dying!" He screamed at me, so disrespectful.

I showed my real figure to the built man.

His words faltered as his eyes widened at the height difference between us.

"What? Didn't expect the experiment project 'DREATH' to have a petite figure, no?" I teased him, my razor sharp teeth shining red from my previous kills.

"I am going to have so much fun with you, little one." He screamed as I cut his arm off.

"Tendons, biceps, triceps, delicious." I licked the blood of my fingers.

"W-what are you?" He asked after he recovered from his shock, wincing because of the pain on his shoulder.

"The experiment of project 'DREATH.'" I said biting a chunk out of his teared out arm.

"What the fuck did they make? You aren't human." He shakily went to grab his gun, but realized, his vest is gone and so was his back up weapons.

"You want the truth? Then I will give you the truth." I shrunk myself to match his height.

"I was made to kill, to kill people like you." I started, throwing away the bones of his.

"You were assigned here to test my self control for the past few months. Now, they sent you to ask these questions, right? To check if I am stable enough to be used as a weapon!? I AM NOT STABLE!" I screamed at him as I tear out other arm.

"I AM NOT STABLE! I'M NOT STABLE! I'M NOT STABLE!" I repeated the words, ripping each of his limbs and throwing it into the pile of dead bodies and flesh.

"You are fucking crazy!" He shouted at me, making me chuckle.

"I AM!" I let out an unhinged laugh as I tear out his head.

I stabbed him repeatedly, until he was unrecognizable. My actions slowed to a stop, my heavy pants echoing through my cell. My mouth quirked up in a psychotic smile. They were right, I am crazy.

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

A/N: Happy Halloween! Here is a short one-shot for the spooky season! I might have went over the top on this one, but hope you enjoyed it, and hopefully not traumatized.

[effervescent-fool]

god i am so normal do you understand michael has never known gentleness he has only ever been a soldier a weapon but then he met adam and his whole worldview got shifted all because one nineteen-year-old college student from minnesota looked at him and said "i have to be SO gentle with him" you dont UNDERSTAND because michael then in return got to learn not just what it was like to be loed but to LOVE someone to be TORN APART without them i am so normal about this ARE YOU HEARING ME ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME

[ceruleanchillin]

When You're At The Function F***in It UP And Your Man Walks In (Mayans)

Warnings: Implied sexual content, language, fighting

Characters: Angel, Coco, & EZ

A:

You’re on thin ice as it is sis. The little forest-green dress with the the deep plunge front and slit sides, the one that ended up purchased after your friends hyped you into it. That’s supposed to be in the trash according to one Angel Reyes. That, or reserved for private nights in.

Currently, it was wrapped around your form, helping you grab envious/admiring glances from around the room.

Your hips twisted to the layered bass, using the random behind you for stability. Your friend next to you cheered you on, her inner hype man on full display. There’s a breakdown in the song, and you lose yourself in the rhythm. Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice telling you “Superstar mama, say hi for the gram!”.

Your eyes zone in on Gilly, eyes wide. Everyone knew the Mayans rolled deep when they went anywhere. Where there was one, there was the rest. Especially when it came to the three musketeers and their wrangler, EZ.

Like you were busted sneaking back into your room as a teen, you froze. You narrowed your eyes at your friend who shrugged and mouthed sorry before disappearing.

“Gilly fuck off!” You hissed, moving away from the random. Your eyes scanning the crowded den.

Gilly laughed, tucking his phone into his kutte. “Ayy, don’t get mad at me,” he fluttered his eyelashes and fake coughed into his hand. “I don’t feel so good baby, I’m just gonna stay in tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes at his high-pitched mimicry of your last conversation with Angel.

He wasn’t even supposed to be there. Your friend swore she nixed all Mayan related invites, just for that night, on your behalf. All you wanted was to be able to turn up like you did pre-relationship. Normally you could at clubhouse parties since Angel trusted everyone there with his life. Any party outside of that was a gamble, and Angel could referee like he got a check for it.

Your eyes finally met said man’s across the party and a chill and went down your spine. Angel was propped against the wall across the way, eyes on you.

The rest of party fell away as you made your way over to him, schooling your features into your ‘what did I do daddy?’ pout.

“Nah, don’t come over with that lip poking now.” He shook his head, speaking when you were in range of him.

“And what are you doing wearing this fucking pillowcase out here? What did we talk about?” He pinched the thin strings of your dress.

“Nooo, don’t be mad. I was walking through my closet and it fell on me. Besides, you liked it when I modeled it for you.”

Angel scoffed, refusing to even entertain your comments. Coco chuckled from his spot next to his friend as he lit a cigarette.

“I thought you had club shit, I didn’t even know you’d be here.” You cringed as soon as the words left your lips, the shots you’d taken earlier still putting in work.

“I didn’t know you’d be here either. I thought you were sick. There’s some soup in the car that thought it was getting dropped off. Apparently wrong thoughts is the theme of the night.”

Petty by Angel Reyes.

“Soup? Baby, that’s so sweet.” You tried to pet his cheeks, but he was keeping you at bay.

“You aren’t even sick! Imma give that shit to Gilly.”

“Nooo.” You whined again, still trying to get him to let you touch him in some way.

“Get that bitch you were dancing with to buy you soup.” It was his turn to pout, but there was fire in his eyes as he tracked the guy you’d been dancing with. “It’s all he’s gonna be able to fucking eat in a minute anyways.”

“Sorry I blew up your spot ma, I just wanted to see my plug and get out.” Coco opened the palm of his hand not holding the cigarette and revealed a small bag of weed.

Angel snapped his head towards him, expression incredulous. “Don’t apologize to her, she lied to her man! She gave some puto hope! Get on code!”

“I love you hermano, but this is your guard dog-ass fault.” He pointedly ignored his friend’s heated glare as a girl in the doorway caught his interest, slipping away when she positively returned his gaze.

Angel’s attention was claimed by you once again when you pulled his head down towards you. You smothered his cheeks in kisses, to which he was physically unresponsive.

“I don’t know if I want you kissing on me querida.”

You rolled your eyes. Petty or not, everyone knew Angel’s life force depleted the longer he went without touching you. Even in your tipsy state you could see his fingers literally twitched with the need to take their rightful place on your hips.

“I just wanted to dance like I used to, and you don’t dance. Then you beat down guys who want to. You left me no choice, so let me have kisses.” You locked your arms around his waist, successfully avoiding his half-hearted attempts to push you away.

He scrunched up his face. “How the fuck am I catching strays in this situation? I’m the victim!”

“I’ll make it up to you later if you stop being a hatin’ wallflower and let me grind on you.” Your hips found the rhythm of the slow wind song thumping through the room.

His hands encircled your throat, drawing you closer to his person. Your pupils blew at his darkened expression, your lower half squirming with interest. He pressed his lips to yours, and the party faded to nothing again. His fingers flexed around your throat before closing just enough for him to draw the subtlest gasp from you. He felt it more than heard it over the noise, but it was enough.

He pulled away, licking his lips as you tried to remember where you were and if sin always tasted so good.

“You’ll make it up to me right now in the traitor’s car.” he held up keys you recognized to be Coco’s.

You started to protest on principle, but your body was going through withdrawals from a lite touch (for Angel). He could see the wheels turning, but you were letting him lead you out of the room, palm openly covering your ass.

“Who are you texting?” You asked, more annoyed with how his hands were no longer possessively roaming your body than a real answer.

He quickly pocketed his phone and returned his hands to you. “No one baby.” definitely not telling his boys via group chat to handle the random for him. “Stop worrying about anything other than how you’re gonna get around at work tomorrow.”

--------

C:

It was bad enough you couldn’t make it to New Orleans due to work, and Old Lady “responsibilities”, but this petty fight you were in with Coco was the kicker. You couldn’t even remember how it started, but it escalated back and forth until you weren’t speaking and were back staying at your apartment.

Poor Letty had been reduced to messenger girl, especially now that she had a car. A tug of war with your point being “she was my girl first, that’s how we met” and his point being “she’s my kid, blood first ma” had broken out. You didn’t know what was going to wear through its welcome first, your lack of Coco, or Letty’s patience, but they were competing. It wasn’t like Coco was doing any better if your daily updates from Letty were any indication. He was impatient, tense, chain smoking, and was getting closer and closer to going through with the apology call he was openly fighting.

It wouldn’t be long before you were back to getting your back arched out of shape if that was anything to go by. Not a moment too soon if your own miserable habits were anything to go by. You wanted to use the party to distract yourself, hoping Coco would break first the following day. If not, it was sure to be you.

You spent the whole day throwing your frustrations into decorating your best friend’s backyard. It looked like the French Quarter threw up its best years, but it was the perfect backdrop to lose yourself to some bounce music.

Normally, you could goad Coco into being your twerking post, and that resistance (plus his turned on bi-lingual hypeman compliments in your ear) was everything missing at the moment.

You pouted and weaved your way out of the crowd to your friend who was busy playing good hostess.

“Ah ah, no whining. If you wanna really make it Mardi Gras, shake your ass on a dude.”

You narrowed your eyes, annoyed she shut down and solved your problem before you could whine about it. “Coco hates that shit! Plus he’s spoiled me, it won’t even be the same.”

“Coco isn’t here, and it doesn’t have to be the same, it just has to do.” She turned away from where she’d filled two shot glasses for the two of you. “Besides, we both know your ass is gonna be all in his neck crying about how you miss him tomorrow. Do your thing before you go out sad.”

She clinked shot glasses with you, pleased at her accurate assessment and your sourpuss face.

“Fuck you.” You laughed, voice rough from the burn of the shot.

“Save that for Coco.” She smacked your ass, draped one of the many beaded necklaces hanging off her shoulder around your neck, and sent you on your way back to the crowd of writhing bodies.

It was nothing to find dudes to grind on, and you fell into the synergy. You couldn’t count how many fast paced songs you’d thrown it back to, or how many guys you’d danced with. The stack of beads you’d acquired gave some idea though.

Meanwhile, Coco’s skin was alive with the kind of anger he felt. He’d been seriously contemplating coming to your place and forcing out admissions of how his life wasn’t right without you in it. He couldn’t remember who or what started it, but it didn’t even matter when your scent was starting to fade from his pillow, and his touch starvation was acting up.

All of that went careening out the window when he stumbled upon a pouty Letty, huffing and sucking her teeth at her phone. Turns out you, and “everyone in the goddamn world but me” according to Letty, were at your friend’s blowout Mardi Gras party. Coco knew it was your favorite holiday, but it was news to him that you had any plans since you couldn’t officially go this year. News he didn’t welcome at all, since all of the videos he saw you in you were throwing (his) your ass on multiple dudes. Did you think he wouldn’t fight everyone???

He was already on his bike before he’d even registered leaving the house. He sent a quick summoning call in his boy’s group chat, your friend’s address the destination.

The party was louder and wilder than the videos let on. He’d already spotted his boys by their kuttes, mingling in their respective ways, but didn’t seek them out. They’d find him if he needed them to. Coco on the other hand, needed to find you.

His eagle eyes picked apart the crowd until he spotted you twisting yourself to the rhythm. Coco didn’t know whether to shoot the asshole behind you, or take you away to deal with the feelings you were bringing out of him.

You knew he loved when you brought the South to the West Coast with your hips and ass.

He charged into your space, his hands immediately going for the guy’s arm and snatching him towards him.

“Make a choice cabrón. Get the fuck out, or be an expensive bill and sad memory for your moms by morning.” He pressed his kutte to his person, emphasizing that he was strapped.

The guy raised his palms and quickly exited the scene. Unwilling to test what clearly was a warning that Coco would happily make good on.

You tugged on him, trying to get him to move away from the crowd. Scanning those around you to see who saw or heard, you noticed more than you would’ve liked. They wouldn’t make a fuss, noting his kutte, but still.

“Stop it. What are you even doing here?” You hissed, tugging his arm harshly for his attention.

He turned his gaze, wild with adrenaline and arrogance at his victory, on you. “You should’ve stopped yourself before throwing it back on random fuckers for the internet. This is on you.”

“No, this is on you. If you hadn’t done what you did or said what you said…”. You trailed off remembering that you couldn’t recall what had happened, just the frustration.

“What did I say or do (y/n)?” He noted your visible annoyance that he’d chosen to use your real name instead of a pet name, and with a smirk, he walked you backwards until your back gently hit the fence.

Between not recalling what started the fight, and your man looking amazing, you settled on a pathetic. “You remember.”

“No I don’t, and neither do you.” that familiar prickle of intensity sparked between the two of you.

Everything between you and Coco felt like a live wire dancing back and forth. High energy moments usually ended in either great sex, or separation (sometimes by the force of your friends) to let things cool down.

“I know you’re gonna catch a case if you keep moving like that Johnny. Is that what you want?”

“Nah mujer, that ain’t what I want. I want you home where you belong, but you’re out here playing me instead.” Slender fingers tugged sharply at a few of the beaded necklaces in your stack.

You sucked your teeth and turned your head, ignoring the warm cheeks and butterflies in your stomach at his on-brand admission of missing you.

He placed a hand on the fence next to your head, grasping your chin to turn your attention back to him.

“You’re being a drama queen. I thought I was talking to Angel for a second.”

He threw his head back as laughed, and you got an almost overwhelming urge to kiss him. Or at least bury your fingers in his soft curls, they were begging for it at this po-

“Fuck that, he’s still got me beat. Wait til you see the tantrum he’s saving for you for not getting invited tonight.”

“He was, I just told her to can it because of you. He should be mad at you.” You pouted, but your tone was teasing.

“I could put in a good word for you…you know, if you’re done being petty.” He leaned in, running his lips over the shell of your ear.

“Or I could just offer to throw it back on him to make him forget.”

It was your turn to laugh when Coco tensed, and pulled back from where he’d been teasing you with light touches. You didn’t love him no longer touching you, but faltering him made it almost worth it.

“Or you could take me home and we could both forget…” you clutched at his kutte, leaning into him.

He pulled your hands away by your wrists, his thumbs rubbing over your pulse points.

“Nah, if dancing is this fucking important to you, come on then.” He pulled you after him.

“Cocooo,” you whined, more interested in getting him to touch you again. “Take me home already.”

“My lady wants to dance.” He sat on the outdoor wicker couch and patted his lap. “So dance.”

You stood there in confusion for a second, before what he meant became clear. “I’m not doing that here!”

“You didn’t have an issue earlier, move those hips ma.” He looked between you and his lap again.

Could’ve been the way he was biting his lip, or the laid back way he rested against the couch, but that coupled with lack of access to him, had affirmative words running through your mind.

You playfully rolled your eyes, faking like his request was that expensive. “Only because I want to get you home, and I know you’ll never quit whining if I don’t.”

You slipped onto his lap, the action already drawing attention from partygoers just for the potential of what was to come.

He grasped your hips to still you before you started to move, his palm pressing you back to him by your throat. “And don’t half-ass it yeah…or I might do the same when I get you home.”

--------

E:

It wasn’t until Creeper hit his shoulder and informed him of how hard he was smiling that EZ realized his cheeks ached. He couldn’t help it, he loved watching you dance more than anything.

As soon as you heard a melody you liked, you came alive to it, and stole everyone’s attention. You could find the beat on anything.

That wasn’t his sole reason for cheesing so hard though. Tonight had been the first night you brought your closest friends around the club, and he knew it took great trust in him, his brothers, and your relationship to do that. Your family was on the East Coast, so your friends filled that role for you. Coupled with EZ, they were your world and he thanked you everyday for letting him in.

“Gonna stop calling you boy scout if you keep enjoying the show this much.” Creeper took the seat across from him, half blocking his view.

“Oh you didn’t know how EZ gets down?” Angel’s lips formed that mischievous grin, his eyes taking on the same glint. “You should’ve seen him begging me for tales from Angel’s crib.”

“She and her girls look good out there. Might be too much for you junior.”

EZ rolled his eyes at the ribbing from his brothers, his grin still intact. “At some point I’m gonna be patched, I’m happy to make a cage date for that day. Pretty sure I can take both of you.

Creeper and Angel exchanged exaggerated incredulous expressions.

“See what happens when you go easy on the help?” Angel scoffed. “You sound like you’re hurtin’ for work prospect.”

“Could use some more water.” Creeper shook his water bottle at him, just barely missing splashing him.

EZ rose from his seat, empty beer bottle in hand. “Just remember that day is coming.”

Angel and Creeper laughed raucously at that.

“Don’t get your ass beat in front of your woman lil bro!”

EZ shook his head, choosing to ignore his dumbass older brother. and tossed his bottle in the trash. Slipping through the moving bodies until he was near you, he gently patted your friend who nodded and stepped from behind you.

You jumped, surprised at his sudden appearance, but settled back against him.

“Hey baby.” You gently encouraged him to follow the sway of your hips as he placed his head on your shoulder.

“Hey. I’m back on the slave clock, you want anything?”

You turned to him, his arms instinctively encircling your waist. “Hard tea please.”

“I gotta go to the trailer for that, and get the variety hour table over there a drink. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Don’t rush, but remember, you owe me a dance.” You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He grinned goofily, his attention solely yours until he felt your girls draping themselves over him.

“Can you get us some too Zeke? Thanks.” “Preciate it Z.”

You giggled pushing them off him, but you knew he didn’t mind. You guys were a package deal and he’d take whatever you came with. At least their requests came with pleasantries.

“Sure ladies, not a problem. Don’t let anyone take her while I’m gone.”

They laughed, giving affirmative replies while you rolled your eyes pushed him towards the side door.

Once he began his drink fulfillment quest, it was like every brother wanted something from him. It was a full house that night and he should’ve known once he was no longer under Angel’s break protection, he was back to errand boy status.

Every task he completed was met with teasing about how his rushed pace clearly pointed to him wanting to get back to you. He didn’t argue the fact, just moved faster every time you were mentioned.

Finally, he was able to to focus on your request when he stopped being flagged down.

He was heading to the trailer when one of your friends stopped him.

“One of the other charter’s guys is annoying our girl. She doesn’t wanna make a fuss cause’..you know.” She gestured to his vest to signify his prospect status. “But I know she’s not feeling it.”

He could feel the the muscles in his jaw flex in anger, feet carrying him across the crowded yard. People moved before he could plow through them, which was just as well, because he wasn’t fully in control at that point, and didn’t think he could slow down enough to sidestep them.

The clubhouse had filled considerably since his absence. He scanned the room for you, finding you in a crowd of moving bodies. Your friend was right, you had a good poker face, but your man knew you.

He didn’t waste time physically separating you from the Yuma patch member. He gently put you behind his person, feeling your small hands press against his back through his vest.

“I’m good baby. He agreed this was the last dance.” Your voice belied your annoyance despite your words.

“I’m guessing he said that more than once.”

“I don’t mind, I know clu-“

Yuma interrupted you. “See, she doesn’t mind. Go find something to do with yourself prospect.”

“I’ve got a project in mind.” EZ pushed you back a little more to give himself room to work with.

“Be smart bare vest.” Yuma smirked, his eyes saying how much he’d love for EZ to make the mistake he was thinking about.

In the span of the next few seconds, Yuma’s vest and shirt was covered in beer and Coco had appeared at the same time. If the obvious way he was holding the bottle didn’t give away he did it on purpose, his dry “my bad” and shrug did.

Yuma swung on Coco who anticipated it and dodged it, before firing back with a successful punch of his own. A sea of Mayans of mixed charter filled the space and EZ quickly pushed you behind the bar before he lost you in the shuffle.

Understanding what Coco had done, he got in the middle to give the Yuma patch what he’d been asking for while he was covered by the chaos.

It didn’t last long before the presidents stepped in, but it didn’t have to. He was happy to take the few licks he’d received, because he was pretty sure he’d broken Yuma patch’s nose, and would get away with it.

His brother’s words against theirs, and the presidents didn’t feel the need to make it a drawn out issue. He pretended to have played bouncer instead of active participant, and it all ended with a basic chewing out.

His only thoughts were of you once his rage had subsided, and he could think clearly again. Had he scared off you and your friends? Embarrassed you?

He was happy to find that hadn’t. Your friends couldn’t help but fawn over him and how “perfect for you” he was. He especially enjoyed reveling in the jealousy of Coco, Angel, Gilly, and Creeper. Coco slightly less salty when he got praise for his efforts.

He got his admiration from you later when you patched him up in the trailer, soft voice telling him how sexy he looked to you, and how you appreciated him thinking of you in his position. You held his face and gently went over everything you could find, while he said on his makeshift bed content to let you.

He couldn’t stop grinning, the one that always got him mercilessly mocked because it was now associated with him thinking of you.

“Seriously EZ,” you dabbed at the final cut you hadn’t attended to. “Thank you.”

“I want you to feel safe with me, it’s only fair if you can accept all this shit.”

You grinned down at him, hair framing your face, and he had to remind himself to breathe at the sight. “I do, all the time.”

He cupped the side of your face, unwilling to fight the urge to kiss you any longer.

You laughed speaking between kisses. “I’m not done.”

“It’s ok, I’m good.” He chased your lips, unashamed to want you so badly.

“Ok,” you returned his kisses, your fingers dancing down the nape of his neck. “But I’d like to cash in that dance you owe me…you know, before we get too busy.”

He rose to full height, hands finding both of yours. “I can do that.”

AN:

I don’t speak Spanish, so if I made a mistake feel free to hop in my messages and let me know and how to fix it please. You’re more than welcome to.

1.) I remember seeing a meme vid about this years ago, and finding it hilarious. I could see this happening with these dudes and their personalities. That, and I just really wanted a lil southern culture in a Mayans drabble. 🤷🏾‍♀️

2.) I did a rewatch of the whole series (including the original), and I’m back on the obsession train. Just tryna to be happy before S4 kicks my shit in.

3.) I kept telling myself I wouldn’t end up writing for these fools and here I am in my Ringling Bros. best🤡.

[laketaj24]

Serotonin

Author’s Note: I finally finished something in my drafts after two months. I feel semi accomplished today! Taglist is open, as are requests!!!! Send them… I want them.

Pairing: Colson Baker x Reader

Warning: Smut, public sex, drinking, language

Inspo Song: Why are you here?

 The eyes searing into you from across the club belonged to Meg Styer; you knew of her well, based on Colson’s Instagram, she was the new arm piece. The well-known model had a reputation of making herself known to the exes, even if that meant starting confrontations when they were not needed. She crossed her long russet brown legs; they shimmered in gold, as did her entire outfit. You felt immediately outdone, thinking of the minimal effort you’d put into the outfit or your makeup today. Tonight's outing was not supposed to be about Colson or this new woman; it was about falling out of this fucking slump you'd found yourself in for the past month.

"It’s lively here.” Eric grinned. Straight edge, Eric.

You cringed inside; if your mother could have created someone on an app, Eric would have been him. Without a doubt, he was handsome, with dark hair, delicate features, and not a tattoo or piercing in sight. The club had been his idea, but parts of you believed he’d gotten the idea from your sister, who knew that there was no way in hell you’d sit at a restaurant and eat. You liked the action; your job called for you to sit in silence and awkward conversations; you didn't want your life to be a damper as well.

“It is,” you looked around, taking everything in, including the abrasive eyes that still remained on you, but it didn’t matter once he entered the room. The black shirt revealed his entire tattoo-riddled chest, even the one of your name he’d gotten a few years back. He looked like he might be up to trying you tonight, so you had to disappear and do so quickly. “We should go to the booth you got.”

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea.”

It wasn’t a good idea; you sat uncomfortably across from the pair watching their every move while trying to suppress the need to end the date abruptly and slap the fuck out of him. Irritating you always was the one thing he did exceedingly well. Meg sat in his lap, draping her arms over his body, throwing her ass on him like she had no shame!  Did he know it was you across the room from him? Did he care? You watched as the waiter brought your third glass of tequila to the table and leaned into Eric, noticing the earthy cologne mixed with the whiskey. He smelled nice, or perhaps you were elusive to the bullshit because being near to him dulled the ache of the scene across from you.

The room to be secluded offered no privacy, so even when you felt alone, you were smothered in the thoughts of what if he saw you kiss or touch this guy- what the fuck was his name again? You uncrossed your legs, clumsily kicking the round glass table in front of you and spilling his drink but thank god not yours.

“I need some air; I’m gonna go get some.” You paused and took your glass. “I’ll be back.” The words scrambled out, and you did too, pushing up from the leather couch and not looking back to see Eric’s reaction to the awkward movements.

Too many people surrounded you, and at the moment, all you truly wanted was to hear nothing and feel nothing, even if it meant you had to get shit-faced. The stairwell didn’t have many people in it; only two women consumed in one another and Colson.

Your heart sunk once you realized it was him, from fear, dread – fucking embarrassment, maybe? He shook his head; you took notice of the three earrings in one ear while the other garnished a seat of crosses that dangled. Colson’s hair was slightly disheveled atop his head; the dark roots peeked out of the platinum blonde tapered cut. He looked great as usual. “I thought you were in for the night?” Colson’s voice carried over the music because he refused not to be heard, especially by you. He looked down at you, nursing the glass of chilled tequila. You’d acquired a taste for it over the years of being with him, Colson drinking tequila like water had rubbed off on you. “This doesn’t look like your place.”

“Did you want something?”

“Why are you here with that broke down,” He paused dramatically, raising his hand as he thought of more insults. “Tom and Jerry looking motherfucker?”

“That’s the best you can do?”

Colson drug his teeth over his lip, “Where you meet him?”

“Where’s that instamodel chick? You know the one with the plastic ass and tits? You leave her in the car just so you can go check on your other hoes, or is she in here with them?”

“Man, stop.”

“I saw her looking at me, don’t tell them about me. I’m not your concern, and I am damn sure not theirs.”

“How’d you catch her looking at you if you weren’t looking at me?” Colson’s cocky smirk sent a rush of anger coursing through your body; even when he lost, he found a sure way to find a confident victory in it.

“Bye, Colson.” Your eyes met his, remembering how blue they were. Even when he was dead drunk, they found a way to still hold onto the Colson you knew was in there somewhere. The sweet one that danced in the rain and stayed in bed with you every free night he could give -- you shook it off. Breaking eye contact with him to look anywhere but the blue crystal stare. You cut down to the ground, admiring your pumps before he turned away from you and left.

The drink was no longer cold, and the tequila didn’t even burn as you chugged down the remnants of the clear liquid. You pinched the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath, and then leaned against the stairwell.

“Long night?” Eric cleared his throat.

“Already, I’m so sorry. Could we leave here?”

Eric shook his head yes and placed his hand on your shoulder, “Is everything okay?”

“Perfectly, fine. It’s fine.” You swallowed. The hazed state of your mind needed to be cleared, especially before you left with him. “Can I meet you upfront? I’m going to freshen.”

“It’s fine; take your time.”

 You wouldn’t take your time; the quicker you were out of this place, the better. Whenever you were in his element, your mind refused to do the right thing. You moved through the crowded dance floor, carefully avoiding familiar faces. And finally, you were at the restrooms splashing the cool water on your face. You looked yourself over, grateful you hadn’t worn makeup—the trickles of water run down your rich ochre brown skin.  Too many thoughts raced through your mind out there but not in here. It was silence, and your mind was in a stupor. For a second, everything stilled, your heart and breathing were relaxed, and everything was back to normal, that moment as everything else was short-lived.

Colson’s reflection appeared in the mirror before you. “I cannot believe you lied to me?” The door clicked behind him.

“I didn’t lie to you.” The way he casually entered the women’s bathroom to start an argument pissed you off. “And get the fuck outta here.”

“We talked earlier today, and you said you were in for the night.”

“You said you were going out by yourself, and you got a whole entourage. So, same shit, we both just single now.”

“Come here.”

“No, you don’t get to tell me to come here. You don’t get to follow me in the bathroom and talk to me about fucking lying when you-.”

Words ended when his lips met yours, he towered over you, but he didn’t mind the effort it took to get to your lips. He walked you against the wall- steadying your steps to his until he picked you up, and as if your body knew the routine, you wrapped your legs around him. Your lips eagerly kissed him back, tugging on his bottom lip before returning to take more kisses. How were you this hungry for him? You wanted nothing more than him to fuck you, rip this dress and ruin you in this unlocked bathroom. “Y/N.”

“Fuck me.” You pleaded.

He only needed the confirmation to move towards his belt buckle unsheathe his dick. There were two ways you fucked, frantic and as if you would never see one another again and then slow – ironically, they both had the same outcome. Your heartbeat matched his, strumming against your chest, and his matched yours. You loved it. There was no foreplay needed; you wanted to feel every inch of the pain he had to offer. He pushed the black dress up to your thighs, bunching the fabric enough that it revealed your pussy for him. He swiped his tongue over the pads over his fingers and swiped your lips. You were wet for him. You had been the whole night, no matter how much you wanted to deny it. He pushed the long finger into you, curling it to press the soft pad that made you squirm and throw your head back in pleasure.

He moved from the wall to the counters, not giving a fuck if someone walked in or not; he spread your legs wider for him and gripped your curls. Exposed to the world, but all you could see was him. You reveled as he slammed into your hilt deep, muted your sequel with his lips, and paused. “You missed me, didn’t you?” He whispered. “Y/N?”

“Shut up,” Your pussy answered for you, squeezing to pull him deeper as he fucked into you. He wasn’t even deep enough for you; your fingers tug on the black shirt as you thrust to meet him each time. Your skin clapped against his every time, his cock expertly hitting that spot inside of you that made you want to cum right then and there. You held it, panting as it began to build up all over your body. He knew the signals, the way your hands rapt against him, legs quivered, and your pussy throbbed.

“Up.” He said, listening to the door open behind him.

Decency had left when he started fucking you, there was no way in hell you’d stop now, and Colson possessed no fucks when it came to sex. They could watch whoever the fuck it was. He positioned you in front of the mirror, bent over for him. Colson’s heavy hand came down on your ass, and then he pushed into you arching your back before wrapping a hand around your hair and fucking into you wildly.

Your ass bounced back on him, and his moans made you wetter. Your fists clenched as you tried to steady yourself – there was no controlling the orgasm that flowed through you. Your breath quickened, your toes curled, and your eyes snapped closed as his name rolled from your tongue.

“Open them eyes.” He gave an arrogant laugh before leaning over you, pushing himself deeper and flicking his tongue over the lobe of your ear.,

Your eyes opened, and you saw yourself flushed with sweat, mouth open, and him fucking the shit out of you. The scene erotic, beautiful, and shit you wanted it again and again. “Oh shit.” You mumbled.

“You think that fucking clown ass suit gone give you this?” He laughed as he slapped your ass again. “I thought not.” He guided you back on him, taking your hips in his hands, making sure you took every inch. He was greedy himself, watching your breast bounce in the reflection of the mirror, all while hearing you echo throughout the entire bathroom. It was music to his ears. Colson slowed his stroke momentarily, peppering, kissing down your shoulder blade before increased his pace once again, and your body jolted. You ground against him, urging him to cum and the pressure built. He panted against your back for a moment and then kissed your exposed skin. “Don’t go home with him.” He whispered, retrieving your panties from his pocket. Colson lowered himself to his knees and turned you around.

“You can’t tell me that.” You whispered.

“I’m asking.”

“Are you taking her home?”

“I can drop her ass off at her place right now.” He smiled, pointing. “Shit, you can ride shotgun.”

Good memories flooded of his snarky ass sense of humor and late nights. “You’re silly.”

Colson adjusted your dress and then stood in front of you, making sure your hair and lipstick was not smudged everywhere. “Drop Chandler off and come home.”

“Fucking hell mate,” Dom’s voice did not seem shocked. “This other chick is trying to kill me out here. Y/N?”

“Dude, will you get the fuck out of here… like now.”

“Fine. I’m leaving.”

“This was-,” You step away. “Uhm, I don’t know. I’ll call you okay?”

“Tonight?”

“Tomorrow.” You clarified. “Or the next day, just give me a damn minute to breathe?”

“Bet.” He sighed. “Should I go first… so it won’t seem suspect?”

“You’re a 6’4” guy leaving the women’s restroom, you’re busted.” You chuckled.

 A/N: I through Dom (Yungblud) in there because I kinda love him just as much lol might right him too! Hope you enjoyed! Thank you! Please let me know what you think!

Taglist: @taytayize123 @supernaturalvikingwhore @jae-writes-fanfiction @bigsisbria @placeoffreedom @kyla-queen @missdforever @gottatoxicattitude @bang-kim-bap @msreshel @blowmymbackout @titty-teetee​

[blogevaawrites]

BIG DEAL

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, angst

Summary: After being away of you boyfriend for three weeks, you come to Chris’s  house after he had thrown a party where you met a girl you haven’t see ever. The beginning of the relationship was unconventional so you couldn’t do anything else but suspect.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

There’s something I do when I don’t know how to deal with a situation.

I clean my closet.

I organize it; I try everything on, throw out pieces I don’t wear anymore, or I don’t like. I like to spend time doing this just because I don’t have to think in anything else.

“He’s calling again, you’re not picking up, are you?” Linda asked from the other side of the room. I was surrounded by my clothes and shoes and things, and she was working in her laptop.

“No.” I answered simply and kept doing my thing.

“Isn’t better if you pick up and tell him to stop? This is his tenth call today, and I don’t want to know about texts. This is not right.”

“I’m not ready to think about this.” I muttered. I didn’t realize she got up from the bed and walked to me.

“It’s fine, everything is going to be fine” she said hugging me. Her touch brought tears out of my eyes, but her kindness made me feel safe.

Linda moved to NY a few months before I did, and I could be more blessed because she moved to the next door’s apartment. She has been there since then; our friendship was the kind of you find just a couple times in a lifetime.

“Don’t worry I will be right here. We can clean your closet as many times as you need.”

It’s been three days since I left his house, and my phone has been ringing since then.

I spent my first day watching true-crime documentaries, eating ice cream and drinking wine. The second day I started donating the clothes I wasn’t wearing anymore. And today, I have cleaned the closet three times. Linda enjoyed the first two days, but she hated to organize anything, so she killed time working from my bed.

“That one is pretty sexy. Why don’t we go out to dinner and have a few drinks tonight? Lucy and Vanessa have been calling too.” She spoke.

I thought about it for a few minutes, and I was actually feeling sick of being here.

“Yeah! Why not? I need more alcohol” I joked.

 The night went pretty fun, and I kind of felt better and ready to face everything, his apologies, his face and his voice. Around three a.m I was ready to go back home and sleep my hangover. “Are you sure you don’t need me there? Linda asked when I told her I was leaving, she was having a good time and I didn’t want to spoil her fun. “Yeah! Don’t worry, I’m sick of being depressed, I’m ready to be me again.” She smiled at me and hugged me before I left.

The uber ride was fast, no traffic nor people in the street this made my way home calm, and the driver was quite funny. He waited for me to get in the building and left, leaving alone again. The lobby’s lights were automatic, but they weren’t working very well, I knew the way to my door, so I didn’t bother turning my phone’s flashlight on. Going up stairs, I tried to take off my high heels, but something made me get alarmed. A dark big shadow at the top of the stairs. My heart stopped for a second.

“Holy crap! What are you doing here? Why are you sitting there? You scared the shit out of me, asshole!” I yelled when the light of the hallway turned on and all of the sudden the silhouette of a big man appeared at the top the stairs. My heart started to beat in this normal pace when I recognized his face.  

“I’m sorry that wasn’t my intention. You weren’t picking the phone. I was worry about you.” His hands went up in a signal of inoffensive. His voice was hoarse and his eyes a little bit swollen and red. I could say he had been crying.

“I’m fine, you can go.” I said, walking straightly to my apartment’s door. I looked for my keys in my bag as faster as I could.  

“Can we talk?” he moved to stay behind me while I opened the door. He didn’t get too close to me and I felt grateful for that.

“I don’t want to hear anything, and right now the only thing I want is to sleep.” I got in the apartment and closed the door rapidly. With my forehead rested against the closed door and my hands still on the handle, I listened to him to beg. I missed him, his voice, his smell, his fucking presence made me shake my legs.

“Please, just give me five minutes. I love you and I can’t let you think I don’t. I know I fucked everything up but…” I opened the door before he could finish it. He looked quite surprised when a move away to let him pass.

He didn’t say anything, walked in and moved around awkwardly. I told him to sit with my head. He took a sit on the couch and I didn’t move from the door, with my back resting it in. His eyes stared me few a few minutes, making me feel uncomfortable, defenseless.

“You look beautiful.” He said quietly.

“You have five minutes.” The alcohol in my body brought rudeness out of my mouth. I was tired, kind of drunk and still hurt by him so couldn’t let him get any closer in any dimension.

“I’m sorry.” He said before his hands rubbed his face roughly. “I went to NY to tell you everything. I really did, I felt horrible, and I didn’t want to hurt you, but I knew I had to tell you. Carly thought it too. You know them, there’s no place for any secrete between them. When I arrived in here, saw your face and I felt your arms around me I chickened out. I realize that I couldn’t live without you; for the first time in my life, I was really scared to lose somebody. And that was a feeling I wasn’t used to.” His statements made my heart ache. I wished anything of this had happened.

“So, you lied? Because you loved me.” I knew he wasn’t a perfect boyfriend in the past but that was a shitty excuse.

“I didn’t know how to tell you. When Carly called that night, she heard you in the back then she assumed that you forgave me, and I didn’t deny it. I felt awful but I got into that lie so quickly, I didn’t know what to do.” I sat on ankles, sliding down the wall. I hid my face with my hands trying to avoid him to see me cry.

“I wasn’t joking, honey. You are the love of my life and I didn’t want to lose you. That scare got so real that I couldn’t face it. I’m sorry, I really am. With you everything is different, and I didn’t realize it until that. The fear of losing you got in my skin and it never left.” I didn’t feel him to come closer to me until I felt his hands in mine. As soon as I felt it, I got up and moved away from him. I knew I could fall for him quickly.

“If you have done, you should leave.” I could say walking to the fridge to pour water in glass. My throat was dry.

He looked at me for a while, then took a deep and loud breath and moved to the door.

I saw him walk to the door, to leave the apartment, to leave me. I did understand the scare of losing someone, I had lost a few people in my life, but seeing him leaving it was different, I was losing him, and everything was his fault. That didn’t feel fair.

 “Why you did this to me?” The words left my mouth before I could think about it. He turned around to look at me, but I hadn’t finished “Why didn’t you break up with me if you wanted to fuck somebody else? Why were you seeing Ashley? Why did you play along with her game after the kiss?” my voice got louder at every question. I wasn’t a person who yelled easily but I couldn’t help it.

“Baby, I’m a dickhead, I screw up every relationship I’ve ever had. I don’t know why. I promised I went out with her with any side intention, when she kissed me, I felt that fear again. And at the party, I swear I didn’t invite her, I wanted to keep her away from you, I wanted to keep everything what I did away from us.”

“Yeah! That’s why you took her panties.” I said ironically. “What did you want me to do? Kicked her out of the house, making a scene?” He saw my face burning in anger and he continued. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I hate myself enough for both of us.” Said that he took his way again. I didn’t hate him. I loved him. I was needed for him.

I moved quickly to get him; I could reach him by the arm.

As soon as he turned around to look at me, I jumped on his mouth. He didn’t take any longer to embrace his arms around me, pushing my face more against his, as if that was even possible.

We walked clumsily to the nearest wall; he squeezed my butt before holding me up. His hands flew through my tights, caressing them and reached my wet panties. I moaned when I felt his fingers rubbing me. “I need you.” He whispered in my ear. His fingers went to undo his pants and I could get out of his arms.

I saw panic in his face for a couple of seconds. But it disappeared when he saw me got into my knees. I took his hard member in my hands to stroke it a few times before get it into my mouth. He rested his forehead in the wall, and shut his eyes, leaving me caged by his body.

His breathing changed when he opened his eyes and watched my mouth around the head of his sensitive cock. Clenched jaw and hands making fist, he moaned loudly as he was being relieved of great amount of pressure.

My lips wrapped around his cock, taking as much as my throat could, and my hand gripped the rest. I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t want to think. I was tired and sick of the anxiety that this situation was giving me.

I knew this wasn’t a good idea. I wasn’t proud but I wanted it.

“I love your fucking mouth.” his voice brought my back from my thoughts. I started to suck a little bit harder as he was getting bigger. His hips also started to thrust him into my mouth, making me gag at one particularly push. “Shit! Sorry!” he said, taking my face in his hands and making me get up from my knees. “I don’t want to cum in your mouth.” he responded to my unanswered question. We kissed as his hands tried to get rid of my dress, and mine were fighting with his shirt.

Just in my panties, he pickup me up and put me on the hall’s table. Sucking my nipples and rubbing my breast and ass, he ripped my panties and his dick stormed in me.

I yelled in surprise; I was actually more than ready to take him.

“I loved that ones.” I murmured pretending to be sadly for my lingerie.

“I will make it worth.” He said with smile on his face before taking my calves over his shoulders. His thrusts were deep, rough, and needed, I tired to hold on to the table, but his movements got fiercely, and I could feel my orgasm coming.

The table wasn’t meant to this kind of activities. We realized it very late.

“Holy crap!” he said when he saw the table fall, holding me better in his arms. Everything I could do was laugh. He intended to let me go but crossed my arms behind his neck.

“No! Take me to bed!” I whispered in his ear. He smiled before kissing me.

He laid down on the bed with me over him. “Ride me, baby.” he said holding me from my hips.

I started to move up and down on his cock, rolling my hips. I saw he shut his eyes, a signal he was close, so I started to ride hard on him. His fingers were marking my hips as he pushed me up and down savagely. I groaned at the almost painful pleasure.

I felt his body getting tense as he filled me up with his cum.

“God! I love you!” he yelled.

Something woke up inside me, suddenly I felt dirty and ashamed. I hid my breast with my arms as I stood up from bed. His cum dripping on my inner thigh, made me just feel worst.

He didn’t realize, he was still dazed. He took my arm when he realized that I wasn’t coming back to bed. “Come back, I’m still hard.” He muttered with his eyes closed. I let him to guide my body, he made me lay down next to him and cuddle.

“These couple days have been awful; I’ve never felt that bad.” His lips were right next to neck and made me get goosebumps.” I was so scared of not seeing you again.” He said pecking my neck. He turned my hips a little, just enough to let himself into me one more time. I was feeling guilty, I was using him. I wasn’t forgiving him, but he thought I was.

I didn’t want a confrontation; I couldn’t handle one.

His hand held my face to keep kissing my mouth, and his other one at my hip, holding me steady. “Your so good for me.” he said between kisses. His hand went from my hip to my clit. He worked himself in deeper and rubbed me just in the right way.    

My body was so tensed and my brain so away from the reality that I didn’t noticed he fell sleep.

I wanted to have sex with him, I enjoyed. I shouldn’t feel bad for him, he cheated on me and lied, but I wasn’t like that.

I woke up with his snoring in my ear. I got out of his embrace needy for water, the hangover was taking my body. I saw my clothes and his’s all over the floor and the broken table. I didn’t get to do the walk of shame, it was my apartment, I was living in the shame.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” His voice resounded throughout the entire place.

“Okay! You are really thirsty” he said when I drank the water quickly. I didn’t answer, I didn’t look at him. The situation was awkward, and he noticed it.

“What’s going on?” he asked from behind. I ignored him again. “Hey! Are you okay?” he shouted and turned me over to face me.

“Yes, I’m just still drunk.” I said softly. I tired my best to look unbothered.

“Can we talk?” he asked.    

“Not right now. I have things to do.” I started to pick everything up. “I think you should leave; I really have things to do.” I avoided his eyes. I get repetitive when I feel nervous. He knew it.

“Well, I think you’re acting like a child. What happened last night?” his voice wasn’t loud, but it was hard.

I just could shrug, I felt ashamed, and he was mad.

“Talk to me! Damn! Don’t shut up. You always do that. I fucked everything up, I know. But you kissed me last night, you started everything so, right now please talk! Tell me what is happening!” now he was yelling, he looked mad and kind of sad, the guilt just spread across my body.

“What you want me to say, Chris? I wasn’t thinking properly.” I said, looking how he was getting dress himself.

“So, wasn’t mean a shit for you?” I felt like our roles were reversed. Now he was angry, and I was the one giving the explanations.

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” I could say.

“Yes, you do, and to be honest, I understand. I deserved it, but I don’t…” he was wrong, I knew I hurt him but that wasn’t my intention, I loved him, and he knew it.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not like you.” My voice wasn’t soft anymore. We were in the same level, he wanted me to feel guilty, so I was doing the same. I continued “Sorry, but I’m not going to apologize, I didn’t want to hurt you. I felt bad and I wanted to have sex with you, you could have said no, and you didn’t do it. But I didn’t say anything to make you think that I forgave you.” His eyes goy darker with my words. he stared me for a few seconds.

“I couldn’t have said no, you could have given me a glass full of worms and I would have taken it.” I felt he was playing the victim; I could stand it.

“I give you a relationship and you pissed on it.” I said crudely.

The room got in a deep silence and filled with tension and resentment.

“You were right, we shouldn’t talk right now.” He spoke after a couple minutes, he took his jacket and got ready to leave. The scare of losing him went back to my head, but I knew it was the best and this time I stood up to it.

“I don’t want to see you again.” I said when he got closer the door. He looked at me incredulous, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I’m still mad and hurt, so I’m not forgiving you soon. But that doesn’t matter because we can’t be together, I don’t trust you and my insecurity in our relationship will freak you out at some point and it will be worst, for both of us.” I didn’t want to cry but I failed, at least he was weepy too.

I thought he was going to response, but he didn’t, he left my apartment without hesitation, slamming the door.

Tag list: @breezykpop  @calwitch @firoozehmoon 

[burnedbyshoto]

through the looking glass

“Please don’t kill me!” you begged from the floor, your hands raised, trying to get this psycho to leave you alone. “I-I-I don’t think I taste that good? I’ve tried my blood before, and it’s disgusting, true fact! Mosquitos don’t even like me that much!” “I don’t eat humans, I—” the psycho samurai man tried to speak, but you were far from done pleading for your life.

— Or in which you cross paths with Shinazugawa Sanemi and nothing is ever the same again.

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pairing: shinazugawa sanemi x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, fluff, cursing, an instance of demon slaying, mirror sex, vaginal fingering, blowjob, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, cursing, praise kink, this is my first time writing for this fandom oh no

word count: 8,420

a/n: I fell asleep while editing this, good reminder to maybe not lay in a comfy blanket when trying to get shit out on time????? i love sanemi sm tho, please enjoy!

kinktober day 15 main kink: mirror sex | kinktober masterlist

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The sky was always prettier at night.

It wasn’t anything against the sky during the day! As a matter of fact, you also loved the light blue sky just at noon. You loved it wholly! You loved the way the sweet smell of crops of the earthy dewy scent traveled in the morning, and you loved how every creature in existence seemed to hum with life. The morning sky and earth were always busy.

But, you always found the deep dark blue-purple, nearly black night sky to be ethereal.

If you closed your eyes and listened closely, the nighttime, silent with white noise hanging through every quiet move of wind, felt like another world. Out near the countryside, not quite the city and not quite the farmlands, you were able to live a life where you felt safe, felt normal. You and your friends were always screaming and chasing each other through the streets following the setting sun. Your curfew hours pushed back for the night, letting you relax.

You loved to sit just at the edge of the farmed roads, right where the light from the town just disappeared into blackness. You would sit there, eyes bright, fingers pointed at the sky as you took in the irreplicable night sky. At sixteen years, you had decided to venture out on your own; your friends said that they wouldn’t be able to join you because of their own busy schedule and insisted that you don’t go on account of the few vanishing people the past few nights.

But, you were never one to pay mind to others’ opinions; your own mind set on seeing the supposed asteroid shower that night in tandem with the full blue moon was to be a sight you couldn’t miss. So, you laughed, scratching the back of your neck as you sigh. 

“Fine, I won’t go,” you lied to them, and they smiled in gratefulness.

But, like the liar that you are, you found yourself rushing out of your home, your fingers clutching at your kimono as you run. The sun had already set, and if you were to make sure that you would make the sighting, you were going to need to get there now.

Eventually, you made it to that pathed dirt road, your eyes scanning the darkened sky with intense focus as you began to search for the asteroid shower you were promised. With the bright, beautiful moon in the sky, your feet stamping onto the road with your impatience and excitement, you listened to the whistling wind and chirping bugs as you waited.

Nothing abnormal or out of the ordinary.

It was tranquil, quiet, calm.

And finally, when the backdrop of the night sky served as the background to the beautiful shower of asteroids, a single sound that you’ve never heard before echoed from before you and immediately made your stomach sicken. 

Someone was eating in the fields right before you, the sound of a person, maybe an animal, eating something as if it was starving. Slowly, the air filled with fickle laughter, a noise that had your heart racing as you stood up. Your attention no longer focused on the beautiful night sky, but instead, two pairs of yellow and red eyes staring at you.

“Oh? Would you look at that! Two humans already, and it's only three hours into the night!” a voice cackled, and even with the shroud of darkness brought by the hours of the night, you recognized what the not humans were eating.

It was a person.

Unable to scream due to fear, the horror burned through your veins as you tried to scramble to your feet and run away, only to find that you couldn’t even move. You began to cry instead. Fat tears welling down your cheeks as they stalked toward you at a speed you couldn’t start to believe was human or animal, and you curled into yourself, eyes unable to gaze up at the sky one last time.

“So this is where you shithead demons have been fucking hiding?!” a voice practically roared behind you, and it was then you shrieked when a burst of wind exploded over you and a man dressed in a weird black uniform with a white haori with the kanji for ‘kill’ printed on it. 

What the fuck was fucking going on?!

You pinched your skin, wondering if, by chance, the gods had cursed you at the very moment and forced you to hallucinate some strange reality. 

“T-That’s a Hashira,” one of the not-human humans gasped, arm tugging at his friend. “We don’t stand a chance!”

What the fuck was a Hashira?!

“Like hell, we don’t!” the other snarled in defensive anger. You managed to push yourself onto your forearms, your knees still too weak to carry your standing weight. “Look at all his scars, gotta be hanging by a damn thread. He’s not even looking at us!”

You were taken back by that statement. Why wasn’t the third lunatic looking at them?! You snapped your attention from the non-human humans to look at the white-haired man who was staring at you. Your jaw dropped in your shock and slight embarrassment at the way his scarred face took you off-guard for a moment. Why was he looking at you and not the non-human humans?!

And in horror, you watched the psycho scarred man in front of you unsheathed a katana.

A katana.

The ringing of metal loud in your ear as you scrambled to your feet, this man was genuinely insane. Who still carried such weapons in this time period?! The samurai were no longer around, and he was dressed in something that looked weaker than your own kimono!

“Ni no kata: Sousou-Shina to Kaze,” the psycho samurai man spat, and if you hadn’t already believed you weren’t hallucinating already, you definitely did now. Jagged, solid apparitions of claw marks appeared from the air as the psycho man shot forward, the glinting menace of his katana tearing through the necks of both the non-human humans with such horrifying ease. You screamed. 

The terrified scream didn’t stop afterward, only seems to increase in horror when you watched the bodies crumble into smoke and ash, their voices still muttering last words, bitter and abhorrently angry at being murdered. The psycho samurai had beheaded these non-human humans at such power and strength he had destroyed their living bodies! 

Was this because you hadn’t thanked your aunties for adding that one extra meat bun when you noticed after going home?! No, it had to have been for breaking that perverted boy's nose the other day, and this was the curse he placed on you. Physical violence was never the answer; you vehemently prayed to your gods as you begged for forgiveness. Please spare your pathetic life.

Your jaw dropped as you watched the psycho samurai man, with what seemed like proficient knowledge and experience, flick his blade. Blood splattered off the blade, onto the floor, disintegrating too. And well, fuck the gods.

Spinning on your heel, you ran as fast as you possibly could, your chest heaving and nerves entirely shot because if you were hallucinating this badly, you needed to get home. Maybe that candy you ate earlier today from the snot-nosed brat was some weird drug. City kids could never be trusted.

“Are you okay?” a voice gruffed by your ear, and you shrieked, seeing the psycho man seemingly appear beside you. His footsteps were silent as he so obviously ran to catch up to you, and through your frightening horror, you found yourself tripping and falling onto your ass. Staring up at the wholly scarred man in front of you. 

You had initially thought it was just his face that was scarred, but no, it was obviously more. There were jagged, ugly cuts lining his pectorals, abdomen, and if you weren’t making it up, you noticed some on his arms. Every piece of exposed flesh was lined with intense scars.

“Please don’t kill me!” you begged from the floor, your hands raised, trying to get this psycho to leave you alone. “I-I-I don’t think I taste that good? I’ve tried my blood before, and it’s disgusting, true fact! Mosquitos don’t even like me that much!”

“I don’t eat humans, I—” the psycho samurai man tried to speak, but you were far from done pleading for your life.

“My mom says I have a thick neck! Called me an ox or something! I’m sure you don’t want to cleave off my head like you did the others?! Oh my god, am I gonna die?!” you squeaked, your fingers digging crescent shaped wounds into your arms as you began to cry. “I don’t wanna die!” you wailed, and then just the slightest bit pathetically: “I just wanted to see the asteroid shower.”

The psycho man seemed to grow irritated, his lips pulling back into a small snarl before he rolled his eyes. With tears in your eyes, you watched as the man threw his katana to the side, much too far away from him to use on you, and in the dim lights of the town behind you, you watched the shadows grow on his face as he sat down before you.

Not close enough to make you panic, but not far enough you were squinting to see him.

“My name is Shinazugawa Sanemi,” the psycho samurai man explained, and your eyes narrowed.

“That’s not a god or demon I’m aware of,” you muttered under your breath, but it seemed he heard it by the sour glare he gave you. You stilled under his weighted ton glare, your face warming as you averted your gaze. 

“I’m not a god,” he spoke firmly, his arms folding underneath his chest. There was the chance he was a demon, you couldn’t help but think. “Nor am I demon.” You wilted.

“Rabid mountain boy?” you guessed, your nerves and adrenaline are still pounding way too heavy for you to filter your words.

He huffed, “No.”

“Well then—”

“Just let me explain,” he stressed, an eyebrow raised at you, and you stilled. It took a bit, but eventually, you nodded. “My name is Shinazugawa Sanemi, and I am a part of an organization called the Kisatsutai.”

Kisatsutai, the Demon Slayer Corps.

It rang an old bell in your memories, something distant, aged. Maybe a tall tale your grandparents had told you.

“It’s exactly as you think it to be,” he spoke, and you found your gaze rising to meet his. You realized even with the dull, yellowing light of the faraway lanterns, his eyes were a clouded purple. “Those two shitheads that tried to attack you are — were — demons. Yes, demons still exist,” he followed immediately as if knowing what stupid question you were going to ask next. Your mouth closed, and a chill ran down your spine knowing that non-human demon creatures that ate humans actually existed in this world. How had you been so unaware? “I’m a Hashira though, the wind Hashira to be exact. You’re living in my section of the territory I’m assigned to keep safe, so don’t worry. Demons don’t come out during the day; the sun kills them, so keep indoors at night, and you won’t have any issues.”

You remained silent, your mind twisting and turning as you tried to digest his words that seemed to rip apart your life. Sure, there was always a chance of being murdered in life; you weren’t that naive of an idiot to think so. But you never would have guessed that the potential murder you would have was a demon. It just seemed childish.

“T-That’s why they disintegrated?” you eventually babbled, your mind and consciousness entirely overloaded. “Are you some sun blooded person? How did you kill them?”

Sanemi stared at you but grunted. He rose to his feet and offered you a hand, “Top secret, can’t tell you.”

That wasn’t a good enough answer, and your mouth opened, ready to retaliate. 

“I’m not trying to be a jerk,” Sanemi spoke, his hand tensing yet again in apparent effort to get you to grab it. “I’ll explain to you the bullshits of the reality of life later, but fortunately, this wasn’t the only area with demons nearby. So, unless you want me leaving you out here alone.”

A frown curled on your face, but with an unspoken level of trust, you grabbed his hand. You tried not to show how shocked and just awed you were at the calloused, entirely strong palms he had. You had no doubt in mind that he was a master swordsman, that title of Hashira seemed to be a big thing too, and the strength and power and callousness of his palm proved it.

“I’ll walk you home, pipsqueak; let’s get a move on it.”

Nodding your head quickly, you tore your hand from his and walked.

The walk was silent, and you could feel his presence lingering behind you like a hot coal in your pocket. You looked behind to see if he was still there several times, and each time he was staring straight ahead, eyes focused on something far away.

“You’ll be back tomorrow, Shinazugawa-san?” you ask as you made your way to the entrance of your home. You weren’t moving to go in, trying to figure out what he meant by explaining it all later.

“Tomorrow evening before I work,” Sanemi confirms, arms folding again.

You nod, “How old are you, Shinazugawa-san?”

He narrows his eyes but eventually rolls them, “Eighteen.”

Only two years older than you were, yet his hands felt like those of a war-veteran elder. It almost seemed like you and he grew up in entirely different worlds. You nod some more, absorbing his words and skills with better clarity as you finally begin to retreat past the gates. “Well, thank you for saving my life, Shinazugawa-san. I’ll leave—”

“You can watch it tomorrow night,” he said, face void of emotions.

You blink, “What?”

Sanemi rolls his eyes, looking entirely unimpressed. “The asteroid shower? The one you were watching or wanted to watch? Tomorrow night, another one will be happening.”

“O-Oh,” you felt warm, a smile spreading across your face as you nodded. “Thank you for letting me know!”

He nods too, a sharp inhale whistling through the air before his shoulders relax, the tension leaving his body altogether. “Well, until tomorrow evening.”

“Goodnight, Shinazugawa-san,” you politely bow. “Stay safe tonight.”

“...you too.”

And when you pull up from the bow, he’s gone. 

The next evening, Sanemi shows up again. The sun is still in the sky, barely on its decline, and the summer day's warmth is slowly cooling down. As promised, Sanemi answers all of your questions, or well, tries to answer it. Some questions you have, he roughly snarks that those are stupid questions that shouldn’t ever be asked again (i.e., you asking if he was a child of the sun and that's why the demons had died, you asking if he had grown up in the woods and that’s why he was so scarred, you asking if it was only him in this supposed corps). He makes it pretty clear and unmistakable right away that all demons are evil. That he has the power to kill most demons as he is now and is continuing to train himself daily to ensure that he will one day help eradicate the strongest demon. That had turned into a slight argument on how you seriously doubted an eighteen-year-old possessed the power to murder a thousand-year-old demon who has yet to be killed despite the numbers who have tried.

But Sanemi, for all that was worth speaking of, was strangely enticing. Whenever your family or friends peeked their nosy heads in to try and hear your conversations with the psychotic looking stranger, his rather brash and abrasive tone of talking melded away into one of perfect formality and intelligence you quickly forgot he had. It was almost devious of him to have charmed your mother as soon as he did despite his rather inappropriate getup — he refused to cover up.

Faster than you would have liked, the setting sun began to turn scarlet red and royal purple against the sky, and you watched one of the nine apparent Hashira walking away, his body disappearing in the crowds of people that were moving about in the town. But, he was taller than most of them, and with that head of white hair, you watched him leave until you could no longer. 

“Come back again, please, Shinazugawa-san?” you had asked right before he left, your heart hammering in your chest.

He looked at you, unsure, a million emotions flashing through his clouded eyes. Ignoring the way your family and friends were watching you through the obvious crack in the door, you looked at Sanemi, who rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll see.”

That was good enough for you.

Better yet, the asteroid shower returned that night, and as you took it in with a star dazed smile, you thanked Sanemi, wherever he was.

It seemed to become some sort of ritual for both of you.

Sanemi showing up, both of you talking in the courtyard of your home for a few minutes. Some days he showed up with enough time to eat dinner with your family, who were intrigued to know who he was. Some days your friends refused to leave your side, so Sanemi would as calmly as he could interact with them. Turns out a few of them reminded him of his own friends, and a sense of kinship formed between them all.

But as the sunset and you wished him well and luck, you always asked for him to return.

Sanemi would always respond with uncertainty. But the next day, he was there.

Some days he had more bandages on his body; some days, he looked straight up sick. There were scary days where he wouldn’t appear at all, and he’d be back in two days apologizing. He had come across a few Lower Moons and was hospitalized then had a meeting, he would explain. There were some days he’d let you grab his hand as he explained that he wouldn’t be back for a few days; there was a meeting in Headquarters, and it took a day to get to and a day to return from. Three days have gone from his usual postings, so he would have to spend an additional four days heavily working to make up for his disappearance. 

“Fuckers aren’t as strong as they should be anymore,” Sanemi gruffed as you rested your head against his shoulder, his softly resting against yours. “Idiot trainers letting them take the test without their breathing techniques being strong.”

You laughed your finger, raising and pressing against his proud scar on his chest. It had been a year since you had first met him at that point, and now at seventeen, you knew he was proud of his scars, showing them off like the farmers showed off their prized crops, how senseis and masters showed off their awards. 

“They can’t even fucking use the Water Breathing techniques correctly,” he spoke angrily, almost bitterly. “That’s the easiest breathing to learn! They had no fucking skill; they don’t use the breathes they should be using!”

“Mm,” you agreed, not really invested in their strengths or if the trainers were blind fucking bats, and your hand rested on his chest. His heartbeat under your fingertips, and you looked at his dark purple eyes. Despite the weird angle, his eyes were beating with the slightest bit of anger. “They sound like the worst.”

You had never known Sanemi to freeze up or startle, but you saw the way his eyes dropped to your lips, the way they drank them in, but he pulled away. His heartbeat suddenly frantic as he stood. 

“It’s getting late; I gotta go if I’m going to make the town thirteen kilometers from here,” he grumbled, strapping his katana to his waist and standing up. You quietly followed after Sanemi, listening to him talk about how there was a case this morning but that the supposed demon was an actual cannibal.

As the two of you passed to the front gate, the warm smell of cracked dirt and sweet weeds filled the air. The sun was still high in the sky, just enough for your practically superpowered friend, not a friend, to make it to his suspected town just as the sunset.

He turned to you, falling quiet, obviously waiting for your typical farewell. But, you were trying something new tonight, and maybe from here on out. Sanemi watched with wide eyes as you stepped before him, your lips pressing sweetly against his battle-hardened skin, just kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Stay safe,” you grinned, pulling away, finding the pink in his cheeks and ears as a sign of victory. And as you made your way back into the doors of your home, Sanemi’s hands grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you near once again.

“I didn’t know you were a fucking Water User,” he snaps, and before you could smoothly input, you were not a Breathe user on account of your very serious childhood asthma, his lips pressed against yours, and it suddenly made sense.

The sky during the day was, for the most part, repetitive and boring. But when Sanemi pulled away from you, your lips humming with electricity and pumping blood from your excitement, the backdrop of the sky on the man who held your heart could outmatch even the asteroid shower you had seen. 

“Come back again, please, Sanemi?” you slowly spoke, the smile on your face ear-splitting and pure.

“Fuck off!” Sanemi flushed bright red, and he turned on his heel and stormed away.

He listened to your bell-like laughter as he rounded the corner. Well, until he seemingly reappeared before you again, his hands pressing to your cheeks and kissing the laughter from your throat before he pulled away. His voice was gruff, and his body language screamed he was doing everything not to look away from you right now, “I’ll see.”

And it was good, so very, very good.

By the time you were eighteen, you had moved in with Sanemi.

Despite the lack of a formal proposal, how both of you agreed not to marry yet, your parents allowed you to move in with Sanemi. They knew the reason why both of you had decided not to wed and accepted it as long as Sanemi took all responsibility for what would happen to him should anything happen to you. 

You still remember Sanemi showing up in the only kimono he owned. It was a bit — okay, try way — too tight against his arms and chest. His katana or usual uniform nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been expecting this to happen; the two of you had discussed this future together plentifully. But seeing him on his knees, a bow that was so low, respectful, and formal, had sent your skin simmering with blazing heat as Sanemi asked to officially court you and if he could also bring you home with him.

Tears welled in your eyes at his beautifully spoken request, and your parents, who may or may not have interrupted a handful of too many gentle, sweet, full kisses between you and Sanemi in the gardens of your home, had expected it. 

That sunset, you had watched Sanemi pull his katana and uniform from underneath a tatami mat in your room, and you screeched about how he had hidden it there. He didn’t bother responding as he changed into his needed uniform, and you had politely looked away while he changed. You may or may not have caught sight of his muscled, toned, and scarred legs, though, and you may or may not have thought about it for every second after he had left.

He kissed you wholly before he left that night, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone just softly enough to make you putty in his hands.

“I’ll be back in the morning to help you move in,” he promised, and you nodded your head impatiently, your lips seeking his again. 

As promised, Sanemi showed up the following morning, and with the help of the wagon your parents owned, all of your items were carefully exported to Sanemi’s home. A home that was way more than you had imagined. Your fiancé, not quite a fiancé, was always clean, he never showed up covered in dirt or blood, so while you weren’t necessarily expecting him to live in a crate at the side of the road, you were also expecting that from him.

It was a large home with a large courtyard, garden, and training spaces. Sanemi had easily carried your trunks into your (Sanemi and your’s) room, and you had hugged your parents tightly before they left. Their smiles drowned out into the bright sunlight as they went.

The adjustment to living with Sanemi wasn’t as hard as you thought it was going to be. For sure, the most challenging thing was getting your body accustomed to being awake during the night so that you could sleep with him and then spend his waking hours with him. It was perfect, blissful, and wonderful. You’d spend sundown to sunrise doing chores and doing drills with a wooden sword and dummy — Sanemi was teaching you how to handle a katana in case he wasn’t around. You’d write down lists of what you would need when he came home. Thirty minutes after sunrise, nearly without fail, Sanemi would stumble into the house, calling out his greeting.

You helped him bathe the night's blood and grime away, and with gentle hands and coaxing words, dragged him to sleep. At three in the afternoon, both of you would wake, and the day would begin with a sweet kiss good morning. Both of you would go and finish the day's errands, the vendors soon becoming familiar with your face and person. It was a great community, and everyone seemed to hold Sanemi in high regard.

But your relationship changed yet again when Sanemi slammed through the doors one day after sunrise. His eyes were wide, faint pink, already healed over scars risen on his skin as you came to the front door to see your husband, not a husband, discarding his shoes on the floor. 

“What’s going on?!” you asked, partially because you were scared and partly because you were slightly exhausted and ready to drag him into bed with you. But it seemed that Sanemi had that same exact mindset, but with a whole other meaning.

The kiss he pressed on your lips was blistering hot; you arched against the intensity of his kiss, your fingers touching the dirt of his face and feeling the heat of his skin.

“I need you,” he simply stated, over and over, his words coiling and festering under your skin until you could do nothing but let out a shaking moan. Exhaustion had burned out of your bloodstream, and a gentle, building warmth sank through your loins as slowly you agreed.

I need you,” you repeat as the sliding doors close behind your shifting bodies, the both of you losing yourselves to the heat and the passions of the early morning lust.

.

..

.

It had been approximately a year since you and Sanemi began to indulge in your shared sexual desires. Your relationship was deep, it was full, and as everything human, had its flaws. There were mornings where he would come home and needed to sleep in a separate room, evenings when he would leave, and his words would be cold and haunting. His life up until now had been a hard one, and you were no fool to believe that your presence would make him forget that. 

But in spite of it all, you were always happy when Sanemi would pull off of you, the streams of golden morning light whisping into the room, your body aching with the intensive pleasurable waves as the both of you would ease into sleep. It was perfect, you thought so, at least.

Sanemi, however, always claimed that you were a sight to be seen when he was bottomed out in you. His words were sweet in your ears as his lips brushed your skin, his praises were endless, but even when the drunken hue of the passions of the early morning faded, he swore you were a sight to be taken in at its full glory. Through every praise, every small moment where he would kiss you afterward as the smell of sex and dewy grass wafted into the room, Sanemi wanted you to see how beautiful you were when he fucked you.

You had no idea how that was to work; there was nothing that gave off a good enough reflection. But one late spring day, your eyes at the table you were using, carefully shuffling the funds Sanemi had acquired and placed them out accordingly, the front door was thrown open. 

“I’m home,” Sanemi grunted from the first room in the home, and you strained your ears, not hearing the door shut behind him.

“Welcome home!” eventually came your response, your body pressing up from the floor, fingers smoothing down your purple kimono before walking to where Sanemi stood. 

By the time you entered the room, Sanemi had already closed the door. But you were less focused on the time interval it took him to enter the home and more interested in the large, covered, and almost ominous rectangular object resting on the wall. 

“Whatcha got there?” you asked, head tilting in your curiosity, eyes focused on the large rectangle.

“The obaa-san gave me free smoked salmon because she heard that apparently, we’re trying for a kid. She said eating salmon before having sex will guarantee a strong male heir. So I figured we could make some nigiri,” Sanemi stated, purposefully ignoring your question if the way his lips pulled into a sardonic smile had anything to say about it.

“You’re an asshole,” you laugh, your hand smacking his shoulder only for him to thread his fingers in yours and pull you in for a sweet kiss. You hummed against his soft lips, your fingers running through his hair until the entire sentence he just told you sparked back into your memory. You tugged the ends of his hair just sharp enough for him to grunt in the back of his throat. “Idiot, don’t let them think we’re trying for a kid just yet.”

Sanemi snorts, pulling away from the kiss, “Maybe you should stop talking about your cravings in public — especially with that gossiping vendor.”

“Period cravings are a thing!”

“Yah yah,” Sanemi grunted, his hand waving you off as he gathered his rectangle thing and started making his way off with it. It was enormous though, you noticed as he carried it. It was longer than both of your heights, and if you were to stand at his shoulder, it seemed like it could still be wider than the both of you. “Stop breathing down my neck, weirdo.”

“You’re the one not telling me what that is!” you complain, following Sanemi with enough distance that you weren’t stepping on his heels. “Come on, ‘nemi, tell me what it is?”

“What do you think it is?”

“I hope it isn’t Mitsuri-chan’s present from Iguro-san,” you grumbled, knowing that last Christmas, you had to keep Mitsuri’s present hidden from the lovely Love Breathe wielder. “I can’t handle him showing up in the middle of the day, demanding to see it again. Why didn’t his own home work?”

“Kanroji shows up occasionally, and he only brings her into the best rooms depending on the day,” Sanemi grunted, resting the rectangle onto the wall by your tatami mats. “He won’t confess; she’s dumber than a rock, it’s all annoying. But he’s still… a friend.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re finally admitting to being friends with your fellow Hashira!” you chirped, your arms circling his neck, your grin complete and authentic as Sanemi looked at you unimpressed, his lips in a pout, not a pout, but a pout. You had the privilege of meeting all the Hashira Christmas morning, and they were all lovely people you got along with quite well. “Now, are you and Tomi—”

“That water bastard can choke on my foot and die!” Sanemi snapped, his face fuming, eyebrows narrowing, but his warm arms remaining relaxed and warm around your waist. “I’ll kill him and his stupid ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality.”

“And you don’t get along with someone like that?” you feign surprise, utterly delighted with the way his eyes sparkled dangerously at you. And well, you didn’t ever hesitate to take a bite out of Sanemi. “Guess there’s only enough room for an ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality even in the Hashira, and if it isn’t you… oops.”

Sanemi choked, and you laughed loudly, face nuzzling into his stiff neck as he attempted to escape from your stubborn hold. 

“You’re a real jerk,” Sanemi said as monotonously, allowing his much stronger body to be bent down as your lips peppered against his skin and eventually on his relaxed lips that didn’t bother returning your kisses.

“Kiss me back,” you whined, your lips pressing with a more significant, more profound fervor against his mouth.

“No.”

“I’m sorry!” you giggled with no actual apologies in your tone, enjoying the way that Sanemi’s lips slowly began to press back against yours. “Tomioka-san is obviously not the holder of the ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality title!”

“You damn brat,” Sanemi growled, his fingers pinching and pulling at your cheeks, paying no mind to your cries of mercy. “To think that I bought this for you too!”

“You haven’t even shown it to me yet!” you complain, unable to pout on account to his fingers, still pulling your cheeks apart. “You left me in the dark!”

Sanemi grunted, letting go of your cheeks, his purple eyes darkening and narrowing as he slammed a hand over your eyes and twisted you around in a swift movement. You resisted the small gasp hanging at the tip of your tongue when you felt his broad chest pressing into your back, and he moved forward, commanding you to move without a word. 

“Is this when you confess you’ve been a demon this entire time and trap my soul into Hell with all your other sexy wives?”

“Would you shut up?!”

Sanemi’s hand tore away from your eyes, and even though you were ready to argue with him just to hear the flaring annoyance on his tongue, you stilled when you saw your reflection perfectly. This had to be a mirror, an invention made in the west a few years ago, and finally, it was here. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that you were smaller than Sanemi, but the mirror made that difference alarmingly apparent. 

“I told you I wanted you to be able to look at yourself as I fucked you,” Sanemi whispered against your neck, breaking your attention away from its transfixion on the precise observation you finally had on yourself. “Turns out Tokyo got some imported, and I had to go get one myself.”

“Sanemi,” you whimpered, the canines of his teeth dragging against the tender flesh of your neck that was exposed from your kimono. Your eyes took in the sight of how his eyes stared at your face through the mirror's reflection, they were dark, murkier like this, and when his teeth slowly sank into your flesh, a ripple of pleasure and pain bubbling against your skin, you moaned. 

“Look at yourself,” Sanemi purred, his arms circling around your waist, and you felt him slowly beginning to undo the fastenings and fabrics of your kimono. “I need you to understand just how crazy you make me feel when I touch you, when I fuck you.”

The words were hot cinders in your lower stomach, festering and twisting in its warmth as his words buzzed in your ears. Your eyes dragged over to your reflection, and you could feel the beginning steam come out of your ears at the sight of yourself. Your eyes were lidded, perfectly hooded to give off the obvious desire that was growing in your body, your lips swelling with how your teeth tore into them, stopping the small moans that went unheard, and the flush that radiated off your features and glowed in your eyes.

It was a sight that you had never expected to see, and the pure unadulterated lust radiating off your features embarrassed you. The embarrassment only seemed to grow more as the kimono slipped from your shoulder, exposing more of your tender flesh for Sanemi’s mouth and teeth to mark, and your head dipped backward at the lewd scene.

“Look at you, angel,” Sanemi smirked against your skin, his eyes glinting dangerously even though the reflection as you weakly, just barely managed to return your gaze onto your review. You looked even more wrecked as the kimono dropped to the floor, the white undergarments you wore making you look saintly in the reflection and warm light of the streaming sun. “So beautiful, so perfect, and all mine.”

Your fingers fisted into the pants of his uniform. Your knees feeling weak with the possessiveness that came with his words. Unsure as to what to do, all the embarrassment and shamelessness in the world dancing like falling leaves as you pondered what you could do. Usually, you would move with him against him. You didn’t exactly fall into a pillow princess category, but feeling the intensity of his gaze through a mirror, and the way that your body behaved exactly as he had always claimed it had, made your head spin.

You gasped loudly when his hips rutted slowly against your ass, his scarred hands continuing to undress you more, each fabric of clothing that separated your naked body from the mirror disappearing until you were completely nude. And you mewled.

“Look at yourself, angel,” Sanemi laughed against the shell of your ear, his head now against yours, keeping you from even attempting to look away. His large, rough hands glided across your much softer skinned body, watching as his fingers rolled your nipples between his fingers, massaging your tender flesh in his hands. 

You saw the way your head dipped backward as you moaned, your eyes fluttering as you did so. Undoubtedly, both of you painted an erotic scene, but it was something you hadn’t ever expected to be confirmed. “You look so beautiful moaning against my touch; I wonder if you’ll like the way your face scrunches up when I fuck your pretty little pussy, or even when I touch it.”

Slight fear shot through your nerves as suddenly, Sanemi dropped to the floor, taking you with him. No pain went through your body as he made impact with the floor. You figured out why immediately, your ass was against his hard crotch, his clothed outer thighs pressing against your naked inner thighs, and you made sight with the mirror and keened at the picture of your spread slick pussy. 

Sanemi shifted behind you, and although you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from how your cunt glistened in the light, you shook when you saw his bare arms, felt his bare chest against your back. 

“You drive me utterly fucking insane,” Sanemi growled hotly against your ear, crotch grinding up into your ass, and you pathetically looked at your flushed face as you ground back downwards onto him in return. A slow groaned out moan resonated from his mouth, and you shivered and gasped at the noise, your cunt clenching at nothing as Sanemi positioned your arms as he wanted them to be. Clutched into his hair, absolutely revealing your naked body to the mirror, denying you no salacious angle of your body. “I want you to watch me make you feel good, angel. Don’t look away, promise?”

“I p-promise,” you stammer, the slight glint of his eye that you can still see, making your toes curl.

And he began.

Sanemi’s finger slowly traced down your knees, the heat from his flesh nearly burning as you tremble in his hold. Your instincts fight whether to look at him from the mirror or normally. 

You keep your eyes onto the mirror. “Good job, you’re doing such a good job,” Sanemi voices, his fingers becoming feather-soft strokes against the inside of your legs that make you arch against his chest. a sharp inhale was what he was rewarded with as his fingers make small circles centimeters from where you crave him most. “I haven’t seen you react this intensely in so long. Is it because you’re watching your pretty face enjoy the praise?”

Unsure what to say, your head nods rapidly, your tongue falling dead in your mouth when his left-hand drags up your abdomen, scratching the underneath of your breasts until you can shake no more. “SANEMI!” you shriek, unable to take the teasing touches and watching your embarrassingly turned on face anymore. “SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING! ANYTHING, PLEASE!”

“Aw, you cracked so fast,” he chuckles against your ear, and you melt into a euphoric victory when his thick, rough fingers plunge into your cunt.

Immediately, your hips snap up to greet him, your body shifting in quick, fast snaps as you watch your soaked cunt fuck against his fingers, desperately, greedily taking him in more and more. The sight of his fingers disappearing into your cunt through the mirror, the way your teeth tore into your lips to keep your singing praises at a minimum, and how you could feel and swear you could see the heat pounding from your body take shape through the mirror.

You had never felt this tight yet undone. Your lust hazed eyes shifting from your almost too lewd facial expressions to the way Sanemi jaw flexed with his growled endless praises, to how your cunt greedily sucked him in, further and further until the pounding of your heart couldn’t even drown out the wet, squelching of your cunt.

“Fuck!” Sanemi cursed, his hips grinding further, harder into your ass, and you keened at the massive hard length that poked into your back. “Look at you, you’re so fucking hot, angel. So needy, so fucking greedy for everything that I’m giving you.”

“I want m-more!” you sob, your body hyper-aware of how fast his curled fingers were pounding into you. You craved the way his battle-scarred fingers dragged against your puffy inner walls, hips bucking so his fingers would drag against the spongy divots, sending your mind spiraling and your jaw falling in your wordless beg for more. You understood why Sanemi craved you like this, why he insisted you needed to see the way you looked when he fucked you because as the hand that was kneading and pulling on your breasts and nipples shot down to make sure your trembling thighs didn’t smash together in your building climax. How he continued to press sloppy, wet, hot, and bitten kisses against your neck, you were a perverts fantasy. “M-More ‘nemi, please give me more!” you practically wailed.

“You gonna cum around my fingers, angel?”

“I needa cum, I wanna cum!”

“I want you to cum around my fingers, look at yourself for me when you do,” Sanemi commanded, and you, in your lust-driven mindset, agreed. Your eyes were looking on your lewd face, and everything crumbled when the growing clenches of your cunt became a tight vice grip.

But the heated pressure between your legs had been festering for too long, the included visuals that sent your brain into putty had you cumming around his fingers, your hips bucking wildly, barbarically against his still conquesting fingers. “Yes, yes yesyesyeysyes, that was so good… your fingers are so good,” you babbled, your eyes crossing, unable to look at yourself anymore. The elation of the orgasm flooding your mind and muscles. But you hadn’t been fucking the man who could pound you for multiple rounds without tiring without picking up a thing or two. 

Twisting around your lips that were swollen from your biting and smooth with your saliva crashed against his. Sanemi didn’t resist your kiss, his lips crashing and moving without any hesitation against yours. You moaned when his fingers left your heat, and you slipped your tongue into his mouth as you ground your ass against his still throbbing hard-on. “I want your cock still, ‘nemi. I want you to fuck me with your cock, please fuck me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, okay!” Sanemi snarled, and his thighs slammed shut. 

You crawled off his lap, watching as the slick stained spot on his uniform glistened in the light. Frowning, not wanting to disturb him, you couldn't help but lick against the wet area, voice moaning deeply at the musky, sweet scent of your slick against the fabric.

“Y/n!” Sanemi weakly got out, his hips instinctively bucking towards your lapping tongue. 

You worked with him to get his uniform off his hips, your body not waiting for him to undress entirely before your mouth enveloped his thick veiny cock. The salty pre-cum invaded your senses, your tongue lapping up the underside of his cock before your mouth took in his swollen red head. You hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked his cockhead, your tongue swiping and moving at his leaking slit as Sanemi cursed the heavens for you, his hands grabbing onto your head and pulling you off him right when that shivering twitch of his cock pressed to your tongue.

Gasping, you looked at Sanemi’s nearly black eyes, disappointment heavy on your features.

“‘Nemi—” you pout, but Sanemi doesn’t let you finish.

You’re back almost straddling his waist, your back flush against his chest. He holds a strong, sturdy hand against your waist, keeping your waiting, wet cunt from lowering onto his hard cock. Your feet on the mats feel weak as you try to hold your weight above him, but when his teeth sink into the back of your neck, a spot that makes your body collapse without reason, you garble a scream when his cock sheathes completely within you.

Heavy, hot pants escape both of your mouths as you’re completely seated on his cock, the nearly inhumane girth of his cock making you dizzy at the surprise entrance. But you were much, much more fascinated with the way your pretty little pussy was stretched out so wide for his cock. He was buried in you, and even though it didn’t hurt to have him in you. The reflection showed how your lips pulled and stretched to fit him in, the small bulge of his cock in you was seen, and you cried in ecstasy.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” you begged, hips long gone from obeying any command Sanemi could try to give you as you fucked yourself against his length. “God, your cock is so good, ‘nemi! You look so good filling out my pretty fucking pussy!”

That is what makes Sanemi lose it, his hands that rest on your hips tightening with a bruising grip as he begins slamming into you. The wet noises of his cock entering and exiting of your sloppy, wet cunt at an even faster speed in which you were fucking him make your nails dig into his thighs, your eyes crossing, breathes hot and heavy. 

Twisting, curling pleasure thrums deep within your womb, tightening and warming with each successive thrust that sends Sanemi’s cock rubbing against your inner velvet walls. You cry his name, eyes dazed and dripping with want and need as you watch the slicked shine of his cock pounding into your without mercy. 

“You’re so fucking tight like this, angel, so fucking hot. You like the way you look like when I fuck you, huh, look at how godly you appear,” he snaps, his arms hugging your hips, his thrusting becoming short, deep, fierce snaps. 

You can’t look at yourself anymore, the heat of the sex and the electric pleasure that rides with every lick of his cock against your cervix, sending your hot, wet lips in search of his. Sanemi meets you halfway, open mouth moans and groans being exchanged between your open mouths as your tongues intermixed and pressed sinfully against each other. The noises that leave your wet sexes only fuel the raging fire in your cunt that has reignited to a hire flame than before.

“Cum in me,” you find yourself begging against his lips. “Please cum in me, don’t pull out, ‘nemi, please don’t pull out.”

“Fuck, fuck, you sure?” Sanemi grunted, his body heaving you both forward so that you were on your knees, and he was absolutely wrecking you from behind.

“Yes!” you affirm over and over again. your mind high off of him and how you looked in the mirror. “I want you in me, all of you in me!”

He let out a guttural whine, a sound that had you shaking beneath him and screaming when the coil in your cunt finally snapped.

Another orgasm crashed through you, and your spinning high echoed in your ears and curled your toes as you whimpered Sanemi’s name. With the sound of his hips slapping against your ass, and with his teeth burying into the nape of your neck, you felt the hot, liquid ropes burst from his cock, filling you up. The both of you remained there, panting as your sweat and slick covered bodies collapsed to the floor. 

“So…” he gasped, collapsing onto the mat beside you, pulling you into his chest so that you could rest against his scarred chest. “Did you like the mirror?”

“...I guess,” you antagonize, grinning when he frowns. “It was hot; you make me look hot.”

Sanemi snorted, his lips pressing to your sweat-covered forehead.

“I don’t do shit; that’s how you are.”

You chuckled, warm grogginess settling under your skin as you merely hum in agreement.

“The Hashira meeting is tomorrow, so I’ll be gone for two days,” Sanemi murmurs, reminding you of the dreaded two days alone. It wasn’t as if you had forgotten; you never do.

“Think anything interesting will happen?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, hopefully.”

You giggle, snuggling in closer to his chest. Yeah, hopefully.

[americasass91]

His Kind of Beautiful

Hello lovely people! I don’t even know where to begin here. My ex popped up as a friend I may know on Facebook the other day. Of course it brought up all these memories. (I’ve been with my husband for over a decade so this ex was from way back when.) Anyways, I couldn’t help but think back to when and why we broke up. We worked together (that was a mistake) and I was chatting with one of our coworkers. The guy looked at me and was like ‘I don’t want to get in the middle of anything but your boyfriend said something about you the other day and it bothered me.’ I told him to tell me what he said. ‘He said you weren’t pretty enough to blow him.’ (Fun fact! I had already blown him a few times by this point.) So of course I thought my life was ruined. I mean I was only 17/18. I called him right away and asked him if it was true. The fucker didn’t even deny it! He was like I was just joking around. So I told him since I wasn’t pretty enough to blow him, I wasn’t pretty enough to date him either. That’s the last time I spoke to him.

Anyways! That’s what inspired this little fic. I know we all go through days where we don’t feel pretty or beautiful. But you know what? We are all beautiful no matter what! Please if you ever feel less than that and need to talk, I am here and willing to listen! Nobody should go through life feeling anything less than beautiful.

So I knew I needed to somehow incorporate this into a fic. At first I was going to go with Steve but I took a look at my Masterlist and realized I only had one Andy fic on there. That’s just despicable! So without any further ado, please enjoy this fic with our lovely, handsome floofy haired lawyer daddy!

Rating: Explicit (Like I could write something that doesn’t involve sex with Andrew)

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: Language, fingering, unprotected sex(Remember: Sex is cleaner with a packaged weiner), and just Andy being fluffy

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You honestly didn’t even know why you had agreed to this. You hated first dates in general, let alone a blind date.

But your friend, Jane, assured you this guy was handsome and nice and worth your time to go out with.

So, you pulled a blue dress from your closet that you’d only worn maybe twice in your life and actually did your eye makeup.

After getting fully ready you take one last look at yourself in the mirror. For once you didn’t hate the woman staring back at you. This dress happened to accentuate your curves and the color of your eyeshadow made your eyes pop. You wouldn’t necessarily say you were pretty, but you looked decent.

You slip on your heels and grab your purse and head out of your apartment. As you go to lock your door, the apartment door behind you opens.

“Good evening, neighbor.”

You turn around with a smile on your face and return the greeting to your sinfully handsome neighbor, Andy.

He can’t help but notice how pretty you look. “Where are you going all dressed up?”

You blush and start heading towards the elevator together. “Oh, my friend set me up on a blind date. I’m nervous. Haven’t been on a date in awhile.”

He presses the button for the lobby. “Blind date, huh? Yeah I went on one of those recently. First date since the divorce. It was...interesting.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as you both headed into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. You turn towards him. “Interesting, how?”

“Well, for starters, she was almost an hour late. Then when she showed up, she didn’t even apologize for being late. She just sat down and demanded the waiter bring her a cocktail. By snapping her fingers at him.”

The elevator doors open. You head into the lobby and notice Andy following you. “So I think it’s safe to say you aren’t calling her for a second date?” He opens the door to the outside for you. You smile in thanks and head out into the warm evening air of Boston.

He rolls his eyes as he follows you onto the street and hails down a cab. “Absolutely not.” He gestures for you to take the cab.

You look at him confused. “Don’t you need one?”

He waves you off. “Nah, I’m heading to pick up Jake to take him to dinner. He finally found some time to fit his old man into his ‘busy’ teenager schedule.” He heads towards his Audi you now realize is parked in front of the building right behind your cab.

You scoff at him as you open the cab door. “Old man? Oh, please. You can’t be more than what? 38?”

He opens the door to his own vehicle and smirks at you. “Try 43, sweetheart. Hey! Good luck on your date!” He waves and gets into his car. You return the wave and get into the cab and give the driver the address to the restaurant and try to get your mind off of how good Andy’s ass looked in the jeans he was wearing.

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You arrived at the restaurant with a few minutes to spare. You wanted to get there a little early so you could get a drink from the bar and calm your nerves.

You find a seat away from the other patrons and order a glass of wine. You scan your eyes over the room to see if your date has arrived yet. You weren’t entirely sure what he looked like but you knew he was going to be wearing a red shirt.

The bartender sets your wine in front of you. You hand over a 10 dollar bill and tell him to keep the change. As you sip your wine, you check your phone for the time. 7:02. You’re about ready to text your friend to ask if your date is normally late when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

You turn around and look up at who you assume to be your date for the evening. He was handsome. Not as handsome as Andy, but handsome enough.

He gives you a small smile. “Hi, are you Y/N?”

You nod your head with a smile. “Yes, hi! It’s nice to meet you. You must be Jason?” You then gesture to the seat next to you. “Would you like to have a drink before we get a table?”

He nods once and takes a seat next to you and flags down the bartender to order a scotch.

The bartender sets the drink in front of him. Jason thanks him and pays for his drink.

You can feel the awkwardness start to creep in. And when that happens, you tend to get chatty.

“So, what do you do for a living?” You smile hoping to ease the tension building.

He turns to look you up and down. And not subtly. He shakes his head in disapproval and downs his drink before standing up. “Listen, I’m sorry but I can’t do this. Jane lied to me.”

You can’t help the confused look that crosses your face. “She lied to you? How?”

He gives you another not so subtle once over. “She told me you were beautiful. And no offense, but I just don’t see it.”

You can’t help the jaw drop. Sure you knew you weren’t gorgeous but damn. You’d never had a man be bold enough to actually say it to your face. “So, you’re just gonna leave? Not even give me a chance because I’m not your version of beautiful?”

He scoffs and checks out a girl that walks by the two of you. “What can I say? I’ve got standards that you just don’t meet.”

You feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut. That’s it. You’re fucking done. You reach behind you and grab your wine glass and throw the drink in his face.

You grab your purse and head towards the door. You turn back to face him. “I may not meet your ‘beauty standards’ but at least I’m not an asshole!” With that you flip him off and head outside to hail a cab to head back home.

You manage to make it almost all the way home before the tears start to fall. Sure he was a stranger and his opinion didn’t matter. But it still fucking hurt that he didn’t want you and didn’t even think you were pretty enough to share a meal with. Your self esteem already sucked and this asshole sure as hell didn’t make it any better.

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The blue dress goes in the trash as soon as you step into your apartment. You take off your nice lace bra you had put on. You take your makeup off with a wipe and pull your hair up in a ponytail. You throw on some hello kitty pajama shorts and a t- shirt that’s at least 2 sizes too big for you.

Then you head into your kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine from a bottle you keep in the fridge for emergencies. You think this classifies as one.

You grab your phone off the counter and call your favorite Chinese place. You order double what you normally do because nobody wants to sleep with you. Might as well eat whatever the fuck you wanted. God, you can’t believe you shaved your legs for that asshole.

The lady on the phone lets you know it’ll be at least an hour. You give her your card number and thank her before refilling your now empty glass.

As you’re sitting on the couch waiting for your food, you can’t help but replay the events of the evening. Then that takes you into a downward spiral as you think back to all of your exes.

Come to think of it, they’ve all left you for one reason or another. A majority of them cheated with someone way prettier than you. Wow, maybe you were the problem. Clearly you were going for guys out of your league.

Maybe you needed to reevaluate the standards you had. Which quite frankly, wasn’t much. You just wanted them to not be a serial killer.

Perhaps you should just give up on dating. You were perfectly happy alone. Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be for you.

Before your thoughts could spiral anymore, your doorbell rang. You glance at your phone. Damn that hour flew by.

You grab $10 out of your purse for a tip and open your door. As you’re grabbing the bags and thanking the delivery guy, Andy steps out of the elevator with confusion written all over his face. “Hey, Y/N. Thought you had a date?”

You could almost feel the tears trying to well up again. No, you weren’t going to cry. Especially in front of your handsome neighbor.

“Yeah, it uh, didn’t work out. Shit happens.”

He puts his key in the lock and opens his door then turns to look at you. “Not your type?”

You can’t help the rush of air that leaves your mouth. “Not exactly. I wasn’t his. Apparently Jane, our mutual friend, told him I was beautiful and well. He didn’t agree with her.”

Andy furrows his brows and cocks his head to the side. “What? Was he blind or something?”

You shake your head. “Nope. I just wasn’t up to his standards.”

Andy mumbles something under his breath. “Well, I’m sorry. Some guys can be real assholes.”

You wave him off. “No need to apologize. I get that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”

Andy shakes his head. “Still, I’m sorry. That really sucks. And he really said you weren’t beautiful to your face?”

You give him a sad smile and shrug your shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m used to not being wanted. Have a nice night, Andy.”

You turn and head back into your apartment before he has a chance to reply. You don’t need his pity. You just need to drown yourself in the rest of your wine and gorge yourself on the greasy Chinese.

Just as you set the food down on the counter, you hear a knock at your door.

Confused, you head over and open it to find Andy standing there. And he looks kinda pissed.

“What do you mean you’re used to not being wanted?”

You sigh and put your hands on your hips. “It’s not the first time some guy hasn’t wanted me and it won’t be the last.”

Andy shakes his head as he pushes his way inside and shuts the door with his foot. “There’s just something I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “And what’s that?”

He then proceeds to walk closer to you, forcing you backwards until your back touches the wall. He puts his hands on either side of your head and gazes down at you. You’ve never been this close to him before. You can feel his chest move against yours as he breathes. You can feel the heat radiating off of him.God, he smells good.  You realize you’re not breathing and take a deep breath. He smiles down at you and takes his left hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear that had fallen free from your ponytail.

“That some moron would think that you’re not beautiful. He’s fuckin crazy, Y/N.”

Your breath hitches as his left hand has now grabbed the back of your neck to raise your lips towards his. You close your eyes, waiting for the inevitable kiss. “I guess I’m just not everyone’s kind of beautiful.”

He leans in, just barely brushing his lips against yours. “You’re my kind of beautiful.”

WIth that, he presses his lips to yours for a slow but intense kiss. You can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him all the way up against you. He grunts when his hardening cock comes into contact with your soft belly.

After a few minutes of intense kisses that take your breath away, he pulls back and presses his forehead against yours. “Will you let me show you how beautiful I think you are?”

You don’t even need to think about it. “Yes, please.”

He smiles and leans in for one more quick kiss. “Take me to the bedroom, pretty girl.”

You quickly grab his hand and lead him down the hall towards your bedroom, making a quick stop in the kitchen to throw the Chinese food in the fridge.

Once in your room Andy spins you around and presses your back up against his front. He leans forward and starts placing soft kisses against your neck. His left hand rests at your waist while his right hand moves up under your shirt towards your breasts. “Is this okay, pretty girl?” His voice is so low and husky. Your panties didn’t even stand a chance.

You nod. “Yes, please. Touch me, Andy.”

He groans a little and reaches up to cup your right breast in his hand. You hear him let out a growl as he continues to fondle your breast. While his left hand makes its way into your shorts, brushing his finger over your clit. You jolt forward at the sensation, whimpering out in the process.

“You like that, pretty girl? Like my fingers on your little cunt?”

You grab a hold of his wrist and writhe against him as he lowers his fingers towards your entrance. He gathers your slick up before moving his fingers back towards your clit and starts slowly circling it.

“Fuck, Andy. Feels so good.”

“Yeah? You want my fingers inside you, baby?”

You quickly nod. “Please. Need to feel you.”

He lowers his hand back down to your entrance and slowly slides his middle finger against your walls. You arch your back and moan out his name as he starts pumping it slowly.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight. When’s the last time you’ve been touched, pretty girl?”

“Too long. Feels so good. I need more. Please.”

His index finger quickly joins the middle one. He starts pumping them in and out of you quicker, curling them just right so they rub up against your g spot. “Oh, fuck!” You can’t help but yell out at the feeling. It’s been so long since someone’s taken the time to pleasure you, let alone find your g spot. You could feel the coil tightening already. You were embarrassingly close and he hadn’t even really started yet.

“You gonna cum for me already, pretty girl? Do it. Make a mess on my fingers.”

He moves his thumb and starts circling your clit. Your legs start shaking. He presses his thumb down just a little harder and you’re gone. You cum with a shout of Andy’s name into the otherwise empty room.

He continues pumping his fingers in and out but removes his thumb from your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you too much. “Good girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

You lower your head in embarrassment. He spins you around and places his finger under your chin so he can raise your head so you’re looking at him. “Don’t hide from me, pretty girl. I want to see everything.” He takes his left hand and raises it to his mouth, sucking your essence off of his fingers. He moans into his hand. “You taste so fucking sweet. Knew you would.”

He grabs your face to pull you in for a sweet kiss as he slowly pushes you towards the bed. The back of your knees touch your mattress before he pulls away. He smiles down at you as he grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up and off, tossing it somewhere in the room. His gaze then falls to your breasts. He licks his lips hungrily. Before he can get too caught up, he hooks his thumbs into your shorts and pulls them and your panties down and off your legs, helping you step out of them.

He stands back up and pulls you in for another kiss, your hands fall to his chest. You start to unbutton his shirt, revealing his chest to you a little at a time. You pull away to get the last few buttons and push his shirt over his shoulders and are surprised to see his chest and abdomen sprinkled with various tattoos. You never would’ve guessed. You can’t help but let your hand trace over a quote on his collarbone or onto the eagle covering his pec.

“I never would have pegged you for a tattoo guy. These are amazing.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I only have them where they can be covered up by clothes.” He grabs your wrists to stop your tracing. “You can trace all of them some other time, pretty girl. Right now, I need to be inside of you.”

You can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine at his words. His dirty talk was going to be the death of you.

He moves his hands towards his belt buckle and starts undoing it. You couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble to his hands. You place your hands on top of his and look at his face. “Hey, if you don’t want to do this, that’s ok.”

He looks into your eyes and gives you a shy smile. “No, I want to. God, do I want to. It’s just, I haven’t been with anyone since Laurie and I guess I’m a little nervous.”

You couldn’t help the pull you felt at your heart at his words. He was nervous. Thank god. So were you. This beautiful man wanted to sleep with you, of course you were nervous. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous too. You’re kind of intimidating.”

He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brows. “Intimidating? Why is that?”

You remove your hands from his and gesture up and down his body. “Just look at you. You’re breathtaking, Andy. And I’m just me.” Your gaze falls down to your feet, unable to look at him.

He puts his finger under your chin and raises your head so that you’re forced to look at him. “Speak for yourself, pretty girl. You’re the breathtaking one.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yeah, right.”

His gaze on you hardens just a little. He grabs your hand and places it over his pants against his erection. “Do you feel that? Feel what you do to me? Nobody but you can make me this hard, pretty girl. I’ve been in a constant state of arousal since I moved in, watching you coming in and out of your apartment in your tight skirts and almost see-through blouses. Making me go fuckin’ crazy.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything or make a move then?” Of course your self doubt was starting to creep in. Maybe this was him just wanting to get his dick wet. You needed to know.

He grabs your hands and brings your knuckles to his mouth, giving them a soft kiss. “Honestly? I thought there was no way in hell an old man like me would have a shot with a sweet thing like you.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your mouth. “Please. You’re only 43.”

He pulls you in for a sweet, lingering kiss. “Yeah, well. Probably too old for you. But after what you said to me, about how you’re used to not being wanted? I stopped caring how old I was. I needed to show you just exactly how much you’re wanted. So, can I still show you, pretty girl?”

You quickly nod your head and help him finish removing his pants, leaving him in just his black briefs. The fabric doing nothing to hide the outline of his hard cock. Jesus. He looked big. Bigger than anything you’ve taken. You couldn’t wait.

You quickly pulled his briefs over his hips and down his legs. His cock sprang free and smacked against his inked abdomen, making him hiss. You grab him at the base and slowly start pumping him, looking at his face for his reaction. His head is thrown back and his eyes are closed as he moans out your name at the feeling. His hands are gripping your hips.

You smear his precum that’s gathered at the tip and use that to help jerk him off a little faster. You tighten your grip as you pick up your pace, loving the sounds you're pulling from him. You start to go on your knees when he suddenly pulls you back up. You look at him in confusion. “If I let you continue, this will be over before it even starts. Gonna make me blow my load like an inexperienced teenager.”

You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself but once again furrow your brows as Andy walks to the other side of the bed. He starts looking around in your nightstand. “Do you have any condoms?”

You shake your head. “I did but they expired. If you’re okay with it, I’m on birth control. And I got tested after my last partner and I’m clean.”

He pushes the drawer to the nightstand back in and climbs onto the bed and lays on his back, hand lazily stroking his cock. “I’m more than okay with that. I just had a full work up done. I’m healthy as well.”

You barely acknowledge what he said, unable to remove your eyes from his hand that’s wrapped around his cock. You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth and let out a little whimper. Andy chuckles at you. “Well, are you going to just stare at it, pretty girl? Or are you going to hop on my lap and get comfy?”

That gets your attention. You meet his gaze. “You want me on top?”

He nods. “Wanna be able to see all of you, baby girl.” He removes his hand from his cock and pats his thigh. “Come on, pretty girl. Ride me.”

Well that sight just caused a new wave of arousal to pool at your core. You had only been on top once before and it was only for a short time.

You place your knees gently on the bed and crawl the short way to him. You swing your left leg over him so that you're sitting right above where he wants you. You thread your hands through his hair and lean down for a heated kiss. You lick his bottom lip, wanting in. He doesn’t even hesitate to open his mouth to let you in.

He places his left hand on your hip while the other grabs his cock. He pushes your body down so that you’re hovering over it. “Please. Fuck me, pretty girl.”

You keep your lips attached to his as you slowly sink down on him. You get about halfway before you stop and pull away to look at him, trying to slow down your breathing. He brings his right hand up to cup your cheek. “You ok? Do you wanna stop?” The quick shake of your head makes him chuckle. “No, god no. I just need a minute. You’re fucking huge Andy.”

He can’t help the cocky smirk that appears. “Yeah, I know. Just take all the time you need.” He rubs his hand up and down your back to help calm you down. It only takes you a few more seconds before you continue to impale yourself on his impressive dick.

You let out a breath of relief when your hips settle flush against his. He grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for another kiss. You slowly start rocking your hips against him. He feels fucking incredible. Hitting all the right spots inside of you.

You pull away from the kiss and raise up a little and plant your hands on your headboard for some leverage. The rock of your hips speed up significantly. You move all the way up until his tip is barely inside before you slam yourself back down against him. You’re pulling the most beautiful sounds from his lips. It makes you move that much faster and harder against him.

Andy moves his hands to your breasts and gives them a good squeeze. Then he starts pinching your nipples, eliciting a moan from you. “That’s it, baby girl. Doing so good. You look so gorgeous fuckin’ yourself on my cock. Goddamn. Riding me so well.”

The praise he’s giving you just spurs you on. You raise up even more and place your hands on his chest and pick up your pace just a little more. You can feel the coil tightening in your belly. You’re going to cum and hard.

Andy keeps his left hand on your breast and keeps pinching your nipple. He moves his right hand down until his thumb is pressing against your clit, giving you the friction you needed. “Can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. Cum for me. Make a mess.”

He presses his thumb just a little harder and that’s all it takes. You free fall over the edge of bliss with a scream of Andy’s name, your hips faltering from their rhythm.

You slow down your pace as you come down from your high, collapsing against Andy’s chest. He cradles you in his arms and rubs his hands up and down your back. “Still with me, sweet girl?”

You weakly nod your head and take just a second to catch your breath. It takes you a moment to realize he didn’t finish. You raise your head off his chest to look at him. “Why didn’t you cum?”

He smiles and pulls you in for a sweet kiss. “Oh, I will. Don’t worry. Just wanted to watch you fall apart on top of me. And let me just say, it’s one of the prettiest sights I’ve ever seen. You look gorgeous when you cum, Y/N. Almost made me lose it. Think you can take some more?”

You nod your head eagerly, already wanting to cum around his cock again. “Then why don’t you be a good girl and turn around and get on your hands and knees for me?”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You quickly pull off of him and turn around to get on your hands and knees. He takes a second to admire the view of your once again dripping pussy before he gets up on his knees behind you. He grabs a hold of your ass and gives it a hard squeeze. “Such a nice ass. I bet it’ll jiggle real nice while I’m fuckin’ you.”

He grabs a hold of the base of his cock and moves it towards your entrance. Before he starts pushing in, he gives your right cheek a hard smack. You drop down onto your elbows and moan into the sheets below you. Fuck. You didn’t know you liked that. He places his right hand on your hip and squeezes.

“Hmm. We’ll have to revisit that later.” And that’s the last thing he says before he slams home. You arch your back and fist the sheets as he sets a hard and fast pace.

And boy was he right. Your ass does jiggle nicely with every snap of his hips against it. He threads his left hand through your hair and gives it a tug. It makes you clench around him. “Fuck, baby girl. Keep squeezing me like that and I’m not going to last long.”

You move your head to the side and peer back at him. You clench around him again and it earns you another groan and smack to your ass. “Want you to cum for me, Andy. Please. Fill me up.”

He stills for just a second and wraps his left arm around your chest and lifts you up until your back is flush against his chest. This time he keeps his thrusts nice and slow. He places a kiss to the side of your neck. “Yeah? Want me to fill that pussy up, huh? To claim you as mine?”

You let a whimper escape your lips and you grip onto his arm that’s holding you against him as he starts picking up the pace of his thrusts. You clench around him again. “I am yours, Andy.”

He quickly moves his right hand down and starts circling your clit. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re gonna make me cum. Cum with me, please.”

You start pushing back and meeting his thrusts, desperate to get him to his release.

It only takes a few more snaps of his hips and circles against your clit before you're both falling over the edge while moaning out the other's name.

He continues pumping his hips until he’s completely spent and gently moves to lay the both of you onto your sides, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms.

He slowly pulls out of you and turns you around so that you’re facing him. He tucks your now loose hair behind your ear. “Hi, there.”

You chuckle and move up against him and press your face into the crook of his neck. “Hello.” You place a gentle kiss to his pulse point and relax as he wraps his arms around you.

There’s only a few minutes of peaceful silence when:

“So, was that good for you?”

You pull away and look up at him with an incredulous look on your face and smack his shoulder. You both start laughing.

“Of course it was good for me. Did you enjoy yourself, Andrew?”

He pulls you in for another sweet kiss. “Oh, yeah. But you know. Just to be sure. We might need to do it again.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. It only makes you laugh once more.

“You are such a dork. How about we get a shower and then heat up the food you so rudely interrupted me from eating before?”

His jaw drops in mock hurt. “You weren’t complaining when I was making you come around my cock, pretty girl.”

You sit up and stretch your arms over your head. You swing your legs over the side and stand up, wobbling just a little. You hear a chuckle behind you and playfully send a glare his way as you make your way to the bathroom.

You turn on the light and can’t help but look at your reflection in the mirror.

Your hair is a hot mess, having fallen out of it’s ponytail. Your lips were swollen and red from all the kissing. Your nipples looked slightly red from all pinching they had been subjected to. Your skin flushed from the orgasms. And there was what looked like a bruise forming on your hip in the shape of his hand.

And yet. You’ve never felt more beautiful.

You see Andy walking up behind you in the mirror. He smiles at you.

You turn around and return it before throwing your arms around his neck and raising yourself up on your toes to pull him in for a kiss. He gladly wraps his arms around you and reciprocates.

You pull away with a smile still attached to your face. “Not that I mind, pretty girl. But, what was that for?”

You shrug. “Just thank you. For making me feel beautiful.”

He smiles down at you and pulls you in for another quick kiss. You can feel him hardening once again against your hip. “Why don’t we skip the shower for now? I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

And with that he pulls you back into the bedroom where he spends the rest of the night showing you that you’re his kind of beautiful.

Permanent Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @IIIoIs 

[inkmemes]

this  country  (  2017  -  2020  )  sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  the  bbc  mockumentary.  trigger  warning  for  mentions  of  religion,  death,  sex.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“i like the underdog.”

“don't be a fucking dick.”

“everyone comes together on days like today and just forgets their utter hatred of each other.”

“everyone who's anyone's going to be there and there are people from my past that would love to see me slain.”

“there's a tea rooms there and under the counter they've got a panic button and if i take one step inside, they can press that. the police will be there in three minutes.”

"he whatsapped me the other day asking us to go laser quest with him and i ... well, i clicked on it by accident, didn't i? so he knows i've seen it."

"i mean, i get it, but it's not making me feel nothing."

“it's baffling. i'm baffled by the entire situation, if i'm honest.”

“what the actual fuck? what the actual fuck? you have fucking lost your head, mate. you have lost your fucking head.”

“when i get hold of you, i swear to god i will fucking deck you.”

"someone's just been throwing plums at my house. i'm going to kill them. i can't believe it. i can't believe it. all over this. plumming on here, plumming on that. plum on the sofa, look! there's nothing left that hasn't been plummed."

“i've had a target on my back since the day i was born.”

“thank you very much, enjoy your free potatoes.”

“do you know how small your brain is?”

“hogwarts is that way, dumbledore.”

“he used to say i looked like the puppet off the dolmio advert.”

“there's a kid crying over there. do you want me to...? i can tell him to shut the fuck up if you want?”

“he genuinely looked like a moomin.”

“on my first day of karate club, karate master goes to me, [name], i don't know why you're here because i can't teach you anything. if anything, you should be teaching me." and just gave me his black belt.”

“you know that little old blind man? yeah, when i was punching him in his face, the lens from his glasses broke and cut my knuckle.”

“some things are just best left in the past, where they belong.”

“what's the point in knocking if you're just going to walk in anyway?”

“it was a miscarriage of justice though, cos what people forget is 12 out of them 20 hostages actually found it funny.”

“i lied so much i still don't know what's real life and what's plain lies.”

“i'm so glad you're out of that lying phase.”

“he likes to be the only person on the road, so whenever he sees a car coming the other way he just pulls over.”

“nasa went through hundreds of them in the '60s. and now every time i see a really bright star in the sky i can't wish on it, cos in my head i'm thinking, ‘that's probably just a spacecraft with some monkey bones in it.’”

“you absolute traitor. that's my cheese - it's my fucking house!”

“don't you dare eat that cheese. you eat that and i will smash this. i promise you, i will smash you with this.”

“fuck! you switched them!”

“yeah, i can see it's fucking burnt, sherlock.”

“i honestly am ashamed to know him, sometimes.”

“if you knock on someone's door, don't take no for an answer. get into their house. if they say, ‘leave my house’, stay. and if they say, ‘i'm going to call the police’, you walk upstairs and see if there's anybody else upstairs to sell to.”

“she looks like uncle fester.”

“right. i'm going to piss in their flowers, then.”

“you really need to go home. your mum's called the police and everything.”

“you're also fired from being my best mate, by the way.”

“in business, there will always be setbacks. i don't drink my own juice, fray bentos doesn't eat his own pies. but that's business.”

“do you know what, i don't actually want to play this any more, because it is actually very, very boring.”

“i'm ashamed of myself, that's not usually me, so don't get the wrong impression.”

“i genuinely think one of them fancies me as well.”

“it's fate her moving across the street.”

“the problem with finding a girlfriend in the village is that most of the girls you meet round here are old-age pensioners.”

“yeah, i am looking for a relationship, but thing is i've just got so many trust issues, yeah, with being fucked over massive in the past, so no matter how much i get close to someone now i'm thinking in the back of my head, ‘shit, am i going to get fucked over?’ because i've been fucked over in the past massively. my last relationship proper fucked me up.”

“i went through a really dark phase. listening to papa roach and just blowing everything up with them little french bangers.”

“shut up, you don't know what you're talking about!”

“i don't like the man. i know he's my uncle, but i don't like him.”

“it's just malicious lies, that's all it is.”

“i'm not saying i've got a cruel heart, but if she ain't willing to take me as i am rather than the monster i've become, then she can literally just jog on back to sea with all the other fish cos i don't care.”

“what do you look for in a boyfriend?”

“the key to dating, yeah, is the two rs and the three ts. 'respect, rapport, and talking, talking, talking.' don't ever let that ball hit the ground. good relationships are built on great conversation.”

“on a date, you've got to tell them all the interesting stuff about you, because that's what they'll be interested in.”

“he said to me, he goes, ‘you can't smoke on here.’ i said, ‘i'm not smoking, i'm vaping.’ the look on his face when i said that. i don't think he knew what vaping… what a vape is.”

“you would make me the happiest mouse if you say yes and become my spouse.”

“here's a tip, [name], next time you take a chick out on a date, don't bore her to tears.”

“roses are red, violets are blue, i've got five fingers, the third one's for you.”

“get out of my way, pipe cleaner.”

“[name] phoned me the other day at three in the morning saying, ‘come quick,

there's a hedgehog in the garden that looks exactly like grandad.’ so i got up, i got dressed and i ran over to [name]'s as fast as i could and then i just stopped in the middle of the street at three in the morning and thought, ‘what the fuck am i doing with my life?’

“you're joking me? because if you are joking me, that is massively harsh.”

“oh, let me get a song up on youtube. you're going to absolutely love this, [name]. here we go… listen to this. oh, for fuck's sake, advert.”

“let's go down the pub and get shitfaced.”

“where do i see myself in five years? well, me and [name] will have a flat in the middle of the village and all of our furniture will be inflatable and we'll have cable and it will pay for itself, because we're going to use the spare room to breed quails, because their eggs are worth fucking shitloads.”

“is this about the calippo, still? because you offered to buy me that.”

“if he wants to go, good luck to him, i say. i reckon he thinks that i can't live without him, which is a laugh, because he went a whole weekend away once and i got on all right. i just ended up following this cat around the village.”

“i've got to do what's right for me, at the end of the day, instead of worrying about other people.”

“how about you say sorry? sorry for the massive knife that's hanging out the back of my back because of you.”

“oh, and while you're stabbing me in the back, feel free to bend down and kiss my arse.”

“can i just ask you an honest question? why would you want to leave the village when we've got a pub and a shop?”

“i think you don't know how lucky we have it to be doing nothing with our lives, like. we're all going to die, anyway, so what's the point in doing anything?”

“i want ownership of the words fucknut and dickmilk.”

“i had this come through the post. and i've got a few concerns about it. firstly, this guy on the front looks really arrogant. not the sort of guy i was expecting, if i'm honest.”

“this is starting to stress me out a little bit.”

“why are you trying to stress me out? you know i'm already stressed out as it is.”

“the bloke that used to live in there, right, kept hearing strange noises coming out of his attic at night. and he'd go to the fridge and find that food was missing from the fridge. so he thought, ‘i'm just going to go up to the attic and check this out.’ and he found an entire family of peruvian panpipe buskers just living up there. and he thought ‘i'm just going to leave them to it, ‘cos they're not really doing me any harm.’ and then, a few years later, he thought, "well, i'll just go up to the attic to check on them. ‘see if they're all right.’ and it turned out they'd all died of asbestos poisoning. yeah, he doesn't live here any more.”

“some people will always be scared of me, and i can't change that, no matter how nice i am. but there's a balance to be had between being nice and being feared.”

“don't really like catching up. it's not my thing.”

“i just watched this video of this girl doing a random act of kindness on youtube. she basically paid for this old man's shopping at the till. and this old man was, like, about 90 years old. and he's so fucking old, like, you could see through his skin. and he just starts bawling his eyes out. he's like, ‘you're fucking joking me, this ain't fucking real life.’ i just thought... i want to make someone feel like that. ‘cos that's... i really… that's what i want to do.”

“i'm not dead. just can't be arsed to text her sometimes.”

“you know, correct me if i'm wrong, but four texts a day is complete madness. no-one can keep up with that.”

“i am doing kind things selfishly.”

“i was at midnight mass one year, right, someone got tipped off i was there. as i was coming out the church, someone tries to shoot me with a crossbow.”

“well, i haven't seen the film, have i? that's why i came here - to watch the fucking film - like a normal human being.”

“i've made an effort by coming here tonight. i didn't want to come.”

“i had to wheel him here from his house in an asda trolley, cos he was just too heartbroken to move.”

“sometimes you don't know what you got until you ain't got it any more. like blockbuster's. i just took 'em for granted - and then, one day, gone, and you spend ages trying to figure out what went wrong, and then you realise it was your fault all along.”

“i thought you said you wanted to fix things.”

“she wanted it to go that way, and it just wasn't gonna go that way. she even got me thinking that they'd get back together… ..but that's manipula.... manipulative people... do that. and he's better off without her.”

“that wasn't much to write home about.”

“it's fucking dead, isn't it?”

“basically, somebody's been sending me threatening letters, and i don't know who's doing it - and i am concerned, because my peripheral vision is poor, so, if somebody attacks me from the sides or snipes at me from an upstairs window, i am fucked - but my hearing is excellent, see? so i just need to spend a few days inside honing my sonar, and i'll be fine then.”

“if you don't like the work, the circus is in town and they're always looking for clowns.”

“his soul is just going to crumble to dust.”

“this really is not a good situation for me. a physical threat is something that i can deal with, but a sexual thing is not my area of expertise.”

“just really fucked in the head, mate.”

“what have i done? i haven't done anything wrong.”

“do you know how sad that is? that is so, actually, sad. that makes me sad for you, that you can't take a joke.”

“i think i just got a bit carried away with the whole thing.”

“your finger's going up my arsehole, mate.”

“i'll hold the back of your head, so you don't bash yourself.”

“when i lie in future, i don't want a massive lecture on how bad lying is, cos deep down, you're the worst of us all, mate.”

“i'd quite like a coke.”

“it's going to be like gluing a breadstick back together, because… like, as if a breadstick's been in a blender and it's all… ...the pieces smashed up.”

“like, this one time i started a fight club in the village hall, and i got a black eye from beating myself up. but it made my enemies think, ‘fuck, if she can do that to herself, what the fuck can she do to me?’”

“i'm absolutely 1,000% sure i've broken it in two places.”

“i knew this day would come.”

“i should be in tk maxx, getting the bargains that i deserve.”

“unlike you, [name], i'm not a fashion disaster.”

“i'm still warm in my grave, and she's sucking off the pallbearer.”

“you know, it took me ten years to get over [name], and i only went out with her for half a day.”

“i swear to god, if i see him here again, i swear to god, i will have no hesitation in just going up to him and just planting one on his face.”

“right, then keep your nose out of my business, yeah? nosy old cock-womble.”

“[name]’s attitude to me is puzzling. if i walk past her in the street

and say hi, she'll tell me to fuck off. yet every year, she sends me a really sweet, nice christmas card. you know, there's just no consistency there.”

“he's good-looking up close, isn't he?”

“don't show me any weakness, because i will take advantage.”

“no, put the brick down, you fucking psychopath.”

“when i asked him, he just said, ‘come to my office now,’ which means we're in the fucking shit, cos we're always in fucking shit.”

“i shouldn't be paying you at all.”

“i've always had a son. i talk about him all the time.”

“he's my son. he's not my dog.”

“it reminds me of the wicker man. i don't really know why.”

“i just find it weird how you can be so close to someone and they can be such a big part of your life, and then the next minute, you're just sort of strangers in the night.”

“i don't want the emotional implications.”

“well, about five years ago, i sold my birthday to my mum for about 200 quid, which means my mum's legally entitled now to never celebrate my birthday ever again for the rest of my life. not even, like, a happy birthday cup of tea, or a moonpig card, nothing - which is the worst decision i ever made in my entire life.”

“he deserves that anyway, because he's been sexting my nan, so…”

“what's this surprise? cos i need to know whether it's going to be worth this walk.”

“i always see them banners above the motorway, and i always thought, ‘who the fuck does them?’ well, now i know. people like me.”

“did you know you can't get stung by a stinging nettle if you grab the leaf top and bottom, like that? it's only when you touch it on the sides, it stings. agh, actually, that stung, then.”

“pez dispenser, they're cursed. they are, i'm not even joking. honestly, when i had one of them, i had the worst bout of bad luck i ever had in my life.”

“i swear down, it's a short cut. it might be a pleasant walk, we might enjoy it.”

“i'm not scared of the fox twins. i'd just like to sit them down and ask 'em plainly, ‘look, guys, what is going on? ‘cos this has just gotten completely out of hand now. you know, stop walking on your knuckles, stand up straight, be the best version of you that you can be. get a job, even. there's a trolley boy who works at tesco's, you know, who may as well have been raised by wolves. if he can get a job, you guys can walk it.’”

“yes, there has been talk of strange goings-on in the woods, ghost sightings and the like. but… ...they're never from particularly reliable sources.”

“i live with a ghost. there's a ghost in that house. he's like a civil war cavalier, with all the hair and the hat and all that. and every time i walk into the living room, he doffs his cap. and on his shoulder, he's got this crow that barks at me. it means i spend less time in the house, really. not because of him, because he's-he's quite peaceable. but the crow is malevolent. and i'm not having that. i can't share my house with a malevolent bird.”

“that's haunted as fuck.”

“am i going mad here, or does that, to you, look like that's where just ghost will hang out all the time?”

“look at him, little red riding twat.”

“if he's got an attitude with me, i swear to god, i'll just grab the steering wheel and drive us all into a wall.”

“it's a bit annoying, actually. cos this is not the first or the second time i've had to tell you, really, is it?”

“his sparkle has just gone.”

“you know my dad actually wrote the song wonderwall on the back of a beer mat in the space of ten minutes, don't you?”

“i've just got a tiny, tiny, tiny little favour to ask you.”

“when i think of [name], i think of someone who is very loyal. and very, very stupid. sort of more stupid than loyal. sort of 70% stupid, 30% loyal, probably. because she's very loyal. but extremely stupid.”

“do you know what? i actually don't think he loves you at all and i don't think he's ever loved you.”

“all right, that's harsh and unnecessary, but fine.”

“frankly, she is behaving like the antichrist.”

“i literally just got here.”

“you are such an unemotional slab of ham, [name].”

“i've got so much shit on that man you would not believe.”

“there's something in my eye.”

“i just can't quit him, you know?”

“yeah, we might have a fiery relationship,  but when we're together, it's just… it's just pure chemistry, isn't it?”

“i'm not proud of it, believe me. but at the end of the day, i'm a very vindictive person, you know? it is what makes me me.”

“i basically went out and bought an alpaca off gumtree for £500. of all the mistakes i've made in my life, that was possibly the largest. definitely the physically largest.”

“yeah, i really don't wanna talk about that.”

“her only loyalty is to herself, staffies, and the tv channel dave… ...which, in my opinion, is a tv channel made by knuckle-draggers for knuckle-draggers.”

“i can't move on till i've seeked revenge, unfortunately.”

“if that was in france, that would be fine, but we're not in france.”

“the only thing we had in common, really, was stealing, and that was more my thing that i got him onto. but it just goes to show, you know, some friendships last and some friendships don't, but that's just the way it is.”

“you know it was me that got you sacked, don't you?”

“the thing i learnt about friendship is, you gotta accept each other's flaws, no matter how toxic they may be.”

“shit-stirring from beyond the grave.”

[gingersnaaps]

at your window

hanahaki: the fictional disease where a person, afflicted by unrequited love, grows flowers in their lungs and stomach. unless the love is reciprocated, the disease will grow fatal. there's one workaround, though - one that issei matsukawa is very interested in: the plant can be physically removed.

wc: ~3.8k

tags/tw's(PLEASE PLEASE READ): n*fw, masturbation only(no sex), stalking, snuff, gore, blood, yandere!matsukawa, sorta necro(attraction but not sex), noncon filming, fem!reader but no mention of genitals

a/n: for @suedebunn's april showers collab // this is the most self-indulgent thing i've ever written and i spent way too long on it. it's supposed to lean towards horror?

i don't want minors interacting with my content

March 8th, 2013

[12:47 am]

The longer Issei sits outside your window, the harder it becomes to stop himself.

His face is pressed up against the dusty glass pane, peering inside at the outline of your sleeping body, and he finds that he can’t help but fixate on it. You look so peaceful, so tranquil, completely at rest as your mind flits between the shadowy realms that dreams inhabit.

He wonders what kind of wonderland you’re in right now - if it’s cotton-candy pink and delightful, just like you, or dark and hazy and spun with danger.

You’d look beautiful in any setting, he thinks, and finds his hand inadvertently drifting downwards.

His gaze rakes over the rise and fall of your chest, taking in the flashes of bare skin where your sheer nightgown rides up, his breath catching as his palm glides over his clothed cock. The friction feels so good - there’s no question that he wants this, needs this - and he wastes no time unzipping his pants and reaching in to free his dick. He doesn’t need to fantasize much, not when you’re mere feet away, instead making sure he sears every detail of your sleeping form into his mind: your fluttering eyelashes, your shallow breaths, the soft glow of your skin in the moonlight.

Issei quickens his pace, stroking up and down the shaft of his cock with purpose, thumb flicking over the slit. His breath huffs against the glass, clouding the surface until it’s dripping with condensation, but he still sees you as clear as day in his mind even as the real image of you blurs. You’re blissed out and relaxed, shoulders free of tension, your lips curving slightly into a smile.

He closes his eyes, rolling his head back as he works his cock, every single brush of his fingers leaving him twitching with sensitivity. You look like an angel, picture-perfect and frozen in time and consciousness, as if you were a framed picture or a museum exhibit preserved just for Issei to admire. Just for Issei. He lets out a quiet groan at the thought as he cums, his hips stuttering and cock jerking up.

You turn over fitfully in your sleep.

Looking down at the cum dripping off his fingers, he wants nothing more than to crawl in through your window and wipe it on your face. It’s an unmistakable mark of ownership, a sign that you belong to him alone, but he hesitates. He’s a bit of a shy guy, you see.

He can wait.

-

March 14th, 2013

[10:01 pm]

He has to conceal himself a bit better tonight than he would on his normal visits. This time, he’s a bit early, and you’re still awake.

His back is up against the siding of your house, right beside your window, but he can still see you in the periphery of his vision. You’re sitting at your desk, bathed in the warm light of your desk lamp, hunched over some math worksheet and scribbling furiously with the pencil in your hand.

Forget the moon; you glow even prettier as the world around you fades to dark.

Just like every other night, he takes in every detail meticulously. Your hair is messier than it was the previous day - maybe you hadn’t washed it in a while? He doesn’t mind, because it’s endearing when you’re messy and imperfect, barefaced in your pajamas, a little rough around the edges.

He thinks it’s similar to the way you’d look after being fucked stupid, if he closed his eyes and tried to picture you being ruined.

Issei tries very hard to ignore the way his cock strains in his pants at the thought.

-

March 23, 2013

[11:30 pm]

The mild spring breeze carries the sweet scent of fresh blossoms and green grass, leaving behind the wintry chill that he had to shiver through each night to be at your side - well, as close by your side as he could get.

These little visits have become a part of his life now, as ingrained as waking up in the morning or eating three times a day. It’s comforting for him to watch you from his spot outside your window each night, admiring you as you go about your nighttime routine, puttering from your desk to your bathroom to your bedroom.

He’s started to take some pictures, maybe even a shaky, pixelated video or two, just to tide him over when he’s alone by himself. They’re no replacement for the real thing, obviously, but it’s enough for him to be able to carry around a reminder of the way you look and sound all the time, even if it’s just a shadow of what you’re like in person. He’ll scroll through his camera roll, fingers trembling with excitement, hissing as he brings his hand down to stroke at his cock.

It’s always better in person, though. He sees you more clearly, hears the sound of your voice muffled through the walls, and most of all, he’s closer to you.

Issei likes to make it last, likes to prolong the pleasure as much as possible, so he always starts off with slow, gentle, pumps, gliding up and down his cock with his index finger and thumb curled into a circle. It’s honestly a miracle how you haven’t noticed yet, because he always tends to lose himself after he starts.

Face pressed close against the window in order to get the best view possible, his warm huffs of breath cloud up the cold glass as he strokes himself faster. His eyes rolling back into his head, his two digits of measured stimulation give way quickly to full, hard, pumps of his cock until soft moans start to spill from his mouth.

It’s hard to resist when you’re right there.

Tonight, you’re sprawled out on your bed, phone held above your face as you chat with your friend on video call. You’re shaking with laughter at some silly joke your friend’s telling, head thrown back and chin tilted upwards, face shining with joy, and he suddenly feels a warm, warm feeling of arousal course through him.

Seeing you happy turns him on, makes his cock so hard even though he just came minutes prior.

The sound of your voice carries through the walls, carefree and bright, chattering on and on about some assignment - or maybe it’s a complaint about the teacher, he’s not too sure - and he smiles contentedly at your silly little worries. Too cute, really.

You suddenly cough.

It’s an ugly sound, dry and strangled, and he cringes at the way your body tenses up and shakes. The coughing fit feels far longer than it actually is; every second of your hacking and wheezing is compounded by the panic gripping him. He watches, helpless, as your face turns ashen and grey, his heart seizing with dread and pounding in his chest.

It’s over as quickly as it begins.

You smile weakly, brushing it off as you apologize to your friend, but he can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles at the pit of his stomach. He tugs up his pants, bare thighs and dick feeling awfully exposed in the night wind, and scurries back home. Maybe another night, then.

-

April 1st, 2013

[12:09 am]

You’re not in your room today.

Issei leans his head against the cold glass of your windowpane, hands shoved into his jacket, his mind clouding at the edges and overrun with possibilities. He doesn’t recall seeing you making plans with friends the previous night, and there’s not much you could be really doing right now - you have no boyfriend, no plans that he knows of, no real reason to just be gone.

He’s always thought of himself as a calm person. He doesn’t fall victim to temporary urges and flights of emotion the same way that Oikawa or Iwaizumi might, doesn’t do anything reckless on whims he knows will disappear just hours later.

But there’s just something about you that always makes him lose himself, isn’t there?

The window is fogged up with condensation, obscuring his view inside your room. He reaches out the sleeve of his jacket, wiping away the dew clinging to the surface, and squints as he tries to make out the scene in the dim lighting.

On the floor, awash in a pool of moonlight, lies a yellow flower petal spattered with blood.

-

April 4th, 2013

[4:46 am]

Issei’s not stupid.

He knows what the flower petal means, knows what your sickness means. He’s read about it in books, heard the tales from his parents friends, the whispered legends and hushed myths that make one thing clear:

You belong to someone else.

It’s a thought that fills him with revulsion. You already have Issei; is he not enough for you? Are you such a whore that his devotion falls short of what you’re so clearly greedy for?

He’s stopped restricting himself to just his nightly visits. They’re not enough, not when he can’t seem to go five minutes without his thoughts inevitably drifting to you - you in your fluttery, sheer nightgown, lying in your bed, your frame growing sicker and frailer as the blood drains from your cheeks and your coughing fits grow more frequent.

You can hide it from the prying eyes of your friends at school, from your teachers, even from your parents(as long as you make sure to roll your eyes a few times and lean into that murky, illusory persona of teenage angst), but here in your bedroom, your sanctuary, all your vulnerabilities crawl out and bubble to the surface, bared to your four off-white walls and his eyes only.

You can’t hide this from Issei; not the symptoms, and certainly not the disease.

He sets his alarm every day early enough to hear the nighttime croaking of frogs, the shrill, insistent chirping of cicadas, hours before the sky bleeds daylight, making his way over to your house. He stands outside, silent, his fingers pressed up against the window.

He doesn’t know why he goes anymore. You look ugly when you’re sick. Your healthy complexion has given way to grey, and his dick goes limp every time he tries to jerk himself off. It’s a reminder of the fact that he can’t ever have you the way he used to dream about: lively, healthy, and wholly devoted to him and him alone.

At this point, the pictures and videos of you are the only thing he has left, a pitiful reminder of everything you used to be. He has no use for those other girls from porn sites online, or even the scantily clad social media posts of his classmates. Issei only wants you, but you aren’t quite who you used to be, and every time he trudges home after staring through that stupid window, there’s always a bitter aftertaste in his mouth that makes his blood curdle.

It’s not that he’s jealous, exactly. He doesn’t really give a fuck who you’re pining after, because it’s you he cares about. He wants to own you, to possess your body, mind, and soul, wants you to end up at his side one day, acknowledging him with tears brimming in your lovely eyes, voice raw and hoarse as you chant thank you Issei, thank you, thank you for watching over me, Issei, i’m yours, Issei, i love you, Issei

Maybe it’s no wonder he can’t stop thinking about you.

-

April 19th, 2013

[11:52 pm]

He finds you passed out on the floor, surrounded by crumpled piles of faded carnation petals. They’re a sickly yellow, browning at the edges, tinged with blood and vomit and spit. It’s a scene straight out of a movie, illuminated by the waning moon, the cold, pale, uneven light casting shadows that dance across your body.

-

April 24th, 2013

[2:03 am]

Issei is nothing if not a practical man. If there’s a problem, he’s going to fix it.

He’s had enough of waiting, anyway.

-

April 25th, 2013

[12:00 am]

He’s never actually been inside your room before. It’s eerily quiet, save for your shallow, rapid breaths, all outside noises absorbed by the walls and curtains. It almost feels like he’s dreaming as he makes his way over to your bedside, his shadow stretching and bending in the distorted light like those funhouse mirror reflections.

Your lips are parted slightly, mouth agape as if in waiting, and he can’t help but run a finger along your cracked, ashen lips.

Issei shivers.

He’s never been quite so close to you before. It’s almost anticlimactic, the way he ends up at your side. He won’t lie; he had been hoping for a different ending, one with more sunshine and roses, one where you’d be smiling happily by his side as he tenderly holds your hand.

But he can’t change the way things are, and he’s more than willing to make the best of what he’s got.

He doesn’t have any surgical tools that might’ve been more fitting, but he supposes a kitchen knife - one he’d sharpened just yesterday - should work well enough. He runs a finger along the back of the gleaming metal, admiring the way it glints, brilliant and blinding, even in the midst of the dim room.

The old, worn, bed creaks beneath him as he climbs carefully on top of you, straddling your torso, taking care not to place too much pressure on your body. He reaches out to caress your face, brushing a loose strand of hair aside as he appraises you. In sickness, you were nowhere near as beautiful as you were before, but your proximity almost makes up for it; Issei can feel your heart thrumming beneath your skin, can feel the huff of your breath on his hand as your chest rises and falls.

He almost regrets having to do this.

Bringing the blade up to your chest, he begins to cut through your paper-thin nightgown. As the fabric rips, it falls to either side to reveal your chest, and his breath catches. The soft curve of your tits are stained with red, little green buds of growth peeking out from your chest and between your ribs. Blood blooms across your skin, thorns and stems pricking out from the smooth surface of your skin, standing out in stark relief as the sick, twisted, unnatural growth threatens to burst out of your body.

He flutters his fingers along your delicate skin, trailing gentle touches down your stomach, completely absorbed in the way you look and feel.

So absorbed, in fact, that he almost doesn’t notice the way you tense, eyes blinking awake, as pain lances through your body.

Issei’s quick, though - far quicker than you, at least, and by the time you open your mouth to scream, fear catching in your throat, he shoves a large hand over your mouth to muffle any of the unpleasant noises that threaten to spill out.

“Shh,” he whispers, voice hoarse and foreign in his own chest. He’s not used to speaking to you. “If you don’t hold still, it’s going to hurt even more.”

You freeze in terror at the implications of his words, eyes catching on the blade pointed at your chest. There’s a sudden urge to lash out, to fight back - but it quickly passes. You’re not stupid.

You know that he’s far stronger than you, far faster, and as his calm, remorseless gaze latches onto your body, you realize very quickly that any resistance would be futile.

He begins his work as soon as he feels you go limp beneath him. You’re still trembling slightly, shivering from both the fear and the cold, completely exposed, completely at his mercy. You’re still not sure who he is; maybe you’ve caught a glimpse or two of him in your classes in the past, but for the most part, he’s still a complete stranger.

Issei, on the other hand, knows you very well.

As the knife slips beneath your soft flesh, your bed quickly turns into a sea of scarlet, of vermilion and ruby, of wine-red blood that grows from a trickle to a stream to a rushing, spurting mess that stains your sheets and spills onto the floor. He can feel the spatters of your blood on his face, his clothes, can see the periphery of his vision growing red as the blank, white walls turn crimson.

He finds it’s a bit difficult to hold himself back.

Cutting you up feels like catharsis to him. He’s never seen you quite like this before, but he thinks this version of you looks very pretty, your eyes rolling back into your head, your chest shaking uncontrollably as he rips his knife through your flesh over and over again. A small, barely audible whimper slips from your lips, and he feels a shuddering mix of pleasure and revulsion wash over him.

The stark white of your bone peeks through the ripped, bloody mess. Perhaps he’s finally gone far enough.

There’s no slit or hole for him to find - he wasn’t quite so careful - but he reaches a hand in to dig around at what used to be your stomach, and begins to pull out the flowers from the roots. They’ve spread to your lungs, climbed almost all the way up your throat, the green stems and yellow flowers twisting and threading between your organs and ribs. He removes them one by one, meticulous and careful, tossing them aside as he searches and prods and kills every last trace of your disease.

The lungs are by far the hardest for him, the branches of tissue packed densely with blood vessels and capillaries, and he has to pry the clusters apart to remove the growth that’s embedded itself within the organ.

If you think about it, he’s really doing you a favor.

A wave of relief courses through him when he’s finally finished. It’s unfortunate that it had to end this way, with your face screwed permanently into that pained, tortured expression, but it’s nothing he can’t fix - he brings a bloody finger up and adjusts your features until they resemble something slightly more pleasant.

There’s no heartbeat anymore, he realizes, no rhythm thrumming and pulsing beneath your skin.

He climbs off of you awkwardly, swinging his legs back over the bed. The quilt, pooled around your ankles, is still remarkably clean considering what the rest of the room had been through, and he pulls the soft, white cover over your mangled body until it comes up to your chin.

If he moves backwards a little and squints, it’s almost like you’re still asleep.

And if he tries really hard, uses his imagination to fill in the gaps and blot out the unnecessary bits, the blood smeared on your cheeks and lips almost seems like makeup, covering up that ugly, ashen complexion from your sickness, like a rosy imitation of what he used to find so beautiful.

Maybe it’s all in his mind, but he thinks you really do look better dead than sick.

He knows it’s not right.

He knows he shouldn’t.

He also can’t quite bring himself to care.

Cursing softly under his breath, he hand wanders until it finds the growing outline of the bulge in his pants. It feels so good to do it right in front of you, especially when you look better than he’d seen you in weeks(as long as he sort of squints), and he shudders with pleasure as he palms his cock slowly.

He usually likes to hold back a little, but there’s really no point this time - it’s the last time he’ll ever be this close to you, so he might as well make the best of it, right?

His cock is rock hard and dripping with precum by now, straining with arousal against the pressure of his fist, gliding and stroking along his curved, thick length until he begins to feel that warm heat coiling in his stomach. He kind of wishes that you were still alive to see him jerking off to your perfect face, pumping his cock desperately as he fixates on the fake blush of your skin. It’s almost exactly how you look before you fell sick - minus the gore splattered on your sheets, of course - as long as he pretends that you’re still breathing, that your pulse is still thrumming steadily beneath those soft, white quilts.

He fists his cock a bit faster, rhythm increasing as he feels his balls growing heavier, his dick flushed and desperate for release. Although he’s sad that you’d never be able to fully participate, he supposes it’s for the best.

Better dead than hung up on someone else, right?

As he turns his gaze back onto the flowers he’d ripped out from your chest cavity, he feels a perverse burst of pleasure coursing through him. He can’t help but feel proud of the way he’s made everything right, how he’d gotten rid of that annoying little crush you’d been harboring for weeks. If he closes his eyes, he can almost see the way you’re thanking him from the afterlife, tears of gratitude and joy in your eyes at the freedom he’s finally given you.

Issei finishes with a low, pleasured, groan, his cum spilling into his waiting hand as he strokes himself through his orgasm. It’s one of the strongest orgasms he’s had in quite some time, and he can’t help but think it’s the commemoration you deserve.

As the blood rushing in his eardrums slows, the hazy, uncertain world around him seems to stop spinning, and he feels himself being pulled back down from his high. If he strains his senses, he can hear the nighttime din through your walls, quiet and ever-present. He looks outside, the streetlamps flickering dimly, staring off into the inky stillness of the star-lit night.

Funny that he’s finally on the other side of your window.

Maybe he should leave you one last present.

-

April 26th, 2013

[9:00 am]

When they find you in your bed the next morning, your mother screams and your father cries.

They never saw it coming, did they? You were a good girl, someone who always did what they were supposed to do, said what others told them to say, acted exactly how they expected you to. Never got yourself into the slightest hint of trouble.

It’s a horrific scene: their precious daughter, limbs mangled and organs torn up, stomach and chest cut wide open as if straight from a horror movie. The room seems to swirl with hostility, and the four walls, once your sanctuary, had turned into an image of brutal, bloody, violence - with your body as the centerpiece.

It’s not until they step closer that they realize the dried, white, glaze on your face is cum.

[bastillewolf]

Kinda Sketchy (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Request: “Can you do a part two of kinda sketchy where they slowly fall in love?”

Notes: Sorry this took me so long, but I had zero inspiration as the request left a lot of questions hahaha. Still fun to write, I hope you like it!

Tag list closed.

Chapter II

You’d fallen into a routine for a while. You’d do groceries, he’d do the dishes. You switched cooking, though it was also fine if neither of you felt like it, which is when you’d just order takeout or eat leftovers. But what seemed like the normal thing for two roommates to do on a spoken terms of agreement, it actually appeared you did those things for each other because you wanted to. You’d find some left over dishes in his room which you’d clean, and the next morning you’d find the forgotten tea on your nightstand already back in the cupboard. If you fell asleep working, reading, or watching something on TV, you’d somehow always end up in your bed even though you couldn’t remember getting up to get there yourself.

It had grown into this wonderful friendship between two people who had found it convenient to live together. You knew he could just as well live on his own now, knowing how big his YouTube channel had gotten within the time you’d first seen it up until now- in only a few months, at that. You’d asked him about it, but he’d simply brushed it off, saying it was easier for him this way. He wasn’t sure if he would ever do a face reveal, and having you go outside so he didn’t have to was a great bonus to the shared rent and company. It had hurt you slightly to hear him talk about it so plainly when you had already realized you were starting to feel more for him than you were supposed to.

It had started gradually, to be honest. You hadn’t noticed it at first. You simply took for granted all the times he jokingly bumped his shoulder into yours, or when he hugged you tight when he saw you needed it, or when he even kissed you on the cheek while having a debate with you on what a ‘chef’s kiss’ meant when you’d cooked a – if you may say so yourself – sublime meal.

But now, you had to miss all of those things. It seemed, when you agreed to his basic explanation of how easy it was for him with you living here in order to hide your disappointment, he’d seen it as a sign to stop doing all of those things for granted.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, please. But it’s just easier. I’ve gotten recognized before in a drive-through and I don’t want to go through that ever again,” he said.

You shook your head, even though your heart was plummeting down a set of stairs. “No, I completely get it. We’re roommates and it’s what we agreed upon. That’s it.”

“That’s it,” he repeated.

And that was it. The cups of leftover tea on your nightstand had started to form a fort, and you suddenly found yourself waking up on the couch in the middle of the night, feeling cold and grouchy as you realized you had to walk back to your bed. If you did sleep there until morning, you’d wake up from the sound of the coffee machine with a mumbled ‘sorry’ from your roommate, but other than that, he never said anything about it.

You’d wondered if he was angry with you. You’d even made a peace offering by cleaning up the mess in his room. Even that he didn’t mention.

So, one night while you were waiting on him at the table to show up for dinner, he didn’t come. He wasn’t in the apartment, he hadn’t texted you, he hadn’t left a note. He was nowhere to be found. Of course, you’d think something happened to him. You called Sykkuno first, and luckily you’d chosen exactly the right person.

“Oh, yeah! We’re playing Mario Kart, and he’s staying over. I thought he’d told you?” he said.

“Eh, no, he didn’t,” you replied, rubbing your eyes. “It’s fine. You guys have fun.”

“Thanks! You should come next time too, if you’re not too busy. Corpse told me how much work keeps you up.”

“He did?” you ask, sounding as monotone as could be.

“Yeah, but I think it’s just because he doesn’t want you to meet us yet. We kinda make a crazy first impression on everyone, and I’m pretty sure he wants us to be on our best behaviour when you come over… He- He does talk about you, a lot.”

“He… what?”

“Rae started teasing him about it, but then he brushed it off saying he’d never cheat on me, which is kind of weird considering we aren’t-“

“What did he say about me?” For a moment you felt guilty cutting him off, but your curiosity and heart got the better of you and Thomas didn’t really seem to mind.

“Oh, you know, how you’ve been taking care of him more than he’s ever taken care of himself. I thought it was kind of sad, but he talked about it pretty fondly. Rae caught a hint of that and started asking very personal questions, like what’s going on between the two of you, and then he stopped. I think he just doesn’t want to throw things out there, you know? I think he- Oh, here he is now! Do you want to me to hand you over?”

“No. Thanks, Thomas.” You’d quickly ended the call, but it seemed to late when you’d still heard him ask with that raspy voice of his, “Who are you talking to?”.

So, you ended up eating your dinner alone. He didn’t come home until after midnight, when you were still sitting at the same table, this time with your laptop in front of you doing some last bits of work so you wouldn’t end up falling asleep on the couch again.

You didn’t even turn around when you heard him walk in. He seemed to even hesitate for a moment, judging by his footsteps, before he said ‘hey’. You muttered it back, pretending to be engrossed in your work.

He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, before leaning back against the counter, his face turned to you. “You know, maybe you should just work in bed. I highly doubt falling asleep with your face smashed against the keyboard is very comfortable.”

You suddenly stopped typing, leaned your elbows against the table and linked your fingers together, looking him dead in the eye. “Maybe I want to feel the pain in my back as a punishment knowing I fell asleep like this again.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed.

You let a silence linger just a bit longer, before you continued typing and said, “You could’ve told me where you were.”

He was probably staring at you, but you still pointedly ignored him. “I didn’t know that was in our arrangement.”

“Well, I didn’t know our arrangement was that unpersonal to you. Seems like all I am is someone who just gets your groceries for you.” It was a low blow. But you just needed to make him feel the stabbing, the way he stabbed you.

“Jesus, I told you not to take that personally. That’s not what I meant at all,” he said.

“I didn’t take it personally until you thought that conversation was enough to start ignoring me,” you lied.

“I think you know just as well as I do why I’m keeping my distance.”

You met his eyes. Nothing you could see in there, besides the frustration, gave you any answers. You couldn’t help it, you were glaring back at him just as hard even though all you could feel right now was confusion. He shook his head and sighed.

“Maybe it’s time this agreement ends.”

The thought had crossed both your minds, but he was the one who had said it out loud. And probably stung harder for you than it would have for him if you’d cut the cord. He left you sitting there, with tears now blurring your vision, slamming the door behind him for good measure.

***

He wasn’t home again. It gave you the perfect opportunity to quickly pack the rest of your shit up and leave, quietly. A cowardly move, perhaps, but you knew you didn’t have it in you to face him for this. You still hadn’t found a new place yet, since everything in Cali was way too fucking expensive and most ads looking for a roommate even sketchier than the one from Corpse you’d replied to. One of your friends had come to your aid, however, so you had at least a temporary place to say without having to suffer in this tension any longer.

You were just shoving the last of your books in a cardboard box when your phone rang. It was Thomas.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Uh… well, I was wondering if you could tell us that…” Sykkuno hesitantly asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh- give me the phone-“ “Hey!” there was an evident struggle, before Rae was suddenly talking to you, clearly having ripped the device from Thomas’ hands.

“Corpse is acting all weird! We know something happened between the two of you, but he doesn’t wanna talk about it! It’s like he’s gone back to his brooding old self and I’m worried! So you better start talking!”

“Unless it wasn’t your fault-“ you heard Thomas call out. He was quickly shushed by Rae.

“There’s nothing to say. He made it very clear that our living arrangement was just that; an arrangement, and he stopped talking to me. I confronted him about it, he started saying vague shit and asked me to move out.”

“Wait, what did he say?! I need specifics!” “Rae talks Corpse language, apparently,” you heard Toast mumble in the background.

“He said ‘I think you know just as well as I do why I’m keeping my distance’,” you imitated, your voice not nearly going as low as his.

“Wait, what?”

“I think he just figured out I have feelings for him. I understand how he wouldn’t want to be friends anymore.”

“Oh my god, you’re both such idio-!“

The call ended before you could hear the rest of Rae’s frustration. You shrugged it off, understanding why she would be mad at you by upsetting Corpse. He was her friend first and foremost, after all.

You stuffed your clothes in garbage bags, tied them up and pushed all of it into the living room. You’d dusted, vacuumed, and taken the bedsheets off. While balling all of the laundry up in your arms, you heard the door open. You immediately froze.

Footsteps were coming closer. Maybe if you didn’t move he would think you weren’t here. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to see that he didn’t care. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands were wringing the fabric of the bedsheets. God, you should’ve packed quicker. You shouldn’t have been so organized, you should’ve just shoved everything in a few boxes altogether and made a break for it. You should’ve.

He was at your door opening. The footsteps had stopped. You still had your back turned to him.

Just keep walking. Please, just keep walking, you pleaded, closing your eyes. Waiting for the final blow.

However, it didn’t seem to land. Not anywhere near you, at least.

You simply heard his breathing, which seemed more erratic than usual, but perhaps you were just imagining things. Please, just keep walking. Please, I can’t-

“Please don’t go,” he rasped.

Your brows furrowed. If anything, your eyes squeezed shut even tighter. He had to be joking with you.

But then he said your name, pleadingly. He stepped behind you, and you could feel his warm breath against your neck. “Please don’t go. I don’t want you to go.”

“I think you do,” you tried to convince him, as well as yourself.

His hands found his way around your waist and across your stomach until his chest was flush against your back. “No, I don’t.”

Your hands felt numb, so numb you barely noticed them dropping the bedsheets. He turned you around slowly, and you opened your eyes.

“I… heard what you said to Rae.”

“Oh.”

You watched as he leaned in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You didn’t stop him- of course you didn’t want him to. His lips pressed against yours gently, in a question, which you responded to. It was still laced with a certain hesitance, but not one strong enough to make either of you want to pull back. It was tingly, warm, and comfortable as the stress of the past few days came washing over you.

He smiled shyly as he pulled back. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew about how I felt.”

“I’m sorry too. I think we need to set up some things in our agreement about communication.”

“Please, no more fucking agreements. I think Rae would definitely kill us.” You both laughed.

TAG LIST CLOSED!

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[dreamescapeswriting]

Under Pressure ~ HJS [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2.2K

GENRE:  Stressed reader, angst with a fluffy ending, establish-relationship, Sweet boyfriend Jisung

PAIRING: Jisung x Fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy this sweetie! @crispy-chan

The moment Jisung walked into the cafe he knew there was something wrong with you, normally you would rush over to him with a smile across your face ready to greet him and get him sat down but today you were nowhere to be seen. You worked in a small cafe just around the corner from the JYP building so whenever Jisung had a break or some free time he would dress up in a cap, glasses and mask to come and meet you, it had been that way since the start of your relationship. It wasn't often that you got to spend time alone together so you took every opportunity you could to get together.

"Take a seat, I'll be with you in just a moment," A new worker said as he took Jisung over to a booth, Jisung kept glancing around the cafe. It wasn't that large so there weren't that many places that you could have been hiding from him, you couldn't have been on your break since it was a rush time in the cafe. The time was busiest since everyone wanted to have something to eat before heading to their offices for the rest of the afternoon.

"If you're looking for Y/n, she's in the back." The manager said as she caught Jisung looking around, of course, she knew who he was since he came into the cafe frequently enough. 

"Go back and see her, she looks tired though." Jisung knew you'd been a little more stressed than usual lately because you had assignments and exam's coming up but you were smart there was nothing you couldn't handle. 

"Thanks," He mumbled heading through the kitchen door and towards the small office you were cramped inside of with books surrounding you.

"This is where they keep the princess?" He chuckled sitting down beside you on one of the chairs and staring at the books that were in front of you. You must have been so lost in the words as you hadn't even noticed someone sitting next to you until Jisung touched your cheek. 

"Shit!" You screamed out jumping back on the seat and looking at him, your eyes were wide with fear and Jisung laughed softly. 

"You didn't hear me?" You shook your head, greeting him with a quick peck on the cheek before looking back down at your book. There were five exam's you were crunching for this week and not one of them was going to leave you enough time to also finish four assessments that you had to write up. Everything felt as though it was piling up on top of you, Jisung reached his hand out and touched yours instantly making you feel calmer with the smallest of touches. 

"Relax, you're ready for these exams." He whispered encouragingly to you as he began to rub your knuckles softly, he knew how hard you were on yourself about things but he didn't want you to start beating yourself up over anything.

"When was the last time you got some sleep? I mean real sleep, not what you and Chan call sleep," He mumbled as he watched you, your eyes had bags underneath them so he knew you hadn't slept well for days. 

"I slept last night," You lied. He knew you were lying since you wouldn't look at him and you scratched the base of your neck it was your give-away sign. 

"Want me to come around tomorrow? I'll cook us something to eat and we can study together...I'll ask you questions," You smiled at the thought of him helping you study despite having no idea what you had to do for those exams. 

"That would be great...But can you get-" He kissed your lips to stop you from asking if he could get the time off, if it was for you he would do anything in his power.

"Consider me already there, no go home and get some real sleep." He begged you as he looked at you, cupping your face in his hands while he rubbed his thumb under your eyes. You snuggled into his touch enjoying the feeling of his skin on yours, 

"I have another shift, I only had a two-hour break to cram some studying into. I'll go home after," You promised as he got up from the chair to walk him out, Jisung knew from the wording of your sentence that you would go home but that didn't mean you would rest.

"Just promise me you'll get rest," You nodded at him, quickly kissing him before heading over to the till to help your manager take orders and serve the customers that were inside. 

Jisung sighed to himself as he watched you plaster on a fake energetic smile for people and he headed out of the cafe wondering what he was going to have to do to get you to sleep.

The next day Jisung had text you non-stop to find out what you wanted him to cook and what time you wanted him to come around to the apartment but there had been no responses from you for the last four hours. 

"Maybe she's asleep or doing some studying," Chan tried to calm down Jisung's racing thoughts but he'd been worried about you since leaving the cafe yesterday. After seeing the state you were in he couldn't help but be filled with worry that you were going to end up crashing or passing out from exhaustion. 

"Babe, I got the ingredients for your favourite meal and Felix made brownies for us to share," Jisung announced as he unlocked the door to your apartment with his spare key but there was no response. He knew you were home because your favourite pair of shoes were by the door and your lights were all on, 

"Babe?" He called out, taking off his shoes and heading into the kitchen where he saw a cold pot of tea sitting on the side with some tablets that were open. Paracetamol and ibuprofen were sitting there with a half-drunken glass of water, he hated the thought of you having a headache as much as he hated the fact that you were staying awake so much.

"Y/N?" He whispered as he walked further into the apartment in case you were asleep somewhere you shouldn't have been and that was when he saw you. Fast asleep with your head laying on top of your textbooks, highlight in hand as you snored softly. He sighed to himself as he walked over to you, you were out cold.

"What am I going to do with you?" He chuckled to himself as he got closer to you, spotting that you had a sticky note pressed against your face and a bright coloured highlighter marker on your cheek. 

"Cute," He whispered making sure to snap a photo of the moment before he attempted to move you to your bedroom.

"Here we go," He grunted as he laid you down in the bed, carefully taking off your jeans so you wouldn't have to sleep in the horrible fabric, he pulled the sheets over your body before leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

"Sleep well beautiful," He said before leaving the room to go and clean up your apartment. It was the least he could since it was in such a mess, you must not have had much time to clean between, work and studying and he didn't blame you. Beginning in the dining room where he had found you he started by collecting your notes together, sliding everything into the correct books before leaving to go and clean up the kitchen. 

Waking up to the smell of cooking you sat up in bed, holding your head as the headache still hadn't left yet.

"Fuck," You whispered to yourself as you kicked yourself out from the bed only to remember the last thing you had been doing was waiting for your tutor to call you on the laptop at the kitchen table and now you were in bed with no pants on.

"Shit!" You yelled out running into the hallway and into the kitchen to see Jisung standing over the over stirring something in a large pot, he jumped when he heard you running to your laptop that was now shut down and everything was cleared away. 

"Where are my notes?! Did my tutor call?! Why are you here?!" Your voice was hoarse as you panicked at Jisung but this only filled him with more worry as he thought you were getting sick. 

"I came in and you were asleep so I cleaned up for you, I figured it was no big deal-"

"No big deal?! Jisung I had a fucking meeting to be at! Did you not think about that when you moved me?!" You snapped as you began trying to load your laptop up as fast as you could,

 "No, I was too busy worrying my girlfriend had overworked himself," He answered snarkily as he poured some soup into a bowl and brought it over to the table for you but you didn't even thank him or glance away from your laptop. 

"Great! Just fucking great I missed my meeting and now I'm going to be behind on the studying!" As you yelled out in frustration you went to pull your legs into your chest, knocking the table ultimately knocking the soup over and spilling it over your books. 

"Fuck sake Jisung!" You screamed picking up the books and trying to clean them before the hot liquid ruined the notes and books that you desperately needed. 

"Y/n, calm down." Jisung tried to take the books from you to help but you let tears roll down your face as you saw everything that was inside was ruined, notes smudged over that was unreadable, pages were sticking together. Everything you had been working so hard on was gone within seconds. 

"This is your fault! Why should I calm down?! Why are you even here!?" You snapped once again, throwing the books down onto the table as you cried to yourself. The stress of your exams, working and your lack of sleep all finally hitting you at once as you broke down into a pool of tears, Jisung let out a breath as he saw you. He knew you weren't mad at him so he wasn't going to get upset over you yelling at him, 

"For this exact reason, you're too stressed...You haven't been sleeping Y/n...I came by to help," You shook your head as you stared at the ruined notes, 

"Everything is gone, I'm going to fail my exams." You whimpered as Jisung pulled you into his embrace and kissed the top of your head trying to remind you that it was going to be fine but you kept shaking your head and telling him that everything was gone. 

"You're so smart Y/n, you already know everything that was going to be in the exam." He whispered, kissing the top of your head as he tried to get you to calm down but nothing was going to work. The tiredness you were experiencing with the small cold you were getting was making you overreact to everything and right now it was the end of the world as you knew it.

"You don't get it because you never had to do this! Not all of us can just get out of school and just go on to be famous!" You snapped at him, trying to push him away as you sobbed into your hands but he wasn't going to let you go that easily.

When you woke up again you were curled up against Jisung in your bed, his arms were wrapped around you tightly as he snored and you whined feeling sweaty from being so close to him.

"You're finally awake?" You stared at Jisung confused as he questioned you, 

"What do you mean finally?" He sat you both up as he looked at you sighing, 

"You passed out after eating dinner with me and it's been a day since. You've been in and out of sleep since, waking up to pee and drink water." He looked at you with sad eyes, reaching up to feel how hot your skin was and smiling to himself as he realised you weren't as hot as you were the day before. 

"Your temperature's gone down so that's good." You looked at him with a frown and he kissed your forehead softly, 

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," You mumbled as you remember everything that had happened the day before, yelling at him for something you had done. 

"Don't worry about it. Your tutor called and I explained that you were sick, he's extending your assessments and allowing you to retake the exams when you're better." A wave of relief washed over you as you looked at Jisung, no idea how you were ever going to thank him for what he did. 

"I'll never stop thanking you," You snuggled into him, kissing his shoulder as he shook his head at you. 

"Just make sure you get enough rest, that's the only thanks I need." He told you as he held you closer to him.

Tagline: @taestannie​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @acciocriativity​ @sw33tnight​ @that-anxious-bisexual​

[bunnysuit-femboy]

The Worst Wingman - Dust and a Goddess

(Chapter 1 / 3)

Jean x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: mentions of homophobia

Summary:  Jean knew you better than anybody else, so why was he so good at picking the worst people on the planet for you to go on dates with. You were persistent to find a boyfriend this year and you thought Jean could help you find the perfect man, but apparently he loves to watch you suffer. If only you knew the perfect man for you was the one setting you up on all of these dates.

Notes: I posted this on my Ao3 first, but I thought I’d post it here too. So, please enjoy!

First Saturday

Another Saturday night meant another shitty date with another uninteresting and weird guy. You knew Jean hand-picked these dates that he sent you off with, but it seemed he didn’t know you or them at all. Every single date was just another bust, undeniably and irrefutably.

And, this date was just another on the already long list of bad dates.

“So,” Your date said with a smile, “You’re good friends with him, aren’t you?”

You nodded with the wine glass close to your lips. He had asked you the same question nearly fifteen times in the last fifteen minutes. It was as if he couldn’t believe it himself. As if he were surprised, or maybe even a little bit jealous.

“Yeah,” You said with a fake smile, “We’re in the same friend group. I met him freshman year, when I became close friends with Mikasa and she introduced us-”

“How is he?”

“Huh?”

The redhead smiled wide, “How is Eren? What’s he like as a friend?”

You raised your eyebrows and placed your glass back on the table, “Eren?”

The redhead nodded excitedly. He was nearly on the edge of his seat, leaning towards you like a child about to hear a war story from his grandfather. It was odd that the boy had gotten caught on the idea of Eren being friends with you when you had just explained how Jean was the one who set you up on the date.

“Eren is- um,” You looked around the small restaurant, trying to find inspiration for a way out of this conversation from the other diners, “He’s cool.”

The boy is physically upset about your discretion, “And?”

“And,” You involuntarily continued, “He’s- uh, he’s very nice. He-uh he helps me with my homework, and helps me study quite a bit.”

It was all a lie, but only partially. Sure, somebody in the friend group was really nice and helped you with homework and helped you study, but it wasn’t Eren. It was Armin who was the nice one, but you didn’t know Eren well enough not to switch the two names when talking with the boy in front of you.

“That’s awesome,” The redhead said with an admirational sigh, “I bet he’s super helpful. He’s definitely the type to not give up until you know everything, for sure.”

“Oh.” You grinned at your empty dinner plate. “For sure. He’s the best. He’s super dedicated, and he always makes the harder information easier for me to understand. He’ll word it in ways that he knows I’m more comfortable with.”

“I’ll have to join you two, sometime.”

You looked at the boy with furrowed eyebrows, “You want to join me and Eren while we study?”

Boy, is he going to be upset when he finds out Eren is actually an adorable blonde boy with big ocean eyes who’s not nearly as blatantly mean. Also, it’s a bit strange the redhead wants to go on a study date with you and somebody else. Isn’t he at this date for you? But, all he’s asked you about all night is Eren.

“Of course,” The boy said with a smile, “I would just love to see him again.”

You giggled lightly to yourself, “Do you want me to get his number for you?”

Though the comment was purely a joke, the boy didn’t flinch nor smile. He just stared at you with a look of defeat in his eyes and he almost looked angry. His eyes never left your face, his mind not finding an ounce of humor in your question.

His reaction caused your smile to quickly falter, “Do you actually have a crush on him?”

The redhead rose from his seat, “I have to use the bathroom.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Right now?”

“Yes,” The boy’s voice came out harsh, “Right now.”

“Oh, okay.” You watched as the boy walked off towards the bathroom. And, once he was out of earshot, you pulled your phone from your purse sitting on the back of the chair and phoned Jean.

The phone only rang once before the call was picked up. He spoke a half-assed greeting above the sound of yelling in the background. You knew he was with Connie and Sasha tonight and you knew they were playing video games from the noise coming from behind his voice.

“Don’t hey me,” You spat angrily through the phone, “This guy is insane, Jean, he’s fucking weird.”

Jean was now laughing, “How is he weird?”

“He keeps asking about Eren.” You took a quick peek at the male’s bathroom door. “He offered to go on a study date with me-”

“That’s nice of him.”

“-And Eren.”

“Oh,” Jean said, “That’s weird. Eren doesn’t even study with you, he’d have to be smarter than you to be of any help.”

“I may have lied to him.” You took a quick swig of wine from the glass and then turned back to the bathroom doors.

“Aw,” Jean said with a smirk, “Poor Floch.”

“Floch,” You said excitedly, nearly knocking the discarded fork from your plate, “That’s his name! I forgot it about two hours ago, but didn’t have the heart to ask him.”

Jean was uncontrollably laughing on the other side of the phone. It wasn’t like these types of calls were foriegn to him. You normally called Jean in the middle of a crisis, and most of your crises these days happened mid-date when the boy did something weird and left to go to the bathroom.

“You’re a horrible date,” Jean said between his giggles.

“It’s not a normal name.” You held the wine glass to your lips. “I wouldn’t have forgotten his name if it were Brian or Nick. It’s his mom’s fault I forgot his name.”

Jean smiled into the phone, “Now, you’re blaming his mom for your ignorance, how cruel.”

You couldn’t help but grin as well, “Also, I think he has a thing for Eren.”

“Really?” Jean takes a moment to remember something. “That actually makes a lot of sense. I met him through Eren because they were in the same chemistry class last semester. He seemed reluctant to go on the date with you until Eren told him he should, then he was all for it. I thought it was weird, but not weird enough to be concerning.”

“It’s not weird nor concerning,” You said sweetly, “He just has a crush and he doesn’t know how to deal with it, it’s endearing.”

“He’s actively homophobic.”

“What?” You peek at the bathrooms and notice nothing has changed. “You set me on a date with an active homophobe?”

Jean shrugged, “I didn’t think about it.”

You shook your head angrily, “After this date, I am coming straight to your apartment and I am giving you a piece of my mind, Jean Kirstein.”

“Oh no,” Jean said with a smile, “I’m really scared, she used my last name.”

“You should be really scared. I’m bringing my baseball bat and everything.”

You took another peek at the bathroom and then checked the timer on the call. Seven minutes and fourteen seconds was how long you had been on the phone with Jean and how long Floch had been in the bathroom. Sure, it could be reasonable, but you still got a weird feeling from the whole thing.

“‘You okay?” Jean asked endearingly once the silence between you two had settled.

“He’s coming back,” You lied, “I gotta’ go.”

“Okay, just-”

The call ended quickly with one press of your finger. You put your phone back in your purse and let the bag fall to the side of the chair. You looked around the beautiful restaurant and tapped your fingers impatiently against the clothed table.

You leaned to your side in order to get closer to the couple beside you. At the table sat two people: one with long brown hair and wide glasses dressed in a tux and the other with short dirty blonde hair also dressed in a tux.

“Hi,” You said to the brown haired person to your immediate right, “Could I ask a favor of either of you? It’ll only take a minute, I swear.”

The brown haired person smiled widely, “Of course!”

“My date, a redhead, went to the bathroom nearly twenty minutes ago, and I can’t go into the boy’s bathroom-”

“You want me to go?” The brown haired person’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I can go see if he’s still in there, or if he’s sick, or if he’s dead - God forbid, but how interesting, right?”

You nodded with a smile, “Yes, thank you, please. I’m sure he’s not dead, but I’m just worried.”

“Don’t worry until I come back with news.” The brown haired person stood up and left, heading towards the bathroom.

You watched the nice brown haired person go off towards the restrooms. You watched them weave around tables, even stopping now and then to peek over diners’ shoulders, looking at what they had decided to eat for the night. They were strange, but in an endearing way - something you weren’t entirely used to seeing on these dates.

“You know,” The blonde guy spoke up suddenly, snapping you back to reality, “They’ve done that a few times on our dates before, as well.”

“Hm?” You turned to the brown haired person’s date.

The blonde guy smiled, “My date, they get interested in something in the bathroom and don’t bother coming back out for half an hour. The first time is scary, but you’ll get used to their curious mind.”

You grinned weakly at the nice man, “Yeah, I have a feeling there won’t be anything to get used to because there won’t be another date.”

The blonde boy furrowed his eyebrows, “Oh?”

“He wasn’t the best date I’ve been on, nor the best person I’ve been on a date with.” You turned towards the bathroom in time to catch the blonde man’s date making their way back across the restaurant with a frown. “In fact, he’s the first date to ever crawl out of a bathroom window to get away from me.”

“I’m sure that’s not what happened,” The blonde man said with a worried glance at his date. You weren’t sure how you knew it, but you were entirely sure of the redhead’s escape.

“He’s gone, dear.” The brown haired person placed a gentle hand on your shoulder as they sat back in their seat. “The window was pried open, I assume he crawled out of it.”

You nodded with a fake smile, “Thank you, for checking. I can pay-”

You reached for your purse, but the brown haired person shook their head, “No, no. Don’t even try to pay me. In fact, let us pay for your meals, it’s the least we can do.”

You shook your head quickly, “No, I can pay for them, but thank you.”

“No, he left you high and dry and-”

“You’ve already done enough for me tonight.”

“-You don’t deserve to pay for a meal you didn’t even enjoy.”

While the brown haired person was distracting you with a back and forth battle of who would pay for what, the blonde man waved down a passing waiter. He mumbled something to the waiter, pointing at your table over his shoulder. The blonde man pushed a small plastic card into the waiter’s hand. The waiter nodded pityingly, running off quickly towards the hostess’s table at the entrance.

“No,” You said with another shake of your head, “You don’t have to pay for a taxi, I don’t need one-”

But, you did need one considering Floch was your ride here.

“No,” The brown haired person continued, “Let me pay for your wine. In fact, have our wine. It’s the least we can do.”

“No, I don’t need more wine-”

The waiter was back and the blonde man finally spoke up over the argument between you and his date. He held two slips of paper in his hand and looked at you both with a small smile.

“Hange,” He said to make his date stop debating with you, “It’s okay, she doesn’t need your insurance card. And, ma’am, don’t worry about the bill, it’s already been paid for, and you don’t owe me anything in return. I’ve been in your shoes before, and I wish somebody would have done this for me.”

“Sir,” You said quickly, “It’s really not that big of a deal-”

“Not anymore,” The blonde man said with a smile, “Next time you come to this restaurant, just bring somebody you trust. I promise, not everybody is as awful as that boy.”

You bit your lip to keep the newly created tears from falling. You couldn’t help the overload of emotions happening in your throat and eyes. You didn’t normally cry so easily in front of strangers, but these strangers were overly generous. And suddenly, you were remembering the last ten dates that all ended just as horribly. It seemed like nothing was working out in your favor anymore.

“Thank you,” You said with a large smile contradictory to the tears that now fell down your cheeks, “I-I don’t know where to find those not awful people, but I really hope I will someday.”

“Oh no!” Hange said as they quickly wrapped you in a tight hug. “Moblit, look, you broke her.”

Moblit giggled with a shake of his head, “I’m sorry I broke you, dear.”

You shook your head into Hange’s shoulder, accidentally wiping the tears on the shoulder of their black tux. You couldn’t express to Moblit how badly you wanted to find not awful people, and how badly you wanted a date that didn’t end horribly. It was just more complicated than that, and it seemed awful people were the only ones Jean could offer you dates with and the only ones he thought deserved dates with you. So, what did that say about how he viewed you as a person?

You spent a few minutes crying into Hange’s shoulder, mumbling incoherently about boys and school and your pot-smoking next door neighbors who are way too loud when they have sex. They listened to your tangent intently, nodding along, as if they could understand any of your words.

Once you had wiped the tears from your face and thanked the couple profusely some more, you made your way from the restaurant. You knew you could call a taxi to Jean’s apartment, but the weather was nice and his apartment wasn’t too far away. So, walking seemed like a convenient money-saving way of getting the whole date out of your mind.

You walked down the street of town, but once you got to campus, you slid the heels from your feet and into your hands. You walked across campus with your shoes balancing on your fingers like the morning after a horrible one-night stand.

Eventually you made it to Jean’s apartment building and found your way to his front door within a few minutes. You knocked on the wood with your heel and weren’t too surprised when the door opened almost immediately. Jean stood in the doorway, still shouting at the other two over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Jean said once he finally turned his attention to you, “How was the-” You swung the heel swiftly into his stomach, earning a surprised grunt from the boy.

“Don’t mention this date ever again.” You said the threatening words with a glint of anger to your voice, but your face was pressed into a sweet smile.

Jean nodded slowly, “Will you at least tell us what happened?”

You sighed, “Later, I’ll tell you, but I know Connie will bully me for it.”

Jean nodded some more, “Later?”

“The least you can do is let me stay the night.” You raised your eyebrows at the boy. “Since you made me go on the worst date of my life with a homophobic jerk.”

“Okay,” Jean said with a grin, “But only because you’re practically begging for me.”

You swung the heel into his stomach a second time, but he grabbed it before it could give any damage. You both looked intently at each other, your eyes glaring annoyedly and his eyes admiring the sight in front of him. This was exactly what you expected from him, this is exactly how he acts after these dates. He’s always the one to pick up and put back the broken pieces once the doll breaks, even if he’s the reason the doll fell in the first place.

Once you walked into the apartment, you left your shoes and purse by the door, right beside Jean’s shoes. You waved a quick hello to Connie and Sasha - who were too distracted shooting zombies to see you - as you walked past them in the living room and found your way straight to Jean’s room. You knew the apartment like the back of your hand, you had been here a million times.

You walked across the small room to your drawer that Jean keeps all of your clothes in for when you stay. You pulled it open and picked out a pair of cheetah print pajama shorts and an old t-shirt from an now irrelevant ex boyfriend. You threw the clothes on his bed, getting ready to change just when the door suddenly opened.

You turned to the door with tired eyes and furrowed eyebrows as Jean joined you in the room. He leaned against the now closed door, physically keeping the others from joining as well. He crossed his arms against his chest, taking in the sight of him - you in your satin black dress you wore on nearly every date.

“So,” Jean said finally, “What happened?”

You sighed, “He crawled through a window.”

Jean’s eyebrows furrowed, “He crawled through a window?”

“Yes, when he went to the bathroom and I called you. He crawled through a window to get away from me.” You looked anywhere around the room but the boy. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Hey,” Jean moved from the door, coming across the room to you, “Nothing’s wrong with you. Something’s wrong with him.” Jean held you at arm’s length, his hands on your shoulders. “Not only did he leave you, but he has a crush on Eren of all people. I’ve seen birds at the park who are more attractive than he is.”

You grinned sadly, “I bet people don’t crawl through windows to get away from Eren on dates.”

Jean ran his hand down the side of your head, “Eren doesn’t give them the chance, I don’t think he’s ever been on a date.”

“But, people would go on one with him.” You finally looked up at the boy in front of you, trying to keep the tears from spilling the second time today. “He’s not undateable. I’m undateable. I’ve scared guys away every Saturday night for the last two months.”

“You’re not undateable,” Jean said sternly, “You just haven’t found the right one. And, you won’t find the right one if you don’t keep going on these dates. Every horrible date means you’re one more Saturday closer to your soulmate.”

“And, what if I don’t have a soulmate? What if I’m damned to die alone?”

“Then, I’ll die with you.” Jean brought you in for a tight hug, your face snuggling into his firm chest. Jean whispered his words, mostly to himself, “I’d give up 200 soulmates if it only meant I could die with you.”

You closed your eyes against the soft fabric of Jean’s shirt. It was hard to trust his words when there seemed to be so many contradicting factors. Maybe tonight was a total bust, but next Saturday was a new day. You could try again next Saturday, and the Saturday after that, and the Saturday after that. And, every Saturday for the rest of your life until you found your soulmate, even if that seemed like a pointless mission.

You’d do it for both you and Jean, it was the least you could do.

First Sunday

You woke up in Jean’s bed with his body close to yours. It was a standard cuddling position for your friendship: face-to-face, his arms wrapped around your side, your arms cradled against your chest, and your legs intertwined. Despite the normalcy associated with the position, you still woke up with a dorky smile and butterflies floating around your stomach when you saw him sleeping in front of you.

Today was no exception.

You grinned ear to ear as you watched the peaceful rise and fall of Jean’s tanned chest under the thin fabric of his white t-shirt. You watched as his lips parted against the pressure of the pillow under his cheek, a small stream of spit rolling from the corner of his mouth and onto the fabric of the pillowcase below. Every Saturday night ended with tears and regrets, but every Sunday morning began with sweet dreams and a special sleepy boy.

You turned away from Jean, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. The only way to successfully grab the phone was to also pull yourself from Jean’s grasp and from between his legs. It was a horrible price to be paid, but it had to be paid nonetheless.

You checked your lock screen, reading over playful messages from your roommate asking about how good Floch was in bed - assuming you had stayed at his house since you hadn’t come home. And, a few confused messages from Eren asking you who Floch was, why he was texting him, and how he was connected to you.

You locked the phone and turned back to Jean. You were expecting the boy to still be napping peacefully, but he instead stared sleepily at you. Your face had been in a grimace from the mentions of your date last night, but Jean’s honey brown eyes quickly dissipated any negative feelings.

“Good morning,” You whispered, “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning,” Jean said as he shifted his head and wiped the spit from the corner of his mouth. He was hoping you hadn’t noticed the wetness and that you weren’t questioning the wiping motion he made at his cheek. “And I-”

You smiled, “From the drool spot on the pillowcase, I’ll have to assume you slept well.”

Jean’s cheeks turned rosy, you could see the physical embarrassment on his face. He wasn’t the type to accept humiliation so easily, he was always one to fight back. Just his humiliation isn’t enough, if he’s going down, he’s taking as many people he can take with him. So, you weren’t sure why you were surprised when he swiftly sat up, grabbed the pillow, and attempted to shove the wet spot into your face.

You yelped, rolled, and sprung from the bed only a second before the pillow could land on your cheek, right where it was heading. You were up on your feet quicker than you ever thought you could be, your body still feeling the aftereffects of sleep. You looked down at the boy in front of you, the pillow still tightly gripped in his hands and a mischievous smile smacked across his face.

“You little bastard,” You said with a shocked smile.

Jean smiled back, “I’m actually quite big.” The words were meant as a joke about his body’s size, but both of your dirty minds immediately jumped to the size of something else on his body. “In more ways than one.”

You shouted at the boy between the giggles escaping from your throat, “Jean! Seriously!”

Jean shrugged, laughing along at his own joke, “I’m sorry, I had to!”

“You didn’t have to do shit!” You made your way to the bedroom door. “I’m going home!”

“One bad joke and now you’re leaving.” Jean leaped from the bed, following you to the door. “At least let me make you breakfast first.”

You turned to him with an intrigued glint in your eyes, “Will you make me waffles?”

“Sure,” Jean said as he playfully shoved your shoulder, “I’ll make you waffles.”

“With chocolate chips?” He walked in front of you, leaving the room with you following behind him like a child.

“Yes, I can add chocolate chips.” Jean tried to hide the grin spreading across his cheeks. “Do you want bacon and sausage as well?”

“Shut up,” You said from behind his back, “You know that I don’t.”

His voice sounded sweet, “Yeah, I do know.”

You stood against the counter, only a foot away from where he stirred the waffle mix. You watched as he eyed the waffle box intently, then poured the four other ingredients into the bowl after the dry mix. He looked a bit confused as he moved the spoon around the bowl, as if he was deathly afraid of missing something but not wanting to give the impression that he’d be stupid enough to miss something.

You knew where the coffee was kept and how to work his coffee machine and while you waited for it to brew, you watched Jean with a weak smile across your face. He could feel your eyes on him. Jean tried to ignore the weight of your eyes, not wanting his cheeks to go red though his chest was already inflating from the action.

Jean spared a glance in your direction, only a few seconds before the coffee finished brewing with a loud splash. For those few seconds when both of your eyes were held on each other, time seemed to slow. You could read the admirational glint in his brown eyes and he could read the appreciative glint in your eyes. Before the moment could go much further, you turned away and grabbed the coffee pot and mugs.

You not only knew which coffee beans Jean preferred, but you also knew how he liked his coffee. You poured a little bit of his roommate’s creamer into his mug, and then the tiniest bit of sugar as well. After the coffee was finished, you handed him the mug with a quick smile.

Waffles eventually found themselves on plates and forks eventually found themselves in between fingers. You both ate breakfast against the kitchen counter, Jean leaning down farther than you had to. You moved your fork against the softness of the slightly underdone waffles - he didn’t know just how much batter was supposed to go into the waffle maker at once.

Jean suddenly spoke up by your side, “Are you free this Saturday?”

You turned to the boy, “I normally am. Who’s next?”

“I have a friend on the football team.” Jean ignored your initial grimace to the statement. “He’s nice and desperate, the way you like ‘em.”

You turned back to your waffle with a small pout, “Maybe I should give guys a break for a little.” Jean raised an eyebrow at you. “I’ll just become a nun and write off men altogether.”

“You can’t do that!”

Your head snapped back to Jean, “I can’t?”

“No,” Jean said, “You can’t.”

“And, why can’t I?”

“You just can’t.”

A thick silence had settled in the room, the only sound being the scraping of forks against the porcelain plates. You wondered why Jean was against you becoming a nun. You assumed it was because he was the type to fight persistently, so possibly the idea of giving up on something indefinitely was foreign and upsetting to him. You knew he indirectly reflected onto other people, yourself included.

After a few more moments of silence, Jean started walking away. You watched him as he moved across the living room, heading straight towards his bedroom. Right before the boy could get to the door, he turned to you with a single raised eyebrow and a cocky grin.

“Hey,” Jean said from across the room, “Do you wanna go to the bathroom before I do?”

You looked around the kitchen with a confused look on your face, as if the apartment could give you any clue as to what he was implying with his words. You didn’t have to use the bathroom, nor did you ever insinuate within the last twenty minutes that you did.

You tilted your head curiously, “Why would I need to go to the bathroom before you?”

Jean smiled at the idea of his next words, already proud of himself, “Just to make sure I can’t crawl out through the window.”

Jean laughed as you pretended to throw your fork across the spacious apartment. He was proud of his joke, and you had to admit that you weren’t as upset as you should have been. Last night, the idea of your date crawling through a window in order to get away from you was the worst thing that had ever happened. But with Jean, it was just a funny memory.

Jean came back to the kitchen after a few moments, still giggling lightly about his joke he made nearly two whole minutes ago. You ignored his cockiness by trying to fight the smile forming on your face.

Jean leaned towards you, wrapping a muscled arm around your shoulders. Being pressed against his body in this way made you now realize how he smelled. He smelled of a rich cologne of rose and mahogany. You hadn’t noticed the cologne before he left for the bathroom, but it could have very well slipped past you.

Jean spoke from above you, “I’m glad you aren’t still upset about last night.”

“I never said that.” You looked up at the boy, his arm still around you. “But, I am starting to see the humor in the situation.”

“Good,” Jean said with a smile, “It’s not nearly as bad as that guy who asked if his mom could join you for the date.”

You cringed at the thought, “And, I said yes.”

“And, the one who asked for a vial of your blood.”

You shrugged at the taller boy, “At least he asked, there was the one guy who stole my hair scrunchie without asking first. I think he used it so he could clone me.”

“Yeah.” Jean quickly remembered another awful date. “And, the one who gave you a yarn doll of yourself as a first date gift.”

You smiled widely, “I’m nearly a hundred percent sure that it was actually a Voodoo doll. I’m glad I accepted it before I told him no to a second date.”

Jean grinned down at you, only an inch or two from your face. It was hard not to smile when looking at the boy. He was beautiful and reminded you of an ancient sun god. From his tanned skin, to his lively brown eyes, and his deeply inviting smile. It was hard to look at Jean and not feel your heart skip a beat, especially when you were so close to him.

“They’re all funny stories now,” Jean said, “So, that’s good.”

You moved deeper into his arm, “Funny stories that I don’t need.”

“But, funny stories nonetheless.”

“Yeah,” You mumbled sarcastically, “Thanks to you.”

“Hey!” Jean was pulling you into a quick bear hug as you laughed against his chest. “I try to find the University’s best guys for you! They are truly the school’s finest.”

“Then, why do they all suck?”

He didn’t answer your question because he wasn’t sure he knew why. He didn’t know why he threw these horrible guys onto you, under the impression of them being good matches. But, in his defense, it was hard to find somebody of your quality.

You were a goddess amongst mortals and these men could never be enough for you. And, if these men were mortals compared to you, then Jean felt he wasn’t even a mortal. He was the dirt hiding in the crevices of somebody’s shoe, he was the dust somebody breathed in before they yawned. Jean felt he could never equal up to you, but maybe these other guys could get close. And, maybe - just maybe - if he helps you get a boyfriend, then he wouldn’t think about you being a goddess so much.

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