#My anxious ass would be dead

[piggycyberwarrior]

Warm light made its way through the blinders- painting your bedroom in a cozy way- Honey colour mixing together with the white wall- twirling into pretty shades.

Appreciating the fuzzy feeling of the sun kissing your skin- back turned to the window- watching how the liquid gold danced across his skin- hitting him just right.

You thanked whatever god was out there, that you had the chance to see this. Him. So peaceful- snuggled into the covers- holding you close.

It was a rare sight. He was mostly gone on missions- and when you really do had the chance at sleeping in the same bed as him, he was long awake before you.

Pressing yourself more into his naked chest, savoring the innocent moment- humming softly as he instinctely hugged you closer- as if he was awake.

Sun gently warming you up as well- feeling how the warmth slowly spread over your back- seeping comfortably into your bones.

Everything was perfect.

Snaking your hands around his waist- face pressed into the crook of his neck- inhaling his beautiful scent, that you grew to love so much.Thoughts stopping as your heart swelled with adoration. His scent calming you- smile tugging at your lips with ease.

Something changed all of the sudden.

"You know that I love you, right?" you whisper softly- not wanting to wake him from his needed slumber. Heart aching at the thought that he might be gone the next day- away on some mission and you maybe never see him again.

His hold around you tightened as if he sensed that you needed comfort.

"I love you so much" but i am scared, you whisper into his skin. Tears prickling in your eyes- hating how such a cozy morning turned into dark thoughts of your lover dying on the battlefield.

Shoulder clenching- trying to make yourself smaller as the sun now seemed to burn your body- needles poking through your skin. Jaw of his clenching while hearing your words-

He was awake the moment you laid your pretty eyes on him.

Divider credits to @anitalenia <3

tagging ma mutieees: @stargirlstabber @cricricorner @peachy-aisha @captain-of-caption @thelrina @missroro @gaiagurl05 @enfppuff 🌷💕✨

!please do reblog!

[ca-d]

bonus points for my girl sitting through my hour long dentist appointment.

[tmpestuous]

someone to stay

summary: bucky offers you solace as your mental fatigue rears its head.

pairing: boyfriend!bucky x reader

warnings: angst, reader anxiety/depression, fluff, non-sexual nudity, a comforting buck <3

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this was inspired by my own issues right now because i definitely need it at the moment :’) 

Getting out of bed was always the most difficult part of your day. Even when you were feeling okay, even when nothing was immediately wrong. You would wake up and stare into the void, blankets smothering your body and eyelids still heavy from the bit of sleep you’d managed to get.

There wasn’t anything pressing your anxiety, but having been out of your routine for a few weeks always left you feeling unmotivated. After having been sidelined from missions for a multitude of reasons—injuries, mental stability, and a dwindling success rate—you had nothing to do. None of your side hobbies entertained you long enough to keep you busy, so you fell into the same cycle. You sometimes wished you could sleep all day or even just stay stagnant in bed, but you knew it’d only make the fatigue worse.

Today, however, was not one of those days where you pushed yourself out of bed. Not bothered to check the time, you closed your eyes again. It was raining outside anyways, the perfect weather to stay cuddled in bed for. Soon enough, you found some sleep again, even if you’d regret it later.

Bucky, who was not sidelined from missions, had just come back from one, more than eager to see you. He was back earlier than expected, so he only figured you wouldn’t be in your usual spot waiting for him in the hangar of the compound. It was a bit past noon, so he assumed you were keeping busy elsewhere.

After a quick debrief, he made it to your shared room, only to be led to confusion at the curtains still drawn and all of the lights off. He knew how much you hated sleeping in too late, only ever sleeping past 9 if you were really exhausted and/or hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. Even then, you never let it get past 11 before you were up and out of bed.

Bucky knew you were taking your suspension a bit rougher than expected. He hated seeing you upset and he was even willing to skip out on a few missions to stay with you, but you’d insisted otherwise, saying “the bad guys don’t take breaks.” 

He never liked leaving you. Most of your missions had the two of you together, SHIELD thinking you worked well together even outside of your relationship. Going on missions without you meant he was always stuck with some reckless, inexperienced agent who wasn’t half as skilled as you a lot of the time. It was why he only liked the ones where he was with Sam or Steve, at least not having to stress about saving anyone.

He missed you on every single one. Your quips, how satisfying it was to see you kick people’s asses, and how swiftly you did just about everything. But Bucky also knew you needed a break. Your anxiety was more rampant lately, and it was affecting all of your skills on the field. The decision to bench you didn’t come easy to anyone, but especially not you.

You honestly had little to no idea what had you so anxious to start with, but anything else that triggered your anxiety only amplified it. Bucky was so reluctant to let Steve suspend you, but after you got seriously injured on a mission for lack of attention, he couldn’t argue against it anymore.

“You can’t be serious,” you said to Steve, tears in your eyes. “I’ve been injured so many times, why does that even matter?”

“It’s not just the injury,” Steve countered. “You’ve been off your game. I can’t risk losing one of our best members because you’re distracted.”

“I’m not dis—”

“You being distracted is how you ended up with a broken arm and a head injury,” he cut you off, making you look away from him. “You’re gonna end up dead if you keep on like this. I can’t deal with that loss, and neither can Bucky.”

Snapping your gaze back at Steve, you scoffed.

“So this is about Bucky?”

“This is about you, Y/n,” Steve said, his tone slightly more irritated. “He begged me not to bench you, said you just needed some time but even he knows putting you on the field again is risking your life.”

Wiping your tears away, you said nothing in response. You knew he was right, but the last thing you needed was to give in. It’d make you crumble, it’d make this whole situation real and you knew where you’d end up. 

Your conversation ended when Bucky walked in the room.

It was the right decision after all. However, Bucky’s chest ached knowing how low you were feeling. Knowing that you were doing everything just to get by, yet nothing at all. He hadn’t seen you in a melancholy state for years, but it always scared him. He barely made it out of his own episodes sometimes, panic manifesting through his bones. His worry only worsened at the thought of not being able to pull you from the darkness, the way you’d done so for him many times. 

Seeing you under the sheets, sound asleep past noon didn’t settle Bucky’s own anxiety. He was out on this mission for eight days, but you’d sounded okay when you spoke to him over the phone every night. 

Were you not getting any sleep? Were you falling asleep really late? Or was your current funk really getting to you?

Bucky set his duffel bag on the floor, shutting the door behind him. He decided against opening the curtains until you were awake, sitting on the edge of the bed next to your sleeping body, placing his flesh hand on your cheek gently.

“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning down and kissing your forehead a few times. “Let me see those pretty eyes, doll.”

Furrowing your eyebrows before peeling your eyes open, you were greeted with your favorite super soldier, a smile creeping on your face.

“Hi,” you said groggily, Bucky kissing your forehead again. “You’re back early.”

“Got the job done quickly,” he fed your curiosity. “What are you still doing asleep, doll? Are you okay?”

“What time is it?” You said, still unmotivated to get up from your lying position. 

“Almost 1,” Bucky answered before your eyes widened and you sat up, frantic about how the morning got away from you. “Hey, hey,” Bucky placed his hands on your shoulder, easing the tension a bit. “It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with oversleeping once in a while.”

You shook your head, avoiding Bucky’s gaze as you rubbed your eyes. “I shouldn’t have slept that long.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then your cheek, then pulled your hands away from your eyes. The bags under them didn’t go without notice, Bucky getting more worried than earlier. He knew you weren’t sleeping well, and him not being here to soothe you must have made it worse.

“Is everything okay?” He asked again, never getting an answer from you.

You sighed. “I don’t really know, I’m just- I’m always tired and don’t wanna do anything even though I know I shouldn’t just stay in bed. I was gonna wake up early today to see if I could get moving but then I barely slept and thought a few more hours could be useful but now—”

“Shh,” Bucky said, pulling you into his embrace, rubbing your back softly. “There is still a lot of time left in the day, but I don’t mind sleeping this Sunday away with you after the mission I just had.” He kissed the top of your head a few times. “We can shower then eat and then rest. Sounds good?”

You nodded, with a muffled ‘okay’ into his chest before pulling away, Bucky standing and grasping your hand in his to head to the bathroom. 

Bucky turned the shower on, letting it run to get warm before turning back to you. After you helped Bucky take his tac suit off, he helped you shed your pajamas. The both of you took your underwear off, Bucky checking the water before you stepped in. 

You always enjoyed showering with Bucky, most after a mission when you were both tired. Though this was different since you weren’t the one coming home, the sentiment of being tired remained the same.

Bucky could tell you were tense, that something was still bothering you. He never wanted to pry, so he massaged the tension out of your shoulders, getting you to relax your posture a bit. You both worked your way around lathering each other with soap, your eyes doing their usual routine of scanning Bucky’s body for any cuts and bruises. Bucky decided to wash your hair, finding any means of making you feel relaxed. You sighed under his touch, leaning your head forward to rest against his chest as he rinsed your hair.

“Steve mentioned you going back on the field again,” Bucky eased into the conversation. “You feeling up for it?” Much to Bucky’s surprise, you shook your head, prompting him to lift your face in his hands. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You know you can talk to me.”

Sighing again, you leaned into his touch. “I’m not ready.”

“I thought you wanted to get back,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows.

“I do,” you nodded. “But I just feel so… out of it. Like my mind is out of fuel and it’s putting my body on pause. I have no energy lately, I don’t really know what’s wrong with me.”

Bucky looked at you, a hint of sorrow in his eyes. He’d been there, where his body was craving one thing but his mind just never allowed him to satisfy any of his desires. Depression didn’t always look the same, but he could tell when it was starting to consume you.

The restless nights, the fatigue, the lack of energy and motivation. It was a stark contrast to your usual, productive self. Sometimes Bucky would have to slow you down for doing too many things at once, so it pained him to see you not want to do anything at all. 

He decided right then and there he’d take a pause from any missions until you were okay. Until he could see the spark in your eye again, the pep in your step. The energy being revitalized.

“It happens, baby,” he reassured. “You’ve helped me through some of my funks, so let me help you out of yours, hm?”

“You don’t have to, Bucky,” you shook your head, but he shushed you, a chaste kiss placed on your lips. “I’m serious, you don’t have to pause your life for me. People still need help and I’ll get out of my fatigue stint eventually, so—”

“You know you’re not gonna convince me otherwise, right?” He shut you up again, offering you a smirk and another peck to the lips. “I would drop everything for you. At any time, on any day, at any given moment. You are my world, doll. If you’re not okay, then my world isn’t okay.”

“But what if they really need you—”

“They won’t,” Bucky grabbed the comb to detangle your hair. “Now come on, let me help you ease your mind, hm?”

Knowing you couldn’t say no to him, you turned so your back was facing him, Bucky smoothly getting any knots out of your hair. 

He knew how much you loved it when he did your hair, knowing the process was super long and you didn’t want to do it half of the time. When he first heard you complain about having to do it, he made you teach him your whole routine for whenever you were feeling unmotivated to. It was one of many things he eagerly learned for you, always wanting to pamper you. 

Feeling a bit overwhelmed over the fact that you had him back, here with you as he did everything in his power to clear your head from the anxious thoughts, you couldn’t help but tear up. 

When he finished detangling your hair, holding it up with a clip, he saw you crying, quickly pulling you in his arms, kissing you everywhere he could. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he said, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Once he let you return the favor of washing his hair, you made him sit on the built-in bench in the shower so you wouldn’t have to reach up the whole time. 

Bucky loved touching you, but he swore to everything that he loved your touch even more. Your hands were so soft and gentle, with each lather and rinse of his head.

“Your hair’s getting long again,” you said, running your fingers through Bucky’s brown locks, the length now passing his ear. “Are you gonna cut it?”

Bucky shrugged, his hands finding comfort in your waist as you stood in front of him. He placed a kiss on each of your hips then your stomach before looking up at you.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he answered before standing, kissing your lips again. He knew how much you liked his short hair when he first cut it, but deep down you loved his long hair too. You just never forced him to keep one or the other, knowing how many memories his hair held.

Bucky loved how well you knew him, how well you understood him. It was the main reason why he took his time to do the same for you.

Once you were both out of the shower and dressed, Bucky picked up his phone to order some food. You’d told him you were craving Chinese the night before on your phone call while he was away, so he ordered all of your favorites as you finished drying your hair in the bathroom.

After eating dinner, Bucky slid under the covers of your shared bed, extending his metal arm for you to grab as you slid in next to him. Your head found its usual spot on his chest, both of his arms encasing you in the pressure you sought so many times, your left leg over his right one. 

“Thank you,” you said softly as Bucky rubbed your back just the way you liked it. “For never judging me.”

“I would never plan to,” he said, using his right hand to lift your chin up. “We’re human. We have our moments where we need a break, a reset. You taught me that when I needed to hear it. Don’t think that it excludes you, my love.”

Leaning up, you pressed your lips against his in a soft kiss that said more than enough. 

Pulling away, you looked into those blue eyes that meant the world to you.

“What would I do without you?”

“Force yourself to do your hair routine every week,” Bucky joked, making you roll your eyes playfully with a smirk.

You pressed a kiss on his chest before laying your head on it again. “I love you.”

“I love you more, doll,” he said, massaging your scalp to soothe you until you fell asleep.

Bucky could watch you be this peaceful forever, vowing to spend the rest of his days making sure you were okay. He always knew you’d return the favor, enjoying every moment spent with you like this, comforted best in his arms.

[slut4thebroken]

Mark The Day

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jackson Rippner x reader

Summary | Jackson wants an heir, so he buys a slave from an underground breeding farm.

Warnings | NON CON, smut, sexual slavery, dark, dead dove do not eat lmao, vibrator, overstim, multiple orgasms, breeding, light humiliation/degradation, mentions of branding/inflicting harm on reader, bondage, dehumanization, AU?

Words | 2k

Notes | Idk I tried to keep the focus on reader only and not really write anything about the ‘other women’ but I kinda had to a tiny bit just for the ‘plot’. Hopefully it wasn’t too much tho😓

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 16: sexual slavery

Read this first ❤️🫶

“As you can see, we make sure to thoroughly train each slave.”

Jackson glanced around the room, but his attention was drawn to you. You weren’t acting out, but you were significantly more jittery and visibly anxious than the others. “What about her?” He asked, pointing at you. 

“Arrived at the facility a week ago. We’ve just begun the training process…” Jackson continued admiring you, taking in the way your red rimmed eyes looked around frantically and your body trembled. “If you’re interested, training should be complete by the end of the month.” As the man spoke, Jackson glanced around the room, taking in the other, more docile girls. 

“No need.” He said surely, turning back to the man who hesitated. “I’ll take her.”

“I would strongly advise against that, Mr. Rippner… She’s far from obedient and the fertility treatment hasn’t started yet.” 

“I know. I’d like to break her in myself.” His eyes strayed to you again and his lips curled up into a small smile. “How long does the fertility treatment take?” He asked, not looking away from you. 

“We usually wait two weeks before putting them on the market.” 

“Can it be done in one?” 

The man paused for a moment. “I’m sure.. for the right price, we can make that happen for you, Mr. Rippner.” Jackson turned to face him, his expression relaxed but also a little amused at the man’s overt attempt to upsell him. In response, he held his hand out to shake on the deal. 

“May I?” He asked, pointing to you. The man just gestured to you, silently giving permission. Jackson walked over to you and you tried to back away, but the chain connecting your collar to the floor wasn’t long enough for you to be able to escape him. He crouched down in front of you and examined you closely with a small smirk. 

“You’re a pretty thing.” He murmured, hungrily dragging his gaze down your nude body. When he lifted his hand to grab your chin, you flinched away from him, making him chuckled softly. “And scared too… We’re going to have a lot of fun together.” 

A week later, Jackson returned to pick up his new slave and take you home. “What’s your name?” He asked, making you falter. After a moment, you gave him your name, your voice timid and full of fear. “Jackson.” He responded, guiding you through the house to a room. 

“You’ll sleep in the crate in my bedroom. However, for our play time, I set up the spare room just for you.” He smirked predatorily, watching you walk inside. You looked around, feeling your stomach churn as you took in all of the whips, toys, restraints, and furniture. 

“Fortunately for you, I’m not a cruel man.” He pulled you over to a breeding bench and bent you over it, strapping down your wrists, ankles, and torso. “So between most breeding sessions, you’ll spend your time right here.” You could hear movement, but you couldn’t turn your head enough to see what he was doing. Then he was suddenly walking in front of you, now holding a ball gag. You clenched your teeth, trying to keep him from putting it on, and he sighed. 

“Either I put this gag on and continue as planned, or I whip your ass until you bleed, and then put this gag on and continue as planned.” Your bottom lip quivered as your gaze shifted between his face and the gag. With tears in your eyes, you reluctantly opened your mouth. “Good girl.” He secured it, then brushed away a tear that escaped your waterline. 

You flinched when he suddenly stood up, but he just moved behind you again, out of your field of vision. As soon as you felt something press against your clit, you stiffened, then cried out when he turned the vibrator on. He seemed to be debating what speed to set it at, but eventually he settled on the highest setting. 

“There we go.” He smiled, stepping back to admire his work. Your legs were already quivering from the intense pleasure and he could tell you were trying to hold back your sounds. Walking back in front of you, he grabbed your cheeks and lifted your face as he bent down. 

“That feel good?” He cooed mockingly. You sobbed out a moan and squeezed your eyes shut, your brows knitting together in an adorable display of agony. “I bet it does.” He chuckled. “Like I said, I’m not completely cruel. I know you won’t ever be turned on enough for our breeding sessions to not hurt you— at least, not yet.” When you whimpered around the gag, he released you and stood back up. “You’re welcome.” He said dryly. 

You could hear his footsteps as he walked and you were already dreading whatever he was going to do next. Instead, all he said before slamming the door shut was, “Enjoy your night.” 

The next morning, he woke up and took his time making himself breakfast and getting ready for the day. Eventually he decided to check on you.

Your sounds were audible before he even opened the door and once he stepped inside, his cock twitched at the sight. “Oh wow.” He chuckled, stepping closer. At the sound of his voice, your crying intensified and you started pleading through the gag. The vibrator was still going strong, but it was covered in your come, and there was a puddle beneath you, so you either squirted, or pissed yourself. 

“Maybe I should’ve let them train you a little longer.” He smirked, slowly making his way to the front of your body. “Do I need to get you some pee pads?” He cooed, making you cry harder. Once he was in front of you, he grabbed your hair and yanked your head up, relishing in the image of your flushed, tear stained cheeks and the saliva that was steadily drooling out of your mouth around the gag. 

“How was your night?” He asked, only making you more distressed. You were sobbing so hard that he could even see the snot leaking from your nose. With a sigh, he released you and walked behind you to turn off the vibrator. Your whole body sagged in relief, your muscles still twitching weakly. 

Leaning closer, he used one hand to grab your ass and pull it open a little, while the other dragged through your slick folds. You let out a choked sound when he pushed two fingers inside you without warning. 

“Perfect.” He murmured, slowly fucking them in and out of your drooling hole. You were still so tight, but he would at least be able to fit his cock in there. You whimpered and squirmed a little, barely able to move in the restraints, and he let out a low groan, unable to wait any longer. 

Your body went completely rigid at the sound of his belt buckle, but he ignored it, opening his pants frantically and taking out his length. He moved the vibrator away for now and lined up, then immediately pushed in, forcing a strangled cry out of you from the sudden stretch. 

He bottomed out with a grunt, taking a moment to admire the sight of your pussy wrapped tightly around his cock. When he pulled back, it was already glistening with your arousal. It didn’t take long for him to get desperate enough to speed up, starting a punishing pace that forced little breaths and sounds out of you with each thrust. 

Once you started moaning, a smug smirk took over his face. “See? You would’ve been screaming and crying if not for my compassion.” He said, feigning concern. He reached up to unbuckle the gag and let it drop to the floor before adding, “What do you say?” 

“T-Thank you.” You choked out, voice hoarse from moaning and crying all night. 

“Try again.” He ordered with a sharp smack on your ass, forcing a strangled sob from you. 

“Thank you.. master…” The way you trailed off made it sound like a question, but he decided to let it slide this time and focus on fucking you. 

“Good girl.” He groaned, speeding up. “You’re exactly what I wanted, bitch. You still have some fight left in you, but it doesn’t take much to beat you into submission.” He chuckled, imagining all the ways he could force you to submit if you were ever disobedient. He was so excited to see your pretty skin covered in bruises, welts, scratches, bite marks, cuts— everything. He also made a mental note to brand you soon since he was now completely certain that you were the perfect slave he’s been searching for.  

The wet sounds of your pussy were obscene as he fucked you hard and fast, trying to savor his first time fucking you, but unable to hold back because of how good you felt squeezing his cock. 

“God- I’m already close.” He groaned, already deciding to do another breeding session in a couple hours, instead of waiting until tomorrow. “Your cunt feels fucking incredible.” You whined, but the way you clamped down on his cock was unmistakable. 

“Mark the day, pet. You’re going to officially be my breeding slave in a few minutes.” He smiled, making you stiffen, then start thrashing. 

“No!” You yelled, trying uselessly to escape the restraints. 

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t know what you were being sold for.” He scoffed. “You underwent the fertility treatment, didn’t you?” 

“Please— please don’t..” You sobbed, still trying to break free. 

“This is happening, cunt.” He growled bitterly. “I paid for a slave that would give me an heir and that’s exactly what you are.” 

“Please pull out!” You cried, becoming hysterical. Jackson groaned, feeling his orgasm rapidly approaching as you continued begging and sobbing. 

“Keep fucking crying, bitch. It only turns me on more.” He said with a dark chuckle. This was exactly what he wanted; some fight. He didn’t want a broken, docile slave who took his abuse willingly. He wanted a slave who still had hope that this wasn’t her new reality, and you were still clinging to that desperately. 

His hips stuttered for a moment, then he slammed in with a grunt, fully sheathing his cock inside you. Your pussy fluttered around his twitching length, greedily taking his come despite yourself. You were crying almost violently now, babbling out senseless pleas for him to stop, but it was too late. 

When his orgasm finally faded, he panted for a few seconds, then slowly withdrew his cock. It slipped free with a wet squelch and he quickly walked over to grab the internal vibrator he bought for you. He pushed it in, keeping you plugged up, then took off all the restraints and lifted you upright. You stumbled when he dragged you over to the bed, then whimpered when he threw you down onto it. 

He started with your wrists, tying them to each corner of the bed. Then he pushed your legs up and bent you in half, letting him tie your ankles to the headboard, keeping your cunt angled up a little bit so that his come could have a chance to take. 

He stood back to admire you for a moment before remembering the last detail. You watched him walk over to grab a cloth of some kind, then you tried to turn your head away when he moved to tie it around you as a gag, but it was no use. 

“There we go.” He smiled proudly. “Now, I have some work that needs to get done before our next breeding session so you’re going to be a good little slave and stay right here.” He chuckled at his choice of words. When he turned on the internal vibrator, you screamed around the cloth and squeezed your eyes shut, feeling far too sensitive after the rough fucking. “See you in a few hours for round two, pet.” 

[jarofstyles]

Flower 3

Hi my loves! I am so excited to give you guys an update on our flower petals. Don’t kick my ass for the ending xoxox

Flower masterlist

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WC- 5.3k

Warnings - talk of kink, mega sexual tension, daddy kink if you squint really hard hehe

Her head was still dizzy even after sitting in the front seat and letting him out the bags in the back. She did her job as good passenger and placed the coffees in each cup holder, but she was spinning. Her hand still tingling and warm from how he held it through the parking lot like it was common practice, like he was her boyfriend. 

Would he want to be?

He’d already said he didn’t do hook ups. Gia had pointed out that he wasn’t normal around her and Sarah had agreed. Fuck, he just spent over two hundred on her and didn’t bat an eye. Maybe he did, and maybe she was itching to find out what sort of questions he’d want to ask. 

Weirdly, she wanted him to cross lines. He was always so polite and sweet, despite his dirty jokes at times when he was tipsy. With her, he was usually the poster child of a gentleman. He took care of her and did all sort of sweet things to her, leaving no question about if he cared about her or not. . The words he had said on the car ride here about a guy being sweet out in public and a freak in the sheets echoed around her head as he climbed into his seat, making the thoughts start to dissipate. 

“Aren’t you jus’ the best little passenger princess.” He snickered, putting the keys into the ignition. Her eyes tried to ignore the way the little smirk on his face bade her stomach buzz, but it was a hard thing to look past.

“I could have spit in your coffee. You never know.” Her tease was met by him picking up the cup, looking her dead in the eye as he took a sip. Oh. Well then. “You sicko.” 

“Maybe.” He shrugged his seatbelt on after his little display. “But turning the radio on doesn’t mean you are safe from my questions.” 

“I’m not trying to hide from them! I just don’t like awkward silences and I’ve no clue what you’re gonna ask me so I was making sure we weren’t in danger of one.”she sniffed, pointing her nose up a bit. It was a bit of an act considering she was, indeed, trying to hide a little bit. In fact, she was incredible anxious to know what he was wondering about. “Go on and hit me with one.” 

“Alright. When did you start reading those types of books?” 

“Those types.” She scoffed at the phrasing. It was a relatively tame question with a not so savory answer. “Make me sound like it’s something crazy. But the answer is way too young. Probably 14, 15. I checked one out at the library. To be fair, the first time I didn’t realize it had anything like that in it. I just liked the cover and it seemed nice. One BDSM adjacent book and unsupervised internet access search later and I was finding out all sorts of phrases I didn’t need to know.” It was hard to say if she regretted it now, but she did think it was a little early for that. Then again, most guys her age then were doing their own exploring so it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. 

“Hm. Interesting… did you ever get caught with one of them at that age? I’d imagine your parents wouldn’t love that.” No, they most certainly would not. 

“Thank god, no. It would have been mortifying. Now I know that my mother has her own little stash with the shirtless guys and the historical romances though, so it wouldn’t have been like she had a leg to stand on anyways.” That was something she was still thankful for. “Did you ever get caught watching or looking at something?”

From the wince on his face, he absolutely did. “Yeah. It’s just as bad as you think it is. It was my dad, which is only marginally better than it being my mother, but he didn’t seem very phased. I think I was more embarrassed than he was. He never brought it up, but I remembered to lock the door each and every time after that.”

“Oh, that’s rough.” Y/N hissed in sympathy. “My parents worked a lot so it was easy for me to just explore things I shouldn’t have back then. Since you’re older than me, was it online or the magazines?” She was teasing, but he rolled his eyes. 

“Magazine, actually. I’m not that much older.” Five years, but it was enough to make a difference in how they grew up. “Don’t tease me. I see the age gap shit you’re reading.”

“It’s just fun and games.” She assured, brushing her hand over his shoulder playfully. Again, initiating touches. “Besides, I do like an older man so I’m not gonna make too much fun. Considering you did see the books I grabbed.”

He had been very interested in them, it seemed. Interested enough to hover and let her body feel his heat against her back, the burn still there if she let herself think about it too long.

“Yeah, actually I was gonna ask- which one are you the most excited to read?” It was a nice question, middle of the line- but she had a feeling he was trying to gage something.

“Hm. Reaper, that’s the biker club bad boy protecting her from a stalker one, or the Highest bidder. I’ve heard so much about both of them. I know the smut is good in Reaper because I’ve read snippets, but the jury is still out on the second one.”  They had both come highly recommended so she was excited to see if they were going to live up to her expectations. “I do like a good dark romance. It’s kinda hard to explain to people because some things you can enjoy as a fantasy but know in reality it isn’t really ethical, but they won’t get that.”

“I do get it, actually.” He nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “S’kinda like if you roleplay in bed or something. No one thinks you should actually be in a student professor relationship, but the premise of it is hot. A lot of it is like… power balances, kinda.” 

The ease Harry had of understanding sort of took her off guard. Y/N knew he was intelligent and had spent plenty of time with him to know that was the truth, but a lot of people she knew didn’t quite understand the layers there was to it. 

“Yeah, actually. It is a little similar to roleplay, I hadn’t thought too much about that as a comparison.” Now she definitely would. However… the fact that he had brought it up raised a whole new crop of questions… along with the fact she could see a slight shift in his body when she mentioned it. “Is that something you’re into, then? Roleplaying?” 

Her eyes watched as he tugged on his lip, using his one hand to steer the wheel while the other seemed to be self soothing a little bit. His forearm looked particularly good in this light, the veins standing out slightly as he squeezed over the leather. 

“Mm, outed myself a little with that one didn’t I?”

“A bit.” She giggled, crossing her legs. The question remained on what it was that he liked to roleplay? Was it the teacher thing? Nurse? Doctor? Something more risky? Now that she’d allowed her brain to entertain the not so safe for work thoughts about the man, it was difficult to filter them.

“I do enjoy it, yeah. It’s fun. It doesn’t need to be crazy or anything, but it’s fun to spice things up. I haven’t done a ton of it but it is an interest of mine. I feel like you can explore things with it being safe and being with someone you actually trust, so it’s easier to actually enjoy it.”

The explanation made perfect sense. Partially she was relieved that he seemed so intelligent when it came to sex, considering…. 

“Safety is big. One time a guy decided to choke me but he didn’t know how to properly do it.” She winced at the memory. “Bruised my neck. He felt really bad afterwards but it was obvious he hadn’t done any sort of real research into it and it was never discussed beforehand. Do I think it’s hot? Yeah, but not when it feels like someone’s about to crush my windpipe.” 

“Christ.” Harry sighed, exasperated at the story. It looked like he genuinely was astounded by how bad the guys she had been with had behaved. “I feel like that’s kink 101, innit? You learn how to spank and choke without causing the real damage. Fuck, M’sorry that happened to you. Did it make it hard to enjoy it again?” 

“For a little while, yeah. Like you said before, hookups aren’t really my thing anymore either but when I was more into the scene I made sure they either knew how to do it or didn’t do it at all. Sucks, considering it can make you feel ten times better.” It depended on the person for sure, but for her? The head rush made it so much better when she came. 

“Yeah, I can only imagine. I’ve never really had a horror story like that for me. Anyone I’ve been with knew how to do it and I figured it out early on, but I did have one girl who tore up my back really bad. Not in the sexy way with marks for a few days, but one got infected and it was a whole thing. I like pain, but not something that’s gonna actively harm me later. I don’t think she meant to do it either but sometimes those nails are sharp.” 

Y/N squirmed slightly in her seat as he let out that little bit of information that she clung to. Humidity between her thighs wasn’t exactly something she had planned for today but it seemed like Harry had a manual on how to make her squirm. “First, I’m sorry that happened to you too. I feel like you’ll be able to know you’re doing too much and it shouldn’t ever be tearing up actual skin- unless you’re into that but obviously it wasn’t for you.” She winced, knowing it must have been a bitch to take care of. No one could properly do much for a back thing on their own. The whole reach around thing- a mess. “You can tell me to fuck off this time, but are you into both? The choking, then being choked too?” There was no better way to ask it without being direct, even if it made her feel a little weird to say. 

In the drivers seat, he bit his lip to stifle a grin before sneaking a look at her. “What? You think you’re the only one who should have that sorta fun?” Relieving the restraint, he let himself smile at her before his eyes took the road again. “I do, yeah. Both. It just feels good, doesn’t it? The head rush sort of thing. It’s intimate if you do it right. For either person, it can feel like… I dunno, like you’re theirs and they’re mine in that aspect. If it’s done right, it can be the thing to push you over the edge. Trusting someone with their hand around one of your most vulnerable points, it’s a bit thrilling- intimate.” 

Y/N knew Harry had some experience, knew he would probably be good in bed just in how he handled her in general. He was attentive and sweet, checking in with her, but unafraid to do what he wanted. He’s dragged her into his lap and rested his chin on her shoulder, easy to ask her for a cuddle and to play with her hair- but he’s been respectful about the whole thing. Part of her wishes maybe he’d maybe be a little disrespectful at this point. 

There was no doubt in her mind that Harry knew how to fuck. Just from these conversations alone, she knew he could handle himself. But knowing he was pretty dirty, the knowledge of him liking choking on both fronts, it made her feel hot under her collar. “Mm. Nice to know.” 

The response hadn’t been though through, because there were definitely connotations to that- but she let the words tumble out of her mouth without thinking. Her eyes widened as she looked down at her lap, going to open her mouth to respond something else, but the man beat her to it. As usual. 

“Is it?” He hummed lightly. “I’m glad you find it amusing.” 

“I mean, it is.” She had already dug herself a hole. “I just always thought it would be you doing the choking, I never considered the other way around”. 

“You’ve thought about it before, huh?” The smirk was audible in his voice, making her cheeks burn. God damn it all and her slip ups. Harry made her flustered and nervous rolled into a slightly bold ball of dangerous curiosity. 

There were a few ways she could’ve gone about it. Denial was the biggest one, but she’d already gone this far. Didn’t she want to push past the friendship boundary? The way her throat felt tight with him so close behind her at the bookshop while he asked her about her books, how she’d placed his hand on her inner thigh for him when they were out last night, she wanted to go further past the established boundaries. 

“A few times.” 

Her reply was breezy, though she certainly didn’t feel it. The swirling anticipation was bubbling in her tummy, a fluttering bundle of nerves expanding heat through her body. The atmosphere in the truck had been a little tight before, but it had been slowly morphing into a sexually tense mess. 

“Mmm. Nice to know.” Mirroring her prior response, she chanced a look at him. One hand still on the steering wheel, vein still making an appearance in his forearm making an appearance from the sunlight glazing inside the truck. But this time, his stubbled chin dipped into a dimple, a light smirk coating his lips and he was rubbing his hand over his denim covered thigh. His hands, god his fucking hands. They were sexy, sexier than she knew a man’s hands could be. He worked with them, so sometimes he had a few cuts or bruises on them, but he kept his nails trimmed and they were clean most of the time she saw them. The cross tattoo stuck out against his skin, tucked between his thumb and index finger. 

Impulse control didn’t exist as her finger reached out to trace said ink, running the tip of her nail over the symbol. “I dunno if I ever told you how much I like your tattoos but- I do.” She admitted lightly. “I love tattoos. I’ve always wanted to get some but I’ve been afraid.” 

Harry cleared his throat, stopping at the light to look down at her finger running back and forth on the top of his hand. The nail lightly running over the black ink on his sensitive skin, her eyes taking in the same thing. There was no move to remove his hand, letting it stay still as she continued the hypnotic movement and allowed her eyes to move up to his face. 

“Yeah?” His voice was slightly hoarse, showing that she did indeed have some effect on her. The confidence was building as the car ride went on, each little confirmation that he had affections over her making it easier for her to feel the motivation to keep going. Keep poking and prodding to see what would get him to snap. “It’s uh, it’s like…” The satisfaction of making him lose his train of thought had her a little drunk with power, moving her fingertips to his ring to twist it around. “It’s not that bad, for me. I like pain, but it’s like… irritating, maybe. There’s areas you should go for a first time, nowhere directly over bone. My sternum hurt but like… yeah. S’not that bad. I’ll take you to my artist if you want.” 

“Would you?” Y/N wasn’t stupid. She knew her cadence, the sweet way she said it would elicit a specific type of reaction from him, but that’s the point. “That would be so sweet of you, H. Maybe I’ll take you up on that. I think…” The trail of her fing moved up and down his hand and towards his wrist. “You do a lot for me, you know? You’re so kind and helpful, you help me out at my places and I think maybe we don’t hang out outside of that as much as we should. Do you know what I mean?” 

“I agree.” He nodded along to her statement. “Well- I hope you know I don’t mind helping you or anything, cause I don’t. I really like doing things for you. It feels nice.” That could be a loaded statement if she thought about it too long. Harry powered through it though. “But I would love t’hang out with you more individually. I know what you’re sayin’. S’a little annoying when we go out and people interrupt our conversations.”

Y/N giggled at that because, well, they probably shouldn’t be having those conversations of philosophy at the bar and then get annoyed the friends they came with interrupted them, but it seemed like Harry didn’t really like sharing her attention much as it was. “I agree. So rude.” It was obvious she was teasing him a little, squeezing him lightly before her attention was caught by him turning into the car park. “Oh, shit. We’re here already?” 

Part of her was sad because the sexual tension was so delicious and she had been a little hopeful he’d snap, but she really was hungry. 

“Yeah, but it’s okay. We can keep talking inside, then I’ll bring you home.” There was another pause as she could see him trying to figure out how to say something else. “Uh, or if you wanted, you can come over and swim for a bit? You left your swimsuit there the last time I had the cookout and I’ve been meaning to give it back.”

Y/N felt herself resist the urge to squeeze her thighs together. There was that preexisting knowing that if she went over to his place there was a very little chance they’d actually go swimming. It was hard not to get on her knees and nudge his prick right into her mouth even in the car, but maybe this was what edging was like. “Sure! Everytime we hang out at my house you find something to do.” She raised an accusatory eyebrow at the man. “Something to fix. Maybe I want all the attention for once.”

“Oh yeah?” He met her eye with a brow raise, making her realize she had accidentally been suggestive… but fuck it. 

“Yep.” She popped the last letter of the word before opening her car door and slipping out. “Let’s go! I’m hungry!”

——

The tension wasn’t exclusive to the car.

It didn’t break when they walked in, it didn’t break when they sat down to order and it didn’t break as they ate. If anything, Y/N was being a tease for one of the first times in her life. Brushing her foot over his leg, keeping her eyes on the menu when they browsed it, sucking some of the chocolate from her milkshake from her fingers, bumping their feet together, it was thrilling. 

Harry’s eyes were dark, almost constantly on her. Y/N could feel his stare when she looked away, either to her food or when she had walked to the restroom to refresh herself. Her poor panties were completely useless now, but taking them off would do her no good. There was no doubt that this whole trip together had been working her up, but Harry had no problem in making it worse. 

After insisting on paying the full bill, Y/N walked a little bit ahead of him to try to get to his truck- only to be stopped by a hand on the back of her neck. Firm and controlling, he slowed her down to his pace. “I told you, I like t’open the door for you. So stop bein’ a brat because I didn’t let you pay and just say thank you.” 

And, oh- fuck. Y/N could have whimpered from the way he talked to her, rounded eyes looking up at his with her lip poking out slightly. His eyes were a darker shade of green and his jaw set in a way she hadn’t seen before. Had she been moving her hips a little more to see what he’d do? Yeah, a little. But it had to be a culmination of the fact that she’d been working him up all day and purposely acted up to see his reaction. 

“Sorry, daddy.” The apology held some sarcasm as they approached the truck. “Didn’t know I had to- oh!” Y/N choked out a gasp as she felt his hand release her neck, instead twirling her hair around his fist and stopping her straight. Her breathing hitched as she felt his lips come closer to her ear, the closeness of the man that had tormenting her poor body all day without even touching her cunt making her shiver. 

“Don’t call me that unless you want to be bent over my fuckin’ lap. Lots of attitude today from you, baby.” Baby? Oh, shit. The threat, the heat of his words, the grip, all of it had her knees feeling weak. “You’ve been a goddamn tease all day and I’ve been playing nice, so unless you want t’see my already thin fucking patience snap, I suggest you behave for me. Yeah?” The girl took too long to answer, apparently, because he tugged on her hair again to make it sting a little bit. “Asked you a question.” 

“Y-Yeah. I can.” Her voice weakened by the shock and pure arousal, she couldn’t form more than that as he unwound her hair from his fist, demeanor changing instantly with a soft kiss to her cheek. 

“There we go. Amazing!” He lightened up, opening the car door for her. “Wanted to hear that story about your neighbor and their Chihuahua, so why don’t you tell me that on the way to my place?” 

Y/N didn’t know how he switched to easily, how he wasn’t shaky and pressing her against the bench of his truck to show her exactly how impatient he could be, but she assumed he just had more control than she did. There was no more questioning in the grand investigation on if Harry was interested in her or not. It was safe to assume he was, and she was going to use every bit of that confidence to her advantage when they got back to his place. 

She’d behave for now. Let him help her into the car and tell him the story of the yappy thing that liked to eat baby carrots from her hand, be a good girl until they got to his house and the door was closed behind them. After that, though? All bets were off. 

——-

Harry’s house was a lot more rustic than hers was. 

It resembled a log cabin which really did attest to his whole lumberjack appeal. Contractor, wore flannels and tee shirts, his hair was a bit unkempt sometimes and he had that facial hair he grew out and shaved whenever it felt right. The wraparound porch was something she was eternally jealous of, along with the huge stone fireplace and step down living room. He had impeccable hardwood floors and an open concept bottom floor, skylights in the den and a back deck with a view of the mountains that would make anyone jealous. His pool was built into the hillside, his deck housing a jacuzzi and lots of seating as it sprawled down the length of his house. 

What was even better was knowing he’d put most of the grunt work into it. He bought the house and remodeled the whole thing, added onto it, renovated every nook and cranny while keeping the integrity of it. He worked with his hands and it was one of the sexiest things about him, she found, and that itself had her clenching her thighs as he opened the front door with her bags of books hanging off his arm. 

They were not light but he carried them like it was a bag of feathers. Another thing that made her feel out of her mind with hormones. 

Her brain hadn’t been able to stop repeating the way he had reacted to her playfully calling him daddy, how he had helped himself to her hair and took control of her. How he’d been sweet with her after, giving her cheek a chaste kiss before helping her into the car and listening intently to the story of the neighbor and her dog before letting the music turn up and them sit in their own silence. 

She wondered if he had been thinking about it too. 

Once the door was open she was happy to follow him inside, the smell of lemon hitting her in surprise. Usually it smelled like pine and something a little more musky. Like he could read her mind, he placed the bags on the foyer bench as he toed off his boots. “Had the housekeeper come by earlier today, it’s the cleaning stuff.”

“Housekeeper?” Y/N blinked a few times. “Since when?”

“Since 3 months ago. It’s twice a week, a woman comes by to clean the house for me. I do the normal upkeep but m’usually busy, y’know? Don’t have a lot of time to do the deep clean- and if I’m honest, I’ve got no desire to.” He laughed, hanging up the over shirt he brought in from the truck over the coatrack. 

“Ah. I don’t blame you. That’s the only thing I find chenging about having my own place.”

She could technically afford a housekeeper but it wasn’t something she needed. “I kinda like doing deep cleans. I do them on Sundays and get everything ready the week. If I had your place I’d be excited for it. It’s so beautiful in here.” The compliment was an understatement. If she could have any place, it would be this one. 

Sure the long driveway was probably a little scary at night and being in the woods would take a little more getting used to, but she’d seen the sunset from his deck. It was breathtaking. 

“Well, you’re welcome to do that whenever you want.” He teased, taking the keys from his pocket and putting them on the hook. One of his toolboxes sat on the floor next to the shoe rack, slightly open. It was just so… Harry of him. “Can I get you something to drink?” 

“No, I’m okay.” She shook her head, looking back up at him. His broad shoulders and his pretty eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he looked right back down at her. It was easy for the heat to come back between them as she took a step forward, reminding herself it was the time to be brave. Her second heartbeat between her thighs was nearly demanding it of her. “I wanted to ask… what was that all about? In the parking lot?” 

Harry winced slightly, looking away from her as a blush covered his cheeks. Not the reaction she’d expected, but it was interesting nonetheless. “I… that was out of line of me. I shouldn’t have touched you like that. I’m really sorry, Flower. It was inappropriate and I don’t-“ his eyes went back up as her hands covered his forearms, lightly tugging to get his crossed arms to drop. 

“Harry…” she sighed. “Why are you apologizing? Hm?” It was her turn to get into his personal space, stepping into his form and running her hands up his arms.

Those built, inked, perfect arms that reminded her just how strong they were all the fucking time. Her hands clasped together behind his neck, allowing herself to lean into his body as she swallowed her pride and gave herself permission to go for it. To just fucking do it. “I didn’t complain, did I? Didn’t tell you I was uncomfortable?”

“No…” he said slowly, hands frozen by his sides as he looked down at her like he was slightly confused. Almost like he didn’t believe it. 

“I wasn’t uncomfortable. I looked like that because when you grabbed my hair and spoke to me like that… it let me know what kind of man you are.” 

“And what kind of man do you think I am?” His voice dropped, eyes hooking on to hers as his hands slowly dropped to her hips. The grip was light, curious, but his palms were warm and large and fucking perfect on her body. 

“I think you’re the type of man who can fuck me right. You’re so sweet all the time, H. So nice t’me, you make me feel safe and appreciated and beautiful… you always compliment me and refill my drinks. But I didn’t realize you don’t treat the other girls like me. You don’t grab them and put them in your lap. You don’t kiss their necks. You only do that to me.” It was a relief to know that much.  “And I’ve been a little oblivious to the fact you’ve been trying to touch me differently, but I think that’s enough of that. You liked to hear about my books, paid for them, paid for my lunch… kinda acting like a sugar daddy today, hm?” Her hair fell over her shoulders as she arched her head back, the firm wall of a man keeping her up as she did so. 

“I didn’t do it for you to touch me, Y/N- I promise.” He assured quickly, which was sweet. She already knew it though. 

“I know you didn’t. You did it because you’re a provider. You help me in so many ways, you’re the best man I’ve ever met. You’d do it for me over and over again, even if I didn’t catch on because you’re just good. So fucking good to me, and today….” Biting down lightly on her lip, she let out a quiet groan. “Today you drove me crazy. Kept touching me lightly and didn’t press too much, gave me all the answers I wanted and were so respectful about my own. It just let me know that it wasn’t stupid of me to like you. You’re the type of man who can take care of me. Aren’t you?” 

The question was answered with a low groan and his mouth falling on hers. Full and soft, he caught her lips with his own and exhaled against her as he hummed. Fucking finally.  Pulling apart with a soft click, he let out a laugh of disbelief. He couldn’t believe he was kissing her, that she was saying all of this- and neither could she. “If you let me, I will. I’ll take care of every-fuckin-thing you could ever want, baby. You’ve been driving me crazy since we first met, and I was patient but… you’re right.” Another kiss melted her, the grip on her hips not so gentle anymore. “I am a provider. So let me provide you with the pleasure I know you need.”

[mcondance]

listen…hear me out…i’m imagining stu falling for a real sweet girl but this girl is like yuck i know your reputation playboy and since he’s obsessed with the chase he’s really gunning for it maybe even calling her as ghostface, getting her scared just so stu can swoop in and be like awh poor baby here i’ll keep you safe <3 big mean ghostface can’t get ya when im around

we should form a collaboration. (this got so long anon. i blame you. 18+) this idea has my brain turning like it gets him going so bad to scare you and then be able to come back and be your savior. it appeases the side of him that likes the chase, and the side of him that likes being in control. i think they’re both linked to his need for dominance and his sadistic nature so this is a win win for him.

you know him through sidney’s boyfriend billy, but you’ve never said more than a couple of words to each other outside of the friend group. aware of his reputation, your answer to his question is easy.

you tell him no, that you wouldn’t touch him with a 3-and-a-half foot pole. (he responds in typical stu fashion. he slaps a hand over his chest, expressing how hurt he is by your rejection, a knowing smile etching across his face.)

and so begins the chase. you turn him down over and over again, inviting sidney to the dates he asks you on, saying that the movie he wants to see with you just isn’t your taste— even if he knows he heard you talking to sid about how you wanted to see it just the week before, stupid little excuses to avoid everything he asks you.

he doesn’t mind. your rejections of his advances let him feel the way he does when he’s shrouded in that fearful black cloak, coming up with more and more ways to get you.

he keeps his distance— ghostface, that is. stu doesn’t want to scare you yet. with occasional phone calls that he directs to more people than just you, he lets you off easy, makes it seem like it’s just random.

but he’s getting a little anxious, and he’s always been impatient. he wants you.

billy and sidney are out of town for the weekend. and you’re terrified, more and more people close to you have been turning up dead. you resort to asking stu to stay with you for the weekend.

if he gets you to fuck him while he’s “protecting” you from ghostface? god he’d feel so good. he never forgets his alter ego, the slasher that terrifies your sleepy little town, but playing as your loving, caring little “friend” is fun too. he thinks you’re kinda stupid, to let him stay over at your house under the guise of keeping you safe.

you’d changed into your house clothes when you both got to your house, telling him not to touch anything while you were gone. when you came out he was in a t shirt and shorts, and he looked awfully good.

you’d let him have some of your snacks, throwing a bag of hot chips at him and perching on the other end of the living room sofa. you’d turned on some long ass video essay, and he actually found it sort of interesting, quizzing you on what certain stuff meant before you got tired and wanted to sleep.

he thinks, maybe you do have a thing for him. why else would you let a freak like him stay over? whatever the case may be, he’s here. in your pretty pink and white bedroom, he almost scoffs at the softness of it all.

“‘s cute.”

“yeah. i put blankets and shit on the couch. you sleep there.”

his lanky body barely fits on the small chair, but he knows he won’t be there too long, so he doesn’t complain.

the blanket you gave him smells like you, and he basks in it. your room is silent, for a while. in the darkness, your mind gets to you and you’re so scared even with stu right there.

“stu,” you whisper.

“yeah?”

“can you come sleep over here? i’m scared.”

there it is.

“yeah, ‘f course.” he feigns genuine sympathy, though you’re smarter than that and no matter how hard he tries, there’s always a sliver of depravity peeking through his words.

you scoot from the middle of your bed to the one side, lifting the covers up to let stu take the other side. too terrified to even get smart with him, you welcome him into your bed.

what a terrible mistake you’ve made.

in the light streaming through your windows, he looks gorgeous, blue eyes gazing softly at your worried expression.

“hey,” he starts, reaching out to rest his hand on your shoulder. you don’t shrink away. you’re frozen. “i got you. promise i’ll keep you safe.”

he’s full of shit. but it works.

“can you just. . just hold me. don’t make it weird.” you scoot closer to him.

“i won’t. come ‘ere.”

shifting, you move until your back is pressed to his front. he wraps his arms around you, cradling you and your fragile psyche in the palm of his hand.

“d’you think he’ll try and come for me?” you ask him.

“i dunno. but i promise i’ll do everything i can t’keep you safe.”

god, he impresses himself sometimes.

“thank you.” you whisper, the words stuck in your throat.

“no problem.” you can feel him looking at you, can see him out of the corner of your eye.

with his arms wrapped around you, all the feelings you’ve gained for him over the past weeks come to a head. he’s warm behind you, and he’s holding you just tight enough.

you twist around to where you can see him, and if you were standing your knees would have buckled from his gaze.

“if i let you kiss me, would you promise not to make it weird?”

“promise.”

“okay,” you breathe. and you kiss him.

what a terrible, terrible mistake you’ve made.

it all goes so fast from there. one kiss turns into many and you’re turning around so you can face him all the way.

he’s got you on your back and his hand down your shorts before you know it. his lithe fingers toy with you, his mouth swallows every single one of your sounds, his body provides you comfort, a distraction from the murderer desecrating your safe town.

you come for him. you make a mess on his fingers, the ones he knows are soaked with blood. he could almost shout from how elated he is to have you wrapped around his fingers.

over you he moves, pulled by his collar on top of you and to your lips again. he wants to be smug about it, to note the lack of 3-and-a-half feet between you two, but he doesn’t.

instead, he kisses you like a normal boy would kiss a girl he liked. instead, he professes his protection when you make him promise again.

instead, he kisses you through the stretch of him entering you. “‘s okay, you got it. doin’ so good.” he could blow his load now, at the sight of you in pain and pleasure, at the sound of your hisses and deep breathes.

he slides home. inches deep inside you and even farther in your mind, he fucks both. he’s done this before, fucked a girl in a show of devotion that she’ll fawn over, a false bridge of vulnerability that he inwardly laughs at. it brings him satisfaction he can only get one other way.

you feel safe. safe as he pushes his hips against yours, his cock kissing and sliding against every electric spot inside you. his hand is warm on your cheek, cupping your face and the other is firm on your hip. you whine with each rock into you, body tingling, ears prickling as he groans in your ear. sounds he’s only ever heard on the other end of the phone.

with slow, calculated moves he makes you come again, and god it feels good. in the back of your mind you’re embarrassed, cause all it took was being afraid for your life and stu got you where you know he wanted you.

but stu’s been in this situation enough times to know what comes next, and how to prevent it. it’s easy, kissing you before you have the chance to keep thinking and fucking you to another orgasm.

it happens again the next night. battered and paranoid, you’re being played into his arms and you don’t even know it. you’re embarrassed about it, but in your clouded mind it feels genuine. it feels like stu really cares. at first it didn’t, but now that he’s still coming around even after he got you in bed, maybe he does care.

sidney comes home and stu goes back to his and billy's place. you think you can calm down with sidney back and stu and billy coming over occasionally. you let stu stay the night in your room sometimes, and he gets what he wants from you again.

your neighbor's killed. what the fuck, when will this end? this time, stu comes over, and he stays. you can't sleep a night without him. you think you're being targeted. the only time you feel peace is when stu's fucking your mind away. you’re reliant on him. in his absence all you feel is fear.

the phone calls continue, and stu’s there to answer them, telling whoever’s on the other end to go fuck themself. again, he plays you into his arms. “don’t think about him. think about me.” he tells you, guiding your face from the phone beside your bed to his, and he lets you close the gap. he likes letting you make the first move. it fills him with pride at his psychotic deception, the way he’s turned you into exactly what you said you’d never be.

he thinks about sneaking out to don the cloak, showing up at your doorstep just to see the horror in your eyes. he resigns to dialing your number when you’re out, calling you and listening to your voice as you realize who’s on the other line. he follows you out sometimes and watches your paranoid moves, blood coursing hot through his body every time you look over your shoulder.

at your house, he comforts you when you crumple into his arms, suggests that maybe, you shouldn’t go anywhere without him. you accept.

god, what have you become. if you’re not full of stu then you’re full of terror, and he takes pleasure being the bearer of both of these things. you belong to him, your thoughts, your body, your feelings, it all belongs to him.

he loves to hear you go over his and billy’s crimes over and over again, lives for the disgust and fear in your voice when you recount the murders. he could probably get off to it, to your sad little words. and at night, he revels in being the only one that can make you feel okay.

you’ve become the perfect victim, and he didn’t even have to flash his knife. maybe he’ll keep you around.

[queenendless]

🍑 Juicy 🍑

A/n: Reapplying to college got me anxious. Commissions have hit a dead end. Family drama is stressful.

And seeing fanart of so much Gojussy, all of it combined, really pushed me to write of it at least once. Many writing firsts for me on this so please go easy on me. Forgive me for my smut writing, it ain't no masterpiece.

Pairing: Top!Dom!Adult!Male!Reader x Bottom!Sub!Adult!AFAB!Gojo.

CW: 21+ MATURE CONTENT.

🔞 EXPLICIT SMUT! SO MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT! DO NOT REPOST, STEAL, COPY, EDIT, TRANSLATE.

Reblog, like, share, follow. Hope you enjoy.

Seeing that plump ass jutting out of a hole in the wall was what greeted you. Hearing his bubbly cheery voice become "Yap yap yap" in your ears as you lustfully eyed his wiggling cheeks. The dripping juices already trailing down that pussy along the rest of those barren legs made your libido stand.

Gojo's words get strangles in his throat as they turn to raunchy groans for your drooling mouth immediately covered his quivering cum lips. Your fingers parted the folds as your tongue dug deeply into his warm moist caverns. Rutting his hips backwards quite desperately made your ego spike, rewarded with your fingers now roughly rubbing his clit. "Mh~! Mmgh~! Ngh~!"

"The strongest sorcerer, reduced to the neediest slut." Your scorned remark reverberating against his cunt had him gushing hard down your throat and along your chin. "Bastard — AAH~!" Satoru's retort melted into carnal moans, those peaches squishing your face in with your nose deep in his albino pubes as you made out starvingly with his pussy.

"Nnh~ Y/n~! No wait – !" The fact that your skillful tongue hit that bundle of nerves was further proof of how beastly your lust is. No amount of cum devoured would be enough to satiate you. You were always parched for his milk. "I – I'm coming –!" He always came the moment he uttered those words.

Creamy thickness painted your face, stained the front of your clothes, splotched his quivering thighs and supple calves and toe-curling feet, forming puddles along the floor. You kissed those gooey flaps before diving right back on in.

His hands slamming and clawing the wall from the other side grew muddled in your ears as you became lost in his addicting sea of semen. He came at least a dozen times before your mouth popped off his, his ass and legs sagging in relief as his fatigued pants were heard from the other side.

"My beautifully depraved whore!" Feverish spanks to those jiggly phat cheeks came next. His erotic cries paired with his legs kicking in response, having you roughly grab him by his ankles, bending his legs, with your grip biting into his skin to remind him whose in charge. "My sweet Toru~"

Your sharp canines pricked his savory flesh. The red handprints and bloody marks on that once perfectly creamy skin always looked perfect, your inner wish being that you wished they would stay, as further physical proof that his ass is yours and only yours. "Take me already~" The eagerness could be detected in his breathy tone, his ass wiggling being the cherry on the top, got you pulling your dick out of its restrictions.

Clawing your nails into those dips he had for hips left scratch marks along with the bruises as you were sucked greedily in. Slamming relentlessly into his tight familiar jussy with gusto followed. "Too good~! So FUCKIN good~!" Your salacious groans made Gojo squirt harder, a ring of cum forming where you two intersect, and his legs hugged around your waist in his trapped angle.

The ardor in your thrusts was felt as the wall slams bounced around, the cacophony of your lewd shouts fused with his. Feeling you filling his abdomen to the brim was sheer perfection. You were reaching the edge. "Come to me, Toru~! COME~!"

Satoru came undone once again. Waves of fuzzy euphoria sparked through his very being as he came on high. The sight of your conjoined essence coming out between his marked rippling cheeks had you smashing your hips in pursuit of that ever-fleeting rush.

His lips fluttering around your staff, squeezing you for all your seed, pounding into him like the sex doll that he is to you, obsessively fondling and pulling apart his asscheeks in restlessness, Gojo's breathless wanton chants of your name, it all became a typhoon of desire that drowned out all sense of reason.

When it finally came time to come down from your highs, your shaft temporarily deflated, staying within him, slacking against the wall for support, picturing Gojo's messy hair sticking to his flushed dazed heaving face, wanting to see that face in person. "Y/n." His whispered plea just about did you in.

Demolishing the wall was all too easy. Getting your giant lover on his back, mating press him, your cock striking a new nerve bunde had him spurting along your V line as well as his stuffed oven, jostling your penis to life.

"Come for me again, Toru~ A dozen more~"

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 08

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

Masterlist

Tw: dead animal and copious amounts of blood

…

“Welcome to The Umbrella Academy, Number Zero.”

“Number Zero, get up.”

“Go to your room Number Zero.”

“Do what you're told, Number Zero.”

“Number Zero! Come here.”

“Stop crying Number Zero.”

“You aren’t a baby Number Zero.”

“No dinner for Number Zero.”

“You're not good enough Number Zero.”

“Stop misbehaving Number Zero.”

Phrases I've heard Reginald say time and time again. I hated that girl Number Zero, whoever she was.

My name is Y/n L/n, and Reginald Hargreeves knew that. But I hated him too because he made me like this. A freak of nature and it was clear he hated me too.

Not once would you ever hear praise and the words ‘Number Zero’ in the same sentence.

So I never understood why he adopted me if he couldn’t stand the sight of me. But deep down I knew why, it was the same reason why he adopted all of us children he needed our powers not us.

He would make me do whatever he wanted without concern or consequence. And nobody would dare tell him no, cause he did the same thing to everyone else around him.

I slept on the cold table for what felt like years, as my mind drifted to days I'd like to forget.

..

17 YEARS AGO

I stood alone in the middle of an unfamiliar room anxious for what was to come. There was no furniture or even windows except for a small wooden desk, and the only glow in said room came from the desk lamp.

Today was my first day of training, Reginald explained to me. And I was a scared twelve-year-old who’d just arrived at the Academy.

He stood in front of me, stopwatch in his bony hand. But he wasn't the only person in the room. There was another man I did not know, and all I can remember about him was how tall he was.

“Begin.”

My stance was shaky as a withering tree when Reginald uttered those words. I didn't know what to do, I just kept standing there. But the man didn't.

He inched closer and closer so I moved back, extremely terrified when it clicked in my head what the man was about to do.

“Do it.”

The man’s steps wavered, but he followed instructions. He raised the gun in his right hand and he shot me.

The sound of the bullet leaving the gun made the room shake and my screaming body instantly hit the cold wooden floor.

Then I heard the stopwatch start.

The bullet hit me directly in the heart. The man must've been some type of trained killer because of the way he would hit me with great accuracy each time. As expected I was still conscious but too scared to move, so I sat there paralyzed and cried. I cried because It hurt. I cried for my mother. I cried because that was all I could do.

Nobody in the room moved; they were waiting for the thing to happen.

And they didn't have to wait that long. At first, it felt like gears were turning in my head. But from the perspective of Reginald the somewhat dark room was illuminated by the swirls of bright light coming from my chest. Then I could move my feet and fingers and I could blink.

I sat upwards from my uncomfortable position as the bullet that had just been in me popped back out. And the spilled blood surrounding my body reversed back into my chest as well as my old bullet wound was completely healed.

I was as good as new.

“Again.”

..

“Number Zero, get up.”

Every day felt like a constant battle. I was beaten, mangled and killed every single day in new sick ways that he came up with.

“We have a lot to work on, Number Zero. You have missed years of training already. You cannot play anymore.”

I went to bed everyday yearning for it to be over but I kept coming back each day for more. I learned to fight from getting my ass kicked. He tested my durability and timed me, by telling me to break my bones and rip off body parts, just to see how long it would take for them to heal.

“You need to be better, Number Zero.”

“I'm trying!” I screamed but it fell on deaf ears. I'd never fought anyone before, he expected everything to be engraved in my head by day five. And when it wasn't he started taking things away.

“No dinner for Number Zero.”

..

I was angry. I threw tantrums, destroyed my room and hurt myself. Which never mattered to him.

“Stop misbehaving Number Zero.”

By thirteen I did what I had to but I tuned the world out. My thought process was whatever happened to me just happens and I'll always be okay.

He turned me into a shell of my past self. Who could kill whoever he needed and get back up whenever pushed down. And I don’t think anybody knew the extent my private lessons were going and I wasn't going to tell them either way.

..

“Number Zero! Come here.”

It wasn't only myself I had to heal, he tried to have me heal others too.

I'd found myself again in the same room where I was first trained. This time accompanied by a dog, I don’t remember what breed he was but he was cute and fluffy and I wished I could keep him.

The same man from before with the same gun stood against the wall.

“Begin.”

The dog was let off his leash and ran towards me. He licked my face, he wanted to play, he was a nice dog.

My happiness didn't last for long, because the man got off the wall and headed towards us. I hugged the small dog hoping that if I held him hard enough he wouldn't do what he was assigned. But that man always followed instructions.

“Do it.”

The fluffy dog was taken out of my arms. He barked in protest and tried to run back over to me but he never made it. He was shot right in his stomach. I burst into tears, trying to run out of the room.

“Stop crying Number Zero. You aren’t a baby.”

Reginald grabbed me and made me face the dying dog. He threw me towards him yelling a command.

“Do what you're told, Number Zero.”

I tried, I honestly did, but I couldn’t do it. No one told me how he just expected me to know how to heal the dog. I've only healed my mother and I wasn't even sure how I did that.

My hands were covered in the dog's blood as I sobbed. I thought if I just thought about it hard it would happen, and yes my hands did flicker but the dog still laid there dead.

“I can’t,” I whispered

I wanted to save that dog. I looked up at the disappointed Reginald, not knowing what to do.

“You're not good enough Number Zero.”

The dog's life force was officially gone. He was the first thing I let die.

I screamed and kicked trying to get my hands back on the dog but I was dragged out of the room.

“Mission one failed,” Reginald said out loud while writing in his book.

..

PRESENT DAY

“Miss Y/n, are you listening?” The ape snapped his fingers in front of my dazed face. I was still on the table in the operations room, and judging by Pogo’s restlessness I'd been here for a while.

I gasped while grabbing onto my head, which still felt partially bashed in. “How long have I been here for?” I asked him.

Pogo’s hairy hands went into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a tiny pocket watch. “Well, Master Diego dropped you off here around Nine pm yesterday and now it’s about a quarter till Nine am. Almost Ten hours Miss Y/n.”

“Ten hours and my head hasn’t healed yet?” My clasped hands moved from my head to my hair as I tugged and worried. “What’s going on with me, a—are my powers not working??” I started to hyperventilate. Without these powers, I'm sure that I’ll succumb to my injuries and die.

The ape shook his head. “Your powers are working just fine, don’t worry my dear. I've been here ever since Master Diego found me and told me of the situation. Your head is healing, yes, but very slowly.”

I didn’t want this to be the end, there was still so much I could do, but then again I've never actually put any thought into how it would go.

Being bludgeoned by a man with a kid’s mask on is not how I'm leaving this world.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves just as Vanya taught me a while back. Oh shit. “Where’s Vanya?”

Pogo looks away from me. “After the attack on the academy yesterday, your other siblings minus Master Luther deemed it was too risky for her to stay. Because she cannot protect herself like the rest of you..”

“They kicked her out?” I begrudgingly stood up from my seat. “Why do they always do that? I saved her. It's okay now, and she would’ve never gotten hurt if she wasn't looking for me.”

“Miss Y/n please, I don't advise you to leave you aren’t healed. Please sit back down, you can find her later.” He was right, even just standing up took the wind out of me.

Maybe my age was finally catching up with me and this is how my life will continue. I took a seat back down as I finally registered what I was wearing by looking down, I no longer had my jacket. Just jeans and my black shirt.

“Oh! I think Master Diego hung up your jacket back in your bedroom.” Pogo said, sensing my confusion. “It’s a miracle that thing had no blood on it or tears, I know how much that jacket means to you.”

“That’s very nice of him? I didn't know he had it in him.”

“Of course my dear, everyone worries for you. You always took beating after beating with no repercussions. It always amazed me. That being said, you need to be careful.” He explains.

I scratch at my freezing skin. “What?”

“Because you need to take it easy, yes you are formidable but that doesn’t mean you can go around just injuring yourself.” The monkey's accent enunciated every word.

I laugh. “Reginald used to think so.” Pogo stops mid-thought at the mention of him. He looks at me with sorrow in his big eyes. “Never mind that.” He says boldly.

“You took lots of hits yesterday even before getting your head caved in. Other areas of your body heal faster but the brain is such a febrile thing. You need your brain to be able to connect with your powers, being shot once is one thing. But being hit with such intenseness, you're glad your brain was still able to do it. Other times in the future you won't be as lucky, my girl.”

Thank God I stayed awake. No literally thank God, whatever grass field I woke up in felt like death.

“Stay here for maybe five more hours and it should be healed.”

My tense body shivers as I speak up. “Pogo I can’t wait that long, who knows what I missed I need to get back out there.”

“No, I’m prescribing you to stay here and heal your injury.” The short man said.

“Vanya has been kicked out, people just attacked our house, I haven’t seen Klaus and Five forever and who knows what the idiot patrol is going to do next!” I ramble while on my fingers everything that's been going on recently.

He looks up at my disgruntled figure.

“Pogo, please.”

He sighs. “There is a slight alternative, however, it's never been tested and is probably quite painful.” Pogo turns from me to rummage in a few shelves.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I'm afraid you're not going to be happy when you figure out what it is, Miss Y/n.” He yelled from the other side of the room. “I'm sure I've heard worse, Pogo.”

The man returns with an old wooden box covered in small detailed vines. “Your father was always worried that any moment could be your last. For example, If you were too weak to activate your powers or didn’t on purpose.”

“Once you were around fourteen, he started to work on your blood by gathering samples. He did things to alter the samples to create the perfect healing serum or just a boost for your powers.”

I told Pogo I'd be ready for any news but this had been terrifying. “When did he have time to even do that?”

“All of your checkups here in the operations room.” Pogo tilts his head down. “That’s when he would take samples.”

“That is so fucked.” I yell. “How could I have never suspected something was happening when I would be in here almost every day?”

“None of this is your fault, your father just wanted to make sure you're safe. Even if his measures were a bit forward.”

I shake my head at him. “Pogo, this wasn't out of love at all, don't you realize he only did this because he needed me for his purpose? So that I couldn’t get free of this. He only needed me alive for my powers, not because he cared.”

“I assure you your father meant well, somewhere in his heart. But now is the time to use it to speed up the process of your head healing.” Pogo lifts open the top of the box revealing a velvet inside. And rows and rows of tiny indents in the velvet that held little vials of liquid. This liquid looked exactly like my powers, even though it was made out of my normal-colored blood.

It makes me shudder thinking about what he did to it, and me. But I know I had to get it done if I wanted to get out of here. “Okay, so we just inject it into my arm? And I walk out of here after?”

“Not exactly..” says Pogo. “We don't know what could happen, it’s never been tested on anyone. But my best guess is to inject it right into the injury so it will spread there.”

“You mean you're going to stick a needle into my head?” I look at him in horror.

“Why yes, unless you want to take my instructions to wait here for five hours.”

“Grab the needle.”

..

After a bunch of hesitance and worrying Pogo had me lay down on the table fully. He walked up to my indented head with the syringe and without warning stuck it in my head. “Pogo!” I cry out.

The ape didn't respond, instead, he put the box back on the shelf where he got it. “How do you feel?” He asked.

At this point I didn't feel anything different from the splitting headache my broken head was giving me. “I feel the same-“

Then it started to hit me. It felt like a mix of adrenaline and crack all at once.

My powers shined around my head, the healing felt like it was moving faster than I could compute it. It made my body feel like it was on fire, and I signaled that to the ape by screaming out in pain. But it didn't last long because like I said, my powers were moving fast. I blinked and my head felt as good as new.

Pogo stared at me in shock at the display he just watched. “It’s a miracle!” He grins. “How did it feel?”

My eyes darted across the room trying to put into words, outside of my head, how the sensation felt.

“Well I wouldn't recommend it, but it got the job done. Hopefully, I never have to take that again. But thank you Pogo” I reply standing up while my wobbly legs try to position themselves correctly.

“I need to do something that's going to contribute. Either find Five or Vanya or talk to everyone else.” I mutter under my breath.

He stuttered wanting to say more and try to convince me any way he could but my path to the door was clear.

“Thanks again, Pogo!” I shouted over my shoulder. I wasn't even sure how the rest of the mansion would look after the attack, I just wished everyone was okay.

…

Aug 14 update:

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

good to see you posting lots the past few days! i loved your “little sister” hc for Garrick. would you write a fic in this same universe where the little sister is hurt or upset in some way and xaden’s not available so she turns to her big brother ?

Boyfriend Xaden x reader x brother Garrick

For what it’s worth

It was so rare to have a brother and boyfriend who got along. No drama. No stupid bickering. Well occasionally. But it was normal and they were both always looking for a way to get on one another’s nerves for fun. But you knew that deep down in their ways they were inseparable friends. Garrick had more than once told Xaden that was the only man he would allow to date his sister.l “You two can do whatever you want I just don’t… not in front of me”, he would scrunch his nose up at you two kissing.

“Here you are, been looking everywhere for you”, your brother’s voice snapped you out of your daze. “Just wanted to get some fresh air”, you lied. Xaden had been away on a mission for a couple of days now. To say that you had been anxious about it would have been an understatement. “I see right through you, remember?”, Garrick sighed sitting down next to you, nudging your shoulder slightly.

“He will get back. It’s Xaden we are talking about”, Garrick said reassuringly. “You don’t know that. What if he’s in some field bleeding out”, you whined pointing towards the distant fields in front. “What’s your heart telling you?”, Garrick asks turning to you slightly. “That he’s dead”, you whimper. “That’s your head, y/n, not your heart”, Garrick cut in firmly. You swallowed, trying to take hold of your emotions. “He’s… It’s just taking time”, you sighed.

“I know that you’re worried and I’m so happy he has you now doting over him but…”, “I’m not doting. If it was you I would be just as restless”, you grunted, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m touched by your words, sissy”, he dramatically sighed, making you flip him off, “Don’t go whining that I don’t love you enough”, “I promise you, he will be back”, Garrick reached out squeezing your hand, “Trust me on it”, he leaned in kissing the side of your head, “Come inside, if you get ill Xaden will be up my ass for at least a week”.

[zippidi-dooda]

I need to play a horror game with him

Or just see him play

Especially older ones that are all finicky and take getting used to

Like it'd be so funny

Getting angry if he can't finish the puzzles the first time (rarely happens),

"Who the fuck decided to make it this way?!?! I swear I did that exact thing a dozen times already!!!"

Breathing heavily if he can't click on something cause his character's not standing in that very specific spot and direction, spamming the button as he turns, hoping one click will eventually grab the item,

"Move Dumbass!!! Pick it up!!! It's right there, I've clicked a million times, oh my god!!!"

Flinching at sudden jumpscares, nervous grin widening on his lips as he shouts to get the foes

"Fu'kin' ... DIEEEE!!!!"

Rambling on and on as he explores the area with a grunt, anxious and angered energy building up the longer the game goes on

"This is a stupid ass game, there's no way people actually like this shit ..."

And random moments of dead calm and quiet focus as he approaches the end, brow furrowed and jaw jutting out in a concentrated pout

Then finally tossing the controller aside and getting up to leave, offering you a hand, only proud of his completion after he's had a moment to relax

"Shitty game. C'mon, get up, we're talking a walk. Been sittin' an' staring at that shit too long"

Just a full day of bundled up nerves and tremendous laughter as you watch him, but practically glowing as you both walk out to get that much need breath of fresh air

Just hope it ain't a game that would take longer than a day to finish. He likes to do things all in one go (100% completion) so it'd be stewing in his mind all night, but at least then you'd get sleepy pouty Bakugou

Can't see him as too much of a gamer though

[lxvenderdreamy]

💜The SDR2 Boys with an S/O who is drop dead GORGEOUS💜

[🍓]

Basically the sdr2 boys with an S/o who is just..perfect. Just absolutely beautiful, stunning, gorgeous.

🍊Hajime Hinata🍊

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

He is absolutely losing it.

He has never seen someone so beautiful like what the actual hell-

Hajime would be SO nervous to even go up and talk to you. Like he feels as if he isn’t good enough to even walk up to you.

When he finally gets his head out of his ass and talks to you, he’s a blushing mess and he’s stuttering while your just there like:ヾ(〃^∇^)ﾉ

He cant even look you in the eye.

Your beauty is too damn bright what the hell

When y’all start dating, he kinda has more control over how he gets around you since now he’s gonna be seeing you everyday!!

Sometimes he wonders why you would even care to date a plain guy like him while your just a walking model everywhere you go

He ain’t complaining though

on y’all’s first ever date he is anxious, like he’s sweating bullets.

what can y’all do on a island during a damn killing game

Like he did NOT know what to do or how to plan a date with you. He just did not know because he was everything to be absolutely perfect.

He was so relieved when you said that you didn’t care where y’all’s date was, just as long as your with your boyfriend then that’s all that matters

In conclusion, Hajime loves you deeply. He was kinda anxious and nervous when he first talked to you but now since you two are dating he’s more open to you. He doesn’t just love you for how beautiful you are, but he loves you for your personality. He loves you inside and out and that’s all that matters to him.

🍀Nagito Komaeda🍀

Okay-

…he’s more open to you when you first talk. But MANNNNN…he is cutting himself UP.

Like he feels like he doesn’t even deserve to be talking, breathing, looking, eating, or ANYTHING near you cause like your just…DAMN.

“Of course, a lowly person like me shouldn’t be talking to someone as gorgeous to you.”-SHHHH

He just can’t take it with you. Your just so MWAH.

Despite all the harsh things he says about himself, he actually is in love with you but is to scared to ask you out because…yeah.

So your gonna have to make the first move-but dont even worry about it girl. He’s not would, or is…he WILL say YES. Don’t even stress about it cause your gonna get that Y-E-S.

When y’all are dating, he treats you like a princess🩷

He loves you sm, despite being on a killer island he still tries to make it very loving and fun with you

Lots of hugs and kisses and compliments from him while degrading himself

You remind him so many times to the point where you lose count that he’s not trash and that he deserves all this love from you

He cant help it, at all

The date is at the beach. y’all play in the ocean and splash each other

In conclusion, he tries. He tries to make sure that you have fun and your always have a good day with him. Yes, he may be a handful with his comments about himself and..a little crazy in general but you don’t let that get in the way of your relationship. You love him, he loves you, you both love each other.

🐹Gundham Tanaka🐹

Definitely calls you a Queen of some sort.

Easily gets flustered around you and when talking to you.

Occasionally, compliments you and addresses you by calling you (whatever) Queen when mentioning you.

He allows you to pet his Four Dark Devas, the Dark Devas loves you sm

When he’s ready to confess, he would make it romantically dramatic but it’s also so cute. Of course you accept his confession and you guys are now a sweet couple.

He is so blessed to have you

On y’all’s first date is romantically special, it’s filled with you guys spending time together for the whole day holding hands and enjoying each others presence.

You guys sometimes sleep with one another. The dark devas would sleep on different places on you. Such as your head, waist, in the crook of your neck and even sometimes on your face. it’s really funny when you wake up with a sleeping soft hamster on your face, making you smile and laugh.

He loves your smile, your laugh, everything. Everything about you brings him love and joy

He tells you about his Ultimate, you happily listen to him as the dark devas lay on your head.

In conclusion, you two are very close. There’s funny times, happy times, and even awkward times with the two of you but even so, it’s great. It’s filled with so many things, things are new everyday with each other.

🔧Souda Kazuichi🔧

Where do I start…

Oh lord, OHHH LORD.

* chef kisses* He loves you. He is acting like how he was acting with Sonia.

He was kinda stuck on Sonia for a bit but he fell into your hands. He is an actual simp for you it’s not even funny at this point.

Compliments on the daily, ON THE DAILY.

Even when you look tired, all messy from bed hair he is still complimenting you regardless.

He treats you like a queen, he helps you so much, he is just blushing everytime you guys make eye contact or chat.

It doesn’t matter who confesses but…it would be you. Souda is very open to his crush on you, VERY open. He tells the others about you, talks about you constantly, thinks about you-

When you confess it’s a dream come true.

He hugs you so tight as he rambles on about how he also has a crush on you and tells you all of his feelings, which you weren’t listening to because you knew from the very start.

The date is fun ngl.

Y’all go to the beach, he buys you things from the store, you eat together (involves Souda yelling at TeruTeru for flirting with you)

Everything is just exciting.

You allow him to play with your hair when your bored or just for fun.

You guys laugh A LOT.

He gives the BIGGEST and BEST hugs and kisses. Like with kisses, he just kisses you all over. With hugs, it’s the most coziest, tight, hug you ever receive and it will be forever. It’s just amazing.

In conclusion, Y’all’s relationship is beautiful in its very own way. He’s a great boyfriend and is actually really happy that you have the same feelings for him as he does with you. It makes him happy that you would choose him over any guy whose probably better than him. Their not, in your eyes and heart he is the one for you.

💛Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu💛

Like always, he is a bitch on the outside..always and forever will be:.

But he is absolutely CRUSHING on you on the inside.

He tries to stay FAR away from you as possible, dragging Peko along with him.

Of course, Peko notices this and figures it out pretty easily that her master is crushing on you. She asks Fuyuhiko about it and of course he denies it completely but eventually gives up and admits that he is head over heels over you.

When you two finally talk (Peko was encouraging Fuyuhiko too be the one to talk to you due to him just running away) he is very bashful and stammering over his words as he curses at himself in his head.

You find this cute but you don’t want to get him all pissy cause this is the first time you guys talked and you noticed how he scrambled away when you try to talk to him.

After you guys talk a little more, a little more turns into more. He starts getting even more stressed about his insane crush on you.

Peko has to help him out with this and helps him confess his feelings for you.

He’s tsundere how you accepted his feelings for you and told him about yours but really, he is relieved that you accept his feelings and is losing his shit on the inside.

Peko helps him set up a small date at the cabin and tells everyone just to not bug y’all. God bless her.

You guys are food and chat happily, laughing and teasing one another in a playful manner. The date was a successful, funny, and playful time for the both of you and you guys enjoyed every single second, minute, and hour.

You guys hang out together most of the time.

Peko joins along and you two got closer of course, becoming the best of friends.

When Peko sadly passes away, you comforted Fuyuhiko and hold him close as you cried too. Despite this inconvenience, you two manage to stay close and be there for one another. Even when he had slit his own stomach. You were worried for him and stuck by his side in til he was better.

in conclusion, your love for one another is beautiful. It’s strong and lovable. You make sure that both of you are okay with all that’s happened and hold each others hand throughout it all, not losing or drifting away from one another. It’s a blessing, a hope, a wish. Something that’s beautiful.

[pandaswitch]

hihii im here to request for demon slayer please. Can I get some headcannons for when the reader is held hostage by a demon 😨 what will the hashiras do

Where’s my love?

➠ Summary: After days of no response from you, the hashiras are informed of how you were kidnapped by a demon.

➠ Type: Headcannons.

➠ Genre: Angst/Fluff

Damn, it took me a while to write this for no reason. I didn't put Gyomei because i didn't feel inspired. 😭

Tomioka Giyuu

Poor man.

He was already having no sleep because of how worried he was.

Starts cold sweating as soon as his crow says your name.

Like, he gets so anxious.

“How could I let that happen? I was supposed to protect them.”

If you’re a demon slayer he can somehow calm down.

After all, those are the risks of this job.

BUT IF YOU’RE A CIVILIAN.

Oh, poor Giyuu, he feels so guilty.

He knows the demon probably just kidnapped you because of him.

So, after saving you, he just wants to take a step back and get out of your life.

Well, he doesn’t want to.

But he would do everything for you to be safe.

Kocho Shinobu

Girly goes into killer mode.

How does that demon to even touch you?

She. Is. Pissed.

Before heading out to look for you, she takes the cruelest poison she can find so the demon dies slowly and horribly.

My girl is playing no games.

Now all her time is put into finding where you are.

When she does, it takes her a while to acknowledge you.

She’s too busy making that bitch of a demon suffer.

After the demon is finally dead, she turns around and looks at you with a gentle smile.

“Hello darling”

I’m scared of this woman.

But I love her so much.

Rengoku Kyojuro

His smile drops suddenly.

“How? When? Where?”

He can’t think about anything else, he just wants to save you.

He doesn’t even care if he’s still injured from his last mission.

That man IS saving you, it doesn’t matter if Muzan himself is the one that is holding you hostage.

Thank God it isn’t Muzan lmao.

When he finally finds you, he can’t help but sigh in relief that you’re okay.

“Hello Beloved! :D”

And after slaying the demon, he carries you home bridal style.

He just wants you to be close. <3

Uzui Tengen + wives.

Tengen was the one who got the news.

“How unflashy”

Not you ofc.

He’s talking about the demon.

I genuinely think he would be like:

“They’re one of my partners, they can handle that.”

And realize that it’s more serious when it had been 3 days and you still haven’t come back.

And when Makio starts berating him so he will go and look for you.

LMAO.

So, he comes to the rescue.

Oh boy, when he finds you, he talks way too much to the demon.

Maybe because he knows it won’t take him too much time to kill it.

He kind of feels guilty when he sees your wounds, meaning that you fought back, even without a katana.

“You did it well, I wouldn’t have expected less from you.”

Just like Rengoku, he carries you all the way home bridal style.

When you two get home Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru totally focus on you.

Hot bath, your favorite food, they basically just take care of you.

Suma braids your hair while Hinatsuru caresses your face and Makio is asking questions.

Tengen feels his heart warm at the sight.

Just there he allows himself to think what would’ve had happen if he hadn’t come in time.

Oh.

Now he’s holding the four of you tightly.

He’s just a big-ass baby.

Kanroji Mitsuri

She’s trying her best not to cry.

She knows she must handle this situation quickly, and there’s no time for her to cry.

Probably starts looking out for you on the spot.

If you asked her, she would drop a mission just to save you.

All serious and determined.

But probably she just completed her mission faster, without any distractions and left right after it.

MY WOMAN JUST SKIPPED LUNCH TO SAVE YOU.

This girl is going to find you, it doesn't matter how hard it is.

And she does, killing the demon takes her a little while but she does it without injuries.

AND THEN.

She turns around and looks at you with teary worried eyes.

SHE’S A BABY.

Runs to you and hugs you tightly.

“WAHH, I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU”

People would have thought you were the one who saved her.

Tokito Muichiro

“Who?”

Okay, just kidding.

His memory is not that bad at this point.

He stays there for a second, looking into the void.

All the possible plans run through his mind.

What is he going to do?

When he comes back to reality, he realizes that he’s hyperventilating.

The only time someone he loves that much has been in such a dangerous situation was when his twin died.

“Okay, calm down.”

He’s a hashira, isn’t he?

He is supposed to protect you.

That’s the only thing that matters.

And he does, he spends 24 hours straight looking for you, with no break.

When he finally finds you and the demon, he slays it fast and tries his best not to lose control of his emotions.

When he kneels in front of you, he doesn’t say anything.

He just starts caressing your face, a small and relieved smile on his face.

He’s so glad you’re okay.

Shinazugawa Sanemi

If I was scared of Shinobu.

I’M FUCKING TERRIFIED OF THIS MAN.

He goes WILD.

Looks for you like crazy, probably shaking out of anger.

He probably cut a few trees while on the way to where he thought you could be.

And by cut, I mean he punched them until his knuckles were bleeding.

When he finds the place, he has no mercy.

Like, he takes his time.

He doesn’t even cut the demon’s neck.

He has been torturing it all night.

But how does it dare to touch his beloved partner?

And when the sunrise arrives, he drags it out, so the sun burns it.

After a while, he comes back and carries you on piggyback.

“Don’t ever do that again, idiot.”

Iguro Obanai

Just like Giyuu, he starts blaming himself.

“This wouldn’t have happened if I was worthy of them.”

But more in an internal rage kind of way.

First of all, he takes his time to break stuff.

He isn't usually violent but he can't help but be furious at himself.

Poor Kakushi had to clean his state.

It doesn't take him long to find your location.

He makes it fast, the demon was talking when he cutted his neck.

Obanai doesn't wanna know its reasons, he just wants you to be okay.

He doesn't say a word, he just caresses your face, checking if you're hurt.

He takes you home, it doesn't matter if you can walk he is just going to carry you.

"I'm sorry" that's the only words you're gonna hear from him in a while.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 11

part 1 | part 10 | ao3

cw: period-typical homophobic language, explicit sexual content (if you are under 18 then kindly GO ON NYOW GIT come back when you grow your first gray pube)

It feels crazy, after all that, to just get up and face the day. Feels like last Fall all over again: he’s concussed in the back of class getting bagel crumbs on a worksheet with his face still pulverized. There’s a gross pang in his chest as he goes about his morning routine, his heart all squishy and bruised like some dickhead smashed a plate over it, but whatever, he guesses. Public education and minimum wage wait for no one.

Robin grills him the whole car ride: “Oh, my god, is he okay?? Is he alive? Is your mom okay? What the hell, Steve?” and he lets her ramble with wide, worried eyes; doesn’t even get to the part about Eddie. When they pull up to the school she gets out of the car and comes around to his side, knocks on his window and leans in when he rolls it down to give him a ridiculously long hug.

"Robinnn," he grumbles; his face is mashed against her boobs. "People are gonna think we're dating."

She bends to hug him tighter still, her bony ass hanging out his window where the whole school can see. "I'd date you in a second."

"You've literally said that you wouldn't."

"Platonically, I would!!"

She gives him one last squeeze, and he watches her waddle off, trumpet case awkwardly smacking her calves.

And then he just... goes to work. He goes to stand around a nearly empty store and pretend like he even has any work to do, restocks the already full displays of candy and buffs the countertops until they shine. Three hours in and he's run out of ways to look busy and Keith is “doing admin stuff” in the back, so he gives his mom a call. Makes sure she's okay; did she eat anything yet; any updates on Ernie?

She’s fine, she's not hungry, he's alive but that's all they know for now, her tone distantly polite like Steve's nothing more than a friendly cold caller.

He shoves his fingers in his eyes ’til he sees stars when they hang up.

He calls the Henderson house next, leaves a message to apologize for skipping out early, promises that he'll be there next Wednesday and he can bring dessert this time. There’s a lunch rush after that, but the day still drags like a bad hangover, a dull throbbing in his bones, and when he finally gets home he collapses onto his bed and passes out on top of the covers with his dumb work vest still on.

—

Eddie's acting weird.

Steve sees him again on Friday, spots him and his uncle having a smoke out on the porch and wanders over to say hello. Wayne seems happy enough to chat; gives him all the news on Ernie — "Bastard's unkillable," he says, almost impressed. He’s stable now, should be home any day.

Eddie, on the other hand, spends the entire interaction behaving like a skittish cat, eyes darting to and from Steve, leg jiggling as he quietly puffs his cig.

Steve half expects him to slink off and come back to drop a dead mouse at his feet.

He feels his brows knit together, agitation creeping in. It's not like he thought they'd be best friends after a single night of ceasefire or anything — as if they'd start braiding each other's hair and trading their deepest, darkest secrets or whatever queer shit — but like…

He thought they might be cool now. At least a little bit.

And Eddie's not being rude to him, exactly, but that's somehow even worse. The polite disinterest. The subtle shift to the left. Back and away.

“Okay, well, uh...” Steve glances at Eddie, who's looking anywhere but him. Fucking fascinated by a loose thread on his ripped jeans, apparently, plucking at it with anxious fingers. “See ya around, I guess?”

Wayne says not be a stranger, and Eddie gives him a quick nod. “See ya.”

Steve grinds his teeth about it for the rest of the afternoon, then decides, like, screw this. It's a Friday night; he's not sitting around sulking all evening because Eddie Munson hurt his feelings.

He calls up a girl — some pretty blonde chick he remembers from the cheer squad — and sets up a date for later that night. Takes her to the drive-in, buys her a vanilla shake. The date's fine; it's good; it's fine. She's pretty enough, and she offers to suck him off when the main feature starts.

It’s not a good blowjob. Arguably one of the worst ones Steve’s had, and he’s had quite a few. She keeps gagging herself with these gross squelching sounds, barely getting even half of his dick in her tiny mouth and not bothering to use her hands to make up the difference. Just leaves them resting on Steve’s thighs while she makes fake whimpering moans like she’s sooo turned on by this; fucking as if; and somewhere in the middle of her repetitive, sloppy bobbing his mind starts to wander off. To the trailer, to the lot fees, the fucking pharmacy bills. Their ever-dwindling savings and what percentage of them he just wasted on this lackluster movie night; surely they’re gonna run out any day now; tick tock, tick tock.

"Um," the girl squeaks as she pulls off with a gross slurp. Steve looks down at his lap, sees he's gone soft. "Am I, like, doing something wrong, or...?"

Her voice is high and quiet, innocent and sweet, and Steve feels like an asshole. He squeezes himself at the base, gives a few quick strokes to get himself up again. "No, you're perfect, honey," he lies. "Stick out your tongue for me?"

She bats her eyes demurely and rolls over onto her side, gives him some kind of sexy pout before opening her mouth so he can jerk off over her. Steve works his wrist; tries not to be rude and look away, but her colors are all wrong. Strawberry hair. Blue irises. He squeezes his eyes shut, moves his hand faster and thinks of dark brown. Dark hair, dark lashes, dark eyes like the deep woods. Endless. Sort of mesmerizing. Nancy? "Oh, fuck," he gasps as he comes.

The girl squeals and jerks away from him, hands flying to her face. "Oh, my god! Oh, my god! You got it in my nose!"

"Sorry,” Steve grunts, shuddering through an aftershock. There’s cum on his hand, on his pants; all over this poor girl’s face. He thinks he got some in her eyelashes. "Shit, sorry, let me, uh—"

He leans over and rifles through the glove box, trying to find a napkin for her. No dice. Best he can do is an old McDonald's wrapper with a grease stain on the side. "Here, does— does this work?"

“Ew!”

“Sorry, I mean it’s that or my shirt, but then I’d have to drive you home shirtless, so-”

“Ugh,” she gives him a bitchy look. Tries to, anyway. One eye is glued shut. “Just give me that, please.”

His limp, spitty cock is still hanging from his pants when he passes her the wrapper. Flaccid and sad, like a white flag of surrender, and a bubble of hysterical laughter slips out. A choked burst of it, a pufferfished pfffft as it explodes past his lips. He’s not sure if it's the orgasm or the ridiculousness of the situation or if he's just plain lost his mind, but the girl glares at him, which...

There's still a glob of jizz on her cheek, so it doesn’t help matters much.

"I think you should take me home."

"Y-yep. Sorry. Yeah."

“Like now.”

Steve tucks himself into his jeans.

—

part 12

tagging whoever commented yesterday if your settings will let me @slutforcoffein @annabanannabeth @rani-mayida @awolfstudio @noodle-shenaniganery @yourmom-isgay @zombiecreatures @anne-bennett-cosplayer @thestarslittleking @evillittleguy @acedorerryn @messrs-weasley @bronwenmarie @lololol-1234 @estrellami-1 @jaytriesstuff @space-invading-pigeon @violetsteve @ahsokatanoss @slowandsteddie @zoeweee @silver-snaffles @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @thealwithnoname @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @hellion-child @stevesbipanic @trensu @steves-strapcollection @hotluncheddie

[slasherx]

Gurl you write so fast like a Machine 😂, I wish I could write like that, and also good luck with your finals!

Can I do a request for A Micheal Myers with a childhood crush (female) like as a kid Michael had a crush on the reader but like after he killed they were separated for years but them micheal broke out and came across the reader all grown up if you can!

Also can you do Rz Michael, he's my favorite

Lol thats cause I have the motivation to write about slashers rn. And thank you! I got a 94% on one of them, but I won't get my final grade on the other one for a bit. I hope I pass.

Content: Michael Myers x fem!Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, obsessive love

Notes: Even though the gif is peepaw Myers, this takes place in the RZ universe

• ───────────────── •

Michael was put away in the asylum when he was ten. Before he made a vow to never speak again, he kept asking his mother and Dr. Loomis where you were, and if you could come visit him. His mother promised to talk to your parents about it, but that she couldn't guarantee you could come see him.

And so she did. She tried talking to your parents, but your parents wanted you nowhere near that monster of a child. They outright refused her on numerous occasions, even when Michael's mother pleaded with them on her knees at their front door.

When she broke the news to Michael that you wouldn't be seeing him, Michael lost it. He could feel something in his head snap, the same way it snapped when bullies would hurt you or him. Or the same way he felt himself snap that Halloween night.

He managed to keep it cool until Dr. Loomis and his mother left, but when they sent in that nurse to watch him until they could escort him to his room, he couldn't hold it in any longer. He took his plastic fork and jammed it into her throat, cutting her scream short. He was angry. Why wouldn't you come see him? Why? Why, why, why? He didn't understand...he thought you were best friends.

• ───────────────── •

Eight years after that day, he had a visitor that wasn't Dr. Loomis. He had known his mother killed herself, his sister was dead, and Boo was probably far away in the foster care system, so he had hoped it was you.

When they sat him in the room, he had felt anxious for the first time in years. Had you changed like he had? Did you grow out your hair like him? Grown taller like him? He kept a mask on, one he made in rememberance of you. It was just your favorite color all over it.

Finally, you walked in and sat down across from Michael. A couple guards stood at the door, in case Michael tried to leap at you regardless of his cuffs chaining him to the table. He was breathing heavily - you had changed.

You had grown taller, but you remained shorter than him. Now at eighteen, you seemed very mature for your age, and Michael wanted to leap across the table at you, but not to kill you.

"Hi Michael. My parents don't know I'm here. I just...came to provide an explanation, since I feel you deserve one." You spoke, hands in your lap. "Your mother begged my parents to let me see you on many occasions, and each time they told her no. I remember one time she cried and got on her knees to beg my mother, but she just shut the door in her face."

Michael listened, quiet as ever. He was just happy to see you in front of him again. He was also surprised that Dr. Loomis wasn't here to supervise this meeting.

"And I want you to know that Dr. Loomis has contacted me since I turned eighteen, and we've spoken about you a couple of times. He told me you don't speak anymore, and that you killed a nurse while being in here." You decided it was now or never to try and break his vow of silence. "Is...is that true, Michael?"

Michael wanted to break his silence, but he knew Loomis would be on his ass if he did. So all he did was nod his head yes.

You seemed to shift uncomfortably. Your breathing increased, and he could tell you were scared. This saddened him - he didn't want you to be scared of him, he wanted you to love him. You two were attached to each other as children, why would a few murders make this any different?

"I...think I better go before my parents realize I'm not at my friends house." You started to get up, when Michael launched at you and grabbed your wrist, straining the cuffs on him.

He held you hard, and you could see the desperation in his eyes. He was all alone here. But he still killed those people, and if you weren't careful, you'd be next. The guards moved forward and forced Michael back, and a few more people rushed into the room. One rushed to you and put his hands on your shoulders.

"Ma'am, ma'am, are you alright?" The man asked.

You nodded. "Yeah, thank you." It was too fast for you to process it, but Michael was staring at you. "Please, take me out of here."

• ───────────────── •

Now outside, you saw Dr. Loomis by your car. He was pacing, clearly nervous about your meeting with Michael. Then when he saw you approach, he waved to you.

"How did it go?"

"Please don't talk to me. I shouldn't have come here." You responded shakily.

"What happened in there? Did he break his silence?"

"No, but he fucking grabbed me! Who knows what else he would have done if the guards hadn't been there?! I was crazy to even come here." You opened your car door and got inside.

"Please, wait, (Y/n). You don't know how much you mean to Michael, I-"

"Save it, Dr. Loomis. I'm going home. Stop calling me." You started up your car and peeled out of the parking lot. Memories of you and Michael as kids began to race through your head and you began to cry. How did it come to this...?

• ───────────────── •

Seven more years went by. Seven more years where Michael didn't see you. Seven more angry years. But now, it was different. Michael was standing in front of your house.

He was different now. He was more built, even taller, and his hair was even longer. You used to comment on his long hair as a kid, it was one of the reasons he kept it so long in the first place.

He could see you through the window. You lived alone now, just down the street from your childhood home. He was content watching you through the window. You were preparing dinner, when you suddenly got a call. He decided now was the time to enter your home.

Moving around to the back door, he began to pick the lock.

"Hello?" You picked up your phone.

With a click, he was in.

"(Y/n)! You need to listen to me-" Dr. Loomis practically shouted on the other line.

Michael slowly opened the door.

"Save it, Dr. Loomis. I told you to stop calling me." You were about to hang up.

Michael made his way to your living room, right next to your kitchen.

"He's escaped! Michael has escaped!"

"What?" You spoke, shock and fear tearing through your system. You put a hand over your mouth, and looked up through your window, but you saw a figure behind you.

"You're not safe! Flee Haddonfield!" Dr. Loomis begged.

You spun around to see a large man with a knife glistening in his hand. He had a white mask on, blonde hair poking out underneath it. You didn't need him to take off the mask to see who it was. Your fear skyrocketed as you thought he was going to kill you.

"Michael...?" You spoke, slowly lowering the phone and ignoring Dr. Loomis' pleas.

Michael moved towards you. He finally had you now, and he would never let you go again. He was yours, and you will be his.

• ───────────────── •

Here's my masterlist, in case you like what you see and want to request more!

[solestixx]

1- lukas matsson x reader

word count ≈ 6600

warning: smut and mid writing

____

“Ken- you know this isn’t my scene.” Your voice goes quiet, simply just peering at your brother, anxious for his reaction.

He’s been a bit of a pain in the ass lately, the whole family was a pain in your ass lately, but perhaps it was always this way. The Roy family created chaos and unnecessary drama, that was a given. It was something you tried to detach yourself from; the business, the craze, the constant chatter– it all drained you. From the moment you were born, it was as if your family was screaming from all sides whether it be Roman and Shiv fighting over shit all, or your dad blowing up in your faces.

You always knew that you didn’t fit into the puzzle. You were born a little bit too late, grew up with faint glances of your older siblings, and dismissed like the baby you were. Maybe that was the reason you never considered joining Waystar, or perhaps why a place was never offered. 

Your dad was your dad, perpetually disappointed in you – while at the same time maintaining that you were his favourite. You all knew it was Shiv, but the very fact he insisted that it was you made you villain number one to your siblings. 

So there you were, their little sister who was a fucking writer, twiddling with your ungroomed thumbs, waiting for your family to forget who you were. That being said, it was a surprise when you opened your email to find a very flashy invite to Kendall’s 40th. You didn’t think that your brother would want what he perceived as his Debbie Downer boring little sister at his grandiose douche fest.

“Come the fuck on, it’s my party, Bambi, cheer up, enjoy yourself for once,” Kendall says. “Come on, I’ll take you somewhere special.” As he’s about to leave, you stop him, placing a hand on his arm.

“Wait, Ken. I have a gift for you.” You hand him an envelope, “I didn’t want it getting lost in the mix.”  

Kendall stops with his buzzing, which is probably coke-induced and takes the envelope from your hands. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you sigh as you watch your brother tuck the envelope into his coat. 

He quickly puts a hand on your shoulder before he starts to navigate you around, waving and fistbumping his friends walking by. As quickly as you had gained Kendall’s attention, it faded away from you, as he yelled over at his assistant who seemed new, but you weren’t around enough to know. “Yo! Comfrey, ship up my little sis to the treehouse.”

His assistant – Comfrey, who you knew had definitely been speed walking away from her boss before he hollered out at her – whipped her head towards the both of you. You were the odd couple, Kendall’s glazed over eyes and dopey smile mixed with your grimacing under his touch. “Coming!”

Kendall gives you a pat on the head– a move he often did in childhood, his eyes dead as always as he gives you a good-enough smirk,  “You should avoid the other sibs, they’re strictly business right now – serious work only.”

You smile at his unconscious insinuation. You weren't a serious person to them. You weren’t anything you guessed, “Have fun, okay Ken? And try not to be a complete dick tonight,” you ask before Comfrey pulls me away and Kendall saunters off. 

You watch your brother from the corner of your eyes, and quickly try to keep up with the bouncing ponytail of his young assistant. The hollowness in your chest that used to exist – that there would be ten years ago –  had disappeared now, you were completely okay with the empty promises and empty phrases. 

It’s what you grew up on. Raised in the top two floors of the highest buildings in New York, the Scottish highlands with your father’s forgotten castles, or in sprawling ranches in the middle of nowhere for tax purposes. At least that was the childhood you had with the Logan Roy experience.

After Uncle Ewan’s wife passed away, when you went to her funeral with your whole family, Dad decided that he’d leave his youngest with his brother to build your character. Your siblings were already almost in college and you were, well, the youngest and still complaining about multiplication and school field trips. So, from then on, you distanced yourself. Not entirely by your own volition, but every decision after was. And you prayed that every decision following would be as well.

As you try to keep pace with the taller woman, “So Comfrey, how’d you become Kendall’s assistant?” 

The woman turns around for a second to get a glance at the youngest Roy, she presses her lips together before curtly responding, “I’m his PR rep.”

All you do is hum in understanding, she was a PR rep that was running around like a low-level worker bee trying to satiate her older brother. It was like all people in their lives. 

You pass by the flashing lights, tall glass windows, and strange art installations, not so much admiring them, more like begging to just dissolve into the floor. To melt like the witch in the Wizard of Oz would be your opus, your ooey-gooey pile of person simply having a hard time leaching onto the rich person floors.

When you spot the all-too-familiar treehouse you wince. It seemed that Kendall’s childhood trauma manifested in an exuberant part of his fortieth birthday party. “This is Kendall’s little sister, she’s cool.” Comfrey motions the guards behind her, as you stand awkwardly – it looked like they needed visible confirmation you were you? It took them a second for their heads to look at your orientation. 

While they make way for you, opening up the roped fence, you thank Comfrey, then watch her scatter away, and hurry away probably to clean up Kendall’s inevitable fuck-ups. 

She was nice enough, you guessed; could be worse. 

You wandered through the treehouse with no purpose, staring at the tree trunk columns that looked borderline tacky and its leaf-casted shadows on the walls. You weren’t alone in the room, no there was a boatload of Kendall’s rager hedge fund friends, or celebrities whose faces you remember enough to dart away from – but still, you were alone. You felt eyes on you, people knew that you were a Roy, but eyes don’t give you company. 

The space was large enough to walk around for a few minutes, but eventually, you assumed you just looked out-of-place. Pacing around like a failed dracula, circling his already knowing victims. So you resigned yourself to a couch near a wall, praying that nobody approaches you. At least you wouldn’t be sneak-attacked from the back. That was your worst fucking nightmare – a hand on your back and a networking LinkedIn smiley techie. 

Leaning into the couch’s thin leather you try to get comfortable. The lights were bright enough you hoped, to not ‘ruin the vibe’ with your phone’s obnoxiously bright screen. Staring at your home screen, you forget any work that you had to do – literally nothing of importance that would make you look like you were doing something. Yes, you were writing a screenplay right now, which would be a good thing to work on if you could concentrate in the noisy fucking room. So you just went on Candy Crush, your finger languidly swiping your high school iPhone wanting to shoot yourself. 

You spent an adequate amount of time doing that, getting cozy enough to tuck your feet under your body and let your hair out from the bun it was in. It felt okay, you still wanted to go home, but you were waiting until at least ten percent of the crowd was gone so Kendall wouldn’t get prissy. 

But you couldn’t keep the peace, of course, you couldn’t. Because there Kendall comes into the room, not looking for you, but for a man sitting on one of the benches in the middle of the party.

“There he is!” You internally shrink, like a deflated balloon as your brother approaches. You hide like you were habitually doing as a child, trying to dart off from where you were oh-so comfortable. You hear Kendall saying some other bullshit which you tune out in your panic, but as you’re set to leave he calls out your name. 

“Bambs!” He turns to the man next to him, “This is my sister– she isn’t a vulture like the other ones, don't worry about that.” He looks back at you, then at the man again, “She’ll take care of you, they avoid her like a fucking plague.”

“Really nice, Ken,” you say, walking towards them reluctantly, resigning to sit next to the blonde man. He was tired-looking with hardly-noticeable but still visible rings underneath his eyes, a small smirk of interest on his face as he doesn’t shuffle to give you space, instead moving closer to you.

Kendall leaves, for a reason you are unsure of. You try to stare in his retreating direction as you feel the stranger’s hot eyes on you. You couldn’t read this guy, he seemed like a regular dude at first glance and to your relief he didn’t seem crazed in the eyes or serial-rapey.

“You’re the youngest one, aren’t you? The recluse?” he asks, his accent isn’t American, it was something Nordic – you hadn’t met many of them in your life. 

You turn towards him, to be polite of course, although your body tries to twist awkwardly, making sure he isn’t too close, “Good use of deduction.” He’s attractive, vaguely familiar like everyone in the room, obviously important to your brother, but you still have no fucking clue who he is. “And you’re? One of my brother’s friends?”

He smirks, laying back on a column behind him, “Yeah, we’re best buddies, like peas and a pod.” 

“No name?” He laughs, like he was in disbelief that you didn’t know who he was, “I like this, I’ll be your mystery man, hmm?” He leans further towards you, raising his eyebrows – the lack of space making your face hot. 

You try to escape any feelings of chagrin, crossing your legs, and staring into his eyes which felt like it was more of his soul. Who was this fucking dude? “A mystery man in my childhood treehouse, you’re sounding like a pedophile to me…”

He nods as though he agrees, laughing, “You have a history in this, I assume, with your family.” Oh yes, Uncle Mo. “What do you do? The tabloids say… writer?” 

A part of you feels insecure in your lack of knowledge about him. He knows your occupation, your name, and would probably be able to trace your life back to childhood through the internet, while you sat here like prey for his predator. All in his casual clothing and wolfish smile. 

“Yes, some screenwriting, some things more authorial, enough to get by.” 

It seemed like the idea of ‘getting by’ was amusing to him as he smiled when you said that. Almost as if he was in disbelief that a Roy would ever need to make enough to get by. Maybe he was older money, maybe he grew up in a big castle like you, a prince or something… your mother had always had people like that over when you were young. It was funny, the old aristocrats with their wine and screaming kids. No he wasn’t old money... his whole being read new. New money. New power.

“You dress like you write children’s books, like a sexy-librarian-kindergarten teacher – it’s hot, if I dare-say,” he says. You can feel him looking her up and down and she doesn’t know if you hate it or like it. You may be leaning to the latter with how lonely you’d been feeling for so long. 

You almost roll your eyes, although your face heats up. How long has it been since someone somewhat complimented you? Sure they called your writing good, praised you in those magazines– no journals they called them, but nobody ever looked at you. Even if it was a half-insult. 

You did dress conservatively, at least to control the narrative of yourself. Stemming mostly from when the paps took pictures up your skirt as a teenager. They weren’t even decent enough to wait until you were eighteen, the moment the vultures saw that you wore a short-enough skirt they chased you around trying to get a glimpse of the most elusive Roy sibling; the paps were constantly chasing a story, and for the duration of your childhood you were the most interesting part of the billion-piece puzzle belonging to the Roy family.

Without any response, he moves even closer, if that’s humanly possible – your arms pressing up against each other. He was warm, warmer than the stuffy room around the two of you, “Trying to insinuate something, mystery man?”

“Ja, maybe I am,” he says, before leaning close to your face. “Let’s go somewhere more private.” He offers you a hand to get up, which your body wills you to take, but your brain knows logically any man your brother wants to woo is a douche, yet you’d always think with your feelings. He pulls you through the treehouse, walking into more of a secluded room. 

You feel people watching you, more than before, more than they would the youngest Roy, but his hand feels so warm in yours, and he was even more attractive standing up. Taller than your smaller stature – you were the shortest of your siblings along with the youngest, the baby. It felt nice walking next to him, it felt safe. But still, it felt almost dangerous.

You breathe out a thank god as the two of you get off of the wooden bench and your butt touches a soft surface again. It’s more secluded than your spot before but like every corner of the party, there were still people around you. 

“Not a fan of crowds?” he asks, getting comfortable on the couch and leaning back as you feel his hand rise slowly on your thigh. Like he’s apprehensively confident.

“Is anyone really?” you ask him, he nods slowly, his eyes asking me to go on, “I don’t know why I’m here, maybe just feeling shitty about my family situation, you know? I don't spend much time with them… ever.” You eye the man as he intensely looks back at you – eyefucking you believe it’s called. Oh and his eyes are blue, you’d never noticed that before — remarkably they’re not empty, the soul was still there, at least right now. You have to admit that he’s hot, in this light even more so. His features affirm my suspicions of where he’s from– and as you stare at him even longer you can't quite remember when you’d ever seen a hotter man. “Do you still have no name?”

He grins, looking away, “You’ll know soon enough, won’t you? This is fun for now.” 

“The only name I know you by is pedophile, and I don’t think you want people overhearing. Seems like we have eavesdroppers,” you glance over at the small groups of people around you. You assume that they’re small investors, that they probably know Kendall and whatever business he has with the mystery man. 

“You’re right, my facial expressions plus my conversation are very relevant to the stock market and usually equals tanking.”

“You talking to me will probably tank it, whatever stock you’re talking about—“ you stop yourself from continuing, would Dad be mad that you were talking to him? “You’re not part of Kendall’s crusade, right? Like my father won’t try and assassinate me for speaking to you?”

It’s almost like he enjoys that notion as he laughs to himself, “Don’t worry about Kendall, your dad hiring a guy maybe, but right now I’m to be courted.” He gestures with his hands – which to you are strangely very animated, “You care about what your dad says, do you?”

You respond nonchalantly, though your hands squirm and you look to the ground, “It’s a constant fuck him, and at the same time I love you, Daddy, I guess. He was shit, is shit, but sometimes he’s not too bad.”

“You call him daddy?”

For the second time today, you feel yourself crawl into your skin, “Oh yeah, when we’re in bed together definitely.”

Mystery man almost giggles at your comment, and there’s something affable about that. He was constantly switching from this serious man to a very unserious one. There was some strange part of this that you liked, you liked the attention the way that he looked at you, the bubble he created around the two of you, the way his hand was increasingly inching. 

You think back to the way this night started. You were quite desperate to leave, a bit dampened by the way Kendall accepted your gift, and guilty that you weren't at home taking care of your cat and working. Then you were delivered by this tall Viking man and you were uncomfortably comfortable with the way he made you feel. 

“I kind of want to get drunk.”

“I have no qualms with that,” he responds, a grin on his face as you both get up and inch towards the bar, his hand slipping onto your back easily. 

The time at the bar was spent in easy conversation, you stand against the wall, with him looming in front of you as you drink together. Him a beer and you a drink with a name you’re unsure of – hating yourself for so much enjoying the tang of the liquified poison. 

“Why aren’t you part of your family’s business?”

The way he looks at you… you feel like there’s genuine interest, you look into his eyes and there’s a gleam that scares me. Was he playing with you? Was this a play for your family? You still have no clue who this man is. You let him get too close to yourself, hand on your waist – eyes on yours, too close for a stranger. But you just want to be happy,  to feel like you exist again. Not a fly on the wall, the main course. 

“You know,” you shrug your shoulders, taking another sip as he just looks at you with a weird facial thing that you don’t quite understand. Like he’s teasing you, but ever so slightly, begging you to spill – which you do. “I’m the baby, y’know – Bambi or whatever.”

He tilts his head back as he absorbs, “Bambi… I like that, you look like a Bambi – the deer right?”

“Yes the deer, they–” I hurriedly take another sip of my drink as I recount the story of my ubiquitous nickname, “Once Dad went hunting and brought me along, we spotted a deer and instead of uh– killing it I kind of ran towards it, while his gun was still aimed. He said that he was about to shoot me like I was a Bambi, he said I was so fast that he almost pulled the trigger while watching me through the scope.”

Mystery man looks at me with wide eyes, “Jesus fuck, that’s a shit thing to say. How old were you?”

“Uh maybe ten, by then my siblings were gone and he visited me where I lived with Uncle Ewan in Canada.”

“What a fucking prick.”

“Yeah.”

You stare at each other for a minute, him in front of you and you below him, you really like his eyes. You break it though, your head was starting to spin from the one drink and he was making it almost worse. “Come on, let’s go sit down, I’m gonna get stumbly.”

Pushing yourself away from the wall, you walk towards an empty space with a few chairs around a table and plop yourself down. Curling into yourself, you can just feel him situating himself next to you.

“You’re a lightweight, aren’t you? You look like one too,” he says, taking a swig of his still-almost-full beer.

You glare up at him as you start dozing off, “I’m gonna nap, you do you, pedophile.”

He guffaws, “Okay, no more pedophile jokes, the press hears and I’m done.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you mutter before tucking your head into your own shoulder. 

“I have to ask you something before you nod off.” He seems almost genuine in his words as he furrows his eyebrows and leans towards your chair. You lift yourself ever so slightly showing that you’re listening. “We’ll fuck later right? Like guaranteed?”

You close your eyes again before you can roll them, although a tiny smile slips onto your face – you hope he won’t see it as you bury your face into the back of the lounge chair. 

“I saw that grin, I’m going to take that as a yes.”

“Fuck off, asshole.”

“Don’t contradict yourself now.”

You shake your head in mock embarrassment as you go to sleep. Your head was throbbing a bit, and your heart was beating faster – but you realize that you’d forgotten the loud music, and the crowds of people around. You’d forgotten. You’d found solace after so many years looking for it, in the middle of a mock replica of your childhood treehouse.

And this sleep was peaceful for a while, but then a fucking earthquake rumbled you awake. 

“What the fuck,” you grunted as you felt hands on your shoulders, your eyes bulge open and you see Roman above you. “Rome, leave me alone, you bitch.”

“Were you trying to seduce Matsson for dad?” 

You just roll your eyes, not understanding in your incoherent state what the fuck your brother was talking about – per usual. Looking around you saw that mystery man was gone, and the party was still raging around you. And his name was Matsson? Strange name, but a little bit fitting. 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about… why’d you even wake me up, miss me that bad?” you asked, clearly trying to antagonize him with your whiny voice.

Roman with all his pessimism and ass-holery deadpans at you, “Well I’m fuckin’ sorry, you totally missed the six foot tall Viking who was camped out beside your unconscious body?”

“Is that not the point of being unconscious, dumbass?” 

“Did you fuck him, Bambi? Were you so fucking tired after fucking him that you had to take a big girl nap?”

“There’s something psychologically wrong with you.”

Roman sits squatting on the top of the chair as he pseudo-interrogates you, “Y’know he didn’t let me fucking wake you up, was that a power play or did you let him do you?”

“Rome, I have no idea who that man was, he just said he was your friend and Ken told me to keep an eye on him.” Half-lying was your thing, you guessed. Your life was full of half-lies, momentary omissions of details, ignoring parts of sentences so you seemed more innocent. That was the life of a youngest child out of five you guessed.

“And since when were you Kendall’s bitch?” “Since he invited me to something, unlike you.” 

Roman completely skipped your comment before going off again, “Did he tell you anything, Matsson?”

“Oh yeah, he told me he fucking hates your guts,” you say with a smile, watching your brother getting riled up.

“I’m going to tell Dad that you fucked him if you don’t tell me the truth,” he threatens, it was fun being in this position. You’d so regularly in your childhood been put down by your older siblings, so it was interesting being the one to give it back to them. You finally understood the appeal. Ah, leverage. 

You smile as you pretend to recount, a finger to your chin as you mockingly itch it, “Oh he told me that Dad’s an asshole and he has no interest in business with any of you creeps.”

“You’ve seriously been spending too much time with Uncle Looney? You know that right? You sound delusional, completely and utterly gone.”

As you sit up straighter trying to compose yourself, you eye Shiv coming over to where you and Roman sit (although he’s very much standing, pacing, like a lunatic), her hair a mess and her makeup smudged all over. She’d either just had mind blowing sex or something was seriously wrong with her. 

You and your sister were strained to say the least. You wanted the idealized big sister who would braid your hair and make you up. The sister who would talk about boys with you and argue with you over stealing her clothes. You guessed Shiv more so wanted to prove herself to Dad – she’d always been his favourite. You were more of an afterthought to her. The kind of afterthought that made you do a double take when you remember that you’d buried it so long ago. 

There wasn’t any sentimentality in the title of sister with the two of you. You were just another sibling, and probably her third favourite before Connor. But still, you love her, and you know in the deep recesses of her heart she loves you too. All the siblings love each other, although a strong belief for you was that there were certain dynamics that you were excluded from because of your age and difference in childhood. 

“You do you, Roman. Just know that I’m hoping for your business with him to fail, just handing you my two cents.” Business was a strange concept to you, you were always pushed away from it as a child, leading you to know less than nothing about it. At one point you felt like you would go into it, but that too was ripped away from you. So right now, you just wanted to make Roman feel bad. Sure it was wrong to want to churn your brother into pieces, but it felt so good.

“I know you’re a fucking liar, so just like, sit with that, okay?” 

“Whatever, Roman.”

Roman ignores your words calling out for Shiv. Shiv runs a finger through straight but frizzy hair before coming to give you a half-hug.

The hug was weird and a little bit detached, but it was something, and it made you feel not instantly uncomfortable, but almost happy. Happy to see your sister again a little bit. “Bambi, it’s been like two fucking years.” 

It hadn’t been, but you agree. It felt like it.

“I didn’t know you were keeping track–” you try to say, but Roman quickly cuts you off. Biting off that Shiv was out dancing. Dancing was a human thing. You didn’t know your only sister was a human. 

“Guys, I’m gonna go now, I’ll probably not be in touch, so yeah,” you try and gracefully leave as your siblings bicker about finessing or some shit. 

They both nod non-committedly as you trot off observing Kendall and Connnor at the opposite poles of the room. You choose to not go off towards Kendall, who you knew probably already ruined his night with his overthinking or underthinking. Instead you go to Connor, probably your only kind brother, albeit the fact sometimes he was fucking lawful psychotic.

“Con, Con,” you call out, your small purse at your side as you push it around your body – you’d refused to give it to security earlier, citing personal reasons which they were too scared to deny. They probably assumed it was your period or something like that – you’d made that insinuation when they didn’t relent for your last name.

You see Connor’s coated body turn around as he returns your call, “Bambi! My favourite sister – you remember Willa?” Connor gestures to his arm candy, who didn’t seem too excited to meet you – or meet you again, but obviously faked it. She was very pretty, nearly to the point where she made you feel insecure. But then again, no hate for your brother, but she was with your brother. You were sure Connor had mentioned her in a phone call, but you two never really talked about those kinds of things. He was always ranting on about politics (you think you’re the only one who would listen, so he took advantage of that) or you would talk about your life – never about the company, or really how he was doing besides his ranch. 

“Yes, at Shiv’s wedding, I believe?” She just nods, and you’re both just pretending to know when you last met. There was no recognition in her eyes, and you don’t think you’d ever interacted with her. It was a nice connection you’d had, a shared lie always brings people together.

“Ken, told me you were here, but I thought you’d be gone by now.” Connor pulls you into a hug before saying, “Have you been taking care of yourself, sis?”

“I’ve been doing okay, normally as always.” Noticing his cast, she asks, “What’s up with your arm, Con’?”

“Oh, I was doing an Irish jig as one does, and boom I slipped and it bent in all different directions,” he describes in a strangely vivid way. “I’m feeling better though, Willa helped me recover, right sweetheart?”

“Yep,” she nodded, a smile on her face as she bore her eyes into mine – uncomfortable? Very.

Connor was probably the only one of your siblings you regularly spoke to, yes it was by phone, and no you didn’t always enjoy it, but there was a beautiful normalcy to speaking on the phone with your brother. With Kendall or Roman it always turned into business– about Dad. With Shiv it was her ranting about some political thing, well maybe that was before she turned so Waystar-loco. 

Connor was your normal brother.

“Have you heard of my recent presidential proclivities?” he asks, tilting his head as he looks at Willa for support – in which she enthusiastically nods her head.

Maybe he wasn’t exactly the most normal of brothers, but he was more normal than the brother who spoke about you having sex weirdly too much or the one who can’t stop fucking over your dad and snorting cocaine. 

You nod, but before you hear a tumble and watch Roman bending over a kneeling Kendall. What a fucking dick. Kendall’s girlfriend, who you also didn’t recognize was helping him up, and you stood there with no intention to help or rush in, frozen to your spot.

Connor shouts out, “Everyone take it easy, okay?” as Roman maniacally laughs and Kendall helps himself up. 

As Kendall walks past you, Connor, and Willa he grumbles, “Take your fucking coat off,” repeating it to Connor as he walks like a man scorned. Willa blocks Connor from Kendall trying to calm the younger brother down. You avert Kendall’s gaze, standing next to Willa blocking Connor who looks to the ground much like you.

Shiv seemingly walks away from the scene as well, but in the opposite direction from Kendall, and immediately after Willa and Connor walk arm in arm out, saying a quiet goodbye to you.

With one glance to Roman, who’s still muttering curses under his breath on the sofa chairs, you leave. You’d quickly sobered up, and it was time to face the darkness of New York. Walking out of the luxurious Manhattan skyscraper you peer at the artificially brightened roads and the strange silence of the backroads. Instead of taking an Uber or Taxi, you opt for the Subway. You didn’t take an allowance from your Dad like Connor did, you never inherited anything ever, and your last poetry anthology wasn’t lucrative enough to have casual taxi money. You were sure nothing would happen on the Subway, from experience you know that there would just be a few people throwing up and tired workers coming home from the night shift.

Before walking down into the station, you check your phone, one hand on the railing and the other carefully gripping onto your phone. Attention split both ways.

Unknown

Know who I am yet?

1 Missed Call from Unknown

Your heart skips a beat, an adrenaline rich positive-ending to the night beat skip.

Instead of heading inside, you turn around, sitting down on the top step of the stairs, hoping a coked up crypto-bro doesn’t push you down. 

Pressing the call, a part of you hopes he doesn’t pick up, so you can return to normalcy, but the heart wants what the heart wants.

“Bambi?”

You groan, “I thought the story would stop you from calling me that.”

“Not because of the story, it suits you–” he pauses, the line going crackly as you hear him talk to someone, “You’ve left the party?”

“Yeah, walking home now.” “Walking? This is America, ja? You’re on a death mission.”

“It’s not too late, you know serial killers only come out after two in the morning.”

“I can send a car, hmm? You can come over here.”

“What does ‘over here’ mean? To a stranger’s home?”

“You promised me something, didn’t you?”

“Hmmmm, a promise? I don’t remember.”

“Send me your location, I’ll get my guy to get you.”

“Okay, I’ll send my location to a stranger just because he was nice to me at my brother’s party.”

“See you soon then.”

____

The drive was awkward to Matsson’s (you preferred mystery man to what seemingly sounded like a last name, although it might be a first, Europeans were in themselves a mystery as well). The driver was quiet, and the car was a rich person’s. It was a car you were all too familiar with, the car you drove in during your childhood, the same tinted windows and leather seats.

Same thing of riding up to the penthouse of a hotel – he was only here temporarily you surmised. You’d probably be a one-time thing. 

When the elevator doors beep open and you’re in a hallway with one door, anxiety fills you up. What if this was a trap? If he was some sort of sexual pervert, or even worse an axe murderer with an even worse temper than anyone you could find on the New York streets?

But before you can even knock the door swings open and a hand pulls you in, “Fucking asshole,” you whisper as you feel his lips trace over yours, your breath in his. 

He’s rough, and rushed, like he’s a man starved – of you. 

As he starts tracing his fingers underneath your shirt you push his back, two hands on his chest as he kneels his head to meet yours. “What’s wrong?” “I don’t know your name,” you say, almost embarrassed that you hadn’t found it on your own, “Matsson? That’s your name.”

He doesn’t respond, just pulls you close to him, before picking you up into his arms. You restrain a squeal as you struggle in his arms. He navigates through the hallways, looking as though he was confused on the layout of his own homebase, he finds the bed – splaying you down and standing above you like an animal.

“You know, I refuse to orgasm without your name,” you insist. He moves closer and closer, uncharacteristically quiet as he pulls your shirt up laying a hand on your stomach, the other tracing over your soaked panties, slowly creeping towards your sensitive skin. 

He’s strangely gentle with it, until he pulls your panties to the side, spreading open your legs as he buries his face into your pussy. You move your two legs onto his shoulders, as plays with your nipples – languid twisting and faint touches that leave you just wanting more.

You let out a yelp as you feel his tongue move into you, like a fucking shark he dives into your clit as he watches you for your reaction. You know you look like a mess, breathless and desperate. “Please, please–” you moan, desperate for his tongue, for his touch, his everything. 

“Your pussy’s so good, baby– fucking heaven,” he whispers into where his head lay between your thighs. As he blows gently on it, you are wholly exposed and cold, you start squirming. Your thighs start pressing around his head, trying to push him further, which seemed to turn him on even more. Your legs start to shake as your orgasm builds up and builds up, you feel like screaming from the bliss of it, his attack on your pussy is like God reigning down on earth. “Refuse to orgasm, hmm? Want me to stop?”

You shake your head as he continues, “Please, keep going, keep going—” He listens to you, beginning to rub your clit as the feeling of everything continues to crash down on you

“Come baby, come.” He keeps on licking you up, every fucking crevasse. 

Your orgasm came hard and quick, with a groan and a twitch your eyes rolled over as you released his head from in between your thighs, and as quickly as he got there, he climbed on top of you – his larger body engulfing yours as he hurriedly kisses you. 

“I want to inside me,” you say into his ear, you could feel him from underneath his pants as he grabs your ass, groaning into you as you palm him. 

“Take off your fucking clothes,” he orders, as you do it, you take off the loose t-shirt you’d been wearing to Kendall’s party off slowly, you can feel him staring at your tits, and a part of you loves it. Loves the attention you get from him. As you take off your pants from where they are bunched up from your ankles, and then the greenish-blue granny panties you wear, you watch him take his suede pants and then his boxers off. Oh god, you feel yourself thinking as you stare at him. 

He picks you up as he brings his length into your entrance, rubbing it on your clit. He keeps going, relentless before he surprises you and slips it in, tilting your head towards him so he could watch you as he fucked you. 

You hear him groan as he starts with slow thrusts, he would push in and then wait five seconds before slowly sliding out— making sure you felt every inch of him. He was too big and you felt so full, with every time he pulled out you felt like five years were taken from your life span, that time had slowed down too much. You fucking needed him.

Of course he starts going fast, rough. There were no thoughts in your mind as you arched against him, and moaned in his mouth as he kissed you. Deeply and raw, like he had everything to lose and you would disappear in a heartbeat.

Pinning your hands above your head, he continues with his pace, passionately and without bore– “You’re so good for me, I just want to be inside you all the time,” he says a grin on his face as he watches your face before glancing down looking at his dick pound into you. 

He presses kisses to your throat as he whispers, “My name’s Lukas, Lukas Matsson–” strangely enough hearing his name sends you off the edge as you moan out unintelligibly, overstimulated as he keeps on going, getting more and more erratic. 

Not long after, he pumps into you a few more times before completely spilling inside of you, collapsing on top of you, not leaving your warmth as he buries himself deeper.

You don’t say anything afterwards, you let him lay on top of you as he stays inside of you all the same. It feels like time doesn’t pass as he wraps his arms around you, “Stay the night?” he asks, all you do is nod. 

You lay in silence for a few more seconds before you tell him, “I’m on birth control, by the way, pretty fucking risky to cum inside me without asking though.”

“I wouldn’t be mad at a little me running around if I could fuck you again.”

Not saying anything, you press a kiss to his neck before tucking yourself closer into his body– finding sleep comes to you when so often it fails you.

[queenendless]

Chase (Darth Vader x Fem!Adult!Reader)

A/n: Tales of the Empire gave me ideas. Particularly on a snowy chilly planet ... it's a very open setting as to what is going on in this so bare with me. First time writing SW stuff on here.

So AU with unburnt Vader who's also kinda OOC in this, some fluff and steamy romance with some Anakin at the end, but it's a short ass piece cause of short notice for today.

PLEASE DONT REPOST, EDIT, COPY, PLAGARIZE, TRANSLATE AND OR STEAL MY FANFIC WORK. RATHER IF YOU DO ENJOY IT THEN LIKE REBLOG AND FOLLOW ME PLS N THNX.

And May The 4th be with you.

Your cloak blew from the chilly winds.

Your hood covered head raised up to meet at the top of the snowy hill.

Climbing up with the darkening gray storm clouds piling up, heighting the anxious tension filling you up inside, the helmeted figure coming into view struck through your core.

He had pursued after your wandering lost self.

You wanted to see how far he would go, as selfish as that was.

Your fear of the cold blooded, brutal Sith Lord becomes mingled with how you are lustful of his imposing presence.

Your cape fluttered in the blowing cold winds as you hurried away, straight to the ice cave entrance.

He knew you thrive off the chase.

And you knew he was relentless in playing along.

“You cannot run forever, Y/n."

His deep modulated voice bounced off the towering crystal ice walls, using the light shining from the high cracked ceiling to guide you.

“I've come this far.” Your tepid sweet voice echoing back at him had him growling a bit.

“You cannot hide from me.”

You didn't need to be Force sensitive to feel that he was honing in on you quickly.

Your flushed nervous face met your eyes as your bumpy reflection followed your side, his heavy footsteps sounding that much closer. “Doing good so far, all things considered.”

You should have figured uttering those words into existence would jinx your ongoing streak. The moment you stepped back from the dead end and spun around on your heel, you bumped into that armored chest.

You screamed a bit as his leather black gloves grabbed your forearms and pinned you to the wall gently but firmly.

His red lenses hid his eyes boring into your very soul, his giant frame enveloping you, pressing you carefully against the alien texture. His heavy breathing made your breathing go silent like a scared mouse, caught by the big bad beast.

“The game is over.” For some reason, he sounded so smug about it.

“You're unbelievable.” You pouted up at that obsidian face.

“You're foolish.” He scoffed.

“Says the man wearing the robot suit.”

The fact that he released his grip on you and leaned back a bit to actually take off that intimidating helmet still took your breath away.

“It helps with the image.” To hear that warm enriching amused voice again already had you giggling as your hands cupped his sculpted cheeks to pull his face down to peck those tempting lips.

His helmet clanked along the ground as his arms slithered around your waist to lift you off the ground, grinning slyly to you hugging his waist in response.

“It's working, my Lord.” You shakily spoke, weaving through that shoulder length darkened hair to tug him closer, pecking many a time quite desperately.

“This little ploy of yours has gotten us completely off track.” His husky tone was sheer evidence that he did not give a damn. Not one bit.

“Forgive me, Lord Vader, for my teasing.”

You squeaked as those giant leather hands of his cupped and squeezed your ass.

“I shall have to punish you, my dear. Quite thoroughly~” Those blue eyes were riddled with devious intention, marking your neck with ferocious bites along your delectable skin.

Your fevered gasps and lecherous cries traveled the caves as you became a mess under his wet steamy mouth. “A – Ani~!”

The former Jedi turned Sith Lord smirked, devouring your mouth with that needy tongue of his.

“Hush, my love. We're just getting started.”