#THANK YOU FOR ASKING i hope you expected and wanted this can of worms

[lightlycareless]

Do you think Naoya and his brothers feel a slight resentment in the change of Naobito’s behavior towards Naohime when compared to raising them? While Naobito is certainly not Grandpa of the Year, I’m sure his behavior is a significant improvement to how he raised his own. So I’m curious if they’d hold some anger towards him or Naohime(I doubt Naoya would but I think he’s feelings might be complicated) since it shows Naobito had the capability to be better but wasn’t? Or do they think that Naohime is just a Naobito whisperer Lol

Now isn’t this an interesting ask? This is a can of worms I feared opening because it might put some of Naoya’s relatives in a bad light but hey, that’s just how some families work haha.

Anyways, I won’t say much here, everything will be either on the actual post or afterwards :> I hope you enjoy my analysis of the situation!!

Warnings: none. Difficult family dynamics.

I would love to say that all of the Nao-siblings are responsible, mature adults when it comes to their feelings but let's be real, when Naohime comes along that’s when the real issues with their nephews begin.

Sure, they always considered them to be quite spoiled from Naoya’s willingness to give them whatever they want, followed by having an actual mother that cares for them, to finally, how they don’t seem to go through the same suffering they did when growing up around people like the Zen’in. (You defend them, Naoya is somewhat softer when training them, etc)

They don’t like the whole dynamic around your family…

BUT Naohime just takes it to a whole ‘nother level. At the intervention of Naobito, they finally realize that what they felt upon seeing your family… might’ve been akin to jealousy. It’s just that Naoya gets to experience that as well this time around.

However, the worst part of it is that nobody really expresses their sentiments, so they kind of just continue to grow bottled up inside them—and you don’t blame them. It’s the first time they get to see Naobito being… well, an actual human being and not the monster they grew up to fear and avoid, so they just don’t know how to process it.

Naofumi kind of gives you hints about their current turmoil, or at least that what affects those present at the estate—I dare say Naosuke and Naohito couldn’t care less about this because they’ve moved on, really. They’re rarely home anyways. And truth to be told, when they’re told about Naobito’s and Naohime’s relationship, they don’t really believe it— but outside of that, he’s used to never being up to anyone’s expectations so there’s no difference now :’(.

Naohiko is very vocal about it too, always complaining about how the old man “now has a heart” and how “ridiculous he looks” acting like that. He blames it to old age, that he’s growing senile, or he’s finally lost it, but…. Well, he won’t do anything outside that. Like Naofumi, he’s accustomed to never being to anyone’s expectations. Dare say, he probably has children too at this point, so he can’t bother himself to care about other kids that aren’t his.

Naoaki and Naoya though… they take it the worst.

Naoya is conflicted in the sense that he’s happy that finally one of his kids appear to be of his father’s approval (he’ll never admit it, but he’s unfortunately cursed to always seek his approval, one way or the other.) it’s just that… he never expected to see that kind of behavior coming from him. For the longest time, he believed it was too ingrained in Naobito’s DNA to be evil… alongside the eternal questioning of “what does Naohime have that I don’t to earn that kind of treatment?”

He eventually overcomes this when Naohime reassures him of being the best father ever (it’s a type of “Father adores Naohime, but Naohime adores me, so take that!!), because to him being a good father is much more important than being a good son (at least to someone like Naobito.) and besides, to compare himself to Naobito is… his worst nightmare haha. But all possible thanks to your and the kid’s support ♥️.

Naoaki… yeah, he’s the worst. He effectively hates Naohime, unjustifiably, but he couldn’t hate Naobito more so he has to take it out somehow, you know?

Now, he won’t do anything outrageous, but… he’ll try to diminish her achievements, make her feel guilty about what she does or doesn’t do, and most importantly, project his own insecurities onto her, like comparing her to her siblings. Naoaki genuinely believes she doesn’t deserve all that she gets, thinks that he's worked harder and such. Kind of a “I spent my whole life training to try to appease my father, and this kid is just born and suddenly she’s all he’s ever wanted?”

But by that point Naoya is the leader of the clan so if anything happens he’ll make sure to take the necessary measures to protect his family, though I think that Naoaki would rather live anywhere else than be under the control of his brother. So, kind of like Naosuke and Naohito.

Naohime is quite a spoiled kid, but nonetheless, she’s equally loved by you and Naoya, and Naobito, it seems haha. You really did come to change the Zen’in estate for good 😭😂.

TLDR: Naoya is a bit conflicted but eventually surpasses this situation because he loves Naohime too much to let such petty things bother him. (It took YEARS to get this mature version of Naoya OOF worth it) Naoaki already disliked everything that had to do with you and Naoya so now this is just— great lol. He’ll avoid Naohime most of the time… unless Naobito inspires her to mock him 💀

There you have it :> what I believe their thoughts would be regarding Naohime’s odd relationship with Naobito. They for sure think she’s some kind of Naobito-whisperer lol and those bold enough might use that to their advantage (like get favors and such, very bad influences indeed) but I also believe it doesn’t really matter since I envision that by the time she’s around Naoya is effectively clan leader. It’s a miracle that Naobito is still around by that point lol.

I hope you enjoyed my short analysis, and you don’t know how happy it makes me to read that y’all are interested in my other characters 😭!!!! It’s the highest compliment I could get, so thank you so much for sending in this ask 🥺♥️

Take care and hope to see you soon!!

[moonstruckme]

Hey so i have a request and you can totally say no if this makes you uncomfortable but would you consider writing a poly marauders x reader where the readers depressed and can’t get anything done im asking cause I’ve been. Going through something and i thought id be okay by now but I’ve kinda regressed idk and now im depressed idk pls don’t write this if its to hard or upsetting

Thank you for your request lovely, I really hope things are getting easier for you or that they do soon <3

cw: depression

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 981 words

You realize the boys must be home when Remus crouches in front of you. You hadn’t heard the car come up the driveway, nor the door opening. You were too deep inside your own head. Or maybe you’d drifted off into another of your light, unsatisfying sleeps. 

“Hi.” He offers you a little smile, putting out his hand. You worm yours out from under your blanket to give it to him, and he rubs his thumb across your knuckles fondly. “How was your day, lovely?” 

“Fine,” you say. Your voice rasps a bit from disuse. 

“I’m opening the curtains,” James warns from somewhere behind you. “Here, take these.” 

Sirius’ grunt sounds surprised. “Since when is carrying in the groceries a relay sport?” he complains. 

True to James’ word, light floods the living room a moment later. It illuminates Remus’ face in front of you, letting you see the gentle concern in his eyes. His gaze moves up above your head just before strong hands grasp you by the shoulders. 

“I missed you,” says James, hugging downwards at you until he gives up and lets his body flop over the back of the couch, “so much, today.” 

You pet down the hair at his nape, love like a bubble in your chest that’s always on the brink of popping. You love the way James hugs; it’s like he really is trying to feel as close to you as he can be, with his face bent towards your neck and one hand splayed behind your heart. You let yourself meld to him. Remus starts collecting your little mess from the coffee table, taking things into the kitchen.

“It was only a few hours,” you say. 

James makes a jokey harrumphing sound. “A few hours too many.” He lets you go to plant a smacking kiss on your cheek. “If you could have one thing for dinner tonight, what would it be?” 

“I thought we agreed to stop playing that game,” says Sirius, coming back in to sit down on the armrest of the couch. He sees where you’re toying with James’ hair and takes a lock between his own fingers. “You need a haircut, Jamie.” 

“You’re one to talk,” James quips, though he leans into the touch, always more than happy to have his hair played with. “And we only agreed to stop playing with you, because your expectations were too high.” 

“They were not.” 

“Why would you think we’d be able to get what we needed for escargot at our corner shop?” 

“If you didn’t want to know what I actually wanted, you shouldn’t have asked.” 

“Anyway,” James turns back to you, “what would you have, lovie?” 

“And before you say,” says Sirius, “the correct answer is tomato basil soup with a cheese toastie.”

James sulks, thwarted, and you stroke your thumb over his nape consolingly. “That sounds really lovely,” you say earnestly. “Was I really supposed to guess that on my own, though?” 

“You might’ve,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I was thinking you could be my soup stirrer. If you’re up for the task.” 

It’s an odd feeling, affection and guilt intertwined so well you can’t fully tell which is which. You know James is making a point of asking you so that you might come to the kitchen, be among them for a bit instead of staying off in your own world, do a task that makes you feel productive even if it’s small. You appreciate that he does it, and you loathe yourself for making him feel the need to. You wish your boyfriends wouldn’t coddle you not because you don’t like it but because you like it too much. You don’t deserve it. 

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice draws you back out from inside your head again. It’s become such a frequent haunt you don’t always realize you’re going anymore. He’s studying you. “You okay?” 

You hum as Remus comes back in, sitting on the now clean coffee table. “Thanks for doing that,” you murmur. His eyebrows lift slightly when he realizes you’re talking to him. “Sorry I left a mess.” 

Remus tsks, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair from your forehead. “It wasn’t really a mess,” he says. “I don’t mind. Are you going to help us with dinner?” 

“Yeah.” It’s not so much a decision as a yielding, but James beams like you’ve made his day. It makes you want to cry. 

Sirius wraps an arm around your waist as you go to the kitchen, squeezing the fat of your hip lovingly. “Think I’ll take up the duty of stirring the soup, too,” he says to you. “Seems like a two-person job.” 

“Probably, yeah.” You let yourself lean into his side. He takes your weight happily, mushing a kiss into your hair. “Sorry I’m so lame lately,” you tell him quietly. “You guys don’t need to coddle me so much.” 

“You’re not lame, who said that?” Sirius jostles you a little bit. When you don’t laugh, he changes his approach, leaning his head against yours. “We’re not coddling you, sweetheart. You’re just in a rut right now, yeah? And we’re meeting you where you’re at.” 

He makes it sound so simple, but your throat clogs with the true difficulty of it all. When you reply your voice is thick. “But I don’t know if I’ll be able to get out.” 

“You will,” he promises surely. “I don’t know how long it might take, but it’ll happen. And if whatever we’re doing isn’t working for you, we can figure something else out, okay? We’re with you.” 

When James says it’s your time to stir, Sirius insists on standing behind you and holding your hand that’s holding the spoon. Remus rolls his eyes at the idea of it being a two-person job, but you don’t know. You think maybe it takes all four of you to make it work.

[seeker-ophelia]

Mythal, Solas, and Lavellan

So there’s lots of discussion about Mythal and Solas, and we need to talk about it.

I too, at first, was mad that Lavellan wasn’t enough for Solas.

And then I started thinking about it.

Not only was Mythal his mother, his creator, she coaxed him into being. Into changing his spirit and his purpose.

Regret Number 1.

He let her use his knowledge and wisdom to do a terrible thing, to kill (tranquil) the titans, changing a whole race of people at a molecular magical level.

Regret Number 2.

When that choice created the worst power known to Thedas (the blight) he was responsible again. And Mythal asked him to step up and fight against it, and he did. And a lot of people died.

Regret 3.

Mythal DIED. (IMO The gods blighted her because she stood against them for wanting to use the blight but that’s not important here). And Solas blames himself.

From Solas’ perspective, he is her puppy. Her Emerald Knight. Her General. Her Protector. Her Wisdom. Her servant, her SLAVE. He is BOUND TO HER. And he caused her downfall.

And you��re all like, GEAS! GEAS!

But wait.

From HIS perspective.

Rook says something somewhere along the lines of like, by abstainsing from being the good guy (oh wait maybe it was Varric in the fade…)

By choosing to be the villain instead of the hero is he absolving himself of the guilt (regret) that comes from having to have made those choices.

From Solas’ perspective, he is her slave.

LOOK AT HIS BODY LANGUAGE.

He is a worm in the dirt in front of her. He is a scolded child, a puppy with his tail between his legs.

But in the eyes of Mythal, he was always her friend. The one person who had always stood by her. She did not literally entrap him, or bind him. It was all in Solas’ own head.

He refused to take accountability for his actions, only able to survive through the crushing weight of his own guilt by blaming it on servitude to Mythal.

That’s why Rook escaped the prison. Because she faced her own choices, choices with terrible consequences, and accepted them. Took responsibility for them, and promised to do better.

Remember, after the Temple of Mythal…

Solas…

You gave yourself into the service of an ancient elvhen god!

What does that mean exactly?

You are Mythal’s creature now, everything you do whether you know it or not will be for her. *** You have given up a part of yourself.

***THIS WAS NEVER TRUE. IT WAS NOT TRUE FOR FLEMYTHAL & MORRIGAN, NOR WAS IT TRUE FOR ABELAS, NOR WAS IT TRUE FOR SOLAS. HE JUST WANTED TO BELIVE THAT IT WAS.

…I suppose it is better you have the power than Corypheus. Which leads to the next logical question… What will you do with the power of the Well once Corypheus is dead?

The war proved that we can’t go back to the way things were. I’ll try to help this world move forward. **Lavellan is talking about the mage/templar conflict, but Solas is putting her in his own shoes. Solas reached for power he could not control and fucked the whole world up.

You would risk everything you have with the hope that the future is better? What if it isn’t? What if you wake up to find that the future you shaped is worse than what was? **

**This is literally him asking her what she would do in his shoes. He woke up and the world was in chaos OF HIS MAKING. To prevent an evil HE CAUSED from spreading, he orchestrated the downfall of the people he loved and swore to protect.

I’ll take a breath, see where things went wrong, and then try again.

Just like that?

*He is in shock that she can be so cavalier about the guilt that has rocked him for (4?) millennia.

If we don’t keep trying, we’ll never get it right.

*And this is the only thing that calms him down.

You’re right. Thank You.

For what?

You have not been what I expected, Inquisitor, you have… impressed me.

You have offered hope that is one keeps trying, even if the consequences are grave… that someday, things will be better.

Then, of course, he takes this to mean that he needs to try to put The Evanuris in a different prison and take down the veil which isn’t at all what we meant sweetie but that’s okay get up and try again.

This is a classic case of a person in power not understanding the terrible, horrible consequences of unfettered power imbalances. Because Solas was always Friend to Mythal (Im not going into Freudian sex shit with you weirdos right now).

Solas was Mythals FRIEND.

Mythal was Solas’ EVERYTHING.

co·de·pend·en·cy

/ˌkōdəˈpend(ə)nsē/

noun

excessive emotional or psychological reliance on a partner,

His Mother, General, Creator, Protector, Queen, Goddess.

And he loved her so fiercely with every fiber of his new, physical being.

And he hated it.

And when Lavellan fell for him, and he for her, he was afraid.

Because he would never force a spirit against her purpose, and in his eyes the only way to love is the sick and twisted way he loved Mythal.

But again, from Mythal’s perspective, it wasn’t twisted. Solas was just Solas. And once again the powerful care not for the thoughts and opinions of those beneath them.

And that sin is on Mythal.

And that’s why she comes out and talks to Solas. Both aspects of her. To release him from the bonds that never existed. Be free, friend. You always were, but if you need me to say it I will because I love you.

“I pulled you from the fade and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon… and it broke you.”

Cole: Is there a way to save more spirits, Solas?

Solas: Not until the Veil is healed. The rifts draw spirits through, and the shock makes demons of them.

Cole: Pushing through makes you be yourself. You can hold onto the you. Being pulled through means you don't have enough you. You become what batters you, bruises your being.

Be free.

“The things that I have done…”

“Are not for you to bear alone, my friend. The many wrongs we did, we did together.”

And he COWERS before her. Shaking and shuddering. FNALLY being absolved of the guilt he’s carried since his inception.

“I release you from my service.”

And he SOBBS. At the RELIEF.

And Lavellan kneels before him (wrong, IMO because they should be equals but its fine)

And he can go back to his original purpose.

Not Pride.

Not Knowledge.

Not even Wisdom.

But Protection.   

“My life force now sustains the veil. With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures.”

The Shepherds Wolf. Protecting his flock from those who would do them harm.

And Lavellan promises it won’t be terrible, as long as they’re together.

And maybe Solas can try this different kind of love. A love built on respect, and trust, instead of fear, and obedience.

And he can be his purpose, Protection, and also be a man. And love his vhenan.

Because he is free.

[thegnomelord]

Hello there! I'm a new anon, kinda scared to ask and spill all of my weird ass fantasies that I can come up with, but I somehow found the courage to do so.

After reading through the soft sex fic with Makarov (and omfg I am going CRAZY over it) I just randomly came up with an idea involving that.

So hear me out (aka let me just be delusional)...

You, a member of 141, currently stand in the interrogation room, your back facing the door as you stared down at the one and only Vladimir Makarov himself. It was honestly a miracle that you had been able to capture him, and you still had no idea how the hell the rest of your team had managed it.

You were currently their last hope at getting some sort of information out of him, and by now the others knew very well by now how talented you were at getting it out of prisoners (albeit they didn't quite know what your methods were), hence why you were here in this room.

At this point you might as well have tried everything, these including the good old torture methods (which you noticed he seemed to quote like for some reason, perhaps he was a masochist, you weren’t completely sure), intimidation, asking politely (which wouldn't you know, didn't work), and practically everything you could think of.

As you racked your brain for any sort of other ideas, you could hear some sort of taunt from the other, and that must have set you off or something along those lines as you found yourself suddenly pinning the bastard down on the desk (you must have unlocked his handcuffs at one point during it, or perhaps he had already managed to unlock them beforehand, you weren't paying attention).

You wanted to think that the other was surprised, even just a little bit, but he wasn't, having probably expected you to have a small outburst.

Maybe you would have to resort to that. That one method that none of the others had seen in action, but one that if they did, you'd definitely get in a lot of trouble from. At least it always seemed to work.

So that's how you found yourself slowly fucking the other, not at all causing any pain, and although you'd expect the cold metal table would still inflicted just a little, you had taken the precaution to place something soft under the other to ensure that he couldn't get what he wanted. This was torture, even if in the eyes of others (not that they'd ever get to see this sight) it'd be much better, but no, it wasn't. You were well aware that the other wished for it to be harsh, having picked up on it earlier (the sick bastard), so you did the complete opposite. You weren't exactly used to it, but it was a last ditch effort.

So yeah thanks for reading whatever the hell that was :)

Idk how to continue it.

- ⨂ (I swear if that symbol has already been taken)

No no dude this is so good! SOrry it took me a lil while to respond lol, but you got my brain worms going brrrrrr so I'm just continuing it :Dd.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, Vladimir Makarov x male reader, short ficlet

You are so getting discharged for this.

"Is this what you wanted?" You ask under your breath, voice husky and raw. You grip his hip gently, your other hand keeping his tied wrists pinned to the scratchy blanket covering the cold table. "All that snark, all those insults," You slowly grind your hips, cock lazily scrapping against his walls and making him groan. "Is this what you wanted?"

It's not like he can talk with his tie gagging him. It's the softest material you had on hand, and it works to ensure Makarov doesn't bite you or himself. You're smart, despite him thinking on the contrary, more than the gruff animals that had captured him. No, you're clever. Clever enough to realize bloodshed and pain are not the stones that pave Makarov's road to hell.

Makarov trembles beneath you, teeth clenching on the fabric, desperate to get his lip between his teeth so he could bite it raw. He can't. Hell he can barely stifle the groans and moans, chest heaving to swallow the sound before it can stumble past his open mouth when your head grinds down on his prostate. Drool runs down his chin, precum leaking on his belly where his cock is trapped between your belies.

He wants to curse you out, wants to get his hands around your throat and squeeze until you choke on your own blood. But he only manages a small grunt, tear blurred eyes glaring up at you. His legs tighten around your waist, heels digging into your back.

A lick of pain races up your spine, but you don't fall for it, languidly rolling your hips. You'd taken your time to stretch him out with what you had, prepping him thoroughly even when he'd trashed and tried to kick you. You're glad you did, now Makarov can't ignore the stretch of his hole, your massive cock moulding his insides to your shape. It's just raw unadulterated feeling, please assaulting his mind whenever you bottom out and your cock bulges his stomach without any pain; so sweet it's sickening to him.

He'd kick himself at how the disgustingly sweet pleasure has his cock twitching, body winding tight as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. But his mind is starting to go numb, the hate he feels shrouded by the nearing edge of bliss. He nearly seizes off the table when you wrap your calloused hand around the base of his cock, squeezing until he's just at the cusp of pain.

"Nu-uh." You growl and stop, cock twitching deep inside him. Leaning down to press gentle kisses across his throat that burn him like acid. "You're not getting off easy." You growl, kissing the corner of his lip. "Not until you give me what I need." You look at him expectantly.

He bares his teeth, swinging his head to try and headbutt you, but you pull your head just at the right time.

"Have it your way." Your grip relaxes, starting to jerk him off at the same pace of your languidly rolling hips. His head rolls back, his best attempt at a hateful sound escaping him when his head rests on the soft blanket. He hates it, tries to struggle as best he can but it's fruitless as you just hold him down, forcing him to just take it, to just suffer this gentle torture.

You may be discharged for this. But fuck, you'll make him suffer before you are.

[slayfics]

Idk if you do drabble requests but I wanna ask. Katsuki getting resder pads. I can imagine two scenarios for him. Either he was too focused on hero stuff that he gets pads in all sizes, in the brand which reader asked to get. Or, total domestic househusband material. Straught away gets the pad and some snacks and comes home w a proud lil smile saying like how he knows everything about reader 🤩🤩

(Yeah I'm on my period :D)

Katsuki tends to you on your period

500 words~

You scrolled through your phone while watching mindless TV, waiting for Katsuki to return home. He had taken off to the store to grab a few things. Before leaving he had asked you if you needed anything.

To your surprise, he didn’t scrunch his nose up at you or make any snide comments when you asked him to pick up pads. Instead, he just grunted in acknowledgment and made his way out the door.

You half expected a text or call soon from a lost Katsuki in the feminine hygiene aisle completely overwhelmed with which ones to pick out. However- a call never came.

The door creaked open, and you heard the sound of his boots stomping accompanied by the rustling of what sounded to be several grocery bags. Katsuki poked his head into the living room- a devious look on his face.

“Welcome back,” you greeted him apprehensively.

Katsuki made his way to you- grocery bags in hands, “Will this do it for ya’?” he asked, spilling the contents of a few of the bags onto your lap. Multiple packs of pads in all sizes and shapes rained out.

You looked up at his teasing expression and couldn’t help but laugh, “Kats what did you do?!?”

“You didn’t specify so- I got every kind they had,” he explained a harsh laugh escaping him. “Oh wait- I also read some dumb ass article that said to get you snacks too,” he said grabbing another bag and dumping it out once more onto your lap.

Many snacks flopped out, from chocolates, and chips, to sour gummy worms. 

“Wait- got these too,” he said emptying another bag on top of you and various stuffed toys flew out. “Need anything else for your period, hm?” He asked and smiled as you proceeded to laugh until your eyes misted.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” You stated.

“Yeah, well- told ya I’m the best at everything. Including this.” He said mockingly before his features turned soft, “Seriously though- do you need anything else?” He asked.

“Just you,” you said motioning for him to sit with you. Katsuki made a scene of pushing the stuffed toys, snacks, and pads to the side to make room for himself.

“I love you,” you said kissing his cheek.

“Course you do,” he replied, causing you to slap his arm playfully. “Kidding brat- you know I love you. Wouldn’t do this dumb shit for anyone else,” he said pulling you closer to him and placing a kiss on the top of your head.

Thanks for the request! I hope this is what you were looking for! Just wanted to let everyone else know too incase you haven’t seen- I’ve opened up my requests again but only for some of the MHA boys. You can read more in my pinned post~

Tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a

[dollfacefantasy]

help okay i hope this isn't too soon but im back and i have a thirst. So basically ive been thinking about like di leon and where hes been gone on a mission for a week and when he finally comes home he has like paper work or like something on the computer and reader is just like sitting at his feet with her head in his lap while he works and she starts getting super impatient while hes on a work call and starts to act bratty and whine and stuff and then starts to suck him off and so when he hangs up he pulls her over his knee and punishes her and then they fuck. I was hoping you could put like daddy kink cuz you write it so good i love it and you can add whatever else you think fits. Hope this wasn't too much im sorry if it was.

heyyy :) so i have a fic with a kind of similar premise for leon and thirsts are usually just little blurbs to me, so i'm just gonna write part of this but thank you for the ask. i do love the idea of doing it while on the flip phone <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, blowjob, daddy kink, sort of exhibitionism

The entire desk shakes as Leon's phone chimes with the notification that someone is trying to reach him. For such a small device, it sure had a lot of vibration power.

Normally, he'd just reach over and grab it. Flip open the small cellphone, scan the caller ID, and hold it to his ear with his obligatory "Kennedy speaking."

But right now, he hesitates. He hesitates because you're beneath his desk. You'd managed to tug his pants loose and worm your fingers around his length. Your hand strokes him slowly, moving up and down as you look up at him with those alluring eyes of yours.

He'd been away on a mission for a few weeks, and as expected, your ache for him had grown strong. It would be easy to just brush your hands off and send you away till he finished working at his desk, but he had missed you too. He found it sweet, your need to be attached to him after some time apart. The only thing worse than having to leave you for so long would watching those pretty eyes fill with the sting of rejection.

"Be good while daddy's on the phone," he says quietly, as if he already had the other person on the line, "If you get me in trouble, I promise you your ass is gonna get it tenfold."

You nod in a display of your obedience, as if he was a fool to question you at all.

With your small reassurance, he grabs his phone and whips it open. Chris Redfield. Ok, so at least there was a chance it wouldn't be something too serious.

"Hey, man," he says as he brings it to his ear.

From your place on the ground, you can hear the muffled sound of his friend's voice. It's of no concern to you though. You rest your cheek on his thigh while your eyes stay locked on his cock held between your digits. You stroke it up and down, watching the flushed appendage with adoration.

Above you, he mumbles "mhm's" and "oh yeah, for sure's.” You don’t pay much attention beyond those brief affirmations. All you can think is how bad you want it in your mouth. It just looks so good, and it's been too long since you've had it.

But you shouldn't, right? He told you to be good. But this would feel so good for both of you. It seems like a win-win from your perspective.

"Yeah, that's bullshit. I don't blame you I would've done the- fuck," Leon says, getting cut off by his own hissed expletive as your lips engulf the tip of his dick.

You hear a muffled response on the other end, but you don't look up to see your boyfriend's reaction. Instead, you work his shaft deeper into your mouth.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. Got a cramp in my leg. I get 'em bad after assignments," he mutters.

His hand comes to rest on the back of your head, so clearly, he wasn't too displeased with what you were doing down there.

You brace yourself on his thighs, pads of your fingers digging into the meat of his legs. Rising and falling, your head bobs. You coat the flushed skin with your saliva, letting it dribble from your mouth down to his balls.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he wrestles with the desire to moan. Poor Chris on the other side of this call. Not a word he said was taking root in Leon's brain. The short responses were even more half-hearted than before.

"I'm listening. Sorry, I was just... preoccupied when you called, y'know?" you hear him mumble.

You swirl your tongue over the ridge and pull off to lap at more of him. Your hand strokes what your mouth can't cover. You know all his favorite tricks, and you're putting each one to use right now.

Leon runs a hand through his hair, a bit of sweat beginning to break out across his forehead. His eyes flutter, and he closes them as if that would make it easier to stave off the impending explosion of ecstasy. A soft grunt comes from him, one he's hoping isn't loud enough to raise suspicion.

"What? Yeah, she's home right now... I don't know where she is. She's... doing something around here," he responds to Chris asking about you.

A laugh rumbles through the phone. Chris says something along the lines of "you're something else."

"What?" Leon defends, "I swear I'm listening I just-"

He has to stop talking then and there. If he kept going, his words would've morphed into one of the most humiliating whines heard by him, you, and Chris. He couldn't have that. When he recovers, his next words come rushing out.

"I just gotta call you back. Give me about an hour," he says, not waiting for a reply before clapping the phone shut.

His hips buck upwards, and both of his hands land on your head, making you take all of it. You gag a little, but he doesn't lighten up.

"No, no, baby. You wanted daddy so bad. You're gonna take all of me now. No whining," he chides through a clenched jaw.

Your eyes water. You tough it out though and let him fuck your throat till you feel that familiar pulse on your tongue. He lets go down your throat, spilling himself into the warmth of your mouth with a groan. His body slumps into the chair as he rides it out. Only when he's done does he finally let you go.

You pull back and recede onto your haunches, catching your breath. As air refills your lungs, things seem clearer. The moment of relief only lasts a short while though. Seconds later your being pulled up and slung across his lap.

A pout graces your lips as you look up at him.

"Ah ah. Don't look at me like that. What'd I tell you?" he says, already rubbing your ass in preparation for the spanking you're about to get.

"But you didn't get in trouble!" you protest.

"You didn't know that when you pulled that stunt though, so you still are," he teases before landing a firm swat on your ass.

The first of many to come.

[holy-puckslibrary]

─ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜.

pairing(s) — fwb!MATTHEW TKACHUK x reader wc — 3.2k synopsis — best not-boyfriend boyfriend ever! (read the request here) note — bestie, your brain? marvelous! this was an absolute joy to write, and i hope this captures your vision!!! thank you for the request <3

main masterlist

content warnings under the cut.

cw — hints of a debut-inspired ensemble; complicated, grossly intimate situationship + emotional constipation; angst (not really) to fluffy fluffy; tswizzle references; suggestive section: "heavy petting" but nothing explicit / fade to black; brief alcohol mention + consumption; brief mention of food (no specifics); and ~emotions~ 

I. it’s getting so much clearer… 

Matthew regrets making you a key. 

Majorly.

If he’d known the can of worms he was opening when he unceremoniously dropped them in your lap one night, he would’ve listened to his brother; you don’t give girlfriend privileges to women who aren’t your girlfriend. It only leads to hurt feelings, broken console controllers, and unnecessary trouble. 

However, it’s highly unlikely this is the “trouble” to which Brady was referring. 

Rooted in the entryway, he surveys the damage. 

Beads of all shapes, sizes, and colors sit in a sea of jars. Some have spilled out under the coffee table and couch, others have made it all the way into the kitchen. Knotted balls of elastic are sprinkled throughout the chaos, as are multiple pairs of scissors, skeins of embroidery floss, and shards of construction paper. There are markers everywhere, but for some unknown reason, the crayons and sticker sheets are in nice, neat piles. A white feather boa is draped over the entertainment center and there’s a pink one curled by his feet. And, in the eye of the storm, is an anxious lump frantically stringing together DIY jewelry and muttering along to the megamix blaring through the room; he doubts you even heard him come home. 

“Sweetheart, is there a reason it looks like a craft store threw up everywhere?” Matthew shouts as he gingerly braves the hurricane. 

Something crunches under his shoe, and from the sound alone, he knows it would’ve been worse than stepping on a Lego if his feet were bare. 

He also knows that if the music were even a decibel lower, you would be pissed beyond belief. How dare he move freely through his own home without first checking for rogue pieces of plastic? His ears are ringing, but he’s grateful for it. From many years of mistakes and misadventures, he's learned you won’t get on top if you’re mad, regardless of how much groveling he does. And he's got one foot in the doghouse after last weekend as it is. 

“T-minus two days ’til Taylor, Matthew,” you grumble from the floor. “What do you think?” 

You’ve been at this for weeks. It gets worse the closer the concert gets. The mess and your mood. 

Matthew isn’t stupid, and he knows you better than he lets on. You panic under the weight of your own (often unrealistic) expectations. You need everything to be perfect, or the entire world crumbles. This, Night One of the Florida dates of the Eras Tour, is, understandably, no exception. If anything, the pressure’s dialed up to eleven. 

In stressing over every little detail, you’ve made yourself miserable. Watching you unravel makes his chest feel strange. 

You won’t ask for help. You don’t want it, either.

But, he can’t let you flounder. For his own sanity, he can’t do it. And he does care about you. Maybe not in the way everyone assumes or hopes, but he does. He’d do almost anything to lighten your load. 

Yet, Matthew treads lightly. If he’s too forthcoming, you could get the wrong idea. He doesn’t want to spook you, and he can’t have any wires getting crossed. What’s so good about your situation is how markedly uncomplicated it’s been. He refuses to be the one who fucks it up for everyone. 

So, he does what he can, and he does it without making a big deal about it. 

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, he sinks down onto the floor beside you. You’re perched on one of the obnoxious throw pillows you insisted he order to “spruce up” the space and make it look less “bachelor pad-y." As if that’s not exactly what it is. He takes this as rare permission to do the same, placing one under his hips and cuddling another to his chest as he stretches out on his stomach, phone in hand. 

Well, as stretched as a person can be in the middle of an obstacle course. 

Between the second play of “cowboy like me” and the third of “Tim McGraw,” his various feeds dry up, and he’s spammed his contacts into oblivion. You're still chugging along, like a Sad Girl automaton locked in an endless glittery assembly line. 

At one point, you murmur, “Give me your wrist." 

And he does. 

Matthew’s taken aback when you loop elastic around it to get a measurement.

He’s confused, but not for the reason one might assume. He’s painfully familiar with the friendship bracelet phenomenon and the giddy exchanges, having been force-fed hours' worth of tour content over the past year, but he never thought you’d rope him into it.

The buzz under his skin is oddly auspicious, watching you clip the appropriate length before reaching for the pile laid out near his head. 

It’s not long before you make the same request again. However, this time, you slide on a custom creation. You fiddle with it for a moment, then turn back to your station to begin the next one on the list. 

“And in which era does she cosplay as a camp counselor?” Matthew teases as he thumbs the letter beads.

They spell out a moniker he’d honestly find offensive if you hadn’t looped the song one too many times. He wonders if you’ve made yourself the matching one. 

You emit a sound that haunts his nightmares and side-eye him in a way that would’ve made a lesser man disintegrate. 

“If you don’t want it, give it back so I can give it to someone who will appreciate my time and effort,” you bite with your hand outstretched, palm up and open expectantly. 

Matthew shoves it away, suddenly defensive. “I never said that.” 

The sun slips behind the fence an hour later, and the sky bathes the house in purple-pink hues. As he gathers ingredients in the kitchen, Matthew watches the slow-moving clouds absentmindedly. He hasn't felt this content in a while.

Arms full, he wades through the arts and crafts on the way to the backyard. 

You’re still in the den, still hunched over in the same place he found you in. He shakes his head when he passes you, knowing he’s got an hour (at least) moonlighting as a masseuse in his future. 

You don’t startle or acknowledge him until the grill set you bought for his birthday clatters to the floor. 

“Why’re there two cowboy hats getting glitter all over my patio?” he asks, despite knowing the answer. And hating it. Vehemently. 

You fix him with an unamused glare. Your brow quirks, and your hands still. Then, you blink at him very slowly. Like he’s an idiot. Like he just asked a stupid question—because he did. 

Matthew’s head wags so intensely that his neck cracks.

“Oh, hell no.” 

II. it’s coming undone…

Matthew scowls at his reflection. 

“—looks so fucking stupid.” 

He can’t tell if he looks worse with or without the fur-trimmed, shimmery cowboy hat. And, honestly, it's a little distressing. After temporarily ditching it, he tugs at his curls. Then, the hem of the jersey. 

Resigned, he reaches across the bed for the homemade accessory. Wearing it will make you smile—and it gives his dignity something to hide behind. 

Twitter’s going to have a fucking field day. 

Your panicked voice spills out from the hotel bathroom, “Really?” 

“Of course, it fucking do—” 

His tirade of vanity grinds to a screeching halt at the sight of you, backlit and wilting. 

“That’s not—ah, fuck.” Matthew digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. “What I meant was—me, it looks stupid on me. Not you. On you, it looks… It looks…” 

“It looks, what?” 

It looks like he’s glad none of your friends were available because he won’t have to pretend you’re less than you are.

No lectures, no goading, no scrutiny. Just you. 

“Right.” That’s the word he settles for. “It looks right.” 

The emphasis chips away at what little believability the underwhelming affirmation had. That much is evident from the insecurity bleeding through your makeup. 

“Right,” you parrot. Skeptically, you drag out the vowel long enough that it disappears into the bathroom with you. 

Before the door clicks shut, Matthew’s already berating himself for whatever just happened. For acting like a complete doofus with a foot shoved down his throat. 

His mind is as quick as his tongue is sharp. He’s got confidence for days and a cocky demeanor primed and on-call, one that most women find endearing. Yourself included. He’s never had an issue dishing out pretty words or flirting before, especially not with you. 

With you, banter came easy. Sweet or salacious, it didn’t matter. The bob and weave, from platonic chatter to something charged and suggestive, is effortless. And it’s been that way for as long as he can remember. It's innate. He should be able to uphold his reputation in his sleep. 

What’s gotten into him? 

(You’d say the power of Taylor Swift, or some shit. Which is why he doesn’t open the floor for discussion. Among other reasons.) 

Matthew makes the executive decision to put things right. To redeem himself, to feel more like himself. 

His palms are hot and tingling as he sets off to do what he does best. Something fool-proof. Something that’ll erase the past ten minutes from the collective consciousness. Something to scratch an itch...

He won't make it through three and a half hours without catching a public indecency charge. 

Not with you looking like that.  

“I was thinking,” Matthew trails off as he comes up behind you in the en suite bathroom. His hands land on the counter, one on either side of you. “We should fool around a little bit before we leave.” 

With his chest flush to your back and his chin propped on your shoulder, he blatantly checks you out.

You, albeit begrudgingly, find it flattering. On principle, you roll your eyes. 

You snort. “Funny." 

Sarcasm pinches his face as he unintelligibly mocks you. 

Whatever witty retort he had died on his tongue when you lean forward to put some eyeliner in your waterline, inadvertently pushing the curve of your backside right into his growing bulge. 

Matthew turns you to face him without warning. 

The kohl pencil goes flying, dotting the pristine space as it tumbles to the floor. Its final resting place is unknown; you’ll follow the smudge-crumbs later. 

Later, when he doesn’t have you pressed tight between the harsh edge of the counter and his chest. 

Later, when the dull ache in your arched back dissipates. 

Later, when his attraction isn’t so painfully tangible. 

Later, when he isn’t looking at you the way he is now.  

You’re sinking in a shade of blue you don’t recognize. It’s stormy, vast and disquieting. Like any collision, you’re unable to tear your eyes away even though you know you should. It betrays an aura of foreboding, yet somehow, Matthew’s charged gaze carries a soothing effect. It's hypnotic in an stomach-twisting way. 

“I’m not laughing, sweetheart.” He breathes the words through the slight part in your lips, his voice rich and thick like honey. 

“W-We need to be quick—” 

Matthew buries his face in the sweet-smelling crook of your neck. Intent on shutting you up, he succeeds with infuriating ease once he’s latched onto your throat. He nips and sucks whenever you protest, and soon, you don’t even bother trying anymore.

Why lie and deny when what you want feels this fucking good? 

When your nails dig impatient little half-moons into his forearms, Matthew bares his teeth with a triumphant hiss.  

He grins against your skin, humming atop your erratic pulse. 

“Better hurry up and spread ‘em, then.” 

Matthew’s between your dangling boots as soon as you’ve hoisted yourself onto the counter. Kneading the soft skin of your thighs, inching up and in with eager hands, he doesn’t slow or stop until the white Self-Titled sundress is bunched up in the hinge of your hips.

“That’s my girl.” 

III. it’s delicate…

“All Tequila, No Crime” isn’t as diabolical of a cocktail as it sounds. 

Spending $100+ to taste test it and three other signature mixed drinks is. 

A robbery, if you ask him. 

What's downright criminal, though, is your inability to finish a single one. A “Last Great American G&T” with a few sips missing, a half-finished “Midnight Mule,” and a watered-down “Blue Debut” sit abandoned amongst an assortment of sweet treats and small bites. 

As he waits for what he ordered, Matthew picks at the vibrant fruit salad. He’s about to pluck a honeydew star from the pile stacked high in a bowl fashioned from a watermelon rind when the back of his neck prickles. 

“Knock it off.”

You blink, bemused. 

Matthew, having watched your reaction in a reflection, rolls his eyes. 

Back still to you, he clarifies. “You promised you wouldn’t make this a whole thing.”  

“I'm not.” 

“You've never been a good liar.” 

“Isn't that a good thing?” you deflect. 

You turn your attention back to the lively stadium, watching as it fills with laughter and anticipation. You're hoping he'll take the hint and drop it, that he won't pull the night apart at the seams. 

He abandons the sprawling buffet table in favor of the plush recliner beside yours. Once settled, Matthew slides a plate of your favorites across the small table between you. 

“Don't change the subject.” 

The cement under your boots makes for a captive audience as you sail into dicey weather. “I know—I know what I said, and I'm really trying my best, but can you blame me? I mean, c’mon, Matty. Look where we are.”

“A Taylor Swift concert?” Matthew does what he does best.

You know his tells and his tricks. You indulge neither. 

“My first Taylor Swift concert. Ever. I came out of The Queue From Hell empty-handed and shit out of luck, yet here we are. The Eras Tour. And not way up the nosebleeds or side-stage with an obstructed view. A suite. A private, fifteen-person suite—for just us. You did that.” 

Matthew shifts uncomfortably. He scratches the shadow clinging to his jaw. He looks everywhere, at everything. Everything except you. 

“So?” 

The probe is firm yet reluctant but not inherently dismissive. 

“So,” you heave a labored sigh of unease. “—so, how could I not? This ‘whole thing’ is the kindest, most thoughtful gesture anyone’s ever done for me. It means the absolute world, and I know you know that.” 

A thick, paralyzing quiet descends on the balcony. 

He does know that, which is what makes it so terrible. He knows, he knows, he knows. Matthew knows; he wishes he didn’t. For years, he successfully kept it at bay because… because you can’t just un-know something like that. Even entertaining the thought felt too big a risk. It jeopardizes the delicate peace only willful ignorance can safeguard. 

“Alright, alright. Jesus, sweetheart. Can't have you emptying the tank before the show even starts,” Matthew teases as he thumbs the tears away. “How d’ya know I didn’t pull some strings just to put an end to your perpetual pity party?” 

He’s trying to lighten the mood. Hoping to inch away from the emotionally dense zone of uncharted territory, hoping you’ll have mercy—or take pity—on him and his plight of avoidance. 

And you do.  

Ever the benevolent people-pleaser. 

You take your foot off the gas. You retreat to the status quo. You yield, but for a good cause.

Good and right aren’t synonymous. And we can’t will them to be. So, instead, we choose our battles and bide our time. 

There’s no reason to rain on tonight’s parade. 

“Thank you,” you acquiesce.  

Mathew smiles. 

This ceasefire, this tacit truce, is as fragile as rice paper. It feels as though, if someone pushed too hard from either side, they'd go right through it unchallenged. But, for now, it's enough. 

He takes your hand and squeezes. “And for the hundredth time, you’re welcome.” 

IV. it’s been a long time coming…

He gets it now. 

Truthfully, he understood after the very first bridge of the night. There’s just something about the intimacy of the spectacle; it's… indescribable. With thousands from all walks of life gathered in a single stadium to celebrate nearly two decades of singing, crying, and growing up together, it wasn't difficult to get swept up in the magic. 

For someone who’d consider themselves fan-adjacent at best, he wasn’t expecting to feel much of anything, let alone goosebumps, misty-eyed. 

He can’t even imagine how extraordinarily special it must’ve been for you, a lifelong fan, to partake in the world’s most cinematic sing-along. To luck out with your opener of choice, to be surprised with your favorite song during the acoustic set—you could probably die happy. Matthew can still feel your tear-streaked cheek against his shoulder and your shakey hand clasped in his. And he’ll remember the warmth of your joy for the rest of his life. 

He, however, doesn't have to imagine how much the experience took out of you. 

“Hey, hey. Don’t pass out on me yet, sweetheart.” 

You’re one minute into a five-minute Uber ride, and he’s already had to nudge you twice. 

Curled against the cool window like a cat, you groggily protest, “I’m not. My mind is alive, promise.”  

He snorts. “Then why’re your eyes shut?” 

“They aren’t!” 

They absolutely are. 

Matthew tugs you across his lap with a smile pulling at his cheeks. 

“Sounds like you need to get yours checked, Matthew Brendan,” you quip into his chest before drowning the backseat in delirious giggles. 

In the golden glow of the streetlamps, his smirk rests against your temple. 

Here is the moment. There have been hundreds like it in the years since you met. Lighthearted banter and late night laughter spill over into the early morning hours, all of it utter nonsense he wouldn’t trade for anything. It should be perfectly ordinary, but it's music to his ears. 

The cowboy boots he swore he wouldn’t carry home rest against his similarly sore calves. The ziplock bag, once bursting at the seams with bracelets, is empty and folded in his back pocket, and his arm is full from elbow to wrist. The glitter he contested clings to him like a second skin, there to stay. 

And he doesn’t hate it. 

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[chestharrington]

Infatuation || Gator Tillman x Reader

Part One: Fixation

Rating: E (18+)

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: SMUT (f!masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v), mild/implied stalking, abuse of power, brief non-sexual choking, harassment, slut shaming, misogyny, unplanned pregnancy, implied/referenced abortion, unhappy/ambiguous ending

Summary: As you face the consequences of your unsatisfying encounter with Gator, he finds new ways to worm his way into your life, for better or worse.

A/N: Here is the highly requested part two :) Thanks for all the love, and I hope you enjoy! This can be read as a finale of sorts to this story, but if there is interest I can write a "wrap up" epilogue :) Anyways, enjoy!

As it turns out, Gator Tillman beating the guy you were dancing on within an inch of his life wasn’t exactly good for your career. And the fact that you had technically stolen that guy’s money was the shit icing on the shit cake. 

The club was crowded, maybe more so than you were used to, but you couldn’t find a single patron who wanted you for a dance, or a private dance, or even a second of eye contact. 

And, really, you should have seen it coming just based on the general trajectory of your life, but by the end of the night, you were fired. Apparently, that stint with the realtor and Gator had harmed the stellar reputation of the business. That was bullshit anyway. Like, four people had OD’d in the bathrooms, and plenty of old guys had heart attacks on the floor. 

The problem wasn’t that the realtor got the shit beat out of him. No, plenty of guys came in, got drunk, and wanted to prove how tough they were. The problem was Gator, but, more than that, it was a fear of the Tillman’s getting too close. 

You left the club with maybe thirty dollars in tips and a box full of your shit, which you unceremoniously dumped into the trunk of your car. It was past five in the morning, which meant the sun would start creeping over the horizon soon enough. 

As you drove back into town, you couldn’t help but pull over at the twenty-four-hour diner. The homey interior glowed through the windows like a siren song to weary travelers. It always smelled like coffee and grease, and there were always oldies playing on the jukebox. You sat down in a booth and practically melted into the seat. 

The older woman taking your order seemed nice enough, though there wasn’t anything about working at the asscrack of dawn that brought a smile to anyone’s face. 

“Does Sarah still work here?” You asked, glancing back behind the counter. 

“Quit.”

Well, there was that. Your ex-husband’s skanky mistress wouldn’t be showing her face to ruin your night (or, technically, your day) even further.

There was a sign on the counter— Now Hiring! Probably in Sarah’s position, if you had to wager a guess. You chewed on the inside of your lip. It wouldn’t be glamorous, but it would be a hell of a lot better than it had been at the club. 

“You’re really hiring?” You eventually asked the older waitress as you nursed a cup of hot chocolate. When she brought out your meal— a big stack of pancakes and the greasiest pile of hash browns the world had ever seen— she placed an application and pen down right beside it. 

They really must’ve been desperate, because you got the call the following afternoon that they’d like to interview, and even that wasn’t formal. You walked in, got a three-page employee “manual”, and that was that. 

Things seemed to be getting better… at first. A new job that had significantly fewer creeps, and free food once a shift. You got to wear flat shoes and real clothes, which was also a plus. A little less money in your pocket, but it was more stable. 

Occasionally, you’d get a tipper who thought it was cute to leave a fake $100 bill with a bible verse on the other side, or an old man grabbing at your tits and ass “accidentally.” Spills and messes were more frequent than you expected— and usually wound up on your apron or soaking through your shoes.

The good with the bad. You had to keep reminding yourself to take the good with the bad.

It was a few weeks of getting on your feet before Stark County’s finest walked through the doors, boisterous and loud. You hadn’t noticed, hadn’t even thought to consider that Gator might visit the town’s best source for greasy comfort food. 

When you came out from the back of the diner, your eyes caught him immediately, sitting in your section. You swallowed, grabbed your order pad and a pen, and approached. 

“Good mornin’, officers.” He looked up at the sound of your voice, a sly grin spreading across his features. “Do y’all know what you want, or can I run through the menu for you?”

One of the other men just snapped his fingers at you. “Coffee all around.”

You swallowed and nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll get that right out.”

You heard them snickering as you left, accompanied by loud whispers of don’t you know who that is? 

Gator was staring at you, maybe he had been the entire time and you just hadn’t let yourself look. “We’ve missed you at the club, sweetheart. Wanna give us a twirl for old time’s sake?” His grin was smarmy as he looked you up and down, reaching over the table to place down the mugs of coffee. Your blouse gaped open, giving him a glimpse of your cleavage and a remarkably unsexy comfy bra.

As you reached to place the last mug down, Gator slapped your ass hard, making you spill the hot coffee across the table. His little friends laughed as your face burned hot. You did your best to mop up the mess of coffee, but it wasn’t enough and the table was left sticky and gross.

“You’re not gonna get a good tip if you’re so clumsy,” one of them said with a grin, holding up a dollar bill. It felt slimy, like you were back in the club entertaining them for singles. 

An hour later, you had coffee and grits spilled on you, as well as a plate accidentally knocked off the table to shatter on the floor. They laughed at you on your hands and knees, picking up pieces of the china from the black and white tiled floor. And at the end of it all, unsurprisingly, there was no tip, no thank you, no anything.  

You wish you would’ve spit in their food, but there was always next time. And you knew there was gonna be a next time. 

But Gator didn’t like sharing, especially not his playthings. One morning of watching his friends make your life hell had been enough, you supposed. The next time they came in, they were nothing but respectful. All yes ma’am, no ma’am, thank you ma’am. The message was clear enough. He wanted you all to himself. 

After a day on your feet, all you wanted to do was watch a shitty reality show on the couch you’d stolen from your ex-husband. You smelled like the deep fryer, which made you nauseous, but you knew if you took a shower, you’d pass out shortly after.

There was a loud knock on your door that nearly made you jump out of your skin. You stood, wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, and opened the door just a crack. 

“We got a tip that you might be harboring illegal contraband on the premises.” Gator was leaning against your doorframe like he owned the place, his foot carefully wedged between the door so you couldn’t slam it closed. 

You grit your teeth. What bullshit. “You don’t have a search warrant, asshole.”

He gave a careless shrug. “Eh, maybe I don’t, but who fuckin’ cares about that?”

You stood firm, holding the door in place as best as you could while he pushed against it. “Gator, no. Whatever game this is, I don’t wanna play. I have a headache, and I’m exhausted, so—” He gave a firm push on the door, and your strength failed you. You fell to the side as he barreled his way in, making a beeline towards your bedroom.

The door slammed shut, followed by the click of the lock turning. With a groan, you went for the coat closet and retrieved a wire hanger that you could finagle the lock with. After a moment, the lock clicked again and you pushed your way into the room. 

What the fuck? He was rifling through your dresser drawers, tossing things onto the ground at random. You doubted he was even really looking for anything in particular. Gator’s priority, above all, was to be a creepy nuisance.

“Gotta be thorough,” he said with a smarmy grin, finally recognizing your presence. “Interfere, and I’m bringing you in for obstruction.” Like the perv he was, he was digging through your panties, grabbing handfuls of lace and cotton. He continued on, throwing things onto the floor just to piss you off. After he’d successfully wrecked one dresser, he moved to the nightstand. 

He smiled victoriously and dumped the contents of the drawer onto your bed. Your cheeks flamed with embarrassment at the sight of your modest collection of sex toys, right there for him to see. 

“There we are. This goes against the city ordinance prohibiting the ownership of more than two personal pleasure devices,” he said matter-of-factly.

“That’s not a thing,” you argued with a scoff.

He grinned. “Oh, it is. My dad worked to codify an ordinance to fight obscenity. And Jesus Christ, sweetheart, this is obscene.” He surveyed the pile picking up the devices with amusement and a hint of disgust. “Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ fiend by the looks of it. What’s this even do?”

You grabbed at the vibrator in his hand, but he held it up above your head with a grin. “You’re a fuckin’ pervert,” You hissed.

He pressed a button and it buzzed to life, which only made his amusement grow. “You know, if you found yourself a man, you wouldn’t need any of this shit.”

You rolled your eyes at the notion. Half that stuff was collected during your marriage, not that it mattered. Jack was worse in bed than he was at being faithful. You grew to relish in the nights when he was in some other woman’s arms and you could finally find some release. 

And you especially relished an opportunity to relax and relieve stress when Gator was hellbent on ruining your fucking life, which was all the time. 

You crossed your arms and glared up at him. “That’s a crazy thing for you to say considering you didn’t even bother to get me off.”

He wrinkled his face in annoyance, dropping the vibrator back onto the bed. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about? You came probably, like, three times.”

You could have laughed. “Whatever. Just write the goddamn citation and leave me alone.”

“Maybe I’m concerned about you,” he said with a shrug. “I mean, if you’ve got this many sex toys, that’s some kind of perversion or somethin’. You’re sick in the head. What kind of officer would I be if I punished you for that?”

He grabbed another one off your bed, a rabbit vibrator this time, which only seemed to confuse him more. “Besides, I don’t think you can really afford the fine for breaking this law. I mean, with what you’ve got here, you’re looking at thousands.”

Anger flooded your veins. “Bullshit,” You snapped. “You’re lying.”

“I mean, you can find out tomorrow,” he replied with another stupid fucking shrug. “Or I can forget I ever saw ‘em. Up to you.”

You swallowed hard, already getting a warm, overbearing feeling in the pit of your stomach. Like your body wasn't sure if it wanted to jump his bones or kill him. “And what exactly would make you do that?”

He smiled, showing off his canines. “I mean… now I’m a little curious. Tell me how you use some of ‘em.” He waved the rabbit in his hand. “This one especially. Looks like some kind of fucked up torture device.”

You huffed with annoyance and reached up, grabbing it from his hands. “This one, I mean… this part goes in, and this part stays out.” You explained with vague gestures toward the toy. You grabbed another off the bed. “And this one is, like, just a standard, like, you know. It buzzes. And that one like, kind of thrusts a little bit. I—I don’t know what the fuck else to tell you.” Just seeing him standing there beside the toys made your brain go a little fuzzy with desire and mortification.

He stepped closer, closing the distance between the two of you. “I think I’m more of a visual learner, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low. He reached up, brushing a lock of your hair from your face, and you did your best not to lean into his touch. Why did you want that? “So why dontcha take off your clothes, lay back, and do a little show and tell, huh?”

The moment of hesitation in your brain dissolved in an instant. You wrinkled your face in disgust and shoved him back. “Ugh. Fuck that, and fuck you.” 

Anger flashed across his face, only for a moment, before he masked it with his usual shithead attitude. “Oh… I get it,” he said, looking down at you. “Probably on your period with all the attitude you’re givin’ me. Forget it, I don’t even wanna see that nasty shit.”

You narrowly avoided him as he shoved past you, heading back towards the door. The scales of kiss versus kill had firmly tilted towards the latter at his last comment. Anger unlike anything you’d ever felt flooded your veins. 

Without thinking, you grabbed a book off of the coffee table in the living room and threw it at him as hard as you could. It collided with the back of his head and he swore loudly. 

“You’re fuckin’ crazy!” His hand went to the crown of his head and came back covered in blood. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid bitch?” You grabbed another book and raised a brow in challenge. “Whatever, you’re not even worth it anyway.”

He slammed the door on his way out. The squeal of his tires as he peeled out was music to your ears. 

Later, you sighed as you collapsed atop your bed, exhausted from the long process of cleaning up the disaster he’d left in your room. But despite how tired you felt physically, your mind was still racing with thoughts of Gator. 

The worst person you’d ever met, who somehow still managed to light every single one of your cells aflame with need. You didn’t want to be with him, obviously. He reminded you of all the worst parts of your ex-husband. And yet… you were staring at the ceiling thinking about the next time you’d see him and all the bitchy things you could get away with saying to him. 

With a huff, you reached into your bedside table and grabbed the first vibrator you could get your hands on— simple, without any bells and whistles. Whatever. You were pissed at yourself as you stripped off your pajamas, then your bra… and then your panties. 

Stupid fuckin’ man. Your head fell back against your pillows as soon as the vibrator touched your clit, and you couldn’t help the whiny moan that escaped your lips. Your free hand rested on your breast, kneading softly until it wasn’t enough anymore. 

Your legs spread wider, hips canting up to seek out more as you began pinching and tugging at your nipples. The plain vibe wasn’t close cutting it, even at its highest setting. All it was good for was working you up to the point of dripping with arousal and needing more. 

You clicked it off and sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. Maybe he was right. Maybe you were a little sick in the head. Why else would you be thinking about him right then?

You reached back into the drawer, fumbling blindly until you retrieved the rabbit. It slid in without any resistance with how worked up you were, and you let out a contented sigh at the full feeling.

The second you turned it on, it felt like liquid electricity was dancing through your veins. The external vibrator was positioned just right, so intense that your thighs were trembling. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered, back arching slightly. Maybe you could’ve let him watch you. It would’ve taught the asshole what it actually looks like when a woman cums. 

You could almost imagine what he’d say too— encouragements veiled with insults. Takin’ it like a fuckin’ slut, aren’t ya? Look right at home on your back like that, spread out all nice and pretty. 

You thrust the toy shallowly, eyes rolling back as it brushed against your sweet spot. You could’ve really drawn it out and made an evening of it, but fuck it. You wanted to get off and go to sleep. 

You held it just right, so the vibration was focused on your g-spot and clit simultaneously. It was so intense that your moans were pitchy and whiny, hips canting as you got closer and closer. 

With a moan more like a sob, you came, the pleasure so intense you had to pull out the toy altogether. As soon as it was out, wetness sprayed from you, making a breathless moan slip past your lips. 

Your fingers rubbed at your clit, prolonging the orgasm and making your cunt gush and leave a puddle beneath you on the sheets. When you finally came down, it was with shaky breaths as your body trembled with aftershocks. 

You laughed weakly at the ridiculousness of the entire night up until that point, unable to move for a solid few minutes until the fog cleared from your mind and you reached over to turn off the toy. Your legs wobbled as you stood to clean yourself up and change the sheets.

Well, at least if you were going to get arrested for possession of obscene materials, you got the best orgasm of your life out of it. If only you hadn’t been thinking of him the entire time. 

——

By noon the following day, you hadn’t received any citation, or been walked out of the diner in handcuffs for your depravity. A quick Google search proved your suspicions that the obscenity ordinance was complete bullshit. Which, you know, made sense considering the sex shop and strip clubs within county lines. 

When Gator showed up in his regular booth towards the end of your shift, you did your best to ignore him. One of your coworkers brought him out his artery-clogging usual order, and you were mostly convinced that you might be able to slip out the back without even having to utter a word. 

And yet… Outside, Gator was leaning on your car, fucking around with your radio antenna absentmindedly. 

“Can I help you, Deputy?” You asked, arms crossed as you squinted against the sun. Your entire body was achy and you just wanted to get home.

He made a vague gesture towards the front bumper. “Headlight’s out.”

You glanced at the front of your car, which was mostly held together by zebra print duct tape and sheer force of will. “Yeah, well, some fuckin’ pervert told me I should save my money to pay for some citation he’s writing up for me.”

Gator grinned. “Oh yeah… I decided to let you off with a warning. For the assault too. My head fuckin’ hurts, you know.” You rolled your eyes, pushing him lightly so you could open your door. “Y’know, you’re being ungrateful. Why don’t you be a good girl and say, ‘Thank you, Gator.’”

You hated the way your heart raced just hearing those words coming from his mouth, but you pushed it down and pulled open the door. “Go fuck yourself, asshole.”

A smug smile spread across his lips. “That’s an interesting choice of words, isn’t it? Bet you had a real good night after I left, didn’t ya?” 

He was looking at you like he knew, which he couldn’t have, but he also definitely did. You made a face as you slammed the door shut and flipped him off through the cracked and peeling window tint. 

There was one bar in town that was a certified Gator-free zone. Apparently, he’d gotten into a nasty fight there, slammed a guy’s head into a pool table a few times, sent him to the ICU for a week. Most people don’t realize that the actual table part is made of a giant slab of slate, but a lot was learned that day.

You sat at the bar, eyes trained on the photo of Gator on the Do Not Serve bulletin board. He could be kind of handsome when he wanted to. In that picture he looked a little younger, a little more serious. Maybe a little softer if you really wanted to believe it (which you did). 

Maybe it was the fact that you had conned the guy beside you into buying you all your drinks (of which there had been plenty) or maybe it was the weird mood you’d been in for the past month, but you really wanted to just wash all of that gel out of his hair and wash his face and maybe buy him a pair of pants with the normal amount of pockets. 

“Did you hear what I said?” The guy sitting beside you— Noah? Nathan?— asked. 

You tore your gaze from the photo and turned to him, batting your eyes a few times for good measure. “Sorry, I think I’m just a little buzzed.” You smiled flirtatiously and nudged his arm with your own. “You were talking about… a trip to New York, right? Some sort of walking tour?”

He smiled, nodding enthusiastically before continuing, going on and on about things you were mostly half-listening to. He was smarter than most people you talked to, not surprising after you clocked the giant gold college ring on his hand. Mid-conversation, you grabbed his hand in yours and marveled at it, playing up how impressed you were just to make him feel important. 

His family is from around here, but he lived in Minneapolis. He was in town visiting while his mom was recovering from surgery. He showed you pictures of the cows on his mom’s land, of the view from his apartment, and of the dog that was waiting for him back at his mom’s place. He was sweet, which made you feel guilty for using him to forget all about Gator. 

“Do you want to maybe come back to mine?” You asked, playing at bashfulness. He nodded enthusiastically, looking like you’d just offered him a winning lottery ticket. 

In bed, he was generous and eager to please, making sure your needs had been taken care of before his pants were even off. You were so worked up and sensitive that you came twice from his mouth alone, not that he was even particularly that great with it. And then he was inside of you, and you came again, which probably gave him quite the ego. 

It had to be some kind of fluke. He was a sweet guy, but he wasn’t exactly a sex god.

But there you were, boneless and panting and flushed and sweaty as you both came down. He was red in the face, fumbling for his glasses so he could really see you.

He wanted to talk and stay up the rest of the night with you, which should’ve been nice. Really, you wanted to be excited. He even tried to ease you into his arms, hold you against him all nice and cozy.

You couldn’t fucking do it. 

“I’m just gonna grab some water, alright?” You said before hopping out of bed. Your robe was slung over the back of a papasan chair in the corner. You tied it loosely and made your way out of the bedroom. Needing space, and distance, and god, you didn’t even know.

A sane person would have turned back around, spent time with him, and gotten to know him better. Maybe even wake him up in the morning with coffee and pancakes, or a second round in the shower. But you just wanted to be alone.

The knock on your door shouldn’t have been surprising. You had been pretty loud, even louder than the previous night alone. You tied the robe a little tighter and went for the front door, opening it a crack. 

“Look, I’m sorry, I know we were l—“ You trailed off when you caught a glimpse of who was outside. “You’re kidding me.”

Gator stood on the porch, arms crossed and looking irritable. “Got a noise complaint,” he said, glancing between you and the house behind you. “You alone?”

“No,” you replied, crossing your arm. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

He scowled at that, and you recognized the way he was feeling almost immediately. Oh, he was jealous. A tiny laugh escaped you, which only served to piss him off more. 

“What’s so fuckin’ funny, huh?”

“Nothin’,” you replied with a shrug. “Is that all, deputy?”

He puffed on his vape and the sickeningly sweet smell of watermelon or cotton candy or whatever the fuck made your stomach turn. You gagged, mouth turning into a frown. “Do you have to blow that shit right in my face?”

“Nope,” he said while repeating the same action. The smell was overwhelming. You could almost feel alarm bells going off inside.  “Whatever. Better go on and send your fuck buddy back to whatever hole he crawled out of.”

In the back of your mind, you could hear Gator going on and on, talking about how he bet Noah (how did he know his name?) didn’t even make you cum, and that his dick was small, and he’s probably just some big city loser who comes out here for an easy fuck. But that was in the back of your mind. All you were focused on was the overwhelming smell of sugar as he fucking huffed his vape, and the sinking feeling in your gut. 

Nausea clawed up your throat, and a familiar feeling of panic settled over you. You clapped your hand over your mouth, but it was no use. The contents of your stomach spilled onto the floor as you vomited right onto Gator’s boots. 

He swore loudly and colorfully, stepping out of the puddle at his feet. You wiped at your mouth weakly, and you would’ve said something like I fucking told you so, but you just felt awful. 

“That’s so gross,” was all you could offer. “‘M sorry, Gator.”

And then you were crying your eyes out, and he was walking you inside so you could sit down, and that made you cry more. 

“Jesus, you’re moody, huh?” He asked, but the bite in his voice was nearly gone. “Stay here, alright? Before you make an even bigger mess.”

You sniffled and nodded. You saw Noah stepping into the living room, wearing his actual clothes again, which was a relief. You didn’t really want Gator seeing him naked. 

“Is everything okay?” He asked, taking a few steps forward. 

“I’m fine, I’m just embarrassed,” you said, voice croaky with tears. “I just got sick from the drinking, I think.”

There was a noise from the kitchen and Noah furrowed his brows. “You have a roommate?”

“No, he’s—“ you trailed off, unsure of what to say. “He was here to handle a noise complaint, and I kind of puked on his shoes.”

Gator walked into the room, then paused at the sight of Noah. His face furrowed in blatant judgment. He handed you a sprite, then went straight back to staring at Noah.

“Who’re you?” Gator asked, his arms crossed like a club bouncer. 

“I’m Nick.” Oh. Well, at least you were close.  

“You should head out, dick,” he said, standing taller, trying to appear more imposing than he really was. 

Noah glanced at you and hesitated until you gave a tiny nod. “I had a good time,” you offered. “Sorry about… all of this.”

He scribbled his phone number onto your grocery list by the door, offered a wave, and then headed out, leaving you and Gator alone. For better or worse. 

It was quiet as you sipped your sprite, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Are you pregnant?” He asked suddenly. “And don’t fuckin’ lie.”

“What?”

“You’re acting all bipolar, and you're puking over my vape, and your tits look bigger.” You glanced down at your boobs with a frown. They did? 

“I’m not pregnant,” you replied defensively. “I got my period, like, right after we fucked.”

He shook his head. “I don’t believe you. You wanna know what I do believe?” You didn’t, but he was going to tell you. “That you pocketed the money for the Plan B, ‘cause you want to get pregnant and blackmail my family.”

You scoffed. “You’re out of your goddamn mind.”

His jaw ticked with annoyance as he looked down at you. “Take a test.”

“Whatever,” you said with a shrug. “I’ll buy one after my shift tomorrow if you’re so fuckin’ worried about it.”

He shook his head. “Fuck that,” he said while tapping away on his phone. “You’ll just lie about it. I’m doordashing this shit.”

You would’ve protested, but what was the point in that? You had nothing to hide— certainly not blackmail. The idea of purposely letting yourself get knocked up by Gator Tillman almost made you want to puke again.

You had finished your Sprite by the time the poor kid arrived, probably seventeen, with his face burning red as he handed Gator a bag from the twenty-four-hour convenience store. Gator slammed the door and dumped the contents of the bag on the coffee table. 

Two boxes of pregnancy tests, a monster energy drink, and a pack of cheese bugles.

You grabbed the boxes and trudged towards the bathroom attached to your room while Gator followed close behind. You went to shut the door, but he held it open. 

“No fuckin’ way,” he said firmly. “If I leave you’ll just fake it.”

You rolled your eyes, the irritability you felt close to reaching a boiling point. “I’m not pregnant! I don’t want to be pregnant, least of all with your fuckin’ kid!” 

When he didn’t move, and, to his credit, stayed completely stoic. You huffed and turned. “If you’re not gonna leave, you can be useful. Hand me one of the little cups beneath the sink. Next to the mouthwash.” He furrowed his brows, but obeyed. “I’m not pissing in front of you.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen worse.” You closed your eyes, doing your best to ignore him and just pee into the fucking cup. The whole situation was so infuriating that you just wanted to scream. Once your shy bladder got over itself, it was easy enough. Dip the tests in the cup, cap them again, lay them out and try to forget they’re there. 

You’d taken plenty over the course of your marriage— and you hoped for the same result then that you did before. 

“What’d it say?” Gator asked as you washed your hands. He was squinting down at the tests, trying to discern what was happening. 

“It’s not instant. You’ve gotta wait three minutes,” you said. After drying your hands, you looked at him again.

Really looked. He was all fidgety, a little pale. His lip was bleeding where he’d been biting at it. He was just as anxious as you were, but you doubted it was for the reason he was saying. 

“You kind of want one, don’t you?” You asked, meeting his gaze.

He scoffed. “No. I hate kids,” the words came out quickly, defensively. He was lying, and he was just as bad at it then as he was every time before. “Besides, what the fuck would I tell my dad if I knocked up a stripper?”

His words should’ve had some bite to them, but he just reminded you of a skittish animal lashing out at anything near it. You leaned against the doorframe and sighed. “You’re pushing thirty, Gator. Who fuckin’ cares what your dad thinks about you?” Gator rolled his eyes, because you just didn’t get it, or whatever. But you knew plenty about outrunning parents and the weight of expectations. About outrunning the weight of not being what they wanted.

You looked at him again, narrowing your eyes. “What do you really want, huh? Outside of making my life hell, terrorizing the town, and making your daddy proud?” You paused, but were met with silence. “If you’d just try to be a decent human being for once, you might find a nice girl who wants to be with you.”

“And that asshole you brought back here and fucked was decent, huh?”

“I think so, yeah,” you replied.

“And you’re gonna see him again? ‘Cause he’s so nice?”

“No, Gator, I’m not gonna see him again,” you said sharply. “I’m not, because he deserves better than a second night with someone who didn’t want to be around him.”

Before he could respond, the timer on your phone went off, louder in the tiled bathroom. Your hands fumbled as you turned it off, heart pounding with nerves. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, just look,” Gator said, clearly annoyed by your hesitance. You watched him flip them over, one by one, all reading the same result. 

Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive.

Gator squinted at the lines, then at the back of the box, a few times until it settled in. 

“Goddamn it!” He shouted, slamming a hand against the counter. You flinched, but couldn’t bring yourself to react further than that. “I told you to take a fucking Plan B, didn’t I?”

You swallowed hard, doing your best to remain calm. “You did, and I did. Maybe, if you didn’t want to knock me up, you should’ve pulled out like I told you.”

He rolled his eyes. “You know, it probably isn’t even mine,” he said, glaring in your direction. “You let that asshole from the bar cum in you tonight?”

Your cheeks burned hot. “You’re disgusting,” you sneered. “And, no. I don’t make a habit of letting guys fuck me raw.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, but you were so willing to give it up for me, huh?” He grabbed your arm, hard for the briefest second before his grip softened. “See, this is why I know you’re tryin’ to fuck my family over.”

You gave an exasperated groan and yanked your arm out of his grasp. “One, you didn’t pull out. Two, how exactly am I gonna blackmail your family if there’s no baby, you fucking idiot?”

His expression softened slightly as he considered your words. His brows furrowed in confusion, as he looked back at the tests. “Those are all positive, that means you’re pregnant.”

You gave a long exhale and met his gaze. “And it’s early enough that I can still have it taken care of. Maybe not in this fuckin’ state, but my car can still make a trip to Minnesota. Probably.”

He processed the words and the implications before shaking his head. “No.”

You raised a brow, taken off-guard by that single word. “I’m sorry?”

He shook his head. “I said no. You’re not doin’ it.”

You scoffed incredulously, blinking away your confusion. “Five seconds ago you wanted to punch through my drywall because you thought you were being blackmailed. Now you suddenly care about the sanctity of life? Give me a break. You nearly beat that guy to death in front of me at the club, and from what I’ve heard, you’ve done worse than that.”

”It’s different,” he argued, annoyed that you called out his hypocrisy.  “It’s mine, so I should have some sort of say.”

You swallowed hard, staring at the curtains near the window so you could avoid his eyes. “Exactly. It’s yours. I don’t want to have your baby, Gator. I don’t want to bring another goddamn Tillman into the world.”

He had you pressed against the wall before you even had a second to realize he was moving. Your head knocked against the drywall, making you yelp. One hand was wrapped around your throat, keeping you pinned to the wall with a light amount of force. “I could stop you,” he finally said. “I mean… really stop you. Make it so you can’t leave. Could keep you at the ranch, make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t, because that would mean involving his father. Knocking up a stripper doesn’t exactly give men like his father warm and fuzzy feelings. 

When you swallowed, your throat bobbed against the palm of his hand. Your eyes trailed up, landing on his as your breathing came out in pants. 

His mouth was on yours suddenly, claiming you with a searing kiss. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, making you moan.

He’d never kissed you before, not once. You hadn’t even thought he’d want to. But there he was, groaning into your mouth as he made out with you.

“Gator—“ you gasped as he ground against you, already rock hard without any real coaxing. He shut you up with another kiss, hungry and messy. 

You got the message— no more talking about that. He pulled the tie of the robe you wore and it fell onto the ground in a pile, leaving you completely bare. 

He pulled back from the kiss, eyes raking over your body hungrily. Big hands traced over your skin, making you shiver. A gasp escaped you as he squeezed your tits. 

“They really are bigger,” he said with a wry laugh.

“Shut up,” you snapped, head knocking against the wall as you tossed it back. 

“You’ve got a bad fuckin’ attitude. But I can fix that.” One of his hands moved down your body, cupping your cunt, fingers dipping into the pool of your arousal. “You get this soaked for that asshole?”

You whimpered as his fingertips teased your entrance, just shy of everywhere you needed him. Just shy of slipping inside, purposely avoiding your clit. He locked eyes with you, his gaze intense. 

“Don’t be shy, you can tell the truth,” he said,  continuing to tease with featherlight touches. You could feel just how wet you were getting— dripping embarrassingly down your thighs. 

“Only ‘cause I thought about you,” you admitted. A sly grin spread across your face. You’d never let him have an easy win. “You’d probably be one of the best fucks I ever had if you bothered to make me cum.”

“Don’t fuckin’ piss me off,” he said with an eye roll. He thrust his middle finger inside of you, and you moaned softly. “Such a goddamn liar.”

He was a little more gentle with you, despite, well, everything. Warming you up with one finger before adding a second. Moans fell from your lips as he curled them just right, the cocky expression he wore told you he was dead set on proving that he really was top-ten material. 

His thumb brushed against your clit, making your legs tremble. You couldn’t help but clench around his fingers, your entire body overwhelmed with need. Maybe it was hormones, or maybe it was all the tension between you, but your entire body was aching for him. 

“Close,” you gasped out. Your open, panting mouth was like an invitation. He kissed you deeply, his tongue licking into your mouth as he continued fucking you with his fingers. When he pulled back, his eyes locked with yours. 

“That’s it,” he practically cooed. “C’mon, give it to me.” You moaned, walls clenching around his fingers as you grew closer and closer to the edge. He tried to pull his hand from between your thighs, but you grabbed his wrist and shook your head. 

“Gator, don’t fuckin’ stop until I tell you to.” His cheeks went pink, eyes flashing with something unfamiliar. 

Your moans grew pitchy as you got closer, hips canting against his fingers, shoulders digging into the wall as your back arched off of it. 

You barely had time to gasp out a feeble, “‘m cumming!” Before your climax hit.

Broken moans escaped you as pleasure radiated through you. His fingers kept their pace, and every brush of his thumb on your clit made spots dance across your vision. When you were finally spent, you had to tap his wrist weakly. “Okay, that’s enough,” you managed. 

He was coated down to his wrist with sticky arousal, which made you look away with heat burning in your cheeks, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

He grabbed your jaw and turned your face back to look at him, wearing a smug expression. “Don’t act all shy now. Tell me you want more.” Bold of him to assume he could make you cum again. But you nodded anyway. You’d like to see him try, at least. 

“I want more,” you said, even though it killed you to just give in so easily. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, before he pressed a little more and breached the pouty seal of your lips. 

“Yeah? Your friend didn’t wear you out before this?” He asked, his voice dripping with a false sense of concern. He pushed his thumb a little deeper, pressing down on your tongue while you sucked on it. You had a pretty good sense of what he was getting at, but a hot need was bubbling up in your stomach and you couldn’t deny yourself any longer. “I’m just saying, sweetheart. Takin’ two cocks in one night is… well, it’s pretty fuckin’ slutty.”

At his words, you bit down on his thumb until he withdrew it with an annoyed huff. “You wanna leave?” You asked, raising a brow. He shook his head. You stepped around him, settling in the middle of the bed. “Take your clothes off then.”

He was quick to undress, clumsy in his haste. His vest knocked against the wall and sent a picture frame tumbling off its hook. He stripped off piece after piece in a sort of never-ending Russian doll until he was finally naked and standing there waiting for you to compliment him, or something. 

You took in the sight of him hungrily, and the hormonal neediness of it all made you want him more than you had before. “You’ll do,” was all you said, smirking as he pinned you down against the mattress.

“You’re such a bitch,” he said, but there wasn’t any real malice in his tone. Actually, you were pretty sure he liked it about you. You spread your legs to accommodate him, shivering as he rocked his hips just so and let the head of his cock brush against your folds. “But you want me so bad, huh? Just need me to fuck that attitude out of you, don’t you?”

You whimpered when he pressed himself against your center, only letting the tip slip inside briefly before pulling back out. He raised a brow, wanting to hear you beg.

”Gator, if you don’t get inside me, I’ll call Nick to finish the job.”

You would have laughed at how quickly he buried himself within you after that if the force of it hadn’t punched the air from your lungs. His pace was brutal, and the sound of his hips slapping against the plush of your thighs with each rough thrust made sheepishness settle warm in your chest.

“You act like— fuck— like you don’t want me, but I don’t think this pussy got that memo.” A smirk played at his lips as he railed into you, soft grunts punctuating each thrust in. You wrapped your legs around him, pressing with your heels to encourage him deeper. 

He was such a self-assured asshole, but, fuck, if that didn’t turn you on. He had one of your hands pinned to the bed, fingers tangled with yours. 

“Go ahead and touch yourself,” Gator instructed. 

He didn’t have to tell you twice. As soon as the words passed his lips, you moved your free hand between your thighs to circle your clit. The feeling was damn near euphoric. Breathy moans fell from your lips as your head fell back against the pillows.

And Gator was fucking eating it up. 

“That feel good, huh?” His voice was breathy; his words were punctuated with moans and fucked-out pants. “Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, sweetheart. You’re really lovin’ this, huh? Bet you wanna be stuffed full of this cock every day. Coulda had this again a lot sooner if ya weren’t such a bitch all of the time.”

You could feel yourself reaching your finish, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him. Each moan slipping past your lips was even more debauched than the last as he buried himself inside your needy cunt. 

“It’s too much, huh?” He asked, fucking you with a relentless need to cum. With each thrust his cock kissed your cervix. “You can take it, can’t you? Made just to take this cock inside your needy little pussy.”

Your eyes rolled back as your walls clamped around him, your finish so close you could have sobbed with relief. You came with a cry of his name, which would have been mortifying, had you been in a mindset to retain your pride. 

“F-Fuck—“ He cried out, his hips stuttering. “Holy fuckin’ shit— gonna cum— fuck—“ He buried himself in you with one final, rough thrust before he went still, collapsing atop you with his full body weight. 

He laid there, panting hot breath against your neck until he came back to his senses. He gave one final wet kiss to your throat before rolling over with a pleased sigh.

“You finally know what it feels like,” you mused, staring up at the ceiling. 

Gator furrowed his brows as he turned to look at you. “I’ve fucked you before, it’s nothin’ special this time.” 

Gee, thanks. “I meant you finally know what it feels like for a girl to cum while you’re inside her.” You grinned as you watched annoyance twist his features. He rolled his eyes with a huff, but didn’t seem too pissed off at your jab. 

It was contentedly quiet until you remembered the pregnancy tests sitting on the counter just one room over. Your stomach twisted with guilt as you looked over at him, his hair a little messy, cheeks flushed from exertion.

It would’ve been nice if things were different.

“I’m moving,” you said finally. “Back to Texas, I think. Maybe even somewhere new. As soon as I’ve saved enough for a down payment.”

Gator turned quickly, anger making his brows furrow. “Leaving?”

You swallowed hard. “I’m getting out of Lehigh, and I think you should too. This place is poison. You know that.”

You watched him swallow, jaw ticking as he stayed quiet. You let the quiet linger in the air, nearly choking on it before he finally spoke. “This is where I belong.”

You nodded and said nothing else. When you woke up in the morning, his arms were around you, and he was drooling into the junction of your shoulder. His hand, flat on your tummy, almost made you yearn for that picture-perfect Tillman family, the one he thought he wanted so badly.

You couldn’t bring yourself to wake him up. When he left, he didn’t say a thing. It felt definite.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Could you do one where the f reader and Eddie Munson are friends and she’s Henderson’s sister. Plus sized and wearing big glasses. A book worm but with a bunch of ear piercings. They end up playing truth or dare and they end up sleeping together after and a confession of long hidden feelings?

Thank you so much for the request, lovely!!

Eddie x fem!plus size!reader

cw: MDNI 18+ smut, (p in v), brief mention of fatphobia

The sun shone into Eddie’s bedroom, giving you the perfect light to read your book. Your best friend, Eddie was laying on your stomach, playing his Game Boy, the only noise that could be heard throughout the room coming from the thing as a part of whatever game he was playing. 

You looked down at him in admiration, loving the way his tongue was sticking out a bit, a cute little thing he did when he was focusing on something. Part of you wanted to tell you how you really felt about him, but you couldn’t risk ruining your friendship. You didn’t have many friends and you really couldn’t lose the best one you ever had.

Eddie turned to face you, his game being thrown to the side. You glanced at him, seeing the look of mischief of his face then pushed your glasses further up through bridge of your nose before turning back to your book, not in the mood for his games.

“Y/n,” he whined. “Pay attention to me.” He buried his face into your stomach and you moved your free hand to his hair, giving his head a little scratch, hoping that would help.

“I will once I finish this chapter.” Eddie couldn’t wait that long. He was growing bored of his game and needed something to else to do.

“How good can it be?” He scoffed and you just rolled your eyes.

“Really good.” Sasha and Wren were just about to duel and you had to know if they were going to put their differences aside and finally kiss.

“Let me see that.” He grabbed the book from you and read a few words before taking your bookmark to keep your place then set it aside. “Boring.” He feigned a yawn then snuggled into your shoulder.

“Oh no, you’re not going to interrupt my reading then fall asleep.” You pushed him off of you then sat up. Eddie then moved to sit in front of you, his eyes locking on yours.

“How about we play a game, then?”

“We can go to the arcade.” You didn’t like the idea of going anywhere, but maybe Eddie would win you a prize. That made it seem worth it.

“Or we can play something right here,” he smirked and you didn’t like what he was up to. The mischievous look appeared on his face again and you leaned away, not wanting got get dragged into whatever he was planning.

“We should play truth or dare.” That was worse than what you were expecting. You didn’t actually think that people played that game, that it was something that only happened in movies.

“What are you, twelve?” You scoffed. The game just seemed so juvenile whenever you had seen it play out.

“C’mon, y/n, let’s just play.” You thought for a second and didn’t see what it would hurt. It was just a little game.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Let’s play.”

“Okay, you get the first question.” You didn’t like that. It didn’t give you much time to think of anything even though a lot of things were coming to mind. A lot of inappropriate things you shouldn’t have been thinking about when it came to your best friend.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” That caught you off guard. You were expecting him to pick dare since he was always willing to do something crazy.

“Truth?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Just ask me a question, y/n,” he rolled his eyes. Nothing was coming to mind but your feelings for him and how badly you wanted him. You were feeling so pathetic.

“Who was your first kiss?” That seemed like a safe thing to ask even though you already knew the answer.

“Dana Stewart when I was thirteen.” You hated that you were jealous and wished you had a time machine to go back in time and take Dana’s place. Maybe then, you’d be Eddie’s girlfriend instead of being stuck in the friend zone.

Maybe it was because Dustin was your little brother and Eddie thought it would have been weird to date you because they were so close. Or maybe he just had no interest in you romantically whatsoever. That had to be it. If he was interested, he would have asked you out by now. And then you’d be snuggled up in his arms instead of playing this stupid game.

“My turn,” he smirked and this one seemed sweeter than the other one. “Truth or dare, sweetheart?” He let out a sigh as he leaned back onto the mattress.

“Truth,” you replied, curious as to what he was going to ask. Probably something ridiculous.

“Since we’re on the subject of kissing, how would you feel about kissing…me?” Your eyes widened and your brain short circuited at the words that come out of his mouth. You never thought the day would come, that it would only ever happen in your dreams.

Okay, so maybe Eddie had suggested this whole game just so he could kiss you because he had been too afraid to just go for it and plant one on you just because he wanted to. Your silence made him realize just how much of a line had crossed by even asking.

You shook your head, trying to get the words out of your head. You needed him to repeat himself in order to be sure that you were just imagining things.

“Sorry, what?” You asked and Eddie just chuckled, licking his lips before speaking again.

“I asked how you would feel about kissing me,” he repeated, leaning closer to you, his face only inches from yours. He wanted to kiss you? You never thought you’d see the day. You were sure that was only ever going to do that in your dreams.

“I think I’d pretty into it,” you nodded and Eddie fought a smile that was trying to come out on his face. He slowly leaned forward, pressing his hands to your cheeks, leaning forward even more, his lips ghosting over yours.

“This is okay, right? I’m not making you uncomfortable?” He whispered. You were always Eddie’s number one priority and he’d hate himself if he had ever made you feel uncomfortable or hurt you in any way. He loved you and he wanted to protect you, even if it was from himself.

He pushed some hair behind one of your ears, revealing your many piercings, more memories that you had made together. He had been there for you for every single one and he’d be there for you for many more.

“Not at all. Just kiss me, please.” Your words came out desperate and that made Eddie’s dick harder a little.

“Well, since you said please,” he smirked and finally placed his mouth on yours, his lips slotting between yours. They moved together in sync while your hands rested on his chest. The kiss was soft and sweet and nothing like you had imagined, considering the details he had given you about the girls he hooked up with, but you liked that you were getting that side of him.

Eddie pulled away before you were ready and pressed his forehead to yours, his brown doe eyes pouring into yours. His thumbs stroked your cheeks and a smile kicked up at the corner of his mouth.

“Was that good enough for you?” He asked, even though it was very much not good enough for him. He had just a little taste and was already growing addicted to the feeling of your lips on his.

“I’m not sure, I think I need a bit more.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Eddie’s lips were on yours again, this time rougher. This was what you had imagined; him taking whatever he wanted from you while you were there, pliant to his every touch.

His hands moved from your cheeks down to your waist, trying to pull you closer despite the fact that the both of you were sitting with your legs crossed. You pulled away and uncrossed your legs before climbing into Eddie’s lap, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your lips were on his once again and his tongue swiped along your bottom lip and you opened up just enough to let him slide it inside. It swirled around your own tongue and his hands slowly moved to the bottom of your shirt, wanting to move underneath it, but he was unsure.

“God,” he practically moaned. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“You have?” Your eyes widened at his confession.

“Of course I have,” he licked his lips again. “Been wanting to kiss you since I found that you love Lord of the Rings, doll.” That was over a year ago. He had wanted to kiss you that long and you had no idea? You wondered why he hadn’t just gone for it because you definitely would have let him.

“I guess I should tell you that I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time too.”

“Aww, l/n, do you have a crush on me?” He winked and you just blushed. “Oh my god, that’s so cute.” He laughed and you just covered your face with your hands.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Eddie grabbed onto your wrists and pulled your hands away. “Need to see your pretty face, doll. Sorry, I guess I should have told you that I have a crush on you too.” Your brain short circuited at that. All of your fantasies were actually coming true. The man of your dreams could actually be yours.

“You like me?” Your face lit up and Eddie thought it was the cutest thing.

“So much,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “Like, you have no idea.” Another one.

“Does that mean you…wanna be my boyfriend.” Eddie just let out a laugh at that and you weren’t sure what that meant.

“Y/n, of course I want to be your boyfriend. In fact, I’d be honored.” His hands moved up and down your hips reassuringly.

“So does that mean that I’m your girlfriend?”

“Sure does,” he winked. “If you want to be.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anything else, Eds.” You threw your arms around him with so much force that he fell back onto the mattress, you landing on top of him.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart.” You had straddled him without even thinking and were now very aware of what it looked like you were trying to do.

“Oh, I’m planning on finishing,” you smirked before pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss, catching his top lip between your two. You licked into his mouth, swirling your tongue around his as your hands trailed down his stomach and up his shirt, wanting to touch any inch of skin you could find. It was soft and warm and you loved the way it felt underneath your hands.

“Can I remove this?” You asked, moving your hands back to the bottom of his shirt.

“Please do.” Eddie leaned forward and held his arms up so you could take his shirt off with ease and you let it fall to the floor before reaching for the bottom of the hoodie, but hesitated once you realized that Eddie was going to see your body.

The confidence that you had just a few seconds ago immediately disappeared when you thought about the fact that you weren’t skinny. Sure, Eddie knew that you were fat, but it was going to be very different seeing you naked.

You weren’t the usual kind of girl he slept with. You had seen the girls that he had left with at parties and most of them definitely didn’t look like you. There were a slim few that did, but that didn’t exactly make you feel better.

You had been with too many people that saw you as toy that they could use then throw away when they were done. The kind of people who would sleep with you just to make themselves seem inclusive. The kind of people who would only claim you in the bedroom but would swear you to secrecy as soon as you left because they were ashamed to let anyone know that they actually slept with a fat girl. And you were done with that bullshit.

But Eddie wasn’t like that, not in the slightest. He was sweet and caring and you knew he would never judge you for what your body looked like. Even if he didn’t like the way you looked, he would have at least been a gentleman about it.

You closed your eyes and slowly removed your hoodie and set it beside you, hearing nothing but a gasp come from Eddie’s lips as he caught sight of your body.

“Fuck,” he said, his voice low and raspy. Your eyes widened then formed into a glare, putting your hands on your hips.

“Excuse me,” you asked in a confused tone. That was definitely not what you were expecting to hear. You weren’t exactly sure what your reaction should have been considering no one had ever responded that way to seeing your body.

“Fuck,” he repeated, more emphasis this time. Eddie leaned up from the bed then looked you up and down, taking his time to admire every inch of you. He knew that you were beautiful, but seeing you with almost no clothing on made you even more so. He loved your curves and the stretch marks that he so desperately wanted to run his fingers over.

“Doll-” he cut himself off, trying to find the right words, everything he was going to say getting jumbled up in his brain. “You’re a knockout.”

“You’re just saying that.” He was just being nice, you were sure of it. That was just who he was. He was a gentleman and everything he was saying was just because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

“No, no. You’re-fuck-you’re amazing.”

“Eddie, you don’t have to lie to me.”

“I may be a lot of things, sweetheart, but a liar isn’t one of them. And I’d be happy to show you just how fucking gorgeous I think you are.” As soon as the words left his mouth, you pushed him down on the bed, pinning him there as you pressed a bruising kiss to his lips.

“Then show me.” You pressed your lips to his again and his hand moved down to the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them down to your thighs. You got them down the rest of the way and they fell to the floor. Eddie’s hands went to your ass as you unbuttoned his pants before moving off of him so he had more ease removing them.

Once he had them off, he reached for a condom and set it aside and removed his underwear then grabbed the condom and removed it from the pocket and rolled it onto his dick.

Eddie pressed his lips to yours, his hands moving to your back as he slowly lowered you to the mattress. His pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin, making his way to your neck. He gave the spot a gentle peck, another one to your jaw.

“Gonna make some pretty sounds for me?” He asked in a whisper, his lips right by your ears.

“Mhm,” you nodded and he pulled back to look at you. He hooked his finger under your chin and forced you to look into his eyes.

“Use your words,” he commanded and you couldn’t help but comply.

“Yes,” you nodded and he moved his lips back to your ear.

“That’s what I like to hear, princess,” he whispered before bringing your earlobe between his teeth, giving it the gentlest bite, causing you to let out a squeal.

He slowly moved himself down on top of you and took your hands in his and pressed a kiss to your lips before slowly trailing some back down your neck and to your shoulders. He found your first stretch mark and ran one of his fingers over it, hating that such a small mark made her feel so bad about yourself. If Eddie was being honest, he loved seeing them on people. It gave them character. He pressed a few kisses to the mark before moving on to her chest, moving his way to your other arm, pressing even more kisses to the other mark.

His lips moved further down your body until he got to her hips. He looked up at you and could see that your eyes were closed.

“Can I move these,” he asked, referring to your underwear and your eyes shot open as you nodded enthusiastically.

“Please do,” you urged and he moved them down just enough to where he could see the stretch marks across your stomach and at your hips. Those ones were more prominent than the others, more red.

“These are pretty,” he ran the fingers of both of his hands along the marks on your stomach, moving them down to your hips in a feather light touch.

“Really?”

“Beautiful,” he corrected, pressing a kiss to each one. He removed your underwear completely and let out a dramatic gasp at how wet you were.

“Sweetheart, is this all for me?”

“Well, it’s certainly not for me.”

“Well, I’m honored,” he grinned. “How about I reward you for being such a good girl today?” You liked that idea a lot and nodded eagerly.

He lined himself up with your pussy and grabbed onto your hips before pounded into you, causing you to let out a moan. “Oh, making your pretty sounds just like you promised, I see.”

“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned as he continued, his movements rough and hard just like you liked it. “Right there, baby, yeah.”

Eddie kept going, pumping his cock in and out of your cunt as you let out the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard and he made some of his own at the pleasure he was experiencing. You liked the way he sounded and knew that his moans would live in your head forever and maybe if everything went well, you’d be able to hear them whenever you wanted.

“Look at you,” he continued to pound into you. “Taking my cock so well, baby girl.” He leaned down and pressed a filthy kiss to your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he did so, the thing roaming around as if he was looking for something as his hand moved to your tit, giving it a squeeze. He then began to massage your nipple with the pad of his thumb, just enough to make it hard, eliciting another moan from you. Once he got what he wanted, he leaned back up and pumped his dick in and out of you, the fastest and hardest he could.

“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned, gripping at his sheets. “Shit, so good.” He took that as an invitation to continue to fuck you the same way he had been, loving how wild it was driving you.

“Got one more in you, sweetheart?” He asked, pausing to see what your response was.

“One more, baby. And make it your best.”

After one more big thrust and your loudest moan yet, Eddie pulled out and got rid of the condom before helping you clean yourself up, being nothing but complimentary to you the entire time, telling you how good you did and how beautiful you were. It made you feel nothing but warm inside, making you feel special for once.

The two of you got under the covers, not even bothering to change into pajamas and Eddie pulling you to him, one hand resting on your back and the other smoothing the hair at the back of your head. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead then pulled back to look at you, your eyes meeting his.

“I love you.” The words came out so suddenly, but he meant every single one of them. He really did love you and had for a long time. He felt it anytime he was around you, his heart filling up with warmth. Now that he had actually said it, he really believed it, finally accepting that that was what he had been feeling for you all along.

You froze at his words, your eyes widening once again. He loved you? Not only did he want to be your boyfriend, but he also loved you? Your dreams really had come true.

And you loved him too. You loved him with every single part of you and had wanted to tell him for so long, but the words always got stuck in your throat. Now that he had said them first, you definitely didn’t think it was hard anymore.

“I love you too, Eds,” you replied and he pulled you into a kiss, this one deeper and sweeter than the others, as if he was pouring all the love he had for into it. Once he pulled away, you buried your face into his neck, letting sleep claim you, wondering what you were going to dream about now since you finally had everything you could have ever wished for right there in your arms.

[blarshwritezz]

Hey, could you write me a Yandere JUICY gay enemies to loves story? Male yandere enemy x male reader. For example, yandere is such a tsundere when it comes to his love for the reader and his way of showing his love comes out as insults, bullying, etc. and the reader just so hates Yandere but is unaware how much his mean insults, that sometimes come out as hella flirty and gay, turn on the Yandere or how they get incredibly flustered when reader corners them. Just make it hella obviously gay and perhaps with a one-sided sexual tension from the yanderes perceptive if you write NSFW that is, thanks! (You can ignore this request if you want, it's okay :))

Heck yeah I can! But be warned, I've never written nsfw, so it may be bad- but I'll try just for you, anon!

Yandere Enemy x Reader

M yan x M reader (slight context: y'all in college)

TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, noncon, slight degration

Another day, another fight between you and Enemy!Yan. The people around you had pretty much become totally numb to your constant bickering.

But to be fair, they wouldn't have to put up with this if he wasn't such a massive prick. You never even did anything! He was the one who kept taunting you.

He shouldn't do that. Nearly every time you retaliate, he ends up fumbling to speak. He's such an idiot, can't take what he dishes out. Absolutely pathetic...

And so here you were. Today's little fight had you pinning him against a wall, trying to keep your voice relatively calm. You caught him taking pictures of you in the damn hall! He was definitely planning to do something with those.

"Don't act so special, I would never ruin my phone with pictures of you!" Lies. He was covering up for the fact that he absolutely was taking pictures of you.

But how could he not? It was your fault you were sexy! You were just infuriating to him. What gave you the right to make him so fucking turned on all the time?!

"Shut up before I make you. Delete those damn pictures." You pressed your body up against him further. You were so close that every breath he took filled his lungs with your scent. You really expected him to not get hard?

Please make him shut up. Please gag him with your cock. Please.

"I don't have pictures of your atrocious face. How thick is your damn skull?" Of course he didn't have pics of your face! Mostly- not from last night at least. He was more focused on your ass other things.

You grabbed his jaw, making him use every fiber of his being to not moan. You gave him a warning, making sure he knew bad things awaited him if you saw some dumbass pictures of you around campus. Oh to know what punishment you would give him...

"You want them gone so damn bad? Delete them yourself!" He wormed his way out from between you and the wall, running off with his phone held above his head.

And of course, you chased after him.

He ran, all the way to his dorm. He threw his phone on his bed, and of course, you went after it. That gave him the perfect chance to lock the door.

You found his phone already unlocked, and when you opened it...

"How do you have all these pictures of m-" He clamped his hand over your mouth before you could finish asking about the photos seemingly taken when you swore you were completely alone in your dorm.

"You're such a fucking tease, you know that?" His other hand slowly slid down your torso, working its way back up from under your shirt. "Always threatening me in ways you know will get me all hot and bothered, then not helping me out. How can you be so mean?"

He pushed you down further on the bed, starting to slowly grind against your thigh. His hand that was under your shirt, gliding over your chest, lowered further and further. All the way to your cock, grasping it through your pants.

You bit his hand as hard as you could, hoping it might help, but the action only elicited a pleasures whimper from him.

"Keep doing that, and make sure to lick it too. You'll need it for what I'm planning."

You squirmed as he lowered your pants and underwear in one swift motion, letting your cock spring free. Embarrassingly enough, you were already hard from all this.

"It's even better up close..."

He could help but give you a hand job. Slow and steady, savoring every second of this. He ran his fingers across each and every vein, keeping his thumb over your tip to stop you from cumming too soon.

Every now and then he'd surprise you; tightening his grip, increasing his speed, stopping for a brief moment just to get right back at it. He was turning you into a whimpering, pathetic mess.

"Fuck, you're so pathetic..." He let go of your mouth in order to hold your thighs apart slightly.

He moved his head between them, taking a nice long lick up your shaft before engulfing you with his mouth. He bobbed his head up and down, swirling his tongue around your tip and making you moan.

"Sto- ngh!~ Fuck..."

He chuckled at your attempt to tell him to stop, the sound vibrating around your dick.

You couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed his hair tightly, forcing yourself all the way down his throat as you came.

He eagerly swallowed your load, choking on it before releasing you from his mouth with a wet pop.

"Fuck, you taste damn good..." He groaned, wiping a few drops of your cum from his chin.

He mixed it with his own spit in his hand, using it to lube up his aching member before flipping you on your stomach and thrusting into you suddenly.

He could've cum right then and there just from feeling your tight asshole squeezing around him, but he held back. Well, not enough to keep himself from pounding into you, regardless of how ready you were or how much you wanted it.

His pace was brutal, every thrust seeming harder and harder. The only way he was able to keep (somewhat) silent was by trailing hickeys down your neck and shoulders, holding your head up by your hair.

"Such a good boy...you my bitch now?" Through grunts and moans he whispered in your ear. "This is what you get for being a damn tease. Fuck...yeah, you're my fucking bitch now. My little bitch boy..."

He started jerking you off again as he rearranged your guts, driving you closer to another climax.

"Now be a good whore and cum for me."

Yet again, as if your body just naturally wanted to do what he said, you bust a nut. And with a few more deep thrusts, so did he, painting your insides white.

He didn't pull out of you for a good few minutes, just laying there and holding you, until finally he whispered: "You didn't think I was done, did you?~"

I think this is the longest one I've done so far! I hope it was satisfactory!

[anashins]

Hiii maybe you can write smth about a date that goes wrong with Jaehyun? You’ve been dating for a little more than a year and he accidentally takes you to a butterfly garden thinking you’re gonna love it cos you two often go hiking together but he doesn’t know you’re terrified of butterflies and moths.

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: fluff, romance

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Jaehyun always makes sure to take you on special dates. The one he planned for your first anniversary will turn out to be the most memorable though - for all the wrong reasons.

A/N: Thank you for requesting, I hope you like it! :)

“Where will you take me?”

“It’s a surprise.” Jaehyun took you by your hand. “Come!”

When a week ago, he had asked you to dress up cutely and be ready by 11am for celebrating your first anniversary together, you had already wondered what he was planning for your special day. 

Out of all common date ideas, you had possibly run through all of them already since it was very important for your boyfriend to take you out to do something extraordinarily nice at least once a week.

From visiting different cinemas to watch a movie you had been anticipating for the longest time, to going hiking together at various places as a hobby you both shared, to the last date being a cooking course where you learned a dish from another country together - Jaehyun was always very creative and would make sure you had a once in a lifetime experience.

So for your first year anniversary, you didn’t expect anything less.

Though, truth to be told, you would also be content with just staying at home, cuddling on the couch and eating delivery pizza every now and then. But whenever you saw your boyfriend already planning a date and looking forward to seeing your happy face, you couldn’t break this truth down to him anymore. You didn’t want to spoil all of his excitement - just like today.

A few metro stations later that still required five minutes of walking, you arrived at your destination.

“We’re here!” Jaehyun exclaimed proudly, having exceeded himself once again.

There was a glass dome stretching out in front of your vision and you could blurrily recognize different trees and plants inside the apparent greenhouse. Nice, you thought, you were going to a botanical garden! You had never been to one and hadn’t visited a country in which a different kind of landscape grew.

But your anticipation was instantly crushed as Jaehyun added,

“It’s a butterfly garden!”

Oh dear god, you silently thought to yourself, this can’t be real.

There were many, many things Jaehyun knew about you after more than a year of dating. But the fact that you were scared of butterflies wasn’t one of them. You had always thought this was kind of ridiculous and childish. After all, butterflies were perceived as something beautiful and nice to look at - not as monsters from hell that you needed to run away from.

But that was how you indeed viewed butterflies. You hated worms and spiders, just anything that didn’t have legs or too many legs, and your boyfriend knew about this, but butterflies were never in anyone’s book’s when you talked about phobias.

Looking at these apparent beautiful creatures, did it fall off everyone’s mind that they had once been caterpillars too? No matter how bright and colorful they were, you could never get past this fact, and that was what made you still scared of them. 

“Oh…” It then dawned on Jaehyun. “You hate it.”

“What?” you feigned surprise. You just couldn’t bear looking at his disappointed face after having put so much effort into coming up with such a unique idea. “I love it! Let’s go!”

Flying worms everywhere in a glass prison cell - that was how you saw the entire setup once you stepped foot into the glass dome. 

Your hands were cold and sweaty despite Jaehyun’s warm one holding yours. Other people were playfully trying to catch or touch them, some even stood there with butterflies resting on their shoulders, stretched out arms or even faces. 

You got this, you were trying to convince yourself. As long as you didn’t move or stayed where there were as few butterflies as possible. Or if you could even noticeably wield them off when they flew too close to you… you would be fine. There was no reason to run away from these pretty creatures, right?

“Let’s go where the most are!” Jaehyun prompted solemnly, and you were actually relieved that he was too excited to notice the mask on your face dropping the further he led you into the garden.

You then stood there among trees, flowers and other plants, petrified, with hundreds of butterflies swirling around you. And then… one landed on your shoulder. You completely lost it.

“I’m so sorry!” you apologized and dashed to the exit, arms flying into every direction, touching god knows what to wield out of your vision.

You let out a suppressed scream when something landed on your face and thus started protecting your head with your hands instead. It was a whole nightmare for you that didn’t stop even when you were outside again, breathing heavily from the panic that had been sitting in your chest all along.

It didn’t take your boyfriend much longer to follow you to the outside, even though in your perception, you had run at the speed of light. In the end, you might have just looked like an idiot who eventually also ruined the precious date Jaehyun had carefully planned for you to enjoy and not flee from.

“Are you okay? What happened back there?” The way he checked up on you and sounded so concerned like something might have truly happened to you, let your bad conscience kick in. “Did something bite you? Should we go to the hospital?”

You suddenly felt so ridiculous.

“No, nothing happened. It’s just…” You inhaled deeply. There was no room to conceal or lie anymore. “I’m scared.”

He was confused. Fair enough. “...of what? There were only plants and butterflies, no?”

“Exactly,” you reluctantly admitted. “...the butterflies.”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t understand…”

“I’m afraid of the butterflies!” you finally blurted. “They scare me!”

Jaehyun frowned for a moment, but then his features softened almost instantly. “That’s fine.”

“So…” Your brows skeptically drew together. “You’re not going to say anything about it?”

He tilted his head in confusion. “What am I supposed to say about it?”

“Like… how it’s weird and childish and they won’t attack me anyway as they’re only little insects. How can I, as an adult, be scared of something so small and pretty?”

Your boyfriend stretched out his hand and placed it on your cheek. He looked at you with a warm gaze. “I would never judge you for your fears. You don’t need to justify your feelings to me. Even if you’re scared of cats, without question, I would swoop you up from the ground when we see one and carry you away so that it won’t even approach you.”

How did you ever deserve someone like him? You shifted your head and kissed the back of his hand that made him a bit shy as his cheeks turned slightly pink.

“Thank you.”

“But…” Jaehyun let out a long sigh now, suddenly looking really troubled. “I now have to look for an alternative to celebrate our first anniversary. What could that be? Maybe we can postpone it until next week…”

He had planned so hard and thoroughly for today, he deserved to rest and be treated well too. So you took the burden of deciding off of his shoulders by suggesting, “How about we go to your place, order pizza and watch a movie?”

“... and that’s all?”

“And that’s all. Would you mind doing only that?” you questioned carefully. “I mean… you always plan all these extraordinary dates and my alternative suggestion is probably the most boring one that wouldn’t even cross your mind, but truth to be told… Sometimes, I just like to do that.”

“You do?”

You nodded and chuckled as you said, “I wouldn’t mind only rotting away the entire day as long as it’s with you.”

Your boyfriend didn’t need to speak it out, but you visibly perceived how more relaxed he got once you had told him about your true feelings. A special date once in a while was very nice too, but you didn’t always need extraordinary places, flowers, menus and… butterflies. He could take you to the hardware shop to run errands and you would have fun all the same.

As long as you got to do it with him.

Jaehyun smiled and took your hand into his. “Then let’s do that today. Ordering pizza, watching a movie and rotting away for the rest of the day. Without butterflies.”

He didn’t judge you, but he certainly would make funny comments every now and then.

You stretched out your tongue and laughed.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

hi aubrie ^^

hope you're doing good today. as per my mistake in saturday I'm just feeling something hungry for crumbs about Jeff and little habits he does that are unique to him or a day to day with him as a s/o please.

i apologize again for sending the request on saturday. I hope you have a good morning and THANKS A LOT :))

att. number one aubrie fan

I'm glad you got it back in, and I hope you enjoy :) I decided to sort of combine your ideas.

Also to be fair, since I did this specifically for him and his s/o, if you just wanted to send in a question asking about a few habits of just his I'd be fine not considering that a request since it's just about him and not involving a s/o :p I think I've accepted questions for habits the creeps do and not counted them as requests

Living day-to-day with Jeff is probably more normal than one might expect. He tends to try and take things easy with you when he's spending time alone with you because the rest of his life tends to be a bit hectic and chaotic, so you're his nice, wonderful slice of domestic bliss that he can't help but constantly crave. He's developed a few habits with you over time in your relationship living side by side like this with you, some of them so subconscious he won't realize he has them unless you point them out to him directly, and some of which you can definitely tease him for.

One of those said habits is that every single time he has a rough or tiring day and he's on his way home to you he always texts you, "Snuggles? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻" every single time without fail. It doesn't matter what caused him to send it, it's just his codeword for saying he had a bad day and he wants you to cuddle the fuck out of him when he gets home because he's sad and you always make him feel better. If you're both at home and he's feeling a little sad, rather than texting you, he'll wait for you to walk into the room and pout at you with his arms stretched toward you while making grabby hands to get you to snuggle him. Jeff is handsy in general, and so one of his other habits, this one subconscious, is that if you're next to him he's going to fidget with you in some way. If you're sitting next to him, he's gonna be squeezing your thighs or wrapping his arm around you. If you're walking side by side, that arm is back around you or he's holding your hand and squeezing it in random patterns. If he's sitting next to you and bored he tends to pull your hand into his lap and play with it with both of his, rotating your hand around and playing with your fingers, just absentmindedly fidgeting with it, which is quite amusing to watch. The other creeps have also started teasing him for that one, as they always say they know when Jeff wants to leave and is done socializing because he's playing with your hand.

As I've said before, he makes it a habit to make you breakfast as often as he can, and he makes the best fucken pancakes. Another thing he does is that if he's starting to space out if he's standing behind you he'll spread out his legs and sort of bounce back and forth and start poking your back in random places while he does so. When he's spending time with you if the two of you see something even remotely cute he always points at it and very quickly says "That's you!" and if you try to counter him and say it's him instead he'll have a mini sassy argument with you over how it's obviously you, going back and forth with you. Also, absolutely randomly tickles you to try and catch you off guard, although he stops when you ask him to. He also encourages you to randomly tickle him as well to see if you can catch him off guard. When you're going to sleep together sometimes I think he likes to burrito you in the blankets, wrapping you up really tightly, and he'll just pull you between his legs so you're laying on his chest and he'll hold you and nuzzle into the top of your head or your neck and call you his little burrito or his little worm. He's also made it a habit whenever you're both going to bed to every night watch an episode or two of something with you so the two of you can watch new things together and just settle down together. He enjoys doing domestic things like that with you the most because it gives him some sort of semblance of normalcy amidst his very non-normal life, and that's one of the reasons he's so grateful to have you because you do that for him. He loves you so, so incredibly much, and he's so thankful to have you with him.

[fan-fantasies]

Jealousy and Dreams

A/N: this is definitely a bit out of my comfort zone and not what I usually write, but I’m in love with this woman! This will be the first part in probably a two part mini-series. Also on a side note, tomorrow is the last day at my job before I start a new one next week! Breezy and I both are starting new adventures and I couldn’t be more excited for us.

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Warnings: we’re gonna pretend Buddy doesn’t exist, swearing, mentions of a wet dream

Rhea tossed and turned in the uncomfortable hotel bed. No matter how hard she tried, sleep couldn’t find her. You were lucky, however, passing out as soon as your head hit the pillow in the bed next to hers. She sighed, staring at your sleeping form.

This wasn’t the first time you had shared a room, far from it. You had grown close with Rhea and the rest of judgement day over the last couple months. You were a new ring announcer and backstage interviewer, and while you were intimidated by them at first, you came to learn just how kind they all were.

Rhea always offered to room with you and you thought it was sweet; and Rhea thought you were sweet- and funny and smart and probably the most gorgeous girl she’s ever seen. But she’d never tell you that- you saw her as a friend and nothing more.

So with that, Rhea began to drift off to sleep with thoughts of you filling her head- until she heard what sounded like a moan falling from your lips. At first, she thought you were hurt, but with each passing moment it sounded more like pleasure than pain.

Her body went rigid, fighting the urge to climb into your bed and calm you. She didn’t want to wake you and risk the embarrassment you might feel so she laid there and listened to the sweet sounds fill the air. You began to rustle around slightly, your whimpers increasing. Rhea was in near physical pain; on one side she had been dreaming of hearing those noises, just in a very different context, and on the other side she felt like a perv for listening. How hadn’t you woken yourself up?!

A few more moments of torture passed before she heard you let out a huff before stilling. She figured your dream hadn’t been enough for you so maybe your brain went in a different direction.

Rhea laid there and stared at the ceiling, now feeling frustrated herself. Sleep would now be impossible.

Morning rolled around and Rhea slept horribly. You seemed to wake up rather cranky but Rhea didn’t mention it.

The guys from JD came by soon after you had woken up with coffee and breakfast.

“You guys are lookin rough,” Finn commented.

“Gee thanks,” you chuckled dryly.

“Slept like shit,” Rhea added.

“Well drink some coffee and perk up, we gotta talk strategy,” Dom said.

You listened to them as they discussed tonight’s show, glancing at Rhea every so often only to find her already looking at you. You could feel the heat rush to your face, and core, every time you made eye contact. You’d never tell her, but your wet dream was about her. You were well aware she only thought of you as a friend so why open that can of worms.

Dom’s phone ringing broke your train of thought.

“It’s my girl, I’ll be right back,” he said with a boyish smile on his face.

“Aww how cute,” Finn teased him. You let out a sigh subconsciously making everyone turn to look at you. Your eyes widened.

“Jealous?” Rhea asked sarcastically.

“It would just be nice to have something like that,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I mean…you could. How bout you come back to my room after the show later and we can talk about it,” Damian smirked. Rhea shot daggers at him but he just shrugged at her. She knew he had a little crush on you, she just never expected he’d act on it. Selfishly, she hoped you didn’t return his feelings.

“Or! She could come back here with me; we could cuddle and watch a movie,” Rhea offered.

“That does sound nice,” you agreed. Damian scoffed and shot Rhea a disapproving glare.

“It’s a plan then, babe,” Rhea winked. The two of you were no stranger to flirting, but after your dream, her words held more weight.

Dom came back in and they finished discussing the upcoming show. Hair and makeup was shortly after the meeting so you departed with your friends and tried to focus on work.

You loved your job, and you were good at it. You enjoyed everyone in the company and they made it feel like home for you. Being on camera took some getting used to but the WWE universe quickly warmed up to you.

Judgement Day was out first, Finn and Dom having a tag match against Sami and Kevin. Rhea and Damian stayed ringside, heckling the champions and cheering on their boys. Damian ended up on your side of the ring and blew you a kiss. You put on an animated surprised act, deep down knowing he was just joking around. He shot you a wink and Rhea noticed.

She sauntered over to you with her cocky ringside persona and kneeled down next to you. The cameras were on you instead of the guys.

“Enjoying the match, gorgeous?” She asked. You simply nodded, your nerves eating away at you from the attention of the gorgeous woman.

“Good,” she said before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. Your stunned look wasn’t for show, you truly were surprised she did that. Your mind was too busy reeling to notice Rhea smirk at Damian.

Sami was eventually thrown from the ring, landing near your feet. Rhea ran over and picked him up, tossing him back toward the ring.

“Get away from her!” She yelled. “I’ve got you, babe.”

“My savior,” you chuckled.

The match eventually ended with some others coming out to help keep Judgement Day at bay while Sami and Kevin secured the win. JD hobbled back up the ramp, looking as angry as ever, but you couldn’t help the smile on your face that was there ever since Rhea had kissed you.

The show continued as normal and you ended up backstage to do an interview. It was with Sonya Deville, who you were friendly with. Rhea was actually supposed to interrupt and challenge Sonya to a match.

Before the cameras came on, you were chatting and laughing with Sonya- not about anything in particular but it caught Rhea’s attention.

The camera’s start rolling as you put on your professional persona but still kept it friendly.

“Sonya, how are you feeling tonight?” You asked.

“Better now that you’re here,” she joked. “I’m feeling good, I feel ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Ready for me? I don’t think so,” Rhea said, coming into frame. “I don’t think you could handle me.”

“Handle you? I could destroy you. Isn’t that right?” She said, looking to you. You did your best “deer caught in headlights” look as you stood between them.

“Yeah, okay. Prove it- you and me- match, tonight.” Rhea snapped.

“You’re on! Just make sure you’re ringside,” Sonya said, playing with a piece of your hair.

“Hands off!” Rhea said, off-script. She threw her arm around your shoulder and pulled you off camera, leaving Sonya looking frustrated.

The camera’s cut and you let out a deep breath.

“Nice improv,” you complimented.

“Thanks,” she said, flashing you an award winning smile that made your heart stop.

“So I guess I’ll see you out there?”

“Sure will, gorgeous. Don’t forget our movie night later.”

“We room together; I don’t think I could forget if I tried,” you laughed.

You went back to the ring so you could announce the women’s match. It wasn’t a title match, but a contender’s one. Sonya was a great wrestler, but she was chopped liver compared to Rhea.

Rhea saw her take one look in your direction and promptly kicked her ass. One riptide later and any hope Sonya had of a title match was squashed.

You went into the ring and grabbed Rhea’s hand, throwing it in the air as you declared her winner.

“See ya later, sweetheart,” she said as she exited the ring.

The show finished and you made your way to the locker rooms so you could change and take off your makeup. You worked quickly, hoping to get back to the hotel as quick as possible.

“I’m sorry if I fall asleep during the movie, I’m beat,” you said as you and Rhea went back to your room.

“No worries, maybe cuddling will help me sleep better tonight,” she chuckled. You hid your face, knowing you’d give away your nervousness at the thought of being pressed against her.

“I’m gonna change into my pjs and brush my teeth,” you said, heading into the bathroom. You changed and before you could get your toothbrush ready, you heard a knock at the door.

“Yeah?” Rhea opened it and came in.

“I have an idea,” she said, holding up her phone. “Just go about your business.”

“Okay?”

You started to brush your teeth, watching her curiously in the mirror. She placed her hand on your hip and took a picture, quickly posting it to her Instagram story captioned “the match isn’t the only thing I won tonight.” tagging both you and Sonya. You couldn’t help but feel electricity where her hand was sitting on your side.

“You couldn’t even have taken one where I look cute?” You said, wiping your mouth.

Rhea looked down at you with an amused look as you pouted.

“Fine, stay like that, it’s cute.”

She stuck her tongue out at you and quickly snapped another one, posting it with “she insisted on a ‘cute’ one 🙄”

“Happy?” She asked.

“Thrilled,” you chuckled. You went to sit in bed while she got changed and did her nightly routine. You scrolled through the movies for a few minutes before laying back and closing your eyes.

“You really aren’t gonna make it through a movie,” she laughed, emerging from the bathroom. She joined you in bed and cuddled close to you.

“I’m just so tired. It feels like I barely slept last night- like I was restless or something,” you sighed. You felt her body stiffen a bit at your words.

“Yeah, I, uh, didn’t sleep well either,” she mumbled. “Better luck tonight then.”

“Hm I hope so.”

Rhea’s mind began to wander. What if you had another dream like you did last night while she was next to you? She felt wrong for even thinking about it but she couldn’t help it.

“Are you okay?” You asked, turning to look at her. She looked down at you and her breath caught in her throat.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about sleep?”

“We can just go to sleep if you want, we don’t have to watch a movie,” you said, turning to grab the remote. She quickly stopped you, tugging you back toward her.

“No! A movie still sounds great,” she rushed out. The two of your stared at each other for a moment and just when you thought she was going to lean in, a knock came from the door.

“Expecting someone?” You asked, getting up to answer it. She just shrugged before you looked through the peephole.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, opening the door.

“I thought it was movie night?” Damian asked, feigning innocence.

“I don’t think you were invited,” Rhea told him sternly.

“Rude. I’m totally down for a movie and cuddles,” he said. He plopped onto the bed next to Rhea and she shoved him aside.

“That’s her spot.”

“Well now it’s mine.”

“It’s literally her bed!”

“So why don’t you go get in your own?”

“I was here first.”

“Guys! I’ll just sit over here, it’s fine,” you said, plopping down onto Rhea’s bed.

“Say cheese!” Damian said, holding up his phone so he could get all three of you. You covered your face and Rhea looked pissed.

“Three’s company!” -he posted on his story. Rhea reposted it with “more like three’s a crowd 😒”

While scrolling on her phone real quick she saw the picture of the two of you in the bathroom had been reposted by a fan page. The caption read “I ship it” but that’s not what caught her attention; in the comments you wrote, “so do I!” in reply.

Rhea looked over at you and smiled, which you easily returned. Damian chose a movie to put on and Rhea got up and joined you in her bed.

He shot her a look that said “really?” to which she just shrugged. Surprisingly, Damian was the first to fall asleep, but you were quick to follow. Rhea pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before dozing off to sleep herself, hoping dreams of you would soon find her.

—————

Part two out now 🖤

[misc-obeyme]

Loving shroom to terrorize you a bit Can I request a drabble of Barbatos taking care of MC who was turned into a rat Please please and thank you ♥ -🍄

Terrorize me? More like terrorize Barb 😭

Okay, here's a drabble of Barb taking care of rat!MC featuring Solomon~

It was hard to say how it happened. One minute, you were sitting there in front of him as yourself and the next you had become… a you know what.

Barbatos wasn't sure how to react at first. He stared at your beady little eyes, glossy fur, and worm-like tail in shock.

He knew it was you. It had been you in your natural state moments ago. But now…

Something in Barbatos shifted. Yes, you were now a rat. But it was still you.

You looked up at him from the chair beside the table where you had both been having tea. You hadn't moved, as though uncertain about what to do yourself.

What had caused this? He had to figure it out and return you to normal.

Barbatos looked carefully at the table, wondering if something had gone wrong with the tea. And that was when he spotted them. There was a plate of muffins on the table that he had not made. They looked normal enough.

Barbatos picked one up and instantly felt the magic tingling through his fingers. He sighed.

Shaking his head, Barbatos put the muffin back down. He looked at you carefully, still waiting there on the seat.

"Forgive me, MC," he said. "I need to transport you, but I cannot bring myself to touch you in this form. Will you consent to being carried in a box?"

You blinked at him and he hoped you still understood what he was saying. Relief flooded through him when you nodded your little head.

"I am most grateful," he said. "Please wait here. I will return shortly."

Barbatos found a very nice box. If you had to be in one, it might as well be fitting for you. It was a little velvet lined jewelry box with a hinged lid. He would keep it open so you could breathe.

Barbatos brought it over to your chair and placed it low so you could climb in. He tried to suppress a shudder as you did so, but didn't quite manage it.

Holding your box carefully in both hands, Barbatos left the castle.

He didn't have far to go, but the entire time his fingers were itching. He tried not to think about the rat he was carrying. It was you, he told himself. That was not just a rat. It was you.

When Barbatos reached Purgatory Hall, he did not bother to knock. He simply entered.

Simeon and Raphael looked up curiously when he did.

"Barbatos?" Simeon asked.

Luke's head poked out from the kitchen. "What? Barbatos is here?"

Barbatos did not respond. He was too focused on his task. Too focused on getting you back to the way you were supposed to be.

Barbatos flung open the door to Solomon's room and looked around.

The sorcerer in question was sitting on a sofa, reading an ancient looking spell book. He looked up. "Barbatos, I wasn't expecting you!"

Barbatos smiled.

Solomon visibly shuddered at this and put his book aside, standing. "What's wrong?"

Barbatos handed the box to Solomon, who took it and looked down at you.

"That is MC," Barbatos said. "The muffins you left at the castle somehow made their way onto the table for tea and this is the result. Fix it."

Solomon made quick work of finding a spell to return you to normal. He didn't want to find out what would happen if he failed.

Solomon lifted you out of the box before using the spell to restore you to your normal form.

The moment he did, you found yourself in Barbatos's arms. "MC," he said into your hair. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," you said, laughing a little and melting into his embrace. "It really wasn't so bad."

"Perhaps not for you," Barbatos said softly while giving Solomon another terrifying smile.

"Thank you for taking care of me," you said. "I know that was hard for you."

Barbatos looked at you and his smile became genuine. "I am simply happy to see you returned to your usual self. If you are not overly stressed from your ordeal, would you like to return to the castle with me?"

"I would love to," you said.

When you were back at the castle with Barbatos, he felt both more relaxed and more protective of you. He sat closer to you, kept an eye on what you were doing at all times. He gave the plate of muffins to Little D No 2 who disposed of them who knows where.

Although Barbatos had a deep dislike of rats, his love for you was stronger. He would not allow you to remain as such a vile creature for long. He would have gone quite far to bring you back. The three worlds were quite lucky that it was only the work of Solomon's unusual cooking.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[ryuichirou]

Replies

We just got back from an oceanarium where we spent 1.5 hours trying to find moray eels and then half an hour hanging out in front of their tank, so I’m pretty tired and won’t write a lot of replies today… sorry! At least I can show you these doofuses that I drew as we were watching them lol They are so delightfully dorky.

They had a giant octopus there too, but it didn’t want to come out and say hi, so the only thing that we saw was a small part of its tentacle. Azul being misanthropic once again…

Anyways, replies! Related to my Ortho/Idia drawing from yesterday.

characharing asked:

THAT ART WITH BIG ORTHO AND SMOL IDIA, I'M RABID, THANK YOU, I DIDN'T EXPECT TO EAT GOOD TODAY

YOU’RE WELCOME, PLEASE ENJOY!!! I am so happy you liked this one!!

eh-nonnie-mouse asked:

Big Ortho is Big cute. Give Onii-san lots of kisses he deserves them!!!

So I have my notifications turned on for you and when I did a preview I saw Big Ortho and a fuzzy string of blue coming out his nose 😂. I was very confused for half a second. Also Idia's hair looks like one of those felt slinky worm things that my cats used to play with (before they decided eating the long colorful this was a good idea and had that toy quickly revoked) and I was thinking Idia asking Ortho "would you love me if I was a worm?" And it being a fiery furry worm in his hand.

He’s about to kiss him once for every day of their separation! Niichan is about to get a loooot of kisses!

Oh my god, he would absolutely still love Idia if he was a worm… Isn’t Idia already kind of a worm? In a way.  A little bit. Philosophically.

I think your cat would love to play with his hair LOL I also hope it’s feeling okay after such sudden dietary changes!

[bryngmemoney]

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: death joke, worms (maybe?)

lots of Writing between Messages!!

🪡Chapter Twenty-seven: Fixing him

“Megumi,”

“hm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you didn’t notice it , but he tightened his grip on the wheel, his other hand that was by his side he used to pinch the fabric of his pants.

“You just seem quiet, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, but you never told me where we were going.”

“Oh right!” to be honest you had completely forgotten you hadn’t told him, and you did promise you’d say where the morning of. “It’s a little book cafe! My friend recommended it to me, I thought it seemed fitting.”

“So, you’ve been here before with them?” he questioned. “Nope, we can try it out together.” He smiled a little, and you did notice that, happy to at least get a little more emotion out of him.

“Hi! Welcome in,” A girl with a short brown bob looked up to you and Megumi walking in, adjusting herself at the front of the counter next to a bakery display waiting for you to approach.

“Hi,” you greeted back.

“Do you two need help with anything?”

“Not looking for anything particular, thank you though,” you answered, turning to look at Megumi only to see him already looking around the place, specifically staring off towards a shelf of books.

“Ok, well let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded as the girl went back to her previous task. There were only a couple of other people inside the place, probably less than ten. It was larger than you expected it to be from the outside exterior, but still very homey. You had just begun to take a few steps in, only for Megumi to grab your hand and lead the way.

“Look,” he said once stopping in front of a shelf, picking a book out and handing it to you. “One of my favorites.” You were a little taken aback, but just smiled looking at it, front and back, trying to figure out what it was. “How is your eyesight that good you saw this from the entrance?”

“Can you do that again?” You looked up, only to see him pull out a smaller camera from his jacket’s pocket. Smaller than the one you had seen him with before. How did you not notice he was carrying that?

“Uhm, okay,” and you repeated your action, feeling slightly strange, but at least he seemed more alive now.

“Thank you.” His smile at that moment was contagious, seeming genuinely happy.

“Was that just for you or for your project?” you asked, mirroring his expression.

“Do you want your hint for the day?”

“Yes please.” He leaned his camera towards you, showing you the four photos he took, “They are for the project,” he informed.

“What’s wrong with your loaf?”

“What?” Megumi looked up from his page, eyes wide full of confusion.

“The pastry you ordered, you took two bites and haven’t touched it since.” You had been watching Megumi for the past thirty minutes he’s been sitting across from you. Although you both originally started with conversation that had slowly filed down into you guys reading what you had chosen. You thought back to what Nobara had said over text and couldn’t help but think maybe she was right. He’d probably be happy if you had just taken him outside then given him a book.

“Oh,” he looked down next to him, starring at the piece of bread on the small plate, “It’s just.. too sweet.”

“Too sweet?”

He looked back up at you, shrugging before picking up his mug taking a sip of his dark coffee. “I’m not really a fan of sweets.” He placed the cup back down, then went back to reading.

“You’re such an interesting man Megumi.”

“Really?” he questioned looking back up to you.

“You’re interesting to me.” He just looked at you, both of you making eye contact for a few seconds, and he failed to look away on time so you wouldn’t see the pink dusting his face. “Thanks I guess.”

Author’s Note: concrete🎀

um so complications irl, am not able to finish the next chapter today, will post two chapters for tomorrows update promise 😊🤞

hope you guys enjoyed!!

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