#I KEEP PAUSING IT TO BURY MY FACE IN MY HANDS AND JUST YELL

[youraveragemiscellanyenjoyer]

The way his character speaks I'm losing my mind

HMGJNGKBKBK

[minkieater]

when another member walks in on you ateez ot8 x fem!reader

silly little thing i wrote between clients today

smut below the cut! mdni ↓ dom/sub dynamics, exhibitionism, oral sex, p in v lol, lmk if i missed anything !!

hongjoong ☄️

“shut up slut, they’ll hear you. i bet you want that, don’t you?” he had your face buried in your mattress, drool slipping from your mouth, your ass up in the air where he was relentlessly drilling  into you. 

you moaned, you had stopped caring about your volume long ago, they would hear hongjoong’s thrusts before your moans anyhow. you clenched around him, only making him hiss out and reach over to push your head impossibly farther into the mattress. 

you pissed him off— you got a little too close to wooyoung, talked for a little too long and hongjoong was livid. 

“you want him to hear you, don’t you? want him to hear all the pretty sounds you make? showing off, huh? attention whore,” his words were venom, his lips inches from your ear with how he bent over you, foot planted on the mattress beside your shoulder. 

“are you guys oka— oh shit, i’m so sorry,” hongjoong lets go of your head only for the two of you to snap your faces up to the intruder, hongjoong stilling inside of you.

“what the fuck?” was all hongjoong could get out, a stunned wooyoung in the doorway, his jaw on the floor at the sight in front of him. “wooyoung! get out!” 

“it didn’t sound like you were fucking! i got scared,” you heard wooyoung yell as he closed the door behind him, leaving hongjoong to pick right back up where he left off. 

“don’t think i missed how you clenched around me, whore.”

seonghwa 🫧

seonghwa had you on your knees while he sat on the bed, leaned back on one arm with the other around your ponytail, guiding you up and down his length. 

in a black tank top and gray sweatpants he looked so fucking sexy in the living room, you couldn’t help but pull him into his bedroom for a minute alone — you needed to taste him, show him how much he affected you. 

“fuck, you’re so good at that,” his words were quiet, a low rasp to his voice as he tugged on your hair a little harder. your mouth slipped off of him with a pop, batting your eyelashes up at him with a knowingly coy smile.

he groaned, a little louder this time, his head falling back. “don’t look at me like that or your throat’s getting fucked.” 

you giggled, mouth attaching to him again, bobbing your head up and down a little faster now. he bucked his hips up little by little, using more force with each stroke and you took him proudly, small gags and noises of nasty wetness leaving your lips.

the door opened without either of you noticing, only catching a head of brown hair leaving seonghwa’s bedroom with a shriek of surprise. this wasn’t the first time yeosang had walked in on you, but it still made you laugh every damn time.

you looked up to seonghwa with a giggle on your lips after popping off him again, seonghwa wearing a smile himself.

“how many times do you think we’ll scar him before he stops coming in here?” seonghwa asks, letting go of your ponytail.

“if he was going to catch on, he would’ve by now,” you readjusted yourself on your knees during the pause, shaking your head before bringing your focus back on his delicious length before you. “you said something about fucking my throat right?”

yunho 🧍🏻‍♂️

you and yunho had been waiting for a day alone for weeks. for too long had you been silenced in the hours from one to three, his fingers clamped over your lips or stuffed between them in an attempt to keep you quiet. comeback season was busy, and when there was time off everyone lazed around the dorms and didn’t fucking leave. 

now, on your third consecutive day off, the dorms were empty and yunho took advantage. he had your hands pinned under your back with a belt he had just taken off, hips snapping into you so hard the sound was sure to be heard outside. 

“sloppy little cunt sucking me right the fuck in,” he hissed, hips cracking into your thighs, his fingers keeping you still.

you were wailing at this point, tears streaming down your face, begging for reprieve while also thinking if he stopped you’d die. 

“don’t stop,” you repeated, a mantra on your tongue, from your hips being slanted upward his cock was hitting that spongy spot in your walls that drove you fucking insane. 

you were so close, mere thrusts away from hitting your peak, and the door busted open, an out of breath mingi stood at the door.

“the rest of the guys are walking in right behind me,” mingi’s words were panicked in a warning, but yunho didn’t stop. he ignored his friend, knowing you were so close, wanting your high to crash over you so he could follow. 

you screamed — mingi couldn’t move. yunho fucked you through it, thrusts only quickening to meet his own end, until he doubled on top of you with two large hands landing right beside your head. 

yunho turned to look at mingi, a smirk playing on his lips with heaving breaths, “enjoyed the show?” 

yeosang 👥

everyday yeosang woke you up the same way: his fingers or his head between your thighs until you were creaming around him, then he replaced it with his cock. it wasn’t a good morning until you had at least one, if not two orgasms. 

this morning he was greedy— it seemed he didn’t want to let you go. you came on his face once, his fingers a second time, and he was working you up to a third on his lap. if yeosang could do anything it was last, his stamina was like no other, he could go for hours if you let him. 

you had your knees planted on the mattress beside his hips, his cock hitting your cervix continuously as you grind your hips back and forth against him, your nails clawing at his shoulders. his head was leaning against the headboard, leaving his throat open to you, where you licked and sucked pretty little bruises across the base of his neck, little whines leaving his throat.

“yes, baby, ‘m so close,” he croaked out, his voice raspy and deep, his abs clenching with every grind of your hips. 

“cum for me then yeo, fill me up,” your hand moved from his shoulder to wrap your fingers around his neck, pulling him towards you to connect your chest to his.

your mornings weren’t usually so filthy, never downright nasty, bringing your skin to touch his brought a sense of intimacy back to your morning. 

his head fell onto your shoulder with a groan, filling you up just as you told him to, thighs twitching beneath you. you moaned at the feeling, letting your head rest atop his, bringing your hands to tangle in his hair. 

“you guys awake yet?” seonghwa popped into your room, making you twist your body around to look at him, eyes wide.

“definitely awake,” he pulled his lips into a line, bidding you a singular nod before closing the door again. a huff of amusement left your lips as you looked back down to the boy laying on your shoulder, patting his head, giving him a moment to come back before you’d take your morning shower together.

san 🚪

san couldn’t wait. you were at your favorite club, both tipsy and horny, dancing to the beat of the song before san’s fingers dipped below your dress. you looked up to him with wide eyes, met with a filthy smirk and a pair of dimples that ushered you towards the men’s bathroom. 

“san, anyone could walk in,” you were uneasy, san was never so impatient that he needed you then and there. he’d never portrayed signs of exhibitionism before today, your sex life had always been private — you liked it that way, yet the hunger in his eyes and the spark left in the wake of his fingers on your skin made you excited. 

“let them see how good i fuck you then,” he hummed, fingers flipping up your dress, plunging into your core that was so wet he slipped in. the squelch of his fingers was deafening, you thanked god the bathroom was empty. 

he stuffed you into a stall, fingers still curling into you before he slipped your panties to the side, replacing his fingers with his cock. the pace he set was brutal, your hands bracing the wall above the toilet as he fucked into you from behind, hips slapping into your ass. 

you fought to keep your moans inside, pointless as the sound of skin slapping would overpower them anyway. san groaned, “knew you’d be wet, naughty girl. you were basically begging me to fuck you on the dance floor for everyone to see.” 

a whine escaped you, nails clawing against the tile of the wall. he slipped a hand around your hips, coming between your legs, rubbing your clit at a pace he knew would have you coming in seconds 

“fuck, san, harder please,” you breathed out, head dipping below your arms, hanging between them. 

he listened, quickening his pace, fucking you somehow harder than he was before. his fingers worked in a quick rhythm, making the pit in your stomach grow until you were overflowing on his dick.

“yeah, that’s it, baby. cum all over my cock,” he was drunk off your pussy, words slurring together, keeping his pace on your clit to ride you through it. 

when you were twitching from overstimulation he emptied himself inside you, head falling to the center of your spine. there was nothing but the sound of heavy breaths in the public restroom, you and san catching your breath and your sanity before he flipped your dress back down and zippered himself back up.

when you left the stall, jongho was washing his hands at the sink, barely giving you a glance as you stepped into view. 

“how long have you been in here?” san asked, a pink rising to his cheeks, looking like a completely different person than he had moments ago.

“unfortunately, long enough. broke the seal so i had no choice,” jongho shrugs as he grabs paper towels, drying off his palms. “make sure you two wash your hands.” 

mingi 🫶

the say my name stage always fucked you up, it never failed. being on stage period always fucked mingi up, that never failed either. it was safe to say that your post-show routine was always fucking backstage, it happened every stop, every show, you lost count of how many dressing rooms in foreign countries you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life in.

what was abnormal was mingi not waiting until the show was over. always professional, mingi waited until everyone was no longer sprinting around backstage with mini-fans and makeup brushes to touch up the eight boys before they had to head back out onstage. 

as he came off the stage, his walk was fast paced, precise. it would’ve scared you if you didn’t know what it meant. his fingers hooked around your arm, dragged you further backstage, and had you in a random closet in a stadium completely foreign to you. 

he was quick to split you open, granted say my name was within their first set so you were already dripping by the time he made it between your legs. 

“always so ready for me,” he mumbled out, zeroed in on your center but eyes still not fully clear. in his post performance haze he was always rougher, selfish, not a care in the world for you. it was your favorite. 

“put it in,” you barked out, hips bucking toward him and he was sheathed within seconds. giving you no time to get used to the stretch you wheezed, head lolling onto his shoulder, and he let loose. 

he fucked you stupid, you joined him in whatever haze his brain was under as he pounded into you, hips clapping into the silence of the dark storage room. you heard footsteps outside but mingi made no moves to halt his thrusts, only focused on one thing, getting the two of you off before he had to go back onstage. 

“are you fucking?” yunho’s voice wasn’t clear until he had the door open, light cascading into the storage room, yours and mingi’s necks snapping to look at the intruder.

he was smirking �� he knew what he was walking into yet he did it anyway. you and mingi both smiled cheshire grins as yunho stepped inside the storage room, quickly slamming the door shut behind him. 

“why didn’t you invite me?”

wooyoung 🐈‍⬛

wooyoung had you splayed out on the bed, legs bent up with his head between them. eating you out was adjacent to your meditation time, as he calls it, it's his favorite way to wind down. after a long day, after a short day, during his day, it didn’t matter when. wooyoung was always down to eat you out, eager even — he is a man not above begging. 

your chin was shot back, eyes screwed tight, wooyoung had made you cum on his tongue twice so far and he was nowhere near finished. 

after eating you through your second orgasm his licks had slowed down, easing up his pressure, making his tongue soft and pliable instead of hard and pointed. 

soft moans left your lips, he knew by now how to work you through overstimulation, lazily licking at your clit until your moans turned to whines once more.

“taste so fucking good, could eat this pussy all night,” his eyes were fully closed, he was in a dream. between your legs was his happy place, he’d die there a happy man, he’d admitted it more than once. more than ten times, at least. 

when he noticed your breaths getting shorter and your moans shifting to a higher pitch he was sharp with his movements, picking up his pace, licking up your folds and sucking on your clit with swollen lips. 

hongjoong bounced through the door, “hey wooyo, you- jesus fucking christ!” 

your legs snapped shut, closing over wooyoung’s head and he pried himself out of your cage with painted fingertips, jumping up to face hongjoong at the door.

“what?” wooyoung asked, palm swiping at his chin.

“i’m scarred,” hongjoong muttered, voice horrified with hands covering his eyes. your hands fled for the blankets, pulling them over your body with a speed you weren’t expecting to have to use. 

“what do you want, joong?” wooyoung asked, rushed yet still casual, sitting on his knees. his abdomen was clenched, muscles on display as he twisted backward, you didn’t even care that hongjoong was in the room. 

“i was going to ask if you had a spare pair of headphones,” his voice was barely above a squeak, hands still covering his eyes.

“oh, yeah i do, here, they’re my sony 1000MX—”

“i don’t give a fuck wooyoung, give them to me so i can leave.”

jongho 🧸

you were hanging out with jongho in the dance practice room as he practiced the same routine again, the fifth time tonight.

he groaned in frustration after missing a step again, the same step he’s missed the past four times he’s gone through the routine. his hands cover his face, dragging down his cheeks.

you get up from your spot on the floor, making your way in front of him, grabbing his hands to hold in yours.

“why don’t you stop for the night?” you tilt your head, nothing but warmth in your eyes as you stare into his, cold and irritated. 

“i need to get this fucking right,” his lips are pursed, his eyebrows are knit together as he barks, “i need to clear my head.” 

within minutes he had you on your hands and knees atop the hardwood floor, bodies facing the mirror that spread across the wall, forcing you to watch yourself as he fucked you stupid. 

“see that?” he smirked at you through the mirror, fingers tight on your hips, “nothing but a cocksleeve whenever i want it, so willing for me.” 

his words were cool and calm, almost a threat on his lips as he abused your core. your eyebrows were tangled and your mouth hung open, knees and palms burning from the pressure against the harsh wood. 

“yes, just for you,” you manage to choke out between thrusts, body jolting forward with each thrust. 

“that’s right baby,” he nods, his smile turning villainous, only fucking into you harder as he spits, “such a fucking whore, letting me fuck you in public like this.” 

you nod, eyes screwed shut, “d-don’t fucking stop.” 

his chuckle is deep, his thrusts losing their rhythm, “you want it? want me to fill this filthy pussy up?” 

the door to the practice room opens, san strolls inside with a smile on his face before he sees the two of you — he shrieked. “what the fuck!?” 

jongho stilled, laying himself atop your body, trying to cover you as best he could. his words come out nervous, “get the fuck out!”

san slips back out of the door, then peeks his head back in, “wait, when are you gonna be done? i want to practice.” 

“san!” 

masterlist

[evie-sturns]

mature - Matt sturniolo

summary: where you and your boyfriend matt get into big fight, he knows how to make it up to you, even when you want nothing to do with him.

contains: mature!matt, angst, crying, yelling, fluff, arguing.

————————————🩵————————————

11:56pm

i lay spread across the couch in my pretty white pyjamas, a small bowl of pretzels lay next to me as i watch youtube videos on the tv.

suddenly my peace gets interrupted.

“are you slow? why do you keep making a fucking mess of my house?” matt speaks up, walking into the living room, his eyebrows scrunched.

“what?” i instantly reply quietly,

he walks over to me and lifts up the bowl next to me,

“all of your shit, all over the house, is it that hard for you to pick it up? or do you need me to do that for you aswell.”

his voice isn’t loud, not even mad, but everything that comes out of his mouth is bitchy.

“excuse me? are you forgetting who cleans when you’re filming?” i raise my voice, standing up off the couch to be face to face with him.

he lets out a scoff, “don’t do a good job at it, do you?”

“don’t talk to me like that! you’re starting arguments for no reason!” i glare into matt’s eyes,

“baby, i’m not arguing with you, just try do better for me.” his tone is passive aggressive,

“i’m arguing with you! you can’t speak to me like that!” i yell, pointing my finger in his chest.

“you’re just a bit useless around the house, that’s all.” he says, staring into my eyes.

“no- let me rephrase, you’re just useless in general.” he follows up, my heart thumps against my ribs.

my hand collides with his cheek, slapping him, my eyes instantly widen.

he grabs my wrist, yanking me towards him.

“touch me again see what happens.” he warns, squeezing my wrist in his large hands,

my eyes water,

matt never gets mad at me, he treats me like an actual princess, he’s never made me upset, or cry, never raised his voice at me.

“you’re such an asshole!” i scream at him,

“go! go to the spare room i don’t want to see you!” he shouts back, his voice booming through the room, which is now warm from the heat of the argument.

my heart sinks as he yells,

“go! fuck out of here!”

i pause for a moment, tears blurring my vision, threatening to fall.

i nod, grabbing my phone off the couch and silently walking out of the room.

matt just watches me, his breathing heavy.

tears instantly start flowing, painting my flushed cheeks with warm tears.

i let out a loud strangled sob before reaching the spare bedroom, i walk into the room and slam the door behind me.

“are you crying?” matt calls out, followed by quick footsteps up the hallway.

i flop down onto the bed, burying my face into the pillow as all my emotions pour out of me.

my whole body shakes with each attempt of a breath.

i grab my soft animal on the bed and hold it close to me, clutching it as i cry.

matt opens the door with a small huff, before walking over next to the bed.

he rubs my back soothingly, “cmon, roll over onto your back.” he says softly

i shake my head with a sniffle, my tears dampening the pillow as i sob into it.

“i hate you!” i cry,

“i know, i know you do.” he says, running his fingers across my back,

“you’re so mean.” i sniff, my voice muffled by the pillow.

“i know, i was really mean to you, wasn’t i? and i didn’t mean any of it, just a tiring day.” he sighs,

i nod, matt sits down on the bed beside me and plays with my hair,

“can you look at me please?” he asks, starting to braid my hair at the back.

i slowly lift my face out of the pillow, my eyes puffy and my whole face red.

“there she is, pretty girl.” he smiles, pulling me onto his lap so i straddle him.

i look at his face, the side of it has a small slap mark.

my bottom lips trembles, “i dont know why i slapped you, i’m- im sorry matt.”

he presses a finger to my lips, “shh, sh i deserved it.” he laughs.

“i feel guilty though.” i pout,

“can i tell you a secret?” he asks,

i nod, he whispers into my hair “you didn’t hit me that hard, i promise.”

i feel a small weight get lifted off my chest.

“now take a nice deep breath for me okay?”

i suck in a deep breath,

“good girl, can you give me another one?”

i take in another deep breath, blowing out air through my nose.

he wipes the stray tears away from my face,

“i didn’t mean to make you cry sweetheart, you know i hate seeing you this upset.” he says, looking into my eyes.

“it’s okay.” i sniff,

“i want to see you smile for me,” matt says, i give him a small smile before covering my face.

he pulls my hands away from my face with a small laugh,

“i can’t smile for you when you ask me to, it’s so awkward!” i giggle,

“it’s cute baby.” he grins, scooping me up in his arms and standing up off the bed.

he walks us out of the room, “now lets get you in the bath.”

i squeal as he runs us down the hallway, “you’re gonna drop me!!”

he throws me a couple inches in the air before catching me back in his arms, earning a loud scream from me, followed by loud laughs from him.

he walks into the bathroom, before setting me down on the toilet seat.

he turns on the bath before walking over to me, tugging my tank top off my head,

i feel his cold hands fiddle with the clasp of my bra,

“matt! i can do this myself.” i protest, he shakes his head.

“it’s my pleasure.” he grins, letting my bra fall off of me.

“you’re so stupid.” i laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly.

—

@jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathando-64 esgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 9 9 @sturnthepot t t @zayyluvz z z @realuvrrr r @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall @raysmayhem-72 @sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry y @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc c @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz 0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonly @justalittle47 7 @sunsetsturniolos

[quiet-onset]

seeking refuge

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

wc: 1.5k

summary: carmy is having a day, and you want him to get lost in you.

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact!!!, unprotected sex, overstimulation (character and reader)

a/n: is this realistic? probably not. but that's why it's fanfiction! i truly do not remember writing most of this, but i was looking through my wips to find something work on and came across this already finished fic from last year lol. enjoy!

He had the look in his eye. That look had him curling in on himself, shoulders slumped as his mind ran wild. Every once in a while, he’d get lost in his own thoughts, a complete mashup of all the anxiety-inducing shit he’d ever encountered. Money, renovations, Michael, don’t miss NA meeting, walk-in door handle, Ma, menu, run menu ideas by Sydney, Sugar, and oh shit, Sugar’s baby, right, I’m an uncle—

“Carm?”

Like some sort of psuedo-siren, your voice called him back to stable ground, away from troubled waters. Still, he was merely wading when his eyes focused on you. His lips pulled up in an anxious smile, the best he could give you at the moment. “Hey, sorry, hey. I’m here.” He said, nodding his head. Then, his brow furrowed, and he shook away the confusion. “Wait, what are you doin’ here?”

“Richie called, said you might need the rest of the day off.”

Carm rolled his eyes and stood from the office chair, stepping past you to yell at Richie from the doorway. “Cousin!”

“Uh-uh, you are not fuckin’ up my flow today, cousin. I’m in the zone. Take that anxiety bullshit elsewhere, heard?” Richie dismissed him before he could make his defense.

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you, too. See ya tomorrow.” Richie replied. “I need hands, chefs!”

You chuckled behind Carm, wrapping your arms around his waist. You pressed your cheek against his back and immediately felt some of the tension there roll away. “That training did a number on him.” You commented.

“Too smart for his own good now.” Carmen added.

You leaned up to press a soft kiss against his ear. “Come home, bear.”

It was only a matter of time after that. He’d explained the issue on the way home, or at least tried to. “I dunno, there’s just too many thoughts and not enough time or space. Feel like my brain’s gonna fuckin’ explode, just get lost in my goddamn mind.”

He almost pulled over and dragged you into the backseat at your reply. “Get lost in me instead.”

And he did. He managed to keep himself contained long enough to get home, but once there, he wasted no time. A mere fifteen minutes later, and he had you on your back, legs spread about his waist as his thick, hard cock stretched you open. You held on for dear life as your pussy clenched around him, wet and sticky with your arousal.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby. ‘S exactly what I needed.” He panted. “So fuckin’ wet.”

You could barely form the words to respond, hips canting up with each thrust, chasing the pleasure. Not that it mattered to Carmen, he was content with the sweet moans and whimpers that fell without pause from your lips. He adored the sounds you made and strove to pull them out of you as he pounded you into the mattress. He stopped for a brief moment when he felt your walls tighten, groaning deep in his chest. One hand gripped at the back of your thigh and pushed, spreading you wider. The other slid forward until his elbow was pressed against the mattress next to your head, and he buried his face in your neck.

“Gonna make me come ‘f you keep squeezin’ like that, baby.” His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his breath hot and wet against your skin.

“Can’t he-help it.” You whined prettily. “Feels good. Please don’t stop, gonna come.”

“Yeah? Gonna come on this dick?” His hand reached down to toy with your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you cried out his name.

All you could do is nod, your moans getting louder as your orgasm approached. And then, pleasure so good, tears pricked at your eyes. Your back arched, your breasts pressed into his chest, you moaned his name. That white-hot bliss pulsed in every part of you, almost like it was being torn from you. Your cunt clamped around him, and you’re sure if you looked down, a ring of your arousal would coat the base of his cock.

Like all he needed was your pleasure, his finish hit him like a truck seconds later. An unending string of fuck, fuck, fuck as he pumped his come into you, the white, warm streams of him coating your walls. His balls pulsed hard as he gave you long, slow strokes, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with one particularly deep thrust.

And even though his pace had slowed, his hips didn’t stop. The overstimulation was starting to set in, your stomach flipping deliciously at the continuous pleasure. Still, he was strangely quiet, so you wanted to make sure he was okay.

“C-Carmy,” You whimpered out. “You still with me, bear?”

You expected a pause, a wait, but the answer was immediate. “‘F course I am. Nowhere else I’d rather be. Goddamnit.”

“Carmen?”

“Gotta have you again.”

You didn’t have time to process his words before he was pulling out of you and flipping you over. He hastily grabbed a pillow and lifted your hips to slide it under. Even in the orgasmic-haze that fogged his brain, he wanted to make sure you were comfortable. Still-hard cock in hand, he stroked himself firmly as he kneeled behind you. His free hand gripped at the fullness of your ass, pulling lightly until he could see the mess he’d made of your pussy, a mixture of yours and his come dripping out of you. It might've drenched the pillowcase, but the thought hadn’t even passed Carmen’s mind. He just leaned over you until his nose was buried in your hair, pressing himself into your sweet cunt once more. You let out a loud moan of his name, your tight walls still fluttering post-orgasm.

“Didn’t want your legs to get sore.” He mumbled as he started fucking you again, slow and deep. “Shit, I need to keep goin'. Need to fill you up again.”

“‘S too good, oh my god.” You cried out. At this angle, the tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Gonna let me keep goin’, right? Let me keep fuckin’ my cock into you, fillin’ your sweet little cunt with my come? Gonna let me get lost in you, pretty girl?”

On one hand, you weren’t sure where this Carmen came from. It wasn’t like he was silent during sex, but he never talked this much. Never this filthy. It was like his pleasure controlled him, the overstimulation working double-time to control his body and mind at once. With every word, his pace got faster, his thrusts deeper, inhibiting your ability to speak. 

It wasn’t made better when Carmen wrapped his arm around your neck, his bicep pressing lightly against your throat. A ragged gasp passed through your lips as he gave an experimental squeeze, timed perfectly with a deep thrust of his cock. He pressed his cheek against yours as you nodded eagerly, hoping the response would suffice.

“That’s it, baby, that’s fuckin’ it. So good to me all the goddamn time.” He groaned, hips bouncing off your ass with every thrust. “Pullin’ me out my head, makin’ me feel good. Perfect girl for me. Perfect girl with a perfect fuckin’ cunt, shit.”

He kept going and going and going, only relishing in a short rest each time. A setting sun and four orgasms later — five, for him — he was still burying his overstimulated cock in your overstimulated pussy. You were on your side now, facing him with your leg thrown over his hip. Each slow thrust of his dick and every pulse of your puffy cunt was laced with pain, but the pleasure was still there, too, making it hard to think. But for Carm, his mind was clear, the only thing left a vision of your sweaty face contorted with mind-numbing pleasure-pain.

One hand pulled you closer by your ass, the other brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead. “So pretty like this, baby. Could do this all fuckin’ day.”

“Carm, ‘s too much.” You gasped, eyes wide as you looked up at him. “Feels too good.”

He wiped a tear from your cheek, feeling his balls throb hard, almost painfully, as he plunged his cock deeper into you. “I know, I know. Just need another one, need to keep going till I’m fuckin’ empty. You can do that, right? You can take it.”

And sure, the overstimulation may have been clouding your judgment. But one look at his blue eyes, glazed over and needy, and you wanted to keep going. You wanted to lay there and let him take what he needed until he was spent, till all the anxious thoughts he ever had faded from memory. Your pussy tightened at the thought as you wondered how long it would take before he fucked his mind completely empty.

And just like that, he was coming again. Your sticky walls coaxed it out of him, pulsing around him until his hips stuttered. With the number of loads he’d already pumped into you, you couldn’t even feel the new warmth of his come. You only knew it was there when his cock pushed back inside, and come dribbled out of you and down your thigh.

And not a moment later, you were on your back again, and he was fucking you headfirst into your sixth orgasm. You and Carmen had a long night ahead of you. 

[amara-scott]

Imagine Mattheo and Theodore fighting over you constantly.

P.1

Reader x Mattheo Riddle / Reader x Theodore Nott

"The picknick was a good idea, I have to admit." I say, dropping another grape into my mouth, a full mouth turned into a smile. I sneak another one out of the basket Theo is carrying.

I glance over at Theo and he nods, grinning. He winks. "I know, Carina. I always have the best ideas, you should know that by now." I roll my eyes in amusement at his cocky statement.

As if on cue, I see a brown mop of curls rounding the corner, making me sigh. Great. Just great.

"Hey, what a surprise." Mattheo says, not seeming too happy as his eyes land on Theodore beside me. Mattheo shuffles something inside his jacket, flashing white, which I only catch a glimpse of. But I can't even question what it was before these two begin staring each other down.

An undeniably painful pause is the only thing holding me back from just turning around to run away. It's scaring me to even move a muscle. If these two don't sort out whatever is bugging them, I won't hesitate and avoid them both. I really did try to help them befriend each other once more. Their inner rivalry didn't get unnoticed by the rest of our friend group either. What has gotten into them these past few weeks?

"(Y/N), let's get going." Theo's free hand wraps around my wrist, not even glancing at me once while talking. He turns and tries to pull me with him, but not before Mattheo steps up, pushing Theo.

I stumble with him, still being in the grasp of Theo's strong hand. He let go and I take a step back.

"Excuse me?!" I get out before straightening up, rearranging my cloak. My glare hits Mattheo, but he is fixed on the boy in front of him as they now nearly graze noses. If I didn't know these two, I'd say one of them would be a Gryffindor. That would make sense at least. This is worse than Draco and Harry.

"Where do you think you're taking her, huh?" He grits out, and I can't say a word, too stunned I am being dragged into this ongoing fight now.

"Stop it, both of you!" I yell, but neither of them are backing down, making it really hard not to just ask a Professor to break them off. I glance around, only a few students hushing past, not daring to spare a look.

"We are going somewhere that is none of your concern, Riddle."

"Yeah? I don't think so, Nott."

"Why don't you fuck off and shag one of your whores, mind your own damn business!"

I had never seen either of them so worked up, which certainly was scary to look at. I try once more, "boys, come on, this is ridiculous." I gulp as they still don't look at me. My heart starts racing, and I try to find a way out that won't result in broken noses or wands at each other throats. What is going on with these two?!

"Come on, (Y/N)." Theo says again, making me debate what I should do. Pick a side? I don't want to be the reason one is more mad or disappointed by what I do.

"No." I mumble, feeling my eyes sting as I blink. I gulp once more, Theo's eyes finding my form a few feet behind Mattheo. His face relaxes as he looks at me.

"See? She doesn't want you, Nott." I can only make out the corner of Mattheo's lips as they curl up into a grin. Which doesn't help my situation.

"I'm not picking a side here, Matt, you are both acting extremely childish over – over, who knows what!" I turn and storm off, ignoring Matt and Theo yelling my name.

These idiots took it too far now. I won't speak a word – won't spare them another glance. Ugh, boys!

___

"-and he pushed Theo! Like a little kid! What is going on with these two?" I sat across from Pansy, piercing my fork into my piece of chocolate cake over and over again until it went mushy and the appetite left me. I sigh, my fork dropping onto the table, and I bury my face into my hands.

"You know them. They will get over it. Theo probably stole Matt's last fudge fly. They're boys, just like you said." She mumbles and keeps chewing on her dessert, eyes scanning the next page of her Witch Weekly magazine.

"I hope you're right." I mutter under my breath.

"Hey you two-" Draco joins us at the table, sitting down next to Pansy, Enzo settles beside me, I send him a brief smile.

"What's pestering you, (Y/N)? Or should I ask – who's pestering you?" He snickers and earns a stare from Pansy, making him shut up.

"Wait – do you know something, Draco?" I ask him and squint my eyes at him. He obviously does, as he stutters for a word, shaking his head. His cheeks slightly pink.

"Enzo, what is going on? Where are the others?" I turn to him, he sighs but shakes his head, sending me a small and sorry smile.

"I promised not to tell anyone. Especially not you, love." I grow irritated with the lot and push myself up, sending another glare at Draco, he would be easier to break. I take out my wand, holding it by my side and start boring holes into his head. He tries to avoid my deathly stare. But then he makes the mistake of connecting his eyes with mine.

"If you won't tell me right now where they are, I will personally make sure to have you grow a second nose every day, for the rest of the year – you will smell things you wish you didn't –"

"– come on, (Y/N), we promised –"

"– In the library, in the far back corner on the second level –" Draco squeaks, making Enzo glare at him in shock.

"We promised, Draco!"

"I don't care, I know she'll do it. I don't want a nose on my bum one morning! She knows how to get into our dorm." Draco snarls and glares at the table as I hurry off. Pansy only smirking and eating her second dessert in peace.

"Go get them!" She calls out without looking up and I wave her off, pushing past a few people on my way. My heart is racing and I don't know if I want to even meet these idiots. I promised myself to ignore them. Well that didn't take long for me to break.

I round the corner and walk into the library. My racing thoughts made this quiet place unbearable as I heard every damn thought of mine. But just as I take the last couple steps on the stairwell, I am met with hushed shouting.

"– how about you're both idiots? I really am hungry and if you two make me miss dinner, you won't sleep another night –" I hear Blaise taunting. I glance between a few books on the shelf, making out three heads. There they are. Blaise sits by the window, I could see his face clear as day. Theo sat sideways, eyes turned to the table in between them both. Mattheo on the other hand stands, pacing back and forth. He stops, just as my breath.

"Theo simply has to admit that he went behind my back. He took away the only thing that really mattered –"

"The only thing that mattered? The only thing that mattered to you was to simply get laid! Like always – just pick a different girl!" Theo stands up too now, Mattheo stepping up to his figure.

Blaise suddenly steps between them, hands on either chest and looks back and forth. "Hey, boys, you truly think we haven't had these lines already tonight? You're both ridiculous."

So this is about a girl? Is this about –

"Well, (Y/N) would never pick someone like you."

Shit.

"Like me? You're one to talk, Nott – stealing her from me, right after I told you I liked her. I trusted you, you are supposed to be my fucking best mate!" Their hushed voices are not so hushed anymore and I glance down to Miss Pince's desk. She narrows her eyes, scanning the upper level.

Blaise is struggling to hold Mattheo back now, Theo's lips curling into a smirk. I lean closer, my eyes still wide. How do they both like – me? Is this a stupid prank?

WHACK!

I was obviously leaning onto the shelf a bit too much as a book fell to the ground. Their heads turn to me and I could now clearly see all of them through the opening. I give them a weak smile and wave. "Hey –"

"(Y/N)?" Theo asks, stepping forward, around the shelf. I meet him half way, Mattheo’s eyes as hard as stone. My mouth feels dry while I try to think of what to say. I shrug and try to smile. My eyes land on Blaise who seems relieved, sighing as he walks up to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder, glancing between Theo and Matt.

“Maybe you’re the best to talk to them right now.” He pats my shoulder and turns to leave, I turn my head, wanting to tell him to stay, my heart racing. Blaise stops, glancing back at me. “Good luck.” He smirks and skips down the staircase. I really don’t want to turn back around so I take my time, gulping as I focus on both their shoe pairs instead of any eyes. Theo steps up slowly. “Carina, what did you hear?” My eyes shoot up at his question and Matt huffs, falling back into a cushioned arm chair.

“Obviously she heard it all. Otherwise she would be smacking our heads by now.” He mumbles at the end, his head held high as he’s glaring down at his knees, his hands squeezing the soft armrests. His sharp jaw clenching every now and then.

“I- I really-“ I take a deep breath shaking my head. “- don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Theo sends me a small encouraging smile. Matt’s head rolls back as he groans out.

“Oh please, stop that stupid emphasizing scheme!” Matt stands back up and joins us, glaring at Theo in disgust. Theo just rolls his eyes, turning to him.

“Just because you’re cold-hearted and only care about yourself doesn’t mean everyone has to-“

“-oh I only care about myself? You’re one to talk, fucking backstabber-“

“-Me? You are-“

“Hey!” I yell out, them both turning to me as they are once again almost choking each other. I ignore a few shushes thrown our way. Mattheo’s eyes soften as I look directly at him. His lips part and in his eyes I see that he’s struggling to hold back from saying what’s on his mind. “Matt-“ I get out, holding back my own emotional rollercoaster.

“I- I can’t-“ He stammers, rushing past me and running down the stairs, leaving. I walk up to the railing, my hands closing around the cold wood while I am looking after him.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” My head snaps around, Theo’s sad eyes glossy. He looks down, stepping closer and stops a foot from me. His eyes wandering back up, like he’s taking one last good look at me. Taking me in.

“It’s always been him.” He continues.

———

For part two choose your ending:

Mattheo

Theodore

Third ending?... (coming soon)

[felinecyan]

When The Night Calls

[Izuku Midoriya x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Your best friend leaving the hero course was enough to make you lose your mind. Especially when he’s suddenly standing across from you with nothing but a tired smile.

WC: 2978

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Vigilante!Deku

Please give this one extra love!! Somehow Midoriya is also very suspiciously difficult to write 👀 (Also, that 3rd-degree burn I gave my hand today is making me want to cry and throw myself in a river. Damn you, AO3 curse!! )

『••✎••』

Seeing that letter taped on your door broke you in more ways than one.

He had been gone for almost a week, but his note left behind made you realize just how long it'd been. How long he had left you with nothing more than a simple explanation of his departure and how it felt like he was never coming back.

The entire class had been on edge ever since. The note even threw Bakugo for a loop, as much as he would deny it. It had everyone wondering where he was and if he was okay.

It hurt you the most, though. He was the closest friend you had and the only one who truly understood your feelings.

But now he was gone.

Aizawa still continued teaching, but with Midoriya absent, the class just couldn't focus. He wasn't as good at making things seem less depressing or stressful, and his lectures were just boring without a green bush to lighten the mood. Or at least, you thought so.

You haven't been paying much attention lately, and you're too busy thinking of your missing friend. Your grades had been slipping, but it wasn't like anyone could blame you. Even if your friends could, they didn't say anything.

They had tried talking to you, but all you could do was give them a half-hearted smile, shake your head, and tell them, "I'm fine."

You weren't fine, and you knew that. But what were you supposed to do? Cry about it? It’s not like he’d come back if you did that.

Ironically, he did technically come back.

That day, Aizawa decided to keep the pain everyone felt about Midoriya buried beneath the surface, so he assigned you all a ten-page essay about the history of quirks.

So, here you were, writing a half-assed essay close to two in the morning. Kaminari was blowing up the group chat with memes and random jokes, but no one seemed to care or even respond.

Well, that was until Bakugo started yelling at him to stop texting because he was trying to sleep.

That went on for about a solid ten minutes, with everyone getting annoyed at the two idiots, but eventually, it died down.

You took a glance at the clock, which now read 2:12 a.m.

Sleep just couldn't come to you. Not now, not when your brain was filled with thoughts of the broccoli boi.

Then, there was a tiny patter against your window, almost like a knock. If it hadn’t been so quiet, you might not have heard it.

You ignored it at first, of course, but it continued, the knocks getting louder and more urgent.

Finally, you stood from your chair, deciding to investigate, but then, the knocking stopped.

You paused, confused, but shrugged, figuring you must have been hearing things.

Yeah, right, because hearing knocks on your dorm window at 2 a.m. is normal.

It turned out to be a good thing you got up because when you turned back around, a figure was directly behind you.

You jumped back in fear, letting out a short shriek before slapping your hands over your mouth. The side eye glance to your window, now open and curtain rustling in the slight wind, had you regretting not locking the damn thing.

The figure let out a small chuckle, his shoulders shaking a bit, and your heart rate sped up.

You could see the person a lot better now that they weren't in the shadows, but the moonlight still kept their face hidden.

All you could see was the curly mess of green hair and a large hoodie with a black mask pulled over the bottom half of their face.

But you didn’t have to see his eyes to know exactly who it was.

Your hands fell limply to your sides as the boy stepped closer. His hand reached the hood of his suit, slowly pulling it off, and his bright, emerald green eyes were staring straight into yours.

The only thing you could do was stare, dumbfounded.

"You did lock it, by the way," the boy's voice said. It sounded hoarse and scratchy as if he hadn't spoken in days. He probably hadn't.

Still, his intuition never failed.

You continued to stare, eyes wide and unblinking.

Midoriya's brow furrowed, a look of worry replacing his smile.

"They really should put more difficult locks on these things. I mean, honestly, all I had to do was twist it, and it opened. If I were a villain, then— hmph!"

Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, cutting him off. His eyes widened, surprised, but eventually, he relaxed, wrapping his own arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

"I was so worried," you said. You could feel your body starting to tremble, tears pricking your eyes. "Everyone was."

His arms tightened, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I know. I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. "I couldn't think of any other way."

You leaned back a bit enough to look him in the eyes. His tired, determined eyes.

"Wait, if you’re here… does that mean...?"

"I need my notebook." He kept his frown, and a sigh escaped his lips. "You have my old notes, right? I need those."

Oh.

That was it.

That was why he was back.

"Oh," You failed to hide the disappointment in your tone. "Right, uh, hold on…"

You pulled away, your eyes looking away from his. You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head as you walked over to the desk, rummaging through the drawer.

Speaking of, your desk was an absolute disaster. If allowing students in your dorm room wasn't against the rules, Iida would have broken down your door a long time ago, screaming at the top of his lungs about how your room was in utter chaos.

Eventually, you found it. It was covered in sticky notes, and some of the pages were folded. Makes sense, considering the fact that you'd spent the last week reading it, studying, and hoping to find some kind of clue about his whereabouts and the league itself.

But even if it was in your hands, screaming for its owner, you hesitated. He was going to leave again, wasn't he? He wasn't going to stay.

But common sense hit you. You couldn’t force him to stay. It would be selfish of you to even ask.

You turned, walking back over to him. He was staring intently at the ground, his eyes narrowed in concentration, and he had a small frown on his face.

When you were a couple of feet away, he finally looked up, his hand reaching out for the book.

"Here," you said, trying not to let the sadness seep into your words. "Don’t mind the added stickies. Simpler terms, easier to understand, you know?"

"Right, thanks," he murmured, his eyes darting over the cover before flipping through the pages. His brows were scrunched together, and his fingers fiddled with the pages, flipping through them with a practiced speed.

He was so concentrated on the notebook that he didn't see your frown, and he didn't see the sadness in your eyes.

But then, he froze.

His eyes scanned over one of the pages, his fingers tightening around the spine of the book, and his breath hitched.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and his lips were set in a tight line.

"You read this?"

"Huh?" You blinked, taken aback. "Was I… not supposed to read it all?"

"What? No, no, I meant this page."

He flipped the book around, opening it to a certain page, and held it up for you to see.

Oh, yeah, his page. The one where he wrote about himself. Which, proudly, you knew most of what was written in it, anyway. Some things caught you off guard, but not many.

"Oh, yeah, I skimmed over it," you admitted.

"And... how much did you skim over?"

"Um... all of it? I mean, I'm in your hero notes, too. I took a lot more of my time on the page dedicated to me, I have to admit, but uh… What's the big deal?"

Midoriya looked at you, and his gaze was intense. "Did you… miss me that much that you would study my hero notes that closely?"

"Well, I wouldn’t say closely—"

He tilted his head in an almost sarcastic manner, and his eyes narrowed as he leaned over to point at a section in his notes.

A bright pink sticky note, covered in stars, was stuck onto the paper.

It was a small part, a very short paragraph, and you had given your analysis of him and not of his quirk either. It was a list of his attributes, his personality, and the type of hero he was.

To someone else, it would be pretty informative about what kind of person he was and what kind of hero he would be, but you both knew the true meaning behind the note.

Because it was all the things you missed about him.

"… oh, " was all you could say.

The air around you two suddenly became awkward, the silence becoming heavy.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

But, as expected, Midoriya broke the silence.

"I figured since you’re still awake, it must mean that you're working on homework or studying, and you wouldn’t do that at night if I weren’t gone," he began. "I thought that maybe it would be too soon to come back, or even that I should have stayed away, but, well, I really needed my notes, and, honestly, I wanted to see you, and—!"

He was rambling again. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, his brain spitting out more words than his mouth could.

At least he was still himself, you thought.

You decided to cut him off, placing your hand on his arm, and he jolted at the sudden contact, his head snapping back up to yours.

"I’m sorry," you said, looking down.

He looked confused, tilting his head. "What for? You have nothing to be sorry for; you didn't do anything wrong."

"No, I—" You cut yourself off, biting your lip, and looked away. You took a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm sorry," you started. "For not stopping you. For not coming with you. For not helping you. I had no idea what you were going through, and I was too worried about myself, and I didn't—"

"Hey, hey, stop," Midoriya said, placing his hand on your shoulder. You hadn't realized you were shaking. "This is my fight, okay? It's not yours, and I was the one who didn’t want to bring anyone else into this mess. This isn’t your fault, so please don’t beat yourself up about it."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do." You looked back up at him, tears blurring your vision. "I don’t know how to help."

He was silent for a moment, but then, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you once again, and you buried your head in his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie.

"It's okay," he said. "I don’t expect you to know how to help, and I didn’t come here for your help. Well, technically, I did since you had my notebook, but I’m speaking on a—"

“I know, I know," you mumbled.

Another moment of silence, and then, he sighed, a puff of air brushing your ear.

"I'm not sure when I'll be back, if I ever will, but I promise," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear and his words making your heart skip a beat. "I promise we will be fine. We all will. Me, you, everyone else. It might take a while, but we will be okay."

You nodded, your grip on his hoodie tightening. This was the sound of a goodbye, and the finality of it terrified you.

"It’s just…" you mumbled, and his brow furrowed.

"Just what?"

You hesitated, a lump forming in your throat.

"What?" He repeated, pulling back to look you in the eye. "Please tell me."

You took a deep breath, swallowed the lump, and looked him in the eye.

"It's just that... You’re my not-alone buddy, remember?”

Midoriya froze, his eyes widening.

It was a little game you two had back when things weren’t so complicated. Back when you were just normal students.

You both struggled to make friends, so you made a pact. Obviously, that thought disbanded when everyone else got close, and now you all were pretty good friends, but the friendship between him and you was different. It was a bond between you two that was just special.

Not even ‘Kacchan’ could ruin that, as close as he and Midoriya grew.

You never called him Deku, even after Bakugo and the rest of the class started calling him by the nickname. Sure, it was his hero name, and you could call him that, but you just never felt comfortable.

Todoroki didn’t either, but then again, Todoroki didn't call anyone by their nicknames.

But, back to the point.

"We made a pact, and... that was one of the things I wrote on the sticky notes." You gestured to the book. "It was during my angry denial phase, so I’m not that proud of it, but… it was still true."

"You were angry?" He asked, confused. "Why?"

"Well, first of all, I was worried sick. I knew you were going to go do something stupid, and obviously, I was right.”

He winced at that.

"But I was angry because you didn’t trust me, and I felt like you were leaving me, too," you said, biting your lip. "I know that sounds stupid and selfish, and I get that this was your battle, not mine, and I can't change that, but... I guess I was just scared. You didn’t even tell me before you left, and the note was just..."

You trailed off, a lump forming in your throat again, and your eyes burned with tears.

You didn't want to cry in front of him, so you buried your face in his chest again, and his grip tightened around you.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

You shook your head. "Don’t apologize. It's not like you're changing your mind."

He was quiet for a moment, his head lowering and his lips resting on your forehead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Your breath hitched. "Izuku, please don't say it."

He pulled back, and his face was unreadable. He looked determined, his eyes burning with passion, and it hurt. It hurt to know that, despite everything, he still had his mind made up.

"I have to go," he said, and his voice was quiet. "I don’t want to leave you alone. I really don’t, but I have to, and you need to stay safe. Me being here isn't doing anything good, and I can't keep coming back and putting you in danger. So, for now, at least until the Shigaraki is dealt with, please just be safe. Don’t try and find me, and please don't let anyone else know I was here."

He paused, his eyes glancing towards the window.

"Actually, I might come back just to get rid of that lock. I mean, seriously, I barely even touched it, and it came right off. You could easily replace it with something stronger, maybe one of those new locks that only respond to fingerprints! But, then it can be traced back to you, and they can use you to— oh, man, I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

You didn't bother to respond. Instead, you leaned up, pressing your lips against his cheek.

Midoriya's entire face went bright red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

You could feel your face burning, but it was worth it to see his reaction.

"Be careful," you said. "Please, Izu, don’t be stupid."

"R-Right."

He stumbled a bit, his hand coming up to touch the spot where your lips were. His eyes flickered back to you, and you swore you saw him blushing, but then he turned, heading towards the window.

"Oh, uhm, b-by the way," he said, reaching the window. He placed his hand on the frame, glancing back at you. "For Aizawa's essay, you have to also analyze the strengths and weaknesses, not just the evolution of quirks. Make sure to read the whole paragraph in that book he gave us at the beginning of the semester."

He gave you one last smile, pulling the mask over his mouth and the hood over his head. You looked in befuddlement as he stepped out onto the roof, and your hands were wrapped around the edges of the open window.

"How did you—"

"It's Aizawa," His mask was muffling his voice, so he lifted it up a bit, and his eyes twinkled. "What else do you expect from him?"

And then he jumped.

He let the mask drop back down and became just another shadow in the night, with his green lightning trailing behind him.

You didn’t have the energy to laugh, and you didn't have the heart.

You leaned against the windowsill, letting the cool night air wash over your face. You sighed, watching the clouds drift in the sky.

"You're still an idiot," you whispered, closing your eyes.

When the sun rises, this encounter will only be a distant memory.

But for now, the cold night was enough to convince you otherwise. For now, his green eyes were staring up at the same night sky, and he was thinking of you, too.

That kiss on the cheek, as tame as it was, was still enough to make his head spin. You were still his friend, his not-alone buddy, and nothing was going to change that.

And you both were okay with that.

[gothcsz]

part nine of the neighbors series. i just had to write this... it was too good of a thought to keep just in my head! javier going back to helena after you rightfully tell him to get lost for standing you up. he's not into it but decides to fuck her anyways?! this man and his unhealthy coping mechanism: sex. smh. this takes place after part seven 🖤

javier peña x f!reader. ~1.5k word count. spanish heavy (translated), s m u t, honestly javi just comes with his own warning at this point, angst (as always)

Javier winces as the door to your apartment shuts in his face, the sound echoing louder than it should in the quiet hallway. He stands there for a long moment, his heart lodged firmly in his throat as guilt churns in his stomach.

He’d known, from the moment you opened the door in that beautiful dress, that he’d made a colossal mistake. He’s not sure how the fuck he’s going to make things right between you.

He sighs deeply, dragging a hand down his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. The way you masked the hurt he caused with dismissiveness and a sharp, cutting comment before turning him away somehow stung worse than if you’d just yelled at him.

His feet feel heavy as he trudges back to his apartment, the guilt following him like a shadow. 

When he opens the door, Helena is there, sprawled comfortably on his couch with her legs crossed and a glass of whiskey in hand. She looks up, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she watches him close the door behind him with a slow, almost reluctant motion.

“Eso fue rápido,” (That was fast) she comments, “¿Todo bien?” (Everything okay?) she tilts her head slightly, her gaze curious but not overly concerned.

Javier stands at the threshold of his sunken living room, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his thoughts. He doesn’t answer immediately, too busy replaying the image of you in his mind.

She sets the glass down and stands, closing the distance between them.“Puedo ver el conflicto en tus ojos, Javi. ¿Tu vecina te gritó o que?” (I can see the conflict in your eyes, Javi. Did your neighbor bitch at you or something?) she teases, resting her hands on his shoulders before letting her fingers curl into the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

Her touch pulls him out of his thoughts momentarily. “No,” he replies, his tone low, “Pero me porte como un culero y me siento mal por como la trate.” (But I acted like an asshole and I feel bad about how I treated her)

She raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking into an amused smile. “You’re an asshole to everyone,” she says lightly, brushing a kiss along his jaw.

He scoffs, his frown deepening. “¿Qué? No hagas ese ruido—sabes que tengo razón.” (What? Don’t make that noise—you know I’m right) she chimes in as she continues with her affectionate touches. 

Normally, he’d lean into it, let her distract him the way she always does. But tonight, it feels hollow, like a cheap salve for a wound cut too deep.

She notices his hesitance, pausing as she cups his face in her hands. “Nunca he visto a nadie tan interesado en lo que hace su vecina. Should I be worried about her?” (I’ve never seen anyone so into what his neighbor is doing) she’s half-teasing as her gaze searches his face for an answer, but Javier avoids it, the hesitation clear in his brown eyes even as he tries to shrug it off.

“No,” he attempts to be nonchalant with his reply, “Solamente tengo ojos para ti, hermosa.” (I only have eyes for you, beautiful) His hand slips down to grip her ass, trying to redirect the moment, trying to bury the ache of guilt beneath something physical.

She narrows her eyes slightly, skeptical but willing to let it slide. “No mientas, Javier,” (Don’t lie) she murmurs. “Tengo suficiente de eso con todos los hombres en mi vida.” (I get enough of that from all the other men in my life)

Instead of responding, he leans in and kisses her, rough and insistent. She doesn’t push for more answers, letting him take what he needs, but she doesn’t miss the edge of hindrance in his touch.

“Si necesitas hablar de algo, sabes que aquí estoy,” (If you need to talk about something, you know I’m here) she says softly, more serious now as their lips brush together.

“Me ayudas más cuando no hablas,” (You help me more when you don't talk) he mutters before pulling her closer. She nips at his bottom lip, and it’s enough to spark the familiar lust between them.

Urgent touches, clothes discarded in a trail to the couch, and soon they’re a tangled mess with a throw blanket lazily thrown over their bodies.

She sinks down onto him, her lips on his neck as she whispers dirty encouragements against his skin.

It feels good—sex with Helena always does—but it’s different tonight.

No matter how tightly he shuts his eyes, no matter how hard he digs his fingers into her hips to ground himself, his mind keeps drifting back to you. To the way your lips trembled just slightly before you masked it, to the look in your eyes when you told him to ‘have fun vetting his lead.’

“Javi…” Helena’s airy moan pulls him back briefly, the clench of her around him sending a spark up his spine. He leans in to kiss her, messy and urgent, but it’s not to deepen their connection—it’s to keep her quiet.

The last thing he wants is for you to hear this, for you to know just how badly he’s handled things tonight.

Large hands move around to knead at her ass, guiding her movements, but his touch lacks its usual fervor.

The thought of you fills every corner of his mind even as he tries to lose himself in her. Your excitement that day by the fountain, the shy smile as you invited him out, and the way that smile disappeared the moment you saw him walk in with Helena.

And when her orgasm begins to crest and she’s shuddering around him, he barely notices, too consumed by the ache in his chest that no amount of physical release can fix.

She notices. She always does. Her rhythm falters slightly as she leans closer, her lips skimming his ear. “Pareces distraído.” (You seem distracted)

“Estoy bien,” (I’m fine) he growls, “Sigue moviéndote así.” (Just keep moving like that)

For the sake of not ruining this moment, she says nothing else, though he can feel the slight hesitation in her movements before she settles back into the pace he’s been guiding her toward.

Her breath hitches, her fingers tangling in his hair as she rides him, and he leans his head back against the couch, letting his eyes fall shut again.

It still doesn’t help.

Helena’s nails rake lightly down his chest, and he shivers, but it’s not desire that ripples through him—it’s frustration. With himself. With this situation. With the way he’s here, with a beautiful woman in his lap, and all he can think about is how badly he’s screwed things up with you.

Even as he drives her to her peak, there’s no satisfaction in it for him. His body is moving on autopilot, chasing a release that feels more like an obligation than a need.

When he finally comes, her name is the last thing on his mind. Yours, however, lingers at the tip of his tongue, threatening to lash out.

He bites it back, swallowing hard as she digs her nails into the skin of his shoulders, a guttural groan muffled against her neck, his hands clutching her ass like she’s the only thing tethering him to this moment of fleeting pleasure. 

The instant it’s over, he feels heavier than before, the guilt settling back over him like a dense fog that refuses to lift.

Helena collapses against his chest, her breath warm and uneven against his neck. She’s still for a few seconds, and then she lifts her head, her dark eyes searching his face.

“¿Seguro que estás bien?” (Are you sure you’re okay?) she asks softly, concern threading through her voice.

Javier exhales sharply, avoiding her gaze as he gently shifts her off of him. “Estoy bien,” (I’m fine) he repeats for what feels like the millionth time, his words clipped. He stands, grabbing his discarded jeans from the floor and pulling them on hastily.

She watches him in silence, wrapping the blanket around her naked form, unspoken questions hanging in the air. He can feel her studying him, trying to piece together the puzzle of his distraction, but he doesn’t have the energy to reassure her. Not tonight.

He grabs the carton of cigarettes and lighter from the coffee table, his movements practiced, almost automatic. The flick of the lighter illuminates his face briefly before the glow fades, the cigarette catching with a faint crackle. He takes a deep drag, smoke filling his lungs before he exhales, watching it swirl toward the ceiling.

“¿Te vas a quedar?” (Are you staying?)

She doesn’t answer right away, licking her lips. “No. Tengo otros planes.” (No. I have other plans)

Relief floods through him, and for the first time since they started hooking up, he’s okay with her walking out the door. He nods, tapping ash into the tray on the table.

“Bueno entonces, cuidate. Here,” (Well then, take care) holding the cigarette between his lips, he fishes his leather wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out a wad of cash, walking over and holding it out to her.

Her eyes drop to the money, her expression tightening. “Javi, ya te he dicho como me siento con esto.” (Javi, I’ve already told you how I feel about this)

“¿Qué?” He shrugs, speaking around the cigarette between his teeth. “Te estoy pagando como lo hacen todos los demás.” (What? I’m paying you like everyone else does)

“No eres como los demás.” (You’re not like the others)

They lock eyes, the tension between them heavy and tangible. His exasperation simmers, then bubbles over. He tosses the money onto the coffee table with a thud.

“Entonces no lo tomes. Me vale madre.” (Then don’t take it. I don’t give a damn)

Helena stands, redressing and stepping into her heels. Javier finishes his cigarette with slow drags as she collects her things. She swipes the cash on her way out, crumpling it in her fist.

“¿Ves lo que te dije? Eres un culero con todos.” (See what I told you? You’re an asshole to everyone)

He doesn’t flinch but his jaw flexes, a muscle ticking as he watches her brush past him, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

She stops at the door, one hand resting on the knob as she glances back at him. “No sé qué está pasando entre tú y tu vecina, pero necesitas arreglarlo porque odio cuando actúas así.”  (I don’t know what's going on between you and your neighbor, but you need to straighten it out because I hate it when you act like this)

With that, she unlocks the door and leaves, leaving him standing there in his living room, now feeling worse than he did before and he has no one to blame but himself.

He stares at the spot where she stood, the remnants of her perfume lingering faintly in the air. He doesn’t move for a long moment, caught in the crossroads of her parting words.

Finally, he curses under his breath and heads to the bathroom. The cool tile beneath his feet as he flips on the light, the hum of the fluorescent bulb filling the room. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edges so tightly—his knuckles go white.

The faucet sputters to life with a twist of his wrist, and he splashes cold water onto his face, droplets streaking down his cheeks and dripping onto his bare chest. It does nothing to clear the haze in his head.

When he looks up into the mirror, the man staring back at him looks just as wrecked as he feels.

This isn’t sustainable and he knows it. He can’t keep making a mess of every little thing in his life, can’t keep masking his despair with sex, whiskey, and cigarettes.

But knowing is one thing. Doing is another.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @persephone-girl . @magneticecstasy . @thundermartini . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @almostfoxglove . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @phry-k . @larascorneroftheworld . @marisemonteiroo . @samanthajonees . @yellowbrickyeti . @bambisweethearts . @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack . @picketniffler . @itwasntimethatdidit40 . @94namkooksworld . @prose-before-hoes . @dontlookatme121 . @cherrysugarx . @half-moon16 . @dinanabuu . @sunshinefive . @angiewatson .

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Could you write about stan or Ford taking care of their sick s/o? I've been suffering from an awful head cold this past week and it sucks i could really use the comfort 😭

sick days with Stan & Ford (x reader)

a/n: starting with smth sfw while i work on… other things hehehhe but I hope you’ll feel better! take your meds and let yourself rest 💌 and thank u for the ask, anon!!

Stanford Pines

the kind of man who fights interdimensional monsters but still worries if your tea is the right temperature.

he tucks you onto the couch, fussing over pillows and blankets until you’re buried like some kind of marshmallow. then he disappears into the kitchen, where you can hear pots clanging and. . . is that the blender?

when he returns, he’s holding a tray with a bowl of soup, a glass of water, and a strange concoction that’s vaguely green.

“head cold or not, you need fluids. hydration is important,” he says, setting a mug of something herbal-smelling on the coffee table. “this tea is from the forests of dimension 52. the locals swear by it for respiratory ailments.”

you squint at the mug. “it’s not gonna. . . mutate me, right?”

Ford pauses, adjusting his glasses. “probably not.”

“Ford!”

he chuckles, sitting beside you with a soft sigh. “it’s perfectly safe, i’ve tested it. besides, you trust me, don’t you?”

and of course you do, even when his idea of “helping” involves interdimensional remedies that could very well grow you a third arm.

you take a tentative sip. the taste is weird, but soothing, warming you from the inside out.

“good?” he asks, watching your face expression.

“yeah,” you admit, sinking deeper into the blanket. “not bad.”

satisfied or at least faking this, he leans back, but that little crinkle in his brow never really goes away.

“you’re overthinking again,” you notice, looking at him.

“i am not,” he says, entirely unconvincing.

“Ford.”

he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “i just hate seeing you like this, i keep thinking there must be something more i can do.”

you reach out, tangling your fingers with his. “you’re doing enough, really, just stay with me, okay?”

Ford’s expression softens and he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“always.” and he stays, reading to you from one of his journals while you drift in and out of sleep. his voice is calm, comforting and every so often, he pauses to carefully check your temperature.

Stan Pines

you wake up with your throat feeling like sandpaper and your head pounding. you barely have the energy to groan, let alone drag yourself out of bed, but the world outside your room is loud. voices from the tv, Stan’s yelling at it.

with blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you stumble out and see Stan sprawled on the armchair in his striped boxers and tank top, he’s shoving popcorn into his mouth by the handful, but when he sees you, he nearly chokes on it.

“jeez, you look like somethin’ the cat dragged in. worse than waddles after he found that mud pit last week.”

you sniffle. “thanks for the pep talk, Stan.”

he waves you over as his tone softens. “c’mon, c’mere. what’s wrong? flu? cold? bubonic plague? don’t tell me you’re contagious.”

you plop next to him, dropping your head onto his shoulder. the tv’s too loud, but you can’t even complain about it.

“it’s just a cold,” you murmur. 

“cold, huh? well, that’s nothing to mess with,” you can hear the tease in his voice. “lemme get my doctor bag. got some snake oil in there that cures everything, even bad attitudes.”

he shuffles off to the kitchen, muttering about needing to find some ginger ale. he comes back with a mug of tea that looks. . . questionable. is that a bay leaf? and a handful of mints?

“drink this, kid, don’t ask questions.”

you sip and it’s awful. Stan grins as you make grimace. “told ya it’s magic. now, get cozy.”

he turns the tv down and drapes his old, scratchy afghan over you. you don’t know when it happens, maybe during some ridiculous commercial for glow-in-the-dark socks, but you fall asleep with your head still on his shoulder.

when you wake up, the tea’s gone, replaced by a cup of melted ice cream with a sticky spoon, meanwhile Stan is snoring loudly with his arm protectively thrown over you.

[angelpregdreams]

"Darlin'."

content: fpreg, vaguely-mentioned pregnancy sex, labor, fpreg birth, 1st person pov a hint of cowboy flavoring, a la croix of the wild west

wc: 2800+

tip jar

“Sloan!” 

A voice called out my name behind me, and I released a sigh as they continued to yell, even as they came closer, “c’mon, woman, just be honest with me!” 

My feet paused their stomping, and I turned in the direction I knew him to be coming from.

“There’s nothing to be honest about!” I shouted back, an annoyed huff leaving me as I crossed my arms over my chest. The action made my nipples sting at the friction and I angrily dropped my arms down. I gave Sterling a glare as he came into view, which he calmly raised his hands up in surrender in response. 

“Fuck, nothing to be honest about?” Sterling muttered, his dark brows raised incredulously. “Are you serious?” 

Shaking my head, I felt tears pool in my eyes at his raised voice, I hated when he spoke down to me. His fucking accent made him sound even more condescending, which only served to infuriate me more. I grumbled unhappily, angry at myself for the tears and for him being annoying, “just leave me alone! You’ve been badgering me for the last five miles, Sterling, it’s getting old.”

He gave me a hard stare, slowly lowering his arms as his eyes flicked over my face - catching my tears. Sterling sighed and beckoned me closer to him. 

“C’mere darling,” his voice was softer now, more like his normal tone with me, it made me choke on a sob, “I know. That’s it, I know about…”

He trailed off and I tensed, my own eyes flicking over his form as I felt my chest heave with a gasp, trying to catch the breath that just left me. My suspicions confirmed with his own speculation. I had to be pregnant, there was no explaining my recent changes other than pregnancy. 

Sterling continued, coming closer to me and finally slipping an arm around my waist, “the baby, Sloan. It’s not exactly something we can ignore…and you know that.” 

I did. Doing our job while I'm pregnant would not be safe, for me or for our little one. More tears fell over my cheeks as I buried my head against his broad chest, crying softly. I didn’t want my life to change but I knew what I had to do. 

He was supportive, as we traveled back home and we made the decision for me to remain on our homestead. His support never waned even when I got angry and sobbed for hours about him having to leave me like this. We would need to continue our work, regardless of my pregnancy, and bounty hunting wasn’t exactly safe for me now.

Once we returned to our homestead, Sterling took our horses to our barn, telling me to go inside, and tend to the house. The bed needed dressing and the fire started. I bit my tongue to keep a retort about sending me inside like a housewife, my eyes rolling nearly out of my head as I stomped towards our small home. He joined me once I finished the bed and began my work on the fire. His quiet footsteps came up behind me, and I gasped when he placed a hand on my back. With the tension between us on the ride here, I wasn’t expecting his touch. 

It was still comforting.

“Sloan…” Sterling started, and I sighed as he continued, “darling-”

I cut him off by turning and planting my lips on his, shutting him up and finding comfort at the same time. We spent the night together in our bed, warmed by a fire, eating our meager food that we had kept while we were away. 

He stayed only for a week, and soon, I was alone. For the foreseeable future, I would be alone and my heart began to feel heavy, soon after Sterling left. Going about my household chores and work on the homestead was easy enough, but I still hated how quiet it was here by myself. My horse was my only company and I spent as much time as I could with her, even taking long detours as we went to and from the only town nearby. Which was its own issue, when I entered the town for the first time. 

Those that knew me by my work with Sterling were kind, but still standoffish, disliking me on the principle. I had gotten used to being looked down upon for my line of work, but it still stung. Maybe it was the change of my brain with a baby growing in my belly, my mother mentioned she forgot nearly everything in her early months and cried every time she did. 

I kept my tears to myself, feeling the sting of loneliness, until I was with my mare, Willow, and we were far, far away from civilization. Sterling and I had no friends here, even after our work for the local sheriff. He was likely to be the kindest to either of us, but I didn’t wish to strain that relationship by overstaying my welcome in town. 

Riding with Willow became harder as I got sicker, then I began to gain a sizable swell around my middle and it inhibited me from even getting in the saddle without some difficulty. The months passed with little excitement. 

I hated it. 

Sterling did make a stop here or there, when his travel brought him close to home every month, give or take a week or two, and showered me with affection and gifts. His hands traveled my new body, mumbling his amazement at the changes every time, and telling me how absolutely divine I was. It was adorable and helped my self-image. I felt heavy and slower than normal. Mentally and physically, I felt slower, the baby taking more and more of myself with every passing day. Sterling didn’t seem to care though, when he was home he waited on me hand and foot. ‘Making up for lost time,’ was what he told me. I would relent and let him, enjoying the attention and his fussing. His tender touch on my swollen belly made my heart flutter for him as it had on our wedding day. 

He was due to leave again tomorrow morning, but for now, he clung to my body as if I would fade away if not held down by him. We laid in bed and listened to the rain hit the metal roof above us. The fire was dim, but not dying, so we lingered comfortably together, dozing in and out of sleep. 

Sterling’s hand strayed over my hip and I smiled, keeping my eyes closed. His touch was intoxicating, and I pressed into his grip, catching his breathy chuckle before his lips pressed against my skin just under my belly button. 

“Perfection,” he mumbled, utterly transfixed. Sterling continued to pepper my belly with kisses, taking a pause only to finish his thought, “perfect and mine.”

My husband devoured me then, his lips and tongue delving between my legs and into my slick heat. His facial hair tickled my thighs and I sighed happily as he showed his devotion, fully lost to every sensation he gave me. Tomorrow Sterling would ride off again, but for now, he was nestled between my legs, one hand on my thigh and the other over where our little one rested in my belly. 

The night passed by too fast. He said his goodbyes, lingering for longer than he should have, not letting me out of his grip until he finally had to leave. He rode off on his own mare, and I stared after them for a time. The baby in me shifted and pressed against my bladder, making me grunt and rub my hand over my belly. 

“Don’t act up because your father’s gone.” I mumbled, returning to bed for a bit more rest. 

Sterling didn’t return the next month. As I continued to grow, crawling closer to my time, worry made me ill - more than once. It wasn’t out of the question for him to be sidetracked or taking more time to travel, but the worry still made me return to the comfort of our bed throughout the day often. 

A lot of the chores fell into disarray, my only constant was making sure Willow was fed and watered. My massive middle made moving difficult, doing anything that wasn’t necessary was asking too much of myself. At one point, I began to wear only my thin cotton nightgown, even while outside, not caring to get dressed if there was nobody around. It also made coming and going from bed easier. 

It was late in the evening when I felt the first contractions. I was waiting for Sterling in the rocking chair he had bought when we moved here when I felt it. My hands rubbed over my middle, taking a deep breath as I realized I was effectively alone for the foreseeable future. Meaning I would have to deliver on my own. 

My throat felt tight, and I struggled to relax my muscles as a few moments passed and the pain disappeared. Tears pooled in my eyes and I cried as my labor started. 

I tried to climb into bed and rest, trying to mentally prepare myself for this. I also couldn’t help but pray for Sterling to return, so I wasn’t alone, but I knew it would prove fruitless. The cross that hung from my neck offered little comfort as I clutched it, breathing in as a pain wrapped its way around my belly. A grunt left me as I rolled over onto my hands and knees, this pain lasting longer than the last few.

“Nughhh.” I moaned, trying to rock myself through the painful gripping of my womb. A weight had slowly begun to move down with this pain and I felt my hips ache as they adjusted for the head of my baby slid down. 

Arching my back, my huge belly rubbing against the bedding as I continued to moan through the pain, rocking and moaning. In the back of my mind, I had some shame acting like this, moving like this, it felt brazen. That thought was pushed away as the pain seemed to peak and I cried out loudly, the weight of a boulder pressing against my pelvis. 

Faintly, I became aware of the patter of rain on our roof, a storm settling in overhead as my labor progressed. 

A split second after I caught the sound of the rain, I felt a huge shift in pressure, my womanhood aching from the inside. I swore in pain, rocking again, as the pressure continued to build. Tears burned my eyes, and I felt my hips strain. There was no relief from the pressure, even as I moved back and forth. The child in me moved and made me gasp, stilling my movements. 

The pain and pressure made my mind hazy, but I was aware of my body rejecting this position, I had to move. 

Slowly, and pausing for several long moments every time I had a pain, I was able to scoot off the edge of the bed, dropping into a deep squat. Fully leaning against the side of the bed as I reached down and tugged my nightgown up and off of my sweating body. I felt hot, everything felt too warm. My womanhood most of all. 

I cried out with another contraction, the squat making the pressure ease some, but the pain remained constant. My vagina hurt, it burned, it felt like the boulder between my legs was stretching my hole apart as slowly as it possibly could. 

The rain outside picked up, the sound of thunder greeting my ears as I dropped my head onto the soft bedding with a cry. The pressure returned and unable to release it, I simply bore down with everything I had in a big push. I screamed loudly in pain. 

A soft sound accompanied the sudden release of pressure, then settling into a deeper ache between my folds. The release of pressure was then followed by the sound of a gush of fluid hitting the wooden floor, and instantly, I knew what happened. 

Unable to help myself, I let out a breathless laugh, the noise turning into a moan as a contraction grew around my tight belly. My hips burned, my pussy starting to bulge and I felt every inch of the child slip closer to entering the world. I cried out, sobbing as the burn in my womanhood spread to my folds. The weight of the child was just as painful, but I was suddenly grateful I moved when I did. There was no way I could even think of moving from this position now.

I pushed again, my body trembling as I strained to urge my child from me. My pussy felt too warm, like someone had held a candle to it, and I couldn’t help the fat tears that rolled over my cheeks and onto the bedding. With a tight grip, I wrapped my hands in the blankets, my knuckles quickly turning white as I pushed once again. 

“Sloan!”

My breath caught in my throat, moan cut midway, as my heart thudded painfully in my ears. That was… “Sterling…” I breathed, my throat sore, but my body quickly reminded me that our child sat at my entrance. I groaned again, barely able to choke out, “...baby…coming…”

“Sloan!” 

I heard him again, but I couldn’t respond again, my body urging me to push. I felt the spread of my folds, the head bulging me outwards painfully. 

The door slammed open, the sound of thunder accompanying the noise, and I heard Sterling’s boots on the floor. 

His hands were on my shoulders, free of his gloves, and rubbed gently. He whispered, “I’m here, dearest, I’m here.” 

I sobbed again, unsure if it was from his sudden support, or from the pain, but it mattered little. I pulled my head up from the bed, groaning as I pushed with a new contraction. The head spread me apart, my folds pulled tight around it as it slowly emerged. 

Behind me, Sterling cooed at me softly and rubbed my shoulders and hips, trying to ground me as I fought with my body with each push. I caught the sound of him shifting several times, his spurs jingling with the slightest bit of movement. It was distracting, if only for a few seconds. 

The head continued to crown, very slowly, as I pushed several more times. I tossed my head back and groaned, the head holding me spread apart as I felt the child wiggle in the birth canal. Gasping, I lifted my head, and grabbed a new fistful of bedding.

“The baby…! Catch…the baby…!” I warned Sterling, feeling the sudden, painful urge to push again. I gritted my teeth and bore down, my squat deepening as far as it could go. I felt Sterling’s hands leave my hips and he obeyed my request as I felt one of his hands brush against my swollen and bulging pussy. He gasped, feeling the head at its widest point in me as I pushed as hard as I could. 

The head slipped out, making me release the push with a gasp. More dribbling of fluid hit the floor and then I heard Sterling’s sharp intake of breath. I felt his fingers prod around my opening, making me pant, but he pressed a kiss to my shoulder, silently telling me to continue.

With the next contraction I pushed, it was only for a split second before I felt the babe wiggle in me again. I screamed loudly, continuing to push as the pain seemed to linger for far longer than before. The baby lurched downward, falling into Sterling’s hands as I continued to push, the rest of the baby falling out of me with a spill of fluid. 

I dropped my head down onto the bed and released the sheets, shakily falling to my knees as Sterling brought the baby to and around to my chest. I lifted myself up and pulled the child close to my chest, weeping when I saw my baby, her own cries sharp and strong. She was perfect.

“We have a girl,” Sterling whispered to me softly, his voice turned watery. “A baby girl.”

I wiped her face, her cries continuing as I felt more tears spill over my cheeks. “Oh, she’s everything.” I said, softly. She was everything. 

Sterling kissed the top of my head, pressing his lips close to my ear and whispering - just for me, “you did amazing, Sloan.”

I leaned against him, wrapping our girl in a blanket and bringing her back as close as possible to me. I couldn’t ask for anything else - my life now felt complete, wrapped in Sterling’s embrace and holding our newborn daughter.

[msriri030]

Mafia!Ren/ [Redacted] x Reader

TW: mention and brief scene Abuse, slight mention of murder.

The night air was cold and heavy, each step you took down the dimly lit street weighed down by the lingering dread of what awaited you at home. You kept your head down, hands buried in your pockets, hoping, praying that tonight might be different—that your dad would be passed out, or maybe out drinking somewhere, anything to keep him away from you for just a few hours. But deep down, you knew he was there. He was always there, waiting for the next excuse to unleash his anger, fueled by the alcohol that twisted his thoughts into rage.

He would shout, throwing out slurs and curses, blaming your mother for leaving him, accusing her of destroying the family. You understood why she left—he was a monster to her. But what you couldn’t understand, what tore at your heart every time you thought about it, was why she left you behind. Why had she left you to fend for yourself with him?

These questions haunted you, but tonight, you pushed them away. Survival was all that mattered. You just needed to keep going, one more shift, one more day, until you had enough money to get out. You were so close. Just a little longer.

You quickened your pace as you neared home, bracing yourself for whatever was behind that door. The sounds of traffic and the city faded into the background as you got lost in your thoughts, barely noticing that you were walking straight into oncoming traffic until strong hands grabbed your arm, pulling you back with surprising force.

"Watch out, miss," a deep voice said with a small smile. "I don’t like seeing a pretty angel walking into traffic."

You blinked, stunned, and glanced up to find a large man standing beside you, concern etched on his face. “Giant… I—I’m sorry, how rude of me. Thank you for saving me, Mr...?”

"Mr. Ren," he replied with a grin, his voice calm and assured. "Just Ren is fine. And you are?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to trust him, but there was something in his steady gaze that put you at ease. “(First name)… (Last name).”

Ren raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Wait, (Last name)? Is... is (your father’s name) your husband?"

Your face flushed with a mix of surprise and frustration. “NO! He’s my father.” You quickly added, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.” You paused for a second before offering hesitantly, “Why don’t I treat you to something? As a thank you, you know, for saving me?”

He chuckled softly, nodding. "A coffee sounds perfect. Just to keep you safe a little longer."

You nodded, a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips. There was something in his presence—calming, strong—that made the coldness of the night feel less oppressive. Together, you walked to a nearby diner, its neon lights casting a soft, inviting glow in the darkness.

Once inside, you settled across from Ren. The warm atmosphere of the diner contrasted sharply with the cold night outside, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you could breathe. Ren ordered two coffees, and as the two of you sat there, you couldn’t help but take in more of his appearance: the black hair tipped with pink, the piercings that glinted under the soft light, the tattoos that peeked out from under his sleeves and shirt collar. But it was his hands that caught your attention—scarred and calloused, like someone who had fought their own battles. The kind of hands that felt familiar in a way you couldn’t quite place.

"Something on your mind, angel?" Ren’s voice broke the silence. His eyes were kind, but there was an edge to them, as if he knew there was something more behind your guarded expression. “What made you so lost in thought that you didn’t see the cars?”

You hesitated, tracing the rim of your coffee cup with your finger, unsure of how much to say. "Just… life, I guess," you replied softly. "It’s been a little heavy."

Ren nodded, his gaze softening, understanding without needing more words. "Life can be a lot sometimes," he said quietly. "But it doesn’t stay dark forever. Even the longest nights end."

Your heart tightened at his words, an unexpected wave of warmth washing over you. “Thank you,” you whispered, feeling a flicker of hope in your chest.

You spent the next hour in easy conversation, the kind that allowed you to forget about the weight of the world for a while. When you finally checked the time, you realized it was late, and the reality of your situation rushed back.

Ren seemed to notice the shift in your demeanor. “Do you need someone to walk you home?” he asked, his voice gentle but insistent.

You hesitated, looking down the street toward the house that still felt like a prison. The thought of facing your father alone, of being caught in that cycle again, made your stomach twist with dread. “If you don’t mind…”

He smiled and stood, offering his hand. “Not at all, angel.”

You blushed, taking his hand.

The walk to your house was quiet, but for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel suffocating. Ren’s presence beside you, strong and steady, made the night feel less dark, less frightening. When you reached the door, your heart sank as you heard your father’s drunken voice spilling out from inside. The slurred words, the anger, the madness—it was all too familiar.

You turned to Ren, forcing a weak smile onto your face. “Thank you, Ren. I—I hope—”

Before you could finish, the door slammed open with a violent crash. Your father stood in the doorway, his wild eyes landing on you before narrowing in fury. He shoved you hard, sending you falling backward. Your back hit the floor with a painful thud, the wind knocked out of you. 

“YOU USELESS BRAT!” he shouted, his voice full of venom and alcohol.

You gasped, struggling to breathe as his boot slammed down on your chest, pressing all the air out of your lungs. Desperately, You clawed at his leg. You tried to push his foot off, but his weight was crushing.

“You think you can just come and go as you please?” he sneered, each word a dagger. “You’re just like your mother—always running off. Always a disappointment!”

You bit back the tears threatening to spill, your hands trembling as you still were trying to pry his foot off. The words cut deeper than his blows ever could, but you refused to cry in front of him. You wouldn’t give this man that satisfaction of breaking you.

Then, like a storm crashing through the door, Ren’s voice rang out, cold and deadly. “(Last name). Get. OFF. Her.”

You barely had time to process the change in the air before Ren was there, his massive frame a shadow over your father. He stood like a wall, his presence intimidating, overwhelming, as if the very air around him shifted with authority.

Your father, drunk and staggering, turned to face Ren, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable. “Who the hell are you?” he slurred, his bravado fading quickly. “This isn’t your business…”

Ren didn’t let him finish. Without a word, he grabbed your father by the shirt and effortlessly lifted him off the ground, holding him with one hand. Your father’s eyes widened in terror, the drunken fog clearing just enough to see who was standing in front of him. “Mr. [Redacted]!” Your father whimpered, his voice shaking. “Please! I didn’t mean any disrespect! I’ll pay back the money, I swear!”

Ren tossed him aside like he was nothing more than a nuisance, his cold eyes never leaving your father. “You disrespected me when you laid a hand on my angel,” Ren hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “If I ever see you even breathing the same air as my angel, I am afraid you won’t live long enough to regret it.”

Your father crumbled, falling to the ground as Ren released him with a final shove. He fell back against the wall, eyes wide, too terrified to move.

Ren turned to you then, his expression softening as he crouched down to meet your gaze. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, your chest aching from both the pain and the overwhelming sense of relief. “I… I think so.”

He reached out, offering his hand to help you up. “You’re not staying here,” Ren said firmly, glancing back at your father, who was still crumpled in a heap against the wall. “Let’s go.”

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, your heart racing as you grabbed your bag and followed Ren out the door. As you stepped into the cool night air with him by your side, you realized that for the first time in a long while, you weren’t just surviving. You were escaping. And maybe, just maybe, you were finally free….Or entering a new cage. 

[ducktoo]

So this is how it ends

Lee Chaeyeon x Reader

Note: wishing her the best in her recovery fr. Popping the disc is damn painful TT

A bit short and more melodramatic this time.

The apartment felt…too quiet. Too still.

For a moment, you wish the hum of the refrigerator or the faint ticking of the wall clock could drown out the silence hanging between you and Chaeyeon.

She sits across from you on the worn gray couch, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as if she's holding herself together. Her eyes are on the coffee table—avoiding you. The small, shaking breaths she takes tell you that this isn't going to end well.

“Chaeyeon-ah” you murmur, breaking the silence.

Her shoulders flinch. Slowly, she lifts her gaze to meet yours, and it stings. It stings because you know that look—the one where her brown eyes lose their sparkle, turning dull like they’re bracing for impact.

“I think… I think we should break up,” she whispers.

The words come out so softly, so hesitantly, it takes your brain a second to catch up.

Break up?

“W-What?” Your voice comes out hoarse, barely audible.

Chaeyeon squeezes her hands tighter, her knuckles turning white. “We’ve talked about this before. IZ*ONE… It's done. The group’s gone, and I—I need to focus on my solo career. I can’t… I can’t do that and keep this going.”

“This?” The word tastes bitter on your tongue. You stare at her, searching her face for any sign that she’s joking—that this is some cruel prank. “Chaeyeon-ah, we’ve been together for years. You can’t just—”

“I have to.” Her voice cracks. You see the tears brimming in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. She looks away again, blinking rapidly. “It’s not fair to you. I’ll be too busy to give you what you deserve.”

You let out a humourless laugh, though there’s no smile to accompany it. “So you’re deciding this for me? Like I wouldn’t understand? Like I wouldn’t choose to support you?”

“It’s not about understanding,” she snaps suddenly, and the sharpness surprises you both. Her chest rises and falls as she struggles to keep her emotions in check. “I need to do this alone. I have to. I need to prove myself, and I can’t keep being distracted—”

“I’m a distraction?” you interrupt, your voice trembling.

Her lips press into a thin line. She doesn’t answer.

The silence is unbearable now, heavier than before. You swallow the lump in your throat and run a hand through your hair, trying to process the mess of emotions twisting inside you—hurt, anger, confusion. You want to yell, to fight back, to say something that will make her change her mind. But when you look at her—Chaeyeon, sitting there with her tear-streaked face and trembling hands—you can’t.

You exhale shakily, leaning back against the couch. “So that’s it?”

She nods, barely. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that,” you mutter bitterly. “Don’t apologize if you’re the one walking away.”

Chaeyeon flinches again, and for a split second, you see it—regret. But she buries it quickly, biting her lower lip as she stands.

You don’t stop her when she walks toward the door. You don’t beg her to stay, even though every part of you wants to.

Her hand pauses on the doorknob, and she turns to look at you one last time. “Take care of yourself, please.”

And then she’s gone, leaving you alone in the apartment that now feels far too big, too empty—like something important has been ripped away.

The tears come before you can stop them, silent and steady as they trail down your cheeks.

So this is how it ends.

-

The cacophony of bustling production crews, whirring cameras, and chatter from staff surrounded you. It was just another day as a cameraman for Music Bank. You adjusted your headset and checked the focus on your lens, scanning the glossy stage set before the next performance.

"Alright, position four, get a wide-angle for the intro shot," your director’s voice crackled in your earpiece.

You nodded absently, though your attention was piqued when you noticed the name on the lineup for the day: Lee Chaeyeon.

You squinted at the monitor displaying her pre-recorded teaser clip. The name tickled something in your brain, but you couldn’t place it. She was a rising soloist, right? Her name had floated around in industry circles for a while, though you never connected the dots.

Moments later, the lights dimmed, signaling the beginning of her stage. You fixed your camera on the center of the stage, watching as the outline of her figure materialized behind the foggy haze. The soft melody of the intro cued the LEDs to paint the stage in hues of blue and white, bathing her in an ethereal glow.

When she turned to face the camera, your breath hitched.

It wasn’t just her. It was her.

You gripped the camera a little tighter, your fingers stiff. It was Lee Chaeyeon, your ex—the same Lee Chaeyeon who once laughed at your dumb jokes, held your hand like it was her lifeline, and left you in the aftermath of IZ*ONE's disbandment.

“Position four, stay steady!” The director’s voice cut through your sudden daze. You snapped back to reality, your professional instincts overpowering the storm of emotions clawing their way back.

Chaeyeon moved with the fluidity you always admired, her steps precise and her expressions sharp. Her choreography hit with a precision that sent the crowd into cheers, but all you could see was the subtle difference in her now. She was more confident, bolder than she had been years ago. The Chaeyeon you knew had always been a perfectionist, but there was something about her presence now that felt untouchable.

"Close-up, position four," your director ordered.

With a steady hand, you focused on her face, and for a fleeting second, her gaze locked with the lens—locked with you.

Your heart thudded. Did she recognize you?

The performance ended in a flourish of lights and thunderous applause. Chaeyeon bowed deeply, her smile dazzling the crowd as she caught her breath. You followed her with the camera as she exited the stage, the angle catching her wiping a bead of sweat from her temple. Your chest tightened as you remembered how you used to hold her face gently, brushing strands of hair away after rehearsals.

Focus, Y/n. It’s just another artist. Just another gig.

And yet—you can’t stop staring.

-

The show was on a break, giving you time to reorganize equipment and check over footage. Your hands moved methodically, but your mind remained miles away. Seeing her like that—so poised, so untouchable—made your chest ache in ways you thought you’d buried.

A voice brought you back to reality.

“Excuse me, is this where I can check the camera playback?”

You turned and froze. Chaeyeon stood there, her outfit changed into something more casual but equally stunning. She looked at you with a polite curiosity, her hands clasped nervously.

Your throat tightened as you scrambled for a response. “Y-Yeah, uh, over here.”

She approached, her eyes scanning your face. It was as if she was trying to place you, too.

“Thanks.” She leaned in to look at the monitor, her proximity flooding you with an all-too-familiar warmth.

You cleared your throat. “Great work out there.”

She glanced at you, her lips curving into a soft smile. “Thanks. It’s always nerve-wracking, even after all these years.”

There it was—that same vulnerability she’d let you see behind closed doors.

As she reviewed the playback, you couldn’t help but speak again. “You’ve come a long way since... IZ*ONE.” The name slipped out before you could stop yourself.

Her fingers paused over the monitor. Slowly, she turned to face you, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied you. Then, recognition dawned.

“…Y/n?”

Your heart sank, and you let out a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Hey…It’s me.”

Chaeyeon’s expression flickered between surprise and something unreadable. “I didn’t think…” she started, then stopped. “It’s been so long.”

“Yeah.”

-

The silence that followed was heavy.

You ended up sitting together in a quiet corner of the backstage area, away from the chaos of staff and idols rushing about. The small table between you felt more like a chasm, holding years of unspoken words, lingering questions, and emotions you thought had been buried. Chaeyeon sat with her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her eyes flickering between you and the floor, like she was weighing every word before she spoke.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she started, her voice quieter now. “Last I heard, you were working in… film?”

You shrugged, keeping your tone neutral. “Things changed. Just like you, I guess.”

She nodded slowly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah. A lot has changed.”

For a moment, silence fell between you. It wasn’t the comfortable silence you used to share, sitting side by side in cafes while you worked on your laptop and she doodled choreography in her notebook. This was heavier, filled with years of distance and the things you were both too afraid to say.

Chaeyeon looked up at you suddenly, her eyes sharp yet vulnerable. “How..um…have you been?”

You hesitated. The question sounded innocent, but there was something in her tone—something almost desperate, like she needed to know the answer more than you did.

“I’ve been… okay,” you said, the words feeling both honest and insufficient. “Busy with work, trying to keep up with life, you know how it is.”

She nodded again, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I’ve thought about you. A lot.”

The words caught you off guard, and your chest tightened. You hadn’t expected her to be so direct, not after all this time.

“Have you?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

Chaeyeon let out a small, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Of course I have. Do you think I could just forget about you?”

The vulnerability in her voice made your throat tighten. “I don’t know, Chaeyeon-ah. You left so easily. It felt like I didn’t even matter...”

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. “It wasn’t easy,” she said, her voice trembling. “It was never easy.”

You leaned back slightly, stunned by the raw emotion in her voice. “Then why did you do it? Why didn’t you at least try to talk to me?”

She exhaled shakily, running a hand through her hair. “I was…scared. Scared of failing, scared of holding you back, scared of ruining everything we had. When IZ*ONE ended, I felt like I was starting over from nothing. I didn’t know who I was without the group, and I didn’t want you to see me like that. You deserved someone who had their life together, not someone who was falling apart.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. For so long, you had convinced yourself that she had left because you weren’t enough. Hearing her now, seeing the way her hands trembled as she spoke, made you realize how wrong you’d been.

“I never wanted perfection, Chaeyeon-ah,” you said softly. “I just wanted you.”

Her breath hitched, and she looked at you with an expression so full of regret and longing that it made your heart ache.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

You stared at her, the raw honesty in her words stirring something deep within you. For years, you had carried the weight of your heartbreak, blaming yourself for not being enough. But now, sitting across from her, you realized that she had been carrying her own burden all along.

“I missed you,” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I tried to move on, but… I couldn’t.”

Chaeyeon reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing against yours. The touch was light, tentative, as if she was afraid you might pull away. When you didn’t, she let her hand rest on top of yours, her warmth grounding you in the moment.

“I don’t know if it’s too late,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I want to try. Even if it’s just as friends, I want you in my life again.”

You looked down at her hand, the memories of your past rushing back all at once—the late-night phone calls, the quiet moments of comfort, the way she used to look at you like you were her whole world.

Slowly, you turned your hand over, letting your fingers intertwine with hers.

“It’s not too late,” you said, your voice steady. “But…let’s not start as strangers pretending to be friends. Let’s start as two people who still care about each other and see where it goes, you know?”

Her eyes widened slightly, and then she smiled—a real, genuine smile that lit up her face in a way you hadn’t seen in years.

“Mhm..” she said softly. “Let’s start there.”

For the first time in a long time, the weight on your chest began to lift. The past might still linger, but the future felt a little brighter with her hand in yours.

Maybe this time, you think, you’ll get it right.

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Not My Type Pt. 2

(The look on Steve’s face when he realizes what your doing 😭)

Part 1 Masterlist

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size F!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,623

Summary: Your night couldn’t get any better.

Warnings: sub!bucky, no explicit smut, but suggestive themes.

Tags: @mereptt @mcira @blackhawkfanatic @misz-adrii @f-1-refly @bbhaughen

You couldn’t feel your legs. They were completely numb from the cold. Steve showed no signs of even having a chill. Meanwhile you were reduced to hobbling one leg after the other, only 5 blocks in.

Focusing on the walk, and keeping your breath even; so Steve doesn’t notice how winded you were, sobered you even more than the cold. You now realized your situation. Confidence boost drained as soon as Bucky was out of sight.

You’re grateful when traffic causes you to stop at a crosswalk. You bury your arms under each other and try to stay warm in place. Steve noticed you shivering 10 minutes ago. He didn’t have a jacket to give you so he knew making it home was the best option for warmth.

He didn’t expect to stop, and have a moment to do something about it. He quickly wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing his full body against you. Your legs were still cold but he provided more than enough heat to warm you. You didn’t mind that no words were shared between you the whole walk, he didn’t seem to either, still smiling when you made it back home.

Climbing the stairs to your door, you search for words to say. Are you both seriously going through with this? Did Steve mean it? Sweat was forming on your palms, you noticed when your keys almost slipped out of your grasp, or maybe it was the trembling.

“I-“ you begin, instantly being cut off. “We should talk, inside.” He says, and your heart drops. He regrets it, of course he does, that’s your luck. You knew it was too good to be true. “No need, I get it.” You say, dropping your head.

“I just can’t do this to Bucky.” he says, sitting down on your couch when you made it inside. You were confused, you thought you were doing this because of Bucky. “What?” Him not being into you was less confusing.

Steve sighs, “I like you, and I wouldn’t mind making you forget all about some asshole at a bar.” Your cheeks flush, you knew he meant fucking you till all you could think about was him. “If that asshole wasn’t Bucky, and I didn’t know just how much he really does care about you.”. Oh.

“Let me get this straight, you’re defending him now?” You stand in front of him, placing your hands on your hips. He has to look up to you. “Don’t stand there like that and yell at me, it only makes me want you more. It’s making this harder than it has to be.” You scoff, “Okay Steve, my brain is literally going to explode if you don’t start talking.” You sit down on your coffee table, letting your knees brush his.

As if this is harder for him. You were dragged into a bar to embarrass yourself by friends that meant well. You found out your work crush wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot poll. You somehow told said crush off in an alley after kissing Captain America. Your night couldn’t get any more rough.

“I know he likes you, he might deny it, but I can see the way he looks at you. He has a weird way of showing it, I know. But tonight, I just kept pushing him and I know he regrets what he said. He’s just degrading you to cope with having actual feelings.” He now takes his turn to face the ground, not being able to meet your eye.

“The way he talked about you didn’t sit right with me. I was trying to show him that looks don’t matter, we looked pretty good pressed together in that alley, and I know he saw that.” He paused, thinking over his words.

“I do like you, I don’t want you thinking any different. But I don’t want to carry on with this if Bucky still has a chance, it wouldn’t be right.” You can tell how sincere he is being, and it has you already forgiving Bucky without even receiving an apology from the man himself.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Steve.” You rub your sweaty palms on your bare knees. “I can’t just pretend like he never said that. I can see that how much your friendship means. It’s no hard feelings, really. But I wouldn’t put myself in a position where Bucky could hurt me again, if you paid me.” You laugh, getting fully used to douche bag guys.

Steve nods his head, understanding that you owe neither of the men a thing. “He would have to crawl in here on his hands and knees begging for a chance with fatty.” You shrug your shoulders, keeping your integrity.

“That could be arranged.” He smiles, breaking up the tension with dopey grin. You mentally face palm. “Go for it tiger, but I won’t be a part of it.” You give him a thumbs up, and suddenly you’re exhausted.

“Tonight’s obviously not happening, and I have to be in your office with everyone else in,” you squint at the clock on your microwave. “, 7 hours. So, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, leave my apartment Captain America.” You pat the side of his knee, reassuring him that you’re being lighthearted.

“Fine, but I will see you at 8 sharp.” He says, standing from the couch and making his way to your door. You follow behind him, needing to deadbolt it. “Why is he the way he is?” You blurt out, figuring Steve’s the only person who could answer that question.

“If you find out I’d love to know.” He throws his hands up. “People like to think I’m close to Bucky, but he never let anyone in after he was deprogrammed. Not even me, so I think he’s just having a hard time letting feelings for you in, his brain won’t let him.”.

“Why go after my weight?” You ask, as if Steve answers for him. He shrugs “Cause it was basic, and cliché. Made it seem like something was wrong with him, not you. I’ve tried to wrap my head around the new word, ‘fatphobia’ but I can’t, it seems like a personal problem that people project onto other heavier people.” How was he real? Steve Rogers continues to amaze you with every word that falls from his lips.

When Steve opens the door you both come face to face with Bucky. Standing there, having followed you home. Staying a hundred yards back, watching your every move. He stood outside and heard every word shared between you and Steve.

He knew the only thing he could do to make it right. So he did, wordlessly dropping to his knees on your doorstep. “What are you doing here?” Steve tries to interject, but you press your hand to his chest, needing him to be quiet for a minute.

You can’t break eye contact with Bucky, unable to believe what he’s doing. His eyes are red, cheeks stained with tears. A smug smile falls on your lips and you pull Steve along with you as you walk backwards. Giving Bucky room to step into the house.

He leans forward, placing both palms on the carpeted entryway. Your hand on Steve’s chest can feel the shallow breaths he was taking. But you couldn’t think to hard about him right now, Bucky was crawling on his hands and knees towards you, with giant blue puppy dog eyes, that literally leaked with regret.

Once Bucky made it to your feet, he sat back on his heels, holding his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry.”, his eyes fill with more tears, “Everything Steve said was right.” He sighs, looking over to his friend.

“I don’t know how to let people in. I’m insecure, and possibly the dumbest man alive.” He reaches out and grasps your hand, needing you to feel his sincerity. His eyes set hard, having difficulty admitting the next part, “You scare the shit out of me.”.

You let out a laugh, breaking up the tension in the room. “I scare you?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as loud as it did, but you were still upset. He nods, pressing his eyebrows together. “Yes.”. He comes closer to you, till his chest bumped against your knees. He held both hands now, “Please, forgive me, I’ll do anything. You’re the only person in this new world that makes me feel, anything. After I was deprogrammed, you were the only thing that felt normal, like home. Not Brooklyn, the past.” He takes your stoicism as an invitation to rest his hands on your thighs, wanting to physically connect with you while he rips himself open.

“The way you smelled of honeysuckles.” He presses his face against your stomach, inhaling deeply. “Red lipstick always on hand, making your smile brighter than any I’d ever saw. The way you walked up to me on your first day, so brave and confident. You remind me of home and it’s scary.”.

Your heart sank. This whole time, this is how he felt? All the harsh staring and denial was just, homesickness? You look down and feel yourself begin to feel guilty, even though you’ve done nothing wrong. “I didn’t know.”.

Steve, who had stayed silent this whole time, face set in stone, finally speaks up. “No, you didn’t know. So don’t feel bad. Again, it’s his fault for being dumb.” He steps closer to the two of you, starting to feel possessive over you. He wasn’t going to let Bucky get by with a half hearted apology. He could tell he was holding something back.

“I don’t believe it, you’re scared of her because she’s perfect for you?” He squats down to Bucky’s level, trying to intimidate him. Bucky looks between you, not sure if he should answer him. You raise your brow, letting him know Steve peaked your interest.

“Everything I’ve ever known or loved is gone, relics of the past. I’m scared that you might go away too, if you got too close to me.”.

Steve was visibly hurt. Did he not remind Bucky of home? He’s known Bucky his whole life, why couldn’t he let him in? He knew Steve wasn’t going anywhere. The Captain stayed silent, knowing tonight was about the hurt Bucky caused you, not him. He would pay for Steve’s emotional wounds later.

Before he can plot anything in his mind he’s being pulled up from the floor by you. “What do you think his punishment ought to be, huh Stevie?” When he looked at your face all he could see was deviance. Playing along, he pinches his chin in thought. “Hmm, you know, I’d hate to leave without finishing what we started earlier.”. He spins you to face him, letting his hands find the curve of your ass.

“I like that idea.” You bat your eyelashes at him. Your raise yourself up on your tippy toes and kiss him, tangling your fingers in his hair. You hear a whine from the floor beside you. Bucky’s face is red and you can tell he’s confused. “You sit there and be a good boy, then I’ll forgive you and maybe even let you touch me.”. You say, letting both Steve and Bucky know, you’re not the same person in the bedroom.

You loved degrading men. In your everyday life you might come across as sweet, unsuspecting, inexperienced. But you weren’t, there’s no shortage of men wanting a woman to dominate them. You’d never had the pleasure of using one this far out of your league.

Tonight, you were going to take advantage of it. Seeing Bucky crawl on his hands and knees lit a fire inside of you. You didn’t need to hear his apology at that point. Everything after it was pure showmanship. The performance of your life.

The morning came before you knew it. Your 7am alarm blaring through your studio apartment. Steve and Bucky left earlier, waking you up with goodbye kisses, but your foggy, half asleep brain barely registered that they left. You wore your hair down today, letting last nights curls be free. You didn’t opt for makeup, knowing the intense winter training would melt it off anyways.

When you make it to work, you see a lot of sunglasses. “Is everyone hungover?” You ask Natasha who’s nursing a black coffee. “Almost everyone.” She nods towards the two super soldiers standing behind Steve’s desk.

You blush when Steve gives you a wide smile, hoping no one in the office noticed. But of course Wanda senses the change in your footsteps and the buzzing reverberating off of you. She sits beside you in the semicircle of chairs, leaning over to whisper “I’m gonna need details.” She nudges her shoulder with yours, teasing you.

Before you could retaliate, Steve starts the debrief. “Winter training, gotta love it.” The whole room groans as Steve laughs. “I won’t keep you too long, I know you all have a long day ahead of you. But I like to think a good ole pep talk is the best thing for a team.”.

You roll your eyes. You liked Steve, but boss Steve was exhausting. You press your forehead on Wanda’s shoulder, you both hated this cringy kind of thing. “I’d like to remind you all why we train so vigorously. Teamwork. We all preform better together. We have to constantly be adapting to eachother, our strengths, and weaknesses.” He looks into each of your coworkers eyes, trying to drive his point.

“We change, just like the seasons, so pay special attention to your training partner today. They might teach you something new.” The inspirational speech was enough to have you wanting to go back home and go back to sleep, something you only received 3 hours of.

“Wanda, Sam, and Bruce, I want you guys down at the lake. Yelena, Natasha and Clint, go to the helipad, further instruction will be waiting.” He looks at the tablet infront of him, reading off bullet points.

“Y/N, Bucky and I are scheduled to be in the gym. Peter and Vision are already with Tony and Rhodes in the lab. Any questions?” He dismisses everyone after that. He changed it. So smoothly that no one noticed, you’d been scheduled to be at the lake with Wanda and Bruce. Of course Sam wouldn’t protest the change up, Steve just had to ask nicely.

When everyone shuffled out of the room, Wanda reminded you she wanted details over lunch later. Once everyone was gone you were suddenly aware that you were left alone with them. You were blinded by lust last night, not realizing the position you put yourself in. Were you with Bucky now? His confession was pretty serious. Were you with both of them? Was it a one night stand? Are they done with you now that they’ve had their fun? A million questions ran through your head while you waited by the door.

“Ready?” Bucky opens the door for you, ushering you into the hallway. You give him a tight lipped smile, not knowing how to interact with him not on his knees. You definitely weren’t the same person in the bedroom. Your regular self was awkward and embarrassingly nice at times. Would either of them still want you, once they see how different you could be?

They knew you before, and even liked you before. But now they have something else to base it off. Was your dominance too much for a long term thing with them? You have a feeling you’re about to find out, as you all pile into the small room with a wall of mirrors and elliptical.

[hsunrry]

argument // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~1,1k

warnings: smut18+, praise, dirty talking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, angst

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

it was the first time you argued with him that bad you didn’t spoke to each other. for the whole week he was sleeping on the couch, when you were crying every night in the bed, because you hated it. on the other hand, he wasn’t sleeping well not because the couch was really, i mean really uncomfortable, but because he was thinking about it all the time. finally, after all this time he decided he had enough with this whole situation and when you were standing in the kitchen he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your neck on the side. you decided to not react at all. he sighed and buried his face into your neck, playing with the hem of your t-shirt. “babe…”

“wow, so my husband actually still have voice.” you said sarcastically. he lifted his head from your neck, placing his forehead on your shoulder instead.

“i know i’ve been a dick. i get it, you haven’t said a single word to me for a week, but i can’t keep sleeping on the couch anymore… i’m sorry.” he mumbled.

“you’re apologising just because your back hurts from sleeping there?” you scoffed. he shuts his eyes closed and groaned in annoyance.

“no, i’m apologising, because i was wrong and i feel bad. i was the one who started it, but i was wrong.” he straightened up. you only nodded quietly. he wrapped his arms around you tighter and he started kissing your neck to get your attention. “please, i miss you…”

“you hurt me, you know that?” you gripped counter slightly. his face was still against your neck.

“i didn’t really mean what i said, baby.” he mumbled against your skin. “i was being a jerk, i know. i shouldn’t have said those things to you. i’m so sorry.” you shook your head, holding back tears. he noticed that and felt his stomach sink. he hated fighting with you, especially when he was the one who started it in the first place. he gently turned you around, so you were facing him. he cupped your face with one of his hands, caressing it with his thumb. “don’t cry, i’m sorry, my love.”

“Harry, you can’t just do that.” you snapped. he furrowed his eyebrows, a bit taken aback by your reaction. he wasn’t really expecting you to react the way you did, but he also knew you were in your right to do so, considering how much he had messed up.

“do what?” he asked in low voice.

“just say ‘sorry’ after that.” you looked up at him. he let out a sigh, looking at the floor for few seconds.

“i know i can’t just say ‘sorry’ and expect you to forgive me instantly. that’s not how things work and i know it. especially when i was the one who was wrong. it was my mistake.” he paused for a second, looking back at you. “but i apologised, what else do you want me to do?! grovel for forgiveness?!”

“don’t yell at me!” your voice broke. his eyes widened at your broken voice, he felt like and idiot for snapping at you. “i just… i don’t know anymore.” he couldn’t stand it any longer. he took few steps closer, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands and crashing his lips on yours. after a week without it, you couldn’t help yourself and you melted into the kiss. he let out satisfied hum, deepening the kiss. his hands went down to squeeze your ass, sitting you on the kitchen counter. you gasped into the kiss at sensation of cold material. his hands gripped the hem of your t-shirt, waiting few seconds for you to stop him if you don’t want to. when you weren’t protesting he took it off you as quickly as possible, leaving you only in panties. his boxers quickly disappeared as well, exposing his already hard dick. he pumped himself few times, still kissing your lips hungrily. after a week without each other, you both know it’s gonna be quick, but nothing to complain about it here at this point. he took off your panties, immediately pushing two fingers inside you. you moaned into the kiss, clenching at his digits.

“so wet for me, gonna squeeze me just right.” he gasped into your lips, pushing his fingers in and out to prepare you. he added third one, causing your loud moan. “taking my fingers so well, can’t wait to bury my cock inside your sweet tight pussy.” he mumbled, going with his kisses to your jaw and neck. when he was satisfied, he pulled out his fingers, licking them clean. “taste so good for me, as always.” he slowly pushed his dick inside, groaning. “i’m gonna embarrass myself by how quick i’m gonna come.” he started moving in and out at fast pace, all the way to the hilt.

“oh fuck.” you moaned, feeling him picking up the pace. his hands were on your hips and his lips found yours again. his movements were hard and rough, the tip of his dick was hitting your cervix with every thrust. “Harry!”

“shh, i know baby, you can take it.” he panted against your lips. “good job, i’m so proud of you my love.” your legs were wrapped around his hips for better support. “fucking god, i missed you so much, i love you.”

“i missed you too.” you gasped, gripping his shoulders tighter. “i love you, so much.” your head snapped back and your inner walls started tightening around him. his hand immediately went between your bodies to trace tight circles on your clit, making you go almost feral. “gonna fucking come.” you moaned.

“i’m aware of that baby, come around my dick, wanna feel you squeeze me just like i love it.” he groaned, feeling on the edge as well. you came just few thrusts later, with his name on your lips. he fucked you through your orgasm, before finally stilling, buried deep inside you and filling you up. you both were panting, not really feeling like moving right now. his hand cupped your cheek, kissing you softly. “i love you and i’m sorry. really, my darling. i can’t imagine another night without you by my side.”

“me neither.” you said against his lips. “but it was the last time, understood?” he nodded, pressing another loving kiss on your lips.

[dark-mnjiro]

kinktober 2024 [week two]

author’s note: I’m a day late because I just didn’t want to edit last night. I’m sorry. I hope you guys enjoy week two. As always, please check the content warnings!

content warnings: narumi gen x afab!reader, use of baby/girl/etc pet names, streamer!narumi, cock warming, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dubcon, public sex, teasing, explicit sexual content, doggystyle, hair pulling, spanking, cream pie, dirty talk

credits: divided by @/cafekitsune

Laying on the bed lazily, you scrolled on your phone as you could hear Narumi greeting his viewers for another gaming stream. It was his yearly Halloween twenty-four-hour stream. You pulled up his stream on your phone before his chat flooded with greetings to you - his now, long-time girlfriend.

“Babe,” you hear Narumi call out. “Everyone’s saying hi.”

You outstretched your arm and waved. Narumi kept the bed off-screen so you could relax in peace but you often would wave to his viewers or say (yell) from off camera. “Hi, guys! Happy Halloween!”

The chat exploded with well wishes from his viewers before they began flooding him with questions about bringing you out during a jump scare game. Pouting, you glanced at Narumi who sported a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You know I hate jump scares!”

The corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk. “Exactly why you have to sit in on the game.”

You deflated immediately. “Ass…”

Narumi reached behind him before grasping your hand and squeezing you. “Please?”

Sighing, you offered a squeeze back. “Fine. You owe me!”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright. Anything you want after the stream then.”

“You better get me food.”

“Done.”

Shaking your head, you relaxed back on the bed as you watched the stream continue over the next couple of hours. You would comment randomly in the chat, encouraging the viewers to tease and scare your boyfriend with the donation sounds. He would occasionally glance back at you with a playful glare on his face.

“Babe?”

Glancing up from your phone, a smile curled over your lips. “Hm?”

“Ready to play?”

Groaning, you rolled off the bed. “FINE.”

He was an asshole. He has picked a game that capitalized on jump scares as he pulled you into his lap and the Five Nights at Freddy’s logo came up on screen. You took hold of the mouse and began to play.

Narumi’s hands found their place at your waist before resting his chin on your shoulder. His grip tightened with each involuntary jump you made.

“You good?”

He merely smiled at you. “I’m good,” he said before another jump scare flashed over the screen.

You yelped before Narumi’s grip rocked your body against his lap. Your cheeks reddened as you felt his erection pressing against you.

Muting the stream and pausing the game, you slipped off the headset before glancing at him. “Gen!”

A grin curled over his lips. “Yeah?”

“You know what!”

“Come on,” he snorted. “You know how bad I’ve always wanted to do this.”

The heat in your cheeks deepened. “Gen…”

“Baby… I promise they can’t see anything. Camera’s pointed from shoulders up.”

“One time. That’s it.” He assured you. “Just keep my dick warm…”

He merely grinned as you heard the meta clang of his belt undo. His hands slipped under your skirt before slipping the delicate fabric aside so he could slip his cock into you. “Now just sit on my cock pretty girl,” he whispered.

“Ass.”

“That can be arranged.”

“I’m going to break up with you.”

Narumi only laughed before adjusting his hips enough to push his cock into your further. Heat erupted throughout your body before slipping the headset back on and unmuting the stream. You apologized to the viewers mentioning that you two had to discuss a family matter from a nonexistent text you received.

His grip tightened on your hips as you continued playing the horrific game. You had to admit… knowing his cock was buried inside of you while you both gamed in front of thousands of viewers. It seemed to do something to you.

Heat rushed to your core with each adjustment you made or each jump you accidentally made. You heard Narumi grunting behind you, thoroughly enjoying himself as well.

Until a hand disappeared from your hip…

His hand slipped under your skirt before brushing against your clit. You managed to hold back the gasp that wanted to erupt from your throat at his touch. Electricity flooded your senses. What an asshole… Narumi began rubbing excruciatingly slow circles around your clit before he offered a small thrust.

The pace quickened.

Fuck… the heat between your legs radiated.

“That’s it,” Narumi cooed as the chat was led to believe he was complimenting your gaming. But you knew differently. He chuckled before pressing his lips against your shoulder. “See you’re doing fine.”

“Gen…” you warned.

He thrust into you again but disguised it as an adjustment.

A surprised gasp tumbled from your lips, thankfully as another jump scare flashed over the screen. His fingers pinched your clit, sending you over the edge as your orgasm washed over you.

Your body shuddered, making sure to keep your lips tightly together. Any illicit sound or moan would give away what you two were up to… and Narumi’s channel would pay dearly.

Your boyfriend only chuckled as he peered over your shoulder at his viewers. “I think we’re gonna let her take a break,” he commented. “And honestly I need a food break. I’ll be back in about fifteen or twenty minutes.” His stream muted and the screen switched to his break side.

“…did you want me to make you-“

With one swift motion, Narumi had you bent over his gaming desk with his cock still buried inside of your leaking cunt.

“Pretty baby,” he cooed. “Time to finish the job.”

A moan slipped past your lips as you felt his hips smack against your skin. Your hands found the edge of the desk, trying to brace yourself against it. His pace became increasingly rough before a free hand found its way into your hair.

“Sweet baby,” he grunted. As he tugged your hair back. “Loving every second of my cock in you with thousands watching. Does that get you off? You’re soaking wet… fucking dirty girl.”

You cried out his name as your orgasm began building up at your core. Another moan tumbled from your lips as he increased his pace.

Your mind couldn’t keep up.

“Gonna cum? I can feel you clenching baby…” he whispered before smacking your ass.

A yelp escaped your throat as you felt an orgasm finally crash over your body. Narumi continued his brutal as you tried to regain your senses.

“Gonna fill you up baby girl… you’re all mine,” he growled before spilling his cum inside of you. Another gasp moved past your lips at the sensation of your sensitive core filling up. He offered another hard thrust, pushing his seed further into you before finally pulling out.

Panting, you relaxed against the desk.

“You good princess?”

“Mhm…”

Narumi chuckled before glancing back at his stream.

“Oh fuck.”

Confusion filled your eyes. “What?”

“…I must have been too rough… I think we accidentally unmuted the stream.”

“WHAT?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “I think I’m on a twenty-four ban.”

“Gen!”

“…whoops. Let me message the site.”

[harveysweakness]

Pressing Charges

WARNING: TALK OF BEING MUGGED

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for so long!!!!

"And she's been saying that Y/N has been yelling at her left and right and on top of that she, I think, might not pass the-"

"What did you say?" Harvey interrupted, listening just barely enough for that snippet to catch his attention.

"Y/N has been yelling at her?" Mike questioned.

"Y/N has been yelling?"

"Yeah, at her first year associate. Anyway," Mike kept rambling and Harvey didn't listen one bit. You never yelled. The only time you ever raised your voice was when someone attacked somebody you cared about. And the fact that you were yelling did not sit right with Harvey at all.

-----

The day seem to drag on as Harvey stared at the clock. The office wouldn't get empty enough for him until 7pm and he knew you'd still be in your cozy corner office a hall down from him way past 7.

He couldn't risk seeing you during the day. The only person who knew him and you were growing closer was Donna, and Harvey knew she could keep a secret. Donna always knew what was going on in the office-

Harvey shook his head, frustrated that he didn't think of it earlier. Pressing the button on the intercom, he waited for her familiar voice. "Donna, can you come in here please?"

"What's up?" Donna asked as she plopped a seat in the chair across from Harvey's.

"Have you heard anything about Y/N?"

Donna looked a little nervous.

"Donna," he pushed, giving her a pointed look that meant he would not ask again.

"Someone heard her on the phone with someone talking about pressing charges."

Harvey's face turned more serious than it had been. "Did someone hurt her?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know, I wish I did."

"Thanks, Donna."

--------

As soon as enough people had left for the day, Harvey made his way down the hall, pausing in the doorway to your office, his heart breaking just a bit at the site. Your head was in your hands, one of your cream-colored blankets draped around your shoulders, and Harvey could only assume that the soft sniffle you gave was from crying.

You picked your head up a moment later, seemingly finally sensing a presence.

"What do you wa- Harvey," your tone softened at his name, eyes going from steely to tired.

"Hey," he greeted softly, finally stepping into your office and shutting the door behind him. He paused for a moment, not quite sure on the best course of action before you burst into tears. The man moved swiftly around your desk towards you. You waisted no time in wrapping your arms around him, burying your face into the jacket of his suit.

"Talk to me, sweetheart."

You pulled away enough to be able to speak, him moving to rest against the edge of your desk.

“Last night, I decided to walk instead of take a car.”

Harvey bit his tongue. You were at least a fifteen to twenty minute walk from the office and he knew for a fact that you hadn’t left while it was still light outside.

“I had made it almost halfway home when some guy came up behind me and hit me and tried to get my bag. I turned to fight,” -Harvey let out a small sigh, which you ignored- “and he pulled out a gun.”

“Y/N.”

You brushed away a stray tear and continued. “I must be the luckiest woman in the world, because there was a cop nearby, who pulled out his gun. The man was shot, he’s in the hospital currently.”

“My god,” Harvey said quietly. You hummed.

“I’m pressing charges, but I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Did you talk to your therapist about it?”

“How do you know I have a therapist?” You questioned, a small smile toying at your lips.

He shrugged. “I know everything.”

“You are not Donna,” you giggled.

“Nor would I ever dream to be.” You both laughed before it got quiet.

“I’m seeing my therapist tomorrow to talk about it.”

“Good. I hope it helps. If you need anything-“

“You’ll be the first one I go to,” you admitted softly. Harvey felt his chest tighten.

“The first?”

“Is that okay?”

“I’d be honored… It’s late, Y/N.”

You glanced at your computer screen, which read 9:24pm.

“I should get going, and so should you.”

Harvey stood and walked to where you had thrown your coat over the couch in the corner. You blushed when he held it open for you, cheeks reddening further when he gently pulled your hair out from under the warm material, his fingers brushing ever so lightly against the back of your neck.

“Let me walk you out. Did you call Frank?”

You nodded. “He should be pulling up any second.”

You followed Harvey to his office, watching him throw his coat on and pack up his bag. You felt a sadness inside, and you weren’t quite sure why. Maybe you didn’t want to say goodnight to him just yet.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Definitely.”

The two of you walked side by side towards the elevators, riding down in silence, both exhausted by the day. After you exited the elevator and made your way through the revolving door to the building, you felt Harvey’s hand on your back, providing the security you needed to feel safe. He walked you to your car, Frank standing at the driver’s side, watching the pedestrians walk by with narrowed eyes. Harvey felt better knowing your driver was someone who cared about you too.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Frank greeted.

“Hi, Frank, thank you.”

Harvey moved to open the backseat door for you, offering his hand to help you into the car. You took it, but didn’t get in, instead choosing to look at him.

“Thank you,” you whispered, hoping your depth of your gratitude was evident.

“Of course, sweetheart. Get home safe.”

You bit your lower lip, not missing the way his eyes flickered to it. He looked like he wanted to lean in, so did you, but you just gave a small smile and leaned up and around to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Goodnight, Harvey,” you murmured, before stepping into the car and taking a graceful seat.

“Goodnight.” He shut the door once he made sure you were clear and you didn’t miss his smile as you pulled into the streets of the city.

[sevikaswifefr]

video games

pairing: jenna ortega x female reader

warning: sadly quite short, fluffy

a/n: short and sweet (i’m so lonely 😭😭)

I don’t hear the front door open or close, my headset blocking out ninety percent of all noises. Only when Jenna’s body climbs into my lap do I realise she’s home.

Freeing one ear from my headset I glance down at the girl in my lap with a smile. She feels almost weightless though her grip on my waist is firm, something she does when she craves my attention. Jenna’s thighs rest on either side of my own, her head burying itself in my neck. These tells cause my eyebrows to furrow slightly.

“Hey baby. You ok?” I whisper letting go of my controller to draw patterns up and down her back. My game can wait.

Jenna shrugs her arms tensing around my waist confirming my suspicions. “Come on, I need words.” I coax her head from my neck to find her smiling softly, tears welling up in her eyes. “Baby?” I breathe gently cupping her face, my thumbs stroking just under her cheekbones. “I’m ok, just very happy to be home.” Jenna chuckles closing her eyes and leaning into my touch before once again nuzzling her face into my neck. “Long day and I’m ready to sleep.” She yawns.

I sigh in relief and return her embrace.

Beep Beep

Jenna sits up alarmed, hands clenching my shoulders tightly causing me to chuckle. Her body tenses only to relax at realising it’s simply my game being left on paused for too long.

“How does a shower sound? Then we can sleep.”I kiss her jaw gently goosebumps awakening at my touch. Jenna’s hand traces light patterns on the curve of my sides. “Are you saying I smell?” Her nose scrunches slightly, eyes narrowing in faux anger.

“Your words not mine.” I tease. Jenna doesn’t accept those words, her hand coming up to slap my arm. “Ow.” I wince frowning at the chuckling girl on my lap. “Shower. Go.” My eyebrows furrow, playful anger coursing through my body. “Grumpy.” Jenna whispers under her breath with a cheeky smirk.

My hands press against her stomach, nudging her off my lap to which Jenna protests her own hands wrapping tighter around my waist. “Come with me?” She pleads gazing up at me with those eyes. I huff and look away from her only to feel her fingers close around my jaw tilting my face back down to her own.

“Please.” She whispers, lips ghosting mine. It takes all my courage to not pin her to the couch and kiss her hard enough to leave bruises. “No baby cause we both know where that would go and you need to relax, not get riled up.

Jenna debates my answer before moving off my lap and heading towards our bedroom. “Be like that then.” She doesn’t turn to look at me as she walks away knowing I’m right.

Although she puts on the annoyed facade I hear her yell I love you from the bedroom, those three words assuring me she isn’t seriously angry.

Fifteen minutes pass by, my solitude being kept cosy with my controller in hand, gentle music playing in the background keeping the atmosphere calm amongst the violence on the tv screen.

“Can you come to here please?” I’d be lying if I said Jenna’s shout didn’t scare me slightly. But I obey, turning off the console and tv before heading towards the bedroom.

Candles flicker, the breeze causing a slight chill inside the dimly lit room as the window beside the bed remains open. Jenna smiles dopily, a cigarette in hand as she smokes beckoning me to her side.

“I missed you today.” She reaches for my hand to pull me down. A smile adorns my face seeing her flushed cheeks. “I missed you too.” I whisper softly nuzzling my nose against the side of her face. “Want some?” She asks gesturing to the cigarette in her hand. I nod, holding onto her wrist gently as she places the cigarette against my lips.

As the the cigarette becomes a dud Jenna throws it onto the ash tray with a sigh. “Bed please.” She groans walking the mere three steps and collapsing face first into the mattress. Following my girlfriend I sit on the edge, my hand tracing patterns under her baggy sleep shirt and along the hem of her sleep shorts.

“Closer.” Jenna mumbles against the blankets, her hand flailing around in an attempt to find my body and pull me against her. “Please.” She whines scrambling up the mattress and resting her face on her pillow.

“I’m coming.” I chuckle standing up to blow out the candles before swiftly moving onto the bed and beneath the covers.

Jenna finally pulls her face away from the pillow, head tilted in my direction she smiles. “Come here then.” I whisper opening my arms for the smaller girl to fall into. And that she does.

Manoeuvring her body so her legs slot between my own, soft skin against soft skin. Her head lays on my chest and her eyes close, relaxed as my fingers find themselves tracing patterns under her shirt once again.

“Goodnight baby.” I whisper pressing a kiss to her head. Jenna hums contently. “Goodnight.”