#bfs fan fic

[starzioo]

i biblically need this man.

[mappedfantasy]

> wash me clean again

summary: vessel is far too exhausted to wash off his own body paint, so you help him. pairing: vessel x gn!reader warnings/tags: sleepy!vessel, roommate!vessel, bf!vessel, clingy!vessel, use of petnames (darling, babe), established relationship, showering together, size difference, praise, touch starvation, biting as a love language, begging, making out, non-sexual intimacy, slightly suggestive (if you want to view it that way), reader heavy dialogue. word count: 1.1k a/n: read this fic by @badomensgoodomens the other day and felt inspired to write something of my own based on the same concept. thank you for making it, very sweet, loved it <3

ao3 link

You hear Vessel faintly calling for you from the bathroom. 

“Darling?”

You push the bathroom door open to find him sitting down in the bathtub with the shower running. Your heart crumples in your chest at the sight of him. Poor thing. It only worsens when he lifts his head, puppy-dog eyes catching yours as if to plead. He looks fucking exhausted.

“Darling, can you help me?” he asks, voice at almost the same volume with the water, lowering for the sake of saving whatever energy he can.

This is when you notice that the washcloth in his hand is stained gray, and that his body paint has low effort scrubbing streaks. 

“Yeah.” You drop down to a squat at the side of the tub, reaching for the washcloth from his hands. 

He snatches it away, low in attempt. “You’ll get the floor wet.” God, he’s nearly whining. You catch a glimpse of a frowned pout on his lips. 

You push yourself, hands on your knees, into a standing position. You begin to slip off your clothes, discarding them into a pile on the floor. A hand slides the shower curtain over even more so than it was open before, like that wasn’t getting the floor wet. 

“Vess, let me help you up,” you tell him gently, offering a hand down for him to take.

And he does. He takes your hand in his, becoming easily engulfed by the size difference of you two. He gets to his feet with a small stumble. Being this wrecked surely was making his head foggy, maybe enough to spin. You slip in, in front of him, closing the curtain behind you.

“That’s it.” You guide his hand to your shoulder, to keep him steady. He keeps the other on the shower wall after handing you the washcloth finally. 

You begin to wash his stomach. The touch is full of love despite the pressure you have to put down to get the paint to come off. 

“Are you really tired, hm?” You ask him, flickering your eyes up for a second to try at meeting his. 

But his eyes are closed, trying to get himself through this from what it seems. “Mhm…” he gets out. It’s muddled and taut. 

Moving upwards his chest, you wash out a spot enough to plant a kiss in, then change to a graze of a bite that was stronger resemblance to your teeth scraping against his skin. He groans out quietly, barely there at all. 

“Can you do that again?” He asks you. You both knew you could never say no to him. 

His stomach and chest have been stripped clean of black, remaining only his shoulders and neck. You apply more soap to these areas since it had run mighty thin from the other scrubbing. Exposing the pale skin of his shoulder under the dark makeup, you take a bite of him. Harder this time. By now, you knew he had a little thing for biting, was a love language to him. Vessel needed it. You feel a shiver shock through him. You land another nip onto his neck where you have to stand on your tiptoes to reach, lurching him down by the smallest hint. 

Vessel’s body slouches against yours, his back hunches over due to the height difference between the both of you. His cheek smooshes into your shoulder and his slickened skin slides along yours to rest his nose in the cranny where your neck and shoulder meet. You feel him huff subhumanly. His arms dangle beside him which almost brush your body. And one of your arms is wrapped around his lower back while the other gently washes at his sides to get rid of any residue paint there. His arms are slow in movement as they come around your back, resting low there, and gently pushing you closer to him. You use your nails just barely on his back, causing a low groan to come from Vessel’s mouth. 

“Fuck…” he drags the word out low, “that feels good.” He’s hushed, almost at a whisper if his voice wasn’t thick on getting those words out. 

Your mind can’t go there, and so, you won’t. You want to take care of him, softly. He deserves it firstly, but secondly, he also needs it. 

Instead, you hum in an agreeing tone. “Yeah?” Your nails go along his back, back and forth laggardly. “That feel good, babe?” You hope he picks up on the smile in your voice.

He grunts and you feel the brush of air on your neck again. You let out a small laugh, dry one. 

“Good,” you say.  

You throw the blackened cloth into the corner of the tub, bringing Vessel close to you in a hug. “I’m so proud of you,” you tell him. His body sinks further into yours, his weight becoming more of your responsibility than his. His lips press unhurried kisses into this side of your neck and down your shoulder. Retracting back, up, into his normal stance as much as he can bear with his fatigue. 

And you start to move back too. He needed to get into your bed as soon as he could get there. But he stops you. 

“One kiss. Please?” 

His face is brought down to you by your hands cupping his jaw, placing a tender kiss to his lips. They work slowly with yours as he makes another whine. You try to match the noise, licking into his mouth one good time before pulling away fully. 

“So lucky to have you,” you murmur to him.

Vessel looks at you with those same pleading eyes. “Can I have another? Just this one. Please?” 

Your lips catch his for one last kiss, relishing this one, him licking into your mouth this time. Whine.

That’s where you step away and cut off the water. You step out of the tub. You turn to hold your hand out for him to latch onto. And he does. You help him to not slip, his brain was not functioning at all if it was in any shape to work before. The two of you share a towel, not being arsed to use two separate ones. He nudges his head into your hand when you began to towel dry his hair. 

“How about we get you to bed, hmm?” You ask, tossing the towel somewhere into the bathroom. That, along with finding clothes, was a worry for a different time. Later, after Vessel had been taken care of, after he got some sleep.

He trails behind you like a lost pup. “Please.”

[ladyrowrites]

“EX-BOYFRIEND GOJO”

A/N: Just had a thought about this lol! Might have more ex-boyfriend series :)

Pairings: Gojo x Afab reader

Warning: Angst, Gaslighting, mentions of stalking and bribing, swearing, death threats, smoking, MDNI!!!!

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who gives you the annoyed look everytime you ask him to talk and fix your relationship. He’d sigh and say, “What now, y/n? Am I not enough for you?” 

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who broke up with you because he accused you of being too controlling even though you only asked him to tell you where he was and who he was with every time he said he was going somewhere. When you said that you only wanted to know so you’d stop worrying, he also accused you of being jealous. 

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who hated seeing you move on to someone else so he bribes or threatens all your prospects. Your dates will neither show up or just ghost you. When you learned this from Shoko, you immediately deleted all your social media, changed your phone number, and even changed your home address to escape from his toxicity. 

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who panicked when he went to your house to confront you why you deleted all your social media accounts but it was a stranger who answered your ‘supposed’ to be home and basically harassed Shoko for your new info. Shoko gave Gojo the finger and said, “Leave her alone.”

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who saw you outside your workplace with a blonde guy who was wearing a blue button up shirt under a tan blazer with matching slacks and light shoes and thought why were you two laughing so much and why were you two so close? He was about to approach you but you saw him in your peripheral vision and took your co-worker’s wrist and ran inside your work building. 

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who was furious when he saw you ran away with a nobody compared to him. Really that guy? He bribed and threatened your boss to give him your new address and phone number. There was the biggest smirk on his face because he thought he won.

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who was now fuming because it was the guy he saw you with answered your door and looked so nonchalant at him with a cig in his hand. “Who the fuck are you?” was what he said, the blonde hair guy replied, “If you don’t leave her alone, I will personally help her file a restraining order from you.” And closed the door in his face.

Ex-Boyfriend Gojo who knocked loudly again but when the door opened, his face fell. The same guy now had a cleaver with black and white spots on it in his right hand, and said, “If you don’t leave now or ever…” Then blew a smoke in his face, “I don’t think there will be a nice ending for both of us and I really really don’t like going to jail.” Your ex-boyfriend Gojo just nodded and left.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Steve Harrington x reader | sex in the shower with boyfriend!steve 🧡

You woke to the sound of running water close by. As your eyes blinked open and drifted to the bathroom door, you noticed it had been left slightly ajar. Moist air drifted from inside, along with the woodsy, peppery scent of your boyfriend’s shampoo…

You grinned contentedly, remembering all the ways Steve had made love to you the night before. Stretching your arms and legs under the sheets, you felt a large, damp patch in the middle of the bed, and your smile grew wider. The image of Steve’s face between your thighs lingered in your mind…how handsome he’d looked, covered in your slick from his hairline to his chin. You’d squirted several times in a row as he ate you out, soaking not only Steve but apparently, saturating the sheets beneath you as well.

Memories of last night traveled straight from your mind to between your legs. Your cunt was still puffy and moist from Steve’s efforts the night before. He’d come inside you when he finished, and the combination of Steve’s release and yours was a sticky reminder between your thighs of the cum-soaked state he’d left you in…

You returned your focus to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom, listening to the stream of water shift as Steve’s body moved under it. You decided that waiting any longer for him to fuck you again was not an option. Pulling back the sheets from your body, you tiptoed naked to the bathroom, and gently crept inside. The small room was warm and inviting, the air thick with moisture. You reached for the shower door, carefully sliding it so you wouldn’t startle Steve.

…When his hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you inside with him, a surprised little gasp escaped your lips, quickly followed by giggles as Steve pulled you close. His arms surrounded you in warmth, wrapping around your waist and pressing your chest to his. Steve’s back faced the shower head, droplets of water splashing from his broad shoulders and onto your breasts as he squeezed you closer.

The coarse hair on Steve’s chest looked even darker than usual, matted down with water and just beginning to curl. The friction it caused against your breasts felt incredible. Your nipples perked instantly, rising to meet the soaked nest of hair they were immersed in. Steve didn’t miss the way your eyes fluttered in a soft expression of bliss when he pressed his knee between your thighs, nudging your clit. Steve kept his knee locked there, his muscular thigh wedged flush against your cunt. He could feel your need, the way your pouty pussy throbbed against his skin in time with your heartbeat.

Steve’s lips met yours in a kiss that tasted of rain in the middle of Summer, fresh and warm as it melted between your lips. His tongue played tenderly with yours, gently stroking and caressing into your kiss. Your cunt wept greedily against Steve’s thigh, the evidence of your arousal dripping down his leg, mixing with the water and circling the drain.

Steve’s hands wandered up your back, his fingertips tickling your spine. The gesture made you shiver against him, your nipples perking even firmer, goosebumps dotting your skin. Steve’s lips ventured to your shoulders, kissing the goosebumps away, his fingers lacing delicately through your hair. He rocked his thigh against your cunt, pulling a desperate whimper from your throat.

“Steve,” you breathed, and he nodded in response, water dripping from the ends of his hair. “I know, baby,” he said, sliding one hand beneath your thigh. “You don’t have to say it; I already know…”

Steve lifted one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, hoisting you up so your knee was bent over his elbow. With his free hand, he reached between your bodies and took hold of his cock. Rubbing his tip between your slick folds, Steve collected a generous amount of your cum on the head of his cock before pressing inside you, filling you whole.

The position gave Steve even deeper access to your cunt than usual; with his body bent slightly at the waist and your leg elevated to the level of his hip, Steve could fuck places inside you that more standard positions didn’t allow.

Your forehead was pressed to Steve’s chest, tears of relief burning behind your eyes as you squeezed them closed. Every upward punch of Steve’s hips hit a place so deep inside you, it felt like you were being stretched open for the first time, like losing a second virginity in part of you that hadn’t previously existed.

Steve’s eyes were glossy, his gaze fixed between your bodies, watching his cock disappear inside you. Your needy cunt swallowed Steve eagerly, sucking him like a vice. His thrusts began to grow desperate in pursuit of his climax, the heady burn of pleasure within Steve at its absolute peak.

With a groan of release, Steve erupted deep inside you, emptying against your cervix and painting your vagina in cum. Immediately after his orgasm, Steve went to his knees in front of you. He shoved his face between your thighs, hungrily probing your pussy. With his tongue buried in your cunt, Steve let you ride him to your own climax. You clutched Steve’s shoulders for support as you humped his face and bounced on his tongue till your orgasm was spilling through you in waves. Steve licked your vagina clean, sucking his cum from between your lips, peppering delicate kisses along your puffy cunt before rising to his feet, and taking you again into his arms.

A warm stream of water and cum dripped between your bodies as you held each other inside the shower. Tilting Steve’s face to yours, you teased his lips apart with your tongue. The sweet, salty flavor of your cum and Steve’s blended together as you explored each other in a deep, passionate kiss. Steve tugged your bottom lip between his, sucking lightly. When he released it, he was smiling, his pretty hazel eyes adoring you. “Let’s dry off and get back in bed,” Steve grinned mischievously. “So I can get you wet all over again…”

[thought--bubble]

Make You Beg

Ettore X Prison Nurse Reader X Will (Salad Days)

Warnings after the cut

Word Count: 2736

Ettore Masterlist

Will (Salad Days) Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

Gorgeous Banner inspired by this story made by @vhagar-balerion-meraxes it is so beautiful!

A/N: Not me writing the filthiest thing I can imagine with two minor characters. This is purely self-indulgent.

Warnings: Ettore is his own warning, mentions of physical violence, blood, Dubcon , biting, scratching, predatory behaviors, hair pulling, mentions of pain, some sub/dom behaviors, degradation, fingering, oral sex male receiving, PinV unprotected, rough sex, deepthroating, crying, humiliation and praising.

"Again?" You sigh as your favorite frequent flyer, Will, shuffles into your exam room with yet another bloody lip and possible broken nose.

"What can I say? I missed ya. " he chuckles as he makes his way to the gurney on the left.

You put your hand up to the guard that brought him as he goes to handcuff him to the gurney.

"That isn't necessary. Will here won't give me any problems" You smile at Will, you have been through this with him many times and have built a friendly rapport. You trust him to behave.

"It isn't you that I'm concerned about" the guard laughs heartily, as another guard walks in with an inmate you haven't seen before.

The inmate has clear injuries to his mouth but would still be lesser priority than Will.

Will rolls his eyes and audibly groans. "This fucking nonce"

The other inmate lunges toward him, the guard grappling him to the floor.

"Cut it out!" The guard yells authoritatively, the inmate on the ground immediately stops struggling, allowing the guard to get him back to his feet.

You shriek as you jump back. "Should we even have them both in here at the same time?"

"They will be fine as long as this one can learn to shut his gob," the guard by Will says as he latches Will's arm to the metal post of the gurney.

You move to the second inmate as he is also latched to his gurney. "Ettore," the guard next to him says. "Watch out with this one he is a....... just watch out"

You look at the two guards with confusion as they move toward the door. "Where are you going?!" Your voice is laced with panic. You have never been left alone with an inmate, let alone two.

"The fight they started devolved. It's all hands on deck. They are hooked tight. You'll be fine. I will come back as soon as possible"

"Surely you are joking?" You whimper slightly as the two guards leave the room, closing the door quietly behind them.

When you turn back around, you see your two patients. Each handcuffed to their gurney. Will looking over at Ettore, hatred etched across his face while Ettore stares directly at you. Tilting his head slightly to the side as his eyes wander up and down your form.

"Right. Ummm, " You nervously wipe your palms on your thighs trying to quell the nausea creeping its way up your throat. "Will seems to have more injuries, so I should tend to him first"

You nervously move toward Will while trying to position your body so that you don't entirely turn your back on Ettore.

"I wouldn't let him hurt ya, ya gotta know tha" Will smiles at you from his place on the gurney, his voice soft and sweet.

"No offense, but you let him hurt you pretty good." You chuckle as you start to dab away the blood on his lower lip with a cotton ball.

"Yeah, well, that's different. Two blokes throwing blows. Not the same thing as an animal like that coming after a lass. " You can hear Ettore grumble from across the room, his handcuffs clacking against the metal bar of the gurney.

"Will," you say warningly "remember, watch your words. I don't want any further trouble with you two."

"You know what he's in here for?" He asks, making your stomach turn. You don't know and don't want to know.

"You're all in here for something, hardly my business, to know what" You finish tending to his lip and start to clean around his eye.

"I robbed a post office. Then beat my best friend half to death over a girl that never even liked me. I'm an idiot. Not an animal. " You stay silent and continue to tend to his wounds. You had always wondered how he found himself in here. He was scrappy, but he was so sweet.

"He is an entirely different beast." He motions toward Ettore, who simply scoffs.

You swallow nervously. Between the comments from the guard, Will's analysis and Ettore's lecherous gaze you had an inkling of what type of "beast" Ettore might be, making the fact that you have to treat him all the more daunting.

"I'm here to heal, not judge. Now sit back. " You push Will back against The gurney by the shoulder so you can inspect his nose further.

"You have such a handsome face. You really should stop getting punched in it. " You move to set his nose, and he grunts.

"Think I'm handsome, do ya? He wiggles his eyebrows at you and smirks.

You blush and pat his shoulder. "Nose should heal up fine."

You turn and walk towards Ettore, your stomach dropping.

"Hello Ettore, let's take a look at that mouth ok?" You take his chin in your hand and angle his face upward and can't help but notice the goosebumps that ripple across his skin at your touch.

Swallowing deeply, you gently ease his mouth open with your thumb and use your little flashlight to peer inside. "Doesn't look like any teeth were knocked loose or anything like that so you should be fine."

You move to leave his bedside, but his hand shoots up and holds your wrist tightly. "Ettore....." You attempt to sound intimidating so you could assert your authority over him.

"Oi!, let her go!" Will yells from the other side of the room, his cuffs jangling wildly against the metal bar of his gurney.

Ettore pulls you down roughly toward his face and sniffs into your hair with deep, long controlled breaths.

You stay very still, your mind telling you to run but unable to respond physically. Frozen in place while Ettore continued to sniff you.

He clamps his hand tighter still on your wrist as he grips the hand cuff with his other hand pulling tightly until the gurney bar snaps out of place.

Your breath hastens as you hear the light jingle of him sliding the handcuff down and off the bar before bringing his newly freed hand to the back of your head gripping your hair tight and pulling your head back.

You can feel the harsh thump of your heart beating in your chest as he drags his nose down the length of your neck, breathing in deeply. You can still faintly hear the sounds of Will struggling against his confinement on the other side of the room as Ettore begins to speak quietly.

"Do I excite you?" He asks as he nips at your neck. You feel a burning heat building in your core. You know you shouldn't. This is a bad man. A man that you should not be anywhere near. Yet you gently nod your head as he smirks at you.

"Hey! Let her alone!" Will desperately attempts to free himself to no avail. The desperation evident in his tone.

Ettore bites into your neck harshly, and you can't help but squeak. "Mmmm," he grumbles into your neck. Shivers of pleasure and fear make their way down your throat and down the length of your spine. He gently licks at the marks he left, the stinging sensation further adding to the heat building in your core.

Will's struggling is echoing throughout the room, and his desperate pleas pull at your heartstrings, seemingly breaking the spell Ettore has cast upon you. You pull yourself away from Ettore and stumble backward a few steps.

Your brain telling you to put as much distance between him and you as possible, your body begging you to return to him.

Ettore looks at you with curiosity and then smirks, swinging his legs over the side of the gurney.

You turn and walk back to Will quickly. "You alright?" He reaches out and gently touches your cheek before turning his head towards Ettore, who is now stalking over to you.

"Let her alone!" Will wraps his free arm around you, clutching you toward his chest. His heart beating loudly against his rib cage. The feeling comforting.

Ettore wraps his arms around your midsection, pulling you towards him while Will swings at him wildly with his free arm.

"I swear I'll kill ya!" He yells, desperately pulling against his restrained wrist.

"She don't want that..... do ya?" Ettore strokes his hand down the side of your body, lightly grazing over every curve and dip, until he reaches the waistband of your scrubs and quickly brings his hand to your heat.

Pleasure shoots straight through your body all the way down to a pleasant tingle in your toes at the touch.

"No," you just barely whisper, leaning your head back against Ettore's shoulder.

Will's mouth drops open in shock. "What?"

He watches as Ettore rubs at your pearl in circles, your head leaning back against his shoulder, your muffled whimpers growing in volume.

A satisfied smirk crosses Ettore's face as he continues pleasuring you while his gaze is fixed on Will.

"Want more?" He growls in your ear, his never-ending staring contest with Will still raging on.

"Yes," you moan more than whisper desperate for more of the delicious friction his hand was providing. Ettore bends you over the gurney, your chest pushed down into a stunned Will's lap. He makes quick work of your scrubs and panties, bringing his hand to the back of your head and yanking you up by the hair.

"Look at him," Ettore growls as he shoves a finger into your cunt, pumping it furiously. "Make him beg for some"

You lift your eyes to meet Will's while wanton moans escape your lips.

Will brings his hand down to your face and gently strokes your cheek with his fingertips. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. The praise going straight to your heat.

Ettore removes his fingers from you and pulls his own pants down to his mid thighs stroking himself a few times before roughly grasping your hips and shoving his cock inside you all the way to the hilt.

You scream at the sudden intrusion, the pain mixing with pleasure as you feel yourself split open on his girthy length.

"Shhh shhh, you're ok," Will gently coos as Ettore starts to pound into you furiously. Dragging his free hand down your back, his fingernails digging into the skin like an animal marking its territory.

You emit a sound somewhere between a painful screech and a moan while Will takes your face in his hand. Like you were made of glass, his tender touch mixing with the raw animalistic touch of Ettore, causing a swirling of pleasure to radiate up through your stomach.

Will shifts on the gurney, adjusting himself, trying to hide his growing bulge as he watches Ettore take you, all the while providing you with tender words and caresses.

Your mouth hangs open as Ettore roughly drags his cock against your walls battering your insides with reckless abandon. Your eyes connected to Will's as he wipes the tears that stream down your face.

Ettore reaches up and once again grips your hair, yanking your head back.

"You're a little fucking whore aren't ya?" His breathing is labored, each of his thrusts somehow seeming harsher than the last.

"Yes, yes," you whimper your mind blank and fully submissive.

"Then act like one," he grunts as he shoves your head down harshly, your face pushed up against the erection hidden within Will's trousers.

Will looks at Ettore with anger lacing his face.

"You don't have to do anything for me. Don't worry about me. " he pushes Ettore's hand away from the back of your head and caresses the recently abused area with a gentle touch.

"I ... I want to" your voice bounces as Ettore continues to slam into you from behind the skin on your ass going numb from the repeated skin to skin smacking.

"Uhh..." Will's voice is unsteady as you bring your hand up to his bulge, gripping his length over his trousers. He closes his eyes and groans at the pressure, shocks of electricity traveling up his spine.

You pull at the trousers and Will lifts himself up for a moment allowing you to get them down enough to free his cock.

"Only if this is what you want" He says breathlessly as he grips his length tightly the angry red tip leaking pre cum.

"Fuck!" Ettore growls loudly from behind you digging his fingernails into your skin. "Do it you little fucking whore."

At Ettore's demand you take the tip of Will's cock into your mouth swirling your tongue around the tip moaning as you taste the pre cum that has begun to collect there. "Shitttt," Will moans as he pushes your hair out of your face, giving him a better view of you with his cock in your mouth.

Ettore's thrusts grow harder forcing Will's cock further into your mouth as he begins to involuntarily buck his hips. "You're so fucking pretty, so pretty" Will moans stroking the back of your head gently as Ettore's cock continues to roughly spear your cunt and Will's cock batters the back of your throat being pushed further and further until you struggle for oxygen.

Ettore grabs at your ass digging his fingers into the skin before bringing his hand around your hip and rubbing furiously at your pearl.

"Cum you dumb slut. I want to feel you clench around my cock as I fill you up" he snarls like an animal in heat leaning down and biting into the soft skin of your back.

you whimper at the demand and the pain, feeling your climax creep up closer and closer, unable to do anything but succumb to his wishes.

"Let go beautiful," Will whispers pleasure etched across his strong features, his thrusts into your eager mouth growing sloppier by the second.

With his gentle words and Ettore's rough touch, your orgasm wracks your entire frame. You moan loudly in pleasure, eyes rolling back, and legs nearly buckling beneath you.

You hear a loud grunt from behind you as Ettore empties himself into you, his fingernails again digging into the plush flesh of your hips.

Will thrusts into your mouth twice more before he whimpers releasing a salty stream of cum down your throat before collapsing back on the gurney.

Ettore pulls himself from your quivering walls and pulls up his trousers quickly, moving back to his gurney and plopping himself down with a satisfied huff.

Will slowly pulls his softening cock from your mouth pulling your face up towards him and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"You alright?" He asks as he rubs your back soothingly.

You're too winded to speak and can only absent-mindedly nod towards him. He fixed his trousers before leaning over and helping you pull your own bottoms up.

"C'mere," he coos, pulling you onto the gurney with him cuddling you with his free arm.

"You did so good. So, so good, baby. " he kisses your shoulder and gently rubs your hip where Ettore had dug into your flesh.

You jump from the gurney quickly as you hear the deep voices of the guards nearing the door. Running over to Ettore and sliding his cuff back onto the metal bar of the gurney and popping it in place, hoping they wouldn't notice that it is broken.

You fix your hair as quick as you can and wipe the tears out from under your eyes as the door swings open.

"Everything go alright in here?" one of the guards asks, hardly looking at you before moving over to Ettore and unlocking his cuff.

"Yes," you clear your throat, trying to make sure to hide any hint of your dazed and satisfied condition.

"They are both fine and cleared to go back to their cells." You wave your hand towards the door dismissively. Your ultimate goal is to get all of these men out of your exam room immediately.

Ettore is removed first. He says nothing just drags his eyes up and down your frame once more before being dragged out the door.

Will, on the other hand, smiles toward you as he is led out behind him.

"Next time I'm coming alone!" He yells just as the door closes.

You sit down in your chair winded, confused and aching.

"Next time?"

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[astermath]

hey! could I get some hc’s for the series of Dave and the popular girl? swf and nsfw if possible. TYSM!!!💗

omg yes absolutely! so glad you asked, I really love writing for these two <333 don’t know if you wanted nsfw headcanons too but i kept it to just sfw ones for now, hope you enjoy!

would love to hear you guys’ thoughts and headcanons about these two as well :3

“so? whatever.” dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader: landing page.

♡ even though your family is way wealthier than dave's, he still buys you gifts. flowers, your favourite snacks, those earrings you were gushing to him about. yes, you could easily buy them for yourself, but that doesn't matter to him.

♡ you make up for it to him by buying him expensive, rare, limited edition comic books.

♡ one time he cried because of how happy he was when you got him a special spiderman comic. you happily sat on his lap while he explained his favourite parts about it after.

♡ you know that meme that’s like “he asked for no pickles on his hamburger”? yeah. that’s you two. he may be tall, muscly and your city’s most popular vigilante, but he’s also dave. and dave is still getting used to sticking up for himself.

♡ it doesn’t make it any better that your brothers friends still mess with him sometimes. so, you’ve had to set the record straight to them a few times. cussing them out, threatening to beat their asses, or just pulling in your boyfriend for a deep kiss to really drive the point home.

♡ dave does the same thing when todd or marty make a comment about you being a bimbo, or a mean girl, neither of which are true. and he makes sure to remind them that the only reason they’re not getting shoved into lockers anymore is also because of you.

♡ surprisingly, your dad has taken a serious liking to your boyfriend too. he was skeptical of him at first, thinking he was some pervert trying to get into his daughter’s pants, but he sees that not only is dave is smart, he really, really loves you.

♡ and either way, he could never deny his little girl of anything. even if it is loving the biggest dork he’s ever seen.

♡ when you go shopping, he always carries your bags. all of them. not like it’s hard for him, with those beefy arms.

♡ he also loves it when you give him a little fashion show showing everything that you bought. then again, he’d think you’re beautiful even if you were wearing a trash bag.

♡ he always loves to watch you get ready. you think he’s not paying attention, reading a comic or scrolling on his phone, but he’s watching your reflection in your vanity mirror out of the corner of his eye. smiling at the way you look so concentrated when doing your eyeliner, or how cute the pout of your lips is when you apply your lipgloss.

♡ WILL sing along with whatever pop song you put on. taylor swift, ariana grande, olivia rodrigo, he’s humming along at first and suddenly you realise. he knows all the words. and he’s just fully singing along with you because he knows you love those songs.

♡ dave is not much of a gossiper himself, but he will always hear you out when you have some juicy tea to spill. like no way, jessica really said that? god, she would have the nerve, no wonder her boyfriend cheated on her— you giggle, it’s a funny sight, seeing your nerdy sweet boyfriend get so into the drama of it all.

♡ he’s really happy and really grateful that in the end, he’s never a secret for you. you’re very happy to have him as your boyfriend, and you’re not afraid to let the world know. anyone who has a problem with that would have to deal with your sharp tongue and biting remarks.

tag list ₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

@nephilimsss  @tangerinesgf @dynamitehacke @izzyisstuff @cinawoah @amoebagrl @ykyouluvme  @stilloverthinking  @durag-tanaka @earth-elemental18 @caxddce @777iii @a-simp-for-broken-people

[only-lonely-star]

⁠♡ Brown Eyed Girl ⁠♡

~ Sodapop Curtis ~

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Warnings - None! Just cute and sappy moments!

Summary - Based off of ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ by Van Morrison !! 💌

Author’s Note - This song reminds me of Soda soooo much so I just HAD TO WRITE A FIC!! I used the song for this fic for inspiration and vibes, not so much the lyrics. I’m a little iffy about the ending so I might edit it a bit. ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT LOVELIES !! 🫶🏼

Word Count - 1.2k.

˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙

To some, you may have seemed utterly insane. The two of you looked like you had been pulled straight out of some romance flick which was far too sappy for anyone to ever finish. Nobody could quite blame you, though. The love you were given time and time again was something people killed for. Your love was rare, it was a one-in-a-million kind of love. Who else would feel crazy enough about you to dream of taking you on so many fun adventures, wishing to explore the world with you?

Sodapop Curtis, of course.

The sunlight had just begun to disperse amongst each grassy hill. The world seemed alive yet again, the moon now a sight that could only be viewed through a squint. The distant fog was lifted and replaced with clouds that looked almost cotton-like. A quiet morning, but a beautiful one. Your bare feet sank into the plush dirt below, the damp grass acting as a carpet for you to run across. You’d lost both heels along the way on account of Sodapop’s fast-paced sprint. Hand in hand with your boyfriend, he guided you up and down the hills of the secluded valley. “Wait, Soda - !” you called out to him, laughing along the way.

“Can’t! We’re almost there!” he replied, his grin wider than you could’ve ever imagined.

Stumbling along behind him, you couldn’t help but crack a smile. Your dress had been absolutely soiled from the various dirt stains splattered across it, and your shoes were long gone, but none of it mattered at this moment.

Sodapop hiked along to the top of the hill with a pep in his step, panting, as you followed. He came to a stop, helping you up along with him. Your knee was on the verge of giving out entirely as you planted your foot onto the peak of the dewy hill beneath you.

“Baby, wait - c’mere,” Soda smiled endearingly. His hands pulled your body closer to him, kissing you before you could even catch your breath. That was the fun of it, of course - gasping for air yet craving nothing more than his touch. Your arms found their way around his neck, encircling him in a tight squeeze. “Ain’t it pretty?” he asked, momentarily breaking the kiss.

Your eyes drifted towards the scenery behind Sodapop, attention focused on how breathtakingly gorgeous of a spot he’d found. No sign of civilization could be found. The valley extended for miles farther than the naked eye could see. Flower fields scattered around the vibrant green grass. It somehow felt prehistoric - as if no human had ever come across the pasture and colonized the territory. There was a picture-perfect view of the sunrise from where you were standing atop the hill. Smaller hills spread all over, and tall grasses billowed in the wind. It was more than perfect, actually.

“Sure is,” you could no longer contain your smile as you attempted to catch your breath, “How’d you ever find such a beautiful place?” your voice was filled with awe as the wonder in your eyes only seemed to grow.

“Used to come down here with Pony all the time, he loves this lil spot,” he motioned to the hill just a little ways down. “I bet he’ll spend every second he gets down here once school lets out.”

“It’s gorgeous,” you emphasized, stepping even closer for another tight hug. Sodapop snaked his arms around your waist with a charmed smile. As you pecked his cheek, your body could sense his sly grin reappear.

“See that flower field over there?” he asked, his voice soft against your neck. You hesitated before nodding, only because you hadn’t a clue what he was planning. You could tell he was about to say something just to rile you up. “We’re gettin’ married there. Oh yeah - definitely. Have a little get-together with Darry…Pony…everyone.”

You kissed his lower lip, removing your arms from around his neck. “Shut up, Soda - it ain’t happening anytime soon if that’s what you’re gettin’ at.” Your eyes instinctively rolled in response to him, yet your smile was unwavering. He could pry all he wanted, but you were sure you’d never commit to marriage at the ripe age of sixteen. “God, you’re such an idiot.”

His chest jerked backwards from the force of your hand which was intended to be nothing but a small nudge. Your eyes went wide, grabbing a hold of his arm in a lousy attempt to pull him back up. “SHIT - ! Soda!”

Sodapop could only holler, the immediate fear now turned to nothing but a laugh. He stumbled back, losing his balance. No matter the situation, he would always drag you along - this was no different. Your own feet weren’t enough to keep your entire body planted into the warm grass. Tumbling down the hill you went, screaming the entire way down. Your arms extended out as if they could do something to help balance yourself. Within seconds, Sodapop crashed into the flowerbed of pink cosmos, yanking your arm downwards before you stumbled right over him. He quickly shifted to lay on his back, his knees in the air.

A low groan fell from his lips as you fell flat against his chest. Sodapop’s hands steadied you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he burst into pure laughter and joy. Bringing your arms up so that your elbows could prop yourself up in the grass was nearly the only thing you could do. On top of the now crushed flowers, Sodapop held your body down, the sunlight casting a warm hue on his golden hair. “That was insane!” he cried out, his cheeks now reddened from smiling so hard.

“I didn’t mean to. Honestly, baby, I didn’t,” you tried to reassure him as you sat up on his lower stomach. A faint giggle, partially of embarrassment, the other half of amusement, escaped your lips. The back of your hand was raised to wipe off the small shreds of grass off of your forehead.

“Turns out I ain’t the idiot,” he mumbled as his cheeky grin took over once more. His hands gently ran up and down your sides, feeling the soft fabric of your dress graze against his skin. Your waist was by far his favorite place to let his hands rest.

You picked the grass out of his hair gently and cupped his jawline. Forcing a sarcastic sigh, you leaned your face closer to his. “Okay…wedding when?” you were acting as nothing but a tease to him.

“Whenever ya want. Pick a day, I’m there.” Sodapop replied confidently. His hand pressed down on yours as his thumb stroked your soft skin subconsciously.

Your gaze never left his, and a few unspoken words were exchanged through the intimate eye contact. You were well aware not a hint of sarcasm was found in Sodapop’s words. He was as loyal as a dog and didn’t have eyes for anyone else. His heart thumping against yours was all you needed at this moment. Maybe not sometime soon, but one day. One day you will settle down with him. You’ll spend every day with him, living a life never knowing what heartbreak truly meant.

Your lips became latched onto his yet again. His eyes fixated on yours, and you spoke with a soft smile. “I love you, Soda… but gosh you’re such an idiot!”

He couldn’t even be mad. Sodapop was willing to wait as long as you needed as long as he had you by his side. He kissed you with just as much passion as he proudly wore your lipstick on the outer corners of his lips. He’d love you forever.

[yelenasdog]

vibrant, saccharine, his ☼ (fwb!mat barzal x fwb!fem reader) 

genre: filthy smut, fluff, angst with happy ending

summary: pretending is getting harder, for both of them. and after a hard roadie, mat’s not sure if he wants to pretend anymore.

words: 8.7k (WOAH)

warnings: cursing, excessive use of parentheses, friends with benefits arrangement, smut, unprotected piv, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, blood (reader bit lip too hard oops!), pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty boy), reader is described as having sisters and a dog, food mention, idiots to lovers, misunderstood situation, reader uses she/her pronouns, and i think that’s it.

a/n: when i started this, i originally was just writing a blurb and then it turned into a full ass fic with a plot?? and fwb??? idk man, im nervy to post this since ive never published for nhlers before but oh whale! and ty to @eminems-skittles for reading this for me and checking it over 🤍 love u

“You played so good, baby.” She breathed, welcoming him home with open arms.

“Not good enough, apparently.” He responded, letting her fingers card through his raven locks. Soft, freshly cut. She loved when he grew it out, but yet again it was him, so anything worked.

She sighed, letting her thumb fall to his cheekbone, knowing what he was referring to. It had been the last stop of the road trip, he’d had a hatty and despite making it to OT, it wasn’t enough in the shootout.

He’d had to wait an entire flight and car ride afterwards to see her, only giving her a brief text when he got off the ice (“We lost. Had a hatty. Fucking Toronto.”) (like she hadn’t stayed up to watch the game) and another when he landed.

And after so long of whatever the two of them had going on, she’d known better than to try to send him some long and winded attempt at a pick me up message. She settled for just responding “I’ll be here.” She didn’t need to say it though, he knew she’d be there.

She always was.

To anyone else it would’ve been sad, how she waited up for him, late nights spent lonely with just her and her dog, as he jetted around North America. In her mind, he was no doubt giving himself away to whatever random puck bunny threw herself his way.

Despite this, she was loyal, even though she had her suspicions about what he did when they were apart. And frankly, it wasn’t a part of the “deal” that they had to be exclusive, and it was none of her business. But truthfully, after so long, she couldn’t count on some washed up juniors player to give her even a fraction of the satisfaction he had.

So, she did this whole routine, whatever this was. She stayed up late watching his games, sitting on her couch in his sweatshirt he left. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but whenever she wore it, she liked to pretend.

Pretend that she was an obedient girlfriend wearing her loving boyfriends sweater. That as she sat curled up waiting on the corner of the beat up black sofa, 3 coffees in at approximately 1:37 am, she would be rewarded for her efforts come morning time.

That her and said loving boyfriend would lounge around together in bed (after he woke her up in the best way he knew how, showing her how grateful he was. Like I said, she loved when his hair was long enough to tug on, and even though she endlessly made fun of his patchy stubble, she couldn’t deny how delicious it felt burning between her thighs. Especially after they’d spent so long apart.) Then they’d go and grab late brunch, holding hands under the table as they sipped mimosas, which were Mat’s guilty pleasure only her and the waiter knew about, before heading home.

Maybe then they’d FaceTime his mom back in Coquitlam, an early riser with the 3 hour time difference. Mat had felt bad interrupting her morning routine, but she’d never pass up an opportunity to talk to her boy and the girl who she hoped was her future daughter in law.

After they got off the phone, she’d tell him how much she loved his mom, how her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. He’d tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, watching as she leaned into his touch.

“Missed you, Mat.” She’d say, closing her eyes.

“I missed you more.” He’d respond, his voice nearly a whisper. Her eyes would flutter open, and he’d recognize the look in them immediately. He felt his blood rush, and suddenly their proximity, which he’d never get used to, was very obvious.

“Oh yeah?” She asked. “I doubt that.”

He swallowed, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Her eyes hungrily swept over them, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and capture them with her own.

But patience is a virtue, she supposed.

“Want me to prove it, pretty boy?”

Words failed him, and all he could do was nod. He relaxed into the sofa, watching as she dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hands were on either thigh as he fought the urge to lay his tired head back onto the beat up pleather behind him. It had been too long, he thought. And he’d be damned if he was going to miss out on seeing her do what he’d only imagined in the shower, or over the phone for the past 16 days.

She reached her hands up from the muscle of his thigh up to his tummy, her cold hands shocking him as she reached under his sweatshirt- the same one she’d been wearing before.

Her hands drifted, down, down, down, to the waistband of those damn Lululemon shorts she’d got him for Christmas. He held his breath, watching as they danced around where he needed her most and then-

The doorknob turns, and she’s brought back to reality. Sleep had almost claimed her, iced coffee left abandoned on the coffee table, a ring of condensation already drying on the glass. She attempts to smooth out her hair, hoping that her brief almost-nap hadn’t left her too disheveled.

Not that he’d care.

She stood to greet him as he opened the door, hockey bag, and garment bag, and duffle bag, and backpack, and- God, did he really need all that- and suitcase, dropped unceremoniously as he entered the threshold. He kicked the huge bag to the side, and it landed right under where her keys and her leash for her old mutt, Warrior, hung from the wall.

Above the leash hung a picture of her and her sisters, with her running shoes on the floor beneath it for easy access. They were nearly squished by the gear, and if it had been anyone else’s shit crushing her 160 dollar sneakers, she’d be angry. But the sight of his bag near her shoes was so weirdly domestic, she could’ve cried.

She, yet again, was snapped out of her fantasy by the closing of the heavy door, watching as the man in front of her shuffled forward, immediately allowing himself to be held by her. His head fell to her shoulder, and rather than the usual clash of teeth and shoving to get to her room, (they never went to never his place after a roadie. He needed to be away from the constant reminders of it all for awhile, just to be surrounded by her) she simply dropped a chaste kiss to his temple, letting her arm drop from his hair to his broad shoulders, squeezing once, twice, three times, on either one.

He stood up, and she led him to her room, though he knew the way well enough. Her hand in his felt nice, comforting, even, and he wasn’t going to complain. In the beginning of the arrangement the two of them had, touches like that had been normal. But as time went on, the barely there brushes and gentle caresses stopped all together.

He wanted to say something, wanted to ask her what was wrong, if it was something he did. But when he was off the ice, Mathew Barzal was not a man who liked to push his luck. So he didn’t. He let the touches slip away, and took what he could get from her.

Which right now, was toeing off his shoes, and crawling onto the plush comforter of her bed. It smelled like that sparkly ”fairy dust” shit from Lush he saw sitting on her bathroom counter once, cotton candy and bubblegum infiltrating his senses. That, and her favorite floral perfume he was all too familiar with on her pillow. A combination of scents he usually would find too much, sickly-sweet. But it was her, and that alone made it the most soothing aroma he’d ever known.

Initially when he’d gotten off the ice, the adrenaline had been pumping, and his anger had been rampant. All he’d wanted was to get home to her, have his way with her. To have an outcome he could control.

He’d kept himself relatively calm in the locker room, not having any outbursts towards Ilya, or anyone for that matter. If any of the guys had noticed he was uncharacteristically quiet, they didn’t say anything.

That is, until the bus ride to the airport.

He had been typing out his text to her, (Hatty, lost in OT, Toronto, you know the one), when he had felt a pair of peering eyes. Sitting in the back of the bus, he’d thought he’d done well to avoid such glances, but apparently not.

“Y’know, you shouldn’t be sulking so much.” A certain French-Canadian spoke, the brunette man’s tired eyes lingering over Mat’s hunched over form.

If there was one thing he didn’t need right now, it was more pep talks from Tito. He’d had more than his fill in the locker room. And though he loved the guy, he didn’t need to be told again how he “did everything right” and had a ”killer game”.

Because he knows, and that’s partly why he’s so mad.

Partly. As the other part is the fact that he wants more than anything to come back to NY to her arms. He was exhausted at this point, and rather than having his way with her, he now just wanted to be welcomed home into those ridiculously cozy sheets. He wanted her to light up all those overpriced candles she loved so much from Bath and Bodyworks, and for Warrior to snuggle up by him, stinky dog breath be damned. He wanted her to turn on ”Miracle” in the back as white noise, and laugh as she repeated all the lines from memory. (He may be Canadian, but he can appreciate a heart warming story told by Kurt Russell when he sees one.)

More than anything, though, he wanted her. And not just for an hour or two before he inevitably dragged himself out of those silky sheets that felt heavenly on his back, leaving her sleeping beside him. She looked peaceful in those moments, and he often wondered what she dreamt of. If she was dreaming of him as he did of her.

Bottom line was, Mathew was the victim of a series of unfortunate events. And the man to his left could recognize that it wasn’t just the hockey that was bothering him. (Though, that whole situation did suck pretty bad, he’d admit.)

So when Anthony told him he shouldn’t be sulking, he flashed him a tight lipped smile and a nod, before looking out the window at the Toronto sunset. The oranges and pinks were stunning, and more than anything their vibrancy reminded him of her. The smile she’d give him in her post-orgasm glow, or of the orange blossom on the bottle of perfume on her vanity. Beauvillier’s gaze never faltered, though, recognizing the deep train of thought his close friend was experiencing.

The screen of his phone had begun to darken, the draft of his message just barely visible. Tito’s eyes quickly shifted from the screen and back up to Barzy, opening his mouth and pausing momentarily.

“Who’re you texting?”

Mat quickly turned off the device, the “click” sounding out in the quiet bus cabin, most of the Islanders players catching some shut eye or watching that new Game of Thrones spin off.

Personally, Mat didn’t get the appeal.

“Nobody, just… a friend I’m visiting tonight when we get back.”

Anthony’s eyebrows went up, making a face of understanding as he slowly nodded three times.

“A friend, huh?”

Mathew nods, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go. “Yup.” He adds softly for good measure, popping the p.

“You visiting a friend after a game like that, this late, hm?” Another pause. ”Must be an important friend.”

“Yeah.” His voice is soft again, compassion coming across his features and he thinks of her again.

“Well“, Anthony starts, popping in his earbuds and opening his phone to his Music app. “I’d say whatever’s going on with this friend seems worth talking to her about.”

Mat‘s head snaps up, and he scoffs, shaking his head.

“I didn’t say that it was a she-“

“You didn’t have to, buddy.” Tito winks in the most annoyingly-Tito way, and chuckles to himself. He then lays his head back onto the navy material behind him. Mat “hmph”s to himself, doing the same. He turns his phone back on again, going to the chat between the two of them. The still blinking cursor seems like it’s mocking him as he runs a hand over his face, hitting send.

If there’s gonna be any deep, emotional shit, it can wait until he’s not 2500 miles away.

7 hours later when he finally crashes through her front door, he swears the relief he feels mixed with the sense of dread it all might be over in an hour, gives him whiplash. But nonetheless, she welcomes him in, and she feels like home.

Warrior watches from the couch, his tail lazily wagging as he observes his owner greeting the man who occasionally slips him bacon from his Starbucks sandwich. His old man (old dog?) body doesn’t find the arrival of the hockey player worthy of leaving his nest on the sofa, as to him that’s all Mathew Barzal is. The bringer of bacon.

To Warrior’s owner, though, he was so much more.

The trek to the bedroom felt like it took an eternity, and as he laid on her bed, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a bad idea to push his luck for once. Risk ending it all to gain everything.

She laid down next to him, and he shifted, going from laying with his arms crossed under his head, to one next to her head, the other keeping him stable from his position on top of her.

Her hand crept up to push an unruly lock out of his eyes, and she leaned forward, and he met her halfway. They paused briefly, taking each other in after so long, before finally closing to distance.

He tasted warm, like cinnamon and something she couldn’t place, and she wondered if at the airport he’d gotten one of those pretzels she knew he liked so much. To compliment his psychopath reminiscent black coffee, of course.

His hand went from where it had been cradling her face down to rest on her hip. The soft touch elicited a whimper, and at that he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

She recognized that something was off, swimming around in that pretty little head of his. A small frown etched its way onto her face, and she lifted his chin up so he had no choice but to look at her.

“What’s wrong, Mat?”

He took in a shaky breath, looking over to his left, where the TV was on some random wallpaper, a sunset, he realizes. He scoffs, looking back at her.

“Can you just- can we- can I- fuck.” He mutters, slowly falling down so his body weight is nearly on top of her.

“Can you just… hold me?”

She swears she’s never heard him sound so broken.

“Yeah, baby, ’course. C’mere.” She replies softly, allowing him to fully rest on her. It was a miracle that he didn’t fully break down right there, at the feeling of her fingertips dancing over his skin, under his pushed up shirt. His nose was cold against her neck as he dragged it up against her to come to her cheek, pressing a kiss there. His eyes never opened, afraid that if they did, it would all just be another elaborate fantasy he’d created to pass the time.

“Is this a good idea?” Came her voice, cutting through the silence.

He sniffles. “What do you mean?”

“This. Us.” She says, not able to meet his gaze where he’s lifted his head.

“We’re going to get hurt. More than we already have.”

Oh. Oh, fuck this was happening right now. Mat sat up, feeling like a scared teenage boy. Damn you and the way you read people, Beauvillier. Maybe this would’ve been easier from 2500 miles away.

“We don’t have to.”

“What other option do we have?” She said, sounding defeated, like she already knows her answer and she doesn’t like it. “I-I can’t keep doing this no strings attached shit. Not when you do this. Not when you come here all beat up like some sad puppy.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. And he was.

“Don’t be. I should’ve known this would happen.” Her voice was soft, her eyes distant.

“That what would happen?” He questioned. She looked at him like he had two heads.

“That you’d leave, Mat. That this whole pretending bullshit wouldn’t be enough for me.”

He leaned forward again, catching her off guard.

“I’m not leaving you. I’d never leave you.”

She looked away briefly, mentally cursing herself for being so emotional as tears began to well up in her eyes. He fell to her side, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Do you really want this?” She asked, the tears rolling down her face illuminated a hue of pink from the salt lamp on the bedside table. Mathew reached out a hand, dragging his thumb over the droplet. He hated that she was crying, but fuck, she sure looked pretty while doing it.

His answer came without thought, he’d done enough of that on his way over.

“Yes. I want you in every way, if you’ll have me.”

A small smile came onto the corners of her face, and she nodded, shortly at first, but more exaggerated as they started laughing, a small “yeah?” escaping from Mathew. She responded with the same, and he took that as his sign to reach forward, closing the distance between them.

And like all the times before, they fell into their routine, her hands going down to his hips, lifting the gray material of his shirt over his head. He returned the favor, the two of them moving in sync as she lifted her hips and he gently slid off her shorts. He ran his palms along her bare thighs and she shivered at the feeling, a reaction that didn’t go unnoticed by Mathew.

“I missed you, y/n.” He admitted, running a hand through his, now, unruly hair.

Another vibrant smile came across her face, easing whatever nerves Mat had left over from his confession.

“I missed you more, Mathew.”

He shook his head, dipping down to leave sloppy kisses on her neck. Taken aback, she let a shaky breath escape. He pulled back, satisfied with the response he’d pulled from her.

“Not possible.”

In a moment of boldness (and a slight hope to allow a fantasy to come to life) she challenged him.

“Prove it, then.”

His eyes darkened, then, and he surged forward. Her remaining clothes, which was just his sweatshirt and a flimsy cami, were gone in an instant. She was left in just a pair of black undies, Mat nearly cumming on the spot at the sight, like he’s some horny teenager. His apparel soon joined the growing pile on the floor, as she made a remark about how it wasn’t fair he was still so covered.

She shamelessly raked over his naked form, save for the black boxers, with his firm muscles, sore from the roadie, prominent as ever. She might’ve been drooling, she wasn’t sure. He smirked, the effect he had on her not lost to him.

The two began to kiss again, and there was no other way to describe it other than that it just felt right.

Mathew wasted no time, allowing his hand to trail down and cup her clothed heat, his thumb passing over her clit and past her entrance with a feather light touch. She shivered, her hips lifting up to chase the brief sensation. He pulled her panties to the side, teasing her entrance with his middle finger.

It was immediately covered in her slick, as was the black fabric he’d moved aside. It made him groan just from the sensation alone, making her chuckle at his behavior. Her laugh soon was cut off as he sunk the finger in, giving her no time to adjust, not that she needed it with how ready she was for it, before adding another.

His palm just barely grazed her begging clit as he pumped in and out slowly. And as she continued to lift her hips trying to feel him deeper, push his hand closer to her clit, she fully expected him to push her down and put her in her place.

But this whole thing was about showing him how much he missed her, how much he appreciated her. To show her that he was staying. And him staying meant that he’d have plenty of chances in the future to be an insufferable tease, but right now wasn’t one of those times.

“Matty, please-“ it was more of a breathy whine, not intelligible to an untrained ear. But thankfully for her, that wasn’t Mat.

“You want more, baby?” He questioned, knowing the answer. She nodded, hair splayed around her like a halo on the pillow. She was still illuminated from the TV screen and the salt lamp, making her look like an angel of sorts, not of this world.

“Look at me then, sweetheart. Wanna see that I’m makin’ you feel good.”

Her eyes that met his were glazed over and doe like, and it melted Mat’s insides at just one look. He did his best to push down the mushy feeling that arose, before realizing he didn’t have to anymore. He could feel as sickeningly in love as he wanted, no consequences.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. So needy, fuckin’ perfect girl.” He remarked, adding in a third finger. She let out a borderline pornographic cry, and Mat picked up his pace. His gaze only faltered from her face, contorting in pleasure, back to where he was pumping in and out of her, unable to resist the urge to watch in amazement.

Though her legs were flailing, going from propped up to sliding down and spread, rustling the comforter, she somehow had enough mind to reach a hand down. She attempted to run tight circles around her clit, but not before her hand was pinned to her side by the center above her,

“No, baby. Lemme.”

His range of motion was wider and his thrusts harder as he curled his fingers to perfectly hit that spot inside her that made her see stars, fully trailing his hand over her sex. He repeated the action again, and again, and again- and fuck, she didn’t know how long she’d go on like this but she never wanted the feeling to stop.

He felt her tighten around him, and he picked up his pace, knowing she was almost there.

“Mat!” she managed to get out between strangled moans and panting breaths. He leaned down, kissing below her ear on the one spot he knew drives her crazy. She was halfway thinking, well, less than halfway with her state at the moment, that he would cruelly pull his hand away as she reached her peak. So she clamped her thighs together in an attempt to trap him, subconsciously more than not.

It didn’t stop him from grinding his palm against her like he had been, leaning down to capture her lips with his in a searing kiss.

Everything at once was just so much, the obscene sounds coming from both their mouths and her wet heat, the feeling of Mathew’s bare skin on top of her, the feeling of warmth radiating from his body, and oh my God, after so long it’s fucking finally happening-

He felt as her chest seized and she pulled away from the kiss, her head slamming back before falling to the side. She cried out, her orgasm hitting her like nothing had before.

He found her lips in the chaos beneath him, his hand parting her thighs as she went lax, lazily pumping in and out as she rode out her high. Her slick coated the inside of her thighs, and Mat pulled away momentarily and she whined, like the little brat she was allowing herself to be.

He only smirked, leaning down to kiss on her collarbone, letting his tongue sweep over the seemingly shimmering expanse of skin before him. He moved further down, savoring the taste of her, how it felt to be so close to her. No guards up, no shields, no screening involved.

She moved her ring clad hands to run fingers through his locks, that fucking smile coming across her face. He looked up from where his hands were holding either side of her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh just enough to not make it hurt, but to say “I’m here. I’m not leaving.” His chin rested above her bellybutton, and he felt suddenly seen, bashful almost. He continued his trail down in a half assed attempt to hide his face, her breath hitching when he made it to her mound.

Her breath barely returned to her as he skipped over where she thought he was headed, instead opting to take her right leg over his shoulder, moving down the expanse of it to her ankle. He brought his eyes to meet hers, and a tender hand ran up and down the distance of it. He kissed the inside of her ankle, making his way up to the skin where her thigh met her already aching sex.

He lightly nudged his nose against the area, before attaching his lips. He started sucking on the skin there, licking her clean. Satisfied, he moved to the other side, beginning his good work.

“Mat,” she broke her silence, her voice splintered and low, “don’t tease. Please.”

He raised his eyebrows, seemingly in jest.

“I think we’re a little far gone from teasing, eh?” He asked, and truthfully, one mind blowing orgasm later, they were.

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever hotshot.”

“New nickname?” He questioned. “I like it.” He huffed, returning to his place between her legs. “But I fucking love this pussy, baby.”

And with that, he dove in. He immediately groaned at what he had found. (Which, obviously, caused her to tug at that perfect head of hair, eliciting another groan.)

If possible, she had become even wetter with the mix of his spit and her nectarine juices. It dripped down his chin, and he wanted to stay there forever. He’d found solace there, he thought. No Maple Leafs, no Tito, no hatty that meant jackshit in the end.

Just her and her consummate being. Vibrant, saccharine. His.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent drawing her closer and closer to the edge, but somewhere between repeated chants of praises and whatnot, he’d slipped.

“Fucking love this cunt, fucking love you-“

He hadn’t realized what he said, and if he had, he didn’t seem to care. But his words alone were enough to rip an unassuming orgasm from her. She didn’t allow herself long enough to think about if he meant to say it or not, or even to ride out the aftershocks rolling through her nerves. She grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him away from her glistening cunt and up to where she connected their lips.

A small sound of surprise, not reluctance, escaped from where they were joined. Her hands came to cradle either side of his face, and Mat thinks that he might’ve cried from the tender action. He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to ask. Hey, it’d been a long day.

“You mean it?”

He realized what he had said, then, eyes wide and somehow his face even more flushed than before. He considered lying, like when Tito had asked who he was texting and he’d said a friend.

But where would that leave him, he wondered?

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I did.” He added after a beat of silence.

And in those few moments nothing had seemed scarier.

Not when he was 18, getting skipped over by teams in the draft, and that voice in the back of his head had told him that, somehow, everyone had collectively decided to skip Mathew Barzal. Not when he was 19 playing in his first game for the Isles, having to follow up Auston Matthews first NHL game where he had four goals. Four. Fuck.

No, all that was topped by this. By the same fear he’d had earlier when he’d been on the bus, or when he’d arrived at her apartment.

But all of that fear was dissolved in a second after her laugh sounded out in the small bedroom, her eyes crinkling at the edges. She pulled him down towards her, and the sound of her laughter pulled a radiant smile from the hockey player that he felt like hadn’t seen the light of day in a long time.

She rolled over on top of his chest, leaning forward and throwing her arms around his neck. His chain was glinting, now, in the light she had previously been bathed in, and it caught her eye as it rested against his milky complexion.

“You looooove me.” She regarded in a sing-song voice, and Mat rolled his eyes despite the smile growing on his face. She leaned down, and Mathew’s grip on her bare hips tightened, all too aware of the wet spot left on his stomach from her leaking sex.

She mirrored his previous movements down his chiseled body, a regular Adonis in his own right. She left open mouthed kisses, the wet patches from them adding to the thin sheen that covered his body. She made her way down to his boxers, the obvious tent making her stifle a laugh. He caught it though, of course, and rolled his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Laugh it up, babe. Laugh at my misery.” He commented, to which she only shook her head.

“Patience is a virtue, Mathew.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Well, he had a point there.

So rather than talk, she decided she’d put her mouth to good use. She pulled down his boxers at a painstakingly slow rate, watching as his cock slapped up against his stomach. Her mouth watered at the sight, the tip red and weeping, begging to be attended to. He kicked off the boxers, paying no mind to how they slipped onto the floor, forgotten. She didn’t either, as she was sure he had to have some extra in one of his gazillion bags sitting in her entry way.

Her nails scratched down his stomach, angry red lines puffing up and decorating around the expanse of his skin. They were accompanied by freckles and marks and scars that she could have mapped together with her eyes closed. She knew Mathew like the back of her hand. And with that, came knowing how to make him come undone in her hands.

She started leaving small kisses at the base of his shaft, before swiping the bead of precum from his head down to the rest of him. She pumped her hand a few times, and Mathew let out a strangled moan. She thought he couldn’t get any louder, feeling bad for her neighbors at whatever hour in the night it was, but she was quickly proven wrong.

She licked a long stripe from the bottom to his tip, before taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. She bobbed her head a few times, jacking off whatever she couldn’t fit with her hands. She hollowed her cheeks, and the rise and fall of Mathew’s chest quickened. The sound he let out was animalistic, and it sent another wave of arousal through her body. She moaned involuntarily, and the feeling caused Mathew to buck his hips.

“You’re doing so good, baby. ‘M not gonna last with you going at me- shit- like that.”

He brought a large hand down to the side of her face, lightly stroking her cheek. It was a moment of wholesomeness that reminded them what they were now, what he had said.

Mat could tell she was tired, her pace decreasing. The look in her eyes never changed, though. And as he went to speak to tell her it was okay, and she didn’t have to (and because since it had been so long, he was scared he’d bust his load if she wasn’t careful), she pulled off.

A string of saliva followed, and the sight looked like a thumbnail of a shitty porno. Her eyes were droopy and glazed over, and Mat’s hypothesis was proven correct.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to finish. Let me take care of you.” He repeated his sentiment from earlier. She only shook her head, continuing to jack him off with her hand. Oh. He thought. That’s not what I was expecting.

“S’okay, Matty. Wanna make you feel good.”

She ran her thumb over his tip again, her glassy and swollen bottom lip hanging ajar as she concentrated. The moans he was letting slip free could only be described as pathetic, the 190 pound hockey player putty in her hands.

“I’m gonna cum if you don’t, God, baby, shit! I-If you don’t stop.”

And then she pulled her hand off, and he let out a quick breath at the momentary relief, if that was even the right word. But it was short lived, and she managed to hoist herself up, dragging her folds along his cock, before stabilizing herself with hands on his chest. He slid inside of her, and the sounds they both let out echoed off her walls.

She started moving, and then it was “You’re fuckin’ amazing, you know that? So fuckin’ amazing. My girl, my perfect girl.” He rambled, the events of just that day alone scrambling his mind trying to keep up. Similarly to how she felt earlier, everything was just too much for the poor man. She felt like Heaven around him, and he watched in awe from below her as she moved, enamored by the woman he loves.

As she became more and more tired, her movement slowed, reduced to her grinding herself down on his cock. Mat was barely hanging on, trying to make it last as long as possible. He could tell she was close too, as she squeezed him like a vice, and put her energy into picking up her pace.

“Fuck, Matty. Feels s’good. Love you- shit! I love you so much, baby.” She told him, her eyes closed and her face screwed up as she chased her high. But something snapped in Mathew at her confession, and with a quick “fuck” under his breath, he flipped the two of them without ever leaving her.

He was relentless.

He slammed in and out, and at the sudden change in position and pace, she was blindsided. She thrashed around him, her hands everywhere at once. Her hair, his hair, grasping at his shoulders, scratching down his back. She settled for his biceps, as his hands were planted. One on the right side of her head, the other gripping her hip bone so hard, she was sure it’d bruise.

“It’s only ever been you, baby. I promise you.”

“Shit, Mat!” She cried, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She loosely draped her legs around his middle, allowing him to reach new depths within her. He was fucking her senseless, and they fucking loved it.

“It’ll only ever be you. I love you. Fuck, I love you so much, Y/n.” His hair hung in his eyes as he fought to keep them open. He shook it out of his eyes, wanting to see her as she came in all her glory.

“Love you, Mat. So much, baby. You have no idea.”

His pelvis snapped harder against her, just barely reaching up and grazing her clit in the most exquisite way. The rope in her stomach began to tighten for the third time that night, so close to breaking she could almost taste it.

Actually, she could taste it, she realized. She had been biting down so hard on her bottom lip she could taste the metallic tang on her tongue, and fuck, it was all the more delectable.

“Mat!” It was another exclamation, followed by more babbles. “‘S too much, Matty, can’t do it.” Her voice was small, and despite the nature of the statement, Mat felt his heart flutter.

He shook his head. “Yes, you can, baby. I know you’re tired, but you can do it, Y/n. You’ve got another one in you sweetheart, pull through for me. I’ve got you.”

And never one to disappoint, especially not her Mathew, she did.

She came, and she came hard. But it wasn’t dramatic the way you’d think it’d be, at least not outwardly. Her breathing stopped, her toes curled, and her nails dug into the skin on Barzy’s arms. It wasn’t accompanied by a loud scream, or a drawn out, high pitched moan. It was a breath of relief that left her when she came, her head falling to the side and her eyes closing. A quiet moan of Mat’s name, and she was clamping down on him.

The sweet way his name fell off her tongue, mixed with how she was so damn tight around him as she came, and he was done for. It triggered his own orgasm, and he felt the same feeling of peace wash over him that she had as he spilled into her. He fucked her through it, soft thrusts calming whatever aftershocks they both were experiencing. She had gone limp under him, her eyes opening as she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

He stayed in her, lowering himself onto his side, then maneuvering them so she was laying on him. They were a cliché and they knew it, but they couldn’t seem to care. A few moments passed in comfortable silence, before it was broken by Mathew’s scratchy post-sex voice. Swoon.

“So,” he started. She raised a brow, wondering where he was going with this.

“You looooove me, too, then?” He mimicked her tone from earlier, and they broke out in a fit of laughter as she slapped his arm and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re alright.” She feigned annoyance, propping herself up on her right arm as she faced the man she loved. Mat scoffed, blowing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Just alright? You’re crazy, lady.”

“But you love me.”

Not a beat passed before “I do.”

She smiled softly, lifting up a hand to run a finger along his jaw. He caught it with his own, never breaking eye contact as he kissed her palm. Again, swoon.

“I know.” She responded, wanting to stay in that moment forever. But, she knew that if she stayed where she was too long, she’d more than likely fall asleep in record time. So, she pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, which he turned to catch before she could go, pulling her back for a “real” kiss at his protest.

A petulant child, that’s what he is.

She pressed one more to his lips for good measure, before pulling himself off of him. They both let out disgruntled sounds at the sudden losses, and it took all her energy to sit up on the edge of her bed. She felt a strong jaw on her shoulder, and she leaned into it.

“Where you goin’? Leaving me all alone isn’t very nice.” She could hear the frown in his voice, and even though she knew he was joking, it tugged on her heartstrings that little bit.

“Gotta pee.” She said, standing up and walking towards the connecting bathroom. “Sorry baby, no UTIs for me.”

The frown stayed cemented on his face.

“You should be grateful,” she threw over her shoulder, shutting the door. “No UTIs, more fucking, yeah?”

He chuckled at her bluntness, deciding to go and get her some water and maybe a snack. Shit, he didn’t know. What was he supposed to do? Usually when they fucked before, her or Mat would be out the door as soon as possible, still trying to ward off those pesky feelings. But now, he was allowed to feel said pesky feelings, and he’d be damned if he fucked it up.

So, snack. And water? Yeah, water, for sure. He was hungry and thirsty, why wouldn’t she be. He had no idea the way around her kitchen, nor how to, er, actually make anything, so this would be rough. But, first, a pit stop.

He would have walked butt-ass naked into her kitchen, really, but then he remembered Warrior was out there and he didn’t have a need to traumatize that dog any further than he already was.

(It was one time, okay? He didn’t know she had a dog, he’d been asleep on his bed by the TV when they’d gotten to her place. And at the time, Mat was too preoccupied to notice.)

He looked around on the floor for the offending clothing item, slightly grossed out when he did finally find them. It was only for a minute, tops, is what he told himself, as he pulled on the boxers from earlier in the night.

He tiptoed, for literally no apparent reason, through the dark apartment until he found the bag he was looking for. He grabbed what he needed from it, struggling with the zipper while trying to close it, before giving up. On his way back to her room, he gave Warrior a nod and smile, and he swore the mutt gave one back. Okay, actually, on second thought, he remembered the clock on her microwave saying it was 3:18 AM, so, maybe he didn’t.

It was late and he just had the best sex of his life with the woman he loves. Give him a break. So what if he’s delusional and thinks he can communicate with dogs? At least he’s pretty.

When he gets to her room, he pulls on the newer, clean, pair of boxers, setting the other pair he grabbed from his bag on the bed for her when she got out of the bathroom, along with an Islanders shirt that he’d secretly always wanted to see her in. Too soon? Maybe. But after so long yearning for everything domestic and wholesome and good that he was convinced he didn’t deserve with her, he was indulging a little bit. So sue him.

His next stop, snacks. And water, can’t forget the water.

The water was easy enough, he got lucky. He grabbed her “emotional support cup” as she’d called it before when she thought he wasn’t listening, and went over to the fridge. He got a few ice cubes and put them in, and then went over to her Brita. He stood there, pressing down on the little lever, watching the steady stream of water into the cup. It was almost laughable, how he stood there in the dead silence, concentrating so hard. He was determined not to somehow do something wrong, even though it was just pouring a cup of water. Cute.

He checked the pantry once the cup was full, with the lid safely screwed on top. The rustling about caught the attention of Warrior, who hopped down from where he’d been on the couch, moseying on over.

Mat, who still was slightly wary of Warrior, despite the fact the dog would cause him no harm, shook his head at the mutt.

“Sorry, buddy. I don’t have anything for you.”

He turned his head and gave him puppy dog eyes, pulling out all the stops. Mat sighed, looking back to the pantry. He saw a box of Milkbones, and looked back to Warrior, who was egging him on. (They’re telepathically connected, remember?)

He reached in the box, pulling one out, and tossing it down. Warrior gratefully accepted, taking his treat and waltzing off to his bed to chow down. Mat looked in the pantry, going to close the box, when he sees it, his saving grace.

White bread, hallelujah.

He can do toast. Mathew Barzal is a totally capable 25 year old man who can make toast. So, he takes the bag, going over to the toaster. And-

One look at all those fancy buttons, and he’s tapped out.

Okay, it’s okay, he can remember seeing a vending machine on his way into her apartment. Yeah, he remembers her telling him about having to sign off on some HOA form for it, even though she was just renting. Apparently, her landlord hadn’t signed, which made it her job. Whatever, that’s irrelevant.

He figured that there wouldn’t be anybody out in her hallway at 3:23 AM, so he grabbed his coat with his wallet, shrugging it on over his bare back. His slides were somewhere in his hockey bag and the last thing he wanted to do was stink up her whole place by opening that Pandora’s box. So, barefoot it is.

He does his best to sneak out the apartment, leaving the door ajar as he makes the short walk to the vending machine, grateful his search was over. He let out a long sigh as he stood, wondering what to get her.

For himself he decided on a bag of cool ranch Doritos, and a bag of those tiny cookies. For her, he racked every corner of his brain for potential options, before realizing how long he’s taking, and how long he’d been gone. So, not wanting to waste any more time, he elected for one of everything.

He punched in the numbers and paid, attempting to grab them from the machine. Trying to pick up the few that had fallen, he leaned down. His attention was called elsewhere by the ”click!” of a door a few units down. His head snapped to the source of the sound.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” He muttered under his breath upon what he saw.

A man probably not much older than himself, suitcase and backpack in tow, donned in, you guessed it, a New York Islanders hoodie a lá number 13.

The man had yet to notice the star player down the hall from him, and Mat was considering just making a run for Y/n’s place. But either way, he would have to go past the man, or the man would have to go past Mat to get to the elevator. Maybe he’d take the stairs? He hoped. Shit, who was he kidding, he’s not taking the stairs.

Starting his walk over, the unnamed Islanders fan lifted his head, stopping in his tracks. His jaw dropped, and if it wasn’t purely because of being in the presence of Mat Barzal, he had a hunch what it was.

Said hunch, was that it was due to the fact Mat Barzal was standing in front of him, in an apartment complex definitely not boujee enough for him to be living in, at 3:25 in the morning, naked, except for boxers and some fancy trench coat, holding several bags of snacks.

Mat would’ve laughed at the guys face, but he thought he wasn’t quite in the position to do so.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” And a stupid bro nod, was all Mathew could manage.

-

While he was facing that debacle, Y/n was having one of her own.

After she’d gone to the bathroom, she decided to try to do her nighttime routine, too. She put on her robe from where it had been hanging in her bathroom, beginning her little routine.

When she emerged 10 minutes later, Mat was nowhere to be seen.

His bags were still by the door, albeit one of them hastily thrown open. Was he leaving and had gotten some clothes and an Uber? Did he have last minute regrets? The door to her place was left open, and an overwhelming sadness began to take over her system. As the tears began to well up, she looked over to Warrior, only to notice him chewing on… a milkbone? How the hell did he get a milkbone?

She sniffled, wiping her sleeve under her nose. She sat down on her couch, looking at where her iced coffee from earlier was still sitting, ¾ of the way empty. The tears started to flow freely again after that, and she stood up, deciding that she should at least shut the door. She didn’t need to deal with a robbery, too.

As she stood and turned, she was met with a very discombobulated and very underdressed Mat trying to shove his way through the door.

“Have a good flight, man. Enjoy Miami!” Mat called over his shoulder to what sounded like her neighbor Gian, based off of the “Thanks bro, good luck this season!” she heard back.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to not bust out laughing at the sight in front of her. Hearing her snickering, he looked up gesturing to the bags in his arms.

“Hungry?” He asked, the smile on his face falling when he saw the red around her eyes. He dropped all the snacks on the couch to his right, making his way over to where she stood.

“Hey, hey, why’re you crying? What’s wrong sweetheart?” He questioned, and his sincerity made her smile widely.

“Nah, I’m all good, don’t worry about it. Just thought you’d left, that’s all…” A pause. “But I see now that you just had a case of munchies, apparently.”

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her towards his chest. His chin rested on her head, and she closed her eyes, inhaling his scent.

“No, baby. God, no, I’m not leaving. I just wanted to do this whole thing right, and I thought you might be hungry, and I tried to make toast- your toaster is really complex by the way,”

She pulled away from him as he rambled, her smile reaching her eyes.

“And I filled your water and set out clothes for you and I really did try, baby. I didn’t mean to fuck anything up, really.”

She giggled again, taking hold of the shoulders of his jacket, shrugging it off. She folded it over the back of a barstool, then turned back towards Mat.

“And Gian?”

“Oh yeah, he’s cool. Ran into him in the hallway and introduced myself. Going to visit some family in Miami.”

She raised an eyebrow, nodding her head in understanding. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his middle.

“So, am I gonna have to compete with him for your attention now whenever you come over?”

He reciprocated the action, one hand coming up to rest on her chin.

“I mean, he’s gonna be gone for two weeks, but after that…” he shrugged, trailing off. She hummed, and he smiled at her, leaning forward. He searched her eyes for any remaining upset, unable to find any, before he pressed his lips to hers. It was sweet and gentle, with not a hint of rush or fervor.

When they pulled apart, she was smiling again. Her hands found their way back to his neck.

“And baby, you’re amazing. You didn’t fuck up anything at all, I promise.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” She whispered, leaning in again to connect their lips. She let her tongue sweep over his bottom lip, biting down just barely before pulling away. She pushed down the sleeves of her robe just a bit, exposing her shoulders. Y/n took his hand, and started walking backwards, letting it slowly slip out of hers as she did.

“Come on, hotshot. Come to bed. Snacks will still be there in the morning.”

She smiled again briefly, before walking towards her room, the robe slipping down as she went. Mat stood watching her in total awe, glued in place, until he was knocked out of his trance.

“Hurry up! And lock the door, too, please!”

He had never obliged to anything quicker in his life.

(And as for the snacks, they were not still there in the morning, thanks to a certain mutt who managed to rip open all the packets on the couch. The next morning was spent at the vet, who had told them Warrior would be fine, just fat. The vet had only said this, though, after Mat had consoled a crying Y/n, who was under the impression he was going to be poisoned.

The rest of the day after that? Making up for lost time.)

FIN.

YO idk if that was good or not i kind of feel like i imagined writing the entire thing and it was a fever dream. but. anyway! if you liked it, be sure to reblog <3 thank u i love u! go eat some protein and drink some water. 

xx, hj

[0sincerelyella]

Request: Hey can I request one where Joe burrow cheat on the reader and after some time he wants to be back with her

Drunk and Stupid - Joe Burrow

Summary: joe gets drunk, and stupid. losing his only and every thing

notes: this is going to be very cheesy and cliche but i love angst so let’s go

the ending is so trash i’m so sorry

an idiot. only an idiot would get black out drunk after a game when he has a wife to go home too. only an idiot would follow a girl, not his wife, up the stairs of this strangers house and into a bedroom

he couldn’t even walk up the stairs

he was dizzy

he was disoriented, sick, confused

she looked just like his wife

but she wasn’t his wife.

if was only a kiss, a kiss interrupted by shrimp he had hours ago. but he still kissed her

and her, wasn’t his, her.

the next day, he woke up in a haze. his head hurt, and his heart hurt even worse. his head rested in the lap of his wife, a cold rag in her hand dabbing against his forehead. “good morning” she said, her eyes had bags under them, dark circles, and they were swollen. her nose was red. he knew that look all too well

she was crying

he leaned up to kiss her lips but y/n turned her head. “no, i’m sorry” she sat his head on the pillow gently and stood to walk into the kitchen.

joe sat up, adjusting his eyes to the sight around him. the closet was open, and only joes stuff was left. junk was thrown all over the floor, glass shattered, wedding pictures torn. her suitcase was missing, her shoes, her clothes, all her belongings were just gone

he stood up, his head spinning in circles. he made his way to the kitchen where y/n stood, her head rested on the counter, she was sobbing uncontrollably. “y/n? honey what’s wrong” his hand landed on her should, she slapped it away.

“don’t touch me joe” she said, standing up and wiping her tears. “don’t touch me again” she stepped back, only then did joe notice the suitcases stacked by the door.

then he remembered last night. the night of his stupid, idiotic, drunken decisions. “y/n,” he reached out to grab her like if he didn’t she’d slip away. “no, joe. i’m not doing this” she stepped back

she was slipping away.

“you said in our vows that it was me and you against the world” she was crying more, and pushing him away more. “i guess it’s you, and her now isn’t it joe”

“i don’t even know her name” y/n shook her head. “that makes it worse”

she grabbed the wedding picture off the counter, pointing to it. “4 years of marriage, and you threw it all out the window for a girl at a party you don’t even know”

she slammed the picture down

“just yesterday morning you talked about us starting a family” joe was stunned

his head hurt too much to even think and his heart hurt to much to beg

“goodbye joe” she said, looking into his eyes, seeing her reflection in the color. in that face she married, and loved so much.

she walked out the door and out of her future forever.

—

y/n stepped out of her small cincinnati apartment, taking the elevator down to the first floor. the sun was bright and beautiful. she’d moved into this new apartment three years ago, nine months of living with her parents after her divorce.

she opened up her car door, and drove to her destination. she had taken these three years to focus on herself, sorta.

but she was very happy and health in her own skin compared to the moment she had gotten her heart crushed.

y/n parked her car, stepping out of it and walking towards the practice field. she took a deep breath, she figured it would only be her old friends, tee higgins, andrei iosivas, tyler boyd and jam’arr, considering it was a wide receiver camp for kids. but she was still scared.

as she walked onto the field, she was met with her sister, and her sisters son. “hi!” she grabbed her nephew into a tight hug. “hi auntie-“

“y/n?” y/n stood at the voice she knew all too well.

“joe” she said, taking a hitched breath. he smiled at her “how have you been? what are you doing here?”

y/n turned her head towards a small, three year old boy running towards her. “momma!” the boy called, hugging her leg. “hi jay jay” she said with a smile, “whose this?” joe asked, his face wore a surprised look

“my son, jeremy” she stated, picking the boy up in one swift motion. joe smiled again, this smile was sad. “where’s his dad?” joe asked, causing the boy to look at him with sad eyes

sad, blue eyes

“i don’t got one” he said, looking back at his mom

something in joes mind clicked then

“how old is he?”

y/n knew he knew at this point. she couldn’t hide it anymore. “i’m this many” he held up three fingers

“he’s mine isn’t he?”

y/n tried her hardest to hold back the tears as she nodded.

joe dropped everything in that moment to hug them.

he’s wanted nothing more than her back for the past three years, nothing more than his girl. and now he knows they have a child together

he can’t stay away for her sake now.

“joe, i want us to be a family i do” her eyes filled with tears just as the did almost four years ago

“i don’t think i can ever look at you the same again”

[theynlife]

#2: Drunk Nights

Summary: College!Y/n gets a little too wasted and gets an offer to stay with c/n for the night

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption, that’s about as bad as it gets

B/n - boy’s name

N/n - nickname

E/c - eye color

Of all the papers I had to write in the coming weeks, exams to study for, and packing to do before heading back home from college, I somehow found myself tonight crammed into a dorm room packed like a can of sardines, trying to soak up the last ounce of the semester.

F/n and I loved to sit together and share a drink occasionally, but tonight was special—we wanted to have a good time before parting ways for the next couple of months. What started as a small gathering of close friends on a Saturday night quickly spiraled into something much larger. Word got out, and soon friends of friends began pouring through the door. Before long, the room was out of seats, out of standing room, and buzzing with chatter and laughter.

Despite the spatial discomfort, I couldn’t help but smile when a few familiar faces from my English class—B/n/1, B/n/2, and c/n—managed to slip in just before the room hit capacity. I was mid-laugh when I felt a hand land gently on my shoulder.

“Hey, n/n, is it cool if I sit next to you?” c/n asked, his tone easy and warm.

I grinned, already several shots in and feeling a bit bubbly. “Absolutely! What’ve you been up to tonight, c/n?”

He settled on the floor near my chair, leaning in slightly. “We were just hanging out in my room but figured we’d check out the commotion. B/n/1 seemed especially eager to get here,” he added, gesturing toward the duo sitting shoulder to shoulder on F/n’s bed, grins plastered on their faces.

I let out a laugh, my gaze following his. “Well, he’ll be happy to know the feeling’s mutual. F/n’s been hoping he’d show up since people started piling in about an hour ago.”

C/n raised an eyebrow at me, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Is that so?”

Feigning shock, I placed a hand dramatically on my chest. “Would I lie about something like that?”

We both burst into laughter, barely able to catch our breaths before the room’s noise swept us back into the atmosphere.

As the night went on, c/n and I found ourselves grabbing drinks and keeping tabs on the budding connection between B/n/1 and F/n. They seemed more comfortable with each passing minute, but before long, I realized I was feeling the effects of the evening. My gaze had drifted to the outdated popcorn ceiling, and I caught myself staring at it for what must have been minutes before c/n waved a hand in front of my face.

“You in there, y/n?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

I blinked a few times, trying to snap back to reality. “Never better,” I slurred, forcing a grin to mask how far gone I really was.

He stood and extended a hand toward me. “Why don’t we get you back? It’s getting late, and I’m starting to think these lovebirds might just be here forever.” He nodded toward B/n/1 and F/n, now sitting with an arm around her shoulders.

I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet, only for the room to tilt and spin. My balance faltered, and I instinctively grabbed onto his shoulders to steady myself. He caught me easily, his grip firm but gentle.

Once I steadied, we made our way out of the room, but I barely managed two steps down the staircase before stumbling forward again. C/n’s arm wrapped around my torso, catching me before I fell. Without a word, he shifted my arm across his shoulders, supporting me as we descended the stairs.

“C/n?” I murmured, my voice weak.

“Yeah, y/n?”

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it back to my dorm.”

I kept my head down, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. He paused, scanning me carefully before speaking. “Do you need a place to crash? My roommate’s gone for the weekend—you’re welcome to stay in my room.”

My brows lifted at the offer. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”

He frowned slightly, his voice soft but firm. “Y/n, you’re never a bother to me.”

Slowly, he guided me down the final flight of stairs and into his dorm. I noticed the neatly arranged door decorations as he opened the door and led me inside, sitting me gently on his bed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, rummaging through his desk.

I gave a faint smile. “Right now? Great. Tomorrow morning? Probably not so much.”

He chuckled at my response, pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen and filling a glass of water. Handing them to me, he said, “Here—this might help a little.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, touched by the small gesture. While I might have thought to drink some water on my own, the ibuprofen was a stroke of genius. As I sipped the water, he grabbed his own bottle and sat down across from me.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the noise of the party far behind us.

“You don’t have to stay here with me,” I said softly. “If you want to go back to the party, I’d understand.”

He shook his head. “I’d rather be here with you.”

I turned to meet his gaze, my heart skipping at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, I was speechless, the weight of his words hanging between us.

Before I could respond, he stood and began tidying up. He set up a blanket on the futon, flattening it out.

“What are you doing?” I asked, confused.

“You can take the bed,” he said simply. “I’ll sleep here.”

As he reached to turn off the lamp, I caught his wrist, stopping him.

“You don’t have to stay on the futon.”

“I’m not making you sleep there.”

“I know.” My voice dropped to a whisper.

His gaze darkened, studying me for a long moment before he nodded and slid under the covers beside me. We lay face-to-face, the room dim and quiet.

“What’s holding you back?” I asked softly.

He hesitated, his voice barely audible. “I want you so badly, but I don’t want to violate your trust. You’re drunk, and I—”

Before he could finish, I closed the gap between us, pressing my lips to his. His initial shock melted away as he brought a hand to my jaw, his touch gentle but firm. Our movements were slow, deliberate, and full of unspoken emotion. When I pulled back, I searched his face, my voice barely above a whisper.

“We don’t need to do anything. I just want you here with me.”

[sinsandsuccubus]

Batter Up - Urban Wyatt

Context: There’s something about Urban in short shorts that does something to you….

Genre: smut

Word Count: 1.3k+

Pairings: Urban Wyatt x GF!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+! Sexual activity.

a/n: yall…. YALL. I just got in from a party as I’m writing this and I go on insta to find Urban playing kickball? In short shorts? Almost getting a grand slam? Now I need to take another shower. And so will you.

Also, sorry for any typos. I did read this over, but ya know, I'm kind of hornknee from Urban

-

Please DO NOT ENGAGE if not older stated age. Reader’s discretion is advised. I am not responsible if YOU CHOOSE to continue.

-

Masterlist ☽☾

It was the annual Homies Kickball Tournament, which was not only a way of gathering those local in Louisville, but to raise charity. When Urban asked you to participate, you were hesitant, wondering what people would think about Urban’s girl on the team. Yet, none of your friends were worried about it, and honestly, you were past giving a fuck about other people’s opinions on your relationship with Urban. The trick that tipped it over though, was Urban’s uniform.

The shorts he wore?

You wanted to pull his pants down right there and-

Yeah.

You were currently out on the field, getting yourself ready for the round, as you were up next to kick after Urban. Jack had gone, the bases becoming loaded, as it was now Urban’s turn, you giving Urban a firm pat on the ass. He yelped and jumped in response, rubbing his ass from the slap.

“You got this babe!” You cheered on, smiling at your boyfriend.

You watched as the ball rolled towards him, and Urban took careful steps, punting the ball far across the field.

Well fuck. That was hot.

You stood in shock as the players ran across the base, Jack being the last to hit the home plate. That left Urban out on the field, particularly on second base. You looked at him in the distance, hand over your eyes to shield yourself from the sun.

“You got this! Bring me home!” You heard him shout, seeing the thumbs up you gave him.

Oh, you were about to bring him home alright.

As the ball rolled towards you, you being last to kick before halftime, you concentrated, thinking about nothing else but both you and Urban reaching home plate so you could give him sloppy toppy in the bathroom.

You mean, his present for being such a good sport.

You kicked the ball, hard, sending the ball flying across the field, far enough out to where you and Urban could both make it home safely.

You took off running, clearing the bases as you went, before heading for home plate. However, you noticed the ball being thrown to the third basemen, and him making the move to come after you. You picked up your speed, turning your head slightly to see the ball being thrown at your back. You quickly spun out of its direction, it flying past the person at home base, the crowd cheering you on. You ran across the base, Urban there to scoop you up as the team jumped for joy.

“That’s my girl!” Urban said as he put you down, to which you pulled him down by the collar of his shirt down for a kiss, the crowd “awwing” at the two of you.

“Gross guys, get a room!” You heard Jack yell, not paying him any attention as you moved your mouth to Urban’s ear.

“Meet me in the bathroom.” You quickly jogged off, scooping up an empty Gatorade water bottle off the floor, running back inside the stadium to make it appear you were going to fill it up before the next two rounds.

Yeah, you were. Totally.

Urban quickly found you in the bathroom, to which you pulled him close, kissing him immediately and locking the door behind you, his lips soft on yours.

“Mm, baby. Baby. Babe. Slow down, what’s this all about?” He spoke, pulling away from you.

“You! Being hot, in those sexy ass shorts, kicking that ball all sexy. It just made me… fuck- really fucking horny.” You spoke rushed, Urban quickly washing his hands before you guiding him to the bottom of your shorts, pushing them and your panties aside to reveal your drenched pussy.

“Damn baby, you’re really this turned on?”

“Urban… you have no clue what you do to me.” You spoke softly, looking up at him with lustful eyes.

“Well, I’ll have you know,” He paused, bringing your hands towards his shorts, his dick pressing hard into your palms.

“That I’m so fucking hard for you right now. Seeing you run across those bases to home plate, your tits bouncing, perfect ass,” he grabbed your ass and pulled you close, bringing one of your legs to rest on his hip. “This fucking ass. God Y/N, that shit was so hot.”

“Well, it seems that we both have a problem, don’t we?”

“Yup. We should probably solve this problem before the game starts up again, right?” Urban asked, raising an eyebrow and stroking his chin.

“Absolutely. I’ll start.” You quickly washed and dried your hands before pulling Urban’s shorts down, his hard dick springing free, precum leaking from the tip. You licked the droplets up onto your tongue, sighing at the taste.

“Y/N, don’t tease me like that.”

“Sorry babe. Let me make this quick, we do have a game to finish.” You swiftly took Urban down your throat, him moaning loud as you took him to the base of his cock, moaning to send vibrations up his shaft.

“Fuck Y/N, goddamn.”

You kept going, jerking him off while sucking him at the same time, the hand job becoming sloppy. Then, you took his dick all the way down your throat again, flexing your tongue so that it curved to his dick, making a suction almost. You played with his balls, massaging them with the saliva that had trailed down from your blowjob.

“Fuck baby, your mouth feels so good.”

You kept going, determined to make Urban cum down your throat. You wanted it so so badly.

However, that was cut short when he pulled you up by your throat, bending you over the counter of the bathroom sink.

“I need to fuck you right now.” Urban pulled your shorts and panties down swiftly, eyeing your wet pussy.

“Spread it for me.” He spoke, spitting on his hand as he jerked himself off, though he was pretty wet enough. You spread your lips, hearing a “fuck” from Urban.

Before you knew it, he had thrust inside you, working at a fast pace from the start.

“Ohmygod. Ohmygod, fuck, Urban please.” You moaned, folding your body over the cool countertop, the coldness feeling good against your torso.

Urban jerked your head up by your throat, moving his one hand to remain on your neck while the other smacked your ass, shortly thereafter moving to your hip. He pounded you into the counter, you not taking notice of how good he was making you feel.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you, you understand?” He squeezed your throat, you letting out a choked gasp, nodding at him while you looked at him in the mirror. He slapped your ass, making you moan some more.

“Use your words.”

“Yes Urban, ohmygod, yes, I’ll keep looking. God, yes.” You managed to get out, moaning and stumbling on your words. The hand from your throat moved to your clit, Urban rubbing light but firm circles on the sensitive bud.

“Fuck, Urban, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Cum for me. Cum for me Y/N, cum on this dick.”

You yelped, coming down hard on Urban, your whole body shaking with satisfaction. However, Urban kept at it, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, baby, Y/N, shit. Where do you want it? Tell me now before I cum.”

“In my mouth please, fuck. In my mouth.” You spazzed around him again, him quickly pulling out of you as you dropped to your knees, shaking from your second orgasm as he shot his load into your mouth. You licked up anything that didn’t make it, cleaning your lips of the rest of his cum.

“Fuck Y/N, that was so hot.”

“You’re fucking hot babe.” You spoke, him helping you get up from the floor steadily, your body still shaking. You both fixed yourselves before you heard a knock on the door.

“Come on now y’all! I gotta fucking piss and y’all in there fuckin. I hope you cleaned up after yourselves, Jesus.”

[cowboyobject]

Hey Mark, quick question - what the fuck are you trying to do to Fernando here? What are you trying to grab there buddy? What does this achieve for you Mark???

[gdsgrief]

im 20 steps removed from the st fandom these days but the hellcheer debacle has me actually floored. i’m so glad ur loser bf is nice to you but perhaps don’t call over half the community YOU cultivated perverts for participating in fandom spaces ???

[thought--bubble]

Surprise Sweetheart

Will (Salad Days) X Reader (Scream AU)

Word Count: 3,140

This is my submission for @fandomeventcenter 's FanFrankentober Event.

Thank you for reading my rough draft @schniiipsel and @anjelicawrites

Beautiful Header by @vhagar-balerion-meraxes

Will (Salad Days) Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Dividers and Banners by @arcielee

Warnings: Violence, Death, Threats, Fear, Smut (P in V unprotected), Emo Angsty Boy Activities

The night was heavy with an unsettling mix of fear and festivity. While you were typically a big fan of the Halloween season, even you felt that having this party, after what had just happened mere weeks ago, was macabre.

Tom's house was filled with the smell of beer and the sound of drunk people laughing and yelling, but Leah couldn't join in on the revelry.

Just a week ago, she had been with Matt, planning this very party when they received a call that would forever change her life.

“What's your favorite scary movie?” A question that seemed innocuous but was the catalyst that set her world hurtling into chaos.

Both you and Leah had tried to convince Tom and Will that the party should be canceled out of respect for Matt, who had recently been eviscerated by the Ghostface killer while Leah helplessly watched from her sliding glass doors.

Yet they both claimed it would be more disrespectful to Matt if they were to cancel the party, citing how much it meant to him and how “This is what he would have wanted.”

Thus, you both acquiesced, and with that reasoning, neither of you felt that you could skip the party without it being seen as disrespectful to Matt's memory.

When you entered the house, pushing through those you recognized from your area, Leah stood in the corner of the living room, her eyes glossed over as she watched their friends dance and drink. You noticed her disassociated demeanor and walked over to her, quickly wrapping your arm around her shoulder.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice softer than usual. You wanted to handle her as if she were made of glass because you were terrified she could shatter at any moment.

Leah forced a smile. “I’m trying. It’s just... everything feels so different without him. He should be here.” Her eyes flitted around the room, passing over each party guest before she softly repeated, “He should be here.”

You nodded, trying to be understanding of her grief. “Let’s get some fresh air, yeah? We can have a chat.”

The two of you stepped outside; the cool October air chilled your skin, freeing you to breathe after the stifling feeling of being inside. You could still hear the music and voices carry through the air. It sounded and smelled just like every other party, yet felt so different.

“I miss him so much,” Leah whispered, her eyes beginning to water as she valiantly attempted to blink the tears away. You pulled her into a comforting hug, wishing you knew how to help her, yet having no idea how. What does one do to help someone who watched their boyfriend die in such a gruesome way?

Eventually, you got her inside and sitting next to you on the sofa. It was actually nice as you sat in the living room with friends telling stories about Matt and all the wonderful and silly memories people had of him.

Tom and Will talked the most; it didn't surprise you. The three of them were as close as three friends could be, always taking off into the night together and somehow coming back with money, jewelry, and electronics. You learned quickly not to ask where it came from when Will randomly gifted you an MP3 player filled with classical music.

Leah listened for as long as she could, her heart breaking with every story and memory. So when Tom got up and said they were out of beer, Leah jumped at the opportunity to get some air.

“I'll get it!” she said quickly, jumping up from her place beside you. “It's just in the garage, yeah?”

“Yeah, just in the fridge,” Tom gestured toward the garage door.

“Well, while she does that, I’m gonna pop to the toilet,” Will stood and stretched, the blonde curls from below his gray joggers slightly peeking out.

Your cheeks heated up, and you looked away, hoping beyond hope that Tom didn't catch you staring. Yet as soon as Will walked off, Tom called you out.

“Get a good view, did ya?” he teased. “Only a sliver of stomach, and you're tripping over yourself!”

“Shut it, Tom!” You whacked his chest and laughed. “It was… slightly distracting.”

You chatted and laughed with Tom for quite some time before realizing that Leah hadn't returned.

“She's taking ages, isn't she?” You turned around on the sofa, looking toward the garage door.

“Uhh… yeah… I'll go see if she's alright. I'll be right back.” He jumps up off the sofa and heads toward the door.

“Don't say that! Remember Matt's rule!” You chuckled, recalling Matt's rules for surviving a scary movie.

Tom put his hands up, wiggling his fingers and trying his best to make eerie ghost moans. “I'll be right back!”

You chuckle to yourself as the garage door closes behind him. Tom's a goofball and if Leah is in there crying, you know he will be able to provide her at least some sort of comfort.

Yet, as the party begins to clear out the sky outside growing dark you once again turn toward the closed garage door.

“What is taking them so long?” You think out loud. Then you heard a thump upstairs and felt relieved. That must be Leah. She probably went off to cry by herself or just get away from the overwhelming atmosphere.

Annoyed, that Tom couldn't have been bothered to come and tell you Leah wasn't in the garage, you slowly walked upstairs and peeked your head around the bannister once you reached the landing. “Leah?” you whispered.

“Nah, just me, love,” Will walked over to you. “What are you sneaking around for?”

Your cheeks flushed again, as they always did when Will spoke to you. “I'm looking for Leah. I think she's wandered off somewhere to cry or something. Tom was supposed to find her but hasn't come back yet.”

“Trusting Tom when he's off his face?” Will chuckles “We are gonna have to find her then.” Will's hand slipped into yours as he led you down the dark hallway.

You followed him with a goofy grin on your face. You knew you should be worrying about Leah and her current emotional state, but with Will's hand in yours, you couldn't help but lose focus. Leah would understand; she's your best friend, after all.

Will pulled you into a bedroom and flicked on the light. “Not in here…” he said softly, closing the door behind him with a deafening click.

With your heart racing, you turned and looked at Will. “This is Tom's room, isn't it?”

“Aye, that it is.” He nodded slowly, his eyes raking over you as he takes a slow step forward.

You quickly turned your back to him, attempting to distract yourself by looking at the things Tom had on his shelves: a few dusty books, a silver chain, a mug that should be brought to the kitchen.

Will slowly walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist before resting his chin on your shoulder. “Are you aware I'm a bit mental over you?” His warm breath skated across the sensitive skin of your neck, and your chest constricted.

It took you nearly a full minute before you could respond.

“M-me?”

“No, the other bird in this room,” he chuckled lightly into your ear. “Yes, you.”

He turned you around in his arms, brushing his nose up the side of your face. “So pretty, so sweet.”

You preened at his praise, so caught up in the moment that you forgot what you even came up here for.

Will kissed along your jaw, cupping the back of your head in his large hand.

“Been wanting this for a long time.” He mumbled against the skin of your neck as he walked you back toward Tom's bed, and you let him, melting like putty in his hands.

When your legs hit the bed, he gently pushed you down, lifting your thighs around his hips.

“Tom… this is his bed…” you protested weakly as Will continued to pepper kisses along the side of your neck.

“Tom's a mate; he won't mind.” He slid his hand up the bare skin of your thigh and under your skirt. “Trust me, he won't care.”

You lay back, succumbing to his charm. He smirked, knowing he had you right where he wanted you.

“So fucking pretty,” he grunted, pressing his clothed cock against your core. “Tell me you want it. Tell me you want me,” he demanded, sliding his hand up between your thighs.

“I want it… I want you,” you whimpered pathetically.

“They always act like they do,” he smirked, bringing his mouth back to the crook of your neck.

Your brows crumpled in confusion, but before you could say anything, he thrust two fingers into your hot core.

“Ahh oh fuck, Will!” You panted as he started to thrust his fingers in and out, biting and sucking on your neck.

“You like that, sweetheart? Feel good?”

You whimper and manage to get out a weak “Yes” Your head fell back against the bed as he continued with his hand, bringing his thumb to your clit and rubbing circles on the swollen nub.

“Let's get these off, yeah?” He pulled his fingers out of you and slid your thong down your legs, tossing it out of sight.

“Hey!” You reached after it, and he grabbed your wrists, placing them above your head. His long, thin fingers wrapped around your two wrists with ease, locking you in place.

“We'll find them after. Right now… I'm gonna take what I've been after.” He nipped at your earlobe before reaching down with his free hand to hastily shove down his gray joggers.

You didn't even get a chance to see his manhood in all of its glory before he was sweeping the leaking head through your wet folds.

“We need a con—ahh oh fuck!” Your call for protection was quickly cut off as Will thrust into you to the hilt.

“What was that, love?” He panted above you, his silver chain dangling just over your chin. “I didn't hear you.”

As soon as you went to speak, he thrust into you harshly again. “Speak louder, love. Or… I'll have to make you louder.”

“Ah ah ah fuck, Will!” Your head fell back, and your eyes closed as he increased his pace, the headboard of Tom's bed rhythmically smacking the wall.

“Louder,” he growled, his tempo continuing to increase. Your skin grew hot all over your body, a pressure building between your legs unlike anything you had experienced before.

“Come on, love, give it to me.” He bit into the cove between your neck and shoulder. “Be mine.” He reached between your bodies, searching for your nub, the magic button he could use to send you soaring. He made quick work of rubbing you in harsh circles.

“Say it again” he growled directly into your ear. “Say you want me, you would choose me”

Your brain has turned to mush but you tried your best to get the words out. “I want you! Fuuckkkk oh god!” Your back arches as pleasure shoots through your body. Crackling like an electric snap through every limb, vein, every inch of skin heated and charged with and overwhelming pleasure.

“YOU WOULD CHOOSE ME! SAY IT!” he yelled and gripped your thighs pushing them forward changing his angle.

With a hint of desperation you whimper “I would choose you! Everytime! Oh god yes every fucking time!” Your legs clamp around him involuntarily and you dig your fingernails into his shoulders.

It's hot, It's explosive, it's electric and god damn it's good.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as Will gripped your hips harshly, battering your insides, his narrow-minded focus on reaching his end taking over.

“Fuck, pet, you look so pretty when you cum,” he gasped out between hard thrusts.

“You have to pull out,” you whimpered as his eyes rolled back and he dug his fingernails into the fat of your hips.

He pulled out at the very last second, his warm seed splashing onto your lower belly.

“Fucking brilliant,” he panted above you, his hips still jerking slightly. “Wait here; I'll get you cleaned up.” He kissed your forehead and pulled his sweatpants and boxers back up.

You lay on Tom's bed looking up at the ceiling, panting, willing the harsh thrumming in your chest to slow.

He returned with a warm, wet handcloth, gently wiping away the aftermath of your encounter from your skin.

He helped you redress, his hands moving slowly and gingerly as he lifted each scrap of material back over your skin.

The soft gentleness of his touch now, was in stark contrast with the rough grip he had handled you with before.

Just as you went to wrap your arms around him and revel in your newfound closeness, there was a knock on the bedroom door. You rolled your eyes and let out a huff. Of course Tom would come to his room now.

“Go away, Tom,” Will stated curtly, with a small smile curling at the side of his mouth. He pressed his forehead to yours and moved in for a kiss before the knocking resumed at the door.

Will growled under his breath. “Hold that thought, darlin.” He disentangled himself from you and went to the door, whipping it open quickly. “WHA—” his word was cut short when he saw Ghostface in the doorway.

“Run, sweetheart!” Ghostface drove his knife down into Will's chest. The scene was too horrific for you to comprehend.

You brought your hand to your mouth and gasped. This can't be happening.

As Will fell to the floor, Ghostface ascended upon you, and your fight-or-flight response kicked in. As he rushed you, you turned, grabbed the empty mug on the shelf behind you, and smashed it on his head before jumping over the bed.

You cringed as you jumped over Will's motionless body and flung yourself into the hallway.

“HELP!!! SOMEONE HELP!” you screamed through the hallway as you flew down the stairs to find the front door blocked by the wooden TV stand from the living room.

Your eyes quickly landed on the garage door, and you rushed towards it. You could hardly get the door open fast enough before sprinting inside, only to come to a screeching halt.

There before you, crushed under the refrigerator, was blonde hair and copious amounts of blood.

“Leah?” Your voice cracked in agony as you took a tentative step toward the gruesome scene. “Leah, please get up… please… PLEASE!”

Your heart nearly stopped as the garage door started to slowly lift, the clanking of the aluminum material feeling like a fatal chime.

As soon as you saw boots with a slight covering of flimsy black material across the front, you bolted back inside.

The hair stood on the back of your neck as you tried to think of a way to escape. You couldn't go through the blocked front door or the garage. The only option left would be the back door through the kitchen.

You scurried down the hallway with such speed that your feet hardly touched the ground.

As soon as you reached the kitchen, you screamed—a high-pitched, blood-curdling scream—when you felt Ghostface’s cold, clammy hand wrap around your arm.

“GET OFF!!!!” you screamed in sheer terror. You had to get away. Ghostface turned you around to face him, and you were staring directly into that mask. That horrid mask.

“Who… who are you?” You didn't bother trying to hide the trembling in your voice, basically succumbing to the idea that you were going to die right here, right now.

When he pulled his mask off, your jaw dropped to the floor. Tom was staring back at you, a smile on his face. He was smiling. How was he smiling?

“You?” You stopped fighting, suddenly overcome with confusion. “But why? Matt… Matt was your friend! Will was your friend!”

“He needed me to,” the eerie response chilled you to the bone.

“Who?” Your voice came out as a broken whisper.

Tom's face changed from one of deep thought to one of deep rage as he lifted the knife over your chest. “He needed me to be a fucking man! I let him down before, but I won't this time!” He plunged the knife down toward you, and you pushed away with all your might.

As you broke free, the knife swung past you, with a movement so strong you could hear it cutting through the air, you turned to run again, towards the back door, but instead ran directly into a hard chest.

You looked up to see Will looking down at you, a soft look on his face.

“Hey” His voice is soft and he strokes your hair gently. Its completely out of place for this moment.

“Oh thank god! Will! It's Tom! Tom's the killer!” The words tumbled out of your mouth as relief flooded your veins. Surely, Will was going to keep you safe after all you shared earlier.

You felt the sticky wetness of his shirt and looked at your fingers. The blood. There was so much blood.

“How… how are you… how are you standing right now?” You looked up at him, your bodies still pressed tightly together.

Will looked right back down at you, but instead of that cute crooked smile you're used to, there was a smile that set your nerves on edge. There is no love of care in this smile. Just pure mania. You felt his hand slide up the side of your body as he brought a white plastic box to his mouth.

“Surprise, sweetheart.” His voice came out garbled and distorted, and your heart sank down to the bottom of your stomach.

“No… no… this can't… no…” Your voice cracked as your world seemed to cave in around you from all directions.

“But why?” Hot tears streamed down your face as you looked up at him. “Leah? Matt? How… how could you!” You smacked and punched at his chest in frustration.

“Leah chose him over me. Rejected me like it was nothing, like they all do, LIKE EVERYONE DOES!” His voice boomed throughout the room, a sound so foreign.

At a loss for words, you simply stared up at him.

He gripped your chin and tugged your head towards him. “Like you would have done.” He rubbed his thumb over your pouty bottom lip.

“I wouldn't… Will, I swear I wouldn't.” You brought your hands up and held onto his biceps, willing him to believe you. “Please.”

Will chuckled and let go of your chin before reaching into his back pocket and raising his knife above you.

“I know, love. You'll never get the chance.”

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[madamadragon]

Famous singers duo named Lotus Boys

with their non-celebrity baby boy bf attending their concert

(A Mysterious Lotus Casebook modern celebrty au)

[writingbyshiloh]

Does anyone have any Halloween requests… I don’t feel in the spooky mood but hopefully writing something will help!

I’m still working on other requests I just want something fun and seasonal

(Jordan, Red, or MVDG (vamp or not) only pls)