#and it made me want to tear something apart with my teeth because of how Blatantly Incorrect that is

[deonn-jaelle]

Make love to me

“When my days look low, pull me in close and don’t let me go”

“When the world is at war, let our love heal us all”

word count: 3,753

warnings‼️ : SMUTTTT (but sweet passionate, loving smut🥰)

pairing : husband aurelien x black female wife reader

summary : your husband has been facing what feels like war in the media and all he wants to do is forget about it, so what better way to help him than to make love.

note: i know i said i was gonna wait till 12 but i couldn’t so, here you go. consider this my christmas gift to you. i hope you love it as much a i loved writhing it. just prepare yourselves for some straight up baby making scenes in this yall. i went a little crazy on the french in this but i put the translations for yall of course!! oh also the song is on repeat the whole time. i had to add that in for timeline purposes :) anyway, enjoy!!!!

The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of Beyoncé’s 1+1 playing from your speaker. You had picked the song intentionally—it was comforting, grounding, and tonight, you felt like you might need it.

Aurélien had texted you an hour ago saying he was on his way home, but there was something clipped about the message, a short tone that wasn’t like him. You knew he’d been struggling lately, battling the weight of expectations that came with playing at the highest level. It didn’t matter how well he performed; there was always someone on the internet with something to say, often cruel, thoughtless words meant to tear him down.

And Aurélien, for all his confidence on the field, had a heart that felt too deeply sometimes.

The sound of his key turning in the lock broke your thoughts. You looked up from your spot on the couch, wrapped in one of his hoodies, your bare legs stretched out over the cushions.

The door opened, and there he was—tall, broad, and beautiful, but carrying an energy that made the air in the room feel heavier. His dark curls were frizzy, his jaw set in a way that told you he’d been grinding his teeth. He stepped inside, dropped his gym bag by the door, and let out a frustrated sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hey, baby” you greeted softly, not wanting to overwhelm him.

His eyes flicked to you, and though they softened for a moment, the tension in his body remained. “Hey.”

“You good?”

“Yeah” he said quickly, but the sharpness in his tone betrayed him. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, his movements rigid.

You got up and followed him, leaning against the counter as you watched him take a long sip. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and for a moment, you were distracted by the sheer perfection of him. But the crease between his brows brought you back.

“What’s wrong?” you asked gently.

He set the bottle down with a little more force than necessary and leaned against the counter opposite you, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s nothing.”

“Aurélien.”

His name on your lips made him pause. He sighed again, dragging a hand down his face before finally meeting your eyes. “It’s just the same shit, you know? Every game, every performance, no matter what I do, people always have something to say. If I have a good match, it’s not good enough. If I make one mistake, I’m suddenly overrated. It’s exhausting.”

You nodded, understanding the weight of what he was saying. “I’m sorry, baby. People can be awful.”

“It’s like they forget I’m human” he continued, his frustration spilling over. “They don’t see the work I put in, the sacrifices I make. They just… they judge.”

You stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to carry all of that alone.”

He looked down at you, his eyes softening again, but this time with something deeper—gratitude, love. “You always know what to say” he murmured.

“Because I see you, Aurélien. The real you. Not the headlines or the tweets or the highlights. Just you.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find an anchor in the storm. And then, in one swift motion, he pulled you into his arms. His embrace was strong, almost desperate, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him just as tightly.

“I don’t deserve you” he whispered into your hair.

“Don’t say that” you said firmly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “You deserve everything good in this world, and I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you of that if I have to.”

His lips quirked up into a small smile, but there was something else in his eyes now—a spark, a flicker of heat that made your pulse quicken.

“Thank you” he said, his voice low.

“For what?” you laughed slightly

“For being you.”

Before you could respond, he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, desperate, as if he needed to lose himself in you to escape the weight of the world.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest and around his neck. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss.

“Baby” you murmured against his lips, your voice breathless.

“Let me forget” he whispered, his hands sliding under the hoodie you wore—his hoodie. His fingers brushed against your bare skin, igniting a fire that spread through your entire body.

“You can take what you need from me” you said, your voice barely audible but full of meaning.

In the bedroom, the atmosphere shifted like a storm breaking into calm—a transformation charged with electricity. The frustration and tension that had clung to him earlier melted away, replaced by something primal, raw: pure love. The air was thick with it, heavy and needy, every breath you took filling your lungs with his presence.

Aurélien stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you as you sat perched on the edge, your legs dangling loosely. His broad shoulders seemed even wider under the soft, warm light of the bedside lamp, casting shadows across the hard planes of his chest and abs. His hoodie—once your cocoon of comfort—lay discarded somewhere on the floor, leaving you exposed in just your simple black underwear.

His eyes were on you, dark and intense, moving over your body as though this was the last time he would have you like this. every curve, every dip, every inch, he adored you. The weight of his gaze sent a coolness down your spine, but it wasn’t discomfort you felt. It was anticipation.

“Je suis tellement amoureuse de toi, ma chérie” (I am so in love with you my darling) he murmured, his voice low and rough, as if the words were being dragged from the deepest part of him.

Your skin warmed under his scrutiny, a blush rising to your cheeks. You resisted the urge to look away, to shy from the intensity in his eyes, and instead met his gaze head-on. “You’re so perfect baby” you said, your voice soft but steady.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, the smallest curve of arrogance and appreciation. “Say it again” he commanded, his tone firm but not unkind, the dominant edge sending a thrill coursing through you.

You swallowed, your heart racing in your chest as your eyes locked with his. “You’re perfect, Aurélien.”

This time, your words were heavier, weighted with conviction and the gravity of the moment. Something shifted in his expression, his smirk softening into something more dangerous—something tender and possessive all at once.

He moved onto the bed with a grace that was almost predatory, his long frame caging you in as he leaned over you. His hands planted on either side of your body, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. His proximity was intoxicating, his scent—woodsy and warm—wrapping around you like a drug.

His lips found your neck, soft at first, a ghost of a kiss as his breath tickled your skin. Then, he pressed his mouth more firmly, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. “I love you so much. My good girl” he whispered, his voice low and warm, like melted chocolate.

The simple words sent a jolt through you, your breath hitching as a shiver rippled down your spine. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and it wasn’t lost on you that he enjoyed your reaction.

Aurélien’s hands moved then, large and warm as they slid over your body, exploring you with a purpose that felt urgent yet somehow slow. His fingers trailed up your thighs, pausing to knead at your hips before gliding along your waist and higher, brushing against the sides of your breasts. He didn’t rush, didn’t hurry; he savored, as though every touch was a declaration, every caress a promise.

When he kissed you again, it was different from the one in the kitchen. This kiss was slower, more thoughtful. His lips moved against yours with a purpose, coaxing, teasing, claiming. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a conversation, an unspoken exchange of everything you felt for each other.

His tongue slid against yours, tasting, exploring, leaving you breathless and wanting more. His hands continued their exploration, every stroke, every press of his palms a reminder of his strength, his control.

“Je suis à toi bébé” (I am yours baby) he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and possessive, sending a thrill straight to your core.

“And I’m all yours” you whispered back, your voice trembling with need and sincerity.

Aurélien pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours. He didn’t need to say anything else; his gaze alone told you everything he felt—that you were his anchor, his sanctuary, the only place he felt whole.

“And it’s me and you, That’s all we’ll have when the world is through” the music played on

Aurelien gazed up at you from between your thighs, his dark eyes smoldering with adoration. The dim lamp lighting flickered across his chiseled features, casting a warm glow on your skin. With a reverent tenderness, he slowly parted your folds, face to face with your dripping wet core.

He exhaled a shuddering breath, your intoxicating scent flooding his senses. He pressed a sweet kiss to your center, a promise of the passion to come. His tongue, ever so lightly, traced the length of you—a featherlight caress that sent tingles cascading through your body.

Aurélien gazed up at you from between your trembling thighs, his dark eyes blazing with a mixture of adoration and raw hunger. The dim, golden light from the bedside lamp danced across his sharp features, highlighting the strength of his jaw and the curve of his lips. His warm, broad hands cradled your thighs, holding you open with a reverence that made your breath hitch.

His gaze never left yours as he leaned in closer, his hot breath ghosting over your most sensitive flesh. Slowly, almost torturously, he parted you with the same care an artist might give their masterpiece, revealing your most delicate parts.

Aurélien exhaled a deep, shuddering breath, the sound laced with pure desire. Your intoxicating taste flooded his senses, drawing a low groan from the back of his throat. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed a soft, chaste kiss to your center—gentle, yet filled with a promise of the unrelenting passion that was ahead.

“Mon amour” he whispered, his voice low and thick with emotion, vibrating against your skin. “You taste so good”

His tongue flicked out to trace the length of you, a touch that sent a roll of hot shivers rippling through your body. Your fingers instinctively gripped the sheets, your chest heaving as he began to explore you with calculated precision.

Aurélien dipped his tongue into your entrance, savoring the tangy essence of you with a low groan of approval. He moved with a slowness that bordered on maddening, his tongue swirling and stroking with unrelenting attention. His lips followed, planting soft, open-mouthed kisses along your vulva, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

The soft rasp of his stubble against your inner thighs only heightened your sensitivity, and the sound of his quiet moans was enough to drive you wild. His hands tightened on your thighs, his thumbs gently brushing against your skin as he held you open, his strong grip grounding you while his mouth sent you spiraling.

“Aurélien” you breathed, your voice trembling as he latched onto your clit, his lips wrapping around the sensitive bud with just the right amount of pressure. He suckled gently, his tongue flicking against you with expert precision.

He groaned deeply, the vibrations of his voice resonating against your most intimate parts, pulling an uncontrollable moan from your lips. The pure, unfiltered pleasure made your head tilt back, your fingers threading through his curls, tugging him impossibly closer.

Aurélien pulled back briefly, his breath hot against your glistening skin. He looked up at you, his dark eyes smoldering with intensity. “Look at me” he murmured, his voice rich and commanding.

You forced your gaze down, locking eyes with him, and the intimacy of the moment hit you like a wave. The connection, the unspoken language between you, was almost too much to bear.

“Je t’adore” (I adore you) he said, his voice soft but resolute, the words spoken like a vow.

His tongue returned to your clit, swirling delicate circles before pressing firmly against that spot that made you arch off the bed. His movements were calculated, measured—he knew your body better than you did, and he wielded that knowledge like a master craftsman.

Arousal coated your thighs, his chin and cheeks, the evidence of your pleasure only spurring him on. His lips and tongue lavished devoted attention to every nerve ending, every inch of you, as if he wanted to worship you until there was nothing left of you but bliss.

He took his time with you, drawing out every moment, every sensation until you were trembling beneath him. His lips and hands worked in tandem, finding every sensitive spot, every place that made you gasp or sigh or moan his name. He was meticulous and relentless, his touch firm yet tender, as though he wanted to ensure that you felt as cherished as he always made you feel.

Aurélien’s hands slid up your thighs, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just enough to ground you. His mouth moved with precision, alternating between soft, teasing strokes and deep licks that had you teetering on the edge of oblivion.

“Oh baby please don’t stop” you gasped again, your voice high and trembling. The sound of your voice desperate for him seemed to ignite something within him, and he doubled down, his tongue curling and stroking inside you in a way that unraveled you completely.

Your climax washed over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking beneath his relentless attention. He stayed with you through every moment, his mouth softening but never leaving you, as if he wanted to pull every last drop of pleasure from your trembling frame.

As you came down from the high, your breaths ragged and your body pliant beneath his hands, Aurélien pressed one last lingering kiss to your center. He rested his forehead against your inner thigh, his breathing heavy, his hands stroking your trembling legs as if to soothe you.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum Yn” he said softly, his voice still thick with emotion. His lips quirked into a small, satisfied smile as he gazed up at you. And in his eyes, you saw nothing but devotion.

“So when the world’s at war, let our love heal us all, help me let down my guard” the speakers sang quietly

Aurélien positioned himself between your trembling thighs, his broad shoulders framing you like a protective wall. His eyes locked onto yours, glossy and blown pupils, and his dark and molten with desire, as he gripped your hips with a reverence that made your heart stutter. Slowly, he pressed forward, his thick length stretching you inch by inch. The sensation was overwhelming—almost too much yet utterly perfect.

When he finally joined with you completely, the world outside the bedroom fizzled out. There was no noise, no criticism, no judgment—just the two of you, your bodies and souls tangled together in a rhythm that felt sacred.

“Mon amour, mon cœur” (My love, My heart) he whispered, his deep, husky voice tinged with a tremble that betrayed just how much this moment meant to him. His words, raw and intimate, wrapped around you like a bear hug as he buried himself until he couldn’t go anymore, the heat of him melding with your own.

For a moment, he stayed perfectly still, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. You felt his chest expand with a deep, shuddering breath, as though he was savoring every second of being fully inside you. “Tu es ma vie, mon seul et unique” (You are my life, my one and only) he murmured, the French rolling off his tongue like a prayer.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper. The way his body fit against yours felt like a key sliding into its lock, perfectly aligned and meant to be. His lips brushed against yours, tender and slow, his kiss carrying all the unspoken emotions that neither of you could fully articulate.

Then he began to move.

His hips rolled in a slow, tantric rhythm, every thrust designed to unravel you. His muscular chest pressed against your breasts, teasing your hardened nipples with the friction of his skin against yours. The room was filled with the intoxicating sound of his deep groans and your soft cries, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

“Bébé” (baby) he groaned, his voice hoarse as he suddenly stilled, his length buried impossibly deep within you. Without warning, he shifted your positions. He sat back on his heels, your legs instinctively resting on his shoulders, your bodies perfectly aligned.

The new position sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and he resumed his slow, deep thrusts, each one hitting a spot inside you that made your vision blur. His strong hands gripped your hips, guiding you as he lifted and lowered you onto his shaft. The controlled power of his movements made your head spin, and your nails raked down his hard biceps in a desperate attempt to hold on.

“Oh Aurélien” you gasped, his name falling from your lips like a plea. Your fingers tangled in his, tugging lightly, and he groaned in response, the sound vibrating through you.

“Regarde-moi” (Look at me) he demanded softly, his voice low and commanding. You opened your eyes, locking onto his, and the intensity in his gaze left you breathless. There was no escape from the intimacy of this moment; he was baring his soul with every thrust, and you felt the weight of his love in every touch.

He moved with purpose, his strong hands gripping your hips as he guided you both to a place that felt infinite. His forehead rested against yours, your breaths mingling as you held each other close.

“Say my name again” he murmured, his voice strained but commanding, and you didn’t hesitate.

“Aurélien” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body arched into him.

“C’est ça, mon amour” (That’s it my love) he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, his movements becoming slower, deeper, more deliberate. His voice was a low, raspy caress, the French rolling off his tongue like a melody.

Both of your moans echoed, your voices trembling with emotion, his every word heavy with sincerity as you clung to him, every part of you surrendering to the moment.

Aurélien’s eyes locked onto yours, his expression softening, though the intensity in his gaze never wavered. “Je te veux, pour toujours” (I want you forever) he murmured, his fingers threading through your hair, holding you as if to ensure you understood.

“I’m here” you whispered softly, your hands cradling his face as your eyes searched his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile before he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. He didn’t need to say anything more. The weight of his love, his devotion, was in every touch, every movement, as he held you close.

“Oh make love to me…” the song continued, on repeat.

And that’s exactly what he did.

Aurélien held you close, his hands never straying far from your body, as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. Because together, you were whole. You were enough.

“You’re everything to me” he whispered, his accent thickening with emotion. His hands slid to cup your face, holding you steady as he captured your lips in a passionate kiss. The rhythm of his hips never faltered, slow and purposeful as he took you apart piece by piece.

He gently took your legs from his shoulders, his body never breaking its connection to yours. Pushing your knees up to your chest, he adjusted the angle, and the first thrust made you cry out, the new depth sending shockwaves through your body.

“Like this, chérie?” (darling) he murmured, his voice sultry and teasing as his hips began to move with more intensity. Each deep stroke ground against your clit, building the pressure inside you until you thought you might shatter.

“Yes” you hissed, your voice trembling with desperation as your nails dug into the muscles of his back. “Harder, Aurélien. Please fuck me harder.”

His lips curved into a dark, knowing smirk as he complied. His pace quickened, his hips slamming against yours with a force that made the bed creak beneath you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

“Mon dieu” (my god) he growled, his voice ragged as sweat beaded on his bronzed chest. His powerful hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he drove into you with unrelenting passion. “I love fucking you” he rasped, his head dropping to kiss along your neck, his teeth biting down hard on his lip.

“Please Aurélien, I’m so close” you whimpered, your body arching off the bed as the tension in your core squeezing tighter and tighter.

He looked down at you, his dark eyes heavy-lidded with lust and love. “Je te ferai jouir bébé, je t'ai eu” (I will make you cum baby, I’ve got you) he promised, his voice rich and velvety as he shifted his angle slightly, driving deeper and grinding harder against that spot inside you that made you see stars.

With a final, powerful thrust, the coil inside you snapped. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, your body trembling and writhing beneath him as he drove you through the peak and beyond. The intensity of your release triggered his own, and with a deep groan, he buried himself completely inside you.

“Ahhh yesss” he breathed, his body shuddering as his release poured into you, warm and overwhelming. He held you close, his strong arms wrapping around you as though he never wanted to let you go.

As the aftershocks faded, Aurélien gently lowered your legs, his hands smoothing over your trembling thighs as he pressed tender kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “Tu es incroyable” (You are incredible) he murmured, his voice soft and full of awe.

You smiled up at him and hummed in adoration, just wanting to enjoy the silence and intimacy of this moment. Your fingers brushing through his damp curls.

His lips found yours once more, soft and lingering, carrying all the tenderness and devotion he had no words for. The kiss wasn’t rushed or hurried—it was steady, a slow melding of souls that seemed to transcend the physical. His hand cradled the side of your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, looking deep into your eyes as if had had fallen in love all over again.

As his lips moved against yours, the rest of the seized to exist. The noise of scrutiny and doubt that haunted his days, the chaos of life outside these walls—all of it melted into insignificance. In this moment, there was only the warmth of your body beneath his, the taste of your lips, and the steady rhythm of your breaths mingling with his.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his dark eyes searching yours with a vulnerability that tugged at your heart. “Je t’aime” (I love you) he murmured softly, the words carrying a gravity that made your chest tighten.

“I love you too” you whispered back, your voice steady but thick with emotion.

Aurélien exhaled a long, contented sigh, his hand sliding down to intertwine with yours. He pressed a gentle kiss to your ring finger before settling beside you, pulling you into the protective embrace of his arms. The sheets tangled around your bodies, warm and soft, as you lay together in the quiet aftermath of your passion.

The steady beat of his heart beneath your ear anchored you, a soothing reminder that whatever storms lay beyond these walls, you’d weather them together. His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns along your back, his touch as intimate and reverent as it had been all night.

Outside, the night stretched on, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains. But in his arms, wrapped in the cocoon of his love, time felt irrelevant. You were safe here, cherished, seen in a way that felt like the purest form of freedom.

As your eyes began to flutter closed, Aurélien’s lips brushed your temple, a final whispered promise slipping from his lips. “Que tes plus beaux rêves se réalisent mon amour” (May your sweetest dreams come true my love)

And with that, you let yourself drift off, the world outside waiting for another day. For now, there was only this—his warmth, his love, and the unshakable bond that held the two of you together.

[nectardaddy]

OH CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN  . . . single dad! meian + f!reader

                              DELETE DELETE DELETE 

✮⋆˙ notes/CWs - suggestive, 17+ to read, language, meian is insanely flirty, formatted differently than my usual so lmk if we like it! I probably won't stick to it but I like it in this instance :), not proofread bc I'm lazy sorry, dedicated to the wonderful, amazing, best friend forever @nekozaki who truly outdid herself for my secret santa gift so I'm here returning the favor!! you're amazing ellie thank you for being such a wonderful person and writer, I hope you enjoy <33

Re: today is awful  From: Meian Shūgo I can make your day 10 times better if you come over tonight ;)

The woman stared down at the email with baited breath, held it so long she thought she might get dizzy. Until finally a strangled breath passed her lips, filled her lungs before she swallowed harshly. Over and over, she read the sentence; over and over until her heart surged to her throat with her cheeks hot. 

He sent that to her work email. 

A cheeky habit the pair had, emailing each other. A nice surprise to see kind, often silly emails, throughout the day - sometimes he sent pictures from practice, but more often than not he sent terrible dad jokes - so she always replied. Normally, she would send an update about her day, and he would always reply with an endearing message back. But today was different, today was spicy; Meian had a fire underneath him and didn't mind the consequences. 

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she swiped away from the email; torn between wanting to smile and wanting to tear him apart for sending something like that. Her fingers were quick to find his contact and hit call, and she decided to draw and quarter him the moment he picked up. 

The man was at practice around this time, and she knew he had slinked himself away just to answer - which only made her more riled. He answered because he knew what the call was about, no doubt.

“You got my email, didn't you?” A coy question that made her stomach drop and twist in knots; the man had the unique affinity of leaving her breathless. “You miss me that much, sweetheart?” His voice was laced with a faux sense of sympathy, a teasing aura muddled behind a true care and compassion for the woman.

“You can't send shit like that through a work email, Meian!” A hushed tone as she put force behind the man's name, which only made a chuckle sound from the other end of the line. “Oh yeah, laugh it up, those emails are screened by the way. Let's not forget I work at a school.” 

“It wasn't even that bad,” he reasoned. “So put the family name away, I could've sent a lot worse.” 

“I bet you could've, jackass,” she rolled her eyes at his brashness. Her eyes flickered up to the closed door of her classroom, then to the clock on the back end of the wall. At least he knew the times when people weren't in her classroom, that was the only redeeming arc of it all. “Not the point though. Use your brain before you send an email like that again. Think to yourself: is this helpful, is this kind, will it get flagged by my girlfriend's work because I don't know how to contain myself?” 

Another chuckle, and she let out a loud groan. “Pretty hot when you use that tone with me,” he chided, she could practically hear him smirking through the line. “You should use it when-” 

“Dear god, don't finish that sentence right now.” She closed her eyes and groaned once more, and the twinge of exhaustion that settled upon her was apparent even over the phone. He frowned once the tone had shifted, although she couldn't see it. 

“Alright, alright, I'm sorry.” Spoken genuinely, with a small breath, before she heard him smile again. “‘Love you.” 

There was a small pause, one she could’ve excused as poor signal, but didn’t as she took a sharp inhale. The pair had just recently shared the intimacy of such words of adoration, pouring their hearts out on a drunken escapade that spilled over into the next day, and the day after that. The freshness of the statement still made her stomach fill with butterflies and her cheeks hot; for once, she was glad he wasn’t around to see just how flustered he made her. 

“I love you, too.”

She heard him hum just before the loud bang of a door swinging open on his end rang through. “I’ve been found,” he chuckled, “I’ll talk to you later, alright?” 

“Have fun at practice, Shū.” Instead of his own voice ringing through; however, another took its place. Farther back from the phone, as if they were in front of the man she wished to speak to, and loud - obnoxious. 

“Holy fuck is that your girlfriend? Let me talk to her!”

The click of the call ending was loud, and she only chuckled when she took the phone from her ear. 

3 new notifications from Shū ❤️🏐  never said I wouldn't text you though [image attachment] you should still come over 😏 I can make you forget all about your bad day

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@yogurtkags @bakery-anon @totallytatum @mollyrolls @standcom 

@jadeoru @hyunteru @kameyyy @nekozaki @sandwhitches

@knightofwands-upright @angelichwv @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @arusio

[aroaceleovaldez]

Every description about Nico (especially the canon ones) describing him as “cold” can personally fight me. Nico is jaded, yes, and often closed-off and sometimes stand-offish and defensive but he is not "cold”. He cares SO SO SO MUCH about EVERYONE. He loves and cares with his entire heart constantly and that is a core part of his character. He doesn’t often make public shows of his affection but he takes care to be kind when it matters and doesn’t hide that he does care (usually, the only exception really being him being in the closet, but even then he only hid his crush specifically and not the fact that Percy is important to him). He fine with hugging his friends in front of a crowd and will sit with strangers at a campfire just so they’re not alone. I mean, heck, he’s an extrovert! We know this! He actively seeks out people and gets lonely very quickly and easily! If he can’t talk to living people he will chat with the dead! That’s how much he thrives on being social!

The only time Nico has ever been actively “cold” was the couple of months between TTC and BoTL when he was actively mourning Bianca. Nico is not “cold.” He loves so much and he does show it, just in his own way.

[bunnygirllover45]

— The shape of love. ﹑◌﹒WARNINGS﹕Kidnapping, implied punishment, ugly jealousy, some descriptions of body harm ( just wounds or bruises, and it doesn't get too graphic), lots, and lots of deranged ramblings, it gets very dark at times. This is narrated from the POV of the Yandere, you can read this as a 'letter' of sorts.

♱ ✧ ⤷ Word count: 997 (felt lazy and I didn't reach 1k lmao.)

There you go again, looking at me with the same eyes as always.

I don’t know how many times I’ve repeated moments like this inside my head since the last time. It's been a while since I've been this close to you.

The trembling of your body lets me know that your excitement is as big as mine, is your body perhaps unable to contain all those bubbling feelings?

I grab your legs, my hands softly pressing against the flesh, feeling it under mine —so soft and delicate, for a moment I thought that maybe if I pushed my fingers inside of it I could spread it like a cloud made of cotton— when I pressed I could fee the shape of your bones underneath just a little, the sensation made my own body tremble.

It’s a shame you’re still shy to my touch, even if it’s something simple like a small caress or a kiss on the cheek you’re always trying to push away from me, I would love if you to cling onto me more when I do it or have you begging silently to do something more. I know you wouldn’t tell me with words, you’re not good with them.

Now that I think about it, I’ve never heard you say my name since I brought you here, no?

I should tell you what it is now so you could say it between sighs and I could engrave the sound on the back of my brain forever — those sweet sounds could captivate me forever.

I wonder if you’d say my name with a kind voice, or you’ll just talk to me with the same indifference and fear that’s so characteristic of you. I do admit that is kind of endearing, wild animals were always more interesting than domesticated ones thanks to their hostility, it makes me want to approach them, stick my hand, and see if they’ll bite me, or would just run away and hide in a corner.

I wouldn’t mind if you bit me, I would love to bite you as well in fact, I would wear that mark proudly and I would make sure you do it as well, we could bite our fingers and pretend the marks are our wedding rings, a testament of our love engraved on our skin.

Hahaha — I’m rambling again, please don’t get nervous, you know I usually get lost in my thoughts when I’m here with you, especially when my hands are idly dragging across your skin  — nails and all — leaving red marks behind.

I’m just tracing small invisible circles on your skin and you’re already getting goosebumps, I think that when I touch you delicately like this is when you fear it the most, right? I’m always keeping the momentum, you’ll never know when I can dig my nails into your skin or grab you and never let go.

I press a simple kiss on the skin of your heel, dragging my lips across the length of your leg, what a celestial feeling, there’s nothing in this world that could compare to this mere sensation. You’re trembling again, that makes me smile.

Sometimes when night falls and there are no more thoughts left to think inside my head my mind begins to wander off the path, usually it doesn’t lead me anywhere in particular, but since some time ago I’ve had this constant thought; there are other  —people— that had touched you like this before?

I would like to think that I’m the only one who had the privilege to enjoy all of you, that no other mark of fingers or teeth that doesn’t have the shape of mine has been on your skin.

Thinking like that makes sleeping easier for me.

I’m thankful that right now you can’t speak to me, because if I made you that question and you responded to me that yes, other people had marked you like I did, I think I would had the impulse to tear apart each part of you that has been tainted by them.

Not because I hate you, on the contrary, I just think I couldn’t live with the idea. That you belonged to someone else even if it was just for a moment, what am I saying? I don’t even like the idea of you belonging to yourself.

But if I were to do that, I think I’d like to go to extremes no other people could; kiss your open wounds or taste your blood, that would be romantic, don’t you think?

I press my face against your thighs while I keep dragging my nails up and down your legs, I sigh again, tilting my head slightly to take a better look at you, I can see myself reflected in your own eyes now, how romantic, just like in the movies you like to watch.

I like the me I see in your eyes, I like the idea that it belongs to you alone, the idea of you keeping each small expression I make just for you, each blink would be like a small photograph you take of me and keep inside your head, aaaalll yours.

My mother used to tell me that love is only true if you can see it reflected in the one you love,

From your red cheeks — was I too rough last night?

Your bruised knees — If you would just learn how to sit properly at the table already, it would make our meals more easy.

Your beautiful hands — You should stop trying to take off your handcuffs.

Your shining eyes — Is that a small tear I see? Maybe I should reach it and lick it, I wouldn’t like to go to waste.

Yes, I think for the first time something she said made sense, now that I took a better look at you, I don’t think there’s any better proof of this —

You’re the truest, most beautiful form of ‘love’.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

a day in the life where everyone tries to win reader over, maybe they heard reader mention something like how they can't stand an annoying relative asking them about a relationship over the holidays, or trying to get her the best gift?

ps i love your writing, i read it like my morning paper

A Day in Life: Christmas, Presents and Revelations

Synopsis: A day in your life full of good Christmas presents, propositions and secrets.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader

Tw: Implied stalking; Calling someone a manwhore; Karens in the family with traditional and conservative ideals and miserable lives; Mentions of past cheating; Mentions of past Bucky Barnes X reader; Is Hal Jordan slowly getting his redemption arc?; Slightly implied horny Reader; English is not my first language.

Word count: 2,2k

Requested? Yup.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

— And it's just so annoying, like, sometimes I literally don't want to show up on these things, but I don't want to leave my mom there alone with my dad’s family. — You huffed. — My auntie’s too concerned about my romantic life, like her husband didn't get other three women pregnant at the same time she got pregnant and only married her because he would have to marry one of the four girls. — You shook your head while your co-worker laughed. — And you know what's worse? I told everyone I had a boyfriend, but Bucky cheated on me, and I didn't tell them that yet, so she's gonna think I lied and mock me like the middle-aged Regina George she is!

Unknown to you, certain people were listening, and silently, each one of them made a decision.

Your last day at work before Christmas, you were getting ready to go home, pack and take the road, when someone knocked on your office door. You looked up, seeing no other than Martian Manhunter at your door, holding a present.

— How can I help? — You hid your gritted teeth behind a polite tone.

— I came here to follow the Earth tradition of Christmas and give my loved one a present. — He stopped in front of you with a soft smile and extended the gift in your direction. You hesitated.

— You didn't have to… — You cautiously took the present from his hand.

— I also have a proposition for you. — And there it comes. — I couldn't help but overhear earlier that you were in need of a partner for a meeting with your family. — You wanted to facepalm. — I could be that person. — You sighed.

— I can't show up with an alien superhero. — You crossed your arms with a pointed look.

— As you know, I'm a shapeshifter. — You watched as he changed his appearance to look like multiple different kind of people, one moment he was a tall blonde man, the next, a black girl with braids, then an asian young guy, and so on, meaning he could look however you wanted him to. — And you can call me by whatever name you choose, even the name I adopted here on Earth… J’onn J’onnes. — He settled for his usual green alien appearance. — You widened your eyes at his confession, thinking “oh, shit”.

— Uhh…

— While you think about it, open my present, darling. — He gently pushed the present in your direction again and you, still wordless, obeyed, while mentally searching for a way out of this.

You cleared your throat and teared the paper. The feeling of destroying the wrapping paper of gifts always made you feel a little embarrassed, as if the beautiful wrapping itself was the present and you were being rude by tearing it apart. It was a silly thought.

As you finished, you found out he gave you a comic book from your favorite hero. It made you excited, but you couldn't show it much.

— Oh wow, thank you… — You coughed. — Can't even imagine how you knew it was my favorite… — You internally rolled your eyes. — Anyway, about your offer- — Another knock interrupted you, and you both looked at the door. Aquaman was there with another present in hand.

He looked suspiciously from you to the other hero and stepped forward, then focused on you.

— Whatever offer he gave you, I give you one better. Take a king to meet your family, darling. — He smirked and offered you his present. You ignored what he said, settled the comic on your desk, and opened his present. It was a necklace with charms related to the beach, like some shells, pears and fishes, all made of your favorite metal. You pursed your lips, not waiting to admit to yourself that it was pretty and you liked it more than you thought you would, just like the last gift.

— Thank you. And about your offer, I can't exactly do that. You can imagine why. — He shrugged.

— Well, you can simply take me as your completely human lighthouse keeper, Arthur. — He smirked and wrapped your shoulders with his left arm. You shuddered, thinking “God, no”. — We’ll even invite them to our beach house, darling. Right on the shore. I also have a boat. Let's impress them. — He grinned proudly, as if he was sure you couldn't deny him.

You shrugged his arm off and before anything came out of your mouth, you remembered about your auntie and her shittalking right now. She always wanted a beach house, but everyone knew your uncle prefered to spoil himself and his side-pieces than her or the kids, and yet, she felt superior to every member of the family who was single because at least she had a husband and she didn't need to work, including you.

Rubbing a beach house, a boat, and a blonde hunk himbo on her face could be nice… Even if you just offered to take only your immediate family there one day and then just pretend you broke up with him later, he and the league would still get the wrong idea.

— Knock knock, oh- What’s everyone doing here? — Flash was there and pursed his lips while looking at the three of you. You groaned internally.

— You can go, Flash, (Y/N) won't choose you. — Aquaman, or Arthur, weaved him off. Flash narrowed his eyes for a second and then turned to you, ignoring him and beaming at you, extending a gift in your direction.

— I bought you something! — You discharged the necklace behind you and took the new gift, it was a bracelet with a lightning symbol in your favorite metal. It was also pretty, you were getting tired of it.

— Thank you, Flash…

— Please, just call me Barry. — He grinned brightly. — Please ignore the stinking ugly dressed fishman and the alien still learning to act like a normal human. You can take the funny and smart forensic chemist to meet your family. — He reached up and took his mask off, you widened your eyes, at seeing his real face. Huh, you didn't think he was blonde.

You stuttered, too shocked.

— Oh God… — You thought knowing their name was worse than their faces, secret identities and all, but something about seeing a real face that was kept hidden all the time felt like a heavier burden. To make matters worse, Green Lantern showed up. — No.

— Just hear me out, please! — Everyone turned to him with annoyed expressions. — I changed, I swear! And I apologized like, a thousand times. — He cleared his throat. By your face, he knew it was the worst thing to say. — Anyway, here’s your gift. — He bit his lip while you took it from his hands and opened it with hostility. They were tickets for the next concert of one of your favorite artists, that made you feel a little bad for the way you treated him, but it didn't change what he did to you in the past.

— I… Thank you. — You were trembling with nerves at this point from all the surprises you were having.

— I heard you needed someone to bring home for the holidays…

— Uhuh.

— And your dad is a big fan of the army, right? — You blinked. It was true, but you never told them that, yet, you weren't surprised they knew that.

Where was he going with it…?

— Please, not you too.

But he took off his ring anyway, and after a moment, he was wearing civilian clothes, along with a military jacket and dogtags.

— Who better than a charming ex-air force member to present to your family? Test pilot now, I can take them flying. Actually, I can take you flying. — He winked. — Call me Hal Jordan, beautiful. — He winked and saluted you. — Also, I fought in the war.

— Dude. Just give up. They're not gonna pick you.

— I will never give up, I'm a green lantern, strong will is kind of my thing. — He looked at you again. — So, darling?

While you were staring blankly at him, someone cleared their throat.

— Be reasonable, you don't have to be humiliated today. — Wonder Woman catwalked into the room confidently. She was holding two bags from a clothes store in her hands. The amazon pushed Hal Jordan aside and stopped in front of you. She looked you up and down and smiled charmingly. — Take me with you, darling. This is for you. — She extended one of the bags to you. You took it and looked inside, then reached in and pulled it out. It was a beautiful outfit, completely on your style, and clearly of good quality. But when she pulled out what was inside the other bag, it took your attention and you looked curiously at the red wine satin dress she was holding up. — And this is what I will be wearing. — She smiled seductively. — Diana Prince, pleasure to meet you.

You couldn't help your jaw from dropping while imagining her wearing that. While some family members might not admire the sensual outfit as much, you definitely would. Secretly. Your ego would too.

Damn it, why couldn't she be more normal and less yandere?

You swallowed, looking away from her and the dress. It was finally too hard to say no, but not for the mature reasons.

At your silence, Diana’s eyebrows rose up and she tilted her head to the side, with a pleased small smile. The other men in the room groaned and started arguing loudly, but she was untouchable in front of you.

Unstoppable force, meet immovable object.

— I think I should just go home, it's getting late… — You rapidly shoved your gifts inside the bag, took your things and squeezed your way between them heroes, not even realizing how trapped you were previously, but just as you got to the door, you hit a brick wall, or Superman, as people usually call him.

You groaned and he looked at you sheepishly.

— I guess after all of that I can't offer you something much better, but I can try… — Superman took a deep breath and before you could blink, he flew away, changed clothes, and came back. One second, Superman was in front of you, the next, just a regular cute guy wearing glasses and a suit. You took a second to recognize him and understand what happened and what that meant.

Damn, who knew glasses were a good disguise.

— I'm Clark, Clark Kent. I grew up on a farm in Kansas and I work as a journalist at the Daily Planet. — He smiled shyly and gave you his gift. — I hope you like it…

You blinked and catatonically looked at the thing he gave you. Differently from the last gifts, it wasn't neatly wrapped and it had a weird shape, but by how it felt in your hands, you guessed what it was.

You expected the sight of a Superman plushie to greet you, but instead, it was a plushie of your favorite fictional superhero. The same hero from the Martian’s comic.

Well, it was cute. You would probably fall for him if you didn't know better. You held back an awed sound that wanted to spill from the back of your throat.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by all the Justice League groaning a collective and loud “GET OUT”, you looked up, confused and curious by what caused all this, surprised by seeing it was just Batman entering the room.

Huh, why did everyone react like that?

He stared at you, then at every single one of them, silently, almost disapproving, or disappointed, but then, he smirked when he looked at you again.

Batman was smirking? You flinched.

— This is for you. — He gave you a big box. It was surprisingly heavy. When you opened it, there was a very expensive and beautiful pair of shoes, something you only dreamed of having and was always on your Pinterest board. Only digital influencers and celebrities wearing it, making you jealous. But that wasn't all. There was also jewelry and a very expensive bottle of wine. You will definitely take it to the holidays to impress your family. Or maybe keep it to a very special occasion. — And there’s more from where it came from. — He reached for his cowl and your breath hitched. Never in your wildest dreams you thought this day would happen.

He took of the cowl, and in front of your was…

Bruce Wayne?!

While everyone deflated, knowing they lost, you just had to hold back your laugh, but a snort still escaped. That took everyone off for a second, including the always stoic hero in front of you, who was clearly bewildered when you couldn't hold back anymore and laughed to his face.

— You think I'm gonna show up to my family with the nacional manwhore? HA! Yeah, that's gonna impress them for the first five minutes, then I will be the dummy who’s gonna be traded for the next top model. — You shook your head, still laughing. Bruce frowned deeper. You slightly feared for your job after you bluntly called him a manwhore.

— I would never do that to you. My affairs are all to deceive the public and keep my job a secret.

— And that might be true, but my family doesn't know that! Or are you gonna tell this to everyone? Funny. Billionaires are so delusional and out of touch… — You shook your head and walked out.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 21 - Needy Fucking]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Seokjin x f. sub!Reader

Genre: married life!AU

Kinks: penetrative vaginal sex, needy fucking, oh lord they are so needy, strength & size kink (he is taller), hair pulling (m.receiving), choking (f.receiving), subby girl tears, praise kink, good girl kink, possessive dirty talk, breeding kink for the sake of possession NOT pregnancy, creampie, use of a plug to keep the cum inside afterwards, he playfully spanks her clit with it, hihih they’re so needy but they’re also in love <3

Wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: honestly, i don’t know what demon possessed me but i wrote this in like fourty minutes and it’s so unhinged JFJDAJF i watched outlander before that and they were being so horny so i think the language i used got a lil influenced by it jjfadjf have fun my loves 💗

“You’re such a good girl”, Seokjin grunts through gritted teeth, burying his heavy cock inside your dripping cunt over and over again. 

You are beneath him, writhing and moaning with your head far away in the blissful high of pleasure he has you on. 

It started off as a romantic evening. You and he wanted to do something special as husband and wife, have a little date and make it lovely. And oh lovely it was. You went for dinner to an expensive restaurant then had fun at an arcade until you even spent your last pennies on the silly machines. It was perfect. It was fun. It was romantic. And it was arousing. 

Being with each other like this - having fun and laughing together, spending time doing something you both enjoyed and seeing each other dressed up in pretty clothes - made the desire for each other so unbearable that you barely managed to drive home without taking each other in the car. In the middle of the road, causing trouble for others. Of course you didn’t. You were civilised like that. Ignoring, of course, the heavy make out session in the apartment complex hallway. Now, normally you and he are never that public with your skin ship, let alone with outright desire, but you needed each other so much. Seokjin kept panting and growling into your mouth, acting like a starved man finally having his taste of flesh again. You never witnessed him in public like this before, wanting him like nothing else because of it. If you were any less civilised, you might have ripped his clothes off his body right there and then.

But you controlled yourselves, stumbling into your apartment and right to your bedroom, undressing each other on the way so that you fell into the sheets both naked and wet. There was barely any, what others might consider as traditional, foreplay. No long exploring touching, no hungry mouths tasting the other, no grinds or needy rubbing. There were hungry kisses, strong grips and desperate begs for the other. It wasn’t long after you and he fell into the sheets that Seokjin was buried inside of you. Deep and in a merciless, maddening rhythm. And you loved it. You loved every second of it. 

You still do. 

You love it so much.

“Good girl, taking me so well. Being so pretty for me, fuck I can’t get enough of you”, he moans, showing you his honesty in heavy rolls of his hips. His cock is weeping, pleasure mixing with yours and covering both your groins in it. How sticky it is. How messy and wet and sinful. If he could, he would bottle this feeling so he can relive it whenever he wants to. He loves nothing more than to laugh with you, loves nothing more than to experience happy life with you and to see that you are enjoying yourself as well. Tonight you ruined him, you made him a mad man driven by his desire for you. You looked so beautiful, you were so perfect and funny and wonderful. Seokjin knew he had to make you feel eternal the moment you first smiled at him. 

And he loves that you want him just as much, that you are so wet and so warm because you are in paradise. Seokjin pumps his throbbing cock into you in a sensual roll of his hips. He keeps it there, writing his name on your most sensitive spot. He watches with a dizzy head how this turns off every single light of sanity in your eyes, leaving behind fiery, wild flames of pleasure. The only thing keeping the flames at pay are your tears, filling your beautiful eyes before rolling down your temples. 

“Jin”, you whimper, lower lip trembling and fingers desperately grasping his hair. It is as black and dark as the night, hanging into his beautiful face messy and damp from sweat. It sits perfectly between your fingers, twisting so easily as you hold onto it for dear life. 

“Does it feel good for you? Is this nice?” he asks you, mesmerised by the view of you. 

You nod your head, sobbing softly with your brows furrowing in ecstasy. 

“___ my sweetheart, I love being with you”, he gets out, making sure to keep the rhythm going. It makes you feel like this and Seokjin would be damned if he took this away from you. The tug on his hair grows. It burns and pinches, motivating him to keep going. It feels so good to have his hair pulled. Especially when it is done in a moment of passion. 

You do it gently and softly whenever you and he are making out. You do it mindlessly and rather shakily when he eats you out for a long and attentive time. And you do it harshly and desperately whenever he is buried inside you to the very hilt. 

Seokjin loves having his hair pulled in a moment of passion, riding on such a strong wave of pleasure that the feeling brings him to his fall tonight. 

His middle presses into you, rubbing against your swollen clit while his veiny cock still drills your puffy walls. His face falls into the crook of your neck and his left hand incidentally falls around your throat, laying there trembling and trying not to squeeze down. 

“Seokjin”, you sob, instantly wrapping your limbs around him. Your hips meet him in the middle, falling into a sloppy dance solely motivated by pleasure. It feels so good to both of you that you can’t stop it. So now you lie rutting and fucking in the sheets, holding each other so close that not even air could separate the two of you. 

He is taller than you, he has more muscles too. You always call him your gentle giant and your handsome protector. Whenever you do, Seokjin smiles to himself shyly and he seems to be cuddlier for the rest of the day. Sometimes when you lie together after a hard day, you love to rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. You feel so safe whenever he allows you to do this. When the weather is colder again, you sometimes like to cuddle into him until he wraps his jacket around both of you. You feel so warm and taken care of whenever he does this. And sometimes in bed, when he is barely awake, you lie beside him and trace the paths of his body until you made a map of it. You feel so blessed whenever he gives you consent to do this.  

Tonight, his tall, strong body is atop of you, spending you warmth and applying gentle pressure on your chest. You never felt more connected with him than you do right now and you sob because of it, begging him to seal the connection even deeper. 

“Choke me, please.”

His hips falter for a moment.

“Please my love, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please. I’m yours, just please make me yours.”

“Oh, I’m gonna make you mine in more ways than one, my love.”

His fingers close around your throat, cutting off the blood flow to your brain just enough that a warm dizziness spreads behind your eyes. 

“Holy fuck, Seokjin”, you moan, arching your back as best as his body on top allows you to, fingers twisting his hair in an attempt to handle what he gives you. 

“Is this what you need, sweetheart? Does this feel good?”

“Yes, good. So good, oh god, so good”, you sob and mewl, throbbing around his heavy cock.

“Fuck sweetheart, I’m gonna cum so deep inside you. Gonna breed you with the sole purpose of making you mine.”

“Seokjin, please!”

“The way you say my name, urgh fuck”, he gets out and growls, forcing himself back onto one elbow so he can look at your face as he makes you feel eternal. 

Your eyes are squeezed shut, your brows pulled tight and your mouth is agape. This is it. This is the face you make when you feel nothing but pleasure. 

Seokjin swears he tears up himself at the sight of you, applying a little more pressure on your veins. 

You wail up, arching your back off the sheets and reaching above yourself to twist the pillow. Your legs fall from his hips, shaking on the mattress each time he drills his leaking cock into you. 

“Say it again, sweetheart. Say my fucking name.”

“Seokjin”, you croak. 

“That’s right. Who makes you feel so good?”

“Seokjin”, you whimper. 

“I do, baby, I do. Fuck”, he grunts, struggles for a second then continues with even more passion, “and who do you belong to?”

“Seokjin”, you wail, grasping his wrists to squeezes them so tightly, Seokjin fears they might bruise. 

“You do, baby, you do. Fuck, you do. Mine and I’m yours. All yours, baby. With my body, heart and soul. Yours.”

“I’m cumming, please.”

“Let go, sweetheart. I’m right here. Your gentle Seokjin’s right here”, he soothes you and lets go of your throat. 

The blood shoots back to your brain, serving as the final blow to throw you over the edge. You make a little squeak then fall into silent screams, shaking with such vigour that Seokjin fears for you for just a moment. 

“Holy fuck sweetheart, what the hell? Baby, fuck. That’s it, cum for me. That’s it, such a good girl. Cum on my cock, such a good girl. You’re so pretty like this, my good girl, my pretty girl”, he chants, tongue acting quicker than his brain. He has no idea what he is spitting, but he knows that whatever he is saying to you in his delirious state, it comes from his heart (and maybe also a little from his cock).

“Please. Breed me”, you croak out with what little strength you have left as your orgasm shakes you, but to Seokjin’s ears it was as clear as day.

It breaks him. He couldn’t have stopped it even if he tried.

His eyes roll back and stay there, his back arches as far as the position allows it to. His legs feel like weak sticks, shaking between yours as his heavy balls empty themselves inside your tight cunt. He makes sure to cum so deep, to bury each droplet of his white seed in your walls so that they will know who they are allowed to welcome. Not that he has any doubt in your faithfulness, as you have none in his’, but it still feels so good to both of you to seal this promise of monogamy with a deep, sticky creampie.

He drops on top of you once your highs died down, burying you under his weight. Not that you mind. You hug him tightly, smiling happily with your head still turning.

“I fucking love you, Mister Kim”, you lull.

“I fucking love you too, Misses Kim”, he rasps, voice barely there after what he just experienced.

With your heart fluttering, you giggle. He giggles as well, kissing your neck softly. You enjoy it with tingling skin, making him feel good as well by tracing his spine gently.

“I can’t believe we did that.”

“Yeah, it was amazing. For me it at least. Was it-”

“Hush, of course it was amazing for me. You did everything right.”

“Yay, I’m glad I did.”

You laugh because he is a dork and you are irrevocably in love with him. You shift a little under him, groaning in disappointment.

“I don’t want to leak. I wanna keep you inside me for longer.”

“Mhm”, he pecks your cheek, “I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Then, don’t move. I’ll be back.”

He rolls off of you, giving your pussy a little kiss before he truly climbs off bed to hurry to the dresser.

“What on earth are you doing?” you ask him in a chuckle.

“Getting something so you can keep me inside.”

“And what will that be, mhm?”

He returns to you, climbing on top of you. You grab bundles of his hair, purring happily as he kisses you. The kiss lasts until your breath runs out, then it breaks and Seokjin disappears between your legs. You prop yourself up in your elbows.

“What are you doing?”

He lifts a clean silicone buttplug. You ogle it, gulping.

“I know your pussy’s strong enough to keep it inside for a little. Wanna have it?”

“Yes”, you say, opening your legs.

He takes the plug inside his mouth to wet it, letting go of it with a bop of his puffy lips. He connects it with your clit first, spanking it softly. You gasp and twitch, soon reaching down to his shoulder gently.

“Stop it you”, you laugh, “I’m too sensitive for your shenanigans.”

He chuckles and nuzzles his nose into your inner thigh, kissing your skin lovingly.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist”, he murmurs, giving you one last kiss before sitting up.

He connects the toy with your puffy hole and pushes it inside, making you moan softly and drop into the sheets in a sensual squirm.

“Mhhhm that’s nice. God, I love being plugged up with your cum still inside.”

“And I love knowing that something of mine is inside that warm heaven of yours”, he rasps, kissing a path up your body, “now come and let me kiss you.”

“Is it just me or is someone not sated yet?”

“When it comes to you? I’m like a spoiled house cat never happy with what its fed.”

You fall into the kiss laughing and smiling, twisting his hair gently.

[shdysders]

mistake

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: in which tara makes a mistake she can't undo

word count: 3.4k

warnings: violence, blood, stabbing, blood & death.

author’s note: feel like my writing is deteriorating, so sorry this might not be the greatest.

When you heard that Mindy and Ethan had been separated from the rest of the group, you immediately knew nothing was going to go according to the plan.

Everything had happened so fast. First accusation news about Sam had streamed on television, then Quinn's bloody corpse had fallen on top of you, then Anika wasn't able to make it across the latter, her bloody hands and Ghostface's shaking had made her slip. You had lost two of your friends in less than fifteen minutes.

You hadn't heard of the killings in Woodsboro until you had met Tara the first day of junior year, but she made sure to tell you everything that had happened the closer the two of you got.

Based on everything you had heard, you understood why Sam was so protective over Tara, the Carpenter sisters had been through more than normal people have in a lifetime.

However, even though you were nothing but nice and understanding towards Sam, she didn't seem to like you.

The first time Tara had brought you home to the apartment, Sam had kept a burning gaze on you for the whole time, like she wanted to burn you alive.

You thought that she would warm up and eventually trust you like she seemed to do with Anika, Quinn and Ethan, but she never did.

And it only got worse once Tara had called you her girlfriend in front of her, a huge disagreement broke out, so big that Sam had sent you out of the apartment.

You never got to know what Sam had said after that, but you did know that the glares you got from Sam only worsened and so did the small comments she would make about you when she thought you didn't hear.

Such as now, when Sam and Tara were walking in front of you, the theater being the destination. You had this gut feeling that Sam was currently talking about you. You just knew she was, even tho you couldn't hear her voice nor did you see her head moving like it normally did when she spoke, you knew.

But your mind changed thoughts when she rapidly turned on her heel, stopping when she was in front of Danny who had been walking closely behind you, alongside Kirby.

"Not you." She said, her voice cracking.

"What?" He answered almost immediately, like he had been expecting it.

"Don't trust anyone remember?" Sam replied.

You watched the scene with worried eyes, what Sam said reminded you way too much of something she had told Tara when she thought you weren't near. "We don't know you.. not really."

His face expression looked hurt, almost taken aback when Sam spoke. "You know me."

"You're not Woodsboro." She spoke quickly, rage lacing her voice.

Tara looked down at her shoes after that was said, her lips finding a home between her teeth. You knew she was scared, because you were as well. You had no idea how things were going to go down, you had never experienced something as brutal like this before.

You were seconds away from putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, before she looked up at you with tears pricking her eyes.

"That goes for you too." She swallows thickly, trying her hardest to look into your eyes.

You furrowed your eyebrows, panic rising through you. "W-what?" Your voice came out as a stutter, not believing what she had just made it's way out of her mouth.

Tara just nodded unsurely, her eyes looked sad and were filled with doubt. You couldn't understand why. If she was sad about it, why would she say it?

"Tara I- you can't be serious." You spoke again, voice growing shakier by the minute.

She knew very well how terrified you were about the situation as it was, and yet she still chose to leave you out of the plan alongside Sam's unknown fuck buddy? If it didn't make you shake out of fear you would've been infuriated.

"You're not Woodsboro." She stated, same thing as her sister but in a different tone, she'd tried to sound calm, but her voice was filled with uncertainty, shaky with worry.

You knew she was right. You weren't Woodsboro. You had never been to the place nor did you knew it existed before Tara came along. But the fact that she didn't trust you enough to know for certain that you weren't Ghostface, made you feel the need to fall apart. Did she really think you would kill your friends? Let alone hurt them?

The thought made your eyes sting, and before you had the chance to wipe the tears away, they fell.

"Tara please I promise I-" You felt embarrassed, being so vulnerable over basically nothing.

All eyes were on you as you tried to keep the tears from falling, you felt ridiculous. But you were terrified.

You couldn't stand the thought of being left alone in this situation. Not only because you were scared of being alone, but also because you had to protect Tara.

Although you knew Sam would do a perfectly fine job of keeping her safe, but you wanted to do it, you had to. You wanted to prove to Sam that you loved Tara almost the same amount as she did, you wanted to prove to Tara she could trust you with her life.

You could see that Tara wanted to give in, tell you that you could come along and that she trusted you with her whole being. Her eyes were filled with regret and doubt. But you could tell that she wasn't going to change her mind anytime soon.

She just watched you, biting her lips hard enough to draw blood. Seeing the look on your face just made her want to squeeze you in a hug hard enough to make you faint.

You looked so scared, and the fact that she knew how scared you were about the whole situation, made everything worse. She had noticed the terrified look on your face that hadn't left since the attack at the apartment, your trembling hands and the layer of tears in your eyes that never fell.

Tara actually thought that you looked more scared than both Sam and her combined.

"Y/n please just stay here." She tried to reason, as if she wanted this. But she did want it. She wanted you to be safe.

You wanted to argue, tell her that you would refuse to come along. But you knew that you wouldn't get anywhere with it, Tara was stubborn, she always got what she wanted somehow. And you didn't want Sam to see you argue with Tara, that certainly wouldn't help you get on better terms with her.

So you gave in, even though you knew Tara's life was at stake. Sam will take care of her, you tried to tell yourself.

You quickly wiped the tears on your cheeks with your hand, even though everybody had already seen them.

Tara's eyes never left your figure as she watched your trembling hands. "Fine." You almost spit, voice cracking with worry.

Tara nodded at that, happy to hear you give in. You didn't pay attention to anybody's reaction other than hers, they didn't seem to matter.

She walked closer to you, placing a kiss on your faintly tear stained cheek. "Be safe." She said, as if she wasn't the one that was about to walk into a situation that she would either leave traumatized or not leave at all.

"Be safe." You repeated, before you watched them all walk away towards the building.

Seeing as Sam turned her head to Tara and whispered 'good call', as they walked away.

But when you turned around to try and make a decent conversation with Danny, he was nowhere in sight. Making even more worry creep in your bones.

***

You had been pacing around in the same place and pattern for 20 minutes without any progress, Danny was gone, and your phone was dead.

The streets where dead and empty.

You had half a mind to just run to the theaters and do the exact opposite of what Tara had instructed you to. But you knew well enough that both of the Carpenter sisters would quite literally murder you if you stepped a foot into their plan.

But eventually the worry and stress got to you, like it always did. You didn't care if you were going to get murdered whether if it were by Tara or Ghostface, if it was for protecting Tara, it was a good reason.

However, before you had the chance to change your mind or consider the other options, a glove-covered hand landed on your face, covering your mouth tightly.

The yelp and screams you tried to make was inaudible, nobody could hear them.

You felt a surge of fear and panic, unable to hear your own scream. The street grew eerily silent as you struggled to break free, your heart pounding in your chest. Rush of intense vulnerability and confusion, as you desperately searched for a way to escape the grasp of the unknown assailant.

But you knew who it was. It was Ghostface.

You tried to kick them with your legs, but none of them seemed to hit. The person was holding a strong grip on your mouth, and the other arm was firmly placed around your waist. You were unable to move out of any of the grips, the person was too strong. And you weren't.

Your panic was making it harder to breath, and you were beginning to feel as if you were about to faint any second.

You tried your best to remove the grip with your hands, gripping hardly on the muscular arms, trying so hard to get them away from you.

The tightened arms had veins all over them, yet another reminder that it was impossible for you to get away.

It was Danny, you tried to tell yourself over the ringing in your ears. It had to be Danny. He had left the second you were alone with him. It had to be him.

Muffled screams and ringing ears were the only noises you could make out. If the person behind you was speaking in a voice changer to you or not, you had no idea.

The panic you felt was replaced with relief when the thought of using your elbow to hit the individual behind you entered your mind.

But you never got the chance to do that.

Seconds before your elbow was about to meet the Ghostface mask, you felt a sharp pain in your lower abdomen.

All of the movements you were making stopped the second you realized what it was.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Seven times you could feel the sharp piece of metal enter and exit your abdomen. A gasp escaped your mouth after every single one of them.

You tried to scream, but nobody was around. Your wide eyes scanned through the street, yet again seeing that nobody was there. It was all empty.

Normally the streets of New York would be filled with drunk teenagers and late night workers, whether it was night or afternoon.

But when the news about the killers got out, everybody stayed inside. Some people didn't even bother to leave for work, and of course no parties. Even the homeless people seemed to have found another place to stay at.

You didn't realize that numbness was spreading through your legs until the potential male had slowly began to loosen the grip he had on your figure.

Before you had time to think, he had completely let go.

Suddenly you felt dizzy, you couldn't feel your feet, you couldn't feel your legs, you couldn't feel anything.

You could barely feel your legs giving up, nor did you feel your body hitting the ground as you tried to cover up the damage that had been made on your lower stomach.

Regardless the sharp pain in your body that almost made it impossible to breathe and the dizziness that got worse every time you moved, you tried to crawl towards the fence that was just centimeters away.

Your hands bloody from trying to add pressure to your wounds made trails on the asphalt.

You couldn’t tell if you had placed your hands on the right place, considering that the stab wounds were all over the place. And you didn't even dare to look down, because you could guarantee that it wouldn't be a pleasant sight.

Your eyes were starting to close by themselves and you were struggling to keep them open.

Everything hurt.

The pressure you were putting on the wounds was now becoming lighter, your hands didn't seem to have any strength left in them.

Tara would be here soon, you thought, desperately.

She would be here soon, everything would be okay; no more Ghostface attacks, no more Sam hating you, and no more unexpected death cases of your friends.

Your mind focused on Tara.

Her brown hair, her beautiful brown eyes, her dimples and her breathtaking smile. Her voice, her touch, and her joyful laugh.

Your eyes closed, and this time you couldn't stop them. The pressure on your wounds was no longer existent. The color in you was gone. You were gone.

Last thought being the girl you wanted to marry.

***

Tara left the building with a lump in her stomach, as big as a bowling ball.

Her body was filled with worry and guilt, but a part of her felt relief. She was relieved that everything was over now. No more Ghostfaces. She was done with them, truly.

Tara couldn't wait to see you. She was going to tell you that the decision she made was right, that she was happy you stayed behind, because you stayed safe.

But when Danny had walked into the theater, tackling all kinds of officer in his way, he was all alone. You weren't there, you didn't come with him.

Danny told them that the two of you had lost sight of each other rather quickly after they'd left, that you probably just needed to be alone and breathe for a moment.

Tara knew that you would be upset with her, for not allowing you to come with them, for not letting you protect her, like you always told her you would, even if it meant dying.

Although she had hoped for you to at least come to see if she made it out alive.

Danny had called the cops and ambulance to arrive at the place as soon as he got the chance. That's why the only thing in Tara's sight was ambulances, police cars and the fire department.

Chad had miraculously made it out alive, same with Mindy and Kirby. And even though that made Tara want to cry out in happy tears, she couldn't let herself feel anything until she had seen you.

Safe and secure. Like you should've been.

Panic began to rise within Tara as minutes passed without any sight of you.

Sam stood beside her, trying to sooth her younger sister with comforting words. But they didn't make anything better for her.

After the whole showdown, the two Carpenter sister's had talked, really talked.

Sam had tried to explain to Tara that she didn't actually hate you, the opposite really. She thought you were lovely and a perfect match for Tara. But she didn't want to take any risks.

She wanted to show you the walls to her trust weren't easy to break. And then she thought that if she acted rude towards you, you would eventually leave; meaning there was no need for Sam to let her guard down and open up to people she didn't know.

But Sam knew how much Tara loved you, she had been listening to her sister's rambling about you everyday.

That's why Sam could feel her heart sinking down her entire being when her eyes met with a stretcher where a body was placed, a morgue sheet on top of it, which was filled with blood.

Sam prayed that it was somebody else. That you had walked somewhere else to breathe just like Danny had assumed.

She felt the need to distract Tara before she had the chance to see it, but it was too late.

She had already seen it.

Tara screamed out your name in a sob, straight away assuming that you were the person underneath the white cover.

The woman who had been pushing the stretcher had stopped, turning around to try and give the man behind her any sort of information about the deceased individual.

Tara's legs moved faster than she could process, Sam following shortly after.

Heart pounding, hands trembling. With a swift of motion, she grabbed the edge of the wrap and pulled it upward, revealing your pale and peaceful face.

The vibrant hues that once painted your face were now gone, leaving behind a pale and ghostly visage. The colors had been drained from you, you no longer looked like yourself.

Tara could feel herself gasp loudly at the sight, turning around with a hand placed on her mouth.

A surge of sickness overwhelmed her. A gut-wrenching sensation, as if her stomach was about to revolt. She felt like she was on the verge of throwing up, basically feeling the acidic liquids rise within her.

It was you. Her girl. Dead. Gone.

Sam had the same reaction to the sight, gasping and putting her hand on her mouth, preventing from letting out any tears or sounds. Chills running down her spine.

Stop it. Pull it together. Tara. Tara needs you. Sam told herself.

Gaze shifting from your body and the bloody sheet upon you to her younger sister, who was sobbing beside her, about to fall down to her knees.

But when Sam put a hand on Tara's shoulder, she stood straighter. "No!" She shot up, voice raspy.

She looked at you again, but this time not caring for the feeling inside of her throat that threatened her. "She's not dead." Tara spoke again, trying to convince herself that you were alive, that she could save you.

"Tara-" Sam tried, but Tara had no interest in listening to her sister.

"Y/n. Baby, look at me." Tara gently brushed her fingertips against your cheeks, but quickly pulled away when she felt the chill that pierced through her body, for they were once a source of warmth and comfort, now distant and cold.

You were always warm.

The tears streamed down Tara's face, leaving even more mascara smudges on her cheeks, falling and leaving marks on her blue shirt. The shirt that you had gotten her.

"Sam, Come on! help me please" She begged for her big sister's help, still hoping that you could be saved.

At that sentence, the woman who had pushed you turned around, she seemed to have heard Tara's pleads and begs, filled with hope, wishing that you were alive. "Oh honey, this girl has been deceased for over an hour...we can't save her."

The woman spoke apologetically and looked at Tara with sorrowed eyes. "I'm so sorry." She ended. Tara was about to scream at the lady, yell at her and tell them to at least try, you weren't gone. There was no way.

But before Tara got the chance to argue, Sam had pulled her into her chest, embracing Tara with a hug. And at that, Tara broke.

The sobs left her mouth faster than she could take them in, she didn't have any space to breathe.

"She's gone." She cried, her tears staining the older woman's shirt. "And I wasn't there to help her." Tara rambled, talking rapidly before the next sob would escape.

Sam didn't know what to say. She just stroke her younger sister's hair, trying to soothe her sobs.

She had never seen Tara this vulnerable and emotionally ruined, not even when she had reunited with Tara at the hospital the previous year.

Tara's body shook violently as each sob left her mouth.

It was a mistake. It was all a mistake.

Tara had been so confident with her decision only minutes before. She thought she had made the right move.

But it turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life.

A mistake she couldn't take back, and had to live with for the rest of her time alive.

[oneforthemunny]

what about mafia!eddie and reader going through a rough patch and all they do is fight and kitten tells him that they should take a break and i'll leave the rest up to you....

oof ok let's 180 back to angst. buckle up angsty babes!

"Maybe," Your voice trembled, sucking in a shaky breath. "Maybe I should go stay with my parents... for a while."

Eddie's head whipped around, eyes wide with something you couldn't quite detect, a new look teetering between anger and something worse. It made your spine tingle with chills, icy and fearful.

"What?" Eddie's voice was soft, much quieter than the raised tone from before.

"I-I think," You tried to still your voice, throat raw and aching from the back and forth screaming match of the night. "I think I- we need to be apart for a while." You whispered, refusing to meet his gaze, looking at the couch behind him instead.

"Why?" Eddie barked, teeth gritting and baring in fury, heart pounding with a fear he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Eddie," You sighed, shaking your head at him. "Seriously? All we do is fight." A fresh wave of tears rolled over you, nose burning.

"That's not-"

"-Eddie," You stopped him, gaze meeting his. You could see it now, could see that the foreign look was fear. Your heart sank, taking a shuddering breath to calm yourself. "We're just... We can't stop fighting."

Eddie stilled, frozen across from you. "I'm tired of fighting." You admitted softly, shoulders slumping in defeat.

Days, weeks of bickering- back and forth until your voices were raw, doors slamming, then retreating back with careful apologies, only to repeat the cycle over and over. You were dizzy from it, from trying to get him to see, to understand your point. He was so stubborn.

What started as a what if silly conversation, turned into a bickering, fueled into a full blown fight that seemed never ending.

"You'd be a good dad. You're so good with the boys." You hummed, leaning against his chest.

"Yeah? You'll never know." Eddie scoffed casually.

You frowned, pushing up to look at him. "What?"

Eddie blinked. "C'mon, you know I can't have kids. Not doin' this job. Won't do it to some poor kid."

"But I'll never know?" Your lips pursed. "That's a pretty shitty thing to say to me. Pretty bold." You pushed off of him, out of his hold.

Eddie huffed, running a hand down his face. "Where're you- Seriously? We've talked about this, have we not?"

"Yeah, we have." You huffed, cheeks burning. "But saying I'll never know- do you not see how that's a little rude?"

"What?" Eddie threw his hands up. "You won't. Not with me, anyways."

You gawked at him, surprised, furious, hurt. "You're such a fuckin' asshole. I can't believe you." You snapped, stomping off.

That was the first night. Both of you stubbornly coming for the other, agitation building over and over and over, piling on top of previous fury until you'd finally burst. Leaving you standing here, where you are now, defeated and ready to throw the towel in, too tired to fight.

"I-I- Baby, if this is about the kids thing, look, I told you-"

Your sigh cut Eddie off. "It's not about that." You ran a hand down your face. "I can't- I can't keep trying to explain my side of things when you aren't listen. You won't listen."

"Then what? What is it?" Eddie's franticness turned to angry urgency. "Just say what you mean! Say it!"

You didn't flinch at his anger, at his outburst. Your lip wobbled, taking a deep breath in. "I've said it." You muttered. "I can't- I won't be in a relationship that's one sided." Eddie felt sick at your words.

"I understand that you don't want certain things, and I respect that, I do. But I've changed a lot of things in my life for you, because I love you." You continued, tears brimming your vision. "All I'm asking is for a little change in return. Not with the kids thing-" You cut him off before he could start, sensing what he was going to say.

"But there's two of us in this relationship." You look at him. "I just wish you could try to see my side of things sometimes."

"I do-" Eddie spat in defense.

"-When I'm agreeing with you, you do." You snapped back. "But when it's something you disagree with, you shut me down, dismiss it because what you say is law-"

"-It is not-"

"-And I'm tired of it." You look at him pleadingly. "I think we both need some time apart to figure out what we want. What we do from here."

Eddie felt tears burn, threatening to fall. "I know what I want." He gritted through clenched teeth. "I want you. I've always wanted you. I don't need time to figure out because it's not changing."

You nodded slowly. "I know you do." You whispered. "But this is what I'm talking about. That's what you want."

Eddie felt sick, heart sinking lower and lower into the pit in his stomach. "I need time apart." The room was silent, your voice cutting through. "I need to figure it out."

"Are you- You're breaking up with me?" Eddie sounded petulant, voice crackingly pathetic that he hadn't been since he was a teenager.

Your shoulder shuddered, exhaling shakily. "I didn't say that." You shook your head. "I-I don't want to, that's not what this is. I just... I need to be able to think. We both do."

Eddie blinked, vision bleary with tears that fell. "Alright," He nodded, ignoring the ache in his chest, heart splitting in two. "If that's what you want."

Watching you drive off, slow down the road, Eddie ignored the screaming in his head to run after you. To pull you out of the car, demand you come back, bring you back himself. This is what I'm talking about, your voice played in a painful loop in his mind.

You called him like you said you would, hours later when you got to your parent's house. A quiet, quick phone call. His heart still swelled, lifting when you muttered a fast, "love you" before hanging up.

Sitting in the stillness of the empty house, Eddie had never felt so lonely in his entire life. It was horrifying, thinking that his future could be like this- a life without you in it. Eddie decided right then and there, he'd do whatever he needed to make sure that wasn't his reality.

[disneyprincemuke]

the other woman * mv1

everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: cheating, jake gyllenhaal type behaviour

notes: hi i know i promised this on xmas eve and then i failed to deliver mY BAD BABY GIRLS! i am trying my best but then again i did get a fever and all but its ok lfg and NO I WILL NOT BE WRITING A PART TWOOOOO

(f1 masterlist)

your eyes watch your front door, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to hold yourself back from crying. there's a sob bubbling from the deepest part of your gut as you glance at the clock one more time.

he's late.

but one can also say that he's simply not coming. did he lie when he told you that he would make sure he showed up for you this time? or did he just simply forget about you again?

your eyes have been staring at that door for the better part of the last hour or so since guests started arriving for the party you'd thrown.

a party you'd thrown, admittedly, just to get his attention. you were never one to make a big deal of your birthday anyway, but he made you think otherwise. because he promised you that he would be here no matter what happened. it's stupider that he was the one that encouraged you to throw a party today.

only for him not to show up?

this is the one time you needed him to so desperately show up for you. but here you are, looking like a fool waiting for somebody who wouldn't come; for somebody who didn't even make you a first choice.

because you know that when if push comes to shove, he would still pick her. max would always pick kelly and penelope over you, no matter how much he tells you that he loves you. no matter how many times you endured him telling you that he no longer wants to be with her.

you know better than to be his little secret. your parents had not raised you to be a potential homewrecker, but are you really being one if he's the one that keeps coming back to you?

you've tried staying away, and you've attempted to cut all sorts of contact with him, but he eventually crawls right back to you a couple of weeks later claiming that he will break up with kelly soon.

you've even bought a new dress for the occasion; in max's favourite colour and a cut that you knew he would say you look amazing in.

only for him to bail on you. you'd even taken the effort to sit for an hour to do your makeup and hair. for nothing, essentially.

fast forward a couple of hours of holding back tears and forcing smiles, you're hunched over the couch, picking up empty beer cans and tears streaming down your face. at the end of the day, you're left alone in your apartment with a heavy heart and the eerie silence the room can only offer you.

you watch the last car from your guests drive away. you sigh and throw yourself on the couch, finally letting the tears fall from your eyes. you had no idea it was so difficult to pretend like you're okay until today.

it's totally different when it's got something to do with the heart, it seems. you were totally banking on the fact that he would be here today, at least today. just today. because it's your birthday.

it's your day.

a knock on the door sits you right up, hands darting up to wipe the tears that smudged your makeup. "give me a second!"

"it's just me."

the anger suddenly hits you. so he is available to travel out to come and see you. just not a couple of hours prior when everybody else was here? just not at the time when you actually wanted him to be here?

you stomp your way over to the door and swing the door open and a string of apologies quickly spill from his mouth. you immediately notice the wrapped present in his hand and the bouquet of flowers.

"i'm sorry, i got held up at home," max apologises with a frown. "p had a fever and she wouldn't go to bed unless i tucked her in. i'm sorry, i know i'm late."

you sigh, rolling your eyes. "you're not just late," you scowl, "you missed the party entirely, max."

"oh," he slumps his shoulders, "i was wondering why it was so quiet when i was walking up."

you shake your head and walk further into your apartment. "max, just go home. you don't have a reason to be here."

"what do you mean? it's your birthday," he says gently, following you in. he closes the door behind him and follows you into your living room. "is there still cake? maybe you can blow the candles with me before the day ends? i even got you a present."

"no, i let people take home pieces of the cake," you say softly, returning to your agenda of cleaning your home from the traces of the party your friends left. "what am i going to do with cake that i don't even eat?"

"you bought chocolate cake on your birthday? you don't even like chocolate," he points out softly. "nevermind that, i got you a present!"

"i don't give a fuck about your stupid present, max!" you burst, standing up and turning to finally face him. "i didn't ask for a fucking present! i asked you for one thing and you couldn't even do that!"

he stares at you, dumbfounded with his lips parted in shock at your outburst. you're not typically one to have outbursts, which is the one thing he claims he finds very refreshing about you. you're calm and collected most of the time, and you assess the situation before picking fights. "p was sick. what did you want me to do?"

"you're telling me you're a sole parent to this little girl?" you ask. "kelly couldn't have tucked her in so you could show up to the party that you asked me to throw? on my birthday? max, you had one job and it was to show up for me tonight! i waited for you all night!"

he seems to have lost all ability to speak because he just pulls out a chair from your dining table and takes a seat. "i'm sorry. you're right, i should have been here."

"seriously, max! are you actually ever going to leave them or do you just lie straight through your teeth whenever you tell me that?" she scolds him, throwing her arms in the air. "i'm not stupid, max! this has gone on long enough!"

"i am, and i will!" he answers you, running his hands through his hair. "i just need more time. there's a child involved, i really hope you understand. i can't just leave."

"you say that every single time! it's been seven months!" you cry. "you've made me the other woman for seven long months! am i supposed to just sit here and take that? just because i love you?"

"i do love you! but it's complicated, okay? i can't just leave p like this!"

you clench your jaw. how many times have you heard that excuse in the past year? and how many more times will you be fooled by the sweetness in his voice and his glistening blue eyes? "max, i think you should go. lose my number, and forget that i ever existed. i can't do this anymore."

his head snaps up to you. he quickly walks over to you, throwing his arms around you from behind. "wait, don't say that. please, i promise. i'll leave in the next month. don't leave me. i really don't love her anymore."

"i'm so tired of the lies, max," you sigh, desperately tearing his arms away from your body. you take a step back and turn to him. "you will always choose them over me. it doesn't matter how much you love me, max. you're too attached to them to leave."

"listen to me, okay? i will leave them. and then we can be happy together like we talked about all those nights we spent together," max coos, putting his hands on your shoulder. he bends down slightly to look into your eyes. "please, just give me one last chance - more time. i just need time. i will let p down easily and i'll leave kelly. please."

"i don't know how many more times you think you can fool me with that lie, max!" you frown, shoving him back. "just leave! leave me alone! i refuse to let you make me look like an idiot! i'm better than this."

"i thought you said you understood my predicament. with p in the picture..."

"yeah, for seven long months. do you know how many days that is? how many hours i'd spend with you wondering when you'd finally take me off the backseat and make me your own officially?" you throw your head back and a dry laugh passes your lips. "max, just leave. don't call me again."

"you don't really mean that."

"i do this time," you say firmly, turning around to face him.

you circle around him and walk over to your front door, pulling it open and gesturing towards the hallway. "i'm done. take your flowers and your stupid present and leave."

he does what you say, hesitantly. he keeps his eyes on you, hoping that you will immediately change your mind. he travelled this far to get to you, hoping that you would somehow forgive him for missing your birthday party.

but you're right, now that he's had a couple of seconds to think about it. in the past seven months, he's told you that he'd up and leave kelly and penelope so he can finally be with you openly. it's much harder to keep you in the shadows when everyone's got eyes on him all the time.

perhaps it's the attachment to penelope that he can't get himself to pack his things and call it a day. he genuinely does love that kid. and his girlfriend has her good days - not all make him want to pull at his hair in frustration anymore.

but he also really does love you. if there hadn't been a loveable child in the picture, one that's grown very attached to him, he would have been able to walk away months ago. it could've been that easy.

"just hear me out," max says, stopping right by the door and giving you one last pleading look. "don't leave. not like this. we haven't even had a real fighting chance."

"that's because of you. not me," you answer dryly, looking up at him. "just go. i can't keep having this conversation with you."

"please."

"i gave you too many chances to make this right," you sigh, putting a gentle hand on his back to guide him out the door. you press your lips together as a lump forms in your throat. you're more shocked that you hadn't fully started bawling moments ago. "i should have done this a long time ago."

"i'm sorry."

"i'm sure you are. too little too late." then you close the door on him and whatever could have been with max.

[mymindisneverhere]

FAVORS (2)

Part Two

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, lots of dialogue, slight smut, slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)

Masterlist

“Fuck.” He grunted through gritted teeth, looking down at her as she went to work on him. 

She stuck her tongue out and ran it up the bottom of his shaft moaning from the sweet taste of him, never tearing her gaze from his. She wrapped her red stained lips around the head of his dick slightly sucking, drinking the pre-cum that oozed from it. 

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to do this to you?” She spoke softly, kissing down the length of his dick.  

He lifted his head to get a better view of her. He struggled a bit, giving that he was flat on his back, limbs stretched and bound to the bed. He bit his bottom lip, trying his hardest not to completely fold under her spell. It was becoming harder and harder by the second as she continued building his anticipation. 

She ran her tongue back up to the tip again before taking in every inch of him at once. He could feel her throat become narrow, causing the muscles in his abdomen to tighten. After a few seconds, she raised her head and brought her eyes back to him.  

“Since the first day I met you.” She admitted, spitting the saliva that had built from her throat onto the tip of his dick.

“Oh shit.” He watched in awe as she bit her lip, admiring her mess. She was so damn pretty and so damn nasty. 

“If you’re good, I’ll let you feel how wet this pussy is all because of you…” 

*BEEP BEEP BEEP* 

Terry’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his alarm going off. He rested a heavy hand on top of the loud clock silencing it. Waking up 6:00 sharp every morning on the weekdays was his new norm. He sat up swinging his legs over the side of the bed and made his way to the bathroom in his small apartment. 

His morning routine was very simple: shower, wash his face, brush his teeth, oatmeal for breakfast and a protein shake for the road. He dressed in his usual uniform, gray t-shirt and khaki pants, sure that he was in dress code for work. 

‘1 Text Message from Summer’ 

Summer: Goodmorning, have a good day at work. Stop by afterwards, got something for you. 

Terry: Goodmorning, be there as soon as I clock out. 

With that, he hopped in his truck and headed off to another long eight hour shift on the job. 

The break room was filled with all of the morning shift workers waiting around until it was time to punch the clock and get to work. Most of them were preparing their usual morning coffees, others rushing to finish the last of their breakfast.

Terry greeted everyone as he headed over to the television, grabbing the remote to flip through the channels. 

“Goodmorning gentlemen.” Khloé greeted the break room full of men, causing everyone to fall silent. 

“Morning Ms. MacArthur!” The men greeted back in unison.

Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on him standing in front of the television watching the morning news. 

“Mr. Richmond!” She called out. 

He turned his head to look in her direction, his body still facing the tv. 

“Yes ma’am?” 

“If you have a minute, I’d like to speak with you in my office.” 

This earned Terry a few looks, some riddled with skepticism others just being plain immature. He placed the remote back into its designated spot and turned to follow behind her. 

They made their way down the long hall toward her office. He looked down at her legs, each step directly in front of the other as her heels clicked in a rhythm. The tall heels elongated her smooth legs, free of any marks or blemishes. He was trying his hardest to remain a gentleman but the way her ass moved with each step reminded him that he was still a man at the end of the day. 

She opened the door to her office and held out her hand signaling for him to enter. Her back was pressed against the tall door as he stepped into the office looking around the room. 

“Have a seat.” Khloé pointed to the large chair. 

Terry obliged. 

“Mr. Richmond, I’ve learned a lot about you in the last twenty-four hours.” She closed the office door and walked over to the desk, standing directly in front of him. “You’re one hell of a guy.” 

Terry sat quietly, unaware of what she was talking about. 

“I mean look at you, you scream ‘good guy who takes down bad guys’.” 

“I’m not understanding.” Terry stated, looking up at her. 

“I’m talking about Shelby Springs-“ She began, pushing herself back onto the desk. Her legs crossed at the ankle, hanging as she looked down at him. “-taking down those cops all by yourself. I’m impressed.” 

She went on to tell him what she had gathered from the news article but he couldn’t focus on her words. The way her mouth moved as she spoke, that bright red lipstick she wore brought back memories in an instant. Images begin to flash in his mind as he slowly remembers… 

The dream. 

The dream he had last night of those same lips wrapped around his dick made him shift in the chair, sitting up straight. He was hoping to hide the excitement he was beginning to feel the longer he stared at her mouth. 

He stared for so long they were beginning to move in slow motion. Her teeth were a natural white color, perfectly aligned and her choice of lip stain brought out her deep cupid's bow. The way her lips pursed every time she said “Richmond” was making him harder by the second. 

“Mr. Richmond?” She repeated, bringing him back into reality. 

“Ma’am?”

“Is there something in my teeth?” She asked, tilting her head. 

“No ma’am, I’m sorry.” 

“That’s okay, I’m just so used to your gorgeous eyes and that strong eye contact. I thought something may be wrong with my mouth.” She giggled. 

‘It’s not around my dick.’

“Forgive me, but I kinda zoned out. Could you repeat that last part?” 

“I said you’re a brave man. It takes a lot of courage to do what you did all by yourself.” 

Terry looked down at his lap and back up at her. “I had some help but thank you.” 

“It must’ve been really hard for you though, with your cousin passing, you being shot and all.” 

“It was tough but I’m okay.” 

She continued staring at him admiring his humble attitude. He could’ve easily walked around with his chest poked and God-like complex but truly he was just an innocent man. She loved that though, the more innocent he appeared to be, the more damage she could do to him.

“I saw that they took all of your savings from you. Did you ever get it back?” She asked. 

“Only enough to post his bail but that’s it.” 

“What were you planning to do with the rest?” 

“Well I was hoping to head out of town and start fresh.” He responded. “But I’m here. I’m alive and well, so as long as I still have the ability to work, I can build back up to that point eventually.” 

“I mean $26,000, that’s a large amount to try and save up at a job like this, no?” Khloé knew what she was doing, trying to sniff out some desperation so she could have the upper hand when she put her offer on the table. 

“It is but it’s not impossible.” 

‘Determined.’ She thought to herself. 

She worried that his “can do” attitude would cause him to turn down her proposal. I mean overall he wasn’t just some broke down victim of racism, he was just a man playing the cards life had dealt him, with no complaints. 

“What would you say if I told you I could give you the rest? It was $26,000 right?” She smiled, trying to appear harmless.

Terry stared up at her in confusion. He had just met her only a day ago and now she’s offering him a large amount of money. He knew nothing in life was free and he could smell the proposition from a mile away. However, he was not interested. 

“Why would you do that?” He chuckled slightly. 

“I want to help you.” She lied. “Some of the men in my family were in the military as well. I couldn’t imagine what life would be like for them if all of their hard work went down the drain at the hands of a couple of racist pigs.” 

They sat in silence staring at each other, both parties trying their hardest to read the other. She couldn’t possibly think he was gullible enough to just accept money from a stranger without returning the favor. But he couldn’t be silly enough to turn down an offer like this.

“No thank you Ms. MacArthur.” Terry stood up from the chair preparing to leave the office. 

“I’m not done speaking with you Mr. Richmond-“ She spoke, stopping him in his tracks, her soft tone never wavering. “and I don’t take no for an answer.” 

Terry let out a deep sigh before turning to face her yet again. 

“I’m sure you could use the money right now. A better place to stay, a nicer car, overall financial security. That sounds good doesn’t it?” She was milking it as best she could.

Terry had to admit to himself, all of it sounded great. To go from living comfortably to $0 was a struggle he fought through daily. He could go to his old friend Mr. Liu for money here and there but he wanted to have his own so that he wouldn’t be a constant bother to others. 

“What could you possibly want in return?” Terry asked cutting straight to chase. 

“You.” 

The look on her face letting him know she was dead serious. 

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” 

Terry frowned in pure confusion, there was no hiding it this time. 

“And what do you want me to do?” 

‘To fuck me.’ 

The corner of Khloés lip turned up into a slight smirk before answering.

“My family’s having their annual banquet and every year I get flack for not having a date. I’m the youngest daughter and all of my siblings are either married with children or engaged.” She admitted. “I need a date for the banquet and for other events so I was just wondering if you could be my “boyfriend” until I don’t need you anymore?” 

Terry sat silently, replaying what he had just heard in his mind a few times. He was having a hard time believing that this beautiful woman needed to pay a man to be her boyfriend. Men would worship the ground she walked on.

“A woman like you needs to pay a man to be with her?” Terry questioned. “There has to be a catch to all of this.” 

“Sadly, it’s my reality.” She admitted. “There is no catch. A very independent and ambitious woman like myself who’s financially well off thanks to her family, has a hard time with men who want to feel needed… and in control.” 

“And if I decline?” 

“Well I really don’t like being told no, so think long and hard about this.” Khloé said before hopping off of her desk. “You can get back to me on it tomorrow with any boundaries you’d like to set in place and I’ll see if I can accommodate you.” 

She smiled at him, unmoved by his obvious discomfort. Terry stared at her for just a few moments before awkwardly turning and exiting the office. 

“Have a good day at work!”

“It’s open!” Summer yelled from the kitchen of her tiny home. 

Terry entered the home, pulling the screen door and walking into the living room. Summer and Terry had managed to maintain their friendship after all the shit they had been through in Shelby Springs together. 

“You got a package today from the city, it’s on the table.” 

Terry grabbed the large folder from the table, opening it as he looked over at Summer. 

“What you cooking in here?” He asked, leaning against the wooden counter. 

“Just some soup, baby has a cold so I’m tryin’ my hardest to nurse her back to health.” Summer responded, stirring the soup slowly. “Seems like the more time she spends at that school the sicker she gets.” 

Summer had to enroll her daughter Bailey into the nearest public elementary school. The only problem was their lack of care and consideration for the children’s education and well being. This was the third time Bailey had been sick since the school year began. 

She didn’t want to send her to school to avoid the possibility of spreading the cold to other kids. But she also didn’t want Child Protective Services to revoke her full custody of her daughter because she misses so much school. 

“I really want her in the private school where my old coworkers' kids go. I just want her to get a good education and not have to be subject to the same conditions I had, you know?” Summer stated, looking over at Terry. 

“I understand.” 

“But the cost of tuition is just so much, I mean I get that it’s one of the only private schools around here but $10,000 for a 3rd grader is nuts, and that’s if I enroll her for just two years.” She said, shaking her head. “I just need her in a good school, just until I get the green light from CPS that we’re good to pack up and go.” 

Terry frowned as he saw the disappointment and sadness in Summers' face. He knew she wanted to be the best mother she could be and to prove not only to herself but to everyone else that she could successfully raise Bailey to be a phenomenal young woman. 

“That is a bit expensive but don’t lose hope, you never know what could happen in the future.” He spoke confidently, hoping to ease her worry she had for Bailey’s future but it wasn’t working. 

The more Summer spoke about this new school and her needing to pick up an extra job, the more Terry was revisiting Khloés offer in his mind. The thought of him posing as a rich girl's boyfriend for money was insane to him. But the look on Summers face pained him. The offer wasn’t sounding as crazy the more he imagined the peace she’d get knowing Bailey was in a good school.

“What’s in the folder?”

“Just some bullshit about Shelby Springs.” He responded, throwing the papers in the trash. 

“Work going okay?” 

Terry debated on telling her about his encounter with Khloé but decided against it. 

“Same ol same ol.” 

“I know it’s not what you were looking forward to doing but at least you got some good benefits. You being an ex-marine really helps in jobs like that.” 

“Yeah but I just wish Mike was here with me. I just wish my plan went through the way I wanted it to but-“ He shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “-life is gone do what it wants… just gotta roll with it.” 

Summer nodded in agreement. 

“Mommy?” Bailey yelled from the back room. 

“Sorry, duty calls.” Summer said, running to her daughter's bedroom. 

“That’s okay, you take care of her. I’m gonna head out.” 

“Thank you for stopping by, I’ll be sure to bring you some lunch sometime this week!” Summer yelled from her daughter's room. 

“I’ll be looking forward to it!”

With that, Terry left Summers home and headed to his second sanctuary, the 24 hour gym. 

Terry grunted heavily as he lifted the barbell above his chest. He was doing his usual upper body routine. He’d inhale and exhale in the same rhythm as his movements. Inhale, lower, exhale, lift. Making his last set count he trained to failure and then placed the bar back onto its rack. 

He sat up on the bench resting in between the next workout, steadying his breathing. 

‘You know how long I’ve been wanting to do this to you?’

His head shot up as he looked in the mirror. The voice was so close, he thought someone was standing right next to him. The voice… her voice… it was so soft at the same time bold and insistent. 

He shook it off and stood, preparing for a set of bicep curls. He lifted the 30 lb weights in each hand and began counting to himself. 

1…

2…

5…

6…

‘Mr. Richmond?’ 

10…

11… 

‘…I’ll let you feel how wet this pussy is…’

“12!” He said in a loud grunt. He slammed the dumbbells down to the ground and placed his hands on his hips. He shook his head as he tried his hardest to shake the sound of her voice. There was no way this woman was having a hold on him and he barely knew her. 

It didn’t help that he hadn’t been with a woman in a long time. He had been so focused on getting his personal life on track, it left him no room for dating. Plus the women who were interested in him were so easy and a man like Terry loved a woman who challenged him.

“You done with those?” Another man in the gym asked Terry, bringing him back to reality for a split second. 

“Yeah man, go ahead.” He responded. 

It had only been a few hours and she was invading his mind. The more he tried focusing on his workout the more he’d hear her voice and see those lips. He knew the only way to get her off his mind was to do something he hadn’t done in a while. 

“I gotta have her.” He whispered to himself. 

Next work day… 

“Ms. MacArthur, there’s an employee in your office. He didn’t say why he needed to speak to you but he didn’t look too happy.” Olivia notified her. 

Khloé rolled her eyes, hoping it wasn’t another disgruntled worker complaining about their job. “Thank you Liv.” 

She walked to her office and opened the door, noticing the back of his head first. He sat there patiently waiting for her, never turning to acknowledge her presence. 

“Mr. Richmond, I’m so happy to see you.” Khloé smiled, placing her purse on the desk. 

He eyed her, taking in her entire figure this time. She was truly an attractive woman. Her hair was pressed straight and tucked behind her ears. She wore a black and white two piece skirt set and white stilettos matching the buttons on her top. Her skin was a rich deep caramel tone that always popped when she wore her signature red lip. 

Her attire was simple yet still screamed luxury. There wasn’t anything out of place on her, everything went together so perfectly. Which is why Terry was dying to figure out why a woman like her would be offering to pay a man like him to be with her. 

“My eyes are up here Mr. Richmond.” She smirked.

He locked his eyes onto hers and remembered why he was there. “I accept.” 

Khloés lips spread into a large smile.

“Of course you d-“

“But I have a few conditions.” Terry interrupted. “I only want $10,000 for myself, the rest needs to go to my family.” 

“Your family?” 

“Yes, they need some assistance and I’d prefer to give the majority of the money to them. It’ll ease their worries and mine.”

Khloés head jerked back in disbelief. Here he was again proving himself to be a humble man. Only wanting less than half of what she was offering for himself and the rest for his family. She almost felt bad for not telling him the whole truth about this “deal”… almost. 

“Well if that’s all you wan-“ 

“Allow me to finish.” Terry cut her off, again.

His strong, authoritative voice made her pussy tingle. She squirmed in her seat and cleared her throat as she returned her attention to him. This was the first time she had actually been turned on by a hint of dominance from the opposite sex. Maybe because it wasn’t being forced. It just came natural to him. 

“I would like the check for $16,000 made out to this name and sent to this address.” Terry stated, sliding a small piece of notebook paper across the desk. 

‘Summer McBride, 555 Conner St’ 

Khloé took it and placed it into her purse for safe keep. 

“If this is going to put me in jeopardy of losing my job then tell me now because I really don’t like surprises.”

“It won’t, I promise.” 

“This needs to stay between us. I can be whoever you need me to be outside of work but when I'm here I'm just an employee, nothing more.” He stated firmly. 

They eyed each other for a few moments, almost as if they were in a standoff. Dominant vs Dominant, Alpha vs Alpha. But there could only be one and it was going to be Khloé. She took a deep breath before speaking, choosing her tone and words wisely. 

“I’m not sure if you’re aware Mr. Richmond, but I'm the one calling the shots.” She said, leaning onto her desk. 

“You asked me for my boundaries and I'm giving them to you. What's the problem?” He asked leaning forward as well, resting his arms on his knees.

She smiled, pausing to take note of this. He wasn’t going to be an easy fix but she enjoyed a “project”. She decided to let him have this round. She would get her turn eventually. 

“No problem.” She continued smiling. “Now, my rules. Rule number one, be on time! I prefer to meet at my home a few hours before we head out so that we’re clear on our attire for each event. Rule number two, no ex-girlfriends or situationships. If you have someone, call it off, I-“ 

“If I had someone, do you think I’d be sitting in your office right now?” He bluntly asked, staring blankly at her. 

He was really testing her patience, not on purpose though. However she was still taking note of it all, planning to make great use of it in the future. 

“I don’t want any women popping up here or anywhere else asking for or about you. I don’t like for anyone to have one-up on me.” She continued. “Rule number three, speak when spoken to.” 

This earned her an unpleasant look from him. 

“There will be many people at the banquet, if they don’t ask you anything then you don’t say anything. Rule number four, don’t embarrass me, ever! I don’t do well with humiliation. Lastly, rule number five, you’re mine! Which means you need to carry yourself that way. Be mindful of who you interact with and how, I’m a very observant woman.” 

Terry sat unmoved. 

“Are we clear?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Terry smirked, scoffing at her bossy attitude. He wasn’t truly buying it though, he just thought it was cute. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“I love the way you say yes ma’am, make it a habit.” 

He clenched his jaw as his dick jumped. The combination of flashbacks from the dream he had of her and the interaction he was having with her in real time was making it harder for him to remain stoic. 

“I will pay the $10,000 to you in small amounts at a time.” She started, “As long as you follow my rules, you get the payments on time. The moment you disobey me or go against our agreement, you deal with the consequences.” She was speaking to this grown ass man as if he were a child or her servant, which technically he kind of was. 

Terry still sat, this time admiring her bossiness. The way she was throwing out orders, the way she wasn’t beating around the bush or trying to cover up her controlling personality had him feening for her. And those damn lips… 

“Mr. Richmond?” She called out, snapping him out of his daze. 

“So when’s the banquet?” He asked, trying to hide the fact that he had zoned out once again. 

“Next Friday. I’ll send you my address so you can get fitted for your tux. We have a very strict dress code.” Khloé turned to her computer, before looking at him once more. “You’re dismissed.” 

Terry's lips spread into a smile as he stood up from the chair and exited the office. This was going to be a tough one but nothing he couldn’t handle… so he thought.

to be continued… 

[takes1]

heyy I must tell you all those tsukishima fics were so good😭 i used to literally log on to tumblr everyday just becausd of yoy😭 can I request a mattsun x oblivious reader?? Where he has tried multiple times to tell her thwt he likes her but something or the other happens and he can't and also thr reader has absolutely no idea that he likes her. Maybe in thr end he can be like do you not like me and stuff snd then she is so confused becsue she did not think thwt he'd like her back snd lmao they go out later

mattsun x oblivious!reader

the sheer quantity of tsukki lovers was a shock when i first started posting that old series lemme tell you. i rlly appreciate that!!

warnings. sfw, fluff

details. libero!reader / girls team!reader / mattsun fluff / aoba johsai fluff / oblivious!reader / platonic?cuddling / mattsun is always warm / giving you his jacket trope / rbf!mattsun / thinking he hates you trope / pda / 2k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests OPEN

There was only so much to be done about the bitter cold tonight. The Aoba Johsai teams had their joint biyearly dinner, but thanks to a last-minute close for renovation at your usual spot, you and at least fifteen others were stuck waiting for a reservation outside on the town square.

"Fuck-k!" Oikawa shuddered loudly, teeth chattering as he stepped out from the restaurant you were all barred from.

Somebody whined, "I just wanna sit down!"

Iwa trailed close behind, steam practically coming off of his head as he stared down at his phone. He kept his foot in the door for an older couple, sparing a passive-aggressive look at how easily they were seated.

"It'll be another 20 minutes at least," You overheard him, quiet but frothing with frustration, to your own team captain.

Only a few were properly dressed for the weather outside. It was getting darker fast, and the wind was picking up.

You were able to catch a glimpse of his phone screen. He had the estimated wait time from the restaurant's website; 5 groups were before you, but they were nowhere to be seen.

A harsh wind howled through the street and inspired you to jump behind the nearest body. You and the other liberos were lucky to have your faces protected by the gathered group of shoulders and chests, but that's where your blessings ended. Your cardigan could've been made of tissue paper, how thin it was.

The wind settled and you glanced to see who you had nestled up to- you jumped back with a muffled yelp. It went ignored because of the symphony of complaints, curses to the weather.

Matsukawa was glowering down at you. God, was he warm, but he was so mean.

He was the most unsettling member of the guys' team by far. You got along fine with everyone else, but there was some unspoken hatred in his eyes every time you had to interact with him.

He often tried to speak with you after practice, about receiving of all things, quizzing you about your methods from the games he watched or practices he caught. You didn't like how his questions were made to make you feel stupid, so you tended to keep it short with him and run away as soon as you could.

His stare was harsh and judgmental, his frown deep and unforgiving. It gave the impression that he was tearing you apart in his mind.

"Awww, (Y/n)," Your captain, whom you had backed into, put her arms around you at once.

She didn't offer as much heat as him, but it helped to make you feel safer, and wanted. You turned and pressed your face against her chest as she pulled her jacket around the both of you.

Most of the girls were huddled similarly, choice of attire more of an issue than the heavy-coated guys.

Matsukawa wore a thick, black work hoodie, nice thick pants, boots, and a utility jacket over that. You squinted, jealous and bitter, at how he wasn't shivering at all.

"Tw- t-twenty- minutes?" You shuddered against her, sniffling.

She hummed, her cold, dead fingers no help against your sides.

The wind was so strong that it stole your breath with every gust. Your ears were throbbing, your nose numb, even when another teammate joined the huddle.

Not only had you not dressed for the cold, but you didn't expect to be standing so much, so your heels were killing your feet. Another twenty minutes wasn't doable.

"Hey! There's some benches over here!" Somebody called from down the sidewalk and around the corner.

Those that knew it would take longer, especially in uncomfortable shoes, instantly started to migrate away from the door of the restaurant.

The benches were a little wet from the light drizzle earlier. It made most of your teammates hesitate to sit down, including you. You gave a dismal sniffle, completely exhausted from shivering, unable to get any colder or more glum. You peeled off your cardigan.

"Hey, wait wait-!"

"Noo!"

Your teammates gasped, grabbing at you, as you used it to wipe the bench dry.

You turned, offering them a seat, your ferocious shaking in direct contrast to the point you were trying to make.

"It- was-wasn't keeping me warm-- anyway," You struggled to declare.

The three of you sat down on the freezing metal. At least it was dry now. You stared, twitching hard, at the soggy ball in your numb fingers and tried to zone out.

Your eyes had been closed when someone big squeezed in next to you, at the end of the bench. It was too much energy to open them to see who it was.

But a heavy, warm, and cozy presence over you shocked you to open your eyes again.

"Put this on before you pass out," Matsukawa muttered, hands grabbing at the back of his own hoodie, too.

Your face would've felt warm if not for the conditions. It was already stinging, but it stung some more.

"Thank you," You shivered.

His lowered, studied stare at you as you struggled to put on his hoodie with numbed limbs made you feel like a dumbass. He probably thought you were an idiot.

His arm was so solid as he took his outer jacket back, to put it on over his long sleeve shirt. You quickly put up the plush hood and pulled the drawstrings, ears pounding at the relief of some heat.

Then his arm was back, around your shoulders, rubbing firm to get you warmed up faster.

"Thank you," You repeated, better now, and all you could possibly think to say.

When you glanced at him, you found him looking around. There was a protective air to him, like he was busy watching for something while he took care of you. He wore it well.

His hoodie smelled distinctly like him and you found that you did not mind it in the slightest. You were subtle, pulling it over your nose -breathing deep now that you weren't struggling to filter this icy cold air-, letting your body get wracked by his strong rubbing, your head steadied a little on the inside of his big shoulder. It slowly fell, heavier, on him as you learned to trust that he was being helpful.

The wind picked up again- this time you felt invulnerable to its brutality, but he squeezed his working arm into your waist and pulled you, shockingly easy, into his side with no space left between your bodies.

At this point, you were feeling guilty for enjoying it so much. There was no ounce of softness in his angry face to indicate he wanted to hold you. His nose crunched more at the wind, now that he had less layers to protect him. You could only assume he was just being chivalrous.

It made the remainder of the wait harder, in a different way.

"Oh," Iwa raised his brow at you as you passed him to go inside.

He didn't look at you for long, because he referred his gaze to Matsukawa and exchanged a smirk you couldn't see.

When you were all seated, nobody went to sit right next to you. The table was full except for the one seat while everyone filed in. At first, Watari pulled the chair out, but took one look at you and also said, "Ooh," before sitting elsewhere.

Matsukawa sat down without so much as a look at you.

Every guy at the table was looking at him, so you knew you were right about something. You just didn't know what, yet.

The whole evening, he was quiet and only spoke a few times when directly referred to. Otherwise, you felt the weight of his subtle, unwavering gaze anytime you mustered up the courage to contribute to the conversation at the table.

Surely he just wanted his hoodie back. He wore it so often, so it must have been how pitiful you looked outside to make him give it up like that.

Bellies full, bill paid, and a little more relaxed after a fun dinner out with friends despite his presence, you were all starting to leave to go home.

You stood still outside for a moment, sniffling but content, pulling up a route on your phone to walk back to the bus stop. It was a subtle way to wait for him to come out, so you could give him back his hoodie and brave the freezing journey back.

"You got somebody to walk you back?"

He leaned down to speak quietly, just to you. You watched his hand close the distance and rest on your shoulder. It made you stutter.

"Not- not officially."

Then he was walking you back to the bus stop, making a silent trek more difficult than it had to be if you had just gone by yourself. When you spared some meager glances at him, he had that same vibe about him- like he was preoccupied, displeased, and would be unpleasant if you tried to say anything.

It would be another five minutes for the bus.

He stood close to you, his arm against yours, because this bench was wet and you weren't going to repeat that mistake.

"Do you- uh," He rocked a little on his heels when you looked at him, "Do you not... like me?"

It was a staggering question. You held yourself, painfully aware that you were only standing because of his hoodie around you.

"Sure, I like you," You said in a stilted tone.

It wasn't enough and you knew it as it rolled off your tongue.

You cleared your throat. He looked away.

"I mean- I thought you hated me before today, so," You gave an empty laugh to help ease the tension.

"Hate you?" He turned towards you, hands in his pockets. It was the most emotion you had ever seen on his face.

Clearly, something was off. You squinted at him but only could hold it for a second, "Well, yeah, you're kinda... mean-,"

The shock on his face made you stumble over your words.

"But- uh, today you were so nice! Thank you, for your hoodie, that was very sweet-," You glanced around his face, confused, trailing off, "-of, you..."

He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, eyes closed, pained at your words. You felt astoundingly guilty, more cold than ever, in a way.

"I gave you my hoodie because I like you."

He put the hand back in his pocket, turning to face the street, watching the lamp posts with a forlorn air about him, "I've been tryin' to ask you out for months."

Your mouth hung open. You covered it, after a few seconds, with your hand.

Was that what all the looks meant? Was that seriously what he was getting at every time he spoke to you? Your face warmed- a welcome sensation.

"I... didn't know," You said simply, pressing up to his side.

It worked, thank god, and though it took him a second, he put a hefty arm around you.

"You were really that clueless?" He muttered, rubbing his warm face with his other hand.

The truth did feel pretty obvious in hindsight, but you reminded him, "You're more intimidating than you think."

In the quiet, the bus sighed around the corner.

"So... I can keep the hoodie?"

You looked up at him, excited at what you could see now as his nervousness. He pressed a hasty kiss to the top of your head as the bus rolled to a stop in front of you.

"Hell, yeah."

VIP

@integers @yuchacco

my masterlist. my request box.

[trendywaifus]

who would let the world burn for you? cw: yandere themes, mentions of blood and dead bodies. angst. possible oocness. gn! reader.

I LET THE WORLD BURN, I LET THE WORLD BURN FOR YOU, THIS IS HOW IT ALWAYS HAS TO END.

FIREFLY/SAM would gladly let the world burn if it guarantees your safety. you’re like an ever-lasting flame they can physically cradle in their hands; you give them hope, a purpose. what makes you think they’ll purposely snuff you out for a world—the universe who didn’t dare to show not an ounce of mercy to them?

sam gently holds you in their arms, green wings resembling flames behind their back. behind them is a vast sea of angry fire—burning buildings and corpses sam doesn’t bother to look back to as they walks away from the ruined civilization. “ sam. .” you weakly whisper, the mecha looks down. if it could frown as it scans the cuts and nasty bruises littered all over your body, they would.

“ i came here for you. “ sam says, their voice soft and full of worry reserved only for you, “ it wasn’t apart of the script but i couldn’t bear to stand by and let you do everything by yourself. i feared that you could’ve. .” a familiar feminine voice blends in with sam’s low robotic one as they trailed off.

they fall silent when your shaky hand reaches out to touch sam’s “ face “, soft orange flames sizzles out from their metal slits.

I LET THE WORLD BURN, JUST TO HEAR YOU CALLING OUT MY NAME, WATCHING IT ALL GO DOWN IN FLAMES

KAFKA would let the world burn to show you what she’s willing to do for you. she wants to see the look on your face when everything is in flames because of her.

“ k-kafka. .” you mutter, backing away in fear as she saunters closer to you, stepping over dead bodies with no regard. her velvet lips stretches into a grin, teeth baring as orange flames are reflected in her eyes, making her look menacing. “ there’s no need to look so fearful, ” she drawls, stretching her arms wide as she draws nearer and nearer. “ you know i wouldn’t dream of laying a finger on my precious doll. “

you backed up against a cracked brick wall, legs trembling as she finally in arms length. “ y-y-you, wh-wh—“ kafka chuckles, placing a gloved hand on your cheek, her pinkish purple hues stares into your own. “ use your words, darling. i’m listening. “

“ wh-why? “ you choked out, (e/c) eyes filled with tears. kafka hums, placing the other hand on your cheek, now cradling your face. “ why? it’s simple, really. you may think the reason why i’m doing this is to make you suffer or something cliche straight out of a boring hero vs villain flim. hmm, it’s none of that. “

she leans closer to your face until her lips brush against yours. “ it’s an act of love. all i did was make it dramatic, isn’t it ironic? “

I SHOULD’NT HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE, LOOK AT WHAT IT MADE ME BECOME

RUAN MEI never could understand the concept of love due to her trauma and just couldn’t emotionally grasp it. but you—you made the loose ends stretch and connect and she finally gets to have a taste of what it means to love. but soon after, things began to spiral out of control—specifically her emotions. it’s now always you, you, you on her mind. it’s frustrating because it’s making her think irrational, illogical things. so, will she let the world burn for you? yes—undoubtedly so.

ruan mei winds her slender arms around your waist, guiding you into her midst. her cool breath fans against your skin as she outlines your cheekbone with her lips. and she doesn’t stop there—no, she’s moving down to the corner of your lips, jawline, neck, and then right at a certain spot where she feels your pulse. it’s slow and steady. a hand trails up your arm and eventually three fingers press against the opposite side of your neck. a blue light and a warm tingle follows suit.

“ ruan mei, you don’t have to do all of that. i’m alive. “ you sighed. ruan mei moves back a bit to peer into your eyes, she touches your cheek. “ i’m aware. “ she says softly, contrary to the glint in her eyes, a emotion that you can’t recognize—a emotion so passionate yet ominous that it sends a chill down your spine.

“ and I’ll keep it that way. “

I LET YOU GET TOO CLOSE, JUST TO WAKE UP ALONE

AND I KNOW YOU THINK YOU CAN RUN, YOU’RE SCARED TO BELIEVE THAT I’M THE ONE

BUT I CAN’T LET YOU GO

ACHERON allowed herself to get swallowed up by the waves of love—she allowed it to rush through the cracks of her heart and fill up the emptiness within. you’ve imprinted on her soul and now she’s hopelessly devoted to you. if the world must burn for you to be by her side, so be it. the world means nothing if you’re not in it.

her white tresses flows into the wind as she calmly walks towards you. her ruby eyes settled only on you as the once blue sky is ripped apart with one clean red slash and ruins scattered everywhere behind her. “ acheron. .what have you done? “ you asked in disbelief, holding onto your shattered blade. “ what needed to be done.” acheron merely replies, snatching your forearm and pulled you into her possessive embrace.

“ you didn’t need to do this and you know it! why did you fight me to stop me?! i could of saved millions of lives if it meant giving up my own. a whole civilization is gone now! people—ch-children! “ you sobbed, pushing your palms against her shoulders to escape her hold. acheron holds you tighter into her strong body and buried her nose into the side of your neck. it’s wrong, so, so wrong for her to do something so reckless—so selfish to discard innocent life for the safety of your own. but she’s gone through enough loss and suffering and the hole in her heart is full of you—her everything. if you died, she fears that she would of. .

“ forgive me, forgive me, “ acheron mutters into your skin like a prayer, “ i’m truly a coward but i’d gladly continue to be so if i can hold you in my arms like this. “

FEAR IN THEIR EYES, ASH RAINING FROM THE BLOOD ORANGE SKY, I LET EVERYONE KNOW THAT YOU’RE MINE

jingliu is letting everything burn. you’re her beloved— she would do anything for you. her blade will cut through anything and everything, even the moon itself to prove that to you.

her glowing, red feral eyes matched the color of the sky as corpses of the cloud knights laid around her like a ritual circle. jingliu looks at you and smiles lovingly in contrast to the horrific act she’s done. “ darling, come here. “ she softly commands, lifting her hand (which is stained with the blood of many!) out to you, waiting for you to take it and join her. you shake your head with terror, your body trembling. “ n-no, jingliu. th-this is madness! “

jingliu tilts her head to the side, her expression falls expressionless. then, she takes a step towards you, her hand falling limp to her side. “ this is madness you say? how laughable, my dear, “ she lets out a breathy laugh and casts you a chilling smile. “ this is hardly anything. once i annihilate the abundance in your name, only then you can speak to me about madness.”

honorable mention

I’D LET THE WORD BURN, I’D LET THE WORLD BURN FOR YOU

STELLE intentionally and unintentionally would let the world burn for you without a doubt. she’d choose you over the world, not caring about how bad it’ll make her seem. all she’s really thinking about is you and not the full consequences of her choice. and because of the astral express, things will get complicated. ultimately, you’ll be the one to give yourself up if the situation really requires you to step up. she’ll prob need to be held back.

“ we don’t have much time, i’ll go. i’ve dropped it anyways. “ you volunteered with a heavy heart, looking back at the city covered in flames. dan heng and march quickly opens their mouth to speak but stelle beats them to it, “ no, you’re not! i-if you’re going, then i’ll go with you! “ she shouts, taking your hand into hers, “ it’s just an artifact—“

“ an artifact that is needed to save this planet and it’s not like dan heng can use his powers either because he’s just going to flood everything and march you already exhausted yourself which means i have to—“

march chimes in, “ h-hold on a minute, even i think it’s a bad idea to go back in by yourself!everything is covered with smoke and ash, there’s no way you can find it on the ground somewhere and you can’t see anything! we need to call welt and himeko—“

“ okay, you call them and i’ll go find it. i know it’s a terrible plan but we’re out of options guys. stelle. please, let go of my hand and stay with dan heng and march. “

stelle stubbornly refuses, “ no. i said i’ll go with you so i am. if you think you’re going to go by yourself then you’re absolutely silly. if it was my choice, i wouldn’t let you go at all. “

your brows furrow with frustration, “ no, you’re being silly, stelle. look—we don’t have time to argue! you’re not going with me! “ without thinking, you jabbed your fist hard into her stomach, causing her to gasp and kneel over in pain. she still holds onto your hand but you hastily break free from her weakened grip. “ i have to go! dan heng! hold stelle back if she tries to follow me! give me 5 minutes tops, i’ll come back! promise! “ you dash towards the burning city, covering your nose in search of finding the lost artifact.

“ no! “ she screams horsely as she watches your figure run further and further away and eventually disappear into the sea of smoke. although in pain, stelle attempts to get back up and run after you. dan heng swiftly restrain her. “ l-let me go, dan heng! can’t you see what’s they’re doing?! it should of been me! no, not even me—the world should just burn! “ she screams at the top of her lungs, tears rolling down her cheeks.

[blxxdsex]

"The genius, Michael Gavey." - Michael Gavey x Reader.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, masturbation, foul language, loss of virginity, cum control.

English is not my first language, so I hope you will forgive me if there are any mistakes.

It’s not as if anyone’s queuing up to see what’s behind those smudged glasses or that same red sweater he pulls on every Monday. And that's fine. Honestly, it is. He's made peace with it. It’s their loss, isn’t it? That's the mantra he clings to, the thread keeping his fragile ego intact: They're the ones missing out. And God, doesn’t he need to believe it.

Michael’s good at a lot of things, and he knows it. Brilliant, really. Genius, if we're being honest. Maths? Please—he’s never even touched a calculator. Numbers are his domain, his sanctuary, the one place where he feels entirely at ease. Books too—though never fantasy; he’d rather lose himself in something real, something concrete. But everything else? Social skills? A complete disaster, really. Painful to watch.

When you arrived in Oxford, it hit him hard. Why? Because even when he was buried in the silence of the library, there you were, watching him. Always watching. Maybe intending to read a book—upside down, no less—or lounging with your legs thrown over a table, headphones blaring as if you couldn't care less about the world around you.

Michael Gavey isn't used to being seen. For fuck’s sake, he’s Michael Gavey. Nobody. Invisible, as he’s always preferred. But then you came along, and suddenly, invisibility wasn't an option. You became something else entirely: a problem, a distraction, a bloody nuisance he couldn’t seem to get rid of. And maybe, deep down, that’s what scared him most.

So, naturally, his response was to start staring back. Maybe if he leaned into being a proper weirdo, you’d back off. But no, of course not. You didn't flinch. You just stared right back, unwavering, unbothered. It didn't take long for one of the teachers to step in, warning him, of all people, to knock it off. And you? You just smiled. Smiled like you'd won some secret, twisted game, baring all your teeth like a predator who'd just cornered its prey.

When he squinted at you, furrowing his eyebrows in some attempt to decode whatever the hell was going on, you simply glanced at the table, still grinning like you had a secret you were dying to keep.

What was your problem? Were you planning something? Was there a game being played here, something sinister he couldn’t quite see? The questions clawed at him, gnawed at his focus, and yet, no answers came. Only that smile. God, he hated it.

Things weren't improving, no, they were deteriorating rather quickly. And it all took a turn for the bizarre when, in the dead of night, he awoke still half hard, with his shorts drenched in cum and his mind? Cluttered with vivid memories of a particular dream from the previous night. Never had he scrubbed a piece of clothing with such fury in his life; this treacherous body was doing him in. And the most egregious part? His cock was a bloody jest, because even after such mortification, he had to wank off once more just to make the torment subside.

That day, the Oxford corridors felt like they were smoldering beneath him, each step fueling the inferno inside his chest. His sneakers might as well have been on fire for how much he burned with rage. And then he saw you, loitering by your locker, looking infuriatingly calm as always. It was like you wanted to drive him insane.

He stormed over, slamming your locker shut with a single hand, his nostrils flaring like he was ready to tear you apart—not literally, of course. Well, maybe a little. He was unraveled, utterly tormented, and you? You were only making it worse.

“Stop.” The word came out flat, almost pitiful, his voice cracking under the weight of his irritation. His blue eyes, usually so sharp, were clouded and bloodshot, as if they’d been scorched by his fury.

“With what?” you asked, tilting an eyebrow, that insufferable smirk tugging at your lips. Carefree. Effortless. It made his teeth grind in pure frustration. He didn’t even understand why he felt so unhinged—just that he did.

“What the hell do you want?” he barked, his voice echoing down the corridor. Heads turned, a few people pausing to glance at the scene, but you didn't so much as flinch. No fear, no embarrassment. You just leaned lazily against your locker, staring at him down like you had all the time in the world.

“Your number, to start with, would be great.” The words hit him like a physical blow. His pupils dilated so fast it felt like the world had tilted. If darkness swallowed everything right then and there, he was convinced he’d still see you.

And that’s when everything shifted. You weren’t messing with him—not in the way he’d thought. No, you were interested in him. The realisation hit Michael like a slap, and even then, his perpetually self-loathing brain struggled to piece it all together. For once, his stupid mind was just that: stupid.

But then the messages started, tentative at first, and something clicked. You actually got on—really got on. It was strange, almost unnerving, how much you seemed to have in common. You liked some of the same nerdy things as him, and he found himself listening to bands he’d previously written off because you mentioned them. Slowly, the conversations moved out of his phone and into the library, where you started sitting at the same table.

People noticed, of course. Curious glances trailed after the two of you, some even daring to linger when Michael—Michael Gavey, of all people—was caught smiling. Not a smirk or a grimace, but an actual smile, albeit half-hidden behind his hand. But it was there, and for once, he didn’t mind. Not entirely.

And then, on a Friday night when everything seemed eerily serene, the text message arrived. 'Do you want to come to my dorm?' Panic ensued. Perhaps it's a tad presumptuous to assume you want to fuck him, isn't it? Yet, he was presuming precisely that. But the truth is, Michael has only kissed one girl in his entire life; otherwise, his knowledge comes from pornography, books about the human anatomy, and the hushed conversations in the men's locker room. And it's not that he didn't want to; in fact, he wanted to, desperately so, but the truth was that no one seemed sufficiently captivated to offer him the chance. But you, you were offering. Maybe. What does one do with that?

He took a shower, donned his usual jeans and a white shirt, slipped on his sneakers, and even spent time before the mirror wrestling with his blond hair, to little avail, of course. He decided he wouldn't be a coward; he had this chance, maybe, and he wouldn't squander it with timidity. He made his way to the girls' dorm on campus, garnering more than a few disdainful looks from the passing girls. It was just because it was him; if it were Felix sneaking in, they'd be all smiles. But who cares? There was only one person he hoped would truly appreciate his presence. He reached your door, his breath caught in his throat, and knocked so feebly that perhaps he thought you wouldn't even hear. Pathetic, honestly.

But you heard him, and when you opened the door, he froze for a moment. You'd just taken a shower; your skin was still slightly flushed from the hot water, wearing an oversized shirt, once black but now faded to grey, and some pajama shorts that honestly looked more like his underwear than actual shorts. He swallowed hard, managing a crooked smile. You leaned against the doorframe, your smile much more genuine.

"You came." The words slipped from your lips with such ease, rolling off your tongue with a genuine satisfaction that straightened his crooked smile.

"Yeah, well. It's not like I have anything better to do, of course." His reply lacked the sharpness he'd rehearsed in his mind, accompanied by a glance at the floor and a stupid, silly smile.

"Yeah, of course." You laughed, rolling your eyes, and turned your body to give him space to enter, if he wanted to, though he looked as if he might bolt at any second.

But he didn't run away; no, he actually stepped inside. The room was like most others, yet he was struck by how orderly it was. Like any typical dorm, there was the TV, the two single beds, a small table, and in the corner of an adjacent smaller room, the bathroom. The scent of cleaning products lingered, indicating you'd taken the time to tidy up before inviting him over. This shouldn't have pleased him as much as it did, but it did.

"Just take off your sneakers before you lay on the bed," you said with that nonchalant tone of yours, picking up the TV remote from the table.

He glanced at the paused movie on the screen before turning his attention to the bed. His mind wasn't exactly racing as he sat down, beginning to untie his sneakers, but his focus soon shifted to the side of your face. He was transfixed by how your hair framed your features, how your lips were so perfectly shaped, and how your eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. He had to run a hand over his face, nearly knocking off his glasses, to bring himself back to reality, blinking several times to refocus on removing his sneakers.

"I chose 'Evil Dead,' but they didn't have the classics." Your voice drew his gaze upward again. You casually made your way to the bed beside him, practically throwing yourself down, causing the mattress to bounce. "Is that a problem for you?" you asked, turning to look at him, your eyes locking with his.

His throat visibly tightened as he swallowed, while you didn't even blink. For a moment, he found it a rather amusing jest. What could a girl like you, with the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, with lips that curved into the brightest smile he could imagine, possibly want with him? He was either the luckiest bastard in the world or the biggest delusional of the year. But that was fine, at least for now.

"No, it's not a problem at all," Michael mumbled, unsure if he was referring to the movie choice or something else entirely. But it would suffice either way.

He saw you smile widely, and you felt you should, noticing his blue eyes dilate behind his glasses. Looking down where you had crossed your legs beneath you, you tried to focus and simply pressed play on the movie. The low noise from the TV soon filled the room, the colors of the film painting your faces and reflecting in Michael's glasses. The silence was comfortable, as always. The sounds of calm breathing filled the space, but well, his eyes weren't really on the TV; they were on you. To the point where he had to rest his hand on his face, just to appreciate it, perhaps.

"You know, watching a movie works better when you're looking at the screen," you commented, your eyes still fixed on the screen, though you felt the heat from his gaze on your cheek.

"I prefer to watch you." His words were barely above a whisper, but they reached you, making your smile widen even more.

Your eyes flicked to him, while his remained steady, though he felt his palms sweating against his cheek. He was nervous, and his attempt at an impassive expression wasn't fooling you. The words that left his lips were just truths, and seeing you smile, it was good to see you smile, it brought a subtle curve to his own lips. Sighing, you drew your knees up to your chest, resting your chin there, unsure of what to make of his words or of him. Just as he was unsure of what to make of you or how much you unsettled him.

"I hate almost everyone here except you." Your words mirrored his in tone, quiet, perhaps too intimate to slip out.

They made him pause, just looking at you, wondering. Time seemed to stand still, the screams from the movie not reaching your ears; things were quiet, almost silent. And that's when his hand rose, wrapping around the back of your neck, perhaps with the most courage he'd ever mustered in his life. Your lips parted slightly when you noticed him shifting on the bed to get closer, and you responded in kind, leaning towards him, your hand hesitating before also reaching up to the back of his neck, slipping between the golden strands to hold him firmly. Bringing your faces close, your breaths began to mingle, and soon all that was reflected in his glasses were your lips, all his attention focused solely on them.

"You're trouble, and you want to know why?" Michael whispered, your gaze falling to his lips as they formed the words. They were thrown at your face, raw and direct. "Because it seems like after I met you, there's been something wrong with my brain." He lifted his thumb to trace your bottom lip, as if to commit it to memory.

"Yeah?" Your response lacked strength, not truly. "That's good, because it seems like after you I'll never be the same." Whispering another confession, now it seemed more than fitting, even with your breathing too rapid to say much more, or what you truly wanted to.

A faint smile touched Michael's lips, perhaps an attempt at composure before he leaned in closer. Tilting your heads in opposite directions, your noses brushed against each other, the taste of each other's breath mingling on your lips, shared. His lips were the first to part, capturing your lower one slowly, almost tentatively, until yours responded, capturing his upper lip. The kiss started slowly, your lips moving together with an unhurried grace, despite your quickening breaths at the contact. His free hand found your waist, attempting to pull you closer, while your hand tangled in his hair, gripping it almost in a fist.

But it wasn't enough, far from it. Leaning forward, Michael guided you both down onto the bed, supporting himself with each hand on either side of your head, positioning his body between your legs, which parted to welcome him. One of his hands slid down to your thigh, lifting it and pressing it against his side, your hips naturally seeking each other, and his already hardened cock brushed against your increasingly aroused intimacy. Sounds escaped between kisses, your hands sliding to grip his back, when Michael pressed your bodies together again, rolling his hips and drawing out a sly moan from his own lips, making it difficult to continue kissing you.

Your hands reached for the hem of his shirt, attempting to pull it up, but his hands caught yours, pinning them above your head, fingers intertwining there, as he pulled back just enough to look you squarely in the eye. His heavy breathing made his chest rise and fall, sweat causing his glasses to slide down his nose.

"I..." the words seemed reluctant to escape as he gazed down at you, your lips flushed and your chest heaving. He didn't want to dissuade you, but he had to say it. "I've never done that."

Your only response was to lift your head from the bed, seeking his lips and succeeding in a gentle capture, with him lowering himself to return the kiss. Though not deep, your teeth nipped at his lower lip, tugging gently, perhaps trying to draw him closer. Your fingers pressed against his above your head, yearning to be free, you just wanted to touch him, feel him, it didn't matter if he was inexperienced, if you had to guide him step by step, or if this was all you would have, feeling him like this above you.

"Just touch me, I don't care," you murmured against his lip, without the strength for more words, which in response prompted him to roll his hips against yours again, closing his eyes with a moan, just as your head tilted back, lifting your hips to meet his movement.

His hands released yours, and you quickly grabbed his shirt, pulling it up and off him, and he reciprocated, lifting yours inch by inch until he could pull it over your head. Without a bra, your breasts were bared to him, making him pause. His lips went dry as he took in the sight of your hardened nipples, ready for attention, despite his momentary hesitation. You saw it in his eyes, in how they flickered to meet yours, and your hand reached to caress his cheek before grabbing the back of his neck, gently guiding him toward your chest, arching off the bed to ensure he understood your consent.

And he understood more than clearly, leaning down to kiss the space between your breasts before moving to one, enveloping it with his mouth entirely, using his hand to squeeze it firmly. The sensation of your skin against his mouth elicited a low sound from him that vibrated through your body, prompting you to grind your hips against his already hard cock. His tongue followed, swirling around your nipple, sucking as if his life depended on it. His mouth salivated, saliva running down your chest, glistening your skin with his essence. His free hand went to your other breast, squeezing it tightly, his lips trailing kisses to the other side, his tongue sliding along until it reached your other nipple, circling it with fervent enthusiasm.

"Fuck," you murmured, your intimacy throbbing, squeezing as you leaned on the bed to create friction against his erection, making him to bite the nipple in his mouth to stifle a loud moan.

His lips left your chest, observing the glistening, swollen flesh from his attentions. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight, going straight to his core. He looked down to where his hardness met your shorts, stopping himself from climaxing right there, taking deep breaths.

"Tell me..." his words trailed off, his lips struggling to draw in breaths. "Tell me how to be good for you." His whisper was broken, he was too far gone to really care about it.

You smiled, even in the throes of your overwhelming need for him. One of your hands took one of his, slowly guiding it to your core, and he watched intently as you slipped it inside your shorts and soaked panties, biting his lip as his expression contorted with pleasure. Slowly, you positioned his fingers perfectly over your clit, starting to move them in circles, making your breathing quicken further. Fortunately, Michael was a quick learner, or perhaps just desperate enough. Your fingers left his as he took over, moving them faster, circling over your soaked clit. You tried to reach for his hardness in his pants, but with his free hand, he caught yours and pinned it to the bed.

"Don't." The words came out swiftly, a desperate command because he knew well that if you touched him, he would cum right then and there.

You accepted it, not attempting to touch him again. Feeling his fingers slide over and over your most sensitive spot, the sounds began to fill the room, the wetness so intense it seeped through your pajama shorts, and he could hardly believe his incredible luck. His eyes moved to your face, noticing your parted lips, your cheeks flushed red, and your breasts, still glistening from his saliva, seeming to beckon him. One of your hands gripped his wrist, and he could see from your expression how close you were. The hand that had been holding yours to the bed released it, moving to the back of your neck, lifting your head to make you look down.

"Watch," he murmured, sliding his thumb perfectly over your clit, and you felt like stars were bursting behind your eyes even as you complied and stared.

You saw his hand moving inside your shorts, the veins in his forearm pulsing with the effort, the muscles there flexing. His hand held you tightly, almost encompassing your neck. And when his fingers started moving side to side, you knew you were finished. Your lips parted completely, a groan trapped in your throat escaped, you tried to throw your head back but his grip prevented it, and then, your walls clenched, he could feel the pulsing around his fingers, your belly flexing as you reached your climax, clamping your legs around his forearm.

Your body goes limp on the bed, your thighs still trembling as his hands slide from your neck down to your thighs, smearing his taste there. He grips the hem of your shorts, pulling them down along with your panties. When his eyes meet your pulsing, glistening pussy, a sigh escapes him, eyes closing momentarily to regain control. You hear the sound of his pants being unzipped, him kicking them off along with his underwear. Your eyes open just in time to see him grip the base of his cock, bringing the head to your sensitive clit, eliciting a tight, desperate moan from you.

"You're so beautiful." he murmurs, dragging the precum-slick tip of his cock across your clit, making your walls clench as he watches. His free hand runs down the inside of your thighs, ensuring they're coated in your own wetness.

He squeezes his eyes shut in pure ecstasy, rubbing his cock from your clit to your entrance, gripping the base tightly to stave off his climax. Your thighs tremble, your hands gripping the sheets, but nothing seems to alleviate the intensity, there's no escape. You're consumed, completely. Your hips start to move desperately for contact, even as your body protests, your fingers threatening to tear the sheets apart. He rubs once more, the almost sinful sounds echoing off the walls, mingling with his low moans and the contractions of his stomach. You can tell he's doing everything in his power not to cum.

"Can I?" He opens his eyes to whisper, looking directly into yours, and with no strength left to speak, you simply nod.

He sighs deeply before positioning himself at your entrance and pushing inside, feeling your walls resist yet yield as he presses in until fully seated, your groins meeting. A drawn-out moan escapes your lips as his head falls back, a soft groan leaving his throat followed by a sequence of breaths that made his entire body tremble. Michael pauses, trying and failing to calm his racing heart and the overwhelming sensation of your hot, tight insides. Leaning forward, he rests one hand on the bed while the other removes his glasses, setting them aside. Your hands rise to the back of his neck, bringing his forehead to yours, holding it there as he makes the first thrust. Both of your lips part, your moans and breaths mingling.

His thrusts were deep, yet slow. He would withdraw almost completely before sliding back in, each time making your eyes squeeze shut tighter and your head press against his. The sweat on your foreheads seemed to meld you together, turning you into one entity. His eyes opened, burning into your face, and you met his gaze, your eyes filling with tears of pure pleasure as he thrust even deeper.

"I like you," he murmurs, cupping your cheek as his other hand grips the headboard, making the wood creak. A smile graces your lips, almost cut off by his cock sliding in deeper.

"I like you too," you manage to reply between ragged breaths, your fingers tightening around the back of his neck as if it's your lifeline.

He brings his lips to your forehead, giving you a long, lingering kiss, his breath warm against your skin. Then, he brings his hand to your mouth, and with that signal, he starts thrusting with all he has, making you scream into his hand, which hopefully muffles the sound. He rests his own mouth there to also muffle his moans, feeling sweat run down every part of his body, mixing with yours. The bed bangs against the wall, your eyes roll back when he hits that sweet spot inside you, your hands lifting to dig your nails into his back. As your walls clench around him, he feels your climax spill out, soaking the sheets and his lower abdomen. With a louder moan, he quickly pulls out, his cock spilling his cum over your belly.

He releases your mouth and the headboard, letting his full weight rest on you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck. Your arms encircle his neck, keeping him close as your entire body trembles with the aftershocks of pleasure. Both of you are exhausted, both satisfied. Michael's thoughts drift back to the early weeks of knowing you, how he wished you would vanish, and now, how he dreads the thought of you leaving, like everyone else. The irony might have drawn a bitter laugh from him if he weren't so physically spent.

"I wasn't bluffing," you hear him murmur into your neck, capturing your attention amidst the sensations still coursing through your body. You slowly turn your head towards him.

"What?" you whisper, perhaps fearful that even a slight increase in volume might make this moment slip away, just as much as he is. His eyes, those blues that most people overlook, capture your senses.

"I really like you." Hearing those words again, this time not in the heat of the moment, did something different to you stomach, perhaps quickened your heart more than the entire act itself, burned your skin more than anything else.

Drawing him closer with your hand, you adjust his position so he lies on your chest, where he places a gentle kiss. Your fingers delve into his hair, and you cast a brief glance to the side where his glasses still rest. A smile graces your lips because the truth is, you are utterly and hopelessly in love with the genius Michael Gavey. The irony is that he doesn't seem genius enough to realize it.

[bri-cheeses]

| August 2 | Prompt: Fist | Word Count: 620 | @rosekillermicrofic | tw: fighting |

-

“Lockheart.”

“Eight of ten. Smash.”

“Jones.”

“Pass, hard pass.”

Avery snickered at Mulciber’s frank analysis. Barty tried his hardest to ignore their crude conversation, but it was rather difficult when they had set up their potion right next to him and were not at all bothering to keep their voices low. And it was especially difficult when Rosie wasn’t next to him to keep him company, seeing as he was off in France visiting some far-off relation. Even just thinking about going a full week without Evan made Barty want to punch something, so he pushed that thought away and focused on the task at hand.

Next to him, Mulciber was waiting for Avery’s laughter to die out. Once it finally did—having lasted way too long in the first place—Mulciber demanded, “‘Kay, give me another one.”

Avery was silent for a second, no doubt thinking of other people he could try. Barty could hear the grin in his voice as he landed on his target.

“Rosier,” he said, and Barty’s head snapped up. They had better not be talking about—

“Which one?” Mulciber smirked. “The girl’s not bad, but Evan?” He whistled lowly. “I’ll tell you what, that backside is something. Hell yeah, nine out of ten, I’d tap that.”

Barty’s ingredient vials crashed to the ground as he lunged for Mulciber, who barely even saw it coming. He only had time to widen his eyes in fear before Barty’s fists were upon him, completely and absolutely intent on tearing him apart limb by limb.

“Shut up, you ugly, good for nothing, absolute waste of a human being—”

Barty was yanked back from his assault by strong arms. He lashed out immediately, not caring who was holding him because Mulciber was right there and he was still breathing despite Barty’s best efforts, and that should be illegal because he had just used his filthy mouth to talk about Evan, Barty’s Evan, and that was absolutely vile and horrible and—

“Barty,” Dorcas grunted, and some of the fight left him. No matter how furious he was, he wouldn’t hurt Dorcas, one of his best friends. So he slumped into Dorcas’s arms and settled for glaring at Mulciber and Avery. He spat at their feet.

“You don’t talk about my Rosie like that, ever,” he snarled. “Or else I’ll make sure you never speak again.”

“And I’d help him,” Dorcas asserted from behind him. A sick sort of smile twisted onto his face from knowing that his friends were out for Mulciber’s head, too. If he could see himself right now, he had the feeling that he’d probably have that slightly unhinged glint in his eye he sometimes saw when he looked in the mirror. But he didn’t really care, not when Mulciber had thought he was allowed to go around saying things like that.

Barty kicked in Mulciber’s direction one last time for good measure, then growled, “And as for your eyes, don’t think I won’t cut them out of your skull if I catch you looking at him the wrong way.”

“Mr. Crouch!” Slughorn exclaimed, having finally made his way over the where they were standing. It had taken him awhile, seeing as he had initially cowered behind his desk in fear, but now he was here and proving to be quite meddlesome already.

Barty bared his teeth at him in an approximation of a smile. Slughorn’s expression morphed into something more like fear, which Barty smiled even wider at.

When Slughorn spoke, it was with a little tremor in his voice.

“Detention, young man. From five to nine for the entirety of next week.”

Dorcas sucked in a sharp breath at the verdict, but Barty just grinned.

“Worth it,” he said, meaning every last word.

-

[gothlcsan]

teasing your streamer boyfriend, beomgyu on stream

a drabble 𝜗𝜚 smut 𝜗𝜚 wc 784 𝜗𝜚 non idol puppy ! gyu

a/n he’s legitimately so adorable, i adore him so much. he’d make the cutest gamer boyfriend to ever exist, truly. Not proofread but wanted this thought out of my head.. 🐶🩷

please reblog + send requests for more ! x ♡

Beomgyu had already been streaming for several hours prior to you getting off work. Deciding to click open his stream while riding the bus home you smile as he excitedly jumps around after receiving a watermelon on the new game he’s been streaming. Something about seeing your boyfriend so excited over his game, baggy clothes, and bare face in full view made you want to climb onto his lap and kiss him until your heart popped. You know his body like the back of your hand, how his back arches and his chest bumps into yours when you grind against his lap or how his moans get higher from you pulling his ear between your teeth. No one knows he grew out his hair not because he liked you putting bows in it for streams, but the painful pleasure of you curling your fingers around the soft locks and yanking him around. Holding him down by the hair as you ride his cock milking him for all he’s worth. His eyes welling up with tears because he wants to cum but you’re so tight, so warm, he doesn’t want to stop not even when you tell him to cum for you.

You look so pretty today, bomi.

Beomgyu glances at the chat, seeing the chat go crazy, flooding his screen.

“Why is everyone talking- oh,” you smile as Beomgyu blushes pink. “Hi, baby.”

You ponder on if you should leave it at that and privately text him but something about teasing him in front of his chat made you shiver with purpose.

No bow today?

“No, you weren’t home to help me. Are you on your way home?” Beomgyu laughed, shaking his head.

Why? Miss me that badly?

The chat teases Beomgyu calling him a clingy puppy as he tries to deny it, covering his face in embarrassment, pulling his legs to his chest. You smirk, taking a break from the stream long enough to climb off the bus and start making your way down the street to your apartment complex. Beomgyu was still trying to deny the fact he was clingy, apparently he didn’t mind the puppy part you thought to yourself.

Bomi, don’t lie to your viewers!

You teased him, not waiting for his reaction as you locked your phone, quietly entering the apartment. Taking your shoes off and placing your bag onto the couch, you shimmy off your coat before silently making your way towards the bedroom. His gaming room was next door so you made it a mission to quietly rummage through the closet until you grabbed a collar. It was a pretty faint pink, adorned with a matching colored bow and silver bell in the front. You held it by the bell to ensure it didn’t give you away, closing both the closet and bedroom door as you stepped back onto the hallway. Knowing he had his headset back on thanks to the stream, you knew his cutely oblivious self wouldn’t realize you were coming in, still choosing to be quiet. Once you’re in view, just on the edge of the video, you place your forefinger to your lips to signal the chat to not let your presence be known. Most listen, others telling Beomgyu there’s a ghost behind him thankfully he’s preoccupied with the game to notice the chat.

Once you’re directly behind Beomgyu in full view for the chat, you lean down and smile, wrapping the collar around Beomgyu’s throat. He jumps. Hard.

“When the fuck did you come in?” He screamed as he ripped off the headset, clenching his chest as he dramatically turned to catch his breath.

You can’t help but laugh at his scared reaction, ruffling his hair once he turns back to face his computer and monitors.

“To be fair, chat did tell you to turn around. I came in a few minutes ago, so not too long.”

Beomgyu uses his feet to roll his chair closer to you, placing his face into your stomach, calling you mean as you rubbed his back, having to hold back your laughter.

“Everyone, I’m going to steal Bomi away now, okay? Need to make sure he’s okay.” You said with a smile, the chat saying bye and giggling knowing exactly what you meant. Ending the stream and turning the camera off, you leaned down to kiss Beomgyu against his lips.

“Let me make it up to you, puppy.”

Beomgyu’s eyes lighting up both from the nickname and idea of “comfort”, he follows close behind as you redirected him to the bedroom, not wasting a moment before he’s riding your lap with his hands shaking against your stomach.

Such a pretty puppy for you to tease.

[mydarlingclaudia]

she’s demonic and bloody, but she holds me tight

note : divider is from @/cafekitsune. this fix does have dark content in it if you don’t wanna read I understand <3 I also wrote this based off the song In My Room by Insane Clown Posse. I also got kinda in the flow when I was writing this idk if it really fits the song but I like how this turned out but the end is like really really rushed bc I didn’t know what to do :)

wc : 2.9k

tags : @withonly-sweetheart @rigorwhoring @cigarett3wif3 @bonesnplywood

desc : a college kid with a social life that's almost non-existent figures the dead girl that comes to his room every night is his girlfriend, some say that's a bad thing, he says it's everything he could wish for. who cares, anyway? it's not hurting anyone! well, not yet, at least. there's an endless list of things he'd do for you, you don't even have to ask. but why won't you come back after he takes care of a problem that would have torn you away from him? you love him, right? not-really established relationship (idk how to explain it), a bit suggestive, Leon is kinda gross, necrophilia, gore, au, fem!reader, re2r!Leon

back to the party <3

“You gonna let me in…?” Your voice is muffled from the glass pane of Leon’s window, chipped fingernails tapping against the surface. Of course he’s gonna let you in, when was the last time he had ignored you? You’ve completely fucked over his sleep schedule, you’re too good to turn down.

He’s lucky that he has the whole house to himself, it’s been like this since he started college, even if anyone is there, you’re always quiet. Leon was lucky enough to have some rich uncle that pitied him after the death of his parents and gifted his summer house to Leon so he could stay there for college. He doesn’t talk to a lot of people, he’s got a few friends around campus and he tutors the kid next door, but outside of that he’s alone, no one comes over outside of family.

You came along about halfway through his sophomore year of college, he was scared of you at first, who wouldn’t be scared when you wake up to a corpse knocking on your window? But he gave you a chance, best decision he’s made in years.

You… were something special. Not a zombie, Leon’s sure you would’ve cracked his skull open and torn his brain apart with your teeth by now if you were, he would’ve let you.

You poor thing, your boyfriend killed you when you tried to break up with him in your senior year of college, Leon must’ve been seventeen when it happened, it had been all over the news. Leon’s not sure why you came to him, you never told him, there are a lot of things you don’t tell him, he’s not sure where you go when the sun rises, either. But you’re the best part of his days, the lamp in his room is always on at night just so you know he’s home. He hasn’t even gone out to any parties because he doesn’t want to miss a visit from you, hardly even stays out past ten if he ever does manage to get out of the house.

“Leon, I can see you.” Your voice is a bit harsher, your palm comes down against his window and Leon finally tears himself from his homework, spinning around in his chair to smile at you.

He stands from his chair and takes a few steps to his window, it’s never locked, it doesn’t even have the screen anymore, he just has to open it for you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The smile that immediately blooms on your face makes his whole month, Leon offers his hand out to you to help you climb into his room, your rough, cold palm slides against his, you stumble slightly. Leon’s hands soon find their way to your sides, his face almost hurts from how much he’s grinning.

“Hey,” Your voice is always raspy, it’s prettier than any song he’s ever heard. You always wrap your arms around him when he welcomes you in, this time is no different, one of his hands take place on your lower back, the other on the back of your neck over your matted hair.

“It’s cold out, do you want a sweatshirt?” He knows you don’t need one, but he’s been dying to see you in one of his favorite hoodies, he doesn’t even care if you get dirt all over it. You just shake your head and bury your face in the crook of his neck, he chuckles. “I gotta do some homework, do you want to sit with me?” You nod again and unravel your arms from around him, he pulls up his chair again to sit and pull you down onto his lap.

You love this, you crave this, found a way to weasel your way into this life even after death. You really weren’t trying to go for Leon, the night you emerged from your grave you just stumbled down the street, looking for a light in the window, you don’t know why. The only light on had been Leon’s, he was pretty enough, at least he didn’t call the cops when you climbed up the tree in front of his window and started knocking.

He loves you, you know it. You don’t know how or why, but God, do you love this feeling. You’re able to pretend for a few hours that you’re back to being a normal college girl, that your blood still runs through your veins and your boyfriend didn’t go nuts and stab you. You love him too, you guess.

You even help him with homework and projects sometimes since you took those same classes, you always hated it when you were in school, but you had a cheat sheet for half the shit Leon brings back from class in the back of you brain, why are you even able to remember that? Leon always holds you as close as possible, you're not really sure how he can stomach having you so close all the time, you knew he'd have you naked more often than not if you would let him see you like that, the closest he's even gotten to seeing you like that is when you took off your dress so he could stitch up the re-opening stab wounds that were scattered across your abdomen.

But he loves it, for some reason. He doesn't mind how rough your skin feels and how tight it is against your rotting muscles, doesn't get weirded out when he plucks a bug from your hair, somehow Leon loves when the two of you make out.

It’s a win-win, Leon gets you, you get Leon. He buys you cute things, short skirts, pretty tops, you play dress up for a few hours before you pull the blue dress you were buried in back on and leave for the day, just to come back and do it again the next night. He’s got a dresser drawer full of girly clothes that you only wear sometimes, he’s lucky he never has friends over.

Don’t even mentions the hickeys he lets you leave on his neck, those are the things his friends see and tease him about, interrogating him about who his secret girlfriend is. You don’t think he minds, he’s never complained when you sink your teeth into his throat and suck and bite until the blood vessels under his skin start to pop. Leon does the same to you, anyway, it’s only fair.

Leon doesn’t like when you’re in the house but not with him, if you get up to go wash the dirt off your skin in the shower, he trails after you and sits on the sinks countertop until you’re done. He’d join you if you let him.

Leon will never tell you this or even ask, but he wonders if you died a virgin. I mean, there’s no way, right? You were so pretty, alive or dead, he’d be lying if he said that he never thought about having sex with you. Who wouldn’t think about that? Theres no judgement from him if you’re a virgin or not, but maybe one day you’ll take his virginity. Maybe? He’ll take the dry humping for now and keep his hopes up.

Outside of wanting to have sex with you, Leon loves to hold you. You fit on his lap perfectly and your face always finds a way to the nape of his neck, you always cling to him like your limbs are still stiff and tight from rigor mortis and you’ll take him back to your grave with you.

—

You’re back again, shocking. Leon’s got you on his lap with your chest pressed to his, his fingers dig into the cold flesh of your thighs to slowly rock you against him as you nip at his lips whenever you pull away from one of your heated kisses, barely giving him time to breathe.

You have to leave soon and Leon has to start his day, the most sleep he gets is four or five hours the second he gets back from school, you come around midnight, who needs sunlight? He doesn’t spend most of his days out and you never do, Leon could live in total darkness and be fine with it so long as you stay.

Leon’s shaking a tiny bit underneath you, it’s always like this when you slip your tongue a bit further past his lips, you can’t taste anything but Leon loves the way you taste, good thing he’s not vegan. Though, Leon can’t really focus on kissing you back, you feel more tense than normal, your voice sounds choked when you talk now.

Reluctantly, he pulls away from you and you huff. Leon’s hands instead move up to your hips, stopping his rocking.

“You okay?” You nod.

You’re not really okay, you were trying to avoid Leon asking you this because you knew he’d react badly. The kid he tutors next door saw you walk down the street, you even fucking made eye contact with the kid and kept walking until you were at the tree in Leon’s yard. You didn’t know if he was gonna tell anyone or just try to ignore you, play it off as a drunk girl not knowing what she’s doing. But you knew he’d tell Leon the next day, Leon always told you the kid liked to gossip. Even if the kid didn’t talk, you probably shouldn’t come back, at least for a little while.

“Sweetheart,” His hands squeeze your hips, you sigh and sit up straight. “What’s wrong?”

“I- that uhm, the kid next door… H-he saw me.” Leon’s eyes widen and his hands grip you harder, it doesn’t hurt but you feel his fingernails dig into your skin.

“What?” You’ve never heard his voice so flat, you chew on your bottom lip and look away from him. “He saw you?”

“Leon, he knows.”

“What? He can’t know, it’s not like… It’s not like it’s obvious that you’re dead.”

“Leon, be serious, it’s weird enough to see someone stumbling into your neighbors yard in the dark, but when they look like they’re fucking dead then that’s something else.”

“Baby-“

“He’s gonna tell someone.”

“He won’t,” A dry, humorless chuckle comes from his mouth, he shakes his head. “He’s not gonna care, the worst that’s gonna happen is he’s gonna tease me.”

“Yeah? What if he tells his parents? What if he tells his friends? Then what? He’s like, what, twenty? He doesn’t care if you ask him not to talk about it.”

“We’re gonna be fine,” His hand comes up to your face, brushing over your bottom lip and pulling you back down to his slowly. “Why would he give a shit?”

“I’m not gonna come back for while.” You announce, stopping a few inches from his face. You don’t want to talk about this anymore, you just need to do your own thing, you have all the time in the world to wait and let this simmer down. If Leon loves you, then he’ll wait, too.

“What?!” Leon bolts up, pushing you up with him. “No, no, no, no, you don’t gotta like, leave leave, okay? I’ll- I’ll take care of it, I’ll talk to him. Baby, please.”

“I don’t know, Leon.”

“We’re gonna be alright, I promise.” He kisses you again and your shoulders tense. “Okay?”

“… The sun will be up soon.” You mumble, leaning back from him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He sighs and runs his hands along your arms, looking over your face to try and determine what you’re thinking. “I love you.”

“Love you,” You mumble again before you stand from his bed and make your way back out his bedroom window, you glance back at him, he’s smiling, somehow.

Once you’re gone, though, Leon flops back against his bed, his hands coming to his hair to pull at the soft strands, he's never been so nervous in his life.

“Fuck.”

—

Leon’s not proud of what he’s done, but he did it for you, so it’s not bad, right?

He really did mean to just talk things out, tell his neighbor that you’re his girlfriend and that you come up through the tree in front of his room because it’s faster.

But the kid had already told his parents, thankfully none of his friends, though. Leon didn’t know what to do, because soon the neighbors would tell his uncle and then he’d start asking questions, and then eventually his neighbor would tell his friends and then Leon’s friends would find out and- he panicked. What else could he say?

Leon came back to his neighbors later that night, maybe ten, ten thirty? Who cares? The thing about his neighbors is that the parents loved him because he was willing to spend two hours of his day tutoring their son who got into school mostly due to his parents, why wouldn’t they give him a spare key to the house?

He didn’t use a gun and he didn't go bare-handed, he’s not completely stupid. Leon just... came in through the back door with one of the knives from his kitchen and got to work. Leon hadn't thought a whole lot through besides his alibi, he'd just say he was sleeping, he's a college student, aren't you supposed to get sleep when given the chance?

But now his hands were covered in blood as well as his clothes, he made sure not to get any on his shoes, he'll just wash whatever became bloodied. And if he couldn't wash the blood out, he could just feed it to the fire pit, maybe a tie dye shirt wouldn't look too bad on him, he's thinking red and black.

He's not used to the feeling of someone else's blood coating his skin, did you know what that felt like? No, that blood had been your own, but still, maybe you could've told him it would be warm. And God, the fucking stench of it, he's gonna scrub his skin raw when he gets back home.

Leon doesn't expect you to come back to him that night, though he still really hopes that you do. But while he waited, he cleaned. Did his laundry, washed the knife, looked for any splotches of blood left in his yard that would be seen as an immediate red flag, he even kicked in the glass back door of his neighbors house for good measure! He probably wouldn't have slept, anyway, the adrenaline of puncturing a soft body with something he uses to cook is still running through his veins. He wasn't too worried about the other neighbors, most of them were old, it was well past their bed time.

Was Leon disappointed when you didn't show that night? Of course. But if you needed a night to try to gather your thoughts then what kind of boyfriend would he be to not allow you that space?

And it was no surprise when the cops showed up at his door the next morning, Leon had gone through this situation over and over in his head the whole night, he just needs to play dumb and be polite.

"No, officer, I didn't hear anything last night, what's the matter?"

"I don't know anyone who would do something like that to that family! That's just awful!"

"They've never upset me, and even if they did, I wouldn't kill them over it!"

"Damn, do I need to get security cameras or something, officer?"

Of course the police told him to get the security cameras, it’s no big problem for him, no one has to protect him, he’s just waiting for you to come back. Maybe you’ll even stay longer once you do finally come back to him, there’d be no one to worry about, so what’s the problem?

—

Leon doesn't get it, it's been almost a month now and you're still not back. Why is that? Did you just not know what he had done for you and decided to wait a bit longer? Maybe he should've known that the girl who got fucking stabbed to death wouldn't like him killing a family for her, God, did he scare you off?

He went to your grave, it looks normal. He'd never gone now because he had no reason to, but the soil wasn't loose or anything. Should he try to dig you up? No, that would get him thrown in jail in a matter of minutes. You weren’t even showing up on the security cameras the cops advised him to get,

Leon can't stand it. He misses you, is that really so bad?

How long were you planning to stay away? Did you just break up with him without even really saying it? Was killing his neighbors worth it? It's like you've just vanished! What does he have to do to get you to come back?

The pictures he has of you - from when you were alive, newspaper clippings of your obituary and your memorial service after the funeral - don't sit right with him anymore. He's had them since you started coming over, he just wanted to know more about you, but seeing you smiling at him through the black and white paper doesn't sit well in his stomach.

What's he supposed to do with your clothes? He misses you, why can't you just leave him a note explaining things? And he can't even tell anyone. He's worried about you, what if something happened to you?

But he waits, like he does every night.

And he waits, then waits a bit longer, then waits even more, and a month turns into four way too fast.

Where are you?

Leon swears he can hear the tap tap on his window, but when he looks, you're never there. Now he has to deal with the weight of murder on his shoulders while the cops are still out looking for the killer. Were the cops why you weren't coming back?

This is unbelievable, didn't you love him? If you don't come to him, he might have to come to you... somehow. He'll figure it out, he's pretty sure you're meant to be together.

Come on, don’t you know he’d die for you? Leon can’t wait for forever.