#and we suddenly met a bunch tonight!!!

[digitalsymbiote]

God, today was absolutely fantastic.

Got to go visit my GF, and snuggle her a bunch.

Got to play armored core 6 for the first time, with my GF next to me cheering me on.

And then we went to our LGS to play some commander, and we ran into a bunch of cool local queers!!

We had some great games, and it was such a good time meeting and chatting with everyone.

Just, aaaaaaa, am very happy rn

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

some things are worth it

a/n: so, because i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this guy, especially in this au (literally had multiple dreams about him this past week) i rewatched the longest ride for the yeehaw vibes and this fantasy popped into my head.

summary: “oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 

warnings: farmhand!tyler owens x farmer’s daughter!reader, smut, farmer au, bull rider!tyler, takes place before the previous fic in this au, secret relationship, bull riding (except i'm a suropean who has no idea what she's talking about, so apologies for the errors), love confession, secret relationship, kissing, clothed sex, car sex, size kink, manhandling, dry humping, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, thighjob, pussyjob, just the tip, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, why do i keep writing for this dude in the middle of the night?

word count: 4238

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“Hey,” Tyler cast you a glance as you came bouncing towards where he still worked, tinkering with the tractor that had quit halfway down one of the farm’s golden fields. 

“Hello,” you blinked down at him. A rusty toolbox was planted in the wheat by his kneeling form as he fiddled away at the machinery.

“You need help with something?” he kept on twisting a bolt. 

“Oh, no,” a shy giggle bubbled out of you, “my mom just sent me down here to invite you to stay for dinner tonight. She made a pie for dessert and everything, or well, we did, I helped… it’s rhubarb, if that can help sway you.”

“Rhubarb, eh?” he puffed out a short chuckle. 

“Yeah…”

Briefly glancing back over his shoulder at you and the way your flowy dress caught on the wind, he uttered, “I’d love to, Y/n, but–, uhm… I can’t tonight.”

“Right,” you exhaled, a nod swiftly accompanying your words, “you already have plans, of course…”

“Tell your mamma I’m sorry,” he tried to soften the blow, “next time, yeah?”

“Yeah…” you breathed, and as he returned his attention back to the machine, surely assuming that you’d bid him adieu and saunter back towards the main house, you instead shifted to lean against the tractor, “so… what are you doing tonight?”

Briefly glancing up at you, a soft smirk appeared on his lips as he purred, “you’re awfully nosy.” 

“Just tell me what your plans are,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Bull riding,” he informed you, “I ride on occasion, tonight being one of those times.”

Sucking in a breath, you uttered, “of course you do…”

Halting his tinkering with a chuckle, he pressed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“No, you just got adrenalin junky written all over you, so it checks out,” you gestured towards him and he let out a small laugh, retroactively confirming your accusation. As he shifted to look for a different tool, you opened your mouth once more and asked, “can I come?”

“Come what?” his concentrated gaze didn’t meet yours. 

“See you ride.”

Tyler’s eyes then snapped up to find yours, “you wanna come see me ride?” hesitation suddenly washed over his usually confident features, “uhm… I’m not sure your daddy would like that.”

“What? Me being around a bunch of rowdy and probably drunk strangers or going somewhere to see you?”

A warm chuckle then rumbled in his chest as a gentle shake found his head, “you’re trouble…”

“Is that a no?” you tilted your head in hope. 

“No…” he slowly exhaled and met your eye once more, “no it is not.”

You cheered for him at first when his name was announced and you caught a glimpse of him behind the fence, he even found your eyes in the crowd a moment as you clapped in anticipation. But then when it actually began, you stopped breathing entirely. It didn’t matter that he only had to stay on the beast for a few seconds, your heart still wouldn’t start beating again even after his boots were back on the ground and a proud grin stretched his lips. The petrified expression plastered on your features didn’t fade even when he found you afterwards and offered you a ride back home.

“You okay?” his deep timbre ripped you out of your stormy thoughts. 

Twisting your neck to blink over at him behind the wheel of his truck, you hummed, “huh?”

“You’re not usually this quiet,” he pointed out. 

“Oh… I’m just tired, I guess…” you lied, averting your gaze before you then heard yourself utter, “hey, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he held his eyes on the road. 

“How is it that you haven’t been hurt yet doing all of that?”

“Oh no, I have,” a soft chuckle bubbled out of the daredevil, “just not hard enough to stop me from getting back up.” 

A murmur then escaped your lips, just beneath your breath, “either that or you’re just too determined for your own good…”

“Maybe,” he cast you a glance and smirked slightly at the embarrassment that washed over your features at the realisation that he’d heard you, “but then again, determination isn’t always a bad quality to have.”

“It is if it could get you killed.” 

“Oh, how unromantic of you,” he puffed, “I could think of a handful of ways dying would be worth whatever goal you were going for,” his eyes momentarily flickered back to you in the passenger seat beside him. 

Holding his gaze a second before he redirected it back upon the dark road, you felt goosebumps tingle your flesh. 

“Hey Tyler?” you breathed, unsure if you were able to stop the words about to flow out your mouth. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you ever actually gonna do anything?” your vulnerable question was barely audible. 

Not yet catching onto your subtext, he inquired, “about what?” 

Staring over at him, you uttered, “me.”

His eyes immediately fluttered back to find yours, gazing back at you a second before it faltered, “I–… I don’t know what you mean...”

“Oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 

His firm grip stayed on the wheel long after the car had halted.

“Y/n, I–…” he tried, though gave up in a soft sigh. 

As he refused to meet your stare, you felt your stomach begin to flip.

“Oh…” you then breathed, blinking down at your hands as they fiddled with the fabric of the sundress that you wore, “unless I apparently don’t, I–… you know what? Forget it, I’m sorry,” your eyes squeezed shut at the mortification, “let’s just go back to the farm and pretend I didn’t say anything…”

Though his grip didn’t shift away from the wheel, didn’t drift down to twist the key and restart the engine. Instead, to your surprise, you saw him in your periphery twist towards you before you felt his hands come up to cup the sides of your face and pluck it out of hiding. 

Pulling you towards him, he then pressed his lips to your own, rendering you reeling to claw your way out of the stunned pit his bold actions had cast you into. 

As one of your palms slowly floated up to rest against the back of one of his, a soft sigh flowed from your form as you melted into his warmth. 

However, before you sank in and lost yourself completely, you felt him withdraw, though still remained close, letting his nose ghost against your own as he exhaled, “this is a really bad idea… we shouldn’t… I can’t afford to lose my job.” 

“Why would you think you’d lose it?” your fingers curled around the back of his hand in a plea to keep his touch glued to your heated cheek. 

“Have you met your father?” he scoffed softly, “I should be grateful if he only fires me and doesn’t outright kill me.” 

“He wouldn’t do that.” 

“You sure about that?” Tyler half-joked before slowly retracting even further. 

Blinking back at him, your lips still tingled from his kiss as you quietly said, “…I thought you were the one who just insisted that some things are worth dying for… I guess you just have to decide whether or not I could be worth that kind of risk…” 

A gentle chuckle then bubbled out of him as he gazed back at you in amazement, “you sound like a fair maiden 500 years ago,” twisting his fingers and tangling them in your own.  

Puffing out a laugh of your own, you defended, “well you started it!” before you felt one of his palms slide to the nape of your neck and tug you back in for another kiss. His lips felt like fire, though the slow smouldering kind that licked you up and ignited your entire soul, “if you don’t think it’s worth it,” you breathlessly uttered against his kiss, “then you should probably stop kissing me like that…” 

As a gentle smirk tugged at his mouth, he answered you not in the form of words, but instead drifted his hands down your frame and scooped you closer, plucking you up and lifting you into his lap, wasting no time at all to claim your lips again.

It didn’t take long after you settled above him, the wheel of the truck poking the lower part of your spine, that the slow peck evolved into something more, something else. Something that had muffled whines crawling up from the depth of your lungs and vibrating against his tongue as yours desperately danced against his own. Something that had you rolling your hips and grinding down against the hardness poking your panties so perfectly beneath the billowy fabric of your dress, the material of which had begun to ride up as Tyler’s wild touch began to wander over the curves of your frame. 

Panting into his mouth, your head started to lull slightly as you rocked down against him, the sensation being nearly too much to stand in the way it was both overwhelming yet also not at all enough. Nevertheless, if he gave you the chance, you’d surely be able to cum just like this if he let you, if he told you to desperately rut against him like some animal in heat, then you would, because that was just the effect he seemed to have on you. He was always able to turn your brain off with but a glance and nearly cause you to faint if he ever flashed you a dazzling smile. 

To say you had it bad was the understatement of the century, but evidently, and thankfully, you weren’t alone in the predicament. 

Snaking a hand down in the non-existent space between your frames, you found the bulky buckle of his belt and began to undo it. 

“Please,” you panted, your tone sounding downright pathetic, “I wanna–, can I touch you?”

And before you could fumble to do it, Tyler didn’t hesitate to undo his jeans and seize your hand, stuffing it into his pants and guiding your fingers to engulf his girth, squeezing them lightly around himself for but a moment before his touch then faded and he left you to your own devices.

“Oh, fuck–,” he growled, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “just like that.”

His cock throbbed in your palm as he kissed you once again and let his wide hands raked down to your ass, kneading your softness as he groaned against your lips.

But he didn’t let your zealous touch stretch out for that long before you heard him crack the door directly to his left open. His grip on your bottom locked securely as he got out of the truck, effortlessly carrying you with him as he made his way around towards the back.

His hold on you stayed fast as he flipped open the bed of the truck and plopped you down on the ledge. A soft giggle bubbled out of you, even as your hands came up to cup his jaw and he slotted himself in between your parted thighs. 

“Shit…” he exhaled as his gaze fluttered down to spot the damp spot decorating your underwear, neatly on show as your sundress had ridden up even further. Your legs dangled slightly off the edge as his touch then reached down to trace the mark of desperation, your bottom lip swiftly getting trapped betwixt your teeth as he rubbed you through the soaked cotton, “guess you really do have a thing for me, sweetheart,” his teasing touch traced your core as the sodden fabric clung to you, “I mean, not that I didn’t already have my suspensions…” 

“You knew?”

“You’re not exactly subtle when it comes to these things,” he chuckled before letting his fingers dip into your waistband, “it’s cute,” he smiled as your eyes fluttered when his digits swept through your folds, scooping back up to your puffy pearl as it buzzed beneath his caress, “I always enjoyed all the random little reasons you came up with just to have an excuse to talk to me.”

“Okay, I know they weren’t always that smooth,” an embarrassed heat sparked in your cheeks, “but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it is.”

“Oh, I know,” he stated casually, grinning at the way your eyes suddenly grew, “what? Did you really think I just happened to always have some work in the barn whenever you went for a ride?” one of his long fingers then eased into you, causing your mouth to fall open in a silent gasp. 

“Wait, seriously?”

“And the time I needed your help learning the system in the tool shed?” another one of his digits found its way inside of your cunt, rendering you a panting mess in his grasp as he leisurely pumped his fingers in and out, stretching you till your pussy sang out for him, “I already knew where everything was.”

The reply that was ready on your tongue swiftly fizzled out and became a forgotten relic as his touch then dissipated and instead floated down to where his jeans were already half undone. Tugging it the rest of the way open, he then stuffed his hand inside and freed his cock. Like a moth to a flame, your eyes couldn’t help but stare, yearning as you watched his cock throb in his tight fist. 

“O-oh, fuck…” the curse flowed out your lungs as your gaze stayed glued, nearly drooling as he suddenly hooked his grasp behind one of your legs and yanked you closer, causing you to tumble back onto your forearms as he manoeuvred your core that much closer to him. Hooking his fingers in the material of your panties, he slid them down your legs and, to your amazement, stuffed them into his pocket. As he then began to tap the hefty weight of his length down against your puffy petals, causing glossy strings of your desire to cling onto him and keep you ethereally attached, your eyes snapped back up to find his and the same whimper left your body once again, “oh, f-fuck…”

Trailing the bulbous tip through your wetness, he teasingly nudged the head against your swollen clit fiercely enough to make your whole frame twitch beneath him. 

“God… you feel so good…” he groaned, staring down at how his fat cock slid through and parted your glistening folds.

“Uh, Tyler–,” you begged hazily, your little hole winking every time he denied it any attention, “p-please–”

“What is it, baby?” he cooed smugly, “you want me to fuck you?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded foggily, your gaze flickering back down to watch his teasing. 

“You wanna know what my cock feels like inside your pretty little pussy, huh?” his touch then dented your thighs, pressing both of your legs together, enclosing them around his girth and resting your ankles atop one of his broad shoulders. 

“P-please–”

“Is it all you’ve been thinking about?” the softness of your thighs interlocked around him lend him to snap his hips against yours and freely fuck your folds, the underside of him sliding against the seem of your cunt, “what’s been occupying that brilliant brain of yours?” he smirked and you couldn’t help but rock back against his efforts, “because it’s all I’ve been thinking about… how warm you must feel around me, how tight, how fucking wet, how–, fuck!” he then moaned as the way you’d needily tilted your hips up towards him lend his length to accidentally catch your leaking hole and sink in just the slightest bit till he halted his movements.

A shuttering gasp escaped you as well at the sensation as he’d nearly caused tears to roll down your cheeks from how badly you wanted him. 

As he caught your eye, his grip digging into your legs in order to hold on to his last strand of self-control, you panted up at him just as he was about to pull back out, “don’t stop.”

Staring down at you, absorbing your every reaction, he slid the tip back out, but so painstakingly slow that it caused your eyes to roll in your skull. 

“But what if I did though? What if I just stopped, right here, right now? Just drove you back to the farm and left you a needy little puddle just like this?”

“No, don’t stop! Don’t–, I–…” your walls clung around his girth, “please just keep going, it can just be the tip, I just–, don’t stop…”

When just the memory of him kissed your entrance, he gently sank back in and stuffed the bulbous head inside your cunt, “you sure you just want the tip?” he slowly found a pattern, fucking you with just the essence of him, “you sure you don’t wanna feel me so deep inside of you that you won’t be able to walk afterwards? That you’ll still be able to feel what we did for days and days?”

Blinking up at him, your legs trembling against his chest, you breathed, “I–…” till your dizzy head began to rock in a nod. 

“Yeah?” he cocked his head and flashed you a smug smile, “then beg for it.”

“Please fuck me–”

“What was that?”

“F-fuck me–”

“What, like I am right now?” he rolled his hips to just shyly plug you up. 

“No, fuck me for real,” your words felt not your own as they desperately flowed out of you, “fuck me exactly like you’ve been dreaming of since we first met, since you first–, ah!” all of the air was then forced out of your lungs as he slammed the remainder of himself all the way inside, stretching you wide of him and letting the tip, the very part of him that had been driving you mad, kiss the deepest part of you and cause your eyes to flutter shut. 

Your knees bent and crumbled down to curl up beside your chest as he meticulously slid halfway out, only to jam his dick back inside. 

He was practically growling above you, sinful grunts rhythmically flowing from his lips at every one of his frantic thrusts.

“Oh my god,” you cried beneath him as your cunt swiftly began to flutter around him, “you f-feel so–, so–, g-good!”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked and then perceptively asked, “are you gonna cum?” leaning down over you as he kept up his efforts. 

You tried to offer him an answer, but in the blissful abyss he’d cast you down in, you could only nod and squeeze your eyes further shut. 

“Then look at me, baby,” you sensed his fingers curl around your cheek, his reach dipping into your hairline, “be a good girl and look at me when you cum around my cock,” and when you managed to force your hazy eyes to blink back open, he stared back down at you as your cunt clenched down around him so fiercely that you nearly forced his girth out entirely, “there you go, fuck…”

But as your high began to melt away into sensitivity, the blonde farmhand didn’t slow his efforts in the slightest, moaning above you as he also was too close to cum to simply stop.

“Tyler, it’s too–,” you whimpered, your thighs shaking on either side of his frame as the creamy aftermath of your orgasm created a ring around the base of his cock and aided his erratic efforts, lending the entirety of his length to plunge back into you with such ease, even as your walls quaked and squeezed tightly around him. 

“Shh, you can take it,” he uttered hazily, “fucking take it, fucking–, ahh!” his hips then shuttered as he tumbled over the edge and pumped you full of his hot load. 

When Tyler one day had an errand to run, some thingy he had to pick up at a neighbouring farm, you hadn’t really paid attention to that part, you had kinda just stopped listening after the discovery that you would get to tag along simply because the neighbour knew you better than him. 

So, once you were both waiting on the ground for the farmer to return with the item, just a curious look to make the time pass by morphed into the pair of you full-on wandering around and being more nosy than what was good for you. 

Though the snooping halted once you pushed open the door to the westernmost barn and discovered a DIY contraption that tickled Tyler’s nostalgia. 

It was a tin barrel, strung up with ropes and tied to a few beams, though he still had to open his mouth for you to fully understand how it was a homemade training tool for when you first began learning how to ride a bull.

By then, some of the fear you’d felt the night you had watched him ride had overflowed and spilt out, which surely also was the reason behind why he suddenly insisted on you hopping on and letting him try to teach the terror out of you. 

“So, like that?” you asked, one of your hands hovering above the one you clutched around the makeshift loop tied around the uppermost quadrant of the barrel you straddled. 

“Almost, you’re only allowed to hold on with the one hand,” he pointed out and you swiftly adjusted, raising your left hand up high just as you remembered he’d done, “yeah, there you go.”

“So, just eight seconds like this?” your thighs squeezed around the drum as Tyler gently tugged on one of the ropes, only making you sway slightly. 

“Yeah,” he nodded as you glanced over at him, “and then there are other things that can get you more points, like how well you hold your balance and if you’re able to control the bull or not, those kinds of things.” 

He then caught you off guard by pulling on the rope a little rougher and offering you a much harsher and more realistic buck of the barrel, though, to your shock, you reacted to it surprisingly well, clenching your thighs and tightening your grip. 

“Atta girl,” he grinned at the startled chuckle that bubbled out of you, “see? It’s not so scary. You’re a natural.”

“Or maybe you’re just going easy on me…” you pointed out, reflecting on how the love you’d had for riding horses since a very young age surely kicked in and aided you in this skill as well. 

“You’re doing great,” he stated, his stare staying glued to how your body and hips swayed borderline sensually to the rhythm he kept up, “relax, give in to the movements more.” 

“How?”

“Just–…” he sucked in a breath, “pretend that you’re on something else…” a sly smirk then spread across his features before he uttered, “pretend that it’s me you’re riding.”

You then promptly felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, as it became impossible to keep up your concentration on the task at hand and swiftly heard yourself shriek, “oh my god, Tyler Owens!”

Letting go of the rope, he stepped closer to you and enjoyed your flustered visage, “or better yet, maybe I should just let you hop on and teach you that way,” he let his palm slide up your leg as he came to stand beside you. 

“You’re ridiculous!” you laughed.

Snaking his hands around your waist, he then effortlessly lifted you back down onto the ground and uttered, “you love it.”

As you felt his breath fan across your features, your giggle got caught in your throat and faded away as you gazed back at him. 

“Yeah, I think I might…” you then whispered before he crashed his lips against yours. 

His boots then began to shuffle as yours did as well, letting him shift you till your spine collided with the gate to one of the empty stalls in the dusty barn. Pushing you up against it as he ravenously kissed you, one of his wide palms then swooped up from his fast hold on your waist to caress the soft peak of your boob through the thin layer of your tanktop. 

A breathy moan couldn’t help but slip up from your lungs when his kisses then faded from your lips and began to dance down the side of your neck. 

“Okay, easy there, tiger,” you caught his head in your hands as his sloppy pecks fluttered against your rapid pulse, “we can’t do anything here.”

“Oh yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow as he peeked up at you, “is that a dare?”

“No,” you chuckled, then reminded him of your neighbour, “he’ll be back any second.”

A groan then seeped through his grin before he pushed himself off of you, “fine…” yet still held his burly arms stretched out and fast on either side of you, supporting his weight against the half wall behind you and doing his very best to stop himself from diving back in.

But then you slowly let yourself float back into his space, “hey,” and tilted your chin to catch his gaze, “I said not here, not that we shouldn’t give it a try…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble

[mrskokushibo]

Dinner Party

Kyojuro x Sanemi x Tengen&wives x fem!reader

Warnings: Sex, Dirty Smut, MDNI, NSFW, strictly 18+. Group sex . Modern AU. Nearly 5k words Smut. Orgy. Rough oral.

Summary: Sanemi, your husband Kyojuro, and you enjoy dinner with Tengen and his wives at their place. The party ends with...sex. Essentially a pure smut. Enjoy!

Part 2: After Party out now

Masterlist

As Kyoujuro’s wife, you spent a lot of time with his co-workers. They all worked at a small, tight-knit firm that the three men founded together. Kyoujuro was friends with Tengen and Sanemi long before the two of you met, and they were the first people, even before his parents, that he introduced you to. And they were a lovely bunch. The flamboyant Tengen with his three gorgeous wives and the slightly on-edge Sanemi – a forever bachelor - the guy had much luck with women and yet did not seem to want to settle for anyone.

It was Saturday night and Tengen had you all over for one of his lavish dinners. His wives, Makio, Hinatsuru and Suma were the most gracious of hosts, preparing stunning meals and creating a lovely atmosphere with their bubbly personalities. The house was a modern villa, with a large and stylishly decorated living and dining space all wrapped around a Japanese-inspired closed-in courtyard that housed a garden and an onsen. You all usually stayed late into the night, chatting away, watching movies, and drinking.

The atmosphere tonight was just as friendly, however, something seemed to be on Tengen’s mind all night. He kept on giving you quick glances all through the dinner and lowering his gaze every time you caught him doing it.

After dinner, everyone made themselves comfortable in the large lounge, the girls snuggled up to Tengen, but he kept on looking at you, his gaze baring mischief. Kyoujuro, as always, was a bit too tipsy to even notice what Tengen was doing, he did not drink on a normal basis, so every time he did, he could not really handle it. He leaned his head on your shoulder and said out into the room,

‘Maybe we should go home now y/n, and leave our lovely hosts to enjoy the evening.’

‘Well, Kyo, good that you speak up, I was just about to suggest that you all stay here with us tonight’

The gorgeous white-haired man suddenly said, all the time looking you in the eyes, his movie-star smile was as wide as it got.

‘It is fine. Thanks for the offer, but we can take a taxi home, no need to have us mess up your guest room’ Kyojuro replied.

Tengen threw his head back and laughed.

‘Oh, no, my dear Kyo. Innocent as always.’ He smirked. ‘What I meant is, that you join us for our nightly activities this evening.’

He looked you in the eye again, as in anticipation, and then confronted you with zero shame.

‘What do you say, y/n. Would you mind sharing your husband with my girls?’

You looked at your husband and he was simply too stunned to even react. Before you could answer Tengen, he nodded toward Sanemi

‘How about you? Care for some fun?’

Sanemi smirked ‘You know I am always up for a good fuck.’

Tengen looked back at you and Kyojuro.

‘So, how about you guys?’ question directed more at you than Kyo.

You looked at Kyo whose cheeks were now red as a beet.

‘What do you think?’ you asked him

‘It is up to you, I guess’ he nearly stammered.

You looked back at Tengen and something very basic was waking up in you. His normally charming gaze was also turning darker and you now knew nothing better than to succumb to your baser instincts.

‘I am up for it. Yes, for sure.’

You looked at Kyo, who was staring at you in shock.

‘Baby, you will have fun. You will see. Besides, it would be rude to disappoint our gracious hosts.’ You smiled innocently at him, while your thoughts were anything but.

Tengen stretched out his arm to you and spoke

‘Come here then.’

When you walked up to him, he stood up and said to his wives:

‘Ok, you three have fun with the boys, I want this one to myself first’ With that he grabbed you by the hand and started to lead you away to their bedroom.

In the meantime, Sanemi shamelessly waved in Makio and Hinatsuru to come to him and soon enough the trio was getting on with clothes being ripped off and moans starting to fill the space. Kyoujuro was still seated in the same spot, but now with a visible erection growing in his pants. Suma walked over to him and knelt between his legs.

‘Do not be shy. I will help you relax’ she giggled massaging his clothed dick and making him moan quietly.

You were now being led through the spacious house to Tengen’s bedroom. His large hand holding yours softly and a sweet smile graced his handsome face. Your anticipation was growing with every step, your pussy slowly tightening and wetness forming between your legs. You always admired Tengen’s looks and physique, but honestly always dismissed any dirtier thoughts from lingering for longer than a flash of a second. But now, you were granted the possibility to finally explore and revisit all that you always pushed aside. At last, you reached the bedroom. It was big by normal standards, but not as large as you would imagine, most of it taken up by a huge bed. There were multiple doors leading to what you could make out as two ensuite bathrooms and nothing less but four separate walk-in closets. Walls were adorned with artwork and there was a large tv on the opposite wall. The room smelled of jasmine and other floral notes you did not quite recognise.

Tengen was standing behind you with his hands placed on your shoulders. He pressed himself tightly into your back and leaned down to kiss your neck. His large, muscular body was cradling you perfectly and he had to lean down far to reach your neck due to the considerable size difference between the two of you. You could feel his hard dick pressing into your waist and you started grinding yourself back on him. It felt huge, the hardness against your soft backside making you want to rip his clothes off and fuck him straight away.

His hands were now moving down your neck to your breasts. The feel of his large, warm hands on your exposed neckline was making you so freaking hot. Soon enough he was massaging your breasts with both hands, not being fully satisfied with touching you through your clothes, he reached down into your lowcut top and into your bra, playing gently with your nipples. You were eliciting some very lascivious moans as he took out your boobs from the bra and out of your top. He was tracing your neck and sides of your cheeks with his lips all the while you were bucking your back into his hard-on. He started to remove your top, with skillful hands unclipped your bra and tossed it to the side, and finally slid down your skirt and panties. All you were left wearing were your lace top stay-ups and high-heeled stiletto shoes.

Slowly, he started pushing you lightly, making you move toward the bed. He pushed far enough that you were now leaning over the edge of it supported by your stretched-out arms. He spread your legs wide and went down on his knees behind you spreading your ass cheeks and licking up a quick line along your wet folds. He kept on licking you between your legs with the flat of his tongue, but he needed better access to work more meticulously.

So now, he gently helped you switch positions and you were soon lying flat on your back with legs spread wide for him. He removed his shirt and you gasped at the sight of his naked torso. He grinned widely

‘You like what you see?’

He was very aware of what his looks did to women and found it amusing at times, but without being cocky about it. His fingers were spreading your labia and he focused on rubbing on one side while licking your clit area with slow and light movements of his wet muscle. A finger was drawing circles around the opening of your cunt with him increasing the pressure on the inside of your labia. You were experiencing so much pleasure now, all you could do was close your eyes and moan like a whore.

He kept his movements on you steady and firm, not moving from any spot until your moans were not as loud anymore, skillfully seeking out the next more sensitive spot by listening to your vocal response and the movement of your hips. He was essentially doing what you used to when you masturbated. His pussy eating skills were unmatched. As he felt your arousal intensify, your pussy clenching and spasming more and more he was now narrowing down his movements closer and closer to your clitoris, slowly sending you into overdrive. He was not cruel, however, and feeling you were about to edge, he now applied extra pressure on your clit and worked until you could no longer control yourself, the sensation of needing to pee quickly turning into an avalanche of ecstasy. You squirted all over him and kept on moaning even as you were descending from your high.

He climbed onto the bed next to you and started kissing you, making you taste your own juices.

‘You taste so good, y/n, I cannot get enough of you.’

Your hands were already fumbling with his zipper and soon you were sliding his pants and boxers off. When his dick was exposed, you stopped your action and grabbed hold of it, him doing the rest of the undressing. You were completely mesmerised by its size. Sure, Kyo was not small and you had your fair share of cock before him, but this? This was on another level. Tengen was nearly two meters tall and not directly lanky, with a strong muscular build so his size would most likely be reflected in his dick, but this was more than you ever thought was possible. Nine inches maybe? You swallowed and started slowly to lick him up his shaft, making him sigh in pleasure.

You were licking him and stroking with your hands for a while, lapping up the precum that steadily leaked out of his tip. Opening your mouth wide you started to sink yourself over his dick while pumping the rest of the huge shaft with one hand. He was rubbing you between your folds again, creating new wetness that was now running down your thighs. Come over here ‘he whispered and guided you to sit down on his face.’ You were in a full sixty-nine now. One of your favourite positions.

With a firm grip on your hips, he pulled you down so that you were fully seated on his mouth and started snaking his tongue into you. At the same time, you were now enthusiastically sucking him off, your cheeks hollowing and small gagging sounds coming out of your mouth every time you sank down on his length. He was gentle with your blow job, not bucking his hips nor pushing down your head. He was aware of his size and had enough control and experience to immerse himself in you doing the work for him instead.

His tongue was working relentlessly on your clit, with you bucking your hips back and forth to create more friction. You were edging now, but too focused on giving him pleasure to have your own release again. He must have felt you clench and get wetter as that went straight to his dick, you feeling it twitch, stiffen and a few more sucks later he came into your mouth, filling you up. You swallowed eagerly, the pleasant salty taste of him tantalising your senses. While you were licking him dry, he intensified his pressure on your crotch and you came again. Not a huge orgasm this time, but good enough to make you scream out briefly.

Now you lay next to each other, enjoying the lingering sensation of contentment and the warmth of still pulsing, blood-filled and swollen genitals. His hand was tracing lightly on your folds, smearing all the cum that leaked out of you.

You were now curious about what was going on in the living room… You lifted your head up a little and was listening to the distant sounds of pleasure. Tengen smirked and picked up a remote control. After a moment of fumbling the tv turned on and what came up on the screen was a bird’s eye view of Tengen’s living room.

‘You have cameras in there??’ you asked.

‘Yes, they are security cameras, but I just realised they could come to good use’ he said with a broad grin.

What was happening on the screen was a full-blown orgy.

Sanemi had Makio and Hinatsuru working on his cock, with Hinatsuru sucking his balls and Makio bobbing her head up and down with Sanemi pressing her head down in an unkind manner. His head was thrown back on the headrest and his teeth were gritted in pleasure.

All the while Kyoujuro was frenetically thrusting his hips and cock into Sumas backside who was moaning loud enough to wake up the neighbourhood.

You were staring at the screen with your pussy gradually getting wetter (if that was even possible from how soaked you already were). You were interrupted by Tengen, who was positioned between your legs with the large cock erect once again. Your look must have unveiled your worries as he said in a soft voice

‘It will fit. I promise. You are so wet anyway’. He smiled.

With that, he parted your pussy with his fingers and positioned his tip at the opening, pushing in slowly. The feeling of a cock this size filling you up was making you absolutely wild with arousal. You were moaning for every inch he was gaining on you. His actions were pure perfection, he really had an intimate knowledge of the female body. He could not bottom out yet, his cock simply too huge and your pussy clenching ferociously. But that did not bother him much. You would eventually open more.

He now started gently pumping his dick into you while watching the footage from the living room. He tilted your chin and turned your head toward him and with a delicate stroke to your cheek, he said in a soft but slightly condescending tone.

‘Do you like what you see?’ It was almost a whisper. ‘You are a very dirty girl, aren’t you?’

‘How about we give my girls a break and I call the boys in here for you? I think you might enjoy that…. I do not think you are satiated yet; I can see it in your eyes.’

You swallowed. You knew so well what he had in mind and the thought of all three males giving you this kind of attention made your body basically limp with arousal.

You kept on watching until everyone in the living room climaxed. Tengen pulled out of you, got up and disappeared into the living room. When he appeared on the screen you could hear him tell his wives to relax and put champagne on cooling. He needed the three men in the bedroom with you and him and you all would be a while, but you all would join the ladies in the hot tub for a relaxing soak and champagne afterward. The girls giggled and walked out of the living room.

The screen went empty and a moment later the three men appeared in the bedroom. Kyo with a heavy blush covering his face, the confident Sanemi with a smug smirk and finally Tengen with a peaceful expression in his smiling pink eyes.

‘Well, well, well. Aren’t you a horny one. Sure you wanna take all three of us at once?’

Sanemi blurted out in his usual cocky manner.

‘Did you know she was like this?’ he asked turning to Kyoujuro.

Kyoujuro’s normally gentle eyes started to narrow and you could see he was on the verge of saying something he would regret. Luckily, the tactically minded Tengen, being the older one here, took reign of the situation and said

‘Hey guys, let’s not bicker, we are all consenting adults here. I think we should get to it before your nagging puts y/n off’

he looked at you and when he was sure they could not see his eyes, he rolled his eyes in a conspiratory gesture toward you, something that made you smile through pressed lips and nod your head to him lightly. You were getting very used to his charming demeanour. 

‘Ok, ok. We can get started. Btw, are you ok with taking it up your ass y/n? No offence, but there are three of us here’

Sanemi noted, but got quickly interrupted by Tengen

‘Nemi, seriously, It is up to y/n, however, she has not prepped herself. So no, I can answer on her behalf that that is off-limits tonight. Y/n, do you agree?’

‘Yes, totally.’

Sanemi sighed deeply, almost as if in disappointment. So, he was into anal, hey? You learned something new tonight.

Sanemi was the first to walk up to you, his erect heavy cock bobbing with every step. He knelt down beside you and started massaging your breasts and enclosed his lips on one of your nipples. You started moaning, his massage of your boobs getting more intense and his tongue flicking your nipple faster now.

‘You know, I might just fuck your tits then, since you won’t put up back there’ he said with a grin.

With that, he straddled your torso and positioned his hard dick between your breasts.

‘Now, sweetheart, squeeze them together for me so I can fuck them’

You did as he asked and soon his dick was sliding back and forth between your tits, his leaking tip coming close to your chin with every move forward. In the meantime, you could feel a large finger spread your labia again, Tengen was getting ready to fuck your pussy. You were so wet now, that he did not need any more prep, but instead, you started to feel that enormous dick of his being slowly pushed into you again.  He felt so fucking good and his movements were just perfect. You completely understood how the guy could satisfy three women. Kyoujuro was the last to join, standing next to your face, the blonde was pumping his thick cock next to your mouth, and looking at you with those hungry amber eyes you were so used to. You opened your mouth eagerly and he slowly pressed himself past your lips, your tongue snaking on the incoming length. His hand stroking your hair gently.

‘Fuck, Kyo, she is such a slut, taking us so good. I could though sense her being on the wild side the first time we met, she was too hot to be tame’

Sanemi spoke through gritted teeth, his little dirty monologue stopped by Tengen who flicked his finger at the back of Sanemi’s head.

‘Shut it, Nemi. Just enjoy yourself, will you? But, hey Kyo. Y/n is lovely and if she does not mind, I would love to have an encore of our evening’

He spoke with quite a strained voice now, being engulfed in his own pleasure. Right now, it was only Tengen and Sanemi who were making you weak with pleasure, Tengen’s cock hitting all the right spots with every slow thrust and Sanemi pinching and rolling your nipples with his calloused fingers. You were eliciting muffled moans onto Kyoujuro’s cock, but to be honest, you were not sucking him with much enthusiasm, being so engulfed in what the two white-haired hotties were doing to you.

Suddenly, Kyoujuro grabbed you by the hair and yanked your head backward. The look in his eyes was wild and fierce and he hissed through his teeth:

‘You are neglecting your wifely duties, my dear. I think I must show you how to behave properly.’

With that, he shoved his full length into your mouth making you gag. This really took you by surprise, almost so you did not recognise your so otherwise playful and gentle lover. You looked at him pleadingly, but he did not seem to care, continuing to thrust into you while holding your hair tight. You were completely at the three men’s mercy, taking whatever they were giving to you, and thanks to Tengen you were receiving a lot. The pressure in your belly was increasing and you were now edging. You tapped Sanemi on the arm

‘squeeze the other nipple too, please Nemi’

He smirked and granted your wish. The action of his rough hands on your hard buds was what was needed to push you over the edge and you climaxed, your scream only muffled by Kyojuro’s cock inside your mouth. The spasming of your pussy was now too much for Tengen as well, and soon enough your clenching muscles milked him hard and  you felt the warmth of his cum inside you. When he pulled out, you felt so empty, you pulled away from Kyojuro’s cock and tried to look around Sanemi to send your plea to Tengen, but right then it was Sanemi’s turn to orgasm and you were met with thick ropes of semen spraying your face and landing in your open mouth.

Kyojuro was now really annoyed, once again having your attention stolen like this. He shifted his position so that he was facing you just behind the top of your head where you were lying down and then hovered himself over you, with his hips over your face and his face toward your belly. His heavy dick now hanging down in your face, he tilted your head slightly backward and pushed himself in your mouth with the intention to mouth fuck you properly. He was fast and rough, almost choking you. His grunts were hoarse and deep. This was not the most comfortable fucking you experienced, to be honest, and you were surprised by his sudden roughness.

Luckily for you, Tengen dove between your legs and started teasing your now overstimulated clit. His licks and massage were just as good as the first time he made you come. You were slowly adjusting to Kyojuro’s actions and focused solely on enjoying what Tengen was doing to you, him now flicking your clit faster and faster until you dissolved in another orgasm, squirting all over his handsome face. He smiled and lapped up as much as he could of your juices. The sight of all this must have finally been too much for Kyo, who now actioned a sloppy thrust and emptied his balls deep into your throat.

His load must have been huge as when he pulled out a fair bit leaked out onto your cheek. You were too fucked out to even notice that your face and neck were literally smeared with cum. You just laid there in bliss. Sanemi and Kyoujuro were both also lying on their backs in the large bed, panting. Tengen though was too considerate to leave you hanging. He walked up to you and lifted you up in his arms.

‘You look like you need a shower’ and carried you to the bathroom.

‘Can you stand up?’

Surprisingly, you could.

‘Good. I am glad to see that you can.’

He turned on the shower and when he deemed the temperature to be just right, he led you in there and embraced you, whispering into your ear

‘Just so you know, I really, really want to see more of you like this. I mean it’

You looked into his enchanting eyes and felt like this would be a lovely arrangement.

After you showered you joined the group in the onsen and all of you enjoyed the rest of the night with champagne and conversation flowing freely.

Banners by @adornedwithlight and @cafekitsune

Tagging: @muzansfangs @doumadono @horror4themasses

[cavegirlpoems]

A story from back when I played D&D. It might have been 3.5 or pathfinder or fantasycraft or one of that ilk. Might even have been 4e. It was like a decade ago.

So. Standard D&D. A party of bold adventurers of diverse origins and skillsets gets together to explore a perilous dungeon and stop a cartoonish baddy. The usual.

I end up building a fairly typical character for me. A goblin Rogue/Assassin. A stealth/melee build designed to get the drop on an enemy, do a bunch of rapid damage, and then fuck off.

She was lawful evil, and firmly in the team-fortress-two-sniper school of "You know who has a lot of feelings? Men what bludgeon their wives to death with a golf trophy. Professionals have standards." school of being a mercenary. I think I even did an aussie accent.

Anyway her schtick was that she'd noticed 'Adventurers' got to do as much violence as they wanted without social consequences, and she loved violence! So she was gonna do a stint as an adventurer, so once she was done she could go home with a big sack of gold to spend on booze and cake and hot girls. But right now she was on the job, so she was an extremely professional team player with a strict code of conduct. Always be honest with the team, follow the plan, don't mess things up for the team, split the loot evenly. Standards.

Verna was a horrible efficient little murder gremlin who was also proudly guild-certified. * * *

Now, another PC was a chaotic neutral gnome bard who was leaning hard on the 'gnomes are amusingly racist to goblins and kobolds and think this is funny and endearing' thing. He teased Verna a bunch about being green and ugly, which she studiously ignored because - remember - she had Professional Standards.

Anyway, there was a human NPC we met that she didn't like, saying he was a bit stupid and very annoying. Our gnome bard decided it would be very funny to use one of his enchantment spells to make Verna suddenly horny for him and watch what happened.

Verna sees the gnome who keeps fucking with her walk up, wave his hands and babble some arcane nonsense, and now she has weird funny feelings she can't explain. She does some thinking and concludes that she'll pay the human for a snog later, because right now this guy's just obviously cast a spell to mess with her mind, which was Not Okay. Of course, she had Professional Standards, so...

She walks up to our gnome friend and basically informs him: "Hi! I know you just did some magical brainwashing on me, and I am not going to tolerate this! However, because we're in a team together, and I don't want this to become a problem, I am going to very generously allow you to settle the matter with me. We will have a bout of single combat to first blood, and then whoever wins I will consider the matter settled and my honour satisfied, and you won't do that again, and we won't mention it. This is a very kind offer of mine, because I have Standards; where I come from the normal response would be to say nothing and strangle you in your sleep tonight."

And our gnome, who is a spellcaster not a combatant, looks at this and decides he doesn't want to get shown up by her, and basically tells her that if she doesn't like getting messed with she can go back to the goblin village, and laughs at her.

So. Shrug. Quickdraw as a free action. I get a surprise round. You're flat footed, so it's easy to hit and I get sneak attack damage. 3/4 of his health is gone. Initiative. He says he wants to say sorry. I respond that he can say that when it gets to his initiative count, but right now it's my action and he's still flat-footed and here's my big pile of d6s for sneak attack and oh dear I think that's him on -10 hp, so he's not going to get the chance.

* * *

Anyway this kicked off a massive shitstorm ooc about how I just kicked off PvP and murdered a PC for no reason and the game fell apart because the gnome's player genuinely didn't seem to understand that 'mind control' is a hostile action. This was in the bad old days before safety tools and I was playing in a fairly neckbeardy group, so 'a man makes a woman horny against her will to humiliate her and laughs about it' was apparently not a deal-breaker while 'the woman stabs him for it' was.

I still think I wasn't the bad guy in this scenario.

There is no point to this story I just wanted to share it.

[screeching-bunny]

Part 2 on the Yandere supernatural heram please.

Yandere! Supernatural Harem pt.2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt.1

Your first ever viable memory was of a supernatural creature. At the young age of three, you encountered an extremely tall woman with long black hair dressed in a white dress. Looking back at the memory, she ended up turning out to be an urban legend called Hachishakusama. The eight feet tall women loomed down over you and followed you wherever you went. Everytime she was nearby you could hear her utter the sound “po” over and over again. Anytime you brought this up to your parents they would just brush it off as you being imaginative and thought that you made an imaginary friend. “Would your friend like to join us for dinner tonight?” Never, would they actually take your comments.

It wasn’t until you got tired of her appearance did you actually start to confront her. With your limited variety of vocabulary and baby voice, you spring out the sentence of “Why you follow me?” Only to be met with silence as you stomp your little feet on the ground. Geez how rude of her didn’t she hear that you asked a question?

Suddenly, the woman reaches her arms out to grab you. The grip of her hug was strong and firm. You were barely able to move around that much. Your tiny little brain panicked as you struggled to get free. It was the first time that you’ve ever experienced real fear. Soon, the woman opened her mouth and said, “Won’t you come home with me child. I’ll make sure to take care of you and treat you better than your biological parents.” You didn’t get a chance to respond before your mother burst into your room and screamed.

After that incident your parents took you to a Buddhist temple so that you could be dispelled from evil spirits or entities. This however, never really worked because some form of shape or another they just kept on crawling back. When your parents thought that you were safe you were finally able to leave the temple. Your parents wanted you to be extra safe so they decided to move out of the house and buy a new one. Thankfully, due to this incident they were more aware and took your concerns about others very seriously from then on.

Another vivid memory that you could recall was when you were at the age of eight. It was at the time when your new neighbors moved into the house next to yours. Your father wanted to greet your new neighbors and took you along with him. You remember waiting on their doorstep as your father knocks on the door. A few minutes pass and he knocks again. “Maybe they're not home, let’s come back later.” Just then the door swings open and out comes a tall blonde man. “Hi, we’re your new neighbors. We just came by to greet you and welcome you to our neighborhood.” The blonde man stared for a second before saying, “Thanks so much for that and your formalities. You have such a cute kid. I have two twin boys about their age, do you think they could play together?”

Just like that you were in the neighbor’s yard with his two twin sons. They were definitely an odd bunch with long bangs covering your eyes. Even though you couldn’t see them, you could feel their eyes following your form. As time went on hanging around them wasn’t that bad; they were very nice to be around and listen to basically everything you said. The only problem was that they were overly clingy, everywhere you were they just had to be as well. Another red flag was that they would never allow you to see their eyes no matter how much you pleaded and pestered, they would never allow you to see their eyes.

By the time that you were in the fifth grade, you three were inseparable best friends. During your time with them however, students at your elementary school started to go missing more frequently. An incident that you could remember was when you told the twins that you liked some kid and were planning to confess soon. A few weeks later your crush was missing and a community search was sent out. No matter how hard everyone looked no one could find them, it was almost as if they had disappeared out of thin air.

As the years went on more creatures showed up to you but they seemed to be intercepted by some weird force. You made sure to keep this a secret from everyone but your parents. It wasn’t until your senior year of high school that you found out the truth about your two best friends. One day, you just got so curious about what their eyes looked like that you peaked at one of the twin’s eyes when he was his face. His eyes were pitch black and darker than charcoal. Even though you didn’t know it at the time, they were called black eyed children.

Safe to say, you were extremely creeped out by this discovery but were even more creeped out that they were planning on kidnapping you to some faraway place. Yeah heck no, so on the day of graduation, you decided to run away from home to get away from them. You then wrote a letter to your family basically saying, “Yeah, so my childhood friends aren't actually human and it’s best I leave before anything happens to you or me peace out, xoxo your child.”

Leaving home was pretty rough for you. You’ve never felt so alone before in your entire life and to top it all off you were a newly fresh adult. Making it into an adult transition was difficult and confusing but you somehow managed with that.

Blasting into the future now, you were in quite a predicament. Waking up with your limbs tied to a bedpost was not your ideal way of starting your morning but hey at least your kidnapper didn’t you hard rope. Instead, it was a really thick ribbon and lace that bonded your arms. Your eyes start to adjust to the light as your vision starts to get clearer you notice that most of the furniture is Victorian styled. Soon you hear footsteps reach to the and it starts to open.

“My love, it seems that you're finally awake. Oh how I’ve dreamed of this moment, I can’t believe that this is real.” Wow this was totally not creepy whatsoever. Taking in his appearance you notice his sharp fangs and long glistening hair. Yeah he is definitely a vampire, this is so annoying you really did not feel like being a blood bag right now.

“Can you please untie me? I promise not to run away.” Before you could get a response from him, the ground suddenly started to shake, and you could feel your arms being freed. As you get up to run from your captor, you feel the arms of someone grabbing your waist. In a blink of an eye, you feel someone lift you up and fly you away from the vampire. “GOD DAMN IT, NOT THIS AGAIN.”

[maysileeewrites]

18+ content; mdni!

Thinking about attending an important state dinner with Husband!Coriolanus

At first, he’d try to keep you safe and closely at his side, a possessive hand set on your waist; his grip on you tightening whenever you’d so much as even look too long at another man.

But then, later, after everyone’s eaten and most people have already had too much to drink, you’re coming back from the bathroom - only to see him deep in conversation with another woman, laughing, her hand on his arm.

What’s even more infuriating to you - he makes no move to remove her hand; at least not until you slide up to him from behind, settling your hands on his waist and kissing him very deliberately and intentionally.

„There you are, Darling, I’ve been looking all over for you“, you say, trying to force a smile as you turn to take in the other woman. „And you haven’t even introduced me to this lovely woman - hello, I’m Y/N Snow, Coriolanus‘s wife, I believe we haven’t met yet“, you say.

Out of the corner of your eyes you can see Coriolanus smirking to himself (he loves seeing you jealous, knowing what he’s in for later tonight.)

Later, when you get home, you’re quiet and withdrawn, so much so, that Coriolanus genuinely starts to worry.

„Something wrong, Darling?“

„Who was she?“, you say, whirling around to face him.

„Who - Augustina? She’s no one, I just know her from work-“

„Do not lie to me, Coriolanus Snow“, you say, trying to control the jealousy coursing through you.

„I told you, darling, she’s no one. Just someone who teaches at the academy - there’s no reason for you to be jealous.“

You huff a sigh of frustration. „I’m not-“

„Jealous?“, Coryo interrupts you, an infuriating, teasing smirk on his lips. „Because, darling - to me it looks a whole lot like you are jealous - over someone that doesn’t even matter. I told you, there’s only you.“

As if to punctuate his words, Coriolanus steps even closer towards you, until the back of your legs are hitting the desk in his study.

Smirking, he reaches up and tugs a stray strand of hair behind your ear, before claiming your lips in a hungry, desperate kiss, cutting off whatever it was that you were about to say.

Helplessly, you tangle your hands in Snow‘s curls, trying to ground yourself - trying to remember why you were so upset with him in the first place.

Though it becomes harder and harder to form any kind of coherent thought when Coriolanus deepens the kiss, his tongue moving against yours, before he abruptly pulls back, breaking the kiss.

You gasp, trying to regain your breath, when suddenly, Coriolanus drops down to his knees in front of you, using one hand to spread your legs apart.

He uses his other hand to bunch up the skirt of your dress, pushing the fabric aside, before running his hand up your inner thighs, fingers gently brushing over your smooth, sensitive skin.

You gasp, when suddenly, his fingers brush right over your clit, only covered by the thin fabric of your already embarrassingly soaked-through panties.

„So wet“, he groans, before leaning forward and burying his head between your thighs, inhaling your scent deeply, causing you to whimper.

„Coryo, I-“

„Sh, it’s alright, I’m going to take care of you now, darling“, he says, before roughly tugging your panties down.

His hands settle on your waist, his grip on you so hard that you’re sure that it’ll leave bruises tomorrow.

Then, without warning, he licks along your clit, before his tongue delves into your folds.

„Coryo - I - fuck!“, you pant, moaning, hands tugging desperately at his hair, trying to keep yourself grounded against this immense pleasure that’s threatening to overwhelm you.

He looks up at you then, his tongue delving into you, reaching that sweet spot inside you that has you seeing stars, one of his hands finding its way to your clit, drawing teasing circles over it.

You can’t help but moan again - the sight of Coriolanus between your legs, looking up at you like that, is almost enough to send you over the edge.

His tongue reaches that spot inside you once more, before he suddenly pulls away again, looking up at you with a smirk on his swollen, slick-covered lips.

„Gonna make you feel good, show you that there’s only you - you’re it for me, baby“, he promises, his thumb still drawing lazy circles over your clit.

He doesn’t give you any time to respond, though, his tongue delving between your folds again, and you throw your head back, moaning.

You desperately try to buck up your hips again, trying to create some sort of friction, but Coriolanus‘s hand is still on your waist, his iron-grip keeping you in place.

„Coryo, please“, you whine, but he doesn’t acknowledge your breathy whimpers, his tongue unrelenting as it pushes into you again and again and again, at the same time that his fingers are still circling over your clit.

You whimper, tugging at his hair again - so hard that it probably hurts, but Coryo only acknowledges your action with a satisfied groan that seems to reverberate deep within your core.

The pressure inside you keeps building and building, almost unbearable now, yet Coriolanus keeps going - his tongue hitting that spot inside you again and again, his fingers stimulating your clit.

You’re a panting, quivering mess; you’re so close - and Coriolanus seems to sense it as well, increasing the pressure of his fingers on your clit, while he finally releases the iron grip his other hand had on your waist, reaching up towards your breasts.

„Coryo, I - fuck, I’m gonna-“, you pant, trying to warn him.

He looks up at you then, his pupils dark and blown, the expression in his eyes wild, intense and desperate. That does it for you, then - seeing him look up at you like that, his head between your legs, his tongue inside you; it sends you over the edge.

You come with a loud moan, back arching, hand searching frantically for Coryo’s. He squeezes your hand then, guiding you through your orgasm, as you come harder than you’ve ever come before.

His mouth is still on your clit and he laps up all your juices - the sensation too much for your oversensitive nerves and with a loud cry, you come again for a second time.

Coriolanus takes it all, actually smirking up at you. Normally, you’d roll your eyes at him, but you’re too exhausted, so you settle on tugging hard on his curls.

Coriolanus just smirks again, before pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. The action has you squirming - you’re still so sensitive and exhausted from your two back-to-back orgasms.

Coriolanus presses yet another kiss on your thigh, before finally coming up again, hands settling on your waist, claiming your lips in a hungry, desperate kiss.

„Fuck, maybe I should make you jealous more often, darling.“

for more Coryo imagines, take a look at my Coryo masterlist :)

[roosterforme]

The Dirty Details | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The details of how Bradley lost his virginity come as a surprise to you. When you learn how and why he became a consent king, your heart breaks for him. You vow to do everything you can to always make him feel as loved and comfortable as he makes you feel, in and out of the bedroom.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of sex while intoxicated, mentions of sexual assault

Length: 2200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

When you walked into the Hard Deck with Bradley's arm slung over your shoulder, you looked up at him and said, "This is the first time we've been here together since we got married."

"You're right," he rasped, kissing your forehead. "And now I've got this new hardware on my finger that repels all other women."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you told him with a laugh as you led the way through the huge New Year's Eve crowd. "That one over there is looking at you, Roo. Hold up your left hand."

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. "You're the only one I'm looking at, Baby Girl."

"That's Mrs. Bradshaw to you."

Bradley smirked when you smiled at him. "You're just begging to leave early, aren't you?"

You shrugged casually, but you knew for a fact that you'd be able to get Bradley to leave before midnight if you bugged him enough. If you told him you wanted him to take you to bed, he'd be leading you back to the Bronco right away.

But instead you walked into Jake's open arms and hugged him. "Angel," he drawled as he turned you to face the bar. "Your cute coworker is here."

You searched the bar area, and sure enough your eyes found Cat Coleman's, and she waved to you. "Why don't you go talk to her?" you suggested, but Jake adamantly refused. 

"No, it was just an observation," he said before wandering over to Nat. He was so transparent, it was ridiculous. 

"Okay, Jake," you muttered, and then Bradley was handing you a beer.  

"Hey, how was your trip to Maryland for Christmas?" Nat asked as she gave you a hug.

Before you could even respond, Jake loudly said, "Didn't you hear? They didn't even go anywhere at all. Rooster here has been trying to figure out how things work since he lost his virginity on their wedding night. Missed Christmas all together since he's been trying for weeks to find the clit."

You started laughing, and you could feel and hear Bradley's laughter behind you. 

"Hey, Hangman," he said, chuckling. "Fuck you."

"Yeah, Hangman," Nat replied. "That's not how Rooster lost his virginity. I know the whole scoop on that one." She was wiggling her eyebrows and looking smug.

"You do?" you asked Nat, suddenly shocked at the realization that you had no idea about any of the details of your husband's first time.

You turned to look up at Bradley as he sipped his beer, cheeks pink as he met your gaze. 

"Yep," Nat replied, her tone teasing. "Seventeen years old in the backseat of his car with a college girl. An older woman!"

"Really?" you asked Bradley, and he just nodded at you. "She was in college? How old was she?"

"Twenty," Bradley told you quietly while Nat and Jake hooted loud enough to get Payback and Fanboy in on the conversation, too. You could vaguely hear them all comparing their own virginity dirty details, but all you could see was the strange look on Bradley's face.

"What's wrong, Roo?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Would a quickie in the bathroom make you feel better?" You started to pull him toward the hallway with a grin, but he just shook his head. 

"Nah. Not tonight."

You couldn't remember the last time he had turned you down in any capacity. Had he ever? Certainly not recently since you'd come off birth control, since you'd become his wife. You were honestly a little stunned. 

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, Sweetheart," he replied, kissing your forehead. "Wanna play pool?"

But you could tell something was definitely bothering him, even after you agreed to be his partner against Jake and Javy. Because he was awfully quiet compared to how he normally was, and his smile just wasn't quite reaching his eyes. 

But he still pulled you into his arms whenever you were near him, so you let him play a few rounds of pool and have another beer before you tugged on his hand. "Ready to head home?" you asked, tucking yourself against his side. 

"You don't want to stay until midnight?" he asked, eyebrows raised as you looked up at him. 

"No. I want to take you home, Roo."

It took twenty minutes to say goodbye to everyone which meant that you were just pulling into the driveway at the stroke of midnight. Bradley had been singing along to his Motown playlist, and when he put the Bronco in park, you climbed onto his lap. 

"Happy New Year, Baby Girl," he rasped. Then your lips softly met his while he finished singing Baby I Need Your Loving. 

"Will you tell me what's wrong now, Roo?" you asked. You didn't want to press him if he didn't want to talk about it, but he'd been fine when you first arrived at the bar. 

"It's nothing. It's so stupid," he whispered, taking the key out of the ignition and sighing as he climbed out with you in his arms. Once he set you down, you strolled up to the front door with him right at your heels, and you paused with the key in the lock. 

"Okay. But you listen to me all the time. Even when it's something stupid."

"You never say anything stupid, Baby Girl," he kissed your cheek as you opened the door. He was being lovely, but you wanted him to open up for you. He always felt better whenever he did. 

When you made your way to the bedroom and turned on the lamp on your nightstand, Bradley's beautiful face was bathed in soft light, but his brow was pinched in frustration. You pressed your lips together to keep yourself quiet, and a minute later, you were rewarded not only by your husband in just his underwear, but also by his voice. 

"You know how Nat said she knows how I lost my virginity?" 

He was looking down at the bedding and running his fingers through his hair when you whispered, "Yeah?" You crawled to the middle of the bed, but he remained standing next to his side. 

"Well, she doesn't really know what happened. Nobody does." He laughed a bit awkwardly. "Well I guess one other person does."

You nodded and patted the bed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," he grunted as he collapsed back against the pillows. "It makes me uncomfortable."

And for the first time ever, you felt like maybe he didn't want you to touch him. You were dying to know what was bothering him. No matter what it was, you wanted to try to fix it, try to give him comfort. That's what he always did for you. But you were at a complete loss right now, silently begging your husband to keep talking. 

He swallowed hard, and you watched his Adam's apple move against the scars on his neck. "Yeah, I was seventeen. Yeah, it was in the backseat of my mom's old, white station wagon that I had been driving. Yeah, it was with a girl who was in college. Her name was Morgan."

You licked your lips and kept your eyes on him while he looked at the ceiling. "I told you this was stupid, Sweetheart. I don't know why it still bothers me." When he reached out for your hand, you felt instantly better and worse at the same time. "I was drunk. It was a little while after my mom died, and I was living with her cousin Brenda. You remember Brenda, from when we were in Virginia?"

"Of course," you replied, playing with his fingers. "How could I forget? I met her when we got engaged. She wants us to come visit again this summer."

"Yeah," Bradley agreed. "Brenda is great." Then he paused for a few beats. "And you know, she tried so hard to make me feel comfortable and welcome there, but I just... didn't. I spent my senior year of high school partying with this group of college kids. We'd all go out in this wooded area near the lake and drink cheap liquor on the weekends. It was right after Mav pulled my papers. A couple months before my eighteenth birthday."

When he reached for you, there was no hesitation as you scrambled into his arms. You settled against his chest, his warm skin and the steady beat of his heart calmed you immediately, and you hoped you were giving him some comfort as well. 

"That girl, Morgan? I thought she was so cool at first. She was studying anthropology. She was smart. She got me drunk and didn't get upset when I talked about my mom. We would make out by the lake. Then one night, I was so drunk, and she told me to take her to my car. I thought we were just going to make out in the backseat."

"Oh, Bradley." You felt sick to your stomach. 

"I didn't tell her no, but I was too drunk to say much of anything. She knew that, but we did it anyway. In the back of my mom's car." 

You squeezed him tight as tears leaked from your eyes. "Roo. She took advantage of you. She should have never. That is not okay."

He sighed, and the sound of it made more tears fill your eyes. "I've never told anyone about it before. I feel a little better now."

"I love you, Roo," you promised, meeting his eyes. And somehow he was the one wiping your tears away when you were supposed to be comforting him. "You sweet man. That wasn't stupid. And you can tell me when something is bothering you. I want you to."

"I know," he agreed. "But sometimes it's hard to think about that night for more than a second. I try not to."

Then you sobbed as realization washed over you, and he pulled you a little closer. "Oh, Bradley! I've convinced you to have sex with me when you were drunk! More than once!"

"No, no, stop," he said firmly, kissing your lips. "It's not the same, Baby Girl."

"But if I ever made you feel uncomfortable-"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "We are in a committed relationship. We have been pretty much from the start. I always want you, and I initiate it 90% of the time when I've been drinking. You always have my consent, and I know you'd stop if I ever gave you the impression that I didn't want it. And I know you would never hurt me."

"Never," you agreed, letting your cheek rest on his shoulder. After a few minutes, you whispered, "You know, there's one really positive thing that came from this though."

"Is there?" he asked, a little skeptical as you stroked your fingers along his tattoo. 

"Yeah. You're the consent king. And I think you always were, even before we met."

"Hmm," he grunted. "Yeah, that's really important to me."

"I love that," you told him, kissing up along his neck until you reached his lips. "And I love you. And you're mine. And Morgan can take her anthropology degree and fucking kick rocks while she thinks about how terrible she is."

Bradley laughed. And your face melted into a smile as you realized how tense your body had been. 

"I fucking love you," he promised. And you knew he did.

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

When you woke up the next morning to Bradley's lips on your shoulder as you were draped across him, you whispered, "Happy New Year."

"Mmhmm," he hummed against your skin. You wanted him in the worst way. He was so big and warm, and he smelled so good. He was yours. He was your husband. He was patient and sweet and everything you needed. And now, especially today, you wanted to make sure he knew that you really saw him. 

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

His lips paused on your shoulder as he rasped, "Yes. Please, touch me."

So you let your hands roam along the muscular planes of his abdomen and chest. You gently dug your fingers into his bicep. You grazed the scars on his cheek with your nose.

"Will you let me kiss you, Roo?"

He responded by kissing you first. His mustache was rough against your skin, but everything else about his embrace was so soft. His lips lingered before chasing yours over and over again.

Your voice was soft, lips brushing his. "I want to have sex with you, if that's what you want."

He kissed his way along your jaw to your ear. "I see what you're doing here, Baby Girl. And I love you for it. Yes, I want to have sex with you, too."

So you took it nice and slow, and you made sure he was comfortable, even though you were certain you could read all of his cues by now. But you'd remember to take that extra step here and there. It wouldn't be hard to do, because he always gave you more than you ever expected. You'd always remind him that what he wanted and needed was important to you, because that was exactly how he made you feel every day.

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

This one hurts a little bit. Because this really happens. I hope you can't relate to what Roo went through here, but if you can, I love you. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

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[mayghosts]

🎉- pleasseeee sabrina w/ lunch🙏 and the homoerotic friendship/its complicated trope i am begging🙏🙏🙏

LUNCH: (Sabrina Ionescu x reader)

Summary: You and Sab have been close friends since she moved to New York, but lately things have felt… different

Warnings: its porn with a plot 🫶😁

AN: part of my 500 followers celebration!! I don’t write a ton of smut, so...!!

Standing at your kitchen counter, you could hear the shower turn off. As you waited for Sabrina to come out you settled onto the living room couch, flicking through the Netflix menu.

Ever since you two met at a party last September, you had become somewhat inseparable. However, with Sabrinas busy schedule and your constant need to travel for work, you guys often found yourself having sleepovers to make up for the lost time during the day. Tonight was just like any night, except for Sabrinas weird behavior.

She came directly from practice, her wet hair in a messy bun and a tee shirt and sweats. Even though she had showered at the arena, she asked to shower again, which was nothing new. It was just the way she looked at you when you opened the door, the slight dusting of pink on her cheeks when you handed her a sweatshirt and PJ shorts to borrow, and the way her eyes lingered as you closed the door behind her.

Maybe you were crazy. Maybe you just didn’t pay enough attention to the details. Maybe things had always been like this. You were probably projecting. Still, in your gut, you knew something had changed. Something is different.

You stood to flick off the lights. Leaving only a soft glow from the salt lamp on the counter and your tv to illuminate the small living room. Grabbing the candy and miscellaneous snacks you had bought earlier, you settled back onto the couch. Waiting for the girl to come back out to finish the last few episodes of Bridgerton.

You smiled, hearing your bedroom door click open. Turning to nag the girl for taking forever, you suddenly felt your mouth watering at the sight of her. Donning your favorite Navy hoodie and a pair of white pj shorts that fit you perfectly (but were a little too short on her), you could feel your cheeks heat up. Pushing the multitude of impulsive thoughts that arose at the sight of her to the side, you grinned at her. “Took you long enough! I bought a bunch of snacks when I went out earlier so feel free.”

She hummed at your words, flopping next to you on the couch. “Did we finish Bridgeton last time I can’t remember.” She immediately scooched next to you, plopping her legs ontop of yours under the blanket. “Uhh yeah… I think we have a few more episodes left! Hold on lets see.”

You clicked anxiously at the remote. Things had been tense between you two before, but you always assumed it was one sided. Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself here, a look and a blush dosen't mean she wants you. Unless....

Staying focused on the TV was harder then you thought it would be. The weight and warmth of Sabrinas legs served as a constant reminder to your predicament. As you zoned out at the wall above the TV you could feel her eyes watching you.

You turned your head to smile at her, "What Sab?" She was silent for a moment, she had that same look on her face from earlier. Gently, she pulled you in, tugging on your sweatshirt. "You are the prettiest girl I know. You know that right?" You sucked in a breath, clenching your jaw at the words. Attempting to pull yourself together you glanced at your lap, before looking up at her again. "Sabrina what are you saying?"

"Kiss me, please?" You let her pull you ontop of her. She quickly licked her lips, gazing up at you. Cupping her face in one hand you rested your other hand around her neck. "Is that really a good idea?" You wanted to kiss her so bad, but things like this never end well. Softly you stroked her cheek with your thumb, waiting for her to make a decision. Maybe you could kiss her? I mean you really wanted to. You watched her lips as she spoke.

"I don't mean to make you uncomfterable if you don't want to I just-" You quickly cut her off mid scentence with a quick kiss. She looked about as shocked as you felt. "So I guess thats a yes?" Grinning at her you leaned in to meet her in the middle.

What started as a light and airy kiss, quickly delved into an intense and hungry kiss. Holding your hips in a death grip, Sabrina kept pulling you closer and closer. The space between you felt nonexistant, with your hands now tangeled in her partly dry hair.

Pulling away from the kiss, you immediately made your way to her neck. Sucking deep purple and red marks into her pale neck as she squirmed beneath you. You could feel her hands slipping under your shirt as she guided you back up to her lips. "Off please." You hummed at her words, letting her pull your sweatshirt off.

Once again you found yourself lost in the kiss. Both of you moving in perfect sync, and her hands all over your chest was enough to distract you from Sabrina flipping you two over and laying you back on the couch.

She pulled away for a moment. Her blonde hair was dangling around her face and her lips were slightly swollen and red. Moving away from your lips, she started her ruthless attack on your neck and colarbones. Her actions left you dizzy in the head, you faintly murmered "God Sab, you're so perfect."

You could feel her smile against the skin on your sternum as she listened to your reactions. Gently skimming her thumb over your nipple, she came back up to capture your whine with her mouth. As she continued to tease you, she slipped a knee between your leg, which only caused you to emit a more embarrasing string of sounds.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty baby." As she pulled away, she made her way back down your torso, leaving red and purple marks in her wake. As she reached the waistband of your pants, she looked up at you. You whined, "Please Sab..."

Grinning at you she responded, "Please what baby? Want me to fuck you?" You nodded eagrly at her words, lifting your hips so she could slide your sweats off.

Situating herself between your thighs, she immediately got to work nibbling on the inside of your thighs. Lovingly, you pulled her hair out of the way, savouring the whine she let out when you accidentally tugged a bit. "C'mon -brina please?" You bucked your hips slightly as her nose brushed your cunt. Listening to your request, she slowly pulled the waistband of your underwear down. Licking a stripe up your pussy.

Immediately your hands found her hair as she continued to tease you with her tounge, before she started with slow circles on your clit. "Fuck baby, you like that?" the whimpers you let out were straight up pornographic as you attemped to buck your hips for more. "More baby please" you tugged at her hair gently causing her to let out a small whine.

She swapped her hand for her tounge, speeding up the pace as she slowly dipped one finger into your cunt. Slowly, she began to pump the finger before adding a second. Your grip on her head only got tighter as you moaned her name over and over. "Fuck Sabrina, I'm so close!"

The desperate tone of your voice and your grip on her hair only seemed to drive her as she reached a hand up to toy with a nipple. Bucking your hips slightly, you squeezed your thighs around her head, cumming hard. She slowed her pace, fucking you through your orgasm.

Pulling her fingers out of your dripping cunt, she hovered above you, gently pressing a kiss to your lips before getting up to find a towle. Gently she cleaned up your mess, before helping you into bed and cuddling you close.

As you lay there, drifting off to sleep, you couldn't help but think how this would all work out tomorrow. As well as how you were gonna get her moaning your name next time.

[morgluvsconnie]

BOUND, c.springer

chap.5 | drinking, mild sexual reference, basically just a build up for the next chapter! | chap.4

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

everyone yelled as mikasa took her hand from over your eyes. you smiled and put your hand on your heart. “yalllll, stoppp.” you bit your lip, looking at the decorations and bags of gifts.

“you finally growing up, that shit crazy.” eren wiped a fake tear and shook his head.

your eyes scanned the long table, which fit everyone in it. you were surprised that the rest of sasha’s friends came.

“my bitchhh!” sasha hopped up, hugging you and kissing your cheek. “you’re so pretty.” she poked your cheek, making you smile. you sat at the end of the table. “thank you, like, for real. is this a whole private room?” you looked around at the beautiful theme of the restaurant.

“my pockets hurt.” armin raised his eyebrow. you smiled and covered your face with your hands.

suddenly, a bunch of waiters came in, carrying a big, pretty cake, placing it in front of you. you clapped your hands out of excitement and stood up from your stool.

with your little birthday tiara on and your birthday ribbon, you clamped your hands together as everyone started to sing happy birthday to you, getting to the end where you could finally blow out your candles.

“now cut the cake.” connie smiled a little, passing you a knife.

you cut your cake, and everyone else a piece, sasha hopping back up to pass them out.

“i feel like a child again.” you smiled softly, sitting on your stool as the waiters placed the cake in the middle of the table.

“now she think she grown ‘cus she 102, okay.” eren slowly shook his head, being the first one halfway through his cake. you gave him a playful “shut up” look and started eating your cake.

“sasha slow down.” mikasa frowned. “anyway, y/nnn, what you wanna do today? everybody’s whole day is yours.” mikasa smiled at you. “nah, ‘cus i got some sneaky links i needa see.” ony said, raising his eyebrows, everybody giving him a death stare.

“chillll. i’m fuckin witchu. my day yours, best friend.” ony put his hands up in defense.

“ion really know, ion think about things like this when my birthday comes, only before it.” you laughed a little.

“so i’ll plan the whole day.” armin nodded.

“armin, if you plan the whole day, somebody gon end up dying.” eren mumbled, reaching in front of him to cut his self another piece of cake.

“ima plan it, that’s my friend.” ony waved eren and armin off.

“you just met y/n like two days ago.” connie scoffed at ony. ony frowned and squinted, lookingat connie. “and you met her like three days ago. that don’t make nothing better. now i said that’s my friend, ain’t that right y/n?” ony looked at you.

you laughed and nodded.

“y/n can plan the day, even if she don’t know what to do.” mikasa bucked at everybody.

“girl.” eren slowly shook his head, making everyone laugh.

“who’s a gentleman?” you looked up.

“me.” all the guys looked at you.

~

“man, ian even mean to say me, i was tryna say i needed some more meat.” ony groaned, carrying all the shopping bags for you. connie looked at ony. “we ain’t even have no damn meat.” connie said, also carrying bags.

“can y’all not complain for like… three seconds?” mikasa squinted at the boys behind the three of you. “it’s y/n’s birthday. everyone should be happy to give her what she wants.”

“i’m goin broke.” armin muttered, slowly shaking his head.

“when ain’t you broke?” eren looked at armin. “you bein funny?” armin raised his eyebrows. eren smacked his lips. “remember what happened last time we fought.”

“that was in sixth grade.”

“okay, everything goes in connie’s car because hes dropping it off later on tonight, and then we can split up and get ready to go out.” sasha said as you and mikasa both headed towards her car.

you and mikasa closed the doors, sasha starting her car, not even thinking to wait on them. “okay so we’re going to your house to get ready.” she pointed to you. mikasa sat in the back, stretched across the seat.

“whys it always my house?”

“because your house is like… the hangout spot.” mikasa laughed a little. “oh yeah, what’re you wearing tonight?” she leaned up to look at you.

“some revealing ass outfit sasha picked out, i don’t know.” you shrugged. “it’s literally cute, okay it shows a buncha ass, and? you have plenty to show off.” sasha waved you off.

“well what color is it?” mikasa asked, scrolling on her phone. sasha thought about it for a few seconds “white.”

mikasa nodded. “so me and sasha can wear white and black and you can wear white and pink ‘cus you’re the birthday girl.” mikasa poked your cheek, making you smile. “yeah, i’ll just wear pink heels, pink accessories, and my birthday ribbon, that’s everything pink. my nails are already done, toes…” as you were naming things you glanced back to see mikasa with her hand over her heart.

“you’re growing up so fast, it makes me sad.” she poked her bottom lip out. you laughed and shook your head. “it’s nothing for real. just one more year of bein sexy.” you flipped your hair in a playful way, making sasha and mikasa laugh.

the ride wasn’t long to get to your house. considering how long you were at the mall, it was already dimming outside when you made it home. and considering how long it was gonna take you to get ready, all three of you specifically, it was gonna be late by the time you went out.

“alright, come on.” sasha turned off her car, everyone getting out and going towards your house. you unlocked the door and let them in, everyone going upstairs.

“okay, so i’m gonna go through your clothes and my clothes.” mikasa said as she got in your room. since her and sasha weren’t even guests anymore, they already had a bunch of clothes at your house. and a bunch means a bunch.

“i’m gonna take a quick shower.” sasha got towels out of your bathroom closet. “with the door open.” she finished, turning on your shower.

you grabbed your jumpsuit and looked at it. “this looks really small.”

“it’s supposed to be, most likely. gotta hug that body.” mikasa said, sitting on your closet floor and going through the bag of things she had.

“this or this?” she held up two different white dresses. you pursed your lips together and hummed. “they’ll both look good so… it really don’t matter.” you raised your eyebrows with a shrug. mikasa rolled her eyes at your answer. “i’m asking you thoughhh.” she said, looking at the dresses.

“that one then.” you said, not even looking at the dresses. “perfect, i knew i should pick this one.” mikasa hopped up.

after a few minutes of mikasa retouching her makeup, she finally walked back over towards where her clothes were, you gluing your lashes back the way they were.

“yall done?” sasha yelled from the shower, cutting it off.

“girl we barely started.” you mumbled, taking off your dress and walking to your night stand to find your favorite perfume. “you’re literally naked.” sasha mumbled, putting a towel over herself. “i have a bra and panties on sasha, you’re naked.” you said, tossing your perfume on the bed and grabbing the jump suit.

“what if i wear a thong with this?” you held it up for a few seconds before sticking your legs through it and pulling it up.

mikasa put on her dress and looked in your body mirror. “lucky for whoever you lay tonight.” she said. you went in the bathroom where sasha was putting her body suit on, looking in the mirror.

“i hope nobody.” you said, turning around in the mirror. “this is cuteeee.” you smiled before sitting your leg on top of the toilet, tying the strings on the back.

sasha helped with the string on your back and nodded. “really cute.” she said, zipping up the front of her outfit, walking to your room to find her black heels.

“i have to curl my hair, hold up.” sasha said.

you and mikasa groaned. “were gonna be forever.” mikasa mumbled.

and yeah, you were forever. but the drive was only about five minutes from your house. everyone sprayed on more perfume before getting out of the car. “this things gonna give me a wedgie.” you mumbled, making sasha and mikasa chuckle. “you’ll be fine.” mikasa said, showing all three of your IDs and walking in the club.

you smiled as the atmosphere filled your eyes and ears.

“it’s my best friends birthday, you see this?” sasha said to a random guy, pointing at your pink ribbon.

mikasa led you and her through the crowd, finding the spot everyone would normally be. to your surprise, it was empty, only eren and armin rolling up blunts. “damn where everybody at?” mikasa frowned.

“ony talkin to some girl and connie prolly doin the same.” eren said, dabbing the blunt with his tongue while looking at mikasa. “i said where.” mikasa furrowed her eyebrows.

“armin, talk to her ‘cus if i do…” eren shook his head.

“they went over there last time i saw.” armin pointed to a direction, you looking that way. “i’ll find em.” sasha said, walking towards where armin was pointing. “i’m finna get a drink, i’ll be back.” you turned to walk towards the bar, standing instead of sitting in a stool like you’d normally do.

“can i get two shots?” you crossed your arms on the counter. “straight up?” the bartender laughed a little. “what shot?”

“your choice.” you mumbled.

“birthday girl.” you heard someone say from beside you. you glanced over, double taking as you saw connie. “connie, sasha’s lookin for you.” you smiled a little as your shots were brought to you.

connie grabbed one and drunk it, putting the cup down. you smacked your lips and squinted. “i was gon drink that, thank you.” you softly moved him away from you to take the second one.

“ion care. you look good tonight.” connie mumbled, scanning your body before looking away and drinkin from his cup. you looked at him and tilted your head. “really?”

“what i gotta lie for?”

you looked at him for a few seconds before scoffing and calling the bartender back over. “can i have four more? two for each.” you then looked at connie.

“sure. who’s paying?” the bartender leaned on the counter.

connie stared into your eyes for some seconds, his eyes flickering to your lips, just for a second as he reached in his pocket, pulling out some bills and passing them to the bartender.

you gave him a small smile.

“that’s one out of the three of yo presents, ight?” he rested his eyes on you. you raised your eyebrows. “what’s the other two?”

“still thinking.” he pursed his lips together and looked at the counter. “where ya boyfriend at?”

you frowned a little. “reiner?”

connie nodded, looking at the shots as the bartender sat them in front of you.

as you went to grab one, it tipped over on your hand. you groaned. “look what you made me do.” you muttered as you both grabbed a shot, taking them at the same time.

connie grabbed the last one, sipping half of it and then passing it to you. “i don’t drink after randoms.” you said, looking him up and down.

connie lazily blinked, grabbing your jaw and tilting your head back. “open yo mouth.”

as you mindlessly did as he said, he poured the rest of the shot in your mouth. “answer my question.” he put the glass back down as you swallowed. you rolled your eyes. “if your question made me waste my shot, what you think the answer is?” you narrowed your eyes.

“oh y’all ain’t together no more?”

“you know that. i told you that.”

“oh.” connie bit his lip and looked towards the crowd.

you didn’t know it, well, you felt it, you were starting to get drunk. and he was too, you could tell because that’s how he looked when he was high.

you didn’t even know you were staring, once again.

you also didn’t realize you hadn’t wiped that shot off your hand. you waved your hand, and grabbed a napkin, wiping everywhere it dripped.

when you were finished, connie grabbed your hand, looking at your nails. “cute.” he mumbled, rubbing your pink nails with his thumb.

you snatched your hand away with a soft laugh.

connie slightly frowned, grabbing your hand again.

you moved it away again, connie frowned even harder, grabbing your hand and forearm, looking at your wrist.

“the fuck?”

chap.6

[god-has-entered-my-body]

What time you coming out? - M.H x Reader // pt.1

A/N: Lenas writer debut??? Omg??? This has a bunch of references to fics like the cellophane house (written by the lovely @vinylandcoffeecollection, srsly check out their work!). It's a bit angsty? Not really but angst will come this is a chaptered fic. Based off fallingforyou, hence the title. Thank you @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff for beta reading and putting up with me xx

wc: 11k

part two

February, 2008

“I'm not sure we should be doing this, neither of us is a professional hairdresser in any capacity” 

Mötley Crüe’s ‘Public Enemy #1’ blares through the small speaker set on top of the toilet lid, the music reverberating off the bathroom's tiled walls. Matty attempts to brush the bleach onto your hair, narrowly missing your eyebrow for what felt like the sixth time. You'd prefer to not come out of this situation looking like 90s madonna if you could help it. 

“Could you maybe not get the stuff on my face? I'm not sure I'd look as amazing as I do with bleached brows,” you say, flicking Mattys hand away from your hair, straightening your posture on top of the sink. Your elbow accidently knocks into the faucet and you curse out loud. 

“You're right love, you'd look well hideous without brows” Matty retorts, laughing in your face. He's right, doesn't mean he has to say it.

“At least I have any sort of eyebrows, I'd get yours filled in if I was you.” Now it's your turn to laugh at him, his jaw hitting the floor at your comment. He clutches his chest with his hand, bending over for dramatic effect as if to say: “You wound me”. You fall into each other's arms, fighting over the ipod once again.

The song changes, and Matty resumes his attempts at bleaching your hair properly, failing once again. It had been a stupid, stoned impulse decision to buy the bleach at all. The local drugstore sold it for cheap, and you had some pocket change on you. Matty wanted you to buy the red dye, and you dismissed him immediately, because even he knew you'd look absolutely terrible as a redhead. 

You hum along softly to David Bowie's “Suffragette City”. Bowie was your Idol. The song reminds you of him. Of Matty. It reminds you of when you first met.

—------------------------------------------------------

You were 15, pacing the street late at night, your boyfriend was blowing up your phone. Insincere apologies and “i love you”’s filled your screen. 4 missed calls. Tears were streaming down your face, making you not quite able to see straight. 

The song playing, was blaring in your headphones, almost deafening. The song didn't fit at all to your current situation, but that didn't bother you.

It wasn't long before you reached a bus stop, sitting down. You didn't even know where you were. 

Suddenly, like it was out of your control, you let out broken sobs, no longer silently crying. How fucking embarrassing.

You're not sure how long you’d been sitting there, in the dark, shivering in the cruel November weather. 

You hadn't even noticed the person walking up to you. 

He’d positioned himself in front of you, twisting his neck to get a look underneath your hood.

“You alright?” his voice sounded soft, concerned even. Through muffled sobs, you managed to look up at him. 

He had a thick, fluffy jacket on. Oddly feminine for bloke, and you were pretty sure it was a women's coat. It basically swallowed him whole. You almost laughed at the sight. It almost made you forget about the night's events. 

You’d had yet another fight with your boyfriend, Phillip. The two of you fought a lot, but never like this. Sure, he’d said some hurtful things, things you maybe shouldn't have forgiven as quickly as you did, but he had never, ever, gotten violent with you. Until tonight.

You'd barely registered it when it happened, your brain not properly processing his actions. In the midst of his screaming, he raised his hand. Raised. his. hand. 

It came down with a crash against your left cheek, the sound echoing through the house. Because he did, in fact, have his own flat. Because 24 year olds usually have that. 

Everything hit you at once. You'd managed to pick yourself up off the ground at a speed which would have given even world record holders a run for their money. You didn't bother grabbing anything else, you just needed to get out, now. 

You could faintly hear his voice calling out from behind you, begging you to please, please come back. And what? Let him put his hands on you again? No way. A rare moment of clarity.

Fucking cunt 

You’re brought back to reality by the sound of the stranger's voice. 

“I’m Matty.” he offered his hand, and you shook it. “What're you doing out here in the cold? Its fuckin’ freezing.” He's right, it was cold. It hadn't occurred to you to take your coat with you.

You stuttered out a pathetic response of your name, barely making eye contact with him. A few beats pass before Matty starts ruffling around in his coat pockets. Raising your eyebrows, you watch him.

You can hear the faint sound of keys in his right pocket, and it's not long before he pulls out a joint from his left. It looks crumpled and old, like it had been there for a while. 

“Spliff? It looks like you need it more than me.” He chuckles, and it somehow makes you feel better. He makes a move to sit next to you, and you twitch slightly when his shoulder touches yours. The bench is quite narrow, so you know it's not on purpose. It doesn't bother you quite as much as it should, given he is a stranger. 

He takes out his lighter. It looks old and used, the black plastic chipping off around the top. It looks like it's a miracle it even works. You can see white writing along the side of it. M.H. Initials? His initials? Matty H something.  

He starts burning the tip. Rotating the joint to get an even burn, you watch his movements closely, taking in some of his features. 

His hair was curly but frizzy, you could tell he didn't pay it much mind. His features seemed soft, almost feminine. He was clean shaven, his pale skin a stark contrast to the dark brown of his hair. 

Matty lets you take the first drag, stating “The first hit’s the best, and I've always been a gentleman”, flashing a grin your way. That made you laugh. You take a drag, letting the warm feeling spread through your body.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked timidly, his voice lowering. 

“Absolutely not.” You mutter, looking him straight in the eyes for what seems like the first time that night. A smile.  

—-------------------------------------------------------

“D’you think I'd look good as a blonde? I feel like I'd smash it,” Matty says, inspecting his hair in the mirror behind you. He has gorgeous locks, and you're constantly telling him to try and take care of them, he just doesn't listen. You study his features before giving him an answer.

“Maybe. Either that or you'd look like a bad hooker,” Matty gasps, shoving your shoulder in protest. The movement  makes your elbow bang against the faucet again, but you ignore the pain this time 

“I'll let you know i'd make an amazing hooker, thanks very much,” He proclaims quite loudly, making the both of you burst into a laughing fit. 

You take the brush from Matty, twirling in your hand. George had taught you how to do that. An idea pops into your head. 

“We could give you a few blonde highlights, just to try it out. There's no need for you to go full Elle Woods immediately” A giggle escapes your lips, picturing Matty with long, blonde hair. That’d be a sight. 

“Let's do it, right now,” he breathes, visibly excited.

“Really? Adam’d take the absolute piss out of you, you know.” Matty rolls his eyes obnoxiously before he speaks. “Well then let Adam hold on to his toxic ideas of masculinity, I need a change.” This piques your interest. Matty? Need a change? Weird. 

“What, did some bird break your heart this time? That's new, even for you Matthew,”

You can see him visibly cringe at your use of his full name. You know he hates it, and that is exactly why you do it. Getting a rise out of him is your favorite pastime. 

“Switch with me then,” you say, and he obliges, letting you hop off the counter. You mix up a new batch of bleach and part off his hair into small sections. Little pink hair bands hold his curls in place. You shoot him a look and he nods, giving you the go-ahead. The bleach goes on smoothly, your practiced hand much less prone to mistakes than Mattys.

It doesn't take long before you're both sitting on your bed with foils in your hair. You manage to snap a picture of Matty on your polaroid camera. The light reflects off the foils, distorting the picture slightly. Matty demands to see it, but you decide to keep it for yourself. Can't get everything you want.  

It's Mattys' turn on the music. 

You've decided on a turn system for music when you're together, to avoid the gnarly fights you used to have over who gets to control the ipod.

He picks the latest Deftones album. It's not really your taste, and you tell him as much. 

“S’not my fault your music taste consists of pop trash. Get well soon”, now it's your turn to shove him, and he almost falls off the bed. Your fights over music happened frequently. He insisted on listening to real music, while you couldn't care less if it sounded good. 

The timer dings and you both get up to wash your hair in the sink. Water splashes everywhere, absolutely soaking the bathroom. You don't care. It's just water. 

Towels litter the bathroom floor, soaking up the mess. Matty helps you dry your hair after you promise to help with his. The warm air feels nice on your neck. 

“I like it, it makes me look camp,” Matty states, admiring himself in the mirror. Of course he'd say something like that. 

“You look great, now get dressed, I've messaged Hann. He's picking us up at half 11” 

Adam was one of your best mates, and the only one who had a car. You and Matty were still in school, along with George, another one of your friends. Adam and Ross shared a flat on the outskirts of the city. Adam's mother had gifted him a car for his 18th birthday last year. A bright red Kia. Bumper stickers littered the back, your favorite reading ‘Vehicle of legends” 

Matty had borrowed one of your tops, specifically, a mesh top you'd gotten from Hollister a few weeks prior. It was adorned with a black tank top underneath, paired with the black skinny jeans you're convinced have fused with his legs at this point. 

His hair had dried, dark curls now in contrast with blonde streaks. They framed his face. He looked good. 

You’d gone for a more colorful ensemble, opting for baggy jeans instead of skinny ones. The bottom had already been well ripped up from years of dragging them on the ground. You paired said jeans with a wine-red off the shoulder jumper, the black strap of your bralette peaking out. You’d always loved that color. It reminded you of your favorite flowers, red roses.

The window closed softly, and you silently thanked God you lived on the first floor. Adam was already parked down the road from your house, impatiently waiting for the two of you. The radio was playing as you got in. Matty immediately started going on about how pop music has ruined the music scene and how it was all 'soulless, meaningless droning' and 'had no feeling anymore'. He always did this, and you'd learned to tune it out by then. 

The drive was short, and you arrived at your destination not long after you’d set off. The air smelled like water and wet pavement. It had been pissing down earlier in the day.  

‘The spot’ was an abandoned paper factory, affectionately renamed “Caroline's house” for any eavesdropping parents.  

Carolines had been abandoned for well over 5 years before you started hanging out there, not many knew about it.

The three of you had already made your way through the back entrance. The front had been blocked off years ago, a futile attempt at keeping kids out. There was one specific room you always went to, and that was the office. It had a huge terrace with an amazing view of the city below. The glowing lights made you feel small and irrelevant in the vastness of the world. 

The night was bright under the full moon, making it easy to see outside. Adam always brought an emergency flashlight with him when you went to Carolines. He was the voice of reason in the midst of the chaos. The responsible one. He always made sure everyone got home safe, talked your way out of situations with coppers on multiple occasions, and knew when to tell the bartender to switch drinks to water or juice. You’d always thank him the morning after. 

“What even is your shirt, mate,” Adam asked with a grin on his face. He loved to take the piss out of Matty for his camp-ness. No harm no foul, Matty would do the exact same to him when the opportunity presented itself. Eyeing him up and down, he shook his head and went back to picking at his nails.   

“She let me borrow it for tonight. Looks good, yeah?” Matty shoots back. 

“Yeah sure, that and those white streaks in your hair make you look like a proper girl, you know” 

You have to laugh at his statement, because it does ring true. From a certain distance, anyone could mistake Matty for a woman. 

“You wish I was a girl, it’d make you feel less guilty about your sex fantasies, innit?” Matty cackles at his own words. Adam chucks a lighter at him, and misses. It instead bounces off the railing of the terrace and clatters down onto the ground somewhere behind you. 

That was your cue to take out the small baggy from the pocket of your jeans. Going to look for the lighter Adam had just thrown, you turn around to see he’d already snatched your papes and weed, and started to roll a spliff. 

“Oh come on, I look away for a second and you steal my weed. What, are you too broke to buy your own?” You huffed, sitting down on the floor next to him. 

“Girls don't roll their own spliffs. You should know that by now, love” he said with a wink. 

Cue eye roll. 

“Oh thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Hann? Fuck off.” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. This was never a display of chivalry, it was simply Adams' way of trying to get under your skin. Your stubborn self wouldn't let him, of course. Flashing him an award winning smile, you lay back on your elbows and eye him as he rolls your joint for you. 

Matty was preoccupied with gathering enough cardboard so he could sit on the floor comfortably. The three of you couldn't be arsed bringing in furniture from the office, so you were left with the cold, unforgiving concrete floor of the terrace to sit on. 

The minutes ticked by and Adam took his sweet time, presenting the spliff with a look of pride. You reach for it, seeing as you already had the lighter in your hand. Instead of handing it to you. Adam shakes his head. 

“Girls dont light their own spliffs, either” You scoff at that, though deciding against smacking him upside the head. You hand him the lighter.  

Mattys giggles can be faintly heard over your bickering, and Adam finally lights up. The distinct earthy smell fills up the air around you. They both let you have the first drag, stating something along the lines of “Ladies first” another eye roll.  

“Fucking wankers”, you mutter under your breath, and finally, you inhale. It hits you almost immediately, a soft, fuzzy feeling that reverberates through your veins into every inch of your body. The two of them let out a laugh at your expression, utterly euphoric. 

Adam takes the next drag, hitting him just as hard as it did you. He leans against the glass sliding door, letting his eyes droop closed. 

“Fucking hell, this is some strong weed.” He lets out a rough cough, “Where’d you even get it from?” 

“Oh y’know, just some guy. Same as always I s’pose,” 

Matty spoke “What, d’you shag him or something? No one just gives out this type of premium stuff on a whim,” 

This makes you chuck the grinder at him. It hits him square in the chest. You hum contentedly, grinning at him in amusement when he doubles over in pain. You bicker back and forth, calling each other names. Adam passes the spliff back to you, and you take another hit. 

Time passes slowly. The clouds slowly reveal more and more of the full moon. It is quite beautiful tonight, you notice. 

Adam produces a bottle of tequila from his ‘gay-ass tote bag’ as Ross calls it. You take turns taking swigs straight from the bottle, Matty managing to spill some onto his mesh top, making quite literally everything reek of alcohol.

You felt good. The high mixed with the healthy amount of tequila made you feel like you were floating. You could tell Matty was just as hammered as you, seeing as he was now straddling Adams lap, trying to kiss him. 

After multiple attempts at getting him off, Matty stood up on his own, stating that he didn't want Hann to pop a boner au cause de his womanly features.   

The three of you laugh and laugh until you finish the spliff. You’d never had a good tolerance for anything, whether it be weed or alcohol. You weren't particularly small, it just always hit you way harder than Adam or Ross. Even Matty managed to pull himself together when the situation called for it. You, however, were stumbling and tripping over your feet the entire walk home. It had been pissing down the entire morning. Puddles littered the streets, not an ideal weather for someone who was too wasted to even have any sort of depth perception.  

Adam had to leave suddenly, picking up a last minute shift at the shop he worked at. It was in the opposite direction of where you came from, leaving you and Matty to walk home. 

It wasn't a long walk, 30 odd minutes or so. It was made significantly longer by your inability to walk in a straight line to save your life. Echoing laughs filled the streets as Matty helped you trudge along. Your pants dragged on the floor as usual, which meant they were also dragging through the numerous puddles, soaking them. 

You stop suddenly, looking down and pouting at the darkened material of your pants. For some inexplicable reason, this made you stomp your feet like a child. Matty broke out in uncontrollable laughter, tears forming in his eyes. You were actually acting like a child.

“I don't know why you insist on wearing those insanely baggy pants. Look at me! My pants don't get wet AND my ass looks phenomenal in skinny jeans” He twirls around you, making you feel slightly dizzy.

“Oh fuck off!! Not everyone is an attention slag like you, have some decency for once in your life!” You retort, shoving him out of your line of sight. Due to your state, Matty quickly catches up to you. 

The steps of your house come quicker than expected. Both of you make your way to the east side of the first floor, where your bedroom window remains slightly ajar. You'd wedged an old shirt between it to keep it from closing all the way. You'd gotten sneaking out down to an art, always knowing when, where and how. Your mother had caught you once. It was your first time. You knew not to make those same mistakes again.

Matty helped you hop onto the windows ledge, his hands grabbing at your sides. While he looked frail, Matty was actually quite strong, lifting you up without breaking a sweat. 

You're sitting on the edge, slightly taller than him now. Peering down, you reach your arms out. The two of you hugged tightly, whispering quiet “goodnight”s and “sleep well”s. Saying goodbye after a night out often felt strangely melancholic, you never wanted the other to leave. 

You've been attached at the hip since that night. He’d convinced you to break up with Phillip, stating he was a bastard who shouldn't be allowed near women ever again.

Matty went on to introduce you to his mates after you’d found out you went to the same highschool. That was nearly 3 years ago now. 

Late nights often make you wonder what would have happened if you hadn't gone to that specific bus stop and met Matty. If he had ignored your crying instead of offering you weed and sitting down next to you. He’d always been charming, like a magnet, he attracted everyone around him. Sure, he was a bit pretentious at times, but everyone has their faults. 

You roll over and try to sleep, slowly coming down from your high. You made a mental note to take it easy next time, maybe pace yourself. It was hard to know your limits when it came to substances, and Matty was the same way. Adam was the ever responsible one, never too drunk or high, always the parent. You were grateful for him, knowing what situations you'd be stuck in if Adam had not been there to smooth things over. 

The tiredness hits you in waves. Glancing at the clock left of your desk, it read 3:26 am. Fuck. You try to ignore the fact that you had to be up in about 4 hours. You close your eyes, welcoming the rest. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A harsh knocking sounded from the direction of your window, scaring the shit out of you. You bolt up, pissed at the disturbance. Turning to face the window, and are met with a familiar grin. Matty. 

It takes all of 5 seconds of him being in your room before you start cursing at him for waking you up like that. He simply shrugs his shoulders and sits in his designated chair. A maroon sofa chair in the corner in front of your bed. It even has M.H carved into the wood, because Matty had some sort of fetish for carving his initials into things. A sign of ownership? It made you wonder. 

Shuffling around the room, you kick your still wet jeans off into the corner, instead picking up a denim skirt. You’d wanted to wear that same red top to school, but seeing as you had fallen asleep wearing it, you chucked it into the same corner as the pants. 

A pink baby tee caught your eye from the chair Matty was sitting in. You silently point at it and he passes it to you. This isn't the first time you've changed in front of him. It didn't happen often, but what was the point of kicking him out? It's not like he was actively staring anyway.

After quickly changing, you go to put on some makeup. Makeup made you feel pretty, pretty enough to go outside. The only person who sees your bare face regularly is Matty. Maybe George. You didn't go anywhere without it.

You can feel Matty looking at you from the corner of your eye. Raising your eyebrows at him, you ask him what he's staring at. 

“D’you reckon i can try some of that?” he gestures vaguely at the eyeshadow brush in your hand “I think i’d look class with my new highlights.” he twirls his hair around his finger, giving you a look.

You look at him skeptically, before breaking out into a smile. Matty smiles back. It's not long before he’s sat in front of you, wincing whenever the brush makes contact with his eyelid. You tell him hes just not used to it, and to just stay still, for fucks sake. 

Once you're done, you take a step back to admire your work. You have to admit, he looks good. Really good. His eyes were lined with a dark purple shadow, making them appear slightly bigger. He takes his fingers, slightly smudging the out corners, giving him a catty look. 

“I think you might even look even better than me,” you say, looking him up and down. This is one of those rare moments where you can't read Mattys' expression at all. Finally, he opens his mouth

“No one could look better than you, trust me,”  

A beat of silence before he speaks again

“I do look ravishing though, d’you reckon Adam'll like this more than the highlights?” He always manages to make himself laugh. Then in typical Matty fashion, he pulls out a beat up looking joint from the pocket of his too tight jeans. 

“Fancy a spliff?” 

“Matty, for christ's sake, we have school in about an hour, and you want to smoke now?” 

“It's the only true way to get through Mr. Henderson's maths class, you know it'll be unbearable if we don't.” translation: please smoke with me. He gives you a look, because you know he's right. 

It was too late to protest. He’d already made his way to open your window, knowing how much you hate stinking up your room.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, and you find your place next to him. 

The wind and rain had calmed down, so Matty had no difficulty lighting it. The smell filled your senses, almost overwhelming you. You were thankful for the fresh air.

He placed the spliff between your lips, watching you intently as you inhaled. Your orange lip gloss had rubbed off the filter, and transferred onto his lips. The weed wasnt as strong as last nights, but still, the sight of Mattys glossed lips made you break out into a fit of giggles. Time seemed irrelevant up until the point you had to run to catch your bus. Sweaty and out of breath, you sat down in your usual spot. 

You can hear comments and insults being thrown at Matty from the back of the bus, but neither of you paid much mind. Matty was high as a kite, and too loopy (hungover) from the previous night to offer up one of his witty retorts. Instead, both of you gave them the bird from over the seat.

Matty was leaning against you, his arms hooked into yours. Neither of you spoke, listening to the soft rumbling of the bus. You stank of weed, anyone could smell it on you. Remembering a perfume bottle in your handbag, you take it out and douse yourself, as well as Matty in it. 

“Oh for fucks sake, now everything smells like Jimmy Choo Illicit!” Matty whined, burying his head in his hands. “Couldn't you have picked a manlier perfume? I'm already walking a very thin line with all of this” He vaguely gestures to himself. 

“Would you rather get kicked out after coming to school smelling like a fucking dispensary? Think ahead, Matthew!” He cringes visibly

“No need to get out the full government name, jesus” he shuffles up against you, and you can see his eyes are a light shade of red. There's no way the two of you would get through first lesson unnoticed. 

George was already waiting for you guys at your stop. Greeting him with a hug, you try to avoid eye contact, yet somehow, he knows. 

“Hey, you alright-?” He cranes his neck to get a better look at your face 

“Are you–? Are you high??” He laughs out loud, smacking your arm to stabilize himself. You shoot him a death stare, but you can feel a laugh coming too. Matty let out a sarcastic haha before kicking George as a way to say get on with it, we have class.

The walk to the room through the sea of people in the halls feels like a claustrophobic hell. B.O ridden teenagers rub up against the three of you, some even (quite violently) shoving past. 

It's a miracle you make it without Matty losing his mind at one of the hecklers. School was actual hell for Matty, and by proxy, you. Insults were thrown at him without a second thought, and the makeup he’d adorned today surely didn't help the comments.

He never let it truly get to him. He didn't care, and that's what you loved so much about him. This part of the city was set back about fifteen years in terms of acceptance and progressivity, so his flowery backpack and femininity wasn't exactly welcomed.

Adam had always taken the piss out of him for his outfits since they were boys, but he never, ever meant it seriously. They were like brothers, those two, and no amount of shit from other people (irrelevants, as Matty would put it) would be able to break them apart. 

The way the room was set up, there were six tables of four, with two people always facing another two. You had sat in the seat next to George, with Matty sitting (well, more like laying) across the other two chairs opposite you. Mr. Henderson had given up on trying to get Matty to sit right a long time ago, instead just flat out ignoring him. It was always easier to fail than to teach. 

“Fucking poofter, that one,” you can hear someone saying from behind you. You know they mean Matty. 

Matty blows them both a kiss before getting flipped off by the shorter one. He loved taking the piss out of the people who insulted him, throwing them off. 

George questions mattys makeup, and you tell him it was his idea. George had always supported Matty, using his insanely tall stature to fend off anyone giving him a hard time. 

The lesson was going by at a snail's pace, with Matty being his usual self, interrupting at every possible moment. It was so obvious he was off his tits, and Mr. Henderson looked suspicious. A particularly loud laugh from George had prompted him to throw you all out. You couldn't care less, getting up immediately.

Matty picked up his things from the floor, making a show out of bending over in front of the two boys that had insulted him earlier. They both scrunch their faces in disgust, muttering under their breaths. A giggle escapes you as they stare daggers.

“Fucking cunt,” one of them says, and now it’s your turn to blow them a kiss. 

The three of you trudge down the halls, slowly but surely coming down from your highs. George suggests going to Ross and Adams flat, seeing as it's just a few bus stops away from the school. They share a flat above a Sainsburys, which is optimal for late night munchies. Adam even works there, so there's always opportunities to sneak a packet of crisps or a can of cola. 

The bus stinks of sweat and mildew, as did all buses in britain. You get used to the stench after a while, your legs propped up onto George and Mattys laps. The back seat was always your favorite, giving you ample space to stretch a bit. You and George share headphones while Matty takes a quick power nap. He always lets you pick the music, and today it was Radioheads ‘No Surprises’. The music plays softly as buildings and trees pass by the window. The day was quite sunny, the light reflecting off of the windows of houses and offices. You'd sobered up enough to be able to think clearly by now. 

These days were the best. They felt calm, like you could forget every other fucked up thing in your life. Your mother, your coursework. Nothing else existed in your little bubble except the people you were with. It felt peaceful, like a breath of fresh air. 

Matty stirred awake as the bus halted to a stop, yawning for dramatic effect. He loved to exaggerate, ever the performer. George was the quiet, brooding type, trying desperately to go unnoticed, which proved rather difficult. Although he was barely coming up on his 18th birthday, he had grown to a staggering 6 '4, with a voice at least 3 or so octaves deeper than Mattys. 

It had proven useful, you aways had someone to send into the smoke shop to buy fags or liquor, even if it always took a pep talk to even get him through the front door. George was convinced he didn't look older, even though he had never been carded. Ever. 

Usually it was Adam who bought it for you, even though both Matty and Ross were also already 18. Matty had already been banned from most liquor stores in the area, so he proved rather useless in situations needing a bit of booze. 

Mattys violent knocks against the flat door brought you back to reality

“C’MON OPEN UP ITS US,” his voice booms through the hallway. You can hear banging and shuffling coming from the other side of the door. It's so obviously Ross bumping into every available surface because he hadn't turned on the light yet. He was an avid day sleeper, mostly working night shifts. A particularly loud crash is followed by glass breaking. 

Matty taps his foot impatiently, waiting for the door to finally open. Ross emerges, looking disgruntled and tired of Mattys shit. 

“Mate, tell me, what possessed you to come knocking about at this hour, don't you have school-? I swear you're going to be the end of me one day” he rubs his eyes, getting the sleep out of them before moving out of the way to let the three of you in. 

“First of all, it's like 11am, so not exactly the ungodly hour you were describing,” Matty starts “Second of all, we’ve been kicked out of class, so where better to come than here?” 

The inside of the flat reeks of cigarettes and laundry detergent. Ross refuses to smoke on the terrace, deeming it too cold even in the middle of summer. Adam always smokes on the terrace, scared of staining the walls like in those addiction documentaries. A futile attempt, but at least he tries. Matty immediately lights a fag, sighing happily when the nicotine hit his system. School had always been an endurance test for him. Getting him to sit still for 2 hours without going for a cigarette proved nearly impossible. He was already itching by the 45 minute mark.

“What did you even do to get kicked out before 12?” He looks at George, who tells him exactly what happened with tears of laughter in his eyes. Matty rolls his before sitting down on the comforter located to the left of the TV, ashing into one of the various ashtrays situated around the house. George sits on the sofa next to Ross, and you make your way to your favorite spot, the table. Sitting cross legged on the table made you all face each other, which you quite liked. 

“Brew?” George asks, looking up from his Ipod. Everyone nods, and he gets up to put on the kettle. Idle conversation fills the air, and Matty starts chatting about the new “groundbreaking” Metallica album. Matty was, if anything, a music snob. No one could stop him raving on about albums or artists, whether he was praising or criticizing them. Once he started, you couldn't stop him to save your life.

Minutes tick past when George brings back mugs of tea. Mattys mug has got the words “I ❤️ cum” on it. Ross has his usual Macclesfield Town mug, and you and George have the plain green ones Adam bought in an attempt to make the flat seem somewhat civilized. 

Hours pass and Matty finally shuts up. You end up on top of him, sitting on the arms of the comforter. You're all watching Skins on the telly, and Mattys hand makes its way to your back, keeping you steady. He’d always been touchy like that, so it didn't bother you. You look at the sofa and see Ross passed out, drooling onto George's jumper. George, polite as ever, lets him sleep. It was a miracle Ross hadn't started snoring already. 

You suggest to Matty that maybe it was time to get going, seeing as you lived on the other side of the city. George's place was right around the corner, so he decided to stay and look after Ross a bit before Adam got home from his shift. Britain's sweetheart. 

Getting up as quietly as possible, making your way towards the door. Ross stirs as Matty almost knocks over his mug. The two of you make eye contact, silently laughing at Ross’ position, basically on top of George. He flipped you off, rolling his eyes and reaching for the remote, turning down the telly.

It was still fairly dark inside, so gathering everything proved a bit of a challenge. The curtains were drawn shut, the yellow material of them painting the house in a warm yellow hue. 

You had spotted Mattys flowery bag in the corner next to the stove, and grabbed it along with a bottle of cola that was set on top of the kitchen counter. Hydration was important, after all, even if you knew Adam would be livid that you were stealing his shit again. What are mates for?    

Matty grabbed both of your coats, mouthing “lets go,” before making his way towards the front door. 

The bright light of the hallway burns your eyes. How do they survive coming out here when that fucking flat is always so dark? You think to yourself. You wonder if Ross has a vitamin D deficiency from the inherent lack of sunshine in his life, yourself excluded. 

The bus ride home is rowdier, filled with kids from surrounding schools. The both of you hid in a corner towards the front, away from the dickheads that usually sat in the back row. You were both too tired to deal with anyone but each other. 

He was right, everything did smell like jimmy choo now, and maybe you shouldn't have sprayed so much. 

His hand wanders to his eyes, rubbing a bit of the eyeshadow off.

“Does it still look alright?” he asks, looking up from your lap. It had smudged a bit, melted off after a full day of wear. It's not like you used your expensive waterproof stuff, after all.

“You look fine, pretty actually,” You give him a tired smile, stroking his hair absentmindedly 

“Can you even call a guy pretty? Isn't that, like, inherently degrading?” Matty mutters, a grin spreading onto his face. 

“It's only degrading if you let it be. You Matthew Healy, are pretty. Pretty like a girl” 

A laugh escapes you, imagining Matty as a woman. Knowing him, he’d be into it. 

“Does it bother you? Y’know, me being feminine and wearing makeup.” The question surprises you. It's a rare thing seeing Matty this vulnerable. He doesn't care what other people think, but he does care what you think. 

“You know I don't care, I actually prefer you this way.” you assure him.

“Though it's still my mission to convince you that the backpack is not the move you think it is.” 

That earns you a frown from Matty. “It is! I'll let you know the lady at the store told be it very in this time of year” its always funny watching him get defensive over his fashion choices, even if he knows he’s fucked up and its hideous. 

“Yeah maybe it's trendy... for 8 year old girls! But you do you mate, don't let me judge you,” that gets you an elbow to the gut. 

The walk home is one you always take together. Arms hooked into each other, walking, sharing headphones. It's your turn on the music, putting on ‘This Charming Man’ by the smiths. 

“You know, Morrissey sort of reminds me of you. You're really similar in your campness”  Matty choked on air, shooting you a faux offended look. 

“Did you seriously call Morrissey camp? He'd have your head for that.” 

“You're both attention slags, so there's at least one similarity.” Matty doesn't say anything, knowing your words do, in fact, ring true. Matty loves attention, and man, is good at getting it. 

He draws people to him like moths to a flame. Always the loudest, always the most interesting. 

That one saying; “You can't be the prettiest girl at the party, but you always be the drunkest” is a personification of Matty. He tips back wine glass after wine glass, not caring about the stains on his shirt or the red ring around his lips. He then makes it a poor Hanns job to make sure he doesnt get into a scrap with three much bigger guys (which actually did happen last summer outside of a pub in london. Matty got out scot free, while Adam nearly suffered a heart attack). 

You hug Matty goodbye, giving him a peck on the cheek. 

You always dreaded coming home. 

They say your biggest critic is your mind, but yours was your mother. You knew she had already gotten a call from the school saying you cut class. The moment you stepped into the living room, the yelling started. “How can you do this” and “What are you even doing with your life” turned into “Look at yourself, you look like a whore and you're going to school like that?” or “Were you out with that little gay boyfriend of yours again?”

You try to tune it out, not letting it get to you. She's been like that for as long as you can remember, never letting up for even just a second. You weren't the best kid, but she sure isn't helping you “get on the right track” as she liked to say.

Tears well up in your eyes when you finally shut your bedroom door. Your first instinct is to call Matty. He picks up after two rings, immediately hearing the quiver in your voice. 

He tells you he’ll be there as soon as he can. 

Minutes pass by slowly until you hear a familiar, although uncharacteristically soft, knock at your window. Matty.

Your puffy eyes meet his and he can tell you’d been crying. No words were exchanged as he took you into your arms, his hands soothingly stroking your hair as you let out muffled sobs into his chest. It broke his fucking heart to see you like this. You were extensions of each other, the others' pain was always your own.    

“It's all so shit. Why cant she just be normal one fucking time.” your voice audibly shakes, partially out of anger and partially out of exasperation. 

“I know i suck, I know I'm a bad daughter but-,” Matty cuts you off. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” His words only make you cry harder. 

He holds you close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, the sound of his voice similar to the way he spoke to you that night. His hands feel cold against your skin, and you know he’d rushed to your house without grabbing his coat. You look up at him, seeing his hair was unruly, curls falling into his face. The blonde highlights littered his dark hair and he ran his hand through them, brushing them to the side to get a better look at you. 

“D’you want to sit down? We can listen to music. Whatever you want, and won't even comment on how shit it is, promise,” He knew you didn't want to talk about it then, you never did.  

You sit in silence, your face still in his chest, staining the light blue material of his shirt. You quietly apologize, knowing how much he loves that shirt. He tells you to shut up, and that it didn't matter. 

He had gotten it in Barcelona at some tourist shop for 50 quid. Insane price for a tshirt that just said “Barcelona” on it, but he held it dear to his heart. It reminded him of his childhood summers. 

“There's a bottle of um…,” you trail off, gesturing to the second drawer of your nightstand. Matty understands, and reaches over you to open it. The drawer is filled with half eaten granola bars, bracelets, jewelry, the odd vape for when it was too cold to go outside. Matty always took the piss out of you for having them, saying they were ‘so fucking girly it hurt’. After a second of rummaging, he took out a half drunk bottle of Bacardi. It always sat in your nightstand for when you needed it, and you definitely needed it now. 

“Only you'd have a giant bottle of rum in your nightstand,” Matty says softly, searching your expression. The corners of your mouth tug upwards at his words, and you crack a smile.   

He opens it for you, and grabs an abandoned cup from your desk. The cup he had gifted you on your 17th birthday. It was covered in flowers and stars, very Matty. Very you. Pouring a healthy amount into the glass, he hands it to you.  

“To shitty situations” He raises it, clinking it against your cup. He takes a swig straight from the bottle. You down the whole thing in one go, wincing as the alcohol burns down your throat. 

“You feel better?” he asks, pouring more into your cup. You nod, before taking another drink. “I just need to get drunk and forget,” you sigh. Matty starts to speak again.

“That's an unhealthy way to go about it. Soon enough I'll be picking you up from corners because you can't handle your liquor. It's a recipe for alcoholism, innit?” you cackle at his words prompting Matty to raise his eyebrows at you.  

“Oh come off it!,” How many times have you been so drunk you couldn't find your own dick if you tried. Sort yourself out before criticizing my drinking habits.” you scoff  

You decide ‘Wonderwall’ by Oasis is the right soundtrack for the night. You lay down next to Matty, your shoulders and thighs touching each other. You look up fondly at the dozens of yellow stars littering your ceiling. Reminiscent of your early childhood, you couldn't bear to take them down. You still felt like a child, your heart yearning for the same innocence you no longer possessed. A distinct naïveté you missed dearly. After your breakup with Phillip you'd realized that the world wasn't all it was cut out to be. People wanted, and they took. It didn't matter to them if they hurt others, because as long as they were satiated, nothing else mattered. 

You turn to your left, draping your arm over Mattys stomach. He let out a deep breath, raising his right arm to draw light circles onto your back. His nails had grown out longer than usual, but the sharpness of them was comforting through the thin material of your tank top. The edge of your small twin bed dug into your back. 

The two of you laid like that for hours before sleep took over your body. The stars on the ceiling blurred as your eyes started to shut. You let out a soft hum, settling into Matty even more, holding him close.

You don't know how long he stayed, but he was gone when you woke up. You feel a sticky note attached to your forehead, the glue rubbing off on your skin. You could barely read Mattys erratic handwriting. The note read: you fell asleep, hope your hangover isn't as bad as mine. left you some Advil on your dresser xx. 

Your hand reached next to you, feeling two tablets. You wash them down with water from the sink. Your cell phone lights up with a text from George 

“We’re meeting at Hanns flat, be there in 30,”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The windows were rolled up, trapping the smoke inside. Your eyes were glazed over, barely able to make out Ross’ face in front of you. Watching as Matty took another hit, you made a ‘give it here’ motion at the zoot, prompting him to hand it to you. Rhianna blared through the radio, a far cry from Adams usual taste in music, but no one seemed to care. Even Matty had managed to keep his mouth shut, instead moving his head in time with the music. 

Adam was sitting in the driver's seat, as always. He’d never let anyone else drive his girl, not even Ross. He was insanely protective over his car, even if it was an old piece of junk. 

George was in the passenger seat, holding a pink, polka dotted ashtray in his hand. The colorful ceramic proved quite the contrast against his dark clothes and messy blonde hair. It was a gift from his older sister, and the only ashtray he ever used. 

You were perched in the middle seat, your elbows on the console between Adam and George. Matty sat on your right, and Ross on your left.  

“No joke, I once had a bird offer to give me a footjob. Can you imagine that?” Adam spoke loudly, almost too loud. Ross let out a disgusting snort, the mental image of Adam getting a footjob making him properly lose it. You make a face. 

“That can't feel good at all, innit? Aren't the soles of feet rough?” you ponder. “Only if you have George's hobbit feet, that is,” Matty said, ducking to avoid yet another lighter being chucked at him. You were going to run out of lighters at this rate. 

“I'll show you hobbit feet you fucking cunt,” George retorted, sticking out his tongue like a child.

“I had a girl once who wanted me to properly bite down on her nipples, like hard. Can't imagine how much that would've hurt.” you share. She’d been quite the odd one up until she was in your bed, so you were already expecting some sort of weird kink. Nipple biting was definitely not on that list. Not that you were kink shaming.  

George spoke first: “What d’you mean girl? You're telling me you've been with girls?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Erm, yeah? Didn't I tell you-?” Everyone shook their heads except Matty. You had already told him this story months before, the both of you laughing at your misfortune. Smiling at the fond memory, you meet Ross’ eye. 

“We didn't know you were like, proper gay,” he says quietly, not wanting to sound abrasive. You suck in a deep breath before answering. “I'm not proper anything, and besides,” you point at Matty sitting next to you, “This one’s snogged loads of blokes.”  A collective “What???” fills the car, with everyone's eyes now on Matty. 

“What if I have? It's not my job to notify you of all my sexual endeavors, innit?” Matty looks slightly uncomfortable, giving you a look. You frown at him, and he shakes his head. Slight signs of a smile linger on his face. It's fine he mouths at you, resting his arm on your shoulder. 

The three of them talk loudly over each other, with Ross asking some very explicit questions on the mechanics of gay sex. 

“How do you even, like, properly shag? It's not like you have anything you can shove into the other girl,” Jesus christ. 

Matty taps Ross’ shoulder, bringing the attention to his hands. He brings them up to his mouth, sticking his tongue out between the V-shape his fingers had made. Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, the whole demonstration makes Ross visibly cringe. 

The car suddenly starts. Adam makes the short drive to Carolines, stating that the hotbox was getting to be too much for him. George has a go at his age, calling him an old man. Hann was in fact, about 2 and a half years older than George, and a solid year older than the rest of you. Old man was right. 

You had rolled down the window on Mattys side, hoping some fresh air would help Adams driving skills. The erratic swerving had begun to make you sick. 

Finally trugding up the stairs to the terrace, Matty says something about it being too fucking cold. Ross says “That's the price of being built like a male Kate Moss,” and Matty nearly shoves him down the stairs. 

It is colder than usual, and you had opted for a dark gray zip up, the material hugging you tightly. You were pretty sure it was Mattys. A pair of green wash jeans hung low, revealing the lightning bolt tattoo on your right hip bone. It was a copy of Bowie's on the cover of ‘Aladdin Sane’. You had gotten it done by another one of your mates, Rome, who was an aspiring tattoo artist. It looked a bit shit, the lines slightly crooked, but it was yours. 

You had convinced George and Ross to carry the sofa from the office onto the terrace. They were the tallest and strongest, and Mattys arms would have snapped like twigs if he tried to carry anything, you said to them. George laughed his octave defying laugh, while Ross let out an annoyed grunt, shoving past you. 

Adam was right behind them, carrying a small wooden coffee table. “For you- I know how much you hate sofas,” he says quietly. You called him a softy, but inevitably thanked him for bringing it out. He had his rare sweet moments, and you appreciate them 

Once you had all settled, you took out your tobacco and papes, starting to roll your first cigarette of the night. You honestly needed a break from all the weed, because jesus. 

Matty let out a groan, taking the piss out of you for bringing all that instead of just buying industrials. 

“I know you think you're better than us for rolling, it's quite pretentious.” he sucks in a breath before talking, moving his hands erratically “Don't tell me it ‘tastes better’ because that's simply bollocks, it all tastes the same!” 

“Pretentious? Her? That's rich coming from someone who raves on about William Burroughs like anyone knows who is!” Matty looks hurt, and you give Ross a look that says you really don't know who William Burroughs is?

The conversation continued without you, too preoccupied with rolling to add anything. All was well until George decided to open his giant mouth again. 

“If you're not fully gay,” he started, “how do we know you're not secretly crushing on any of us?” he raised his eyebrows, looking at you expectantly.

You let out a snort, it slowly morphing into laughter until you look at him, his expression deadly serious. 

“You can’t actually mean that?” your voice is slightly hoarse. “For all we know, you could be harboring secret affection for Matty with the amount of times you’ve slept in the same bed.” 

Mattys perks up at this, shooting George a glare that could kill a man. He told him??? 

You don't know what came over you. Maybe it was the weed, maybe you were just groggy from the lingering hangover. You lick the cig closed, setting down next to the others. Uncrossing your legs, you get up and walk towards Matty. You can see the grin plastered onto his face, and he is definitely not sober.

You stumbled over Adam's foot, kicking it out of the way. Ross moved away from Matty, giving you some space. 

The terrace was dark, but the moonlight illuminated some of Mattys features. Specifically, his eyes. They seemed to glow, following your every step toward him. I'll show you secret affection you thought to yourself when your hand made contact with Mattys face. The stubble on his chin scratched your fingers. He never could grow a beard, and the faint shadow was as long as it would get. 

He sat with his legs spread, skin peaking out through the single rip in his jeans. His arms rested on the sofas back, splaying out to the side. He wore a black v-line jumper, the knit of it almost see-through.  

The makeup from the previous day was still smudged on his face, giving him a rockstar-esque look. The eyeshadow framed his eyes, glittering in the faint light. Your hands cupped his face, lightly stroking his jaw. The grin had been wiped off his face the moment you had settled between his legs, kneeling on the edge of the sofa. 

You didn't think, just moved, your lips smashing against each other. It seemed to take Matty by surprise, and it even took him a second before he kissed you back. One thing nagged at you. Why did you like it?

There was no time to think when you heard George wolf whistle at the both of you. 

You want a show, I'll give you a show you thought, slipping in your tongue and taking over the kiss. He seemed into it, but then again, Matty would fuck anything with a pulse. You smile against his mouth at the thought. It suddenly felt hot, even though you were outside. His hand snaked its way into your hair, tugging slightly. This didn't feel platonic. Was it?

“Alright, alright, we didn't sign up for a porno,” Ross says, his hand covering his mouth. You were the one who broke the kiss. Matty let out a soft groan when you parted, loud enough for only you to hear. His eyes pierced yours, and you moved to get off of him. 

Your heart thrummed against your ribcage, and you felt dizzy. What the fuck?

You wiped your mouth, your lipgloss having smeared all over your face. Wiping the back of your sticky hand against the sofa, you turned and walked back to your spot on the table. 

“See! Absolutely no ‘secret affection’ as George so kindly put it.” you say to the group, going back to your pile of fags, taking one and lighting it. If you had looked at Matty instead of being preoccupied with Hanns bickering about the prissy new manager, you would have noticed a faint shade of red caressing his cheeks. He felt around for his own cigarettes, and took out a pack of parliaments. Spotting the lighter next to you, he reached for it, lighting the cig as he inhaled the smoke eagerly.

It was already half two when the five of you finally piled back into Hanns car. The prominent stench of weed made you scrunch up your nose. You decide to light a cigarette in the car despite various protests and threats to your life if you even dared to ash onto the leather seats. Switching seats with Matty, you ash out the window instead, resting your head against the rim of the car. 

Ross and George were having yet another meaningless debate on whether mixing ketchup and mayo was a cardinal sin or totally acceptable. Every other word was an insult, and you knew they would never come to an agreement, ever.

You had already established that you’d be sleeping over at Mattys, saving Adam time and petrol not having to drive both of you home separately. Denise and Tim were out on a press tour, so he had the house to himself. 

His room was dark, the curtains drawn shut. If you knew Matty, you knew he hated the big light with a burning passion. Instead, a small lamp was turned on in the corner, illuminating the various posters that littered his wall. Band posters, prints, tapestries, the occasional quote. Everything screamed Matty

His room was filled with so much music. CD’s, vinyls, even the odd cassette tape. His purple record player sat on top of a dresser next to his desk, surrounded by various small trinkets of his. It was his prized possession, a gift from his mother for his 14th birthday.  

You had already helped yourself to a cola from his fridge downstair. His house was huge, way bigger than your own. Your parents weren't actors, after all. The walls of his room were stained towards the corners, just another side effect of Mattys near constant chain smoking. His bed was big, and you both fit comfortably on it. The wardrobe next to it had a pile of your own clothes in it, but none to sleep in. Your eyes dart around the room looking for one of his to wear, landing on his bright pink durex t-shirt. He had worn it once to school, promptly getting kicked out of literature class by a very conservative Mrs. Sexton.

Soft music was playing in the background as you unloaded your bag onto Matty’s insanely cluttered desk. Out came multiple pens, makeup, not one, not two, but three lighters, and finally, makeup wipes.    

You sat on the ground in front of his full length mirror, wiping at your eyes and face. Matty was making the bed, giving the both of you each your own duvet, a must after too many fights over the blanket. You weren't a peaceful sleeper, constantly tossing and turning, occasionally even kicking Matty in the back. 

Washing your face, you hear the bathroom door click open. Matty went and sat on the closed toilet lid next to you.

“Hand me my toothbrush, will you? And some toothpaste.” he asked, stretching his hand out. You do, even wetting the toothbrush for him. 

He sat there, brushing his teeth and flipping through a recent issue of playboy while you put moisturizer on, and then a serum. 

“I dont get how you can be arsed to put all that shit on your face, it takes way too long,” his comment makes you roll your eyes at him in the reflection. 

“Not everyone is naturally blessed with clear skin like you, people like me have to put effort into their appearance, knobhead.” A wave of insecurity hits you as you inspect the acne on your face. 

You had been a chronic face picker in your early teenage years, and the consequences of that were gnarly acne scars covering most of your face. They were not prominent, but they were there. 

Matty was fortunate enough to have had maybe three zits ever, his clear skin the stuff of dreams. 

Matty watches you pick yourself apart in the mirror. He hated when you did that. It made his heart ache in his chest. He wished you could see what he saw. What did he see?

“You’re quite beautiful, really,” he says, making eye contact with you through the mirror. You’re taken aback, not quite sure how to respond. You open your mouth to speak. 

“Oh bugger off,” you say, your voice breathy and annoyed. You didn't want to sound annoyed, it just came out that way. 

Matty raises both his hands in defeat, and spits the toothpaste into the toilet bowl, flushing. The hairbands sitting on the bathroom counter eventually end up in your hair, holding together two braids on either side of your face. You stare at the mirror one more time, examining yourself. The pink fabric of your (well, Mattys) shirt clung to you like it did Matty. Taking off your bra, you go back into his room. He had changed into a loose Kiss t-shirt and black boxers. The light of the corner lamp helped you find your phone, sitting on the nightstand next to you. 

The atmosphere was calm, calm enough that you’d almost forgotten about the kiss. Almost. 

Matty reached over to turn the lamp off, lighting a candle for light. Cinnamon. 

“You know it's dangerous to sleep with candles lit? We could catch on fire and die,” Matty had rolled over on his side, now facing you. A grin spread onto his face. 

“If it kept me from ever seeing Hanns ugly mug ever again, i’d gladly let cinnamon spice scented flames burn me to death,” 

You giggle at his words. Poor Adam, always taking the worst of Mattys jokes, if you could even call them that. Accepting his decision to keep the candle lit, you pull the blanket over your shoulders. Your eyes shut and you can feel butterflies in your stomach. Butterflies, really? Jesus fucking christ. 

You're scared to open your eyes, scared to even look at Matty. Maybe it was a mistake. He's your best mate. That kiss didn't mean anything, especially not to him.

A million thoughts race through your head, and you shove them into a small corner of your mind. Ignore ignore ignore, it didn't mean anything. He's just some wanker who picked you up at a bus stop three years ago and somehow became your best mate. He's just some guy you share a bed with sometimes. He's just some guy who lights your spliffs for you. He's just some guy who you kissed on a terrace overlooking the city. 

Fuck. 

[jo-speaks]

arcade

in which…

Quinn takes fem! reader on a date to the arcade!

note: first imagine in the ‘alphabet date’ series! hope you enjoy <3

“All I’m saying is I plan on beating you at everything tonight.” Quinn said, his hand resting on your inner thigh. 

You and Quinn hadn’t gone out in a while due to the playoffs, so you decided to go out to the arcade downtown. You figured it would be a good way to enjoy each other’s company, while also letting him blow off some steam with some friendly competition.

“Whatever you say.”

Soon enough, you had arrived at the arcade. Since it was pretty late in the day, the place was decently crowded. Not that either of you cared, but Quinn wasn’t really in the mood to socialize with anyone he didn’t have to. 

You gave his hand a tight squeeze as you entered the building. Right away, your eyes were met with bright, colourful lights. You turned your head to look at Quinn and he was already looking at you.

“Ready to get your ass beat?”

“I should be asking you that.” You smiled. 

~✩~

After three rounds of bowling, two rounds of laser tag, and a bunch of other random games, you ended up with a smile on your face, and Quinn ended up with a pout.

“What is that? My tenth win of the night?” You asked, waving a hand full of tickets in front of Quinn’s face. 

He rolled his eyes playfully, “Whatever. Your refusal to play the basketball game with me says a lot.” You furrowed your eyebrows, “Let’s go, Hughes.”

His face contorted into a grin, grabbing your wrist gently as he tugged you towards the hoops. 

Before you two could scan your arcade card, Quinn felt a tap on his shoulder. You both turned around to be met with a group of four girls, who couldn’t have been any older than sixteen. 

“Excuse me, could we get a picture with the two of you? We’re big fans.” One of them asked. 

Quinn smiled, “Yeah, sure.” 

They smiled and giggled, handing their phone to a stranger who had kindly offered to take the photo. Quinn wrapped his arm around your waist and smiled, as you did the same. “Thank you so much. And Y/N, we love your outfit.”

“Thank you!” You replied, their compliment making you smile like a kid in a candy store. They walked away smiling, huddling around the phone to analyze the picture.

Quinn placed a quick kiss to your cheek as he kept his arm around you, “They were nice.”

You smiled and leaned into his hold, “Yeah.

Suddenly, he stepped away from you. He quickly scanned the game card on each machine and pushed a button that released all the basketballs in front of you both. He started shooting the balls towards the hoops before you could even process what was happening, still stunned from how fast he managed to switch up. 

“You cheater!” You laughed, grabbing a basketball and shooting it towards the hoop in hopes of catching up. 

Quinn chuckled, “I had to win somehow!”

His cheating managed to work, his final score being 25 and yours was 13. As he proudly got his tickets, you pulled out your phone to take a picture. 

Quinn stood up holding his first batch of tickets from the night. He pulled you in close and pressed a sudden kiss to your lips. He was never big on PDA, so you pulled away in curiosity. 

“What was that for?” You asked sweetly. 

“I’m just really happy with you. Thanks for coming out with me tonight.” He smiled as he looked down at you.

You smiled at his words and tugged on his hoodie collar to bring him closer to you. You pressed another soft kiss to his lips, letting this one linger the slightest bit longer. 

“I love you, Quinn Hughes.”

His cheeks became a light red, “I love you too. More than you can imagine, Y/N L/N.”

[canirove]

Mason Mount Imagine | seven

Author's note: I hadn't written an imagine in ages, but yesterday after seeing these gifs of Mason at that charity event the other day I got inspired, and here we are 😁 Hopefully this will give me the last push I need to finish my next story, who also happens to be about Mason 👀 As always, I hope you like it, and thank you for reading! 💜 Little summary: Your dad works at a chairty auction and has asked you to be his plus one. You expect to bore yourself to death, but a cute guy with a dimple has other plans 👀 (Female reader/pov)

Masterlist

“Dad, do I really have to go?”

“Yes, honey. You must.”

“But it is going to be so boring…” I complain. “What am I going to do at an auction full of old people?”

“Thank you for the compliment” he chuckles. “But you will be supporting your father after months of hard work. And there will be young people too.”

“Sure” I snort.

“There will be. Now c'mon, I can't be late.”

“But…”

“Chop, chop, honey.”

“Ok, fine” I sigh. “Just promise me you won't call me honey in front of everyone.”

“I won't” he smiles, opening the door of our house. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Thank you, dad. But I feel like I may rip this dress any moment now” I say as I walk past him, crossing all my fingers so it actually doesn't happen, and I end up making a fool of myself in front of all his work colleagues and some of the richest people in the city. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ok, this is your seat, hon… Your seat” my dad smiles after I give him a murderous look. 

“Aren't you sitting down with me?”

“I still have to take care of a bunch of things.”

“Are you leaving me alone? And surrounded by strangers?”

“You'll be fine, honey” he chuckles. “I promise I'll come and have a drink with you. Now try to have some fun.”

“But dad…” I start, not being able to finish my complaint since he is already gone. "Great" I sigh.

“So, do you come here often?” someone says, taking the empty seat next to mine.

“I beg your pardon?” I say, turning around to face the owner of that voice. 

“That was bad, wasn't it?” he laughs.

“Worse” I say, my eyes fixed on him. On the cutest guy I have ever laid eyes on. 

He is wearing a classic black suit with a black tie, nothing too shocking. But paired with the smile on his face and the dimple on his left cheek… wow. Simply wow.

“What are you doing at an event like this, tho?” he asks me. “I wasn't expecting to meet anyone younger than 50” he chuckles, his dimple showing once again. Is it possible to fall in love with something like that? Because I think I just have.

“My dad convinced to come as his plus one and support him tonight.”

“Is he part of the auction?” 

“He is the guy running around like a headless chicken to make sure everything is ok” I laugh, looking at him when he suddenly shows up running up and down the stage.

“Martin?”

“Yep, that's him. Do you know him?”

“I do. He is a really nice guy.”

“I may be a bit biased here… But he is, yes” I smile. “He has put so much work and sleepless nights into today's auction… Like, I don't know how many coffees I made for him while he tried to convince this football player to be part of it.”

“A football player?”

“Yeah, a super famous one, I can't remember his name. He kept telling my dad that he was super busy with other commitments” I snort. “What commitments could have a guy who makes a living from kicking a ball? Spending lots of money in ugly clothes just because they have a certain logo, and buying huge cars?”

“Don't forget about the ugly haircuts and tattoos” he chuckles.

“That too.”

“Aren't you into football, then?”

“Nah, not my thing. What about you?” I ask him, finally daring to look him in the eyes. Which is a big mistake, because even in the kind of dark light of the room, I can see that he has the most beautiful brown eyes ever. Eyes that are currently giving me a mischievous look I can't understand. 

“Not my thing either. Footballers are a bunch of twats” he says, making me laugh. “Anyway... I know we just met, but I'm gonna need your help with something.”

“Mine?”

“Yours” he says with a smile that matches the look on his eyes. “I'm about to be auctioned.”

“You what?”

“It sounds bad if you say it like that, but people are basically going to bid money to have a personal experience with me.”

“That isn't making it sound any better.”

“Oh, you dirty mind” he smirks, making my cheeks start to burn. Thank God he can't notice with the low light. Or can he? “But some people here may be expecting that kind of experience. Earlier I overheard a couple of women talking about me and looking at me in a way that… Well. You can imagine.”

“I don't blame them, tho” I say, speaking before thinking.

“Thank you” he smiles, that dimple I'm definitely in love with showing in all its glory. “So, what I need you to do, is to win my auction.”

“What? With which money?”

“Mine.”

“What?” I say again. “Is that allowed?”

“I don't think so. But since it is for charity, I think your dad can look the other way and allow it. What do you say? Will you win this for me? I promise you you will have the best date ever.”

“A date?” I say, almost choking with my own words.

“Unless you have a partner and I'm making things weird.”

“No, no. There is no one” I quickly say, my cheeks burning once again, and especially when I notice how I've made him smile.

“Great” he says. “It'll be very easy. They will say a number and you…”

“I know how an auction works.”

“Yes, of course. Of course you do” he apologizes. “Will you do it, then? Pretty please?” he pouts, making me focus on his lips. Lips that look so kissable and so…

“Fine, I will” I sigh, giving up and focusing on a different part of his face. But even his hair looks attractive.

“Thank you” he smiles once again, kissing my cheek. “And that's my cue, I have to go. Don't worry about the amount of money, ok? I can pay whatever they offer.”

“Ok” I nod, my brain still thinking about the feeling of his lips on my cheek, on how my skin tingles.

“And you have number 19 on your bidding paddle, that's my lucky one. Everything will work out, you'll see.”

“Yes” I nod again. 

“See you in a bit” he winks before leaving our table and me trying to understand everything I'm feeling and that just happened.

“And now for our next bidding… Mr. Mason Mount, Manchester United player and football star!” a voice announces from the stage.

“What?” I say, snapping out of whatever is going on with me and focusing on the guy walking up the stage. “No way” I gasp.

It's him. The cute boy with the dimple who just convinced me to bid for him and win this auction… It's Mason freaking Mount. The football player my dad spent hours trying to convince to attend tonight. The one I basically called a twat to his face.

“Remember that the winner will get to enjoy a personal experience with Mr. Mount. Not that type of experience...” the auctioneer chuckles as some women start giggling. “Are we ready? We'll begin with £1,000.”

The moment he says that number, a bunch of bidding paddles are raised. 

“Ok, what about £2,000? Does anyone offer £2,000?”

More paddles around me. People definitely are eager to spend some time with him, with Mason. And once again, I don't blame them.

I've spent five minutes with him, and you could say they have been some of the best five minutes of my life. And not because of how handsome and cute he is or because I'm in love with his dimple. There is something about him, about the way he talks, looks and listens to you, that makes you feel… I don't know. Comfortable.

“What about… £5,000!”

Still the same amount of paddles. No one is giving up. And it keeps being like that as the number keeps going up and up until it makes it to…

“£50,000! Does anyone offer £50,000?” 

People start whispering among themselves, trying to decide if they should make an offer or not. And then, a blonde woman raises her bidding paddle. 

“We have an offer! Anyone else?” the auctioneer says.

That woman is going to win, and Mason doesn't seem to be too happy about it. The look he is giving me from the stage is saying it all, and also reminding me that I should be bidding for him too.

“And we have another offer!” the auctioneer says when I raise my paddle, Mason smiling from ear to ear while my dad looks at me as if I've grown another head.

“What the hell?” he mouths.

“Trust me” I say back.

“Ok, what about £51,000? Does anyone offer £51,000? Ladies?”

Once again, I can feel Mason's eyes fixed on me.

“And we have £51,000 from the lady in the back!” the auctioneer announces when I raise my paddle, everyone in the room looking my way. “£51,000 at one… £51,000 at two… £51,000 at three! We have a winner!” he says, hitting his little hammer so loud that I can feel it in my bones, Mason pointing in my direction with a smile that could make anyone's knees feel like jelly. Dear God, what did I just do? 

“Honey, what did you just do? Are you drunk?” my dad says, suddenly showing up next to me.

“I can explain everything, I swear.”

“Miss, could you please join us on stage?” the auctioneer says.

“You better. Now let's go, they are waiting for you.”

“But dad, wait. I can't. I can't go in there.”

“You won the auction, honey. You must go up there” he says, helping me get up.

“Dad, I can't. I…” And then, I hear it. The back of my dress ripping. “Dad!” But he isn't listening, already dragging me to the stage where Mason is waiting.

“Please let's give a round of applause for this young lady!” the auctioneer says.

“Thank you for… Hey, are you ok?” Mason says as he takes my hand and helps me up the stage.

“I'm pretty sure I just ripped the back of my dress” I say while everyone claps.

“Oh, shit” he says, looking at my back. “I'll help you, don't worry.”

“Do you have magical fingers?” I say with a nervous laugh. “Like fingers that can sew” I quickly add after seeing the smirk on his face.

“I do have magical fingers, and among other things, they can do this” Mason says, putting his hand on my back to make sure the dress doesn't open, the feeling making me gasp. 

“Thank you very much for your generosity, Miss” the auctioneer says, unaware of everything that is going on. “We hope you enjoy your time with Mr. Mount.”

“Thank you” I manage to say, my brain only being able to focus on Mason's hand on my back, on one of his fingers touching my skin. I'm pretty sure he can feel it burning.

“Now, onto our next bid!” he announces as we leave the stage, my dad already waiting for us. 

“What have you done, honey? £51,000! We don't have that money!”

“But I do, Martin. I asked her to bid for me” Mason explains. “Here, put this on” he says, taking off his jacket and putting it around my shoulders. “This should help cover the back of your dress.”

“Thank you” I mutter, missing the feeling of his hand and especially that one finger on my back. Though it doesn't last long. He is so close to me while helping me with his jacket, that I can smell his perfume all around me, and it smells so good… 

“What do you mean you asked her to bid for you?” my dad asks, completely ignoring that I may be melting.

“I didn't want one of those women to win. I don't trust them, to be honest” he chuckles. “And this is for charity, isn't it? It should not matter if the money comes from me or them.”

“I guess, yes. But…”

“Martin? We need you” someone says behind my dad.

“Yes, of course” he tells them. “We'll continue this conversation later” he says, looking first at Mason and then at me. 

“That went well” he chuckles as we watch my dad walk away.

“Did it?”

“It did. They now have £51,000 they will definitely put to good use, I am free from that woman, and you just got yourself a personal experience with Mason Mount” he smiles.

“Hasn't all this been an experience already?”  

“It definitely has, yes” he chuckles. “But the one I'm offering you will be more enjoyable. We could go shopping for ugly and very expensive clothes” he says with a teasing smile.

“I could actually do with a new dress seeing that this one… Well. It has seen better days.” 

“You look beautiful, tho.”

“Thank you” I mutter, looking down and starting to play with one of the buttons on his jacket to hide that my face is about to burst into flames. “Sorry about what I said earlier, by the way.”

“About what?”

“About calling you a twat.”

“I called myself a twat, you didn't. And if someone has to apologize, that should be me for not telling you who I really was.”

“I guess...”

“I think this makes it a tie in the apologies department. Don't you agree… honey?”

“I beg your pardon?” I say, finally daring to look him in the face.

“Ok, ok. Forget that I said that” he laughs. “The look you just gave me is scary as hell.”

“You deserve it. That is my dad's nickname, and no one else can use it. Sometimes not even him.” Like tonight, for example.

“I'm sorry. I truly am” Mason says, getting serious. “I just thought it was really cute.”

“When you are a kid, maybe. But I'm not five anymore.”

“I'm sorry” he says again. “I guess I'll have to think of a good nickname for our date. Something that doesn't sound too childish and that…”

“Wait, wait, wait” I interrupt him. “Our date?”

“Or personal experience, call it what you want” he shrugs.

“Are we actually doing it?”

“Of course we are. You paid for it, didn't you?”

“You paid for it” I correct him.

“Small details” he replies. “But you and I are going on a date, and I promise you it is gonna be an experience you won't forget” Mason says, taking my hand on his and kissing it, the way he is looking at me when he does it, plus the smile on his face (dimple included) and the feeling of his lips on my skin, making me feel things I can't explain.

I'm going out on a date with Mason Mount. The Mason Mount. A freaking football star.

And oh... my God.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Authors note: I know some of you may now be like, I need a part 2, I need to know what do they do on that date! 😅 But I've run out of ideas, so if you can think of something they could do or where they could go, let me know and I'll try to write something. Though I can't promise anything.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

seeing a bunch of luke betraying reader what abt reader betraying luke in a way by making him think r is always on his side until the day r thinks he went way too far and messes up his plan (spying, you and percy ganging up on him or whatever fits) bunch of angsty dialogue and maybe luke refuse to fight r and r yelling at him to fight her properly

ℐ 𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ𝒹 𝓂ℯ

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Ouch this one hurt anon

"It's all part of the plan" is what he would tell you. His words tug at your heartstrings. It wasn't right. This wasn't the Luke you knew; it wasn't your Luke.

You missed your Luke. The one you used to know. The one you met when he came into the camp as a young boy, eyes wide with fear. You were the first friend he made there other than Annabeth. You miss the Luke that you used to spar with, the Luke who was your first everything. First love, kiss, and now heartbreak.

Now, he was telling you about his plan for later. He paced around your empty cabin as you sat up, staring at the boy you thought you had known.

"I'm going to recruit him tonight," he said suddenly. You shot up and looked at him with furrowed brows.

"Luke, don't you think it's too soon?" you asked him, nervously picking at your hands. He stopped pacing and looked at you. "If we don't do it soon, his plan will fail."

He's just a boy. You thought. This was going too far. You had tried desperately to change his plans, but he knew what Kronos wanted, and he wanted to please him.

You both stayed silent for a moment, and he saw your reaction to his words, he sighed softly and moved so he crouched in front of you. He softly grabbed your jaw, tracing his thumb over your cheek.

"After this, we can live like how you always wanted to. Like those couples on the shows, you showed me."

You just gazed into his eyes. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, whispering the words "It's all part of the plan."

You had a small smile on your face as Percy and Annabeth walked into camp. You saw Luke in the corner of your eyes, he was looming behind you, a hand on the small of your back.

He looked at you and you knew what he wanted. You followed him into the Hermes cabin. Percy and Annabeth came in as well.

As Luke talked to them, and told Percy to come into the woods, you swallowed the lump in your throat, you didn’t seem as enthusiastic as Luke did.

Annabeth noticed your demeanor, she noticed the way your eyes glanced to the ground, and the way you looked at Percy. She furrowed an eyebrow at it, and once they had finished talking, Luke grabbed at your wrist, but Annabeth spoke before you left.

“Actually, can I talk to you for a minute, y/n? A girl to girl thing.” She said, directing the last sentence to Luke.

“Okay.” You nodded. Luke just nodded, giving you a small smile and a nod towards your cabin.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

You sighed, looking around and at Luke who was walking away. You pulled them both into the corner of the Hermes cabin, they both looked confused at your urgency.

“Luke is working with Kronos. He wants to recruit Percy.” You said, voice a whisper. They both looked at each other than back to you.

“What? What are you talking about-“ Percy started.

“He wants revenge.” Annabeth mumbled, suddenly realizing it. You nodded.

“He wants to bring back the age when Kronos ruled.”

“I thought Kronos was dead.” Percy stated, looking back and forth at you both.

You shook your head.

“That was what pulled Grover in.” Percy realized now. You both looked at him in confusion.

“Luke gave me his shoes, the winged ones.”

“Maia?” You asked him.

He nodded, “and I gave them to Grover. Grover was being pulled into this… pit thing.”

Annabeth looked into the ground as she struggled to process it all. Tears threatened to fall. Her brother, her best friend, wanted to betray the camp.

“Is that why he wants me to meet him in forest..?” Percy said, interrupting the silence.

You nodded again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I knew for a while, but I just wanted my Luke back. He’s not the same person I once knew.”

Tears were falling, your voice was a croak. You sniffled and wiped your tears from your eyes, and you gave Annabeth a tight hug.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered to her. She stood there, rigid in your arms. She wiped a stray tear.

You stood next to Luke, as he talked and walked with Percy. Percy glanced at you every so often, seeing your eyes having a distant look.

"I met your dad."

With this, Luke saw red. You stood behind him as they fought. And when he had Percy pinned to the ground and Luke pointed his sword at the boy, you couldn't bear it anymore.

You used your sword, hitting backbiter out of his hands. He turned to you now, face full of confusion, hurt, and betrayal. You felt your heart sink when he mumbled your name, his voice raspy as if he was about to cry.

Your sword pointed at him now. His hands remained at his sides; he stood frozen in shock, his eyes glossy.

"I thought you loved me."

"I do love you. But Luke, this is wrong." You sobbed out, looking at Percy's terrified face as he stayed on the soil.

"I thought that out of everyone in this camp, you would understand." He mumbled, his voice trembling. He had forgotten about his sword at this point.

"There's a better way to do this, Luke."

"Kronos's way is the only way for us, for me."

"I can't do this, Luke. I can't!"

"if you're not with me, you're my enemy." He stated, his words angered you. How could he just throw away those years of your lives? The years that were your everything?

You stared into his eyes, yelling as you tried to stab him. He dodged it, grabbing your sword. You kicked him onto the ground, he held his arms up in defense as you tried to use your sword against him.

"Fight me, You coward!" you shouted, breathless and sobbing, he had started to cry as well. You dropped your sword, punching him in the chest multiple times, he just took it with no words.

He wouldn't fight you, no matter what. He would never dream of even nicking you. You sobbed on top of him, and your punches eventually stopped as you placed your hands on your chest, and he just stared up at you.

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 16

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

As a thank you for 400 followers here’s a bonus short chapter for tonight! Enjoy :)

Content Warnings - None

The doctors asked you every question imaginable about the treatment you received in the capital; what the medicine tasted like, what it smelled like, how long did it make you sleep for. You did your best to answer their questions but not being a medical professional yourself you honestly didn’t know most of the answers.

“Can we do a brain scan?” Johanna asks. “There has to be something to explain all this!”

“Miss Mason,” the doctor states. “We do not have the technology for that but based on all of our available tests we have performed and the discussion of the treatment I think she’s fine.”

Suddenly there is a knock on your door and Plutarch enters.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but Miss Y/L/N is needed in command,” he states. The doctor allows you to leave, much to Johanna’s protests, and you walk with the older man towards command.

“Don’t stress it’s just wedding planning,” he explains as you walk the long halls of District 13. “The whole district is very excited!”

You are met with the faces of Coin, Effie, Katniss’ prep team, and Katniss herself when you enter command. The prep team seems scared of you but you give them a gentle smile and take a seat next to Katniss. You can’t help but notice the way she subtly shifts away from you.

“Well my dear I am so excited for you,” Effie chimes. You give her a quick thanks and she continues to blabber on about ideas for the wedding. She talks about everything from which flowers to decorate the tables with to how the guests should be seated.

“Oh and I almost forgot!” she chimes. “Katniss has agreed to take you to twelve to pick out a dress for your wedding! She has some of Cinna’s designs there and we could make alterations so they fit!”

“Are you sure?” you ask Katniss, surprised she agreed.

“Of course,” she responds. “We can go this afternoon if you would like.”

You return that evening to your hospital room, having picked out your dress. It’s a sage green gown that flows eloquently from your shoulders like water. It’s simple, which is exactly what you wanted. The prep team brought back some of Peeta’s suits to fit Finnick with as well.

“Hey Y/N/N,” Finnick grins as he enters your room. “What did you get up to today?”

“Not much,” you shrug. “Johanna made the doctors run a bunch of tests on me cause she thinks I’m crazy, then I sat in on a two hour long wedding planning meeting, then Katniss took me to 12 to pick out a dress.”

“Sounds busy,” Finnick sighs, sitting down on your bed next to you.

“Finn?” you ask, catching his attention. “What is it that I’m not remembering? Everyone seems to know but me.”

He turns to you with worry covering his face.

“I don’t want you to remember,” he states. “It was something very bad that happened to you. It’s for the best that you don’t remember.”

“If it happened to me then I should know!” you exclaim, frustrated that nobody would tell you.

You would get your answers, you would just have to find them elsewhere.

Repeat end quote bc I didn’t have one I liked for this chapter lolz

Taglist:

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[shoshiwrites]

I shall join you in the trash can my dear. For Jo & Bucky from the NSFW prompts (because I am unhinged about this):

[ UNZIP ] sender unzips/unbuttons receiver’s dress/shirt - s l o w l y 🫠

Emaaaaa! Thank you so much for this prompt, and for entertaining my Jo/Bucky ramblings at any time of day. It means so much that you're in the trash can with me on board. This was......... supposed to be a smut prompt and we ended up with............3200 words of Scenes I Really Needed To Write For Them Actually, comma mildly spicy 🙈 Bucky Egan x War correspondent OC. Also on Ao3!

leading with my heart again

She’s read the same page three times.

The coffee’s drained, and the cup of tea, and maybe she ought to stop now, now that her hand is shaking a bit holding the pencil, from the caffeine or everything she hardly knows. 

A hotel bar with a hole in it. When she blinks she can still see the smoke. A few stragglers at the end of the night. Even though the nights don’t end here, they haven’t for years. Local drinkers. Society usuals. A handful of correspondents. Al Stern, a friend of Marian’s. She’d broken out a fresh bottle of gin in his honor. Blanche Aurand, narrowly escaped from Marseilles, her photographer friend. Salim? Jo’s met them all. 

You’re scared, she wants to say. Like it’s not her own self sitting here, the ticking of the clock and the tap of her foot, her toes in her shoes. She reaches up to fidget with the tiny gold hoop in her ear.

The bar is gone now, and so are they.

She hasn’t heard much by way of Thorpe Abbotts lately. She’s trying not to let that bother her. 

If Kay were here, she'd tell her to sit up straight and quit looking like a gargoyle. If-

“Thought I’d find you here.”

His voice is a momentary shock, and still familiar, like a sun-drenched room. He leans against the bar, nods at the man polishing glasses to let him know about an order — the bartender who looks too similar to the last. If she closes her eyes, she sees a white jacket covered in brick-dust, or blood. 

She smells the major’s aftershave, through the smoke of the bar and the bitter coffee. 

He dips his head, an explanation to what she imagines is her still-bewildered face. “Rang your office.”

She really does try to sit up straight, now. Suddenly ashamed, or something like it, of herself next to his freshly-cleaned uniform. Her slacks with a broken crease, a blouse with a wrinkle or two. Her hair’s a mess, or feels like it. “Oh.”

She blinks again, sees that he’s holding a metal tin in his hand — barley sweets, nestled in waxed paper — and a small bunch of torn green stems attached to white-petaled flowers. 

“No cherry,” he says. He looks fondly annoyed, almost. “I told them a few packs of smokes oughta change their tune, but I think they were really out.” 

He surveys the space in front of her, the rings of coffee and the scattered pages and the folded newspaper, the front splash of the dead. Her people, his people, their people. Everyone belonging to someone. She hears him clear his throat. Like he already knows the answer to the question, the one he doesn’t ask. Did you know them? Yes. 

The barkeep’s looking at the two of them expectantly. “What can I get for you?”

She replaces the cup on its saucer, places the little spoon next to it and slides the whole operation towards him. “I’m alright, thanks, Louie.”

The major orders a whiskey, doesn’t let her put it on her tab. He’s not too insulted about it though, he knows her. The question’s silent again, when he’s got his glass, the nod of his chin. Who’re we drinking to tonight?

But she knows now, she knows you don’t ask. His eyes are dark here, in the fading light. The mask-marks, the circles under his eyes. The stray curl always out of place.

“So,” he says, gathering himself, setting the glass back on the bar with a dull thud. “How much time do you need?”

“Time?”

“To get all…” he gestures with his hand. “Unless you’d rather we sit around here all night.”

She taps her fingers on the bar, watches her watch and chain catch the light. Looks up at Major Egan standing there, wondering just how much Kay will kill her if she walks back out of this hotel in a plain black dress. “Depends if you like a girl’s hair with only a few knots or none.”

He makes a noise of dismissal. “I hope Kay won’t be too sore about me whisking you away.”

A remark about Captain Demarco takes shape on her tongue, but she swallows it. “Make it twenty, but I’ll be quick.” 

Upstairs, she does what she can with her curls, washes her face and tries to shape her brows, reapplies her lipstick. The deep cherry color is hardly forgiving, and she has to concentrate to be careful enough with the lines of her cupid’s bow. For a brief moment she thinks of it smudged, on her teeth, on his mouth.

The dress she’d brought over is indeed black, cocktail-length, collared, with a little piped pocket, a bit of detailing. Maybe it’s a little dated, she’ll acknowledge that, but she’s tried to keep it tailored to the current style, fitted, hemmed shorter. Kay would try to send her out in something bright, rose-colored or teal, never mind that it’s October in London. She admires Kay’s boldness. Loves it, in fact, but it’s not for her. 

The bracelet stays, the watch, her earrings, her mother’s medallion beneath the collar of the dress. Heels with thin ties wrapped ‘round her ankles, and her coat. 

Hastily, she’d put the flowers in an empty bottle of Fernet-Branca, figuring Kay wouldn’t mind. He’d had less of an explanation for them than the tin of sweets, something about passing them on his way, something like a boyish smile.  Just as quickly she plucks one, laces it into the back of her updo. It’s already been cut, anyway. She wonders where he’d got them, wonders if she’ll ask. She remembers the florist down the street from her apartment in Philadelphia, the spring flowers outside Pittsburgh. She can’t see it, but he will, standing above her. 

Back down in the lobby, the tips of her fingers brush his shoulder at the low armchair, the last of his drink still in front of him. 

“Now, aren’t you a sight.” It’s not the same voice as usual — quieter. Like he’s drinking her in, like the whiskey at the bottom of the glass. “Too pretty to be out with me, that’s for damn sure.”  

She smiles, and she doesn’t even have to try, sure that her cheeks are a little pink. “Kay won’t be sore about me leaving, but she might have my head about this dress.”

He looks truly confused. “Why?”

Her hand gestures without thinking at the simple sweep of the skirt; she’s suddenly very aware of her legs. “Too boring.”

He makes a face. “Hell with that.” A small sniff, as he reconsiders. “Sorry.”

For the first time, she laughs. “I won’t tell her you said that.”

“Tell her whatever you want, you still look too good to be true.”

Now she’s really blushing. “A sight for sore eyes, huh?” The pendant rests in the dip of her collarbone, beneath the neckline of her dress. She feels it, feels the clasp at the back of her neck and the chain. 

“You don’t know the half of it.” He stands, taking the glass, polishes the last sip of his drink.

She lets herself put a hand on his jacket. “Let me buy your next one?”

He reaches for her hand, for her wrist under the sleeve of her coat. “Now, I’ll have no more of that talk, Josephine.” 

The streets are dark outside, an excuse to stay close to him. A door materializes, a small place with small tables, glowing candles and bottles of liquor and wine. It’s all very respectable, the twirl they take around the floor, and then the next, his hands at her waist, hers up around his neck. A bead of sweat works its way down the back of her neck, between her shoulderblades. He dips his head to ask if she’d like to sit, his temple damp and tacky before her mouth, in the warm room. They do, after another dance, sit and watch the couples sway from a table on the side, listen to the jukebox. I need no soft lights to enchant me- 

She lets him buy her one drink, and then two, the dark rum color catching the candlelight at the bottom of the glass. She doesn’t feel under watch here like she does at the base. Though, there’d been plenty of moments there that maybe they shouldn’t have been allowed. They. She doesn’t know what that means, here in this war. You dance one night and find an empty space the next. Or someone else. His ankle nestles against hers under the table. She wants to kiss him.

What’s stopping her?

His eyes are so blue, and she knows she’s staring. “Got something for you. If- if you want it.” It snaps her out of it a moment, her brow furrowing as he reaches into his pocket. A small gold pin in his palm, the Air Corps insignia. The kind he wears on his collar. “Since I made off with that scarf of yours.”  

The white one, he means, with flowers and Swiss dots. She’d worn it up. He’d taken it as a joke afterwards, smiling, a crack about it being prettier than the one he’d got, but not as pretty as Major Cleven’s. Buck’s. A joke, or so she’d thought. Her mistake to think a pilot’s lucky charms weren’t the most deadly serious things of all. She knows, now. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to think he meant it. 

She could wear it, here in London. His pin. A person would know she had someone. Someone. She doesn’t know how to explain him, for all her words. Brave, like all of them. Brave and funny and flirting, the fiery death or the pretty girl. A heart she wants to curl up inside of. And he’s here in front of her, fidgeting, waiting for her to say something. Here, hands and shoulders and knees. It hurts to think of anything else. She would know who she had.

“See,” she says softly, meeting his eyes. She feels like a schoolgirl, watching him. “Knew what I was doing, wearing black and gold.” She reaches to touch his palm, about to take it and pin it on. He moves to do it himself, leaning forward. She shivers, the touch of his fingers at her throat, under the collar of her dress.

If you would only grant me the right-To hold you ever so tight-

Maybe it’s the light, or the drinks, or the music, or the fact that staying ten minutes past last call could have put her on the front page of that newspaper too. Every mission, the odds go down.

Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at her, like he’s hoping she’ll ask him for something he can give. 

He’s so close to her now. Maybe-

“Mmph-” He tastes like spice and alcohol, the sweat of his upper lip pressed to hers. He releases the pinch of fabric in his hands, the pin now fastened to her lapel. It hardly takes a second for his hands to find her jaw. His touch loosens the tension of her shoulders, sparks warm and firelit in her belly. She stays, lets the kiss grow sloppier until her tongue is pressing against his teeth.

They only stop because she needs a second to catch her breath, to watch him smile at her like she’s somehow surprised him.

“Why are you smiling?”

He doesn’t stop. “I’ll give you one guess, Josephine.”

She thinks better of a retort, lets her cheeks go red and leans forward again, a noisy kiss against his mouth. 

A voice in the back of her head sounds a warning, something distorted, through the sound of the music and the smoky haze. The singer’s own shines through, the brassy big band music that always makes her think of him. There I go, leading with my heart again- She ought to head back to the hotel now, before the night calls for another bar, another drink or three, a bed. And there I go, acting not-so-smart again-

She stands, smooths her skirt, adjusts the soles of her feet inside her shoes. “One more spin?” 

Something falls out of his eyes; he looks like he wants to argue with her, but he doesn’t. A few seconds before he answers. “Early morning?”

She nods, and it feels like the worst lie. Even though it isn’t, she’s got a briefing with the Ministry of Information tomorrow, and plans to meet another source for coffee. Probably more drinks, she thinks. It would hardly be the first time someone showed up for a meeting hungover.

But though it’s unwise, I can’t disguise my love-

Afterwards, they walk back out into the cold night, the smell of his aftershave still in her nose. He touches the flower at the back of her hair. “You got your last dance, can I get a last kiss?”

It surprises her, the forlorn note in her voice. “Where did I use the word last, Major?”

He sighs, or something like it. “Don’t have to, it’s written all over your face.”

Her fingertips find his lapels, the top of her head nuzzled under his chin. “I would hope I’m less readable than that.”

A laugh escapes him, though it’s hardly full of humor. “You’re really not.”

Like you, right? “A shitty pokerface, remember?” 

“‘Cept this time it’s not about the coffee.”

“What’s it about, then?”

He doesn’t answer, leans down and kisses her and steadies her with his hands, what she imagines is her own lipstick tacky against the sides of her mouth. He doesn’t stop, and neither does she. His hand burrows between her coat and her dress, hugging her waist. She presses against it.

They should be walking, or ducked under an eave, not out here like this after dark. This corner. 

Her back automatically straightens when they hear a bicyclist go past, a little huff from his lips and hers as she breaks away. 

“I can still bring you back-” he says belatedly, “if-”

He’s offering her this. Maybe she can admit it to herself now, wanting it too much to refuse.

She shakes her head. “It’s alright, John.”

There’s something in his eyes at that, no Major, just John. “I’m glad.” His voice is heavy when he answers her. Low. His fingertips press against her waist. “I’ve been thinking about this damn dress all night.”

“The dress?”

He smiles, the scratch of his mustache against her cheek. “Alright, the zipper.” He laughs softly, what he imagines her face must look like in the dark, under the cloud-filled sky. “Just bein’ honest.”

Her mouth hovers at the corner of his jaw. “I’d expect nothing less.”

“What else do you expect?” Her chest feels like it’s full of butterflies, when he asks.

“That…you won’t stop talking.” She kisses the spot under his ear. “Please.”

He snorts. Maybe she’s imagining it, the slightest breathiness to his voice. “Now tell me what you really think of me, Josephine.”

Can I? she thinks. “Well, what do you expect?”

He pauses, considering. “That you’ll keep kissing me. Makin’ me blush.”

“I make you blush?”

“Like a tomato, Josephine. ‘Least it feels like it. One flash of those knees and-” She smacks him lightly across the lapel. “Hey.”

“I guess I told you not to stop talking.”

“Yes, you did. Now where was I-”

“My knees.”

“Right.”

A few more couples make their way outside, swirls of perfume and rum and sweat, almost bumping into them. She knows what she’s asking, now. “Maybe we should, uh-”

“Maybe you’re right.”

His hotel is closer, they’d walked by it on the way. She tries not to duck her head in the lobby. He kisses her on the landing of the stairs and again outside the door, forehead lingering against hers.

It’s a large room, larger than she expected, certainly not the little thing she and Kay share at the Highgate, the wallpaper peeling by the radiator. There’s not much of him here besides a bed that’s half-made, a garment bag by the front leg of the desk.

“It’s a nice room,” she says, trying to banish the wobble in her stomach. 

He makes a noise that sounds almost like a laugh. “They know how to charge officers around here.”

“Still.” She reaches back to fidget with the clasp of her necklace. “I uh-”

“Something wrong?”

No. “It’s been-” She’s suddenly embarrassed, left ignorant as to how this is supposed to go. Not ignorant, just-

“Can I get you a drink? We could get something sent up.”

“No, thank you.” It’s probably too late, anyway. He takes off his jacket, drapes it over the back of the small chair at the desk. She takes a deep breath. “I suppose you should kiss me again.”

He smiles, deep and wolfish. “You suppose, huh?”

“Yes.” He does, lets her thread her fingers in his hair. “Suppose I should let you sit, too,” she says. 

“However you want, sweetheart.”

She wants to slap herself for what comes out next. “Really?” 

He looks at her like she’s a little bit crazy. His eyes are gleaming in the low light, dulled against the closed curtains. “You say jump, I say how high.”

She shakes her head before she can stop herself. Her voice is small, and wanting, and she feels suddenly like she’ll fall apart if he doesn’t keep holding her. “Please, just kiss me.” 

Don’t make me think. Let me forget everything except you. 

“Just say the word,” he says, but he’s already got his mouth on hers. 

She’d stopped caring about her lipstick hours ago, and to hell with everything else now. She’s in his lap, here in a locked room, his hand high up her thigh and her own pressed on top of it.

Soon, her dress is around her hips, and he’s got his hands on the top of the zipper, stopping when it catches. He presses a sloppy kiss to her neck, the dip of her collarbone, exposed. She helps him open the rest of the dress, awkwardly, twisting an elbow. He stops, and looks at her with a hazy stare; two kisses, one above each breast, and one to St. Christopher between them. She undoes his tie, not quite an easy task when he’s lavishing kisses on her shoulders. Keeping his promise. She ought to, too. She presses her mouth to the freckles dotting his chest, and one for his crucifix, another for the medallion. Maybe, she thinks, they should use the rest of the bed.

“I’m glad I stopped by,” he says, quiet and rasping and a little bit breathless, his cheeks a shade of coral in the light. 

“You found me,” she says, and it sounds like thank you.

He seems to consider this, his hands stilled under her dress. She can feel him, underneath her. It sends a rush of sparks through her chest, her stomach, her hips. “I did.”

“You did.”

I trust you, she wants to say. But she doesn’t, doesn’t know what to say next. Only brings a hand to his cheek, and his curls, only kisses him again.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The excitement you feel for your promotion ceremony gets tamped down by everything else going on. You feel like Cat is toying with Jake. You're anxious about your husband leaving for eight weeks. And you're hurt by what he says to you on your special night. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing

Length: 5600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

"Hey there, big shot," Jake drawled from your lab doorway. It was early in the morning a few days before your promotion banquet, and you were the only one in the quiet space. Your plan had been to get to work early so you had a chance to get your nails done later, but you could already see that slipping away as he strolled in and made himself cozy. 

"Hi, Jake," you said softly. You'd been avoiding him, and he must know it. But he'd hurt your feelings by not telling you that he and Cat were...something. You could understand why she would decide not to mention it to you. But Jake? You considered him to be one of your best friends. But if he wasn't going to tell you about Cat, then you weren't going to tell him you saw them kissing in the tower. 

"You okay, Angel? Haven't seen you around much. Seen plenty of ol' Rooster's ugly mug, but none of you." His green eyes and slightly raised brow were a good indicator that he was not going to let you off so easily. 

You opened your mouth, about to tell him you'd seen plenty of him in the rec room with Cat, when suddenly she strolled in with her computer and a cup of coffee. The way she and Jake both froze up when their gazes met would have been comical if you weren't so damn annoyed with both of them. 

Jake flushed a shade of pink you never imagined you'd see on his face in a million years, and he cleared his throat as Cat walked coolly across the room toward her usual seat. "Oh, good morning," she said to both of you, taking in Jake's form from the corner of her eye. 

"Lieutenant Coleman," he replied with a dreamy look in his eyes. But Cat said nothing more, nor did she even acknowledge that he had spoken to her. But he wasn't deterred. He told you weeks ago that he planned on asking her out until she said yes. And he did it right in front of you. "Lieutenant, I was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner with me tonight?"

"No," she replied without looking at him. "No, thank you."

You rubbed at your temples, so frustrated by both of them as Jake leaned in close to you and said, "I think I almost have her. Later, Angel." And as soon as he left your workspace, you rounded on Cat.

"Can you please explain to me what is going on?" you snapped. 

She raised one eyebrow at you as she glanced over her shoulder. "Regarding?"

"Jake!" you nearly shouted.

"Oh," she replied with a shrug. "He keeps asking me out."

You slammed your computer closed and stood, and you didn't care that you were kind of looming over her. "I saw you with him. In the rec room. When we were working comms in the tower."

Cat's lips parted, but no sound came out. 

"Did you even care about going out with Cam? Or was all of this some deranged plot against Jake? Because both of them are my friends, Lieutenant Coleman."

Finally she was looking up at you with some remorse in her dark eyes. "I was thrilled when Cam asked me out, truly. But he doesn't like kids, and then the rest of the night just went downhill for me."

You nodded slowly and took a deep breath. "What about Jake?" you asked, pleased to hear that your voice sounded calmer now. 

"He's a flirt," she said without expression. "He seems interested in me. And he's gorgeous. But I can't take a man like that seriously."

"He's my friend," you reiterated, overanunciating every syllable, "and despite how it appears, he is a sweet man with fragile emotions. Please don't toy with him."

She clearly wanted to say something else, but you were on the verge of shedding some tears that would make you look like a foolish child, so you excused yourself and took your computer back to your office. 

You were overly emotional. You knew that. It was everything all at once, and your body couldn't forget the muscle memory of holding Jeremiah in your arms. Conversing with Cat was already hard enough for you; it always had been. But on top of her having Jeremiah, now she was messing with Jake's feelings and seemed to have no remorse about it at all. 

As you closed your door behind you and sank down into your desk chair, you swiped at your tears. As soon as your promotion banquet was complete, Bradley would be leaving you for two months. You were going to miss two months of trying to get pregnant. Everything you did felt like a waste of time and energy, and you half wanted to stop trying for something that felt impossible anyway. 

"Fuck," you whispered, blowing your nose with a napkin you found in your desk drawer. It was sitting next to your old nameplate, the one from before you got married and hyphenated your last name. This time next week, your husband would be well and truly in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, surrounded by young pilots who could probably get pregnant if they wanted to. "What is wrong with you?" you asked yourself out loud, but your voice sounded foreign to your own ears. 

You swallowed down the rest of your tears and texted Bradley.

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

Bradley waited in line impatiently, grabbing two sandwiches, because they seemed like the quickest option. You wanted him to bring lunch up to your office and eat with you there. It was his personal goal to try to make you as happy as he could for the next few days and fuck you nonstop right before he left when you were ovulating. Seemed like a solid plan. He grabbed a few packets of hot sauce just to make you smile and then headed for your office. 

As soon as you opened the door for him, you were tucked against his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist. "Miss me?" he asked, kissing the top of your head. 

"Little bit," you replied. "How was your morning?" 

You pushed him toward your desk chair and then settled onto his lap once he was seated. Any meal where you and he shared a chair or a plate was his favorite kind of meal. He never liked sharing anything before he met you, but now he didn't like being without you at all. 

"My morning was better than Jake's," he said, taking a bite of one of the sandwiches while you drizzled hot sauce on the other one. "I don't know what he did to piss off Hondo, but it's been weeks now of never ending pushups and running laps around the buildings and through the drainage ditch. It's fucked up, but he's taking it on the chin."

"That's not cool at all," you said, glancing at him before you nibbled on your lunch. 

"How was your morning?" he asked, still daydreaming about how he woke up with your hand on his cock. 

"Eh, not great. Honestly? Cat Coleman is once again kind of on my shit list. And I didn't tell you this before but, Roo... I saw her and Jake making out in the rec room, and I really just feel like she's on some sort of mission to......."

You were still talking, but Bradley's brain was processing too many things at once. Oh. 

"Oh," he said, leaning forward and kissing your lips, completely cutting you off. "Sweetheart. Cat Coleman."

You gave him a weird look. "Yeah, Roo. That's what I said. You know Cat." You were speaking slowly and looking at him cautiously. 

"No, Baby Girl. Cat Coleman. Coleman! And Hondo! Holy hell, that's why Jake can't get a fucking break all of a sudden. Because of Cat Coleman."

You gasped and practically tossed your sandwich onto the desk. "I completely forgot Hondo's last name, because he's just Hondo. But that's her Uncle Bernie!" 

Bradley watched your gaze go hazy as he finished his food. Did Jake know about the relation between Hondo and Cat by this point? Did he know that's why he was getting his ass handed to him every day? Did he care?

"Bradley," you snapped, now looking right at him. "Cat's letting Jake take hundreds of extra push ups every day? Like this is fun for her or something?"

"Well, hang on," he started, because he didn't know Cat well, but she seemed okay. "Maybe she doesn't know about Uncle Hondo running Jake ragged."

But he could tell you were seething now, and apparently his warm, cuddly lunch was over, because you stood and thrust your sandwich into his hand. "I'm not hungry anymore," you muttered, pulling your phone out.

Bradley sighed and finished your sandwich in three bites and stood as well. "Don't worry about Jake too much," he whispered, kissing your neck as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. You smelled good. He wanted to run his nose and lips all over your body, undress you inch by inch and take his time with you. He knew you would be ovulating soon, and he thought maybe a quickie would be good? Maybe get a jump start on the month?

"I've got to go talk to Cam," you said. "Will you lock my door when you leave?" You kissed his cheek and then you were gone. So he took a minute to make sure his erection wasn't visible, and then he locked your door before heading back to the tower. 

It looked like Jake didn't even get a lunch break. He was soaked with sweat, and it wasn't even that hot out. Bradley watched him finish some push ups before getting to his feet and standing at attention for Hondo to lay into him. Bradley stood still, not wanting to get Jake into any extra trouble. But no matter what Hondo was saying, Jake only showed him the highest level of respect. 

When Jake started to head inside where everyone would regroup for the afternoon, Bradley followed him. "If I knew you weren't getting lunch, I would have brought you the hot sauce contaminated thing my wife didn't eat."

"Nah," Jake said, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "It's cool."

He seemed very relaxed about his push ups. Bradley wasn't sure what he should do or say. He wasn't sure how much Jake knew about Hondo. However... if he was no longer complaining about being singled out in these punishments... surely he must know.

He couldn't catch himself before he blurted out, "She saw you, man. She saw you and Cat."

Jake's eyes went wide, and he stopped wiping at his sweaty brow. "Angel saw us?"

"Yeah. And I sincerely hope you know what you're getting into here. You know who Hondo is?"

Jake nodded and softly said, "Yeah. Figured that one out on my own from the last name, and the fact that they're both from Maryland and do look a little similar."

"So what?" Bradley asked, shrugging sarcastically. "You're going to just let Hondo wear you down bit by bit? Even though you've been flying great? I take it he adamantly objects to you fucking his niece?"

Jake's eyes flashed with anger as he rounded on Bradley. "I'm not fucking her. I'm not fucking anyone, okay? I thought I made that clear."

"Okay," Bradley said, holding his hands up in surrender. 

"That's not even why I like her so much," Jake grunted. "I asked her out a bunch of times after she had that bad date with Cam Harvey. One day I asked her when we were alone in the elevator, and she told me to shut up, and then she kissed me. And then she kissed me again in the hangar. And then she kissed me in the rec room, and fuck... I don't know what to do. Because we made out in my car yesterday. And I asked her out again, and she told me no. Again."

Bradley was trying not to laugh out loud, so he simply said, "My wife is kind of pissed at you, I think. Please fix that." And then he headed for the stairs leaving Jake sweating for more than one reason. 

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

You had been avoiding everyone else for the past few days, not only because you were sick of the bullshit, but also so you could spend more time with Bradley. You started tracking when you were ovulating on your phone, but you hadn't told him about it. You didn't even really like thinking about it yourself, but since you had a visit with your doctor coming up, you wanted to be able to talk about your fertility. 

Bradley let you sleep in late on Saturday, and when you finally rolled out of bed, the smell of coffee and toast had your stomach growling. When you went into the kitchen, Bradley was naked, leaning against the counter and reading something he got in the mail. Tramp was sitting at his feet, hoping for a little snack. As Bradley raised a piece of toast to his mouth, he turned to look at you. 

"Morning, Sweetheart," he said, clearly startled as he flattened down the mail and tossed it carefully aside. 

"You're naked," you whispered, taking your time, letting your gaze wander everywhere. The tattoo on his right bicep made your skin feel warm, and his thick cock had you licking your lips. 

"Yeah, I've gotta wear a suit all night. I'm trying to get my freedom in now," he said with a grin.

"You're ridiculous," you giggled, closing the distance to him and pressing your lips to his tattoo. 

He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to your ear, keeping you in place as the prickle of his mustache had more laughter bubbling out of you. "You want me to make you some toast?"

"How long have we been together, and you still only know how to make toast?" you asked, turning your head to kiss his lips. 

"Hey, be nice. I get better every day."

You licked his mustache, and Bradley's cock throbbed against your belly. "Yeah, you do, Roo," you whispered, smiling against his lips. As your fingertips brushed along his scarred cheek, he slowly reached for the hem of his soft UVA tee that you were wearing. You shivered as he guided the fabric up, skimming your body with his fingertips as he went. "You get better and better," you moaned. 

The shirt was discarded across the room, and Bradley's hand went right to your dainty Rooster tattoo before he grabbed you by your hips and lifted you up onto the kitchen counter as you squeaked. He sighed deeply as he planted his palms on the counter on either side of your butt and leaned in close to you.

"You don't even want toast, do you?" he asked, brushing your lips with his as you looped your arms around his neck.  

"No," you whispered, nipping at him as he pulled away a few inches. "I don't want toast."

You spread your legs wide and let your toes trail up and down his legs, urging him closer, but he just smirked. "Tell me what you want, Baby Girl. I want to hear you say it."

His tip was right there, teasing your entrance with his precum as your head tipped back, and a soft, needy sound escaped you. Bradley's hands went to your hips, fingers digging gently into your flesh. When you met his eyes, you knew he was ready to go, but you knew he wouldn't until you told him.

"I want something sweet for breakfast. A creampie from my husband."

"God damnit," Bradley groaned as his big hands squeezed your hips. "I'm all yours."

As you scooted to the very edge of the counter and took his length in one of your hands, you guided him inside you where he belonged. "Yeah, you are," you confirmed, and then he started thrusting. You had to hold on tight as he whispered the loveliest things that made you feel like you were going to float away.

"I love you."

"You're perfect."

"I was made for you."

"Show me your pretty eyes when you cum for me."

So you did. And even though you were sweaty and your glasses were crooked on your nose, Bradley told you that you were everything he wanted, and he gave you that sweet creempie after serving up a delicious orgasm on a silver platter.

You kept him buried deep, his lips on your shoulder as you cradled his head and stroked your fingers through his hair. "I love you, Roo." He continued to treat your oversensitive skin to his lips and hands, making no move to leave you yet. After a few more minutes, when his mouth settled on your collar bone and your hands were enjoying the feel of his biceps, you thought he might get hard again while he was still inside you. 

Just as your pussy pulsed with excitement at the idea, Tramp ran to the front door, barking up a storm. Bradley leaned to the side and groaned as he looked out the window. "It's Jake's car."

You whined and tried to keep him in place, but Bradley pulled his cock free of your pussy, and you knew his cum was dripping onto the granite counter by the look on his face. "So pretty," he whispered, swiping his fingers through the mess quickly, and when you parted your lips, he slipped his fingers into your mouth. "Such a filthy wife." You sucked his fingers clean, and then there was a hard knock on the door, and you were scrambling for your shirt. Bradley ran to the bedroom, but a few seconds later, he threw you a pair of your leggings. 

"I'm getting in the shower," he informed you as you pulled your leggings up over your messy, sticky thighs. 

He was gone again as there was another knock on the door. "I'm coming!" you shouted, giggling, because you just did. But when you opened the door, Jake was standing there with a huge bouquet of flowers. "Hi," you said a little cautiously. 

"Angel," he drawled, handing the blooms to you with a shrug. "You gonna invite me in?"

You could hear the shower start up in your bathroom along with one of Bradley's playlists. "Sure." He slipped past you and started playing with Tramp. "What are the flowers for?"

He looked at you like you were very dense. "You're being promoted tonight, Lieutenant Commander. And, I've been a bit of an ass."

You snorted and carried the flowers to the kitchen, setting them down next to Bradley's mail pile. "Well, that's nothing new."

"No," he replied, "I suppose not. But I was rude to you the other morning, ignoring you as soon as Cat got there."

You sighed and eyed him carefully. "You shouldn't let her take advantage of you. I know about you and Cat, okay? I saw you in the tower like a week and a half ago, kissing in the rec room." Your voice sounded bitter, and you felt like you needed to defend yourself, but he was already talking. 

"I know you know. Rooster told me. And I'm sorry you didn't hear it from me first, Angel." His brow was creased, and he was looking at the floor.

"Why do you look sad? You're dating Cat."

He met your eyes instantly. "Is that what you think? Angel, she won't go out with me at all. I've asked so many times, but she just wants to mess around." He ran his hand up and down the back of his neck and muttered, "I'm getting the impression she wants to sleep with me as long as I'm willing to keep it quiet."

Your blood was absolutely boiling now as you pulled him into a hug.

"Hey, no, it's okay," he whispered, patting your back before pulling away again. "I didn't even come here to talk about that. I just wanted to say good luck, and I can't wait to see your new pin next week. Oh, and I'll be around if you need anything when Rooster's gone."

Just then your husband strolled back into the kitchen, thankfully wearing clothes this time. He just picked up his mug of what must be room temperature coffee and kissed your cheek. "Listen to Jake, Sweetheart. You call him first if anything happens."

You rolled your eyes as Bradley smirked and leaned against the counter where you'd recently been sitting, stuffed full of his cock. "I will." 

The three of you chatted for a bit, but when you noticed that it was noon, you kicked Jake out so you could start getting ready for the night. But you were happy Jake had stopped by. It made you beyond upset that Cat was toying with him, but he wouldn't talk about it any further. 

When Bradley led you through your bedroom and into the bathroom, you smiled. "Why don't you take a nice, long bath before we get ready to go?'

You kissed him as he patted your butt and leaned down to get the water ready for you. And then he brought you a flute of champagne and a sandwich, and you soaked until the water started to turn cold. 

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

Bradley didn't know why he was so nervous. He had been nowhere near this bad when he was the one being promoted to Lieutenant Commander. But now that it was your turn, it was a combination of so many things. He was proud of you, and he wanted everyone to know it. He watched you get dressed earlier, and he knew that you were wearing one of your matching sets of sexy honeymoon underwear. He was nervous he'd put your pin on wrong. He was supposed to be texting photos to your parents. 

And you were ovulating, and he had a hotel room upstairs all ready for the two of you. This morning in the kitchen had been a real spur of the moment treat. He'd loved that. But he knew that you and he needed to get serious over the next day and a half before he left on deployment. 

He was spending so much time thinking about your cycle, that he almost forgot to take a picture of you being introduced with Captain Bickel and some other guy from your lab who was also being promoted. The urge to stand up, point you out and let everyone know you were his wife was strong, but he kept it together. He was, however, clapping the loudest for you. 

Your eyes caught his where he sat at the banquet table in the hotel ballroom, and he couldn't believe you were his. You were charming, beautiful and so smart, and you had that little tattoo just for him. He was obsessed, and he just knew a baby would happen eventually. It had to. You'd be the perfect mom, just like Carole. And he'd learn how to be a good dad, just like Goose. Bradley was already spending so much time thinking about baby names and the fact that he wouldn't mind a job teaching at Top Gun versus constantly flying missions.

"Oh shit," he muttered, jumping to his feet. It was time for him to pin you. Time for him to officially make you a Lieutenant Commander. He lined up off to the side of the small stage, waiting for his turn. Your bright smile and the soft curve of your cheek had his heart thudding in his chest. Nobody deserved this shit more than you did, and your smile just grew when he walked across the stage with your new pin in his hand. 

Bradley let his fingers skim along the white fabric of your jacket as he whispered, "Hey, Baby Girl."

"Hi, Roo," you replied, and he kissed your cheek softly before he added the little gold pin to your jacket that would make everyone stop and salute you. 

He patted it in place and said, "I'm proud of you." And then as an officer himself, he saluted you, and you reciprocated with a smile just for him before he left you up on the stage in the spotlight. Then your boss said so many flattering things about your work ethic and your character. And by the time you were dismissed from the stage, you came running into his arms. 

He held you against him, and you snuggled into his suit coat. When you eventually met his gaze with the most innocent looking expression on your face, he should have known you were about to make him blush. "Roo," you whined softly. "Admiral Simpson isn't here tonight. Who's desk are you doing to fuck me on, Daddy?"

You were a handful, literally and figuratively. His hands slid down your lower back to the top of the swell of your ass. "I thought you might ask about that. I got us a suite for the night. Penthouse. Pink champagne. A nice big desk with no time restraints and nobody to interrupt us."

Adoration washed over your face as you kissed his neck just above his shirt collar. "You're the best."

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

Sitting through dinner between your boss and your husband was challenging, but after a glass of wine, you managed to pull it off. On one side of you, Bickel was talking about your lab. On the other side, Bradley was whispering about eating your pussy. 

As soon as dancing started, you took Bradley by the hand and let him out into the lobby. "You're done?" he asked with a smirk. 

"Yes, I'm done. Take me to our suite and do all that shit you just promised me."

"Anything you want, Lieutenant Commander," he rasped next to your ear as he removed your hat and handed it to you. As you waited for the elevator, his lips were on your hair and his hands were working on the buttons of your jacket while he hummed a song. You were so horny, you were ready to burst, probably because you were ovulating. But you'd barely been thinking about that at all. You just wanted your husband nonstop. That's what you were focusing on. 

"Fuck me on the desk," you moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pushed you back against the wall of the elevator next to the control panel and selected the top floor. His hands were smooth as he unzipped your pants and eased his hand inside. 

"I'm going to fuck you everywhere." His body was huge and warm, and he had you boxed in. "I want you to keep that sexy bra on for me. Reminds me of our honeymoon."

You moaned so loudly, you barely heard the bell indicating that you'd arrived at your floor. Bradley picked you up and carried you out into the hallway where a family was waiting to go downstairs. "Evening," he muttered unapologetically as you giggled and sucked on his neck. He looked delicious in his blue suit, but you wanted him out of it, and you wanted his cock inside you.

As soon as you saw the beautiful hotel suite and chilled champagne, Bradley had you on the desk on your back, and he was leaning over you. "You gonna let me eat that pussy, Lieutenant Commander?"

"Yes, sir!" you whined before he kissed you hard and sloppy. He was working your shoes, socks, pants and underwear off, and soon you were there in your unbuttoned jacket and wrinkly shirt, naked from the waist down. The cool air on your skin had you tugging him by his hair until he released your lips. "Get to work," you commanded, and his mustache twitched as he smiled and slipped two thick fingers inside you. "Oh!"

"Don't rush me," he grunted slowly, pushing his fingers deeper. "I have plans for this pussy. I'll take care of everything."

And he did. He knelt on the floor and pulled you closer to his mouth, blowing softly until you were whining and begging to be touched. And then he ate you out until you had tears in your eyes. 

"You're dripping onto the desk, Sweetheart," Bradley muttered reverently. "Oh my god." He licked a stripe from your asshole all the way to your clit, and you could tell you were about to cum. He used his wicked mouth and fingers in tandem until you were grasping the edge of the desk and panting. And then you came for him when he told you to. 

When you sat up in a puddle of your own juices, you were dizzy and disoriented. Bradley stripped you down to just your white bra as you enjoyed the aftershocks of your orgasm. And then while he was still dressed in his blue suit with just his hard cock hanging out the front of his pants, he kissed you softly.

"Spread 'em nice and wide for me," he instructed, squeezing your thighs. "Show me that pussy." You did as you were told, because you were smart. Your husband had plans for you. He fucked you silly so that you were leaning back with your hands braced on the desk. Bradley was big and strong, and he managed to get just the right leverage so that you were seeing stars and gasping for air with every hard stroke. It almost hurt. But it felt too good at the same time. 

"Roo," you groaned, mouth hanging open and legs spread wide. His face was red, and the veins in his neck were prominent. You wanted to lick them and the beads of sweat dripping down his cheek, but he had you pinned in place by your hips. And he didn't slow his pace until he came inside you, chanting praises about your tight pussy and your pretty tits. 

And you were still a little dizzy as you and he climbed in bed, unwilling to clean up his cum before you got cozy. You were snuggling on top of him, giggling as his suit was half on his body and half off, and he was kissing your face as he caught his breath. 

"I like promotion banquet hotel room desks," you whispered, wondering if it was a good time to go pop that bottle of champagne. 

"Fuck, Baby Girl. I like everywhere with you," he groaned, tightening his arm around you. So you decided to forego that champagne for now and bury your nose against his neck where you felt warm and loved. 

You were about to tell him how much you were going to miss him for the next eight weeks. Your lips were parted, and the words were right there. But then he kissed your forehead and said, "Okay, I was looking at the calendar earlier, and your cycle is really working in our favor. You're ovulating now, and you should be ovulating again when I get back, so really, we're only going to miss out on one month of trying."

You swallowed hard and remained silent, but your heart was beating faster in a way that was making you feel nauseous, and your lip was quivering. 

"Roo," you whispered, unsure what to say. 

"I know," he added. "It's not ideal that I'm leaving now, but at least it's not for any longer. I've been thinking about it a lot, and taking a month off isn't the end of the world."

Tears leaked from your eyes, hot and angry. It was no use trying to hide them. He knew you were crying right away. "What?" he asked, surprised by your reaction. 

You jerked your body away from his and wiped at your eyes. Suddenly you wished you were wearing more than just your bra as you gasped, "I was enjoying my night! I wasn't even thinking about that!"

He looked like you'd physically hit him. "Oh. It's just that I'm always thinking about that, Sweetheart."

"Me too!" you replied, hands shaking as you climbed out of bed. "But taking one fucking night off to be proud of myself for something in my life that I can control was feeling really good!"

He looked at you cautiously as you found your underwear and then dug around in your overnight bag for more clothing. "I'm proud of you, Baby Girl. I told you that."

"Yeah," you snapped, pulling on a tee shirt. "And then you fucking ruined it by acting like I'm a job to be done. Like getting me pregnant is something to check off your list of chores." You threw your arms out to your sides as you stood in front of where he was still laying on the bed. "But guess what, Bradley. I'm not pregnant. Sorry. I'm sorry your chores are taking so long for you to complete!"

You choked and started sobbing on the last word, and when he reached for you, he was decidedly the last thing you wanted right now. Instead you turned toward the bathroom where you could be angry and hurt in peace.

A few minutes later, you were curled up on the bath mat when he knocked softly on the door. When you didn't respond, he tried the handle which you had locked. "Will you let me come in?" he asked softly. 

You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to fight off all of the intrusive thoughts that were already filling your head and heart. Your voice was quiet and hollow as you said, "I'm sorry I can't give you what you want." And eventually you fell asleep right there between the toilet and the tub.

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

Roo, you're a team, sweet boy. Baby Girl, you're perfect. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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