#but its already done so here ya go

[the-palelady]

You were a nurse at what could barely be called a clinic, simply a little office inside the just as meager town hall. However, you still took your job seriously, tending to your patient’s one by one, never allowing any of them to step outside of the clinic until they were glowing like the afternoon sun sitting high in the sky when it was right at its peak.

You didn’t hear the trudge of his boots, and the jingle of his spurs when he first stepped inside your corner of the building. Your focus was settled on the woman before you, one palm resting idly on her swollen belly whilst you went about the regular check of her vitals.

“How are you doing besides all this?” you asked her with a smile, grabbing your notes, and tapping them on the table beside you.

“Everythin s’alright. Just can’t wait for this little stinker to hurry on out.” You and the young woman giggle together at her statement, your hand pressing against the hand sitting on her belly.

“Any day now and they’ll be with us. Just take it easy, and leave the heavy lifting to that husband of yours, hm?” Joining hands, you help her stand while she lets out another laugh. The two of you exchange a few more words before she bids you goodbye.

The office was now silent save for the tap of your pen meeting paper as you wrapped up the rest of your notes, and your hushed murmuring.

But when you turned to face the rest of the office, the dark figure sitting on a chair in the corner of the room hardly registers to you.

First you do a double take, then you squeal. The book that housed your notes clambers to the floor, bouncing once and then lying open on the wood floors.

"How...How long have you-"

"Not long, ma'am."

Ghost he called himself. Fitting since that is how he showed up in town; metastasizing from nothing, joining the daily squabble of the little town you called home as if he had lived there his entire life.

Now here he sat in your office, handkerchief wrapped around the palm of his hand, the tanned fabric fading into a dark shade of red.

You barely paid any mind to his words, your brain solely fixating on the wound that he had lazily wrapped. Your feet moved with a mind of their own, leading you to the sterile needles and thread that sat on the doctor's surgical tray.

Blood was no stranger to you. This was the west. People came and went with wounds of different calibers every week, so a simple gash to the palm of someone's hand was nothing.

You go into autopilot, paying no mind to the curious look Ghost gives you when you pull up a chair in front of him, grabbing his wrist with a delicacy you gave all of your patient's bleeding or not.

The wound itself was still bleeding, however not as much as it clearly had been before. It was a nasty, deep cut that made even you wince at the sight.

"I'm going to clean this up as best as I can. Just be still. It might sting a bit." You peeked up from under your lashes, not expecting him to already be staring at you, his dark gaze forcing your skin to heat up a few degrees.

"Do what ya need to do, doc."

A breathy laugh left you, "Hardly a doctor. I'm just a nurse. The doctor's out doing house calls at the moment."

He hums in response, and observes you silently while you go about tending to the gash. You've done this long enough that it doesn't take much time for you to get the wound cleaned up and sutured, wrapping gauze around the width of his hand.

"Work just s'well as a doctor. Maybe faster."

His words pull you from your haze, a deep rumble that has your grip on his warm hand loosening.

"O-Oh...I've just done this a lot." You bite the inside of your cheek at the sound of your stuttering.

The silence that follows isn't uncomfortable, but it's unwelcome. You can hear the blood flowing in your ears, your brain working overtime to get you to speak up. Your painfully aware of his hand that is still resting in the palm of yours.

"Thanks for the patch up," Ghost stands, and that's when the words finally find you.

"No need to thank me," your movements match his, coming to your full height, "just make sure to keep it cleaned. Try to avoid doing anything that'll open the sutures. If it does open and starts bleeding again cover it with these."

You press some gauze into the unwounded hand, and he gives you a simple nod.

Taking a step back your able to fully see him, his amber colored eyes that were once so easy to see now hidden by the shadow of the hat that rested on top of his head. The rest of his face was obscured by a black bandana, the fabric dirtied from a long day of work.

"Well then," you start, "if you need anything else feel free to come back in. I'm sure the doctor would be more than happy to help you."

He considers your words for a moment, arms crossing over his chest as he looks down at you.

"And what if it's not the doctor I want help from?"

[a-b-riddle]

Part Six

Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.

None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.

You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.

The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.

By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.

A colleague. You had a colleague!!!

The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.

It was one of them.

You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.

Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.

A vision.

You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.

"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"

"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"

"Listen," "Bon-"

"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."

"If you just let me make it-"

"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."

"Just give me a chance."

"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”

So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."

"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.

"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”

“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.

There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.

“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”

You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.

Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.

"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.

But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.

No.

If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.

No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.

"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."

"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.

He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.

"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.

His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.

There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.

He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.

He doesn't throw you on the bed.

Not this time.

He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.

But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.

"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.

He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.

"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.

"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.

In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."

You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.

He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.

Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.

With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.

It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.

The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"

"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.

His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.

His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.

"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.

"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.

It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.

You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.

The end.

He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."

You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.

"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.

He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.

"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.

He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.

You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.

You needed it to stop.

You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.

I could die like this, Lass.

Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.

He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.

You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.

You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.

You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.

Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.

"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.

"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."

You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.

"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.

You weren't too far behind.

He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.

But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.

"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."

He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.

in out in out in out.

Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.

His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.

His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.

"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."

He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.

"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."

You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.

Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.

"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.

The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.

Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.

"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."

"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."

"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."

"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"

"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."

"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."

"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.

"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."

"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"

No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.

But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.

You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.

So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.

"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.

"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.

You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.

You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.

Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.

"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"

You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.

Three minutes.

Three minutes.

"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."

You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.

You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.

You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.

"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.

"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."

"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.

[goldeunoias]

Favorite Student.

WARNINGS: YES THIS IS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT FUCKING IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT DON'T READ IT. both of yall are adults i think like 22 and 28 or something like that so it's not like the worst of the worst but yes. there are power dynamics blah blah, sunghoon is massive pervert, ITS ALL FICTION YALL

um includes....perverted sunghoon, eating out, teasing, pet names, sex in an office, fingering, it's me so ya know

Synopsis: A class you'd hated, but a professor you'd always admired...

A/N: DAISY BACKKKKK

SUNGHOON STANS ARE THE BESTTTTT at writing and giving me anons and feedback and comments and reblogs which is why I will always spoil them bc they treat me the best <333. next fic is a heeseung one sooo if you want more heeseung content make sure to give that one as much love too when it comes out!

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He was the meanest professor around, bar none.

But in your current predicament, he was the only professor left for the class you needed to take, unless you wanted to wait and thus delay your graduation by a whole semester.

That's how you found yourself standing outside his office, swinging back and forth on your heels, trying to get the courage to go in and ask him for help on the chapter that seemed like no one in your class was getting, you included.

"What are you doing standing outside my office?"

At the sound of his voice you jumped and turned around, heart racing in your ears as you tried to give him some eye contact; ultimately failing miserably.

"U-Um, I needed help with chapter 14 in the textbook and no one in my section really got it either so I figured I'd stop by-"

"Did you look at the lecture notes?"

"Y-yes sir."

"The supplemental videos?"

You nodded again.

Dr. Park sighed and moved past you to unlock his office door, letting the door swing shut past you as you walked in. The vibes of his room was austere to say the least and you couldn't tell if anyone had ever sat in the chair across from him given how spotless and un-creased it was.

Well, first time for everything.

"So what are you needing help with? Do you have any notes or something?"

"U-uh yes sir, give me a sec," you stuttered out as you fidgeted with your bag to pull out your laptop, showing him all that you had done.

He leaned on his side of the thick oak desk so he could get a closer look at what you had done, the closer proximity causing cologne you could only surmise to be expensive filling your nose. You fidgeted in your seat and moved some to lower your skirt as it rode up, trying to think of something to fill the awkward silence as he scrolled through what you had done.

Luckily, he beat you to it.

"Well, it's not the worst thing I've seen." He sighed, taking off his glasses and pointing to your screen. "You still aren't understanding the basic concepts of this chapter yet and it's reflecting in your notes. You see this summary outline you wrote here is-"

Your eyes absentmindedly drifted to his alabaster forearms that were shown from the rolled up sleeves of his button up, thick large hands scrolling on your keyboard. His jaw and nose were sharp too and from the closeness you could make out his dark lashes, usually hidden by the thick framed glasses he wore.....

You were jolted out of your thoughts when he snapped his fingers in front of your face, eyebrows knitted in annoyance at you wasting his time by daydreaming.

"If you're going to come to my office I would think you'd listen to what I have to say," Sunghoon said through a clucked tongue.

You looked down and immediately apologized profusely, feeling tears well in your eyes. You weren't the best with scolding you never had been, but to have someone who was already not in the best of moods have it become worse because of you only made you more sensitive.

He looked at you from across the desk, a grown girl with mannerisms like that of a meek fawn.

A prey.

You swallowed thickly as he stood up and leaned over the desk, strands of mahogany hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you.

"Hey hey, don't cry, we'll work through it together mmkay? You're a smart girl aren't you?"

It was a voice you'd never heard him use on anyone, and it made the hairs on your neck stand up and your legs squirm as he held your chin.

"I'm sorry it's just this is one of my final classes I need to graduate and everything is hard and I don't want to waste your time-"

"Aw, princess don't stress, don't stress," he cooed. The sweet and gentle tone of his voice was causing you to melt into his touch, wondering how someone who usually only spoke in stern curt sentences could produce such sounds.

You couldn't stop bouncing your legs and squirming in your seat as his fingertips stroked the underside of your chin softly, making soft shushes and coos at you to calm your nerves.

Fuck, he wanted to ruin you.

But he had to wait for you to make the move. He was in the precarious position and even though he could see in your gaze that you were begging for it, you were going to have to show him.

A little teasing should do the trick.

"Here, we have some time before the next test don't we? Start coming by my office everyday and we can work through this unit together so you won't have to worry alright" he offered up, sitting back down in his office chair with a soft smile on his face.

You sniffled and nodded at the premise before rushing out a plethora of "thank you"s to him, unable to stop the tingling on your chin from where he had touched you as he left........

_________________________________

"Here sweetheart move your chair over to my side of the desk so you can get a better look at my screen," he offered up, moving his chair over some to make some room.

"O-okay sure," you agreed, the name "sweetheart" ringing throughout your head. Had he always used that nickname for you? Or was he just using it as a coverup for forgetting your name? Whatever the reason, your mind was spinning in circles at the gentle way he said it.

“Cmon, you can come a little closer than that, I don’t bite ya know”, he hummed, pulling your chair closer to his. You nodded because you didn’t trust your voice and your mind couldn’t stop wandering to how large his hands looked as he pointed out errors in the extra assignments he’d given you, talking you softly through each one.

"Does that make sense?" he inquired gently, placing his head on your thigh and squeezing it. The contact made you jolt in your skin and you gulped before profusely nodding, truly able to grasp just how large his hands were as they sat on your plush thigh.

"Good girl, see you had no reason to be so worried, your work is been improving exponentially".

"T-thank you sir. I have to go to my next class now...." you trailed off awkwardly, fidgeting in your seat.

He smiled and stood up, waiting for you to do the same before escorting you to his door.

"Of course. Same time tomorrow?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, scurrying out of his office. You made a b-line to the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face, wondering if there was anything that gave away just how flustered you truly were in his proximity.

How can someone be so cute? Sunghoon hummed to himself as he sat at his desk, fiddling with his pen. His own hand still buzzed with excitement at how soft and warm your thigh was, and his mind couldn't help but trail further down a rabbit hole.

For the next month it seemed Sunghoon had only gotten friendlier and friendlier: you found out that he had a dog which he adored and would bring to the office if he was allowed to, that he had a younger sister, used to compete in sports (which you could attribute to his frame), and really liked fashion.

All the while, Sungoon used every opportunity to get you used to his touch; the stroking of your ear during one session, the soft touch of your shoulder the next. Every time you'd jolt before absentmindedly melting into it, and before you knew it you find yourself craving his touch.

You didn't dare your friends or anyone around you of your extra tutoring sessions, or that his hands were somehow find themself on yours. Surely you should be disgusted at yourself instead of electrified by the touches he leaves on you right?

But those thoughts would always disappear every time you walked into his office.

"So sorry I'm late!" you rushed out as you stepped into his office, panting from having sprinted up the stairs to get here.

Sunghoon looked up from the papers at his desk and smiled, flickering his head to come sit down.

"It's okay sweetheart don't worry," he hummed, trying to pull his eyes away from the sheen the shone on your neck.

"I've been so frazzled lately I hope you're not too mad at me being late," you rushed out, practically stumbling over to sit down in your chair.

He hummed and stared at your plush thighs that clung to the leather of the chair and watched as you shifted to prevent them sticking, getting flustered when you saw he was watching you.

"Sorry, I'm a bit sticky it's a bit warm outside, s-should I just stand instead?" you offered up quickly, standing up and fixing your sundress.

"Why don't you sit on my desk instead then? Here let me move these papers out of you way-"

"W-won't I get the desk dirty since I'm all sweaty" you interjected, heart racing as he cleared his desk off for you, making space so you'd have no choice but to sit right in front of his chair.

"Don't worry about it, now be a good girl and come sit," he cooed, giving you eyes that almost dared you to disobey him. Quickly you went over and sat on his desk, swallowing thickly when Sunghoon began massaging your calves as he removed your shoes.

"Poor baby rushed over to our tutoring session, your legs must be exhausted and aching," he soothed, tender hands working into the soft flesh of your skin.

"Only s-slightly, it's fine I"m used to it," you excused, squirming as Sunghoon leaned closer to your skin. "Is this something a professor should be um...doing, I mean I know we've gotten close b-but.." you trailed off, yelping when Sunghoon dragged his lips against your knee.

"Then tell me to stop kitten," he taunted, kissing the inner of your thighs as he slid off your other shoe, looking up at you through framed lenses.

"You're not stupid baby, your test grades prove that well enough. Surely you kept coming to our lessons hoping it'd end up like this," he continued, hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he pulled you closer against his face.

"I...I don't know," was all you could muster out, toes curling as he softly kissed your inner thighs. Sunghoon chuckled under his breath and stood up, pushing you down onto his desk as he took of his glasses.

The air was knocked out of you for a second as you lay splayed on the desk, the cool hardwood being a stark contrast to your sticky skin.

“It’s okay baby,” he leaned in, licking the sweat from your neck. “It’s okay to say you like doing perverted things with me. Go on, tell your professor how much you like it”, he cooed, rubbing your puffy clit with his thumb.

You whined as felt something tightening in your tummy, mustering up the courage to speak.

“I-I like it”, you choked out, your toes curling in your tube socks as you started to feel how thick his fingers really were.

“Awww, give me more than that yeah? Tell me exactly what you like.” He couldn’t help himself. He wanted you to profess all types of profanities through hazy eyes and shaky legs, for you to beg to be ruined and defiled by him.

“I like..doing perverted things with you.” You felt your face burn as you stumbled your way through the sentence, rutting your hips into a feeling that only got tighter.

“Aw you do? Well in that case let me teach my princess all the perverted things we can do together..." he trailed off, squeezing the side of your thighs.

"Good girl~, such a good girl~" Sunghoon cooed, lifting up the hem of your sundress. "Cute panties," he drawled as his index finger slid down the slit, pressing against the sticky wet patch. "Mind if I keep them?"

You couldn't help but buck your hips into the feeling as you nodded without a second thought, your nails digging into the gloss furnish of his desk.

"Sweetheart you shouldn't agree to everything I say," he spoke, cupping your heat in his hand and massaging it. You gripped onto his shoulders instead and whimpered into his chest as you felt trickles of wetness soak your cotton underwear, meak "I'm sorry"s leaving you.

"It's okay, it's okay, don't apologize. It's just," he moved the hair covering your ear with his mouth before kissing against it, letting out deep groans as he rutted himself against you.

"there are some bad people out there, waiting to take advantage of pretty young girls like you. Are you going to spread your legs for everyone?"

"No, it's j-just because it's...you," you whimpered against his chest.

Sunghoon sucked air through his teeth as his self control unraveled at the seams.

"Because it's me?" he inquired, kneeling down so he was eye-level with your soaked core, messing with the hem of your panties.

"Wait Ihaven'tshoweredso-" your legs shook around his head as his tongue pressed against the soaked wet patch of your underwear, groaning at the taste that trickled onto his tongue.

"Is that why you taste and smell so sweet princess?" He groaned, pulling your underwear down without a second thought to expose yourself barren to him, his cock twitching in his pants at how sticky you already were.

"Here hold my hand sweetheart, squeeze it as hard as you like," he cooed as he offered up his free hand to you. You obliged immediately and squeezed his digits as his other free hand rubbed softly against your swollen clit, leaving light kisses on the puffy bud.

You let out meek "I'm sorry"s as your nails dug into the alabaster skin of his hand, struggling to keep yourself still as you felt the warmth of his lips wrap around your clit before sucking softly.

"It's okay princess, just sink into the feeling, I'm going to make you feel so so good," he groaned between your legs. You nodded and felt your eyes flutter into the back your head as you felt every ridge of his tongue against your entrance, saliva mixing with arousal as he lapped up everything you gave him.

The pleasure only increased as he wantonly hummed around your bud, Sunghoon drunk off of how sweet and syrupy you tasted on his tongue.

Sunghoon was doing his best to not just pin you to the desk and fuck the daylights of you, not understanding how someone could be so intoxicating. Every thing from your little gasps of air to the whimpers you were trying to hide in your throat were making him dizzy, desperate even.

"Your hole is twitching every time I suck your clit princess," Sunghoon remarked as he came up for air, licking his lips clean. "It must want something in it huh?" he drawled, sliding two thick digits into you. Your back arched off the desk as you felt the tight stretch between your legs, your hands going to squeeze his wrist you whimpered.

"Oh no no baby, don't try to move away from it. Take it like a good girl, like my favorite student would," Sunghoon praised as he scissored his fingers inside of you, chuckling at how droplets of arousal leaked out.

Hearing him say you're his favorite student made your heart thrum in excitement, your thighs tensing up when the pads of his fingers pressed down against the spongy part of your walls.

"Pull your sundress down and play with your chest for me princess," Sunghoon ordered gently as he moved to the skin of your neck, infatuated with how he could feel your heart beating through his kisses. "Do it like how you do it when you're in your bed all alone, fingers between your legs..." he whispered against your ear, unable to hide his grin.

Your body felt unbearably hot as you whimpered and complied, pulling down the straps of your sundress and moving your bra. Your legs inexplicably shook as you tugged the pert buds, biting down on your lip as Sunghoon sped up the pace of his fingers.

Sunghoon made a mental note of your movements so he could replicate them next time, his mouth getting hungry as his mouth encircled a free nipple.

You spasmed slightly at his movements as you felt his coarse tongue suck and lick around the sensitive skin, making a point to hold eye contact with you any time your stare met his. Coupled with the gushing sounds he heard between your legs only got more turned on, leaving deep marks on your chest he was sure would last for days.

He couldn't help it, he was getting impatient, desperate to have you whimpering out his name and begging for him to ruin you in this godforsaken sundress.

"Fuck~ you're gonna get me in so much fucking trouble," Sunghoon groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his fingers. "I'm sorry baby but I can't let you come from just some fingering now can I?" he teased.

The eyes you gave him almost broke him down right there as he pulled out his digits and sucked them clean, unbuckling his belt with the other. On any other occasion he'd love to have you on your knees trying to fit him in your soft mouth, but his patience for that was long gone.

Your eyes enlarged as you watched his member spring free and press against his lower abdomen, Sunghoon hissing through his teeth as he stroked the reddened tip.

"Don't worry princess, we're gonna make it fit okay? Even if you are this tight," he reassured teasingly, kissing your temple as he pinned both your hands in one of his.

"Y-you don't need a condom" you choked out.

Sunghoon raised brows and chuckled at the fact such a statement could come from such a timid mouth of yours, ripping it with his teeth and putting it on regardless.

"Mmm of course I do sweetheart," he cooed, rubbing his length between your folds. Even through the condom you could feel how warm and heavy his member felt between your legs, your mind racing at the fact that you were going to have sex with your professor.

"Besides, if I came inside would you be able to keep my load inside you like a good girl? We can't have a mess in my office now can we?" he drawled in your ear, pushing his thick tip past your walls. You already felt a stretch that was incomparable to his fingers and started struggling against his grip, Sunghoon only laughing at you and tightening his hold even more.

"Shhhh don't run princess, don't run, this is how it feels to be fucked by a real man yeah? No college guy could find my baby's special spot like I could," he soothed, finding it so cute how you sucked on your bottom lip to cope with the stretch.

You raised your head slightly to discover that he was only halfway in, despite how full your lower belly felt. When Sunghoon saw your widened eyes he could only pout at you, finding you absolutely adorable.

And adorable things deserved to be ruined.

"Here princess, kiss me yeah?"

Shakily you reached up some and connected your lips with his, jolting against his mouth as Sunghoon had taken the opportunity to push himself to the hilt.

"P-professor" was all you could whine out as you felt your mind go dazy, Sunghoon using the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.

"You're doing so good, taking all of me princess, such a good girl," Sunghoon praised softly in between kisses. He knew once he started moving his hips you'd be a goner, already evident by how dazy your eyes looked when he stared into them.

You felt his tip push against the entrance of your cervix and you couldn't help but let out a sharp gasp at the feeling, biting down on Sunghoon's shoulder to cope with the heavy sensation in your tummy.

"Hello? Mr. Park are you in your office?"

Your eyes widened and you went to move to hide, recognizing the voice as your fellow classmate. Sunghoon only laughed at your attempts and pinned your wrists, giving you a "shh" motion as he continued pressing his hips against yours.

"Yeah, I'm here. However if my door is closed that means office hours are also closed correct?" he tsked, sucking a breath between his teeth as you clenched down around him.

Despite his seemingly calm composure you had your mouth squeezed shut feeling a tight knot start to form.

Your legs shook as you tried tapping his wrist with your bound hands, Sunghoon cooing at you softly and kissing your cheek.

"I know you're close baby, I know I know, just hold out for a bit longer mmkay? I'll take care of you, I will."

You could only nod as your face scrunched up from holding back your moans, desperately wondering why this student was so keen on getting into the office of one of the most stubborn people alive.

"I know, but there's this problem I really-"

"Rules are rules" he interjected, taking out his point on you by an extra forceful snap of his hips. Yours nails digged into your own skin as you tried to follow your professors wishes and hold out just a bit longer for him, softly whispering his name to garner his attention.

“Just a bit longer,” he shushed warmly, kissing your temple as he listened to the footsteps outside the door. Sure enough there was a sigh, followed by the sound of sneakers against the tile floor and the student walked away, Sunghoon relinquishing his grip on you and slowly speeding up his hips.

“P-Professor my tummy," was all you could manage out, squirming as you felt the knot get tighter.

"Mmm, you feel the pressure building right here?" Sunghoon couldn't help but tease, firmly pushing down on your lower belly. Your nails left red marks down his back and chest as you gasped at the feeling, mind slowly entering a point of incoherence.

You hazily nodded and felt your toes curl as Sunghoon peppered your neck with open mouth kisses, unable to stop himself from marking you.

"I'm close too princess, hold on just a bit longer for me and we can come together yeah? C'mon, I know you can," Sunghoon purred as his hips only sped up faster, raising your lower back slightly make sure he hit your spot every single time.

You could only hold your breath and scrunch your face as you tried warding off the feeling that was only getting stronger. Sunghoon's own resolve had withered away as he bit down on his bottom lip to suppress the groan that would be heard by the whole hallway, sweat on his entire body as you squeezed down on him like a vice.

"Fuck~ princess, go ahead and let loose for me."

You felt your mind go blank as the knot snapped tighter than you were anticipating, having to suppress your moans by burying yourself into Sunghoon's neck as liquid gushed from between your legs and your walls pulsed around sporadically.

Sunghoon's came shortly thereafter by burying his face in your own neck, his breathing ragged and uneven as he lay shaking on top of you.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you and your mind started swimming at what you'd just done and the mess you'd just made, knowing that if your ancestors were ever to watch you they'd hang their heads in shame.

Yet, that didn't stop you from wanting to do it again.

"Professor," you began, refusing to make eye contact with him after what you'd just done.

"Mmmm yes sweetheart?" Sunghoon cooed as he slowly pulled out, his collarbones and forehead glistening with sweat as he hid the evidence.

"Next time, I-I wanna do it...at your place," you offered up. This was a dangerous and well, a fireable request, you both knew that. However, that didn't stop Sunghoon from bending down to kiss your collarbones and chin, beaming it with happiness.

"I think I'd quite like that arrangement princess."

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

FIRE BREATHING—wait, haven't i seen this before ?! - the dragon's route ☆ !

cashmoneyyysstuff's big 6K event!!

synopsis : big red horns, sharp fangs, fiery breath and a blazing temper—meet your new mate katsuki !! and.. the big ass hole in your wall ?!

you were hoping to start your day off like usual, but apparently it seemed the universe just didn't want it that way.

based on the something that had just blasted through the wall of your dorm room.

despite almost jumping to your ceiling, you're still in a daze. which is why when you managed to catch a mop of blond through your misty eyes—despite the big ass red horns and massive wings towering behind its back, the first word you uttered was a sleepy—

"kahsuki...?"

after which, you promptly fall back asleep.

when you wake up again. you jump to the ceiling again, but for a couple of different reasons.

you've definitely overslept and were no doubt going to have to rush to class.

your boyfriend was mostly likely already on his way to your dorm room and would definitely not be happy to have to wait for you.

it feels pretty chilly all of a sudden, you realise— only to then realise there was a damn hole in your fucking wall.

hole in the wall. something blasted through your wall. something was still in your room when you fell back asleep. you fell back asleep.

how the hell did you fall back asleep ??!!!!

"i was wondering when you'd awaken, you sleep like a log." the deep rumble of the something's voice startles you. you look to your right, only to see...

"katsuki ?"

except it wasn't...quite him. big red horns had sprouted along the sides of his head, his bored slanted eyes seemed just a bit sharper, just a bit redder. you could catch the glint of a little red earring, and you absolutely couldn't miss the mountains of jewellery he had dangling around his neck. nor the tribal looking tattoos (when'd he get those done ?) on his arms and his very exposed chest.

he hums, choosing to ignore your words to continue staring at you. "i'll ignore you using my name so casually, 'cus your face isn't..." he trails off, reaching a large hand out to smush your cheeks together "...too bad to look at." he settles.

you're absolutely, completely, positively, stumped.

"what are you talking about ?" you paw at his wrist to get him to release you. he doesn't let go, but he does relent and soften his hold slightly.

"how'd you get in my room ? and wha'd ya do to m'wall ?" you ask sleepily, bleary eyes squinting at your boyfriend's bored face.

"you called for me. so here i am." he answered simply. simple as that and it looked like he had absolutely no intention of elaborating. you, still being very sleepy, decide to say the only other thing on your mind.

"i didn't know you liked cosplaying..."

katsuki tilts his head, everything on him dangles "what the hell are you on about ? prattling on like that...you humans say some strange things."

you turn to look at the giant hole in your wall, really look at it.

you point towards the sun shining in your face, reminding you it was very much time to wake up "wha—ka'suki, my wall—"

"i'll fix it later." your boyfriend groans. "but why ?"

"i just told you—"

"but i didn't—"

knock, knock !!

you both perk up as a rather loud series of bangs rattle your door. oh god, katsuki was here and you still hadn't gotten dressed!! you can already hear him complaining—

wait but—

you turn to look at katsuki with the horns. he's let go off your face by now and his eyes are fixed on the door like he's ready to pounce.

you jump, leap up from your bed. grab a fistful of your handle and swing it open and—

"katsuki ?"

"the hell are doin' ? class starts in like, twenty minutes ! i swear, this is the last fuckin' time i'm coming to pick your ass up..."

he rambles and mumbles and you know he's lying cus this is the second time this week he's said this exact same phrase. but you feel like you've just been hit dead on by a sound grenade.

wait but—

"the fuck happened here ?!" katsuki's eyes immediately flit to your decimated wall, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry, and then his eyes flit past you to katsuki (?) already on his feet still in front of your bed. . . .

"AND WHO THE FUCK IS THAT??!!"

"MORE LIKE WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU ?!" katsuki barks. and you cannot believe it when your boyfriend starts bickering with...himself.

god, you wish you could go back to sleep.

"...can anybody tell me what's happening here ?"

"that's what i'd like to know !" you're boyfriend exclaimed from the your left, foot tapping impatiently on the floor, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed "sensei, you better deal with this weirdo 'fore i do it !" he warned.

"as if ! don't make me laugh, like a weakling like you could lay a finger on me." your boyfriend, the one on your right and with the— oh yeah —the horns and a tail—growled. arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, legs spread out laying back like he was demanding dominance in the room, occasionally glaring at the other teachers walking in and out the lounge.

you have a margin of about .2 seconds, a singular eye twitch from your boyfriend before they're both shooting up from their seats, foreheads almost knocking against each other " HAH ?! you trynna talk shit wearin' my face, you faker ?! i'll roast you alive !" your (original ? is that what you should call it ?) boyfriend's already rolling up his sleeves, hands popping in warning.

the dragon barks out a loud laugh "try it if you want, i"ll rip you apart 'till there's nothin' left of ya !" he growls, cracking his knuckles menacingly.

all you can manage is a sigh while they bicker, missing how the both of them shoot you a brief look. until your homeroom teacher sends chills through all three of your spines, sending you a harsh glare and a singular rackle of his throat sends every ounce of killing intent in the room flying, overpowered by the dead eye of the man before you. you didn't sign up to have your fight of flight instincts kick in this early in the morning !

neither of them sit back down, but they do rip they gazes away from each other to look at the bigger threat in the room, occasionally sending each other nasty side eyes.

mr. aizawa rubs at his temples and lets out a very, very tired sigh, pushing his hair back "now...can anyone tell me what is happening ?" he starts up again, he sighs when no one seems to have an answer for him. the black haired man points to your boyfriend with the horns "you, answer quickly—what's your name ?"

the horned boy grumbles, but lowly growls out an answer "bakugou katsuki, better not forget it.." you hear your boyfriend let out a quiet scoff on your other side. aizawa sensei ignore it, quickly whipping a finger towards him.

"you. has anything happened to you recently ? have you had any strange interactions lately ?"

katsuki racks his brain, thinking for a moment before he grunts "mm, i guess...was out to get groceries last weekend and this weirdo bumped into me. started apologising like crazy too, somethin' about how 'the after effects shouldn't be too bad' or whatever."

"that's suspicious as hell !!" you gawk "why didn't you say anything when it happened ?!" you exclaim.

"i don't fucking know, thought he was just a crackhead or something ! how was i supposed to know this was gonna happen ?!" katsuki shoots back, pointing over to his doppelgänger. mr aizawa nods to himself, mildly intrigued.

"okay, so we've narrowed down our cause...the problem is what we do now." you bite your lip in thought. your boyfriend finally takes his seat back next to you and the beast stiffens, immediately shooting back down next to you as well and even scooting his chair closer to yours. getting an unimpressed eye-roll from your boyfriend, before he sneakily tries to do the same.

"ain't it obvious ? all we gotta do is send this bastard back where he came from." you turn to look up at the beast katsuki's shoulder pressed to yours. honestly as unbelievable as it was in this situation you couldn't help but be reminded of those cheesy otome games you used to like when you were younger. or those random 12 episode anime you'd watch where the main boys would fight for the girls love—except this was your boyfriend ! and if the room wasn't so tense this would kinda be a dream come true—but you needed to focus !

"uhm, well...katsuki..?" and both of them immediately turn to you, it almost makes you jump—snap out of it. "..how do we send you back ?" katsuki stares at you then sends you an amused huff.

"wouldn't know," he shrugs. and then he's already so close but leans in closer and if you hadn't backed up in time your noses would've bumped. "pretty bold of you to try and send me away after you called me, sweets. but you're not getting rid of me that easy."

your skin heats up despite your best efforts "i—keep telling you i didn't call you ! i don't even know how i would do that !"

he's so in your space, leaning in ever closer despite you trying to keep your distance and he talks to you lowly "if you're worried about these morons hearing you, rest assured i'll clear this place out in no time. no different from any old dungeon in here." he boasts proudly, you can practically taste your ticking time bomb of a boyfriend about to basically implode from next to you.

quickly, you place your hand on top of his leg basically by instinct. his leg stops bouncing but he still sounds anything but pleased, he practically burns behind you as he grumbles under his breath. you feel bad for your homeroom teacher who can only watch and sigh.

"anyway. we'll wait and see what happens after a while. l/n, this bakugou seems pretty attached to you so i'll grant you and excused absence to watch over him until we get this sorted out." the older man explained. your katsuki immediately straightens up.

"oh, fuck no ! i'm not letting' her stay with this creep ?!"

"i know it might not be ideal, but you can't exactly take him to class." your teacher sweatdrops. the blonde can't exactly disagree and he curses under his breath. you take this chance to reassure him, rubbing his leg soothingly.

"i'll be all good, katsuki. you don't need to worry." you smile

your boyfriend searches your face for any signs of distress, sends his clone one look then immediately looks back at you with hardened eyes " i'll stay with you then."

your teacher cuts you off before you can respond "i don't remember allowing you to cut class, bakugou." you both stiffen at his tone. you feel a bit bad when you see how conflicted he looks between being a secret goodie two shoes and wanting to watch over you.

"hey," you assured, "i'll be fine. besides, it's still you so it shouldn't be all bad." you tease. and even though he still looks a bit worried, katsuki resigns and sighs lowly saying "if he does anything to you i'll fucking kill 'im." you pat his shoulder in agreement and katsuki sets out to go to class (not before sending horned katsuki a very deadly glare you're sure would've killed anyone else if it wasn't to designated to...himself.)

your attention is brought back to your teacher who is also starting to make his way to class, grabbing his sleeping bag and complaining about being 'too tired for this...'

"well i'll leave you to it. l/n, if you need anything let me know." and though he stays deadpanned, the tone of his voice is warm and you know he means it, you nod, he sighs, then leaves you alone with katsuki...number two ?

you could make the best out of this, you had to until you could figure something out. "well, let's try to get along then, yeah ?" you smiled, reaching a hand out to shake his. katsuki scowls down at your hand like it was nasty before grabbing it and pulling you up with him until your pressed right against his chest, you can see the identical faded scar under his eye better now, your heart hammers hard against your chest. or was it his ? you can't tell the difference.

he presses his nose to yours "i won't accept you treating me like your comerade. you're mine, i'm yours, and you will treat me as such." he commands. he leans forward and bites your cheek softly "understand ?"

all you can manage is a dumb nod. katsuki seems happy with himself, and smirks. he squeezes your hand then tells you to lead the way. you nod robotically, and while you walk back trying to avoid crowded hallways, you remember.

"ah ! hey, about my wall..!"

"tch, i got it. told you i'd fix it didn't i ?"

as promised, katsuki had fixed your wall, somehow. you won't question it.

aside from that, it was just you and your literal other worldly boyfriend now.

currently, you've been allowed to skip class. seeing as it would be quite the hassle to bring what looked like a barbarian bakugou into class. he had already caused enough trouble in the teacher's lounge and your homeroom teacher had determined that if he worked like any other bakugou, he'd be manageable with you around.

your katsuki, your boyfriend katsuki, had used any free time he could find to check up on you through text, openly very opposed to leaving you alone with his clone (although the other katsuki insisted that your boyfriend was his clone.) but you managed to reassure him. and you'd really, really like to avoid another death match like the one from this morning.

so, it was currently just you and him.

"so what do you wanna eat, you must be hungry right ? we've still got left over pancake mix in here if you'd like !" you call from where your head is hidden inside the cupboard.

you're a little bit happy that you're able to properly have breakfast considering you did sleep in. you turn to see dragon katsuki (he insisted on the fact that he was in fact a dragon and not a demon.) still carefully scanning the common room with his eyes. looking around for anything off like a hunter as he slowly makes his way over to you.

"you don't have to be scared, y'know ? it's just us here." you manage to tease, you think you're only able to mess with him because he is your boyfriend...in a way. he huffs loudly, chest puffing out while he continues to scan the area "don't insult me, m'not afraid of nuffin'." he boasts.

yup, definitely your katsuki...

"alright, tough guy.." you hum. picking up all your ingredients to begin making your breakfast peacefully without kaminari around to try to catch a lick of the batter or a bite of your pancakes. dragon katsuki finally gets curious enough seeing you prancing around the stove and makes his way over to you, looming over your shoulder, he runs very warm and you will yourself to ignore it.

"want some ? " you ask, still whipping your batter around, adding some extra milk to make it extra fluffy.

"what is it ?" he asks, scrunching his nose up. he leans closer to your shoulder to sniff at the mix.

"pancakes—well, not yet, but it will be." you explain. "they're good." you reassure and he grunts. which with your katsuki, was usually meant as an agreement.

you freeze up for a moment when you feel him lay his head on your shoulder, before promptly continuing. is this still weird even if it's your boyfriend's clone ? other version from another dimension ?

"so...what brings you here ?" you spoke awkwardly. katsuki's breath hits the side of your neck when he turns to look up at you.

"i've told you a million times already." he almost whines.

"and i keep asking because you make no sense ! i didn't call for you, i would've just...used my phone if i wanted you over !" you spluttered.

"that flimsy piece of plastic is as useless as the rest of your human technology. that has nothing to do with it." he presses his hand to your heart and speaks lowly when he continues "this called for me, right here." you feel your heart hammer, no doubt he feels it too because a soft little smirk forms on his face. "so, i came." a bigger smirks builds on his face when he looks up at you "you should be grateful really, i don't give my time to just anyone."

you scoff, he banters exactly like your boyfriend too. "oh, i feel so honoured that you destroyed my wall." you deadpan.

he rolls his eyes with a whinge "but i fixed it, no ?"

"there was no need for you to destroy it in the first place ! talk about a first impression." you huff.

"you're mine, no need for first impressions if i already know you were made for me." katsuki grumbles.

your heart skips despite itself, you try to remain poised "yours, huh ?"

"you are, and you seem to like the sound of that, too." he smirks.

"do not !" you deny.

"your heartbeat has picked up again—oh, and again just now—" you shrug your shoulder to try and nudge him off, embarrassed. but all it does is make him laugh and wrap his arms around you. you try to ignore the fact he is very shirtless behind you. you pour your batter onto your skillet.

"it did not, you liar."

"ya forget my hearing is superior to yours, sweets. i hear every little sound you make. can't hide shit from me."

"la, la la—damn, this is sizzling so hard i just cannot make out a single thing you're saying !" you say dramatically loud. you feel katsuki shake his head and he leans up to nip at your ear like he knows it'll make you squeal.

yup, that's your boyfriend alright...

the dragon boy has destroyed about ten pancakes and two glasses of juice before he calls it quits. he's a bit of a messy eater, but you don't mind much. (that is one difference you've managed to find between him and your boyfriend.)

you're sitting across from him and now that you've calmed down you take your time to look at his features. you really look at him.

"what's your name ?" you ask. he raises a brow at your sudden question, gulping down a last bite of fluffy pancake.

"you know my name." he answers simply.

"just—c'mon !" you whine, he rolls his eyes but relents anyway.

"bakugou, katsuki."

" okay..." you continue warily " how old are you ?"

"eighteen."

built like that ?! although your boyfriend's always had a pretty...impressive body—you quickly shake these thoughts away. okay, same age as your boyfriend.

"favorite food ?"

"don't care s'long as it's spicy."

"what's your favourite colour ?"

"fuckin'—who cares ?" he grumbles.

holy shit, this was your katsuki.

"i just don't get it, you're both so much alike !" you marveled, stretching out across the island table, dragon katsuki makes a displeased face at your words but doesn't comment, licking his fingers.

"you look so much like katsuki, too—well, my katsuki, other than the horns.." you look down behind the high chair he's sitting at, his now missing tail. he'd told you he could tuck it away, somehow. things could not get any weirder than this, you're sure. "...and the tail."

katsuki pops a maple syrup covered finger out of his mouth to stare at you. "i am your katsuki. and if you're talking about the usurper you shouldn't worry, i'll have dealt with 'im soon." he spits out, scowling down at his plate. then he looks around the room. "where is he, anyway ?"

you sweatdrop "you don't need to worry about him right now, yeah ? it's just us two here." and you fail to notice the way his eyes zero on you at your words "and please don't do anything to him, i'd rather not have my boyfriend try and kill...himself ?" you wonder, running a hand across your forehead. too focused to realise the dragon boy had made is way over to you.

you squeak when you feel a hard head of hair knock against the side of your skull, nudging at you like a cat. and instinctively, you turn around to meet eyes identical with the one's you love so much. his eyes are sharp and fiery red as they fix onto yours.

"you're too focused on that guy...stop thinkin' about him so much when your mate's right in front of you, dammit..." he mutters, cheeks slowly turning pink and the hard base of his horns dig against your scalp. your heart thrums faster inside your chest. this katsuki was so different and yet so similar to the one you were used to. it simply felt like you got to see another side to the boy you loved.

"don't start getting jealous of yourself now, suki." you tease. you put a bit more of your weight against him and he pushes back with a low growl, closing his eyes and nudging against your head and neck. you could've sworn you just heard a sort of purr sound coming from him ?

"that sham is everything except me, quit insulting me." he shoots, you can feel his jaw tighten from where he's nestled in your shoulder and it's literally instinctive how your hand reaches up to pet his hair and—oh, there it is again, that rumble that comes all the way from his chest that you feeling radiating through your bones. he seems very happy.

you snort at his words and decide to mess with him "my sincerest apologies, is there anything i can do to make you forgive me ?"

but then he's leaning up to look at you and the atmosphere is tense, so tense. you're tempted to hold your breath. he looks at you intensely, studying your next move like you were actual prey.

"i mean..." he starts quietly "there is something you could do..."

oh, oh it's coming. you know that look.

god, he really is your katsuki. you quickly squeeze your eyes shut and wait, but what you expect doesn't come. you peek at him when you feel his forehead connect to yours again. he speaks, still just as quiet but just as intensely.

"promise me. promise me you'll be mine. forever." he orders, breathing getting just a bit heavier, or maybe that was yours—had it always been this hot ?

"y-yeah, yeah of course i am..." and he leans in to lick at your cheek, gnawing at it like a dog.

you giggle "yes, i promise !" he seems happy with your answer, a softer smile forms on his face as he looks at you like you're treasure.

"right, i'll hold ya to it then."

and the instant you blink—he's gone.

you're left alone to think about what the hell just happened, left with the extra dishes you'd made for your mysterious guest.

about a few hours later, your boyfriend—the non dragon one—practically charges into your room, almost destroying your door in the process. you'd heard him stomping down the hallway so you weren't too phased.

"where is he ?! where is that fucking overgrown, horned, lizard fucker at ?!" katsuki charges in like a bull—hands popping and ready for action, he's looks like he's sweating a bit too and you wonder if he ran here.

"he's already gone, suki." you giggle, putting your phone down to properly look at him "he left a few hours beforehand. i guess there's a sort of time limit to this quirk, huh ? but then i wonder why it acts so late.." you think to yourself out loud. you've just noticed that your boyfriend has been way too quiet when you suddenly feel your bed dip and his big hands drop down onto your cheeks to turn you around as he sees fit, ignoring your squeals of protest.

"what happened while i was gone ? did he do anything—did he touch you ?!" your boyfriend rambles. you grab his wrists with both hands and smile with puffed out cheeks.

"welax, an' lemme go ! m'okay !" your muffled voice squeals out, your laughter makes your boyfriend shake his head with a huff, releasing you softly although he doesn't let you go fully yet, leaning down a bit more to get to look at you better, both of his knees dig into your matress where you're laying between him.

"honestly, he wasn't a big deal. we just had some food and chatted a bit. he was nice, real sweetheart." you explained, your boyfriend's face scrunched up more and more as you do. you snort and reach up to pinch he's cheeks "don't make that face, you'll get wrinkles, handsome."

katsuki shoo's your hands off, scoffing but feeling himself blush at your petname. he takes his turn to grip your wrists.

"shut up, don't talk about that weirdo like that. bastard was a damn shape shifter an' your treating him like the love of your life 'r something..." he groused, you giggle.

"well..." you tease. katsuki immediately cuts you off with a sharp "don't." his eyes squinted and sharp but he rubs so softly at your wrists and blushes even harder. when he backs off of you, he flops back on your bed with a harsh sigh, he's still holding onto one of your wrists.

you play with a short strand of his hair in your reach, twirling it around your finger with a silly smile "it was kinda cool, though. it was so freaky how alike you guys were." katsuki's nose pulls up at your ceiling while you speak "he was just as much of a brat as you were, it was cute."

your boyfriend looks at you incredulously, squeezing your wrist in reprimand "you're such a weirdo. don't go sympathizing with a clone."

"actually, i think he might be from an alternate dimension."

"durr, actually, durr—" katsuki mocks you with a nasally voice "doesn't matter and no one cares—clone's a clone. and i'm better."

"oh, yeah. totally." you joked, chuckling when he looks at you skeptically. then, he flips over to lay on top of you with his full weight "oof ! fuh—katsuki !" you wheeze out. your boyfriend only makes himself more comfortable, letting out an exaggerated sigh into your neck like he hadn't heard you.

"well, anyway...i'm glad things have gone back to normal. as much as i do love you, i think one katsuki is more than enough for everyone." you manage, reflexively carding your finger through his hair, to which a happy noise rumbles out from his chest, almost like the dragon boy you'd talked to just a few hours ago.

you think having two katsuki would be too much for your heart to handle, as irritating as he is.

"got that right." your boyfriend said groggily, letting out a small yawn into your warming skin. " i'm the only katsuki you need anyway."

you don't know if he misunderstood you on purpose, but you feel him smirk against your shoulder when you burst out into laughter, and you think that's just fine.

"mhm, dragon or not, you can't out do the doer, hm ?" you tease.

"damn right." your boyfriend shoots back and you both share a laugh.

this day had been rather crazy, but you couldn't find it in yourself to complain about it. you're happy to find out even another version of katsuki was as annoyingly endearing as ever, and that you loved him just as much.

and most importantly, that everything was back to normal now.

and especially your wall.

taglist ! ( if your name is in bold i couldnt tag u :(( ) :

@jastoo46 @cecelia77 @erenstitanweave @closehereyes @stoned-anime-babe @taxavoider @yannvi @sugurusmoon @allurearia @kaerotica @wonubby @cupidsblonde @catsoupki @ita606 @andysdrafts @omitea @lili-of-the-vally @serpent-hearted @ghostorchidd @shewki @pirana10 @witch-craft-works @kanvis @okkotsuus @dragonscribble @emmiesarchive @screaming-dough @napbatata @cacaandweewizzsstuff @redollface @meowsannie @katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba @moonshuul @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam @aspiringwriter1111 @redvelvetstan1 @niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia @qyuin

[st7rnioioss]

۶ৎ FARMERS!DAUGHTER!READER x COWBOY!MATT STURNIOLO

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... smut, fingering, praise kink?, secret relationship, mentions of a gun

you panted as you laid up against matt’s chest, the old bed beneath your bodies letting out squeaks as you squirmed, your nails digging into his jean-clad thighs, letting a sharp whine slip from your parted slip.

“y’gotta be quiet for me, darlin’. can’t have your daddy catch us, can we?” his voice sounded just beside your ear, dragging another whimper from your lips. just the thought of anyone seeing you like this made your head fuzz and eyes close shut, and another sweet moan echoed through the room.

matt had made you sneak out earlier, telling you to tell your father that you were just ‘running an errand’. but! matt had taken you to the roadhouse just down the country road. and gosh, had he adored watching you let loose, twirling around in the pretty white dress that complimented your soft skin just perfectly. he didn’t care about the drinks that night, leaving the roadhouse with more than half a beer left, but you in his hands.

hence why you’re here now… one of matt’s hands rest on your lower stomach, holding you still against his body, his other hand shoved under the beautiful dress, your panties tucked to the side as his fingers relentlessly make their way in and out of your sloppy cunt. his palm occasionally makes contact with your clit, eliciting a soft moan from you.

“matt! i can’t! please, please, please..” you blabbered, attempting to close your legs, but it was impossible from his legs locked around yours, keeping you spread open just for him. his fingers continued their languid movements, curling just perfectly to nudge at that sweet spot within you.

he was enjoying every second of this. watching his little angel fall completely apart beneath him, seeing him ruin you, from just his fingers. this wasn’t even the beginning of what he had of plans.

“nuh, uh. you can, baby. or i’ll stop..” he chuckled when he felt you immediately shake your head pathetically, nails digging further into the dark-washed denim with a whine of disagreement. you had to be quiet because he was well aware that your daddy had a well-beloved shotgun, and he wasn’t afraid to use it.

the whole situation has your head spinning. sure, you’ve done this before - alone. you’re so aroused from him reaching further than you could ever dream to attempt yourself, throwing your head back against his shoulder, feeling his chin rest on your collarbone to take a peek at his fingers thrust in and out of your sweet hole. “you’re so fuckin’ pretty, darlin’… cum for me.” his accent was thick, making your stomach churn and walls clench around his digits.

your eyes fell shut, back arching as his thumb made contact with your soft bud, his hand on your stomach sneaking its way to your mouth, muffling your moans as it became hard to hold back the sweet noises that threatened to slip, the only noise in the room being the wet and lewd squelching from your pussy.

“juuuust like that, huh? y'like that?” his hand tightened on your mouth when you let go of his thighs to instead dig your nails into his forearms and nodded weakly, your cunt tightening around his fingers that kept fucking in and out of your sopping cunt, his thumb not slowing the deliberate circles on your clit.

with a quiet whimper, you cum around his digits while he kisses and nibbles on the soft skin of your neck. “there we go, baby.. made jus’ for me, aren’t ya?” he cooed, slowing down his movements before they stopped completely, withdrawing his fingers from your sweet pussy.

hesitantly, he removed his hand from your mouth, his thumb running across your lower lip as he tugged it down, the fingers that had been inside of your pussy moment prior now resting on your tongue. as if your head wasn’t already clouded, it definitely was now, and it only made you want him to do it all over again.

“such an angel,” he kissed down your neck again, feeling your tongue swirl around the digits between your lips, before removing them with a pop. you turned your head to look up at him through hooded eyes, your face flushed and panting heavily.

“such an angel…” his words repeated, pressing a kiss to your forehead as a warm smile spread across your pink lips. “gotta get you to bed now, shall we?” you nodded, sitting back up in the bed as you tugged your panties back on.

“matty?” he turned around when he heard your sweet voice, putting his hat back on. “will i see you again tomorrow?” he almost melted at your words, smiling as you crawled under the covers.

“of course you will, sweet thing. i’ll be right back before you know it.” he stood by the edge of your squeaky bed, tilting your head up to meet his gaze by taking your chin between his fingers. “sleep tight, dolly.” you blushed at his words, smiling widely while looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“good night, matt.” you whispered, as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, keeping his fingers on your chin. he pulled back, taking a look at you sitting there, all pretty in your bed, before pressing a finger to his lips as if to shush you, backing his way to the window. you giggled when he fiddled with the window, offering you a wink before he disappeared out into the night.

you were sure that night, that he’d just dragged you to heaven and back.

more farmers!daughter!reader here!

୭˚. ᵎᵎ tags: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn let me know if you'd like to be added or removed at any time!

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[dotthings]

Here's a clip of more from Misha's panel and he confirmed Robert Berens intentionally wrote that confession to mean romantic love not love in a "love ya bro" kind of way, confirmed Berens was going to leave the show for the final season but stayed so he could see that storyline through, confirmed that there were "stages" to how Destiel was treated in the show, it started out with fandom viewpoints, and then some winks and nods done by the show, and then eventually the writers were working in hints in that direction, he confirmed that yes he and Jensen discussed it, confirmed at a certain point they started playing into it more deliberately (seemingly in pace with the writers and the story hints) and reiterated he was really stunned that they were able to give Cas an open love declaration like that.

This is confirmation of writer intent. Confirmation the actors talked about it and knew about it and played into it, following the writers. Confirmation of creative deliberation. No this was not just some headcanon or fandom delusion.

People at the show, who make the show, were for it, and since the network was never going to let that be full-open mutually confirmed they did their best to convey it however they good. Snuck it in the back door. And we've already been told there was a lot of careful chess-playing to get the confession to air and they were all worried the network might cut it.

No amount of screaming and hate and denial from spnstanbunchanumbers on twitter is going to undo it or make Destiel shippers "delusional" for noticing, make it less canon.

The creatives at spn were on your side. This was not a queerbait. If you want to accuse anything of that, please aim it at the cw network and it's cap on representation and its queer erasure, because broadcast TV networks are like this. They are still like this, things do seem to be changing a little, as Misha said, things are becoming a bit more inclusive and open, but it's not like the whole system reforms all at once.

Cas being gay and canonically in love with Dean got erased in show-connected PR, and for a time, stifled on CE con stages. That doesn't make it not canonical.

FYI for historical context, the reason "canon Destiel" even became the major discourse that it did was because of how the show started handling it differently. That shift happened in Carver era. And Carver hired Berens.

[darnell-la]

What about Wade and Logan watching Vanessa and Reader pole dancing together and the boys getting all hot and bothered by watching?

note: overload — that’s all you guys need to know.

———

“Aren’t you excited!? Your long-time, short-time crush is going to dance in front of us tonight with my long-time and short-term fiancé,”

As soon as the two entered the bar, Wade couldn’t stop teasing Logan about the fact that this young lady he’s been crushing on for a while, will be dancing tonight.

“She just started yesterday, why would she already be on stage?” Logan sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “Maybe because she’s the hottest worker, right after my fiancé!?”

Logan glared at Wade, making him put his hands up in a surrendering passion.

“Look, don’t be grumpy all night. I wanna enjoy my butter pecan up there, alright? Good boy,” Wade patted Logan’s head before shouting out Vanessa's name to support her before she came up.

“That’s my girly pop!” Wade yelled out, making Vanessa chuckle as she danced on stage with y/n. Their session was almost done, and Logan felt drained. Watching y/n like this was going to be unforgettable tonight.

At first, he hated the idea of y/n being like this in front of so many men. That’s the reason why he came last second. Now he’s wishing he never did, with how hard and leaky he was from watching.

He couldn’t possibly go up to y/n without her knowing. She’d see the patch instantly. He cursed himself for being a perv.

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” Logan got up and quickly walked away before Wade could speak or anyone could see him cover himself up.

“Logan!? Wade sent me back here to come and get you! He said you’ve been all here for almost an hour,” y/n said as she made her way down the small hallway to the bathrooms.

After the show, it got dead, since people were only there to see the strippers of the night.

“Logan?” Y/n asked again, but he still didn’t hear her. He was too busy trying to focus on his release. “Logan, are you even here?” Y/n opened the men’s bathroom slowly, not really caring if she saw anyone else. She wanted to make sure Logan was alright if he was still here.

“Goddamnit,” y/n heard Logan grunt. She wanted to turn back around and leave, thinking he was having trouble using the bathroom until she saw one hand over the bathroom stall.

She squinted her eyes to take a better look, seeing how tight he was gripping the metal. The stall was bending in from how hard he gripped down.

“F-Fuck, just- Fuck, c’mon,” Logan groaned in annoyance, angry that he’s been going at this for what felt like days. He’s a mutant, so he should be able to last however long he pleased, but he wanted to release now. He’s never been this hard in his life.

“Logan?” Y/n said low, but surprisingly, he heard her this time. “Fuck-“ the man cut himself off and stopped instantly. “Y/n!?” The man panicked as he fixed himself up, but that was going to be hard.

He’s been leaking for who knows how long, and everything had made its way all over his hand. When he went to wipe his hand in his jeans, all it did was make him look worse.

“Yeah, I was just- I was just checking on. Wade told me to,” y/n said as she rubbed her fingers together, a bit embarrassed that she probably witnessed Logan, and an older adult jerking off in a bar bathroom.

“That motherfucker,” Logan mumbled as he began to buckle his pants. “I can, uh, leave if you’d like. I’m technically doing something illegal anyways,” y/n spoke about her being in the men’s bathroom. “No, no!- Just wait a second,”

Y/n stayed silent as she heard Logan groan in frustration and probably break a few things in the stall before he finally came out.

“Hey, Bub, uh, wassup?” Logan asked as he quickly walked over to the sink, not trying to make anything seem too obvious. “Just checking’ on ya,” y/n smiled as she scanned the man.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Logan?” Y/n felt the need to walk over to Logan, but slowly. “Yeah, Bub, just needed to take a leak, that’s all,” Logan lied as he turned around after drying his hands.

“Are you sure? You’re breathing a bit heavy, and-“ Y/n went on until she looked down at his lower body, seeing what his jeans looked like. They were basically drenched in one particular area.

Logan took a deep breath with his eyes closed, knowing he was caught and couldn’t lie his way out. He prayed she’d think he was just some man who needed to rub one out, but she kept asking him the right questions.

“First time watching the new modern women strip?” Y/n chuckled shyly as if wondering if this was even a joking situation. “You’re a funny one,” Logan chuckled as he fixed his shirt he noticed was sitting wrong.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed. Most men don’t know how to act when they see a pair of tits,” y/n joked, but that slightly bruised Logan’s ego.

“Seen enough tits in my life, Bub,” Logan said, right before he took a look down at her chest. “Oh, you have? Seems like a fun life,” y/n got a bit defensive at his response. She couldn’t believe it at first, but her response was out of jealousy.

“Ain’t too bad — As long as they come with a pretty face,” Logan said as he looked into her eyes with a head tilt. “Yeah,” was all y/n could say as she broke eye contact.

“You know you’re pretty, right?” Logan asked as he moved towards y/n, softly letting his hand rest on her waist. “Really?” Y/n asked, confidence suddenly being thrown out of the window.

“Oh, yeah — So damn pretty,” Logan placed his free hand on her cheek, slightly rubbing it as her eyes widened. “T-Thank you,” y/n stuttered, and all Logan could do was chuckle at how she got around him.

“Got me all worked up out there, hun. Didn’t know you could move like that,” Logan admitted. “That’s why they had me dance on my first day,” Y/n said, reminding Logan about that. “That doesn’t sit right with me, Bub. Don’t want you back here workin’ for a creep,”

“But Vanessa? She works here,” y/n said, but he some care. “That ain’t my girl, so what she does, doesn’t concern me,” Logan said, not wanting to sound rude, but he truly did not care about anyone else, but y/n.

“You, though? You’re my girl, and you didn’t tell me about this job — Wade had to,” Logan said as the hand on her waist tightened. “And, that doesn’t sit right with me,”

Y/n felt the need to apologize, thinking she did something terribly wrong, even though she didn’t. Only in Logan’s eyes, she did do something that would need some consequences.

“Gonna say anything before I do what I’ve been needing for the past two hours?” Y/n wanted to speak, but she couldn’t. She was curious about how far Logan would take this.

“C’mere,” Logan said as he pulled y/n into a bigger bathroom stall than the one he was in. Once he locked the door, he pushed y/n to her knees, making sure to keep eye contact with her soft eyes.

“Gonna need you to look at me just like that until I’m done, okay? Been stuck for the past hour with this shit,” Logan said as he reached into his jeans to pull himself out. He didn’t think about it, but y/n sure did once she saw his length.

He was long, harder than she’d ever seen anyone before, thick, veiny, and leaking more than an average human should be.

“Open up, Bub,” was all Logan said as he pushed at her lips with his tip. Y/n hesitated but soon opened up and took him in. She had stopped after a few inches, but he continued thrusting his hips until she was in as much as he thought she could take.

“Fuck, baby — This is exactly what I needed,” Logan rolled his eyes as he felt instant release. He knew he was close, but he wanted to last. “Stop gaggin, baby — Wanna last a bit longer,” Logan told y/n, but she couldn’t. He was too huge.

“Bub, I said- Oh my god,” Logan grew angry, but soon whined as her throat collapsed around his shaft. “Fuck, I can’t hold it, Bub. So damn wet and warm- Fuck,” was all Logan said before his cock twitched.

Y/n couldn't help but look up at Logan to watch him lose himself in her mouth. The main she let out as he spilled into her mouth, made him groan louder, and tighten his grip on her hair.

“Goddamnit, I’m gonna cum again-“ Logan struggled to say as his legs shook, and a second orgasm ripped from him. Y/n’s eyes widen as more cum filled her mouth, so much that his seed leaked out of her mouth. There was too much to take.

“Nah uh, swollen it all, or I make you walk out with it on your face,”

[yelenasbraid]

take a breather — joe burrow

summary — its a few days after the loss to the chiefs and you and joe decide to go out for dinner. unfortunately, there’s kc fans everywhere

warnings — fem!reader, established relationship, reader gets defensive and starts gets in a fight, fluff, some suggestive comments, mean comments, implied smut

note — not every chiefs fan is like the one in this fic, i know that, but for the sake of this fic the reader interacts with a pretty mean one. also this is SO long y’all oops

THE LOSS TO THE CHIEFS was as shocking as it was devastating. for a while, you thought they were safe. you believed that the bengals would win against the chiefs, their longstanding rivalry. joe talked about how excited he was, he talked about how he was ready to take them on after the grueling practice they had.

so, when the chiefs won by one point, everyone’s heart dropped. anger and frustration swirled around in your head, the cold feeling of sadness making it a sour cocktail. it was a good game, filled with many good highlights and great plays, but you knew that joe was already beating himself up about it.

you tried your best to be there for him, reassure him and help build his confidence back up. the night after the game was the hardest, especially since you both were battling intense emotions.

flashback

the silence that fell between you was thick. you tried your best to remain neutral, to be a grounding force for joe. being home didn’t change that.

he didn’t bother speaking to you as he walked in, making a beeline for the stairs. you stopped in your tracks, trying your hardest not to cry.

“please talk to me,” you begged him softly. you knew that joe took things at his own pace, which normally meant alone. you’ve had to help him realize that he’s not alone, and that you could help share the burden.

“i’m not in the mood for talking, y/n,” he informed you, barely looking at you. you bit your lip and flicked your eyes up to the ceiling to stop the oncoming tears.

“do you want anything to eat?” you asked him, walking into the kitchen.

“no, i don’t.” he answered shortly. you nodded, and as he went to go up the stairs, you went to follow him.

“i want to be alone, just leave me alone, y/n,” he snapped, turning his eyes to you, eyes that were iced over. as much as you hated to do it, leaving him to his head, you inhaled and exhaled slowly.

“ok, i’ll be down here if you need me,” you told him, barely evoking a response out of him. so, that was that.

flashback end

joe did apologize for his behavior, swearing he was going to try his best to keep you with him. ever since that night, he’s done just that. he’s confided in you about more than he ever has, and you were proud of him for being vulnerable.

ever since that night, he’s also been clingy. he never wants you to feel the way you felt that night, the way he made you feel.

“we’re going on a date tonight,” joe announced as he walked in the door from practice. you looked up at him from your spot on the couch, raising an eyebrow.

“what?”

“we’re going on a date tonight, you know, the thing normal couples do,” he playfully reminded you. you smirked, putting a bookmark in the book you were reading and closed it. it was refreshing to see his eyes lit up, to see how he glowed with a renewed sense of hope.

“alright, where are we going, ya know, as a totally normal couple?” you played along with the joke, standing up from the couch and walking over to him.

“there’s a nice place downtown, the one we always say we want to go to but never do because of how busy we are,” he excitedly told you. seeing his smile again after the two losses was refreshing, but it also just made you fall even more in love with him.

“oh yeah, the place that apparently has really good burgers,” you smiled up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “you asking me on a date, burrow?”

“why yes i am,” joe chirped. he was chipper, and you knew that he was taking the losses hard, but you also knew that he couldn’t feel down for long. joe knew his job for the next game, and he was going to finish it.

“then i accept,” you smirked, and in response joe leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“good. i’m gonna get a shower, then the bathroom is all yours. we’ll leave around 6,” he told you as he made his way towards the stairs. his timeframe gave you about 2 hours to get ready, which was plenty of time.

“sounds good,” you replied, feeling butterflies build in your gut. despite having dated since your time at lsu, you still got butterflies whenever you and joe would go on a date. you guessed that feeling never goes away.

—

about an hour and half later, joe is dressed and ready sitting on the edge of the bed. you, on the other hand, are putting final touches on your outfit for the evening. it was something breathable, but cute. you put your earrings in and fluffed your hair. once you were happy with your look, you applied your perfume and put on your shoes.

“damn mamas,” joe commented as he watched you emerge from the bathroom. a blush crept up on your cheeks as you walked towards him.

“hope that’s a good thing,” you hummed as he stood up. he was dressed in a black button up, jeans, and platform van-type shoes.

“oh it definitely is,” he mused, leaning down and pressing a soft and quick kiss to your lips. he knew he’s been clingy, but he also knew you didn’t mind. ever since he got snappy with you, he’s never wanted to sound like that ever again. be knew there’d be losses, especially tough ones, but he needed to work on how he processed through it. he couldn’t drag you through the mud too.

“mmm good,” you hummed. it was in that moment you realized that you could stay with him all night, in that bedroom, on that bed and not go on a date. but, dates were rare during the season, and plus dates were fun. you and joey always had fun on your dates.

“we should get going, huh?” joe asked, almost sounding disappointed.

“i’m hungry, so yeah,” you chuckled, making joe crack that beautiful smile of his. you both walked out to the car, joe opening your door of course, and he got in the driver’s seat. he pulled out of the driveway and headed towards the restaurant.

—

the restaurant wasn’t packed, but it had a decent amount of people in it. the hum of conversations drew you in, but what pulled you in further was the sweet smell of food.

you two were quickly seated and ordered your drinks. you looked at the menu, browsing the different options.

“this all looks amazing,” you commented as your eyes saw a pasta section of the menu.

“if i were like, infinitely hungry, i’d get the whole menu,” joe agreed, and you snorted.

“ok, joey,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“what? think about it, if you never got full and have an infinite amount of space in your stomach, you could realistically have several meals in a sitting,” his eyes grew wide with this theory, and you loved whenever he got like this. it was the cutest — and hottest — thing ever, well, for the most part.

“ok, but what about your intestines? they’d be begging for mercy,” you replied as your drinks were settled in front of you. you ordered your choices of meals, gave the waitress your menus, and continued talking.

“ok well in a perfect world they wouldn’t be,” he replied, sass evident in his tone. you laughed, shaking your head as you took a sip of your water.

“i need to pee, i’ll be back,” you informed him, standing up from the booth.

“speaking of intestines,” he commented, earning a glare.

“that’s your bladder,” you whispered as you walked off. joe only rolled his eyes as he sipped his water. he watched as you disappeared into the bathroom, and patiently waited upon your return.

a few minutes later, he caught movement in his peripheral and he flicked his eyes over, hoping to see you. he did, but with a very different expression on your face.

“excuse me?” you seethed, your eyes wide with anger. the girl you were standing in front of had the audacity to speak ill of joe in front of you, but also to speak ill of you. in front of you.

“you heard me the first time, i said your boyfriend would have played better if he’d been getting taken care of at home,” the girl replied. it only enraged you further, especially since she had no right to be involved in yours and joe’s private life.

“and what does your boyfriend do? sit at home and criticize the guys he’ll never be?” your words were just as venomous, your adrenaline driving you even further.

“for all i care, i hope he tears a ligament again. all this hype around joe burrow needs to stop, or maybe he just needs to retire already,” she kept going, and you’ve never seen red before until that moment. this girl had no idea the rehab joe went through, the mental blocks he had to overcome just to get to this point.

words weren’t enough to voice your anger, the rage that fueled you. you laughed, allowing some of that tension to release, but also because you thought it was hilarious some random woman was criticizing joe burrow.

you took a step towards her, your hands curling into fists. you saw what joe went through, you knew of the dark place he went to after his injury. she didn’t, and it pissed you off that she wanted him to go back there again.

“i hope he has another season ending injury, so for once, other teams can have a chance and stop listening to bengals fans’ whining,” she continued on, and the more she did, the more her words added fuel to the fire. it was the final thread in a rubber band, and you snapped.

you shoved her away from you, your eyes hard and angry. you went for another, your muscles tensing to make sure this one hurt, but strong arms pulled you back. you knew it was joe because of his scent wafting over you, but you didn’t much care.

“don’t you dare,” you growled, fighting against the hold joe had on you. your hands tried to pry joe’s arms off of you, but your attempts were futile. what distracted you for just a moment was the feeling of his muscles rippling under his skin as you went to shove him off.

“i bet you got scared when that helmet came off, huh? well, i wasn’t,” she kept mouthing off, and you knew she was doing it on purpose. she wanted to see how far you’d go.

“it’s nice to say that when your team gets paid by the refs to win games!” you hissed, body tensing with every word. neither of you were going to back down, and joe could see that. he’s never seen you this angry, he’s never seen you go after someone like that.

“walk away, love,” he calmly told you, whispering in your ear. he moved to stand beside you, using one arm to hold you place instead of two. you strained against him, anger radiating from every pore. your straining made him eventually wrap his other arm around you again.

“y/n,” he looked down at you, and even though you weren’t trying to plow through him, you weren’t exactly backing down. it was admirable, really, how you went to war for him. you didn’t have to, but you did. you would defend him until your dying breath, even though he never asked for that. he just didn’t want you to get hurt.

“listen to your boyfriend y/n, this is a fight you’d lose anyway,”

“you’re not helping,” joe snapped, turning his eyes towards the girl. she didn’t seem to get the memo, not entirely caring that joe was addressing her. you, however, did notice. the way his jaw was clenched, the way his muscles were contracted, it was hot.

“why’s that?” you retaliated, anger still coursing through your veins. joe was trying to keep you from getting away from him. it wasn’t helping that the other girl kept moving towards you.

“because, unlike your boyfriend, you’re too pussy to fight anyone,” she was so confident it killed you. you managed to slip out of joe’s grasp, lunging for this girl, but joe caught you by the bicep. he drew you back, pressed a firm hand to your chest and walked you back.

“that’s enough,” he sternly told you, thankful you were walking with him. your eyes flicked to meet his, just for a moment, and in that moment you were the most turned on you’d been that whole day. feeling his hand firmly but gently guide you back, hearing the sternness in his words, it made that all too familiar ache begin to take hold in your stomach.

that feeling didn’t last long though. your irritation and anger came back the second you made eye contact with the girl again, wearing that obnoxious red jersey. you wanted to say something back to the girl, but no words were coming to your mind. your emotions were all over the place as joe walked you back. you watched the girl as her own group walked her away. they should’ve done that earlier.

you two left the restaurant, and once you were alone, you slipped away from joe’s grip.

“what the hell was that?” joe asked, now facing you, “i have never seen you that angry,”

“you heard what she said! she-she was saying all of these things about you, about how she wished you snapped your ligament again and retired! i couldn’t just let that slide!” you argued back, your adrenaline still on a high.

“you could have! people say stupid shit!”

“i saw what you went through! i’ve seen you rise above it, i’ve seen you grow and to have her laugh in the face of that is disgusting!” you defended, tears now pooling in your eyes. you watched as he processed, and you felt a tear drip down your cheek. there was a beat of silence. joe sighed, walked up to you and wiped the escaped tear with the pad of his thumb.

“you didn’t have to defend me, but, thank you for doing so. as much as i appreciate it, and don’t mind at all seeing you get fired up, i just don’t want you to get hurt,” he hummed, cupping your cheek with his hand. you sniffled, feeling your body crash from the adrenaline rush.

“i know,” you exhaled, “but next time we play the chiefs, we need to pummel them into the ground,” you sniffled, and joe just chuckled, bringing you into his arms.

“we will,” he promised, kissing the top of your head, “were you really scared when my helmet came off?” he asked, and you looked up at him in disbelief.

“yes, i was terrified,” you admitted, burying your head in his chest. you knew the likely hood of a concussion increased just because he played football, but you knew how scary they were. you’ve heard of too many players who’s seasons ended because of a concussion, or even worse, their lives ended.

“i’m ok, i promise,” he assured you. as he held you, his remembered the look you gave him earlier in the restaurant.

“what was that look for earlier?” he asked.

“what look?” you mumbled against his chest.

“that look, the look you give whenever you’re feeling a certain way,” he answered, causing you to part from him. he didn’t miss it, how could he? he’s seen that look several times before, but he’s never seen it in this context.

“oh…”

“oh what?” he chuckled, watching as your cheeks flushed.

“it’s nothing, just pure emotion,” you lied. you were feeling a number of things, and arousal was just one of them.

“you liked that, huh?” joe gave you a cocky smirk, the kind that could get you into trouble. his tone didn’t help either.

“oh leave me alone,” you playfully shoved him, walking towards the car. he wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing the side of your head.

“i would be lying if i said i wasn’t also turned on,” he hummed in your ear, breaking the hard exterior you had on.

“is that so?” you mused, casting a look up at him, “remember how it feels to not be sore, love, because after tonight you will be,” you hummed, your eyes darkening with desire. your tone sent him into overdrive, not to mention your confidence. he wasn’t sure if he was going to make it home or not. he wouldn’t be necessarily complaining if he didn’t.

he was in for a long night.

YOWZERS this is long. not sure how i feel about it BUT it’s probably the longest one i’ve written, so c’est la vie. but what inspired this was joe holding back ja’marr at the game on sunday and i went crazy with it. enjoy!

[imyourbratzdoll]

I crave a good fluffy fic with wolverine, his wife is a badass and when someone threatens him she loses her shit and kicks their ass🫡 with so much disrespect.

hey baby, I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy what I did, it's a bit more violent than you probably wanted.

summary - a dumb 'bad guy' lures you and your husband out, things take an escalated turn when he threatens your husband.

warning - SUPER violent, like extreme level probably, swearing, mentions of sex, dude talks of touching what's his but nothing triggering, dick and balls suffer rip.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You couldn’t believe this guy, he was really threatening your husband right in front of you. Thinking he was all tough because he could throw fire or some shit? You didn’t know what he could do, except talk a lot of shit. That was probably his power. What was his name again? Captain Talks Shit? Shits A lot? Little Fucker? Who cares, all you care about right now is that he’s threatening your man. 

You walk out of the shadows, having heard enough because honestly. Why do the bad guys always talk for so long? Have none of them realised or picked up from past bad guys mistakes? It was tiring and a waste of your time because you and Logan could’ve been gone by now, screwing each other silly, probably somewhere extremely risky. But, noooo. You had to listen to this jackass.

“Listen, dick licker. If you don’t stop threatening my fucking husband. I’m going to rip your arm off and beat you with it.” You growl, moving to stand in front of Logan. (Sure, he would have protected himself and it may look weak to the other guy that a woman is standing in front of an extremely large man, in more ways than one, wink wink. But you happen to know that this turns your husband on and who are you to deny him his fantasies?)

“Is that a threat?” Captain Dipshit sneers.

“Did it sound like a fucking compliment, Princess?” You watch as he eyes you, sizing you up and in his mind he’s probably thinking ‘yeah, I can take this chick.’ You hope his ego deflates before you kill him.

“Listen, Babe. This is between us men, now why don’t you run along and go make us a sandwich or something. Maybe put on some cute lingerie and wait for me in the bedroom ‘cause once I’m done with your husband here. You’ll be creamin’ around me.”

Logan shakes his head, stepping way back. He remembered when he accidentally said something similar and he was in a coma for a whole month, not even his fast healing could help him. 

It was like a switch turning on, the beast that lived within you had been released from its cage and not even God could save this man now. You stalked towards him, he still smirked thinking he was safe. You jump, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting, bringing him down using a move your good friend Natasha had taught you. You move swiftly while he is down, sending a harsh kick to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose and possibly jaw breaking. You grab him by his hair and lift him, a large grin covering your face as you bring him eye level with you. 

“You wanna repeat that, Princess?” You bring him closer, whispering in his ear. “How bout you go make me a sandwich, put on a cute set and I’ll bash your dick in with a baseball bat. How do ya like the sound of that? Cause I love it.” 

He struggles within your grip, trying to swing at you but with your other hand that isn’t gripping his hair. You snap his arms, relishing in the sound of bones breaking. His screams echo the warehouse, dumbarse had lured us in here without a backup plan or backup. 

You let go of your grip on his hair, immediately switching to gripping his throat instead. “You don’t like my plan, Princess? Rethinking the whole thing? Cause ya already pissed me off by threatening the man I love, but then you had the balls to say THAT? Tell me, Princess. Just between us girls. Did mummy not give you any hugs as a kid? Cause how did you think this was gonna go? You could’ve ‘killed’ the Wolverine, but he wouldn’t have stayed dead. No. But if he heard you touching me, touching what’s HIS. He would’ve torn you to shreds, but slowly. Very slowly. It’s what makes me love him.” You pat the man’s cheek, grinning as he winces. 

“How bout an apology and I won’t kill you.”

“F–fuck you.” He spits at you, SPITS. Not even clear fucking spit, this shit has blood in it. You lift your hand, wiping the spit with the back of it and then onto his clothes. 

Your face screwed up. “Well, that was stupid.” With quick movements, you throw him, watching him crash into a wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Your hand reaches out and a bat flies into it. “You’re not wearing that cute set and I don’t have a sandwich, but this will do.” He tries to shuffle away, his eyes wide. You stalk toward him and swing, smashing his dick and balls with one hit. Think Superman merged with Hulk strength, how do you think his twig and berries did?

A scream rips out of his mouth before his eyes roll back and he falls backwards. You frown and poke him with your bat. “Hey mista, you dead?” You look at Logan, “Bitch passed out.” He shakes his head at the pout on your lips. 

He walks over and places a kiss on your head, “C’mon, let’s go home now or better yet. You ready to do something real risky, Sweets.” Your eyes light up.

“Do you mean…?!”

Logan nods, smirking. “I’ll finally let you fuck me while I drive.” Your squeals escape as you jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.

“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for!” And with that, Logan carries you out as you stare at him dreamily.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[boothillzvhs]

·˚ [featuring] !! ' ᵇᵒᵒᵗʰⁱˡˡ ˣ ᶠᵗᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ !

cw — ftm!reader. dom!boothill. bondage, fingering, praising, squirting, blindfold sex, dub-con, t4t sex :3

౨ৎ....................................................................................................................౨ৎ

“you're doin' so well for me sugar.. ” 

he praised, rubbing your inner thigh as you rode his strap, kissing you all over for taking him so well "mmh...b-boothill..its too..big...!" you squirmed, trying to get used to the size "we can change the size if ya' want sweetie.." boothill said, his voice laced with concern.

"n-no no..its fine, don't worry, It just hurts..' you rested your head on his shoulder, his hand caressing your hair, "givin' up already ?" you nodded, "ill give you a bit of help.. 'kay ?" he kissed your forehead, starting slowing, he slid a finger inside "ah..! boothill~!" he shushed you "shh.. its okay baby, try loosing up a bit.." he kissed your forehead.

"hah..feels good.." he smirked at your remark "oh..?~ it does, doesn't it sugar?" he chuckled a bit, caressing your face with his thumb, your arms held in place with the rope he usually doesn't use during sex.

your vision blocked by a blindfold, and your legs bonded together, "how you holdin' up sugar? " he asked when he heard a sharp gasp coming from you, caressing your cheek, "I'm goin' to add another finger in 'kay? tell me to stop if its to much sweetheart." he kissed you before adding another finger "mmh..i_i'm ..f-fine.." you rasped "atta' boy.." he curled his fingers up to that spot you love so much.

boothill feels like he’s about to burst, he NEEDS you to beg him to never stop “ah… ah boothill, mhng!” Spit drippin' from the corners of your lips, "does this spot right here feel good babes ?" he grinned, curling his fingers up onto your g spot "hah....mhh...y-yah... it feels so good..." you said with tears running down your cheeks, he nodded, sliding a third finger inside you.

"too much??" he asked "everything's 'kay..i_i think I'm ready..please put it in.." you begged, "alright babe, if ya' say so, just tell me when yer' close 'kay?" he rubbed your arm in a comforting way, lining himself up to your hole, slowly sliding the tip in "take it easy prince...just let yourself get used to it 'kay?.." he kissed your nape.

"haaahh...boot..hill" your eyes shut close when he grinded into your g-spot, your body quivered, he chuckled "good..good boy.." you couldn't take it anymore !! "boothill..! please... fuck me..!" you cried out, "so eager!" he barked out a laugh, flashing his sharp teeth " of course..anything for you prince.." he said, flipping on your back, then plunging deep himself into you, earning a loud moan from you.

"uhaah!!" a moan ripped from your throat, "nng..ah.. you look so beautiful underneath me like this, suger..." "mo-more!! please..!! more!!" you plead. "shh..your doing so well for me.." he purred in your ear seductively, a whine escaping your lips, too fucked out to give a answer, "m' goin'.. fuck ya..' so good you won't be walkin' for days" he says, your body trembled, and your walls clinched around him.

"ooh..? gonna cum..?" he asked, all ready knowing the answer, "I want cha' to let go, give me a big one..~" he whispered in your ear, "nnH..!! I-im going to cum, I-its to much!!~" you said, "nngh!!" you arched your back, as you twitched uncontrollably, coming all over boothill and the sheets.

"good boy.." he purred, licking his lips, kissing you on the forehead, drool dripping from your mouth, your eyes fluttering close, but he woke you up with a slap on your thigh "who said we were done??" he grinned, patting your cheek, a couple more rounds won't hurt right ?? >:3

[twitchmattentusiast]

( twitchmattenthusiasts kinktober ! )

“ SOME HOCUS POCUS TYPE SHIT. “

pairings. enemies to lovers + brothers bsf!matt.

warnings. body switching, spells, spanking, bondage, use of toys. switch matt x oc but mostly sub!matt tbh. slight mommy kink major daddy kink.

EXTRA warning: this is kinky as shit, so be warned! oc and matt are ENEMY enemies, so them having sex is going to be rough as fuck and they’re going to take their frustration out on each other, so um, this is your warning! it’s an oc just because i felt it made more sense! 

“this is stupid as shit.”

"you’re stupid as shit." matt instantly shoots back.

bianca rolls her eyes, crossing her arms as she trails behind matt. she’s annoyed as shit right now. if she's being honest, she didn't even want to come to this stupid escape room in the first place, but chris and nate wouldn't get off her back and begged her to come, promising she wouldn't be anywhere near matt, but of course it's just her luck that she's lost her best friends and her brother and has ended up with matt. 

matt rolls his eyes dramatically as bianca goes on yet another rant about how this is her worst freaking nightmare ever. “oh my god, can you shut the fuck up for once? it’s not like i want to be stuck here with your annoying ass either. let’s just find the fucking clues and get out of here already.”

he turns back towards the room, scanning the walls and shelves for anything that might help them escape. “stop fucking whining and actually look for something useful, would you? the sooner we get out of here, the better. i’m tired of being stuck with a fucking brat like you.”

bianca scoffs, following behind matt as he walks into a room. "are you fucking kidding me?" she yells. "i’m the one who's been looking for clues; all you've done is fuckin stand there and text your stupid hoes instead of actually doing shit!”

matt ignores bianca’s bitchy comment, continuing to browse through the various items scattered around the room. he picks up a small vial filled with clear liquid, examining it closely before setting it back down again.

“whatever," he mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. “keep being a little bitch about everything."

“you’re an asshole, you know that?”

matt shrugs nonchalantly, not bothering to hide his smirk. “so what if i am? at least i’m not some uptight bitch like you."

he moves further into the room, poking around shelves and drawers with little regard for their contents. his gaze lands on a collection of old, dusty bottles, and he starts to grab them, examining each one curiously.

“what the fuck is this shit?" he asks, holding up a bottle with strange symbols etched onto its surface. “looks like some kind of potion or something."

bianca shrugs, looking down at her nails. “probably fake or somethi-“ she’s cut off when matt suddenly opens the bottle and starts sticking his nose in it. “what the fuck are you doing?”

"chill the fuck out, will ya?" matt retorts, ignoring bianca’s warning.

“it’s probably just some lame-ass decoration or something." he sniffs the contents of the bottle, wrinkling his nose at the strong scent. “that smells weird as fuck.”

bianca rolls her eyes, watching as matt continues to mess around with the strange bottles. she lets out an exasperated sigh, clearly growing more impatient by the second.

"you’re such a dumbass sometimes, you know that?" she huffs, shaking her head in disbelief. "put those things down before you break something valuable, yeah?"

matt tosses the bottle aside carelessly, not giving a flying fuck about bianca’s complaints. “relaxx, princess. it’s not like i’m gonna break anything important."

his gaze falls upon another bottle, this one filled with a dark, murky liquid. curiosity getting the better of him, matt unscrews the cap and takes a long swig directly from the container. “tastes like cheap vodka," he remarks with a smirk, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “not bad for some ancient relic shit."

“there’s actually no way you just drank that shit.” bianca complains, looking at matt in total disgust. 

matt shrugs, ignoring the looks of disgust she shoots him. he runs his fingers along another set of bottles. picking a white one up, he twists the lid, holding it close to his nose as he takes another whiff. “you’ll like this one b.” he tells her, holding the bottle out to her, "smells like malibu.”

“malibu?” bianca asks curiously. she appears right behind matt, looking down at the bottle. malibu being her favorite drink. 

matt grins slyly, noticing bianca’s interest “yeah, smells just like it. too bad it's probably not the real deal or you'd be sucking this shit down like a champ, huh?"

bianca snatches the bottle from matt’s hand, uncapping it quickly and bringing it to her nose. her eyes widen in delight as the familiar scent fills her nostrils.

"see, i told ya it smelled like the good stuff." matt smirks, watching bianca eagerly sniff the bottle.

"go ahead and take a shot, princess. live a little for once in your life." he gestures for her to drink it, a mischievous glint in his eye. “unless you're too much of a pussy to handle it." he taunts, knowing full well how competitive bianca is.

“cmonn, i dare ya." matt pushes, wanting to see if she'll rise to the challenge. “drink it all down like a good girl." he goads, egging her on relentlessly.

bianca hesitates for a moment, her competitive nature warring with her common sense. but the allure of the familiar scent and taste proves too tempting to resist. with a defiant glare at matt, she tilts her head back and pours the mysterious liquid straight down her throat.

bianca gasps, her face contorting in surprise as the potent liquor burns its way down her throat. “fuck that shits strong.” she coughs, sputtering as she tries to catch her breath.

but despite the initial shock, bianca can't deny the thrill that courses through her veins. she feels a rush of excitement at pushing past her limits. "guess you were right about it tasting like malibu,"

matt chuckles, enjoying every moment of bianca’s discomfort. “see? told ya it wasn't so bad."

his gaze drifts over to the other containers still untouched on the shelf. picking up another bottle, he examines it carefully before opening it and taking a deep sniff.

“matt that literally says ‘do not touch’”

matt waves off bianca’s concern with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “relax, it's probably just some stupid warning label.”

he rolls his eyes as bianca shoots him a look. “cmon, bianca what’s the worst that could happen?”

bianca scowls, crossing her arms over her chest. "i don't know, maybe we get turned into frogs or something?"

her words come out more sarcastic than genuinely worried, but there's a hint of unease beneath the surface.

with a careless shrug, matt pops open the bottle and brings it to his lips, not caring about the consequences. “cmon b don’t be such a pussy."

bianca rolls her eyes. as she reaches for it, a strange sensation washes over her—a tingling warmth spreading from her fingertips up her arm. it’s just for a moment though, and it goes completely unnoticed as bianca takes a long chug of bottle like matt did.

“happy now?” she asks, sarcastically handing matt the bottle.

before matt can even respond, a man suddenly appears out of nowhere. staring at the both of them curiously. “did you drink that?”

bianca opens her mouth about to reply when matt speaks first. "nahh,” he says, lying smoothly. “just lookin at em.”

the stranger narrows his eyes suspiciously at matt’s denial, clearly not buying it, but doesn’t say anything else. he nods his head towards bianca, who’s standing really close to matt because the guys are honestly freaking her the fuck out right now. “you two are from that group, aren’t you?” 

“umm . . . yeah.?”

the stranger nods his head. “interesting,” he says. “you two get along?”

matt snorts at the question, shaking his head. "hardly. this bitch here thinks she's queen of everything, always trying to tell me what to do."

bianca bristles at his harsh words, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “shut up, matt!" she spits back, her voice venomous. “at least i’m not a complete asshole!"

the stranger watches them with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

the stranger clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him. “you wish he could step into your shoes sometimes huh? to see what you have to deal with?” he asks bianca curiously.

“oh all the time!” she instantly replies.

the stranger smiles. he shoots matt one last glance before turning around. “i think i know where your group is if you want to follow me.”

matt and bianca are instantly hot on his heels.

it’s been two hours now since the group left the escape room. they’re all at nate and bianca’s, chilling in their living rooms as the triplets are planning to spend the night.

bianca gets up from the couch, stretching her arms as an yawn escapes. “gonna head to bed,” she tells nate. her brother nodding her head and wishing her a good night. “night,” she says, rolling her eyes as matt flips her off.

she heads to her room, instantly jumping into her bed and turning the lights off. more than ready to welcome sleep. today had been a longgg day.

bianca groans, still half asleep, as she moves around the bed. she moves her arms, and her arms hit the back of someone. she sits up in confusion, wondering what the fuck chris is doing in her room. suddenly needing something to drink, bianca quickly shuffles out the room.

she moves down the stairs, her body feeling suddenly really heavy. she’s still half asleep until she stops in the hallway mirror and freezes as she sees matt staring back at her. “what the fuck?” she exclaims, and her eyes are wide as matt’s deep voice fills her ears. she moves her hand around in confusion, thinking it’s a nightmare or her mind is playing tricks on her, but matters follows her back in the mirror.

with wide eyes, bianca quickly moves up the stairs and dashes straight to her room, where she finds herself sleeping peacefully on her bed. only it’s not her, it’s matt.

matt starts to stir slightly as bianca moves around the room. “bianca?” matt says, rubbing his eyes slightly. he’s instantly confused as he realises he’s in bianca’s room. he’s even more confused when he removes his fingers and finds a fresh manicure set on his nails. “what the fuck?!” matt exclaims as he looks up and finds his own body staring at him.

matt blinks rapidly, struggling to comprehend the bizarre situation unfolding before him. his gaze darts between his own body standing there in shock and the unfamiliar female form he now inhabits.

“what the actual fuck?" he mutters under his breath, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. “this isn't possible..."

he swings his legs over the side of the bed, standing up gingerly as if testing whether this reality is indeed real. matt’s hands instinctively move to cover his chest, feeling the soft swell of breasts beneath the thin fabric of bianca’s tank top.

“did . . . did you do this?" he demands accusingly, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at his former self. “is this some kind of sick joke?"

“you think i did this?” bianca exclaims. “i didn’t fucking do shit!”

“well, it sure as fuck wasn't me!" matt retorts defensively, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he's now in a woman's body. "so how the fuck did this happen?"

bianca crosses her arms over her chest, her expression a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. "i don’t know, okay? maybe it was those weird drinks at the escape room or that creepy guy who showed us the way back. but whatever it was, i didn't do it!"

“this is insane bianca.” matt exclaims. “some hocus pocus shit!”

bianca rolls her eyes dramatically. "spare me the dramatics," she says. "we need to focus on getting back to our own bodies and-“ she pauses as she watches matt stand in front of the mirror, smirking as he moves bianca’s hands over her tits. well, technically matt’s hands since he’s in her body, but-

“what are you doing!”

matt chuckles lowly, his eyes never leaving his reflection in the mirror as he continues to explore his new feminine curves. “just seeing what i’ve got here," he says nonchalantly, giving one of bianca’s breasts a light squeeze through the thin material of her tank top. bianca glares at him, and matt chuckles.

“oh, come on, b, i’m a guy, of course i’m going to want to touch some tits,“ he pauses as he turns around, smirking when he looks down at bianca-well himself. “holy shit, you’re hard!” he laughs.

bianca’s face flushes bright red as she stammers, unable to look away from the obvious bulge in her shorts. "shut up! it’s not like i wanted this to happen!" she protests weakly, crossing her arms over her chest again in a futile attempt to hide her embarrassment.

matt lets out a low whistle, his smirk growing wider as he takes in the sight of his own erection straining against bianca’s shorts. “admit it, b. this is kinda hot, isn't it? being in each other's skin, touching ourselves..." his hand reaches out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips grazing her cheek. “we could have some fun with this..."

bianca swats his hand away, her cheeks burning with a mix of anger and arousal. "don’t get any ideas, pervert!" she snaps, but her voice wavers slightly. she can't deny the thrill of exploring her own body through matt’s eyes, the forbidden excitement of being touched by another person - especially her sworn enemy.

matt’s grin widens at bianca’s reaction, sensing her inner turmoil. he steps closer, invading her personal space as he leans in to whisper in her ear. “come on, b, don’t pretend you're not curious. we’re stuck like this for god knows how long... might as well make the most of it."

“you did say you wanted me to see what it’s like to be in your shoes. why don’t you be in my shoes and be me?”

bianca smirks suddenly. “you want me to act like you?”

matt nods eagerly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "you act like me," he says, trailing his manicured fingers down his own chest, which feels weird as shit but strangely excites matt and bianca’s body, "and i’ll act like you.”

bianca raises an eyebrow skeptically. "fine, you're on." she steps back and folds her arms across her chest, mimicking matt’s typical stance.

matt stares at her in confusion, waiting for her to do something. when suddenly bianca pushes him against the wall. matt gasps, feeling the weight of his own body being strange but oddly arousing as bianca reaches down to choke matt with his own hands. 

“what the fuck?” he manages to gasp out, despite the strangling pressure. but instead of fighting back, matt’s hips involuntarily buck forward, grinding against bianca's buldge. “fuck, b, that's...not bad actually."

bianca releases the chokehold and smirks down at matt, her chest heaving. "like that, huh?" she purrs.

matt nods, panting lightly as he looks up at bianca through hooded eyes. “yeah, keep going," he urges, biting his lip.

bianca smirks. “you know matt...” she trails as she pushes a strand of his hair behind his ear. “you’ve been a really bad boy these last few months. always complaining, talking back to me, and shit, and you knew i couldn’t do anything when i was in my body, but since i’m in your body, i can treat you like the slut you are, huh, baby?”

matt swallows thickly, his breath catching in his throat as bianca leans in close, her words dripping with seductive menace. “fuck," *he whispers, squirming under her intense gaze. “do your worst, princess."

bianca grins wickedly before spinning matt around to face the mirror. she positions herself behind him, pressing her clothed body against his backside as her hands roam over his tits and stomach. "look at yourself, matty," she coos, her hot breath tickling his ear. "such a pretty little thing, aren't you?"

her fingers deftly unbutton his shorts and slip inside, running softly against her wet cunt "mmm, so wet already," she murmurs approvingly. "guess being in my body and getting treated like a whore turns you on doesn’t it?”

matt whimpers, his hips bucking into bianca’s touch as her fingers tease along his soaked slit. "yes, fuck, just like that," he moans shamelessly, his eyes locked onto their reflection. the sight of bianca’s hand disappearing into his shorts, coupled with the delicious friction against his clit, sends jolts of pleasure coursing through his borrowed body.

"please, b, more," he begs, his voice high-pitched and needy. In this moment, he's completely surrendered to the sensations, to the taboo thrill of being used by his mortal enemy while trapped in her skin.

bianca chuckles darkly, revelling in matt’s desperation. she pulls her hand out of his shorts and brings her slick fingers to his lips. "open up, slut," she commands, smearing his juices across his mouth. "taste how much you want this."

matt obediently sucks her digits clean, keeping eye contact as he does so. bianca and walks to the bed, sitting down on it and patting her lap for matt to sit on. 

matt saunters over to bianca, swaying his hips seductively as he settles himself on her lap, straddling her thighs. he grinds down against her, relishing the friction of their clothed sexes rubbing together.

“‘s this what you want, princess?" he purrs, draping his arms around her neck. “for me to be your little toy?" matt captures her lips in a filthy kiss, his tongue delving deep to taste himself on her mouth. he rocks his hips faster, chasing the building pleasure, desperate for more.

breaking the kiss with a gasp, matt rests his forehead against hers, panting heavily. “use me," he breathes. “make me yours." he says whining exactly how he imagines bianca does.

bianca flips their positions, pinning matt beneath her on the bed. she looms over him, drinking in the debauched sight of his flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. "gonna ruin you, baby," she promises darkly, hooking her fingers in his waistband and tugging his shorts down his legs. her gaze rakes hungrily over his exposed flesh, lingering on the glistening pink folds of his bare cunt.

matt gasps as bianca tears off his shorts, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. he writhes beneath her domineering presence, craving more of her rough touches. his pussy throbs with need, visibly swollen and aching to be filled.

“you’ve wanted this forever,” matt challenges with a sultry smirk. “to have me completely at your mercy.”’he reaches up to grasp bianca’s face, pulling her in for another searing kiss, his hips rolling upwards to grind against her.

“take what you want,”

bianca smirks, as she reaches into her bedside table to grab a vibrator matt watches as she sticks it in his pussy, jolting slightly as it turns on. matt instantly moans. no wonder girls like this shit. 

matt lets out a guttural moan as the buzzing sensation washes over him, his back arching off the bed. his eyes roll back, lids fluttering shut in ecstasy. he begins to ride the vibrator with wild abandon, his hips jerking erratically to meet each thrust.

“ohh fuck” he cries out, sounding eerily like bianca.

matt's entire demeanor shifts, adopting bianca’s sassy tone and confident air. he spreads his legs further apart, as if eager to show off the pleasure he's experiencing. jis hands move to grip the sheets, knuckles white with tension.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum," he warns, voice breathless and husky. “don’t stop, please..."

bianca keeps the vibrator going strong, watching intently as matt’s orgasm builds. she leans down, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss as he starts to shake and twitch beneath her. when he finally comes undone, bianca drinks in every moan and whimper, feeling the ripples of his climax against the vibrator.

bianca keeps the vibrator on and matt’s eyes widen. she pulls down matt’s boxers. “you gonna be a good girl and suck my cock?”

now bianca was joking. when matt said that she should act like her she took it as a joke, but surprise etches onto a face and a smirk forms when matt whines bucking his (her) hips in the air as he says “yes daddy.”

now bianca was joking. when matt said that she should act like her, she took it as a joke, but surprise etches onto a face, and a smirk forms when matt whines, bucking his (her) hips in the air as he says, “yes, daddy.”

bianca’s cock starts to sit even more uncomfortably, matt’s words making her harder. turns out a girl lying there spreading her legs open turns a guy like matt on a lot.

bianca grabs matt’s chin firmly, forcing him to look up at her as she strokes her hardening cock. "open wide, bitch," she growls, her voice dripping with dominance.

matt parts his lips obediently, submitting to bianca’s demands. she presses the tip of her dick against his mouth, teasing him with the salty flavor of pre-cum. "take it all," bianca commands, pushing forward until her cock fills matt’s mouth completely.

matt starts bobbing his head, sucking lewdly on bianca’s cock. he hollows his cheeks and swirls his tongue around the sensitive head, coaxing out more precum to swallow. the vibrator continues to buzz insistently between matt’s legs, prolonging his aftershocks and keeping him intensely aroused.

matt takes bianca’s cock greedily, swallowing around the thick girth stretching his jaw. he hums in approval, sending delicious vibrations along bianca’s length. matt looks up through his lashes, gazing adoringly at bianca as he worships her dick with his mouth.

the combination of sensations - the vibrator still buried in his cunt, the weight of bianca’s cock heavy on his tongue - is overwhelming. tears prick at the corners of matt’s eyes from the effort of deep-throating bianca, but he doesn't relent. he wants to please her completely, to feel her release coating his throat.

matt grips bianca’s thighs for support as he picks up the pace, sucking hard and fast. his pussy leaks into the sheets “fuck daddy”

bianca smirks, her cock pulsing in matt’s mouth as he calls her 'daddy'. she grips his hair tighter, guiding his head up and down her cock. "that’s right, baby," she purrs. "such a good little slut for daddy."

the degrading words only seem to spur matt on further. he sucks harder, hollowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue around bianca’s sensitive cock. lewd slurping noises fill the room as spit dribbles down his chin.

bianca’s balls tighten, signaling her release. she holds matt’s head steady, fucking his face with quick, shallow thrusts. "you gonna swallow every drop like a good girl?”

matt whimpers around bianca’s cock, nodding frantically in response. he can taste the impending orgasm, the tang of salt mingling with the musk of arousal. as bianca’s thrusts become erratic, matt opens wide, letting her flood his mouth with her cum

he swallows convulsively, gulping down every thick rope of cum. some escapes past his lips, trickling down his chin to join the mess on the sheets below. matt’s own pussy clenches around the vibrator, milking it for all it's worth as he savors the taste of bianca’s release.

bianca pulls out of matt’s mouth with a wet pop, smirking down at the debauched sight before her. matt’s lips are swollen and slick with saliva and cum, his hair mussed from bianca’s rough handling. she traces a finger along his jawline, gathering some of the stray drops and bringing them to his lips.

“clean yourself up, slut," bianca commands, pressing her finger into matt’s mouth. he obeys without hesitation, lapping at her digit with his skilled tongue until it's spotless.

satisfied, bianca withdraws her hand and stands up, admiring how matt looks spread out on the bed - flushed and needy, his pussy glistening with arousal. she trails a hand down his chest, tweaking a nipple roughly before continuing lower.

“you wanna come again?" she teases. she’s half surprised that she’s managing to play the role of matt so well. and also even more surprised that he’s even letting her it’s almost too suspicious if she’s being honest.

matt whines softly, his body craving more stimulation. he nods eagerly, his gaze locked onto bianca’s hand as it inches closer to his soaked folds.

“yes, please... daddy..." he whispers, the word slipping out unbidden once more. matt bites his lip, blushing furiously at his own submission. but the desire coursing through him overrides any embarrassment.

bianca’s fingers brush against his sensitive clit, making matt gasps and buck his hips. he’s painfully aware of the vibrator still buried inside him, the constant thrumming driving him wild with need.

“i want... i need..." matt trails off, unable to articulate exactly what he craves. all he knows is that he's never felt so desperate, so consumed by lust.

bianca chuckles darkly, amused by matt’s desperation. she circles his clit with a finger, applying just enough pressure to make him squirm. "tell me what you need, baby," she coaxes, leaning down to whisper hotly in his ear. "i’ll give it to you."

matt whimpers, his body trembling under her touch. "please... use your fingers... fuck me with them..." he begs, his voice barely above a whisper. "make me come, daddy..."

bianca smirks, pleased by matt’s complete surrender. she slides two fingers into his soaked pussy, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside him. matt cries out, his back arching off the bed as pleasure crashes over him.

“that’s it, take it," bianca purrs, pumping her fingers in and out of matt’s clenching heat.

matt's mind goes blank, overwhelmed by the intense sensation of bianca’s fingers violating his most intimate space. he’s never felt so full, so stretched, and yet it's precisely what he needs.

“fuck, yes!" he chants, his hips rocking to meet bianca’s thrusts. the vibrator continues to buzz away, adding another layer of stimulation that threatens to push him over the edge.

“daddy, ‘m... i’m gonna..." matt’s words trail off into incoherent moans as bianca’s fingers find that magic spot inside him again and again. his walls flutter and clench, trying to milk her digits for all they're worth.

with a keening wail, matt’s orgasm hits him like a freight train. his vision whites out, his body convulsing as wave after wave of ecstasy rips through him.

bianca smirks seeing matt whimper as she removes the vibrator. she takes a minute to admire how fucked out matt looks already without actually being fucked, and then without warning, she flips matt over, leaving him on his stomach and pointing his ass up in the air as she quickly lines up behind him. 

matt gasps as he feels bianca’s hard cock pressing against his entrance, stretching him open. he clutches at the sheets beneath him, his knuckles turning white as he tries to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

“fuckk... so big..." he groans, feeling impossibly full. matt rocks his hips back tentatively, relishing the burn of the stretch.

the new position allows bianca to fuck him even deeper, hitting places inside him that matt didn't know could feel so good. he lets out a strangled moan, his face buried in the pillow to muffle the sound.

“more ... please, daddy... fuck me harder..." matt pleads shamelessly, completely lost to the pleasure consuming him. he clenches around bianca’s cock, urging her to move faster, deeper, anything to satisfy the aching need building within him once more.

matt’s moans start to grow louder. “shut the fuck up!” bianca hisses, spanking matt’s ass. “you don’t want nate to hear us, do you? don’t want your brothers to walk in and see you getting fucked like a slut? you gotta be quiet, matt.”

matt yelps at the sharp slap, his cheeks burning with a mix of pain and arousal. he immediately clamps his mouth shut, biting back a scream as bianca continues to pound into him relentlessly.

panting heavily, matt nods frantically, his mind racing with the taboo scenario bianca just painted. the thought of getting caught by nate or chris while being used so thoroughly sends a thrill straight to his core.

he struggles to contain himself, to stifle the noises bubbling up from deep within his throat. it’s a losing battle, however, as bianca’s merciless pace pushes him closer and closer to the brink once more.

“p-please... can't... hold it..." matt manages to choke out between gritted teeth, his entire body tensing as another climax approaches.

"that's right, you're gonna cum on my dick like a good little whore," bianca snarls, grabbing a fistful of matt's hair and yanking his head back. "and you're gonna do it quietly, got it?"

matt whimpers, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes from the pain in his scalp. but he nods vigorously, desperate to please.

tears stream down matt’s face as bianca holds him in place, her brutal grip on his hair sending jolts of pain through his skull. but even through the discomfort, he can feel the familiar tightening in his gut, the telltale signs that he's teetering on the edge once more.

"yes, daddy... please... i’ll be good, i promise..." matt whimpers, his voice choked with emotion. he squeezes his eyes shut, focusing every ounce of willpower on containing his screams as the pressure builds to a crescendo.

with a low, broken moan, matt’s orgasm rips through him, his inner walls clamping down around bianca’s pistoning cock. his whole body shakes with the force of it, every muscle locked rigid as pleasure floods his senses.

bianca shoots her cun right into him, and matt moans as she starts to fuck it into him. bianca pulls out, and before she can even register what’s happening, matt pushes her so he’s on top.

“my turn,” he smirks, reaching into the drawer to pull out some handcuffs and intensely moving to cuff them to bianca and her bed.

bianca’s eyes are wide. how the fuck did he even know they were there? 

a triumphant grin spreads across matt’s face as he secures bianca’s wrists above her head, the metal cuffs cold against her skin. he steps back to admire their positions, a sense of dominance washing over him now that the tables have turned.

“what?” he asks, smirking as bianca gapes at him. “we said that you’d act like me and i’d act like you, and well, it’s my time to act like you, baby.”

bianca glares at matt, trying to look unimpressed despite her heart pounding in her chest. "oh really? and what exactly does that mean?" she sneers, trying to sound unaffected despite the way her cock is starting to harden.

she squirms slightly in the restraints, testing them. they hold firm. damn it.

matt chuckles darkly, enjoying the sight of bianca struggling futilely against her bonds. he saunters closer, running a finger along her jawline with a possessive touch.

"it means," he purrs, leaning in to whisper hotly in her ear, "you’re going to be a good boy for mommy hm?”

"fuck off, matt." bianca spits, trying to keep her voice steady despite the heat spreading through her body at his words and touch. she tries to jerk her hands free again but the cuffs dig into her wrists painfully, making her wince.

despite herself, a small part of her is curious where he's going with this. what game is he playing now?

matt ignores bianca’s heated retort, instead dropping to his knees beside the bed. he gazes up at her with a predatory gleam in his eyes, trailing a hand down her chest to fondle her growing erection.

“i think we both know you want to be a good boy for me," he coos, giving her cock a squeeze.

with a wicked smile, matt leans in to lick a stripe up the underside of bianca’s cock, making her shudder. he teases her slit with the tip of his tongue, savoring her unique taste before taking her into his mouth.

bianca gasps sharply as matt’s warm, wet mouth envelops her sensitive flesh. despite her best efforts to remain stoic, she can't help but arch into the sensation, a needy whimper escaping her lips.

“mhmm... f-fuck..." she grinds out through clenched teeth, her hips twitching involuntarily as matt begins to bob his head.

matt keeps sucking on bianca’s cock, his tongue swirling around the head. he reaches up and starts to play with her balls, squeezing them gently. he pops off her cock with a loud pop and looks up at her.

matt stands up and moves to straddle bianca’s waist, grinding his own erection against hers. he leans down to capture her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to claim her mouth thoroughly.

he reaches behind himself to grab bianca’s dripping cock, angling it towards his entrance. slowly, teasingly, he sinks down onto her length, throwing his head back with a guttural groan.

matt feels bianca's hard cock slide into him, filling him completely. the feeling is overwhelming and intense, unlike anything he's ever experienced before. his vision blurs as pleasure courses through him, causing his back to arch instinctively.

his hips begin to move in slow, agonizing circles as he adjusts to the size of her cock. every movement sends jolts of pleasure radiating throughout his body, making him gasp and moan uncontrollably.

bianca grips the cuffs tightly as she watches matt ride her cock, his movements graceful yet desperate. she can see the strain on his face, the way his breath comes in ragged gasps, and it only serves to fuel her arousal further.

“fuck matt.” bianca groans. “untie me please.”

matt slows his hips, gazing down at bianca with a smug, knowing smirk as he hears her pleas. he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over her ear as he whispers, “not until you beg properly, baby."

with that, he resumes his sensual pace, riding bianca’s cock with renewed vigor. each deliberate thrust makes him cry out in ecstasy, his inner walls clenching rhythmically around her length.

bianca grits her teeth, refusing to give in to matt's demands despite the pleasure coursing through her body. she won't let him win this game between them.

"please..." she finally relents, hating how desperate she sounds. “i need to touch you,"

her hips buck upwards involuntarily, seeking more friction, more contact. the metal cuffs rattle against the headboard with each frantic movement.

at bianca’s plea, a triumphant grin spreads across matt’s face. he continues to roll his hips sensually, relishing the feeling of her hard cock inside him. "there’s a good boy," he purrs approvingly.

with a flourish, he reaches up and uncuffs bianca’s wrists, tossing the restraints aside carelessly. he leans down, pressing his chest flush against hers as he captures her lips in another heated kiss. “touch me then," he challenges breathlessly against her mouth. “show me how much you need it."

without breaking the kiss, bianca runs her hands feverishly over matt’s body, caressing every inch of exposed skin she can reach.

bianca's fingers dance over matt's shoulders, tracing the contours of his muscles before slipping lower to grip his ass cheeks. she squeezes them firmly, pulling him harder against her as their tongues continue to duel.

breaking the kiss momentarily, she nips at his bottom lip before soothing the sting with her tongue. “like this?" she asks huskily, rocking her hips to meet his. “this what you wanted, matt?"

matt whimpers and groans at the intense pleasure of bianca’s touches, his hips stuttering in response to her assertive rocking motion.

“yes, just like that..." he breathes heavily, his eyes rolling back in bliss. “oh fuck yes, right there!"

“you’re so tight, baby," bianca moans. “you gonna let me fill you up hm?”

matt nods frantically, his gaze locked with Bianca's as he pants out, "y-yes, please...i want to feel you come inside me."

his words are punctuated by sharp gasps and whines of delight as bianca’s cock pulses and throbs within him, the sensation bordering on overwhelming.

bianca's grip on matt's ass tightens as she starts to thrust up into him with short, urgent strokes. her breathing grows ragged, each pump of her hips bringing her closer to the edge.

"fuck, matt...gonna cum soon..." she warns, her voice strained with effort. “you ready for it, slut?"

matt throws his head back too, wrapped up in all this pleasure to reply, and whimpers leave his mouth as suddenly he cums. matt moans loudly as bianca shoots her cum into him. 

bianca’s orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave, her vision blurring white as she cries out in ecstasy. she buries her face in the crook of matt’s neck, muffling her screams as her cock spasms wildly inside him, pumping load after load of hot cum deep into him.

matt gasps at the feeling, letting out a moan at how good it feels. they take a second to catch their breaths before matt suddenly pulls himself off of bianca. he avoids her eyes and quickly scrambles to grab her pyjamas. "that was alright; can tell why girls go crazy for my cock now."

 bianca raises her eyebrows and scoffs. "don’t try and play it off like you weren't a needy bitch, matt. you called me daddy."

"so?" matt sasses. he tosses bianca his t-shirt and then climbs back into bed. not saying a single word to her, he snuggles up to her chest. she’s surprised, but matt looks really worn out right now.

 “do you not want to get cleaned up?" she asks softly, moving a piece of hair out of his eye. which again is insane; she still can't believe she's in his body and he's in her, and they just fucked!

"nah," matt shakes his head, his voice coming out in a sleepy tone. "’m too tired; let's just sleep." 

bianca nods her head, watching in amusement as matt buries himself into her neck. "alright, but we're figuring this shit out tomorrow." 

matt nods his head, humming in agreement. "after i masturbate with your vibrator, though, that shit is whack."

bianca rolls her eyes and pulls the covers over them.

｡°✩

okayyyyy i know this is two days later than i promised but listen halloweekend was long and eventful

was this too much or bad i can’t tell if i like it

[heauxvibez]

Cognac Queen

Warning: smut (18+)

I'm fucking a baller, we courting I'm making it clap, he record it (damn) And he keep on making them noises (yeah) Damn, fuck, shit ooh (fuck, oh)

With a gentle grip, you tilted his head back with your left hand, feeling the coarse texture of his beard hairs against your palm as you positioned his throat perfectly. In your right hand, you held the glass bottle of cognac, its rich brown color catching the light as you angled it above his open mouth. Slowly, you poured it in a steady stream, ensuring he didn't miss a drop.

"There ya go, baby," you whispered softly, your voice gentle and soothing.

As you watched the liquor cascade into his mouth, you couldn't resist the urge to mimic his actions, your lips parting slightly mirroring him. The drink filled his mouth, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped his throat—a signal for you to stop.

You pulled the bottle back, a smirk playing on your lips as he lifted his head to swallow. His Adam’s apple bobbed with the effort, and you could see the tension in his jaw as he forced down the remnants of the drink. He shook his head slightly and let out a shuddering breath as the liquid burned its way down his throat, leaving a fiery trail that led to his stomach. He could feel the intense heat spread through his chest.

You could feel the bristly hairs of his beard still tingling in your palm. He was never really a cognac person; you knew that. Whiskey was more his style—a comfort drink he rarely ventured out of. Yet, here you were, straddling his lap as he took it to the head on his luxurious, comfortable couch in the dimly lit living room. The soft glow from a few candles cast gentle shadows around the room, highlighting the expressions on your faces. The faint sound of Megan Thee Stallion played in the background, weaving beats through the air and your body.

A wave of chills coursed through him, starting at his legs and rippling upward. "Jesus," he murmured under his breath, his voice rough and strained.

You couldn't help but gently wipe away the lingering liquid that had dripped from his bottom lip with your thumb. The cognac's rich aroma wafted up as you did so, making your mouth water. Without thinking, you quickly brought your thumb to your mouth, savoring the taste that you adored. Cognac, specifically E40's 'Typhoon VSOP', was your favorite type of liquor— smooth and spicy, with a warmth that spread through your body and a depth of flavor that lingered on your tongue. It always got the job done, providing a special something that other drinks never could.

Unlike dark liquor, clear spirits always seemed to sit heavily at the bottom of your stomach, their sharpness leaving you with the worst nausea in the world. The unpleasant aftereffects were a stark reminder of why you preferred dark.

You leaned over, carefully placing the bottle on the small table next to the couch. As you did, his hand found its way to your hips, steadying you with a firm grip. Once the bottle was secure, you straightened up, turning your attention back to him.

With a tender gesture, you placed both of your hands on his face, your fingers threading through the black and gray hairs of his beard. Your thumbs traced soothing circles on his flushed cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. You could tell he was already feeling the effects of the drink—the telltale signs were all there.

His lips curved into a lazy, contented smile, and his heavy-lidded eyes flickered with intoxication. Soft, wavy tendrils of hair dangled from his loose ponytail and around his temples and forehead as he gazed into your eyes, his look lingering before dropping to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes again. The feelings were deep and you both couldn't help but fall deeper with each other in moments like this.

Your pulse quickened as his hands slowly slid from your hips, slipping beneath the shirt you wore—a shirt that happened to be his. The fabric, soft and familiar, was a comforting reminder of him. You were dressed only in his oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties, your skin exposed and sensitive to his touch. Despite his hands typically being roughened from hard work, they felt surprisingly gentle as they explored the smooth skin of your back.

He traced a path up and down your bare back, you moaned softly, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily as his fingers moved with tender pressure. The warmth of his hands heated up your body the same way the alcohol did.

"You really are the Cognac Queen, ain't you?" he teased. He licked his lips and shifted his hips subtly, the motion causing the growing bulge beneath his sweatpants to press against your wetness through the thin fabric of your panties.

"Yup, Megan Thee Stallion ain't got shit on me," you teased back. He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. His laugh was just as intoxicating as the liquor coursing through both of your veins. The combination of his laughter and the lingering effects of the drink made your head spin slightly but in the best way.

His hands traveled slowly from your back down to your ass, his touch a bit possessive. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gripping them for support as you lifted yourself slightly, giving him better access. He took the opportunity to grasp your cheeks firmly, his hands squeezing and massaging them. The sensation of his strong hands kneading your flesh made you weak. Your pussy began to pulsate against him.

"Her knees don't got shit on yours either," He lifted you up slightly signaling for you to plant your feet onto the couch. You popped yourself onto your tippy toes and continued to steady yourself using his shoulders.

"You ain't ever lied," you replied while eyeing him mischievously. You started to move, popping your ass to the rhythm of the music that filled the room. Your movements were fluid and sensual, each motion perfectly timed to the beat.

Soft grunts escaped his lips, now flushed red from the blood rushing to his face. His low, half-lidded eyes remained fixed on you, observing your every move with admiration as your hips worked against him. You were completely in your element, your body moving with the same confidence you had when you were out with your friends.

He enjoyed watching you, it reminded him of the way Megan Thee Stallion did when she squatted down to her knees, rocking her hips back and forth. You embodied that same energy, and he couldn't help but be entranced by the sight.

"Can you do that with it in you though?" he challenged with his voice low and provocative while watching his bulge only grow bigger. Slowly, he looked up at you, one eyebrow raised. The question hung in the air, daring you to respond.

You paused your movements, the stillness making the tension thick. Your eyes locked onto his playfully. You raised your own eyebrow in response. The corner of your mouth curved to the side as you were ready to meet his challenge head-on.

"Baby..now you know I can do that.." you stated with pure confidence. With his hands still gripping your hips firmly, he responded without words, thrusting his hips upward once again. The sudden movement pressed his bulge directly against your throbbing wetness for the second time, the friction eliciting an immediate moan from your lips.

"Then show me," he whispered huskily. His wish was immediately your command. Without question, you stood from his lap, slipping out of your panties with a graceful motion. He wasted no time, quickly pulling his black sweatpants and briefs down to his ankles, his dick springing free.

You got back on the couch, straddling him once again, your bare skin pressing against his. The tension between you was almost overwhelming. You reached down and grabbed his hardened member, feeling the warmth and firmness in your hand. A small groan escaped his lips at your touch.

He pulsed in your palm, his dick throbbing with need, begging to be enveloped by your walls. You could feel your pussy reacting with the same desperation, the slickness of your arousal making it clear how much you craved him. You were both ready to lose yourselves in each other.

You began to tease both yourself and him, sliding his dick back and forth against your slit with a slowness. The sensation was damn near torture, each glide sending you to the moon. His hardness pressed against your slick folds, the friction driving the both of you insane. You could feel his pre-cum mixing with your own juices.

As his tip brushed against your throbbing clit, you could see him struggling to maintain control. His breathing became ragged, and his chest heaved with each breath. His tip was already drowning in your essence, slick and glistening from the contact. The sight of him so close to losing himself made you almost do the same.

He threw his head back against the couch, his eyes squeezing shut as a whispered string of curses escaped his lips. The guttural sounds of his moans resonated through the room, each curse followed by a sharp breath. His neck muscles tightened, and veins stood out against his flushed skin as he struggled to maintain control.

"Uhn uhn, baby, you better look at me while I put it in. I wanna see that handsome face," you demanded with a soft rasp. He let out a breathy chuckle at your words, finding it cute how you tried to exude the same confidence that came so naturally to him. He had half a mind to be disobedient, to assert his dominance with a stern "No," but the situation was different now. The warm buzz of liquor flowing through his veins, combined with the intoxicating sensation of your juices dripping down his dick, had softened him. At that moment, he was ready to do anything you asked, completely captivated by the power you had over him.

His eyes flickered open, dark and intense, locking onto yours as you slid down his length. You wrapped around him so tightly, his grip on the decorative couch pillows couldn't compare to the grip you had on him. He clung to the pillows, his knuckles white with the effort, but it was clear that your pussy had the stronger hold. His eyes never left yours, maintaining the intense eye contact just as you had demanded. His brows furrowed in concentration, lips parted as moans and gasps escaped him.

Your stomach fluttered at the sight, a rush of butterflies adding to the dizzying arousal. Your heart skipped a few beats, the rhythm stuttering under the weight of the moment. Although this was what you had asked for, you could barely handle the sight yourself. The intimacy of watching his every reaction, knowing you were the cause, was almost too much to bear.

"I can't. Fuck, wait baby." he moaned out. Roman couldn't believe the words tumbling from his mouth. Was he really tapping out on the first stroke? The pleasure crashed over him in powerful waves. Maybe if you allowed him to throw his head back and close his eyes, he'd be able to push through, to regain some semblance of control. But he was so entranced by you, by the way you moved, the way your body enveloped his, that he felt completely vulnerable in more ways than one. Your presence, your gaze, held him captive, it left him utterly exposed. He fought to hold on, to not lose himself entirely.

You also found yourself melting at your own request. You had never had him begging like this before, and the sight and sound of his desperation was different for you. Your knees wanted to give in, and your pussy pulsed around him, gripping his dick tighter and eliciting another deep moan from him. The liquor had a completely different effect on you than it did on him. It made him weaker, and more vulnerable, while you felt a surge of power.

With a slow lick of your lips, you wrapped your hand around his throat. You began riding him, moving up and down with nice strokes. Your titties bounced in time with your hips. You couldn’t help but use your free hand to grab one of your breasts, pinching and twisting your nipple while you watched his face intently.

He remained obedient, his eyes fixed on yours, filled with awe. They didn’t stray from your gaze, except for the occasional moment when they rolled back in sheer ecstasy, only to quickly find their way back to yours. The sight of him fueled your confidence even more. His moans grew louder, matching your movements.

"Mmm, but you can baby. You can take it.. you're doing so good.." you praised, your voice a sultry murmur. As you spoke, you shifted the movement of your hips, no longer lifting and dropping but instead rocking back and forth. The change in pace earned a very faint whimper from his lips.

You were stunned at how you were able to take him, his thick length hitting your most sensitive spot repeatedly with each roll of your hips. The sensation was almost too much. Your moans reverberate through the living room and with the soft strains of music playing in the background. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex as you loved on each other.

Your knees began to burn, a dull ache that was overshadowed by the feeling building in the pit of your stomach. The signs of your orgasm were unmistakable, and the feeling grew stronger with every thrust. Your movements became more frantic, more desperate, each rock of your hips driving you closer to the edge. You could see the intensity in his eyes, feel the tremors in his body, and you knew he was right there with you.

"Fuck, look at us baby. Look at what you make me do.." you murmured. Slowly, your hand trailed up his throat, the pads of your fingers grazing his skin until you reached his jaw. You tilted his head downward, forcing him to witness the sight of his dick sliding in and out of your slick, swollen folds.

The visual was mesmerizing. His eyes widened as he took in the view of your bodies joined together, the creamy ring of your pussy forming at the base of his length, glistening with each thrust. The sound of your wetness grew louder, filling his ears with the sound he loved the most.

"Only you can make me feel this way, baby," you moaned softly as you slowed your pace, allowing him to savor every sensation. You wanted to make sure he could see and feel the tugs and pulls your pussy caused around his dick. You wanted him to see the effect he had on you, to witness the power of his touch.

In the background, Megan's music continued to play. The beat motivated you to continue, urging you to ride in time with the music, each thrust synchronized with the melody. He couldn't hear anything but the soft, sensual moans that slipped past your lips and the soft gushy sounds of your pussy.

"Baby, if you keep talking me like that, I'm gonna nut," he confessed, his breath still in ragged gasps as his eyes remained fixed on him fucking you.

You made him look back at you, locking eyes with him, a mischievous smirk on your lips. "Then I guess I'm gonna keep talking, baby,"

"Whose dick is this, baby?" you questioned. Your orgasm loomed on the horizon, but you were going to make sure he came first. There was no way you were going to let yourself finish before him.

He threw his head back once more, a low groan escaping his lips as he surrendered to you. "It's yours," he whispered into the air. In that moment, there was no doubt that you owned him completely, body and soul.

"Aht, look at me, daddy," You could see his jaw clench at your words as his orgasm approached. He exhaled deeply, a sound that echoed through the room, before reluctantly lifting his head back up, his hands still clutching onto the pillows with a desperate grip.

"Whose dick is this?" you asked again as your hips rocked faster, urgently driving you both toward the edge of ecstasy. You felt his dick stiffen up beneath you, he was on the brink of release.

"It's yours, it's yours, fuck, it's yours," he groaned, his voice filled with need as his orgasm coursed through him. "Fuck, I'm cumming," he moaned, the words torn from his lips as you continued to ride him through his orgasm. His hands abandoned the pillows, reaching instead for your hips, holding onto you as his climax washed over him, his body tensing and trembling with the force of it.

You didn't let up, still working to chase down your own release, feeling yourself getting closer with each thrust. The sensation of him filling you up only added to the moment, pushing you ever closer to the brink as well.

Now it's his turn.

With a firm grip, he gathered your hair, pulling it back into a ponytail with his right hand, while his left hand remained steady on your hips, guiding and supporting you through the waves of pleasure.

"You gonna nut for me, babygirl?" His deep voice resonated through your ears, igniting something deep in your core. With sweat trickling down your forehead, your body responded tirelessly to him.

You nodded eagerly, your breath hitching as you felt the tension building in you. Every movement, every thrust, brought you closer to the edge, and you were determined to let go under his touch. His hands worked perfectly, one guiding your movements while the other maintained a firm grip, grounding you.

As you continued to ride him, he met your thrusts with his own, his hips rising to meet yours almost in a dance against the music. His movements were deep, each one grazing your G-spot, sending you into a frenzy.

"Daddy's hitting that spot, ain't I?" he questioned watching you tremble on his lap. "There you go, that’s it baby. Cum for me." As your body responded eagerly to him, your essence flowed freely along his dick, creating a trail down it and pooling onto his thighs. The orgasm brought a constellation of stars behind your eyelids.

As his thrusts increased, your trembling knees struggled to support you, eventually succumbing to ecstasy. He showed no signs of stopping, his need driving him to ravish you with endless strokes.

Your head found solace in the curve of his neck, and your fingers tightened their grasp on his broad shoulders, desperately seeking an anchor.

“Please..” you begged, eyes watering as the torture continued. His hips felt like the pounding of a machine, driving deeper and deeper into the depths of your soul.

"Nah...", his fingers stayed entwined firmly in the curls of your hair, with a gentleness that still demanded your attention, coaxing you into meeting his gaze again. He was ensuring that there was no escape from his eyes.

"Since this dick belongs to you," he continued, his tone filled with a possessiveness that sent a thrill coursing through your veins, "you gon take it like it belongs to you."

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

Shoutout to @caramelcleopatraa for being my inspo for actually pushing this out💐🩷

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @sortudademais @empressdede @alichesmi

@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80

@headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @tshepisho @mzv11 @sheyaish

@saintmagx

[darlingdaisyfarm]

okay okay okay, but have you ever thought about Stan Pines going all out with a bat and those brass knuckles, not for Dipper and Mabel this time, but for you?

so imagine this

you’re fighting for your life, seriously, you’re down on the floor, struggling and kicking and trying to pry this zombie’s gross, dead grip off your ankle. it’s got this clammy, awful hand wrapped around you, squeezing like it’s never letting go. you’re panicking, heart pounding, kicking out as hard as you can, but it just keeps pulling you closer, and it’s got this. . . stink, this mix of dirt and decay and something that’s just so wrong, it’s like it’s crawling up your nose and seeping into your brain

and then you barely have time to process it when — wham! 

Stanley’s fist connects with the zombie’s wrist, and it’s like a scene straight out of a horror movie, except he’s not playing around. he’s just done with this thing trying to mess with what’s his.  

that zombie hand flying—literally, just detaches like it was nothing more than a piece of old meat. meanwhile Stan just stands there, fists still clenched, breathing heavy, hair a mess, a few abrasions here and there, looking at you, checking if his love is okay 

you’re gasping, trying to scramble to your feet, but Stan’s already there, arm steadying you before he’s pulling you close. he’s got that look—wild, fierce, because there’s not a damn thing in the world that’s gonna stand between him and keeping you safe 

“ya alright?” he rasps with that rough voice of him but somehow still tender when he addresses to you. but then he’s all business, not waiting for your answer. “get behind me. now.” it’s not even a suggestion, it’s an order, one you’re almost too shaken to process before you feel his hand on your shoulder, guiding you behind him, making himself this solid wall between you and whatever disgusting horror’s lurking in the shadows.

“ain't nobody gonna touch what’s mine! you fucking get me?!”

and that’s when Stanley raises the bat, no hesitation, no fear, just this quiet fury which shows through his every movement. when the next zombie stumbles forward, moaning and reaching for flesh, Stan swings with a force that makes your heart skip a beat. another crack! the bat slams into its jaw, splintering bone and sending the creature staggering back like it just got hit by a freight train.

“c’mon, ya sack of rotten shit! ya want somethin?” he taunts, daring them to come closer. another one lunges, and he doesn’t even blink, twisting the bat in his hands before landing a brutal swing right to its chest, the wood splintering against decaying ribs.

and then, when the bat’s seen its last swing, he tosses it aside with a grunt, rolling his shoulders before pulling out brass knuckles, slipping them over his fingers with this terrifying, steady calm

he glances over his shoulder. “stay back, ya hear me?” and he sounds so damn protective, like he’d burn the world down before he’d let these things so much as look your way again.

he’s back to business, fists swinging with deadly precision, brass knuckles glinting as he hammers away at the zombies, one after another. every punch lands with a sickening thud and Stan is not stopping until every last one of these things is down.

because Stan Pines could take on the whole world if he had to, if it meant keeping you safe.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Postcards

Summary: Tom Bennett is sweet on the Post Office girl, but only dares to approach it just as he's conscripted for war | Word Count: 7.2k~ (oops) | Warnings: ww2, mentions of death, smut, fingering

A/N: A very VERY Happy Birthday to @ewanmitchellcrumbs <3 I hope you enjoy this and have a lovely day! ❤ And thank you so much to @theoneeyedprince for skimming over this 😘

“Get ‘im a cuppa, would ya darlin’!”

Her grandfather’s low baritone seemed to rumble through the floorboards so much so it made her eardrums throb, and she shook her head as she descended the creaky staircase at the back of the store room, running a hand over the collar of her dress to keep it flat.

“Yes, Granda,” she sighed, filling the kettle and placing it on the lit stove. Gone were the days when she was young, afraid of the tiny flame that appeared when her grandfather struck a match to light the gas. He’d always laugh at her concerned expression, chuckling that no grandchild of his was going to be such a ‘scaredy-cat’.

He’d had her lighting matches on the stovetop since she was eleven years old. No exceptions. 

A harsh but fair upbringing, given that she was his only grandchild.

She brushed a wavy lock of hair from her face, her pumps clicking on the floorboards as she let the water boil and joined him at the front of the post office. She rolled her eyes when she saw him struggling with the sack of post, grunting and grumbling to himself as elderly men often do.

“Get off, granda, let me.”

“Cheeky beggar! Can do it on me own, ya pesky-”

“Granda.” 

He finally turned, perhaps recognising the same tone he’d heard in his wife and daughter in years gone, and knew not to argue. She saw that when her grandfather, turned while bent over and withered with his years, with a smattering of white on his chin and waved sparsely on the crown of his head, had a cigarette hanging from his mouth, the end almost chewed right through with the effort he’d used in trying to lift what he easily could have several years ago.

He raised an eyebrow, bringing the cigarette from his age-weathered lips and blowing the smoke out, “Go on then. Tea on?”

“Course, it is,” she sighed, bending to pull the sack of post from the floor and into the corner to be sorted later. “I’ll do that later, you go upstairs”.

“Bollocks, will I. I’m staying ‘ere.”

Her grandfather was stubborn, though it was something they accused each other of being regularly. A family trait, some would say.

The postman, clad in his dark uniform trudged through the front door, ringing the bell with it. His satchel was empty and his cheeks were pink like the wind had been at them.

“The usual route please, darlin’”.

She nodded. “Cuppa first?”

“Yes, ta, milk, one sugar-”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she smirked, “same as every day.”

As the postman settled into the familiar chair, reserved for him if anyone asked, her grandfather gave a low grumble, shifting his weight with the slow deliberation of age. He looked over at his granddaughter, the same stubborn glint in his eye that she mirrored back at him.

"You're not still jawing, are you?" he muttered, taking another drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray like he had done a thousand times before.

The kettle whistled, and she moved with ease, pouring the steaming water over the tea bags, the rich aroma filling the small, worn kitchen. She added the milk and sugar to the postman's cup, stirring it with a practised hand.

"Here you go," she said, placing the cup in front of him. "Warm yourself up."

"Bless you, lass," the postman replied, wrapping his hands around the mug as if to soak in its warmth.

The grandfather watched the scene with a softened expression before he straightened, a hint of urgency in his voice cutting through the usual routine. "Put the sign out, will you, love?"

With a tired sigh, she set her teaspoon down and retrieved the sign her grandfather had already sorted that morning, today’s headline written in white chalk across the blackboard surface. She didn't usually pay it much attention, but as she held the frame in her hands, her eyes were drawn to it. One word stood out like a beacon:

‘Britain Declares War on Germany’

“It’s official now,” her grandfather mused, having clocked her shocked, mildly terrified expression, his voice carrying an air of aged wisdom. He had seen another war before this one after all, even then, he had been too old to actually fight in it.

Her breath caught for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. "Today?"

"Aye, today," he confirmed, as if it made any difference, a solemn nod accompanying his words. "The world’s about to change."

She stepped outside, the gravel crunching under her feet as she made her way to the front of the shop. With a steady hand, she hung the sign where it would be seen by all who passed by. She stepped back as if to make sure the words were true and not a trick of the eye, and couldn't help but feel the gravity of the situation settling in. The world was indeed about to change, and their quiet corner of it would not be spared.

As she stood there, contemplating the significance of the headline, she heard the familiar sound of a bicycle approaching. Douglas pulled up, half-dismounting with a hurried air.

“Y’alright, Douglas?” she greeted him, her voice tinged with curiosity and concern.

Douglas’s eyes flicked to the sign, and he visibly flinched. A deep furrow appeared on his brow, and his jaw tightened, frustration evident in his tense posture.

“Not seen my boy, Tom, have ya?” he asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Fortunately not. Why, is he in trouble?”

Douglas let out a frustrated sigh. “Is he. If you see him, send him back home.”

She nodded, then glanced back at the sign, understanding the unspoken pain in Douglas’s reaction. “I will, Douglas. Take care.”

Douglas gave a curt nod, his eyes lingering on the sign for a moment longer before he mounted his bike again. He gave her a brief, strained smile, the weight of his past experiences clear in his eyes, and pedalled away. She watched him go, feeling the heavy burden of the news. He and Tom were alike in many ways, stubborn mostly though, and set in their ways once their mind was made up. But Douglas was gentler since the first war had changed him, and Tom was never the same after his mother. Turning back to the house, she couldn’t shake the feeling that their small world, like so many others, was on the brink of something monumental. Something far beyond their understanding.

The week passed in a blur of routine tasks and quiet contemplation. She worked diligently, covering the post office as her grandfather went off to the social club, seeking the comfort of familiar faces and shared memories. The steady stream of customers brought a sense of normalcy, yet the weight of the headline hung over her like a shadow, and many others as well.

Each day felt heavier than the last, as the reality of the declaration of war settled in. Conversations with customers often turned to the uncertain future, and the usual gossip was replaced with talk of enlistment and preparations.

As the afternoon sun began to wane one gloomy day, the door to the post office swung open with the chime of the bell. She looked up from the counter, her heart skipping a beat as Tom Bennett walked in. His usual carefree expression was absent, replaced by a seriousness she’d rarely seen before now.

She smiled. “Three guesses who you're skulking away from.”

Tom approached the counter, a faint smirk rose at the corners of his mouth, and his serious depression faltered somewhat. “Box of matches, please.”

She rang him up, the familiar clink of the register grounding her amidst the day's uncertainties. Even from here, behind the counter, she caught the faint scent of cigarettes on his weathered coat, for some reason making her head feel airy. As she handed him the matches, she couldn't help but broach the topic. 

“Heard you signed up,” she said, her voice gentle but curious. “What made you do that?”

Tom’s face hardened slightly. She knew immediately why but dare not say. “Don't carry on, had enough of this off Dad.”

“Not Lois?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tom let out a short, humourless laugh. “Nah. She can’t wait to see me gone.”

“How will she cope?” she smiled, attempting to lighten the mood.

Tom shrugged, pocketing the matches. “She’s tougher than she looks. She’ll be alright, both of ‘em will.”

Granda trudged past the doorway leading to the back room, leaving a large heaved sigh with a cigarette between his weathered lips. Tom nodded up at him, “y’alright, Granda? Keeping steady?”

She couldn't help but smile as she glanced back. Nobody called him by his real name, only ever what she had always nicknamed him, from a time where she was unable to say ‘grandad’. At first it embarrassed her, but now to hear everyone else call him Granda, well, it was endearing.

Her grandfather simply glared with hooded eyes, blowing smoke between his lips and permeating the air with musk, “bugger off, ya bone idle twat-”

He was still muttering things as he walked off and she gave Tom a face that showed she was trying her hardest to remain stoic.

“Your own fault really. Should know better.”

Tom chuckled, “Yeah, I should.”

From the first day she stepped behind the counter, Tom had made it his mission to tease and charm her, testing the waters with playful remarks and lingering glances. He would lean in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, just to watch her cheeks flush a delicate pink. It was a game they played, a dance of words and looks that neither was quite brave enough to escalate.

She found herself looking forward to his visits, the highlight of her day amidst the routine tasks of sorting mail and ringing up customers. Tom seemed to delight in the effect he had on her, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned in close. “You’re going to spoil me with all this attention,” he’d say, and she’d laugh, trying to hide how much she enjoyed their playful but enigmatic banter.

Now, as Tom stood before her, the weight of his decision to sign up for the war added a new layer to their unspoken bond. The cheeky glint in his eyes was tempered by a newfound seriousness, and she felt the fragile line between them tighten and shift.

As she handed him the change, their fingers brushed, and she felt a familiar warmth rise to her cheeks. “You know,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “you’re going to make a right mess of things if you keep winding everyone up.”

Tom leaned on the counter, his smirk widening. “Oh, you like it when I wind you up. Admit it.”

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress her smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Big word for a post office clerk-ow!” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief, rubbing his shoulder in faux offence when she smacked him lightly. If she were honest with herself, it was just an excuse to touch him.

“One of these days, your cheek will get you into real trouble,” she warned, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

Tom leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe I’m hoping you’ll be the one to give me a proper telling off.”

She rolled her eyes, busying herself with doing a recount of the till, mostly so that she could have something to do with her hands. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible to resist?” he quipped, his grin widening.

“Impossible to deal with,” she corrected, though her cheeks flushed with a hint of colour.

Tom watched her for a moment, his smile softening, blue eyes flickering to the pile of post she still had to sort. “Got anything for me? I'll take it back on my way home.”

She hummed a laugh, shaking her head as she sorted through.. She always sorted the Bennett Household’s post separately, so she’d be prepared for another one of Tom’s spontaneous visits. “To face the wrath of Douglas?”

He scoffed, leaning back against the counter with a mock look of horror. “Don't make me laugh. I can handle my old man.”

“Brave words, Mr. Bennett,” she teased, handing him a small stack of letters. “But I’m not sure anyone can handle Douglas when he’s in a mood.”

Tom took the letters, their fingers brushing for a brief moment. “Guess I’ll find out soon enough,” he said with a wink. “I’m tougher than I look, you know.”

She smiled, feeling the familiar warmth spread through her. “I believe it. Just don’t go getting yourself into too much trouble, alright?”

Tom’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “No promises. Trouble seems to follow me wherever I go.”

As he turned to leave, he glanced back over his shoulder. “And don’t worry, I’ll come back before I ship out. Wouldn’t want to miss another chance to see you blushing for me.”

With that, he straightened and headed for the door, leaving her with a smile and a heart a little lighter despite the day’s heavy news. She watched him go, the weight of their unspoken connection lingering in the air. In her heart she knew she was afraid of truly letting him go, at the prospect of not seeing him walk through those doors every other day. Her heart felt like lead, deep in her chest, wondering if it was already too late, with war reaching their horizons, to admit how she really felt about the man who had just signed up to fight in it.

The days continued to pass in a blur of activity and mounting tension. The declaration of war had cast a long shadow over their small town, and everyone was feeling its effects. Life carried on, but the underlying anxiety was palpable.

A week later, Tom walked into the post office, a different kind of seriousness in his eyes. He held an official-looking envelope in his hand, and she knew immediately what it was.

“Got my papers,” he said, handing her a letter to post. “I’m shipping out in a few days.”

She felt a lump form in her throat but forced a smile. Don’t cry. “So soon?”

He nodded, looking around the familiar space of the post office.

“There’s a…leaving do at the Cross Keys, if you want to come and see me off with the others.”

And why on earth would she have said ‘no’. 

A small gathering was held at the local pub to send off the men who had conscripted to do their bit. It was a tradition of sorts, a way for the community to come together and show their support. Friends and family gathered, raising their glasses to wish him well and offer their prayers for his safe return. It was all bright faces, pink cheeked from ale, clinking glasses and all. And all she could do was watch from her seat. Watch him. As if she wanted to print the very image and soul of him into her mind on the off chance he might not return to her, or if he already had a sweetheart to write to, and wouldn't spare a second glance to her.

The pub was filled with laughter and conversation, but she could see the sadness in everyone’s eyes. As the evening wore on, people began to drift away, leaving behind a quieter, more intimate group.

Tom found her sitting at a corner table, nursing a drink. He slid into the seat next to her, a playful glint in his eyes. “Mind if I join the prettiest girl in the room?”

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile. Tom looked around, then back at her. He was antsy, she could feel his nervous energy a mile away. He was probably annoyed as well. Douglas hadn’t come to the pub that night, and there was always something in Tom that craved his approval. “Got anything you want to say to me before I go, or are you just going to miss me in silence?”

She looked down into her lap, tracing her thumb over the rim of her glass, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I don’t know what to say without sounding like a fool, Tom.”

“Then be a fool. I won’t mind.”

Her chest was all tight with anxiety when she finally had the courage to form the reply, looking up into his blue eyes, “this place just won’t be the same without you.”

She’d always seen Tom a certain way. Sure. Cock of the walk. Ever since his own mother died he’d almost put on this thick outer layer that was impenetrable. But here, sat with half a beer left in his glass, tapping his fingers against it nervously, his eyes gave way to something more vulnerable. They both know he was off to go and do something important, that he needed to feel valuable in some way, and this was his way of proving it. But his expression showed that he was also a young man, like so many others, who was afraid. 

“I won’t miss much about his place.”

Her heart sank a fraction, deep, forming a pit in her stomach. And it seemed Tom sensed it, as he twisted his body to face her, nudging her arm with his elbow to grab her attention again.

 “But I will miss you. Especially you.”

She looked up, meeting his gaze. The pub was nearly empty now, the noise reduced to a low murmur, and she suddenly felt uncomfortable in her chair, fingers twisting the hem of her skirt in a gesture of uncertainty about herself. “Tom, I–”

His lips pressed to hers in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was a moment they had both imagined countless times, but reality was far sweeter and more poignant.

When they finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers and chuckled softly. “About time we stopped dancing around it, isn’t it?”

She could laugh. Cry even. 

Tom sensed her surprise and something that lingered deeper, but his bravado didn’t allow him to approach it, but it was enough that his thumb brushed a wayward hair from her face. “Had to get that in before I left. Didn’t want to regret missing my chance.”

She let out a relieved, breathy laugh. One that expelled all the tension from her body for a moment. Her eyes never quite left him, as if in wonder. And she was hit with the endless thought that she did not want this moment to end, she didn’t want him to leave. But knew she could never ask that of him.

“Promise me you’ll write,” she said instead.

A classically-Tom Bennett smirk rose to his face. He always did that when he saw the colour rise to her face. “I might.”

They both laughed lightly, with some uncertainty, when she swatted his shoulder. That attitude would get him in trouble, if not with her.

“How about I do you one better,” he started, “I’ll come back, and we’ll have our time.”

She knew then she could ask no more of him. She felt a mixture of hope and fear, knowing how much she was already relying on his return, how much she already craved it. But in response to his weighty promise, she nodded softly, her eyes feeling heavy with tears she did well to keep back.

It almost felt cruel, to have this moment the day before he would leave her for the seas. There had been no time…

Tom’s cheeky grin returned, albeit with a touch of tenderness. “Good. Now, let’s get you home before I change my mind and decide to stay here with you.”

She wished he would. 

It was only when she was at her doorstep, watching him walk away, the darkness gradually enveloping him, that she finally took a deep breath, clutching the memory of his kiss and the promise of his return close to her heart.

The days following Tom’s departure were filled with a bittersweet mixture of hope and anxiety. She busied herself at the post office, trying to keep her mind off the worry gnawing at her. The routine tasks that once felt mundane now served as a distraction from the ever-present uncertainty.

On the morning Tom was scheduled to ship out, she was on shift, sorting through the morning post with a heavy heart. She couldn’t bring herself to go to the docks to see him off, knowing it would be too much to bear. Instead, she stayed at the post office, her mind wandering to thoughts of him, imagining his cheeky grin and the promise in his eyes.

After a fortnight, she was giddy with joy when she was sorting the post and saw her name amongst the pile, she nearly gave herself a papercut in her fervent attempts to open the letter, wanting to see his words, in his hand, it would give her happiness beyond belief.

Little Miss Postie, You wouldn't believe the state of things here. It's a lot different from our quiet little town. The lads are a good bunch, though, mostly, and they’ve already learned to put up with my jokes. They’ve got no choice, really. It’s either that or Hitler and I wouldn’t like those odds. I miss seeing your face every day, the way you blush when I tease you. You remember that night at the pub? I bet you do. I wasn’t joking about regretting not kissing you sooner. Let’s just say I’ve had some pretty vivid dreams since then. Don’t worry, I’m keeping my head down and staying out of trouble. Mostly. But it’s hard not to think about you when I’m supposed to be focusing on training. The open sea allows a man to think a bit too much, and every time I see the stars at night, I think of you. And, well, there’s not much else to do out here except think… and maybe imagine a few things I shouldn’t put in a letter. Write me back soon. Tell me everything. And don’t leave out the parts that make you blush. Yours, Tom

She sat at the counter, Tom’s latest letter in hand, a smile tugging at her lips as she read his words again. The warmth of his cheeky tone and the sincerity of his affection made her heart flutter. She knew she had to reply, but she wanted to make it special.

Rising from her seat, she walked over to the display of postcards near the entrance of the post office. The assortment included scenic views, cheerful illustrations, and wartime propaganda. Her fingers brushed over each one until she found a postcard that seemed perfect—a World War II specific postcard featuring a charming drawing of a sailor in uniform, waving from a ship, with the words “Keep Smiling and Carry On” printed in bold letters.

She took the postcard back to the counter and carefully penned her reply, choosing her words with care and affection. When she finished, she read it over, her cheeks warming at the bolder parts. With a satisfied smile, she addressed the postcard and prepared to send it off.

Dear Tom, I’m glad to hear you’re getting along with the lads and keeping them entertained. The town isn’t the same without you, and I miss your cheeky grin and those comments that always get under my skin—in the best way, of course. I hope you continue to write to your father and Lois, they miss you greatly. I’ve been thinking about that night at the pub too. More often than I should admit. Sometimes I catch myself smiling like a fool. Granda thinks I’ve gone mad. He’s just a few pennies short of putting me away. Since you were so forward in your letter, I suppose I can be a little brave too. I’ve had a few dreams myself, some of them involving a certain navy man and that uniform you hate. I’m looking forward to seeing you out of it as much as in it. Stay safe, Tom. I can’t wait for your next letter. Yours, ‘Little Miss Postie’

Little Miss Postie, I knew there was a reason I liked you. I couldn’t stop smiling when I read your letter. And blushing? Don’t worry, I’ve been doing plenty of that myself. Don’t tell anyone though or I’ll tell everyone you’re lying. I can’t wait to get back and see if those dreams of yours are as good as mine. Maybe we’ll have to find out together. And as for that uniform, well, I’ll make sure to wear it just for you. But you might have to help me out of it later. I promise, I’ll make it worth your while. Training is tough, and they’re keeping us on our toes, but thoughts of you keep me going. The lads are starting to wonder why I’ve got this goofy grin on my face all the time. I’ve been telling them about you—well, only the parts that won’t make them too jealous. They all say hello, by the way. Take care of yourself, love. And keep those letters coming. They’re the best part of my day. Yours, Tom

Her reply was affectionate, written with that telltale blush to her cheeks that Tom would have made fun of her for. Every scratch of the pen on paper, telling him that him blushing at her letter would be their little secret, and that he shouldn’t give the lads too high of expectations of her, made her heart feel as light as air. And as she signed off the letter, urging him to come back to her, she would not let that little whisper of uncertainty grow at the back of her mind. And as she turned over the postcard, appreciating the watercolour design on the front, she thought of his face when, and how she imagined it would light up when he received it. Just as hers does.

She waited for a response. But none came.

She found herself anxious, restless. Had she said something wrong? Gone too far? Scared him off with her incessant affections and flirtations? Surely not, she thought. But the lack of any real response had tensions rising in her gut, and the seed of doubt had long been planted.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, she checked the post every morning with a mix of anticipation and dread. Each time the mail arrived, she sifted through the letters, hoping to find one from Tom. But there was nothing. No letter, no word. Her heart sank a little more with each passing day.

Her grandfather and the regular customers noticed the change in her. She became quieter, more introspective, holding onto the hope that Tom would keep his promise and return. The thought of his words, “I’ll be back, and we’ll have our time,” became her lifeline, the thing that kept her going through the long, uncertain months.

Sometimes, she'd allow herself a trip to the house Tom used to inhabit, remembering the times she'd pass by on her way to the post office and spot him leaning against the doorway, smoke blowing from between his curled lips, amused to see the way she was watching him. 

She'd hand Lois the post, come in for a cuppa, sometimes Douglas would say a quick hello as he was passing through the kitchen. But whenever she saw him, she was reminded very much of Tom, thousands of miles away from her, and the way his eyes crinkled like Douglas’ did when he smiled.

Every morning, she performed her duties with a determined smile, greeting the postman with a hopeful glance, on the off chance that some letter had accidentally ended up at Douglas’ home, only to be met with a sympathetic shake of the head. She would take a deep breath, steel herself, and continue with her day, refusing to let despair take hold. If she ever let it stick, it would swallow her whole.

It was funny how life had a way of testing people in their worst times.

Granda had always been stubborn. So much so that even when she told him she would put out the sign in a moment, he was too impatient. She only found him later, collapsed alongside the sign for that day's news. But no news seemed as important to her as that very minute, knelt beside her dying grandfather and shouting at passerbys for help.

If her little town was good for anything, it was community. Her grandfather left enough to cover the costs for the funeral, but all who remained put in as much as they could so that they could give the very beating heart of their slice of peace a good sendoff. Her grandfather would have hated it, everyone snivelling and crying over him. But it took the edge off her grief to see that he had touched the hearts of so many, despite his grumpy attitude.

At least, she thought, she wouldn't have to let go of the post office and go work in a factory. This small slice of peace was all she had left of her grandfather. And she counted her blessings that he had left her a good amount in his will, and what remained of his savings.

She only hoped that this brief didn't come in pairs. And she couldn't help but think of Tom now she was truly alone, running the post office by herself, her loneliness only exacerbated by the fact she only had herself to make a brew for in the morning now. She has the most vivid nightmares about the day someone would come and break the news that he wouldn't come back.

Then, one crisp morning, as she stood behind the counter, sorting the latest batch of letters, the door to the post office swung open with a familiar chime. She looked up, her breath catching in her throat as Tom Bennett stepped inside, dressed in his navy uniform, looking weary but very much alive.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The weight of all the months of worry and hope melted away as he crossed the room, a tired but genuine smile spreading across his face.

“I told you I’d come back,” he said softly, his voice carrying the same mix of cheekiness and sincerity that she had missed so dearly.

For a moment, she stood frozen, unable to believe her eyes. Then, in a rush of emotion, she ran around the counter and threw herself into his arms. As she hugged him tightly, the dam of her emotions broke and she began to sob uncontrollably. He smelled of cigarettes and the sea, a mix of salt and smoke that was uniquely him. The scent brought a rush of memories and emotions, grounding her in the reality of his presence. His uniform carried the faint tang of saltwater, a reminder of the long months he had spent away from her, battling the elements and the enemy.

Tom hugged her back, a bit confused by the intensity of her reaction. “Hey now, what’s all this? I’m back, aren’t I? In one piece and everything.”

She laughed through her tears, clutching him even tighter. “You look terrible in that uniform,” she said, her voice shaky but filled with affection.

Tom chuckled, a familiar warm feeling pooling in her gut, rubbing her back soothingly. “Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t join the navy for the fashion. Besides, I was hoping you’d be so happy to see me that you wouldn’t notice.”

She wiped her cheek, feeling like air was finally making its way into her lungs. “Y-You didn’t write me back. I thought I'd lost you too.”

“I’m sorry, love. I never meant to leave you in the dark. It was just complicated out there, I–”, Tom furrowed his brows, his head cocking down at her slightly. “Too? I—”

He only had to look around. It was never usually this quiet. And she saw the realisation dawn across his war-hardened face when he spotted the framed picture of Granda on the counter.

“Oh, no,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “When?”

“A few months ago,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Stroke. The tobacco must have caught up with him.”

Tom’s expression softened, and he pulled her into a tighter embrace. “I’m so sorry, love,” he whispered, resting his cheek on her head, “you're more a soldier, doing all this on your own.”

She held onto him, his presence like a balm for her aching heart, growing stronger every day around the pit that was grief. “I didn't feel very strong.”

Tom didn't reply. He hadn't felt very strong himself either. And she knew from the way his large hand rubbed her back to comfort her, that there was more to his easy-going facade than he wanted to let on. And he knew for her equally, that the months were tough on her own, and that she was still healing.

“Missed you so much,” she confessed, pulling away slightly to look up at his half-worried expression, “it felt like I was losing both of you at the same time.”

Tom sighed, a light, almost pretty sound from his lips, his gaze drifting down slightly to her lips, as if he were just remembering all the details he didn't want to admit he'd forgotten all those months at sea.

“Don't cry.” His thumb lingered, swiping away a tear from her under eye, before he lightened the atmosphere with his smile, “I'd prefer to see you blush again. Suits you better.”

She couldn't help a smile breaking across her face, and the warmth that crept up her neck made her feel like a schoolgirl.

Tom winked. “There it is.”

Before she could respond, he leaned down and kissed her, softly at first, as if testing the waters. Her hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his uniform as she kissed him back, the warmth of his lips against hers sending a shiver down her spine.

She pulled back slightly, a playful protest on her lips. “Tom, we’re still open…”

He gave her a devilish smile, turning around to flip the sign on the door to ‘Closed’ and locking it with a swift motion. “Not anymore, we’re not.”

He wasted no time, pulling her back into his arms, his lips growing more insistent and passionate. His hands roamed her back, finding the familiar curves and contours he had missed so much, but had no time to explore before he’d left. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire.

She felt her own longing mirror his, her body responding eagerly to his touch. “Show me,” she whispered, her breath hot against his skin.

Tom’s grin turned wicked as he trailed kisses down her neck, his hands exploring with newfound urgency. “I've been dreaming about this,” he murmured against her skin, his breath hot and tantalising. “Every fucking night.”

She laughed softly, feeling a delightful mix of anticipation and excitement. “Tom Bennett, you are impossible.”

He gave no reply, his fingers already working on the buttons of her blouse. His movements were deft, practised, as if he had imagined this moment a thousand times over. She gasped as his hands brushed her skin, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through her body. 

His lips found hers again, their kiss deepening as he pulled her blouse free, letting it fall to the floor. “Yeah, but I knew you’d come around,” he said with a cheeky grin, his hands sliding to her waist and pulling her closer.

Their kisses grew hungrier, their bodies pressing together with an urgency that had been building for months. She reached for the buttons on his uniform, her fingers trembling slightly in anticipation as she worked to free him from the fabric. He shrugged off his jacket and pulled her into his arms again, his hands caressing her bare skin and breasts through her brassiere, sending waves of heat through her.

She sighed, her head falling back as his lips trailed down her neck, his kisses leaving a path of fire in their wake. “Tom,” she breathed, her hands clutching at him, needing more.

“I know, love,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm. “I know.”

He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the small sofa in the back of the post office where she sometimes took breaks. Gently, he laid her down, his eyes never leaving hers. Their movements became a dance of passion and longing, each touch, each kiss, a testament to the months they had been apart. Tom’s hands explored her with a reverence that made her feel cherished, loved.

As if by muscle memory from those dreams he would write about, his knee slid between her thighs as his hands roughly bunched up her skirt to her hips, two fingers tucking between them to tease her bud through her knickers.

“Tom,” she gasped, her body arching against his.

“Shh,” he soothed, his lips capturing hers once more. “I’ve got you.”

She was enraptured by the way he nipped at her lips, that she only realised he had pulled the gusset of her underwear aside when he gently, but insistently, pushed two fingers inside her, crooking upwards and finding that rough, sweet spot with unyielding precision.

He swallowed every sound she made, every now and then a grunt of approval slipping past his own lips as he stretched her open on his fingers, his pace teasing. Her fingernails left crescent moon shaped welts in his now bare shoulders, the muscles tensing beneath them.

Tom hummed against her lips, pleased with himself. “Not so shy now, are you?”

His teeth slid across her neck, no doubt marks left behind, but she couldn't even focus on that with the way he was insistent on teasing that wild spot inside her that made her body feel like white, fluttery flames.

“I've missed your reactions…especially this one.”

His thumb joined in his ministrations, applying gentle but firm pressure to her bundle of nerves in tandem with his fingers plunging in and out of her wet heat. And if her face hadn't been buried in his shoulder, she would have cried out, embarrassed at the sounds she and her body was making. Tom however, seemed to revel in it, his hand soaked with her arousal as she teetered on the edge.

The tightness in her gut spiralled as she clutched him tighter, her body aching pleasantly with the force of her peak rushing through her, all while Tom grinned and didn't falter, as if to watch her linger on that border of pain and pleasure.

Before she had even fully come down, his fingers were gone and she felt she was able to fully breathe again. Her flushed expression snapped open to him as he pulled her thighs towards him, on the sofa, and watched as he righted himself and slid his belt through the loops of his trousers, a sound that made her belly flutter.

He raised his eyebrows, pulling his trousers low enough to free himself and leaned over her again. “Missed me that much?”

She laughed, and hid her face, the dull ache still thrumming through her body ignited again as the head of is cock parted her folds and nudged her bud. “Tom-”

Warmth crept to her face again when his hand turned her face towards him again, his pupils near eclipsing the blue with want as he sheathed himself within her, holding her there to watch her expression as her walls stretched to accommodate him.

In any other scenario, she would want to slap that self-impressed look off his face, but not now, not when it felt this good.

His eyebrows barely furrowed, struggling to keep his composure. “Christ, you're so fucking tight—”

His words shot straight to her core, clenching around him and eyes slipping shut as he began a tortuous pace, like he hadn't gotten to this part in his dreams before. His arms wrapped around her like choking ivy, pushing her body to his with every needy thrust, his breath hot against her neck and the metal of his identification tag cold against her chest.

For a few brief moments, the world outside the post office ceased to exist. There were only the two of them, reconnecting in a way that was both familiar and new. Tom's cheeky comments and playful touches had yielded to blend seamlessly with his genuine affection, creating a moment that was perfect in all its imperfections.

She can feel his hips growing tired the closer he gets, and if she is being truthful, the cooling sensation of the buckle of his belt and the friction it gives her is only flinging her to the edge right alongside him. And when he breathes her name all shaky and low like that, she can't help herself, and she lets go again with a choked cry, the second sneaking up on her so quickly it feels like she never really recovered from the first.

With a stuttered groan, mirrored by his own hips, he crushes her in his arms and pushes forward as hard as he can, burying himself as deep as he's able as he comes hard nestled in her silky walls. She held him on top of her, his weight a comforting reminder that he was real, that he was here. Her fingers gently traced the contours of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin, the rise and fall of his breath.

Her heart was still racing, but not just from their shared passion. It was the sheer relief, the overwhelming sense of having him back in her arms after so long. Every night of worry, every day of longing, all melted away in this moment.

She buried her face in his hair, inhaling the familiar scent of him, mixed with the faint hint of the sea. Tears of relief welled up in her eyes, but this time they were tears of joy, of profound gratitude. And she wanted to say so much, but whenever she tried, her throat closed up, not wanting to interrupt this quiet, loving slice of peace in her arms. For the first time in months, she felt whole again.

When he finally pulls back, breathless and flushed, Tom rests his forehead against hers, his eyes filled with love and mischief, her his voice low and intimate. He means to say so much more. The depth of his feelings, the fears, and the nights he had spent longing for her, it all threatened to spill out, leaving him vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to. She saw it, though, in the way his eyes darkened with emotion, the unspoken words lingering just beneath the surface.

“I think we might need to close early more often.”

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Letters For You

Valentine’s Day letters from Anaxa, Aventurine, Gallagher, Jing Yuan, Phainon, Ratio, Reca, Sampo, Sunday

Wrote these for my online friends, so I hope you all have a lovely Valentine’s. Love you all, xoxo

Anaxa

My fellow scholar,

I won't lie and pretend as if I wouldn't rather be spending my time doing something actually worthwhile like studying, but whenever I finally bring myself to put pen to paper in my hectic schedule I find myself unable to use my quill for its intended purpose. I bought it for note taking and truly wished to use it for that purpose, only for me to find myself unable to focus on the words before me as I am stuck thinking of you.

You see, these were originally meant to be notes, so excuse the scribbling at the top. It's all mindless drivel and half-baked theories I'm certain you're already planning to jump at. Your curious mind never rests, just like mine. Which is why I'm so loath to admit that even us scholars need a break.

With that in mind, I ask that you find me at our usual spot to enjoy the current festivities. I'm sure once we're done, it will leave us both refreshed and ready to return to work.

In best regards,

Anaxagoras

Aventurine

Dearest friend,

I already know what you're going to say about the gifts I have left for you. “It's too much or you should save your money on something else, Aven.” To the point I can almost hear the words ringing in my ear in that scolding tone of yours. It's just as bad as the higher ups scolding me for breaking the cornerstone and yet I can't help but want to spoil you.

But I'll be nice. Just this once.

Instead of dinner at another fancy restaurant you'll roll your eyes at, let's just get takeout from your favorite place and we can play dress up with all the clothes I got us. And yes some are for me, too. I'm sure if you dig around a bit you'll find a particular lacy item you and I can both agree has its merits.

Until tonight,

Aventurine

P.S. No overtime. I promise.

Gallagher

Babe,

I'm sure you've already figured out the bag of candy is for you. I even wrapped it up with a neat bow and everything for ya, so I hope you like it. If you want, we can even try making a drink out of a few of them like we did with the cotton candy vodka. Remember that? It was interesting, that's for sure.

We can even have what's left after dinner tonight. I'm cooking. Just for you, too. I was thinking of Clockie Pizza with all those toppings you like, and we could have it at the lounge? I'm sure Dreamjolt Hostelry will have open seats even on Valentine’s Day, knowing how dead the place usually is. I'll even dress up if you want me to. Though it might just be best to put myself in your or Sioban care to choose an outfit. Either way, I'm trusting you here, so don't let me down.

Your man,

Gallagher

Jing Yuan

My darling,

It's a beautiful day out, don't you think? The sky is clear and bright blue, the wind is just right, and the sun as artificial as it might be is perfect for dozing under its shining rays. I even found a record to play a song I remember from days long past. The only thing missing on this perfect day is you. And my work to be done, too.

I take it you're wrapped in endless stacks of paperwork just as I am, aren't you? Even after all the time, they managed to keep you this week. I'm merely lucky I'll have you all to myself once the day ends. The weekend will be ours to enjoy the garden, eat good food, play with our adorable little lion, and each other.

While we may not get Valentine’s Day together between your work and mine, I am happy to make sure we still get to enjoy being together. Besides, choosing only one day to love you when I would rather do so every day for every year you're willing to share with me is far more appealing than showing you appreciation only on special occasions.

Yours,

Jing Yuan

Phainon

My favorite shopkeeper,

Time really does flash by in an instant, huh? It feels like only yesterday that I came to The Holy City with the weight of the prophecy, both bearing a heavy weight on and lifting my shoulders all at once. Back then, I was ready to face the world as a Chrysos Heir alongside the others of golden blood without daring to think anything could stop me. I was going to be the one who takes Nikador's Coreflame, and I'll be the demigod of Strife. It will be a title I wear with honor.

And that is still my intention, mind you, but I've found something else that fills me with just as much conviction as being a hero to the masses. Do I even have to say what it is? It's you.

Ever since we first ran into each other at your shop and you were giving me a side eye (yes, I saw that) at all the questions I was asking about your collection of antiques I knew I would be willing to take a moment to step away from the duty I have sworn to uphold to simply be with you.

So I guess what I'm asking is: will you be my valentine?

Your hero,

Phainon

Ratio

My dear,

Today has already been full of one headache after the next from students deeming fit to load my desk with gifts to dealing with Aventurine texting me about how many roses is “too much.” At this point, all I want to do is go home and fall into your embrace.

Still, I have tests to grade. And from what I've seen of them, it's looking like some of them have finally learned how to pick up a thing or two after I started to use the method you suggested last time. As loath as I am to admit, I never would have thought to have my student role play as great mathematicians from the past to keep them engaged. It worked.

You truly astound me. Always finding new ways to show that creative thinking plays a part in being knowledgeable as well. You put the term genius to shame, my dear.

Sincerely,

Veritas Ratio

Reca

My love interest,

I have met countless actresses and actors who have been praised as if they were Aeons themselves. Looks, skills, the way the camera is naturally drawn to them, why you could name it all! Yet they all pale in comparison to you, my snookums.

No shot is truly complete without your radiance, without your smile, or without just the thought of you lingering in the back of my mind and changing how I see each scene laid out before me. You have changed how I view romance, entirely flipping the genre on its head for me to make something entirely new and unique. You inspired me in a way I never would have thought possible despite all the stories of star-crossed lovers I know. You have simply made me, for lack of a better word, more.

The only thing I could possibly regret about you is not meeting you sooner.

So allow me to make up for all the time we have had apart, my honey bee, by coming to a play with me as my valentine.

Your charming director,

Reca

P.S. I have entrusted the Assistant Director to be in your care today while I am away. She shall take care of you in my stead while I am away, my valentine.

Sampo

Boss,

It's me, your good old buddy, your pal, your bestest guy, Sampo! Now, now, before you go and throw this letter in the trash or worse yet, set my poor heartfelt words on fire, hear me out. I only have the purest intentions for you today, and that is on my honest word as a businessman.

It is Valentine’s Day, after all, and I can't have such a profitable holiday be soured for my favorite customer. That would just hurt my coin purse. So to ensure that doesn't come to pass, I took it upon myself to give you a gift as a show of gratitude for all you've done for me these past few years.

I'm sure you've noticed them by now.

Now, I hope you like the roses I left for you. They have a bit of an extra boom to them if you know what I mean. Just not the bomb kind. Though you do always manage to blow my heart away so who knows, maybe it is.

Your number one guy,

Sampo

P.S. Okay you can light the letter on fire now just know that if you do I'll be left with nothing to do but drink at the bar until I'm crying my eyes out all by my lonesome. Orrrrr…you could join me. I would never complain about getting some time in your delightful company.

Sunday

My dove,

This is my first Valentine’s Day away from Penacony, let alone on the Astral Express with a lover I can call my own.

I find myself still adjusting to the sudden change. There's no one watching my every move and expecting utter perfection from me now but me. I still find myself checking my clothes, assuring my feathers are neat, and shining my halo to the point that it shines in the light of the stars surrounding us. They remind me of just how vast this galaxy truly is. How my past choices were a flicker of a flame to everyone else, but to me, it was my last ditch effort at saving a dying light.

Everything is different now.

I find myself mourning.

Only for you to walk in the room and wash each thought away like the oncoming tide to a cluttered shore just with your gaze and a twitch of your lips. It's like I'm hit with a revelation again: that things do in fact get better.

So please, keep smiling as you always do, my valentine.

All the best,

Sunday

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In The Cold

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, social dejection, mentions of religion, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: Your Christmas is set to be a lonely one, but you do your best to share the cheer with your only friend.

Character: Arvin Russell

Day Seven of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - cottage!core 

Note:��As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The tension is something you’ll never be used to. The silence is as bad as the hushed voices and the sneering side looks. It's all so suffocating. 

So much as you might’ve earned your judgement, it cannot make them righteous. What was it the pastor extolled; ‘let he who be without sin...’ And why is it that the stones they cast are aimed at you and not the man who joined you in your misdeed? The very one who cozened you into the act?  

Henry still sits on the town council, he still goes home to his wife and other children, he still gets a ‘good morning’ or a ‘good day’, and none bat a single eye along the pew. You can’t even get the same from him these days. He’s a stranger now that your dresses are too tight and your gait is wider and wobbly. Now that his adultery has grown inside of you and continues to, he runs from it. 

You pay at the counter for your meagre fare. Janie fired you not long after the minister’s scolding and none-so-subtle remonstrance of straying innocence. Like your mother and father, she abandoned you to your dejection. You would not stain her Christian mantle. 

The shopkeep, Ted, packs up your goods in the bag without a word. He drops your change on the counter and turns away as you gather it up. Despite that, you still thank him. You lift the bag and hug it above your bump. 

You keep your head down as Esther steps up to the counter with her basket. She makes a comment about the holiness of the coming holidays. Of how Jesus’ birthday should be kept sacred. You know she means you to hear but you don’t show that you do. 

You step out into the chilly winds as they swirl around with a gust of powder. You nearly collide with another as you do. The chuckle that comes with the near-catastrophe eases your nerves. In an instant, the weight is scooped out of your arms. 

“There ya’are,” Arvin greets. He’s the only person in town who talks to you.  

In fact, he’s the only reason you have a place to lay your head. He did up his old shed so you could live there for a while. A barter you insisted on. What would people think if you accepted his invitation to stay in the spare room? Surely worse than the already do. He does not deserve to be tainted by you. 

“You all done for the day?” You ask as you keep your arms crossed. 

“Oh yeah,” he answers brightly, “what’d you get? Anything good...” he sniffs the top of the bag, “I smell cinnamon.” 

You chew your lip, “yeah...” 

You glance at him. He wears his fleece lined denim jacket, the collar greyed with age and a button missing on the right chest pocket. It’s not really enough for that kinda cold. Knockemstiff lives up to its name quite often and the winter will be sure to freeze your bones. 

“Sorry, I’m being nosy,” he chuckles. “You want some candy? Got some in my pocket. Mr. Callahan sent them in with Edwin.” 

“Oh, no, I’m okay,” you blow into your woolen mittens. It’s bitter these days. “Um, I was hopin’... I could make ya dinner tonight. Since ya done so much for me. ‘Fraid I don’t got much else to give right now.” 

“That’d be awfully nice,” he accepts with a bounce in his step, “here.” He shifts the weight of the bag into one arm and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a long shape wrapped in brown paper, the top twisted and tied with ribbon. “Butterscotch.” 

“Arvin, I told ya--” 

“I got lots,” he insists. 

You take it with a thank you. You continue down the packed snow. He’s entirely oblivious to the way Charmain passes with a glare but you feel it in your chest. 

“I was thinking, before the baby comes,” you swallow as the thought bubbles up from the pits of constant dread. “I should leave.” 

“Leave?” He wonders aloud. He looks over at you as snow gathers in his hair, the cold nipping pink his cheeks. He’s two years older than you but looks and seems much younger than you. “Where to?” 

“I got an Aunt a few townships over. She’s the only one still answering my letters. She never had no kids of her own. They all... none of ‘em made it, ya know? I been writing to her and that.” 

“Oh,” his disappointment tweaks in his throat. “Well, you don’t gotta, you know? I don’t mind ya stickin’ ‘round.” 

“I mind. You been so kind already. Once I got the babe, no one gonna take me then neither. No work here, and I’ll be lucky to get a pew on Sundays.” 

“Yeah, well, all these folks be saying they’re godly and how do they act?” His tone edges hotly. “Ain’t godly to turn a soul out. My mama always said so. No soul’ll make it through this world with a dent or two, but the lord’ll forgive.” 

“Mm, she sounds like a nice lady,” you say. 

“She was,” he sniffs. “And so I wouldn’t be puttin’ no shame on her memory by bein’ selfish, ya know? So’s as long as you need it, the shed is yours. I told ya, though, there’s a room inside.” 

“No, no,” you loosen the ribbon and peek inside the paper. The candy stick of twisted sugar is all shades of caramelly brown. You smell it and it plucks at your bottomless hunger. “I don’t mind it. Pa never had the stove goin’ less the snow was past our knees. He always says, if you’re cold, put another sweater on.” 

“Huh,” he scoffs darkly. 

“What?” 

“Yer pa’s the reason you’re in my shed,” he harrumphs. “Sorry for sayin’ it, but I wouldn’t take no advice from a man who’d disown his own blood. He’s the one brought Henry ‘round. They still gettin’ drinks down at the tank.” 

That information is more chilling than the cold. You didn’t know that. You try not to hear things about your father or the man who put this curse in you. 

“I...” he begins crisply, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t gonna tell ya.” 

“Woulda found out soon enough,” you shrug and shove the butterscotch stick in your mouth. You suck on it pensively. It’s sweet but you can hardly enjoy it as your eyes burn with a glaze of tears. 

“So,” he coughs, “what’s for dinner?” 

You pop your lip off the candy, “it’s a surprise,” you say. 

“Oh, I like surprises,” he smiles, not that he ever really stops. Not around you. 

“Well, I hope you like this one,” you drone. 

💝 

You wash the plates from dinner as dessert bakes in the oven. The smell of cinnamon fills the house as you hear Arvin tinkering in the next room. He’s always messing around with something mechanical. You’re not always sure if he’s fixing them or just taking them apart. 

You dry and stack the dishes away. The old house is cozy, quaint. You know it belonged to his parents. It’s still strewn with their memories. As if he’s preserving them in those walls. So you do your best not to disturb it. 

You take the pan out of the oven. The rolled-out dough is perfectly baked and the colour is pristine. The shape resembles their namesake; elephant ears. It’s only dough, sugar, and cinnamon, but so so delicious. Your grandmother used to make them. Despite your current predicament, you’re nostalgic for the simper days. 

You put one on a plate and peek at the doorway. You pause to dig out the parcel you hid under the sink then bring both items out to the front room. You keep the latter behind your back as you approach Arvin. He sits on the floor in front of the burning firestove as he pokes at an old clock with a screwdriver. 

“Here ya go,” you offer him the dessert. “I could make some coffee or tea?” 

“Nah, I’m good,” he puts down the clock and tool, then wipes his hand on the cloth draped over his knee. He reaches up to the take the plate. “Smells good.” He brings the dish down to examine the pastry, “what is it?” 

“Called an elephant ear. Not super fancy.” 

“Looks good,” he grins. “And what’s that?” 

He lifts the baked dough and bites into it as he angles his head as if to see around you. You bring your hand out and present the parcel. 

“Merry Christmas,” you say. “I know it’s not much, and a bit early but it’s gettin’ real cold.” 

He places the plate on the rug and claps his hands off as he chews. His dark eyes sparkle as he takes the bundle wrapped in brown paper. He brings it over his lap and carefully unties the twine. You sway on your feet and rub your stomach as you watch anxiously. 

He uncovers the knitted scarf and cap. He already has thick gloves that he wears for his work. He feels the wool and examines it quietly. You’re suddenly very unsure. 

“You made these? For me?” He looks up. You nod. “Wow, it’s... you lined the cap?” 

“I had a few old pieces I repurposed,” you shrug. 

“It’s...” 

“Not too much. I know. I’m sorry. I don’t make too much these days. People only hire me if no one knows and it’s gettin’ harder to sneak around.” 

He huffs and shakes his head. He lowers his chin and pets the scarf. “It’s everything.” He continues to examine your work. “I hope you don’t mind, my gift’s not ready yet.” 

“Oh, Arvin, you don’t gotta get me nothin’. You done enough.” 

“I want to,” he says. “Now,” he lays down the wool on the rug neatly and grabs his plate. He uncrosses his legs and stands. “Why aren’t you havin’ some dessert? You need to sit down. Let that baby rest. He mustn’t sleep very much with you titterin’ around all the time.” 

“He’s already titterin--” you go to argue and stop with snort. “I think he knows we’re talking about him.” 

You feel your stomach as the baby kicks. Arvin watches your hand on your belly as his brows rise up his forehead. “You think it’s a boy?” 

“Could be. Not too sure. Oof.” You twitch as the baby kicks harder. Then wince again as Arvin puts his hand on you without warning. It’s surprising but not unwelcome. His warmth seeps through your dress. 

“Oh!” He exclaims as the baby beats on your insides. “I can feel him.” 

“It’s a bit early,” you reach back to brace your hips, “he usually waits ‘til I’m in bed.” 

He keeps his hand on you, watching your belly as the baby continues his dance. He seems awestruck by the ripple under your skin. You’re more exhausted of it. 

“I’ll have your present ready soon,” he says. “Promise.” 

💝

Arvin’s truck rumbles up to the house. You were surprised when he drove it into town today. He doesn’t usually start it unless he’s going to fetch firewood or going off for long trips. 

You open the shed door, a blanket around your shoulders as you peek out. His headlights shine through the greyness. It’s still early by your count, unless you lost track again. 

He hops out and stomps through the snow. He waves at you as his hair curls out from under the cap you made him. He wears it every day. You’re happy for that. 

“Merry Christmas,” he calls out. 

“Christmas... it’s still two days away,” you stay behind the door to shield yourself from the winds. 

“Two days!” He claps as he approaches. “Since you gave me my gift early, I got yours ready too.” 

“Mine?” 

“Mmhm. You’re not the only one who can do surprises. So pack a bag.” 

“Pack...” you wonder. 

“Ah, ah, just get a bag, alright?” 

You can see him jittering in excitement. You hate to dampen that but you also feel bad. You made him a hat and scarf. He’s got something planned out that’s gonna at least cost him gas and his time. 

“Oh...” you murmur. 

“Don’t,” he wags a finger. “Really, come on! I wanna get there by dark.” 

“Alright, I’ll be fast.” 

You gently close the door and retreat. You can’t deny him. His words trouble you though. By dark? How far are you going? You don’t want him to do too much. 

You don’t have a lot to take. A few dresses that still fit, some stockings, your sole pair of boots, your coat, and other things just in case. It doesn’t sound like you’ll be coming back tonight. 

You come out in your coat and boots as Arvin keeps the truck idling. He meets you near the hood and takes your bag before he helps you up into the front seat. He gets in the other side and puts your bag between you. 

“Do I get a hint?” You ask. 

“Nope,” he shifts into gear. “Just hold tight.” 

💝

It’s a few hours before Arvin stops. Your eyes scour the sentinel pines all around and fall upon the painted wood of the cabin’s face. The porch pillars are stained a dark blue as the siding stands as white as the snow. It’s only the edgework along the window frames and door that make it visible amid the winterscape. 

You gasp, “Arvin?” 

“Surprise,” he exclaims. 

“What...” 

“My grandfather built this place. Ma’s dad. I been workin’ on it,” he proclaims. 

“Workin’ on it?” 

“Yep! Ma wouldn’t want you raisin’ that boy in a shed.” 

You mull his words and stare at the cabin. “Arvin, my aunt--” 

“I know, she’s a nice woman by the sounds of it. She can always come see us but you know, not many place around that’ll be as nice as her. Not when’s they see a mother with no husband.” 

You shrink down. He’s right. 

“But I’m not--” 

“Like I was saying,” he interjects, “you’re gonna be a mama. Means you need a proper house.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to argue. You don’t have any to offer as you reel in disbelief. Why would he do all this for you? It’s not his baby. You’re not his problem. 

He comes around and offers his hand. You climb out, gripping him tightly, as you flick away your tears. You sniffle and keep your head down as he leads you across the snowy yard. 

“You’re upset?” He asks as he kicks snow off the steps. 

“I’m... surprised,” you croak, trying to hide your face. “Arvin, it’s too much.” 

“Not much at all,” he counters. “But I got a new stove in and the fireplace real nice since I redid the bricks. And I got it all wired up to a gas generator.” 

“Oh,” you puff out as you climb the steps, still latched onto him. You hiccup as your tears flood over. 

“Oh?” He echoes. 

“Arvin,” you babble behind your hand. “Why-- why would you go and do all this for me?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” He tugs you toward the door. 

“But...” you choke on your words. 

You kick off your feet before you enter. He moves behind you, guiding you from behind with his hands on your arms. He stops you in a dark doorway. He lets go of you and you listen to him shifting around the dimness. He shines a flashlight into the front room. 

“Once I get the lights on, it’ll look better,” he assures. 

You shake your head, “it’s too much.” 

“Nothin’s too much,” he argues again. “Look, you need this place and you need me. You need a husband, don’t ya?” 

“Husband? Arvin, you can’t--” 

“I wanna.” 

“But--” 

“Baby boy’s not mine. No one else needa know. Them folks in Knockemstiff, the don’t go so far. And the next one will be mine. Maybe a girl--” 

“Next one?” 

“Uh huh, gonna give this one lots of brothers and sisters,” he puts his hand on your stomach. 

“I...” your heart sinks from on high. 

He’s quiet, measuring the silence as you do too. You peer into the front room then wince as he turns the light in your direction. You shield yourself as it shines in your eyes. 

“Well, you gonna tell me no?” His voice is low and silty. “Cause I don’t think no one’s gonna take you away from me. Ain’t no one else want you.” 

It’s like a knife sinking into your gut. Your frown and grab his hand, trying to shove it off your stomach. Why would he say that? He twists free of your grasp and clings to you instead. He turns the light under his chin so it casts his features in a sinister glow. 

“Without me, you and that baby’d be frozen to the side of the street,” he sneers. “All’s I’m tryna do is give you everything, you could at least do the same.”