#i’ll probably clean this up and make it look a lot better

[artsymeeshee]

Happy boys TwT

[mostly-imagines]

NSFT Alphabet

jason todd x afab!reader

warnings: >18 i’ll block ur ass stay away 18+

A = AFTERCARE

Aftercare is just as important to him as sex itself, if not more so. He’ll lay with you until you catch your breath, giving light kisses to the nearest part of your body. Once you’re back to baseline, he’ll get a warm rag to clean you up, being more gentle than he needs to be with your sensitive body. If you want it, he’ll grab one of his shirts for you to wear and pull it over your head for you. He’ll cover you up in your blankets and hold you close, murmuring to you how pretty you are, how good you did for him, how much he loves you.

B = BODY

His favorite body part of his own is his arms. He likes how strong he is, plus they emphasize his frame which plays into his size kink too. For you, it’s your waist. As we’ll discuss more later, he loves holding onto your hips during sex and he’s a big fan of kissing down your stomach as a way to initiate.

C = CUM

He prefers to come inside of you most of the time, but he likes coming in your mouth or on your body too. He will not come on your face though, he feels like it’s disrespectful to you, even if you’re into it. He’s a big guy and he comes a lot—more than he wished he would. That's part of the reason he’d rather come in you than on you, he thinks it’s embarrassing how much comes out. The first couple of times you had sex he’d tried to distract you with kisses as he came, hoping you wouldn’t notice it. Once he learns that you don’t mind it though, even like it, it eases his anxieties considerably.

D = DIRTY SECRET

He’s definitely masturbated once or twice when you were asleep next to him and he didn’t want to wake you. He felt gross about it but you looked so good with the way his shirt rode up against the curve of your ass, your panties on display. Your cheek was mushed up against the pillow next to him and he wanted to kiss you silly more than anything, but you had to be up early in the morning. So he took care of it himself, admiring your pretty face. No, he’ll never tell you that happened.

E = EXPERIENCE

He’s had sex just enough to know that he has a big dick and has to be careful when he’s fucking someone. Before you it was mostly a method of blowing off steam, but it wasn’t something he craved like he does with you. There was always minimal kissing, if any, and it was more procedural than anything. So when it comes to romantic sex, his experience was 0 but that makes it that much better. He didn’t have too much experience otherwise and he was fine with that. He had more important things to worry about than sex. That was, until he met you.

F = FAVORITE POSITION

He likes anything where he can hold your hips the most. So cowgirl and missionary are never misses, especially for how well he’s able to see your face. He also likes fucking you against the wall, it makes for easy access to kiss you. In spite of how much he loves seeing your expressions during sex, he can’t deny how much he loves holding your hips in place during doggy. His least favorites are probably prone bone and reverse cowgirl, they’re too impersonal and dispassionate.

G = GOOFY

He’s going to take it very seriously the first handful of times. He’s not taking any risks about hurting you or making the experience anything short of extremely pleasurable for you. And in his mind, to do that he needs to focus. After you get more comfortable with each other though, he starts to relax and trust himself to be able to take care of you, even with a more laid-back attitude. The silliest sex you have will be when you’re drunk/tipsy, it’s very smiley and giggly. Generally, he’ll make jokes now and again, smile at your smiles, but he’s still more serious about sex than not.

H = HAIR

He’ll trim to keep up appearances, especially after he meets you, but it’s not something he’s overly concerned about. For you, he’s really truly completely neutral about whether or not you shave, but he’s likely to encourage you not to, if not only so you know you don’t have to change anything for him. But he won’t blink twice either way.

I = INTIMACY

Sex with you is always intimate for him. He tells you he loves you during it often, praising you constantly. He brushes your hair back when it gets messy and wipes your tears away with a gentle hand. He’ll call you beautiful and kiss you nice as he fucks you, holding your hand all the while.

J = JACK OFF

He rarely needs to get himself off, really only if he’s away on a mission for a while. It’s definitely not the preferred circumstances but he’ll make do when he has to. He feels like a fucking perv when he thinks about you while he’s doing it, but he can’t come otherwise. He knows you wouldn’t care but he still feels gross about it. The way he remedies this is usually by communicating with you directly, telling you how much he misses you and how much he wants you there with him.

K = KINKS

Above all else, he has a major size kink. He absolutely loves how much bigger than you he is and it gets him going at the most random times. He likes being stronger than you and making you go/stay where he wants you. On a related note, he also likes to restrain you. The implied deepness of the trust you have in him turns him on so bad. Plus, he likes being in control, and you not being able to wiggle gives him the chance to take care of you however he wants. Edging is another one he likes but he’s not always so good at it. He has a hard time denying you and when you’re begging him so sweetly to let you come…who is he to say no? Though, if you’ve been a bit of a brat he’ll be merciless about it. On the flip side, sometimes he’ll overstimulate you but it’s not his favorite of the two because he can’t always handle seeing you cry like that. But he does like the idea of you getting lost in so much pleasure that you don’t know what to do with yourself.

L = LOCATION

His favorite place to fuck you is anywhere in your apartment. Your bed, shower, kitchen, couch, the rug…He likes it a) because it’s private and he’s free to take care of his girl whenever he wants and b) he likes seeing you in the same spot going about your day where he’d made you come just a few hours ago. He’s also not opposed to subtle car sex, especially for going down on one another. He’s not a big fan of public stuff, if he were to do it, it would be in a situation where he was certain you wouldn’t get caught. He’s too private to get off on the risk and frankly, he doesn’t much like the potential of someone else seeing you the way he gets to see you.

M = MOTIVATION

He gets turned on by just about anything you do. If you wear tank tops, his clothes, shirt and no pants, those will all get him going. Then there’s things like play fighting, seeing you stick up for yourself (especially against him), when you yell, if you just touch him. He really is in love with you and everything that you do.

N = NO

JTLHGF!jason is mainly dominant, but he can be submissive for you if you approach it the right way. You’d have to be subtle and encouraging or else his pride will get in the way. Anything him or you do in these times would be very soft and gentle, more vanilla than anything for the sake of reassurance. His biggest no here is restraints. Sex requires a lot of trust for him and as much as he does trust you, he would feel much too vulnerable tied up and he wouldn’t like it. However, when he’s the one in control he’s not afraid to be more…adventurous. That being said, he wouldn’t be into choking you or hitting you. I think even if you were very clearly into it, it would make him feel bad about himself on multiple levels. He doesn’t want to hit you, even sexually, and hates the idea of his hands around your neck. Public stuff makes him uncomfortable and degradation is a hard no for him.

O = ORAL

He prefers going down on you by a mile. He’s usually hesitant to let you do it, he doesn’t want you to feel like you have to or for you to potentially lose any pleasure during sex. He really does think it should be all about you and he has a hard time grasping that making him feel good makes you feel good too. He likes to hold your hands when he eats you out, or your waist. He doesn’t want to lose any physical contact with you—it’s a very intimate thing and he’ll treat it as such. He’s also been known to rub soothing patterns into your waist or wrap his arms around your thighs to hold them apart. When you give him head it’s overwhelming for him. He denies himself of it so much that he can’t handle it when he actually gets it. He likes to hold your hands here sometimes too, but more often than not he’s holding your hair out of your face so he can see you—the gentle weight of his opposite hand on the back of your head. He’ll struggle to catch his breath, lips parted.

P = PACE

It all depends on the mood for him. He can and will switch it up as needed. He can be very intense and rough, fast thrusts and heated kisses. This can be passionate or angry sex. He can also take it very slow and sensual, and depending on his mood, this can be either very romantic or very torturous.

Q = QUICKIE

He doesn’t really like quickies that much, he definitely prefers to take his time with you. Quickie’s don’t really allow him to prep you properly, something that’s incredibly necessary when having sex with him. Anyways he wants to make sure he’s able to give you the best experience possible and he can’t do that if he’s rushing. No, he really prefers to take as much time with you as possible.

R = RISK

As mentioned, he’s not much for risky situations. The riskiest he’ll get is car sex or sex at the manor. He might make out with you in an alleyway but he won’t full-on do it with you outside. He doesn’t want to be caught, doesn’t want to worry about it when he has more important things to focus on.

S = STAMINA

He can go for several rounds most nights and even needs to often. He feels bad about it sometimes though, he feels like one round should be enough for him and he shouldn’t need to take even more from you. Once he eventually gets it through his head that it’s okay for him to need more, he’s relentless. The thing about him is that he requires little to no recovery time post-orgasm before he’s on you again so you might have to remind him to slow down a little.

T = TOYS

He’s not the biggest fan of toys, honestly. He doesn’t like the idea of a piece of plastic making you come, doing his job for him. It also means he’s less hands on and he doesn’t like that at all. That’s not to say he wouldn’t use them ever, he just wouldn’t go out of his way to make it happen. If you had a vibrator or something and you wanted to use it he probably would, if not only so you don’t use it by yourself instead. Beyond that there’s not too much I see him wanting to use, nothing very intense for sure.

U = UNFAIR

He’s a big tease but doesn’t always have the capacity to see it through. If you beg him just the right way he just has to give you what you want. Until you’re able to crack that code though, he seems like an unbeatable force. He’s constantly touching you and it’s hard for you to tell if it’s absentminded or if there’s something more behind them. He’s an expert at attacking that one spot on your neck and getting you just as desperate as he is within a matter of minutes.

V = VOLUME

He’s a groaner and a grunter, low and deep. He, maybe intentionally, stops himself from moaning more often than not, especially when you’re first together. The best way to get him to make noise is to suck just below his jawline, caress over his v-line, or blow him. He can’t control himself when you do any of that.

W = WILD CARD

Jason secretly loves it when you give him as much shit as he gives you. He loves when you tease him, when you tell him “no, we’re not having sex you were being mean.” He can’t stop himself from smiling when you yell at him and he doesn’t even wish he could. As much as he doesn’t want to be submissive, he loves it when you don’t either.

X = X-RAY

Yeah so he’s 8.5 inches hard. He’s a big guy, it stands to reason that he’d have a big dick. It’s fat too, enough to make you cry the first time you take him.

Y = YEARNING

His sex drive is pretty fucking high after getting with you. It operates half as a means of affection and half as a stress reliever. And boy does he need stress relief. There’s phases where he wants you as much as every day, but more often than not it’s like 3-4 times a week.

Z = ZZZ

He wants you to fall asleep before him afterwards, he thinks it’s rude or something if he dozes off first. He’ll often brush his fingers up and down your back, easing you into sleep. If he’s not tired afterwards he’ll read while you nap on his chest, comforted by the in and out of your breaths.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Chan| Misunderstanding

In which you are hurt by something Chan said.

You were on your way to Chan’s studio, with a cutely wrapped pack lunch and note. You knew your boyfriend had the tendency to overwork and skip meals; so you wanted to make sure that he was eating at least one fulfilling meal a day.

Just as you were about to knock on the door you heard the guys laughing. You smiled and realized Chan must be working with all of them at the moment. It was so cute to you how he took all of them in as his kids.

You raised your hand to knock again as you heard Jeongin speak up.

“Channie Hyung, when is Noona coming today?”

You heard a shuffling of feet and a sound come closer to the door. The squeaking of styrofoam made you flinch a little as you could assume someone was getting water from the bubbler.

“I don’t know.” You tensed as you realized it was Chan by the bubbler. “She probably will at the worst time.” He said, chuckling and clapping his hands once. His voice was oddly light for something so hurtful. “But we’re gonna at least get Seungmin’s part down before she comes, because she’ll probably stick around for a while.” You can hear him walking away from the door.

“Do you not like your girlfriend coming around hyung?” You hear Jeongin say jokingly, a little nervous laugh in his voice. 

Before you can even hear a response you quickly make your way to the exit.

As you were walking you walked past Sana.

“Y/N!” She quickly embraces you and looks at you with a warm smile. “How is my favorite person doing?” Sana had actually been the one to introduce you to Chan, after you had met her and hit it off in a chance meeting.

You looked up and gave Sana a small smile, and her face immediately fell.

“What did that Pabo do? Do I have to beat him up? ‘Accidentally’ leak his latest comeback in a way that is bad?” She said seriously, squishing your cheeks, and stroking your hair like a comforting big sister.

You sniffed and shook your head. “It’s nothing…can you not tell him I was here Eonni?” You say quietly. She nods as Tzuyu walks up and smiles at you.

“Hi, Y/N!” You smile at her and wave as you make your way back to your car.

As you drive you grip the steering wheel tightly and bite your lip. 

You blink back a few tears and you make your way to your apartment.

You place the food you made for Chan in the back of your fridge, hiding the cute little ribboned package with a few jars of various things, not wishing to look at it, but not having the heart to throw away the food you spent so long preparing.

You felt too sad to even clean up the dishes you had used to make, figuring you’d go sleep off your sadness for a bit and clean up when you were in a better headspace.

(x)

You felt the bed shift beside you and familiar toned arms wrap around you. Chan’s scent engulfed you, something oceany mixed with linens  and the slight hint of sweat from his practice. This scent was something you loved, something you found yourself thinking of when you thought of home.

“I used your emergency key. You didn’t answer any of my texts, so I came over to check on you.”

You look at the clock.

11:04 p.m.

You had been asleep for a while.

“Are you sick baby?” He hummed quietly, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck and shoulder.

“Sick?” You said hoarsely.

Chan’s eyes opened in concern as he sat up and turned on the bedside lamp.

“You sound sick baby, is everything okay?” He said getting up and rustling through the drawers by your bedside, looking for the thermometer he had placed there.

“I’m…I’m not sick.” You say quietly, trying to clear your throat. You had been crying a lot and ended up irritating your throat so much from your choked sobs it had become hoarse.

“Your voice sounds…nasally and hoarse.” He mumbles, still searching. “And you didn’t come to the studio, so it figures you must be sick.” He sighs and places his hands on his hips. “I think I left an extra thermometer for you down stairs I’ll be right back baby-” You look down as he places a chaste kiss on your forehead and makes his way down stairs, his feet making a staccato rhythm on the staircase.

(x)

Once Chan had found where he placed the thermometer and cold and flu tablets he opened your fridge to find something sweet for you to use as a chaser for the cold medicine you hated the taste of oh so much.

“I think I brought her a slice of cake the other day…” He mumbled looking through the fridge. He moved some things out of the way - perhaps he was overlooking something?

After moving a pickle jar he saw something with a cute little red ribbon.

He grabbed it and unwrapped it. 

“Y/N likes those little pastry shops, they always have cute packaging…” He trailed off looking a little confused as he saw a little envelope sealed shut with a pineapple sticker. 

It was placed on top of a few containers.

“Did someone make her a care package?” Chan wondered as he opened up the containers, but quickly realized that wasn’t it at all.

You had always loved making Mexican food for Chan, since it was something you were good at and he loved. He just didn’t get to eat it much because any of the places he could find that sold it always made things too spicy for him. You made it perfectly suited to his tastes.

A small breath left his lips as he  held the envelope in his hands and carefully peeled the sticker off in a way to keep everything intact.

He smiled as he read your little note to him, and chuckled at the part where you told him to tell Han to not steal your carne asada this time and if he wanted it that he would make you some when you were able to get to the store.

He gave a contented sigh as he carefully started to prepare things to be warmed up.

He contemplated the time he should take to warm things up.

“It must be left over from a day or two since she was sick today…” He mumbled messing with the settings, until he turned towards the sink to wash his hands and noticed the pile of dishes sitting there.

A pile that was very obviously used recently. He looked over in the trash can and saw the packaging of all the ingredients you used.

He started to click things together and then thought back to the odd interaction that had happened earlier.

~~~~

“Hyung, I’m hungry ~” Han whined as Chan and him made their way towards another room.

“We can get something to eat after we finish-”

“Can’t I just eat some of what Noona brought you?” He asked, perking up a bit. “She always makes the best food.”

Chan hmmed in agreement. “She hasn’t brought anything today.”

“But its almost dinner time. She always brings-”

Han bows politely to Sana as she walks past. She stops and turns back to them.

“Ya- Chan.” He had turned around and saw his friend growing. “Stop being such a pabo and apologize quickly.” She said turning away and walking off.

Han looked at him and at Sana’s retreating figure.

“What did you do hyung?” He whispered quietly.

Cham furrowed his brows, because he was also at a loss.

~~~~

He stood in front of your bedroom door, with the plate of food in his hand, but the medicine was left on the counter.

Because you weren’t sick. 

You were sad.

“Baby?” He said quietly as he walked into your room. You were sitting up in your bed scrolling through the shows on your TV, trying to find something to watch.

You looked up as Chan set the plate of food down and you swallowed as you realized he had found it.

You didn’t say anything as he sat down on your bed with you and pulled you into his lap, putting his head in your shoulder and just holding you.

You couldn’t help but feel your lip tremble as you started to cry quietly.

“Baby, shhh, its okay.” He said stroking your hair. “You heard what I said in the studio?”

You nodded and Chan looked at you and gently help your face.

“You didn’t hear all of it though.” He sighs quietly, flattening your unruly hair. “That much is clear.” 

You sniffed and wiped at your nose with the sleeve of your sweater and continued to stroke your hair.

“If I remember correctly, the conversation went something along the lines of you coming at the worst time and staying a while right?” He looked up at the ceiling and hmms in thought. “And then I remember Jeongin asking me if I didn’t like it when my girlfriend came to the studio. And I said no.”

You looked up at him, your lips trembling more now.

“I said No- I actually love it when she comes to the studios. She always comes at the worst times. When I’m feeling unmotivated, or hitting a wall with lyrics or the arrangement. But she comes, and she charges me up with motivation and inspiration when she stays a while. She fills up my battery life.” 

You looked at him, and could tell he wasn't just saying things to make you feel better. There was truth in everything he just said.

“Baby I could never get tired of you. You take care of me so well,” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder. “Besides, if I did Sana would never let me live it down. And to be honest, she becomes really scary when it comes to you." He says shuddering and nuzzling his head into you. 

You giggle and nuzzle back into him.

“Now eat,” He says, grabbing the remote from you and putting on a random drama. It wasn’t like he would be paying much attention to it anyways, he just wanted to look at his girlfriend who he hadn't seen all day.

[jjscrybaby]

no one hurts you.

rafe cameron x fem!reader | angst | (attempted sa, murder, rafe being the best bf ever🥰)

thankyou for the req anon! i switched some stuff up, i didn’t want to add a new character (rafe’s brother like you requested) so i used topper instead bc i hate that man🙂‍↕️

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“Do you have to go?” You huffed, pouting up at your boyfriend as the two of you stood by the front door. You were covering it, arms crossed over your chest to try and stop him from going.

Rafe let out an amused chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. “It’s just a night, baby. We’ve spent longer apart.”

“Yeah, and when you came back you promised never to leave me again,” you whined, stomping your foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum. He just carried on smirking down at you, used to your behaviour after three years together.

You’d stuck by his side through everything. He got locked up, for four months after an incident with a Pogue. It was supposed to be three years, but a mixture of good behaviour and a lot of payments had him out early. It had been six months since he got out, and he’d matured incredibly. He didn’t pick fights anymore, he hadn’t touched a line of coke since before jail, and he was finally working a proper job rather than doing drug deals for Barry. You were utterly proud of him, until now.

He had a business meeting on the mainland, and he’d decided to book a hotel for the night so that he didn’t have to travel twice in one day. You were definitely unhappy with that decision, considering you hadn’t spent a second away from him since he came back home.

“Look, you’re gonna be fine. Top’s gonna come over later to hang out, and I’ll call you after the meeting. Now be a good girl and stop pouting, if this deal goes well I’ll buy you that necklace you keep lookin’ at,” he stated, making your pout vanish.

You grinned up at him, nodding your head. “Mkay. Promise you’ll call?”

“Promise,” he murmured, leaning down to press a loving kiss to your lips. You tried to keep ahold of his shoulders to stop him from pulling away, but he just smirked and eased you off of him. “See you tomorrow, gorgeous.”

“Bye,” you mumbled, another pout appearing on your lips as you realised he was actually leaving.

He patted your cheek, giving you one more fleeting kiss before he walked out the door. You didn’t move from the doorway until he’d got into the car and driven away, waving at you as he went.

You spent the majority of the day trying to distract yourself, watching rom-coms, cleaning up the house, making dinner. It was six pm when the doorbell rang, you’d honestly forgotten that Topper was coming over so when you opened the door to see him stood with a bottle of wine and a six-pack you were shocked.

“Oh, hey, Top,” you greeted, moving out the way to let him in. “You didn’t actually have to come, I’m okay by myself.”

“Rafe wanted me to stop by,” Topper shrugged, giving you a charming smile as he walked further into the home that you and Rafe had recently purchased (or Rafe had purchased and you just came along). “I can leave, if you don’t want me here.”

“No, no. The company would be nice.” It was the truth, you weren’t used to being alone and you’d started to go a little crazy with the amount of movies you’d watched.

Topper had been Rafe’s good friend for awhile, but since Rafe got out of jail and became a better man they didn’t hang out as much. Topper was still pretty immature, partying as much as he possibly could, hooking up with random chicks and texting Rafe details he didn’t need to know. He was also still big on the drug use, and Rafe knew he couldn’t be around that. But, no matter what, they were close friends, and he trusted him to take care of you.

“Cool. I brought you some wine, know you aren’t a huge fan of beer,” he teased, holding the bottle out to you.

You tilted your head, accepting it with a cautious smile. “Didn’t realise we would be drinking.”

“Yeah, well, I figured you’re probably grumpy with Rafe gone and a drink could loosen you up.” He winked, trying to portray his words as a joke, but something about his tone made your chest tighten uncomfortably.

“Right,” you agreed with an awkward laugh. “Um, we can sit in the living room.”

You’d poured yourself a glass of wine, but you’d only had a few sips. Topper, on the other hand, had finished five out of six of the beers. You’d started off on opposite sides of the couch, but over the last half an hour he’d slowly edged his way closer to you. You’d noticed it, of course you had, but you were trying not to think anything of it. He was Rafe’s friend, he was here as a favour, you felt guilty for feeling so uncomfortable around him.

“I like that skirt,” Topper murmured, hazy eyes looking your outfit up and down.

“Um, thanks. Rafe got it for me,” you said, tugging it down as you noticed it had ridden up.

Topper’s fingers brushed against your skirt, your whole body tensed up. “It’s nice.”

“Thankyou,” you replied, trying to move away from him without it being noticeable. Except that was impossible, and he picked up on it immediately.

“Somethin’ wrong?” He asked, tilting his head to the side as he faced you. You shook your head, giving him a shaky smile. “C’mon, have some more wine.”

You didn’t want more wine, you wanted to kick him out and go to bed, but he’d come all the way here, and he’d paid for the bottle, you felt rude to not drink it. You reached for your glass and took a few more sips, his eyes watching your every move.

“There we go,” Topper grinned as the last sip went down your throat, you grimaced at the sour taste and put the glass back down on the coffee table.

Another twenty minutes went by, Rafe’s meeting would be over soon and he’d promised to call. You wanted Topper out by then, so you could have a conversation without feeling like a bad hostess. You turned to him, noticing how his eyes were already on you.

“Um, it’s getting late…” you hinted, messing with your necklace.

“I thought maybe I could stay over.” Your eyes widened at his words, you were certain Rafe wouldn’t have suggested that. Him being here for an hour or two was fine, but for the night? You didn’t want that, and you were sure your boyfriend wouldn’t either.

Before you could even respond, his hand landed on your thigh. Your words got caught in your throat, heart racing with anxiety as you stared down at his hand. His rings were cold against your skin, his thumb starting to rub circles into your inner thigh as he edged his hand higher and higher.

You jumped up, staring at him like he’d lost his mind. “I think you should leave now, Topper.”

“What?” He laughed, looking up at you as if it was you that had done something wrong. “Seriously? I’m not going to tell Rafe, a’ight? You don’t need to worry about that.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You exclaimed.

Topper stood up, towering over you with a scowl on his face. “Stop acting dumb. I know how you feel about me, I’ve seen the looks. I mean, shit, wearing that tiny skirt when you knew I was coming over.”

“I— I forgot you were coming, Top. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I’m happy with Rafe—” you started to ramble, hands growing sweaty.

“Bullshit!” Topper snapped, glaring down at you. “You want me, I know you do.” His hands landed on your hips, gripping so tightly you were sure it would leave a mark. You shoved at his chest, but he didn’t move. He leant down and tried to kiss you, which had you using all your strength to pull out of his embrace and rush out the room.

You ran all the way upstairs, to your shared bedroom with Rafe, and locked the door behind you. You sat by the window, breathing heavily with tears down your cheeks as you waited to see him leave. After twenty minutes of him yelling at you through the locked door, he finally departed. It was only once he was out of sight that you ran downstairs and locked all the doors and windows.

Rafe called you as you were pacing the bedroom, you couldn’t bring yourself to pick up.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

It didn’t take a genius to notice you were acting off. It had been a week since Rafe returned, and you’d been jumpy, flinching every time he leaned down to kiss you, pushing him away when he’d try and initiate something, anything.

He was sick of it. At first he’d thought you were just being a brat because he’d left, figured you’d be back in his arms by the next day, but nothing had changed and he was starting to feel as if you weren’t even his girlfriend anymore.

“You comin’ to bed?” He asked, looking at where you sat on the opposite side of the couch; eyes hardly open as you stared at the tv.

“After this episode. You can go,” you mumbled. It was the same every night, you’d wait until he was asleep to crawl into bed even when you were falling asleep.

“Alright, enough of this shit,” he snapped, making you look over at him in surprise.

“What?”

“Why are you actin’ like this? Did I do somethin’?” He asked, begged, for an answer. You opened your mouth to answer, but all that came out was a choked sob. His anger faded and was replaced with panic, he moved so he was sat right up next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Baby, just talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t,” you argued through a sob, covering your face with your hands.

He pulled your hands away, hands on your face to force you to look at him. “Yes, you can. You can tell me anything. Just tell me what the problem is and I’ll fix it, okay? I’m worried, baby. You’ve been bein’ so weird the last week.”

You thought you’d be able to get over it, thought maybe it wouldn’t bother you all that much, but every time you took a second to think you’d be reminded of what happened. Topper’s hands on your hips, the look in his eyes as he leaned down to kiss you. You didn’t want to tell Rafe, what if he was mad at you? What if he believed that you really had given Topper signs?

“Something happened when you were away,” you whispered shakily, big tears running down your cheeks. You couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore, you had to tell him.

“What happened?” He murmured softly, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone.

“When— when Topper came ‘round, he…” you trailed off, shaking your head. “I can’t say it.”

His eyes narrowed, fear taking over. “What did Topper do?” His tone wasn’t soft anymore, it was angry, dark, you hadn’t seen that look in his eyes since before he went to jail.

“He… he was touchy, too touchy, he tried to kiss me,” you confessed, feeling both relief and panic at the fact you’d finally told him the truth. “He was saying loads of stuff, about how he’s seen the way I look at him and that he knew I liked him. I promise, Rafe, I don’t know what he’s talking—”

“Hey,” Rafe cut you off, tone sharp. “Non of this is your fault, you hear me? I’m not mad at you, I’m not disappointed in you, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

A sigh of relief left your lips as you collapsed into his chest, sobbing as you clung to him. He stroked your hair, mumbling praise into your ear to try and calm you down. Eventually, you exhausted yourself so much that you fell asleep against his chest. He lifted you up and carried you to bed, but instead of getting in beside you he grabbed his gun from the bedside table and left the house.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

When you woke up the next morning the space beside you was empty. Your head hurt from all the crying you’d done, your eyes felt heavy but you forced yourself out of bed. You walked downstairs, finding Rafe sat at the kitchen counter with an unfamiliar phone in his hand.

“Rafe?” You murmured tiredly, moving to stand next to him. He looked up at you, bags under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept a wink. His arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you into his lap.

“Hey, you sleep okay?” He asked softly, kissing your temple as he kept his eyes on the phone.

“Yeah… what’re you doing up?” You questioned. There was a look in his eyes, manic and angry. You ran your hand over his cheek, making his eyes flicker over to you.

“Listen, baby, I need you to do somethin’ for me. Somethin’ I promised you’d never have to do again,” he sighed.

“What is it?” You asked worriedly.

“If anyone asks, I was here, with you, all of last night,” he stated, making your eyes narrow in confusion.

“Were you not here all night?” You stared at him, waiting for him to give you an explanation.

He didn’t get the chance, because the next thing you know your phone is pinging with a text from Sarah. Have you heard the news about Topper? Followed by: is Rafe okay?

“Rafe, what happened to Topper?” You asked shakily, looking between him and your phone.

“He got what he deserved,” Rafe replied bluntly. He leant in a kissed your cheek. “I’m sorry, baby. I took it too far, I know that. But no one hurts you, no one.”

You should have been horrified, running from him or calling the cops, but you didn’t want to do either of those things. You leant in and pressed your lips to his, his arms around you tightening.

It was no secret that Rafe would kill for you, you just never thought it would actually happen.

[miirohs]

world burning [c.l.c]

pairing: Mob Boss!Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader wc: 1.4k cw: someone is literally shot, charles kisses reader a bit forcefully an: to the anon who said they'd sell me their soul my cashapp is @bestfanficwriterever (jk jk, i hope that anon sees this tho). Real reminder to you all, again, that non of this stuff is to be encouraged irl and this is all meant as a fictional scenario!

“Charlie?”

You could hear him softly cursing in French on the other line, whispering as the bed creaked in the background. It was obvious he had just woken up, and you felt terrible for waking him as well, knowing the day he probably had.

“Qu'est-ce qu'il y a, tu ferais mieux d'avoir une bonne raison de me réveiller (what's the matter, you'd better have a good reason for waking me up)-”

“Charles, I've been arrested, I need someone to come get me.” 

The muttering stopped, grogginess disappearing from his voice almost instantly. “Y/n? Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé bon sang chéri (y/n? what the hell happened darling)?”

“Charles, not now please,” You chastised softly, looking to the door as the guards quietly conversed among themselves outside the room, “I have no idea why this is happening and what they’re gonna do to me.” “How did you even manage to get arrested… Nevermind that, I just hope you haven’t answered anything they've asked of you.” He groaned, heavy thumping over the phone as you looked nervously at the door for any indication they’d been listening to your conversation.

“I’m not that dull,” You said quietly, looking down at your lap, “and it couldn't have been anything i did, all they did was seize the car from me in the lot and bring me here.”

He paused for a moment, silent over the line. You pressed the phone against your ear, straining for any sounds on the other side of the line.

“Stay put. I’m coming to get you.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you fumbled, tripping over your words in a hurry to get them out.

“Char, what are you planning on doing?”

He laughed humorlessly over the phone, the sound of keys jingling and door slamming making you jump back from the phone as if it’d grown a head.

“Exactly what I said I'm going to do, come and pick you up.”

You swallowed the thick ball that’d formed in your throat.

“You know what- never mind, send someone else in your place, maybe Carlos?” You bargained, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Pas de souci, mon amour. Je ne fais que commencer (no worries, my love. I'm just getting started). They should’ve learned not to fuck with the wrong person. I’ll be there in another 20 minutes, you won’t need to call anyone else.”

You shivered as the line went dead, looking at the now opened door, all the cops watching you with a suspicious look.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

All you could do was shake your head.

Not even a grand total of 15 minutes later, a shouting match erupted, followed by loud bangs.

There was a single person you could think of who was capable of this level of chaos, and you could have swore you’d heard him threatening the cops right now.

“Where is she?”

“Sir-”

“Don’t sir me, where the hell is she? Don’t tell me I have to blow another head off just for you to tell me.”

Everything seemed to fall silent for a couple moments, only a few voices daring to make a sound.

“Char?” You called out, a couple beats of silence weighing you down.

The sound of footsteps only got louder, stopping in front of the room you were in.

Keys jangled, the door slamming open as Charles walked in, a couple of police tailing him timidly to the outside of the door.

There were dark stains on his otherwise clean shirt, an indication of what happened visible in the peeved look on his face. Your eyes slowly trailed to his hand, a gun held tightly in his grip, smoking oh so slightly.

Noticing how your attention had drifted to the weapon, he put it down on the other side of the table as he approached you, shrugging off his jacket as he approached you.

“Tu vas bien maintenant (you're all right now),” He said quietly, running his fingers through your hair as he pulled you to him, “Come on, we’re going home.” 

You clutched his arm as he stood you up, eyes glued to the floor as you walked next to him.

You could hear their disappointed exhales, tinged with a bit of surprise as Charles kept a firm grip on your back, guiding you through the long hall to the main office.

As you continued to walk, he gently stopped you, turning around in the middle of the room as someone called for him.

“Fucks sake,” He sighed, turning around.

“Sir, i believe there has been a mistake-”

“What sort of mistake do you think you’ve made?” He snarled, his hand running down to your hand, lacing his fingers into yours.

“You see, the car we identified was yours and we thought that perhaps she’d stole it-”

“And you didn’t think to call me so I could deal with them myself?” He chuckled humorlessly, pulling you to his side. You held your breath, completely aware of what was about to happen.

“Charles, no-”

He shook his head at you, basically telling you to not interfere. You obliged, eyebrows creasing as you watch the poor man who had tried to explain himself get shoved to his knees.

“First off, you interrupt my very precious time, and then you have the audacity to say that you’ve made a mistake?” He stands back, waving at someone behind him to step forward to his side with a gun. “Do you know who she is?”

The man stumbled over his words, trying to plead for his life, but you already knew it was too late.

“Since you don’t seem to know, let me tell you. She’s the last face you’ll be seeing but since she’s here, I've decided to spare the rest of you for the time being. If I ever hear of anything happening to her again, anyone in this room will not be spared like they were today.” He remarked bemusedly, turning to you with the widest grin you’d ever seen from him.

“Chéri, close your eyes, and cover your ears as well.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. The second you did, there was a bang, followed by a thumping sound.

Something warm was on your face, but you didn’t dare open your eyes, shaky hands coming off your ears to touch your face.

“Don’t.” He was closer than you thought, causing you to jump as he rubbed what you assumed was a handkerchief against your face . “Don’t say anything, don’t look, just follow me.” 

You cracked open an eye, briefly wandering to the pool of blood a couple of feet away from you.

“What did I just tell you?” He remarked, barking at the rest in rapid french as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the doors of the station.

There was an awkward silence as you lumbered into the passenger side seat, pressing yourself against the seat as he pulled out and onto the road.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” He muttered, hand reaching over to squeeze your thigh.

“I thought you’d be upset with me.” You looked down, noticing the dried blood on his hands, not that it made much of a difference to you anymore. Less than two years ago, you would have been horrified at the idea of blood within six feet of you, but you had come to accept it as a part of him you could never erase.

“No-” He punched the brakes, eyes slightly apologetic as you jumped from the sudden shock of stopping.

“No, no, Y/n, look at me,” His hand left your thigh, fingers curling around your chin and pulling your face to his, “You are not responsible for any of that, i gave you the car, remember? You are not to blame yourself because I would gladly do anything for you.”

“Char-” You whined, muffled slightly by the pressure of his fingers against your cheeks.

“I would give you the world to see you happy, so shut up and take it.” He pressed his lips harshly against yours, almost needy in the way he nipped at your bottom. Warmth seemed to stir inside you as he let you go, your own mind racing at a million miles per hour as he returned to the wheel as if nothing had happened.

However, under his breath, he muttered something that even escaped you as your thoughts drifted off elsewhere. “Le monde brûlera, si tu le veux ma chérie, je te le promets (the world will burn, if you want it to my darling, I promise).”

[retiredteabag]

soft Toji dog-sitting for a generous!reader

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - next

synopsis: Toji takes up dog-sitting for you and learns to appreciate his new job, in more ways than one.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Time came and went with Toji’s frequent dog sitting. Despite the workhorse owner seemingly never being home, the dog appeared well cared for and happy.  The place became a second home for the man. On one particular 8:00 o’clock morning, he found a long note… and a hundred dollars.

“Mr. Fushiguro, we will be getting lots of rain this week, I can’t ask you to walk him like you usually would but if it’s not too much trouble, please just take him outside and let him go to the bathroom. I’ve got a raincoat in the closet by the garage, a towel for the dog, and umbrellas by the door, please utilize whatever. There are towels for you in the guest bath, I will do the laundry when I get home, please just toss them on the floor.” – y/n  

Toji had never seen a dog so thrilled to be out in the rain. A scoff shook Toji when he found the raincoat. There was no universe where it would've fit him. The dog bounded to the door and sat patiently for Toji to open the umbrella.

It had been painfully humid that day, the rain was torrential, and he was drenched, even with the umbrella. He normally wouldn’t use someone else's shower and he rarely ever did in his previous line of work.

Back then he learned that using his client's utilities gave them the strange impression that they were more than a couple bucks to him. He liked to avoid messes like that and preferred his own (much smaller) shower anyway.

Even so, when the dog and he made it back, the pristine floors and counters stuck out more than ever. He would have to be at the house for a while that day, he figured he should probably clean himself.

If it weren’t for the loving pooch, the place would look unlived in. It was strange to think that before Toji got there and after he left anyone occupied the space at all.

The shower had been better than he’d ever remembered having. He tossed the towels in the wash and waited around. Toji was making more and more, working back-to-back days and he had learned to expect the apology text,

“I’m so sorry, I won't be making it back tonight, can you stay till 10?”

Toji always responded by liking the message. Their text logs looked like a line of grey text with numerous “thumbs up” reactions.  

Eventually, the day came when he did not have a note on the counter. The first day where there was a sign of life in the house, a mess. The dog had been anxiously circling Toji when he arrived. Tissues on the counter, trash not taken out, fridge empty, and what really stuck out to him, no money.

Toji couldn’t care less about how the owner lived, but if he was promised pay, he expected pay. No matter how generous the owner had been in the past. He knew it had been an honest mistake when he texted for the first time in weeks.

“Hey. Dog looks good. Were you planning on going to the bank this morning?”

It took a while for him to get a response but when he finally did, they came in quick succession.

“Oh my gosh”

“Mr. Fushiguro, I am so sorry!!”

“I promise it wasn’t intentional, I’ll be back early tonight, don’t worry about feeding him dinner, I’ll Zelle you for today and tomorrow.”

He hadn’t been upset or anything. The owner had been more than lavish with their money, Toji has never been so flush with cash from so little labor. That thought was what caused him to respond,

“No worries.”  

Toji arrived the next morning and for the first time, was met with…. Nothing? Usually, the dog was quick with its futile tackle attempts. Not today I guess Toji thought.

Toji called for the dog and he came running; just not in the way he usually did. Toji noticed immediately, the whining, the huffing, the wiggling, and the ever-constant pushing at his thigh.

“What? What is it, boy?” Toji asks.

The dog let out a particularly loud cry and ran back to the master bedroom. Toji looked around the kitchen, the first room from the foyer he entered. No note on the counter. But what he did find was a half-full glass of water, a ramekin with a cocktail of pills, and an iPhone with a silent alarm on the lock screen. An alarm was set for 5:42. It was 8:17.

The frantic dog rushed back to find Toji at the kitchen counter with the phone in his hand. He whimpered, nudging Toji with his face. It didn’t take long for the dog to practically drag Toji by the pantleg to the master bedroom.

“What? What?” Toji was looking around the room to see what had the big guy so agitated. It would be a lie to say Toji hadn’t done some snooping around the house. He'd wanted to see how the lavish owner lived. It's fair to say that he had never seen the bedroom look so…disrupted. Toji came around the bed where a potentially human-sized lump lay under a pile that consisted of sheets, a blanket, and an exceptionally fluffy duvet.

                “Excuse me?” Toji knocked his knuckles on the dresser by the bed. Still not totally sure if there was life under all the pillows. “Excuse me.” He said, firmer. Toji raised his eyebrows when a long…noise… escaped painfully from the frump on the bed.

                “Hello? You paid me for today, you know?”

There was a shaky stretch he could see from under the fluff. Then, as though burned with a branding iron, the shape jolted up. Toji was struck by the view of the women before him. Screaming in shock.

             ��  The dog began to whine again between Toji and the woman on the bed. You were making loud, unintelligible exclamations. The dog was licking at his paw.

                “H-hello???!” You were nothing like what Toji was expecting. But then again, he wasn’t sure what he had expected from the ghost that was the owner of this place.

                “Ms. y/n? You paid me to come today.” Toji had taken a step back, he was well aware that he was a frightening presence, especially for the seemingly young and unarmed woman sitting up in her bed.

                “Mr. Fushi-“ a cough “guro?!” your eyes stretched comically wide, and made to jump out of bed, but then you saw how close Toji was, and thought again, “I-I didn’t!” Your hands fly to your head, “Oh God….”

Toji stepped back a ways, he wasn’t sure what he should do or say. The women before him seemed… unwell, to say the least. Weak, for sure, cold too maybe.

                “But it’s….” You began.

                “It’s Friday, you paid me last night for yesterday and today, I can leave if you’d like, but I ain’t got the cash on me…”  

                “No, no, no!” Finally, you stumbled from your bed, seemingly no longer frightened by Toji’s looming form, you seemed flushed, and damp? Definitely unwell. “I-I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I let this happen, I swear I set an alarm…”

You spin around and almost slam directly into Toji's chest. Shrieking, you pulled back and stumbled on your own footing. In the same breath Toji grabs you by the shoulder and righted your center of gravity.

Hot. He thinks She was irregularly warm. He let go and stepped back.

There was once a time when a touch like that would mean nothing, but now, he feels unsure if it was the right move. This woman was nothing like his previous clients.

                “I’m so sorry! But… My phone…” Your eyes survey the desk by the bed. A thermometer sat idly by the lamp.

“I’ve got it here.” Toji waved the device before your eyes, “You left it on the counter back there.” He tilted his head toward the kitchen.

The meek women seemed to no longer fear Toji at all, snatching her phone quickly and moaning loudly. “Oh God!” You echoed.

You shuffle on your feet, unsure of which direction to turn, then finally decide to turn to Toji where he stands staring.

                “I- cannot. Apologize. Enough. Please, you stay here, I need to go, I am so late. I- Thank you, for taking care of my boy.” You were huffing. Stress welled in your form but you squeezed the sides of your temples and rushed to slip shoes on.

                “Excuse me.” Toji felt uncomfortable and out of place in this woman's presence but she was insane if she thought she could work in this condition. Not only due to her clear illness, but also, she was currently wearing a professional pair of flats, green and black oversized plaid pajama pants, and a thick black crewneck. “You… can’t work like this.” He made a face.

You look down at yourself. “Oh, I’m-I’m so embarrassed, and I’m sorry. I have extra clothes in the office, I can change there… I can’t believe this happened.” Your hoarse voice had scratched and faded significantly from the screaming you had done moments before. “Thank you, for waking me, and staying with the dog.”

                “Erm…No, I mean, you can’t work…like this” Toji’s hand motioned to rake over your appearance. Like Hello? You are not presentable. “You're sick.”

                “I’m-no! I’m on the recovery side. I’ll be okay.” You state, wobbling on your “recovering” feet.

                “I don’t think so.” Toji wasn’t trying to be pushy but it was laughable to think someone in your condition was anything but grossly ill. “I think you should call out.”

Your eyes jump at the thought. “I can’t, I’m sorry that this happened, I’ll be sure it won't again. I can't believe-ugh!”

Your exasperation was clear, and no, you were not recovering. You had come home last night beyond exhausted. You had left that morning knowing you were sick. You had left work early, (by 5:30) in hopes that sleep would help you body. But the exhaustion had overtaken you. You can recall taking medicine, placing some out for this morning, and then…. Flopping in bed.

Damn it. This was your fault. And after all the work you had done. The panic had settled into disappointment. And the large man that was supposedly your very attentive and efficient dog sitter was still in your bedroom. Staring at you. In your pajamas. Nice.

“Ya can't work like that. How about I walk the dog, you take the drugs you’ve got in that little cup and go back to bed.” He pauses and. Blood rushes to your face. He gives you a once over, “Maybe wash up.”

You were gonna kill yourself.

There were a million “no!” arguments that came to your mind but they were so jumbled in your fuzzy mind. Another reason for your self-induced frustration. The man was already walking out of your bedroom, your big dog in toe. Your boy!? The dog who hated everyone (especially men) but you?? He was leaving YOU for HIM? That was it.

You waddle back to your bed and flop face first into your pillow and wail. No tears come but the embarrassment and anger fill you so full you need it out of your system in some way.

Checking your (nearly dead) phone you find that it is nearly nine, you weren’t THAT late, this could work. But at the realization that you wouldn’t arrive until almost ten, and the sweat pricking at your neck, all the motivation to make it flooded from your bones. You work from home on the weekend anyway, if you went in today you would likely just humiliate yourself more.

You resigned yourself to the bathroom after taking some medicine, desperate to get yourself clean before the dog sitter returned.

Toji decided to take a slower pace on their morning walk. He had an odd feeling in his stomach. All he could that was that this dogs mom was not what he had expected.

It had become a game for Toji- to guess what the homeowner was like. A decrepit golfer with time for nobody but himself? An old, entitled maid, desperate to appear young? A middle-aged guy like himself, too busy trading stocks to feed his own dog?

Yet today proved that all of his ideas were wrong... you were younger than he had envisioned. You had big, full eyes and you had smiled so shyly while thanking him.

He hadn't meant to embarrass you but your face when he told you you were unpresentable just made him laugh. Your eyebrows knitting together, and your (already heated) facade seemed to rush with more blood. Your downcast gaze had lifted to show a pathetically self-deprecating smile. Toji laughed despite himself.

You had seemed small. But in the moment he had spoken to you, you had shrunk even more. No. Not what he was expecting at all.

And despite himself and his greed. He couldn’t help but hope that he wouldn’t be needed here for a little while.

It seemed like you needed to stay home for a while.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

pt. 3

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Part two of this Worst!Logan request

A/N: Thank you for all the love on part 1; I hope you enjoy part 2 just as much! I have a lot of request that I am currently working on but request are still open for both Logan and Bucky!

Where we left off:

Logan was left standing in his room with wide eyes. Wade was trying to convince you that he loves you…why would you need the convincing? Obviously Logan knew that he needed convincing, like look at him? Hundreds of years older than you, from a whole different universe than you, full of a dark past and trauma…but you loved him too? Or at least you did before he threw a hissy fit tonight. 

FUCK! Logan yelled out when he realized that he had to go fix this now! 

*********************************************************************** 

Logan had to fix his stupidness. After the realization hit him like a truck he rushed out of the apartment with no shoes on. You only lived down the hall, something Logan was always thankful for, and he was even more thankful for it tonight. He reached your door in seconds and knocked on your front door with such force that he was slightly afraid that he might’ve broken the door. I’ll fix it later. He thought to himself as he tried to catch his breath and fix his hair before you opened the door. 

You opened the door far too quickly for his liking, yet way too slow. He was already in his head trying to convince himself that it was probably better for you to be mad at him, for you to not want him around anymore. That’d keep you safe…it would keep him safe. Feelings can be dangerous, relationships and getting close to someone can be dangerous. But he would die if he didn’t have you in his life anymore, he’s gotten greedy, selfish, he’s gotten comfortable for the first time in a long time and he isn’t ready to lose that yet. He won’t lose you, not when he knows you love him back. 

He was in the middle of fixing his hair when you opened the door, embarrassment flooded his body and he quickly ripped his hand away from his hair. “Logan?” You croaked out weakly, your voice thick with tears. His heart breaks in a way it never has before when he looks you in the eyes and sees the redness, the puffiness, the tears falling freely. “Oh. Oh darlin I am such a fool.” His shoulders fell and his own voice thickens with tears. The shame he felt when you started to reassure him made him want to dig his own claws into himself, he shook his head interrupting you and started going into a rant before he even realized what he was doing. 

“I am a fool! I was so wrapped in my own head that I convinced myself that for some fucking reason you were already taken and I didn’t want to get in between you and Wade-” You cut him off quickly, “Wade!?!” Logan winced when you exclaimed his roommates name, “I know okay! I know how ridiculous I’ve been, I was so blinded by you being close to Wade and all of the whispers and the sharing of clothes and the touching that I didn’t even notice the way you would get up early to make my coffee or stay up late when I had to work a closing shift even though you had to be up at 5 in the morning, I didn't notice that you always asked me how I was doing and never took okay or fine as an answer. I didn't even realize that you only cleaned my wounds and allowed Wade's wounds to get infected if he didn't clean them himself! I didn’t allow myself to see how much you cared about me because I still don’t think I deserve that; I don’t deserve tenderness, the soft caresses and whispers…I don’t deserve you darlin I just don’t.” He ended his rant with a whisper, nearly ashamed of himself for feeling this way and for admitting this aloud to someone as caring as you. 

He knows how much you care about him, he knows you won’t judge him or be mad at him for long, but he is so ashamed that he ever doubted you, there’s still a part of him that’s upset with himself for being so mad towards Wade when he thought you were with Wade. Wade deserves someone as kind and loving as you, Logan just wants to be greedy and keep you to himself.  You could tell that Logan was starting to get back into his head, he was starting to get that dazed off look in his eyes, it was like he was in another word when he started overthinking like this. “Logan” You called out to him before slowly touching his arm. “Why don’t you come inside? I’ll make us some coffee or tea and we can talk about where you’re taking me on our first date.” He looked at you with clear shock on his face, he was fully prepared for you to tell him to fuck off. Your laugh ringed through the air making his heart mend back together again. “Come on you fool” You teased him with a smirk and a quick roll of your eyes, he stumbled over his feet and ended up on your couch quicker than he could notice. 

It was the first time he had actually been in your apartment, and he never wanted to leave. Looking around it looked very you, very lived in, very homey. Your warmth surrounded him, your scent enveloped him, it felt like home. It felt like peace. 

You came back with two mugs and handed him his with that soft smile that he fell in love with. You sat next to him and started listing ideas for what the two of you could do for your first date; “We could go to dinner, we could watch a movie, we could go to a museum, we could–” You ended up sitting your mug on your coffee table in front of the couch at some point during your ramble, Logan wasn’t sure when it happen but he is positive that it did happen because he’ll never forget the feeling of your head on his shoulder as you finally decided where the two of you would go this weekend for your first official date. 

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

@aoi-targaryen

@eyes-ofhell

@sad0ni0n

@fries11

@squishyfruitloop

@negan-morningstar

@p3ryt0n

@ayamenimthiriel

[sserasin]

thinking abt toxic ex bf!yeonjun….

toxic ex!yeonjun

cw nsfw under cut, noncon, dubcon, female reader, jealousy, degrading names, brief mention of revenge porn, manipulation, dacryphilia, fingering (reader receiving)

toxic ex!yeonjun is so much worse than a toxic fwb!yeonjun cause he’s already had a taste of you, and he’s quite literally obsessed.

ex!yeonjun who can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else, and he knows he should let it go. but he loves you too damn much.

ex!yeonjun who gets pissed and jealous no matter who you’re talking to. it could be your best friend for years and he’d send you a stupid ass text talking about how you were moving on too fast, that you were a dirty whore who was good for nothing other than being a cumdump.

ex!yeonjun who retaliates by sending the nudes you sent him to his friends, his teammates, spreading them across school. it lowers your reputation and thus, getting rid of a lot of competition for him. but then he ends up regretting it because now his teammates are talking about how hot your body is and how easy it would be to fuck you.

ex!yeonjun ex!yeonjun was a perfect boyfriend, and he’s an even better manipulator. he lies and tells you that his icloud was hacked. and you, so desperate to cling to anyone you have left, stupidly believe him.

ex!yeonjun who soothes your cries, holding you in his arms and wipes your tears away. but he’s always had a thing for making you cry, and even out of sex, you’re just so goddamn beautiful crying— he can’t help that his cock hardens at the sight of the tears.

ex!yeonjun who whispers promises of making you feel better, showing you that you don’t deserve those scum sending you anonymous hate messages, as his lips trail down your neck and to your cleavage.

ex!yeonjun sneaks a hand in your pants, collecting your juices with his fingers before mercilessly pushing two of his fingers on, muffling your gasp with his mouth. “just, be a good girl for me,” yeonjun murmurs. the painful intrusion of his fingers lessen as he quickly finds your g-spot, ramming his fingers into the spot and curling them.

ex!yeonjun whose lips curl into a brief wicked smile as he watches you pant from your orgasm, licking his fingers clean. your fingers curl around his wrist, stopping him from moving (as if he was going to) and look up at him with wet eyelashes and pretty eyes, “i want more.”

ex!yeonjun who pushes you down on your bed, pulling your pants off fully, saying, “yeah? you always just want more and more, huh?” his words don’t exactly make sense, but your brain is too fogged over with sex, sex, and sex that you don’t care. you just want whatever he can give you. “i’ll give you what you want,” he only pulls his cock out, sliding it through your folds teasingly.

ex!yeonjun who grins when you beg, raising a hand to your neck to hold you there, “say you love me.” you blink, saying it without hesitation. “good girl,” he presses all of himself in you, cutting off your moan. he hisses, “fu—fuck, you’re such a good— hole. always so tight for me.”

ex!yeonjun who demands to know who else you’ve fucked or had any bit of a situationship with while you were broken up in the middle of sex. “what was his na— fuck, name?” “how far did you go?” and when you question him, “because it fuckin’ matters. tell me.” only gives you an orgasm when you agree to block the person, and definitely watches you block them after you’ve finished.

ex!yeonjun who doesn’t stop there, isolating you from your remaining friends and family. tells you lies about them, that they’ve been talking about you behind your back. convinces you not to confront them and simply block and ignore. they don’t deserve your time. somehow always leads up to sex, or he’s saying that shit during sex ‘cause he knows that’s when you’re most compliant— split on his cock.

ex!yeonjun will probably never reveal his true colors until you somehow find out— but he won’t let that happen. he’s got you wrapped around his finger, with no one to turn to.

[blackenedsnow]

Heyy, if you’re comfortable doing so could I please get some Beetlejuice x fem!reader who’s a single mom? Just pretty much him being soft and comforting letting her know she’s doing a good job etc? Thank you in advance 💕💕💕 can be a proper fic or headcanons I’ll let you decide xx

beyond it

WARNING: References to the stress of single motherhood

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Single Mother! Reader

NOTE: I absolutely loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for the request 💕💕

SUMMARY: Beetlejuice surprises you by being a source of comfort, helping you see that you’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.

It was late—too late for you to still be up. But as a single mom, you didn’t have the luxury of falling into bed as soon as the day ended. No, there were dishes to clean, laundry to fold, and tomorrow to worry about. And of course, your child had woken up twice already, needing reassurance from a nightmare.

You were running on fumes, slumped on the couch, your face buried in your hands. It felt like all you ever did was work. Just when you thought you could finally close your eyes and sleep, your thoughts picked up again—worrying about what needed to be done tomorrow, whether you were doing enough, whether your child was okay.

“Hey, dollface, rough night?”

This fucking guy.

That voice—raspy, familiar—cut through the fog of exhaustion like nails on a chalkboard. Beetlejuice. You didn’t bother looking up. He was probably lounging in his usual spot, perched on the armrest of your couch with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

"Go away, BJ," you muttered half-heartedly. "Not tonight."

The ghoul groaned dramatically. "Aw, come on! And here I thought we were past the whole 'piss off, Beej' stage of our relationship." You felt a cold presence next to you, then his hand—decaying yet surprisingly gentle—lightly brushed your shoulder. "I mean, after all the times I’ve stuck around, don’t I get any appreciation?"

You exhaled sharply, finally lifting your head. "Appreciation? For what, exactly?"

"For being a goddamn delight, babes!" Beetlejuice beamed, leaning back against the couch and spreading his arms wide. "For hanging around when no one else does. Gotta say, not a lot of folks could handle a single mom with your level of stress."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile tugging at your lips. "If by 'hanging around,' you mean constantly being a nuisance, then yeah, sure."

Beetlejuice chuckled, his voice rough yet oddly soothing. His eyes, usually wild and manic, softened just a bit as they focused on you. “Ah, you love it. Don’t lie, babe.”

You shook your head, sinking deeper into the couch. "I’m just… tired, Beej. I'm really tired."

For once, he didn’t launch into another sarcastic quip. Instead, Beetlejuice shifted closer, his body language relaxed but attentive. “Yeah, I know. I can see it. You’ve been runnin' yourself ragged for, what, weeks? Months?”

Your eyes welled up, but you quickly blinked the tears away. “I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough. There’s always something I’m missing, something I should be doing better.”

Beetlejuice’s hand rested fully on your shoulder now, his touch surprisingly solid. "Oh, come on, you're killing it out here, babe. You think your kid’s got it bad? They've got you. And lemme tell ya, you’re doing a hell of a job. Better than most."

You glanced over at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Really? You think so?"

“Are you kidding? Babe, I see it. I see you juggling work, taking care of the kid, making sure they're happy. And yeah, it’s messy and chaotic, but guess what? They're fine. They're happy, ‘cause you’re busting your ass for 'em.” He leaned in a little closer, his expression for once free of mischief. “You’re doin' more than enough."

His words hit you hard, in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t know why, but hearing it from Beetlejuice—someone who you never thought would care about anything—meant something. It eased the tight knot that had been sitting in your chest all day.

“I just don’t want to mess them up,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “They deserve better than… than this.”

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, sweetheart." Beetlejuice’s voice softened. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “They've got you, and that’s more than enough. You’re not perfect—who the hell is?—but you're trying. And that's what matters. Trust me, when they grow up, they're gonna see that.”

You allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head against his chest. His suit smelled like a mix of dirt and decay, but there was something oddly comforting about the way he held you, like he was actually trying to be there for you, to support you in his own weird way.

“Hey, tell you what,” he said, his voice low. “Next time you feel like crap, I’ll stick around. We’ll cause some shit together, huh? Might help take the edge off.”

You chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

Beetlejuice grinned, but it wasn’t the mischievous, cocky smirk you were used to. It was softer, almost tender. “You’re doin' good, doll. Don’t let anyone—including yourself—tell you otherwise.”

You looked up at him, and for the first time since he’d shown up in your life, you realized how much you appreciated him. Not just as the obnoxious ghost who wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, but as someone who—despite his crude humor and questionable ethics—actually cared. Maybe not in the typical way, but in a way that mattered.

"Thanks, Beej," you whispered, closing your eyes as you let the exhaustion finally catch up to you. "I mean it."

Beetlejuice stayed quiet for a moment, just holding you close. "Anytime, babe. Anytime."

[paperultra]

mise en rose.

Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 3,806 words Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use

The tune that your father used to whistle now leaves your lips the same way it left his.

Notes skip offkey across the water as your boat rocks gently, waves lapping up against the wooden sides. The moon shines brightly overhead. You shift in place and wait for a tug on your fishing line, the basket at your feet waiting patiently for its first meal.

Archy will be happy if you actually catch something for once. There’s not a lot of fish around here, and you’re not exactly sure why; something about the aquatic plants in the area, or if you were to believe the old man in the village square, a curse that swallows anything with fins that swims too close. The last time you caught something was months ago, and it was tiny and more bone than flesh.

You don’t really care. It’s enough to just sit out here and feel the waves.

Cheeks puffing up with air for another round of music, you let your gaze drift out towards the ocean and abruptly freeze.

There’s something floating in the distance.

A piece of debris. Wood from a hull, a scrap of sail perhaps?

The thought that it may be the remnant of a ship destroyed at sea is enough for you to reel in your line and start rowing towards it, anticipation bubbling up and drowning out any thoughts of a midnight snack.

You get close enough and your anticipation gives way to shock.

“Oh, shit.”

The guy clinging to the chunk of wood stirs and lifts his head, and you almost hit him upside the head with your oar.

“Oh, shit. You’re alive.”

—

“You say you’re going out fishing and you come back with a half-dead man with three swords?” Archy looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm, but this time, you don’t blame him. This is certainly uncharted territory and your older brother is hopeless without a map. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What was I supposed to do, leave him to die?”

“I dunno! Yeah!” he gestures to the waterlogged man lying halfway on the living room couch, one arm and leg hanging off the side. “Look at him. He’s probably a pirate!”

“Damn, you think?” Crouching down, you drag your eyes across Swordsman’s ragged clothing and grin. You might’ve just rescued someone with a bounty on his head. “That’d be so cool.”

“That would not be cool.”

You shrug. “Well, I brought him in already, so you might as well help me unless you want a dead body in our living room.”

“You little –” Taking a deep breath, Archy pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long, loud groan, and you know that you’ve won once more. “Fine. But as soon as he’s even a little bit better, we’re calling the Marines.”

“Okay,” you agree amicably. “So, what do we do first?”

“We have to undress him and warm him up.”

“Got it.” Your eager fingers go straight for the swords.

The man comes to life without warning. Seizing your wrist, he cracks one eye open and speaks in a low and rasping voice.

“Don’t. Touch. My swords.”

“Uh,” you say.

“We got to get everything off, mate,” Archy grumbles, and your guest turns his glare onto your brother. “I know how to clean swords and scabbards. I’ll dry them off and put them under the couch afterward.”

“I’ll do it myself.”

With a grunt, Swordsman pushes you away and attempts to sit up. He struggles for a full minute, jaw clenched and muscles trembling; his arms, strong and sturdy as they are, look like they’ll buckle at any moment.

Your eyebrows shoot up to the ceiling when he actually manages to prop himself up.

“Well, that’s impressive,” you mutter, making eye contact with Archy. He rolls his eyes. “Can you remove your clothes and wrap yourself up too?”

It takes a few moments before Swordsman has enough breath to respond. “I’m fine,” he says once he can.

“You’re really not,” Archy replies.

“You’re probably really dehydrated,” you say. “How long were you out there?”

The man stares at you, opens his mouth, pauses.

“Three days. Maybe.”

You gape. “You spent three days floating in the East Blue and you’re not dead?” You look at his neck for gills. “Are you a fishman or something?”

“No.”

“Really? I mean, I never met any fishmen before, so …”

His eye twitches. “I’m not a fishman.”

“Well, okay, if you say so.”

What a weird guy. Then again, you’ve heard that all sorts of characters traverse the Blue Sea. Devil fruit users, talking animals, clowns. A person who can survive the ocean for a couple days on a piece of wood is hardly out of the question.

“You’re dehydrated, in any case,” you conclude. “I’ll get you some water.”

—

After gruffly accepting a glass of water and putting on some dry clothes, Swordsman proceeds to “sleep it off” for the next twenty-four hours. When he finally wakes up, it’s in the middle of the night and you’ve just started rereading your favorite book.

“Oh, he’s awake,” you say when he stirs, swinging your feet off the coffee table and leaning forward in your chair to observe.

He grimaces under the dim light of your lamp, lifting an arm to press it over his eyes. “How long was I out,” he grouses.

“’Bout a day.”

“Shit.” He wriggles around in the fuzzy blanket you’ve wrapped around him. Once he’s loosened its hold enough, he sits up slowly and looks around, expression equal parts drowsy and wary. “Where –”

“Archy took your swords and cleaned them. They’re under the couch.”

“I told you not to touch them.”

“I didn’t. My brother did.”

Casting you the most unamused glare, Swordsman bends over to look underneath the couch. He pulls his swords out and places them in his lap, inspecting the white one first with a care that makes you rest your chin in your hand, curious and charmed. His brow furrows and you know that he finds your brother’s work to be satisfactory when he moves on to inspect the other two.

“Our uncle was a bladesmith in Loguetown. He taught Archy a thing or two before he passed.”

“You’re bladesmiths?”

“Coopers. Uncle was the rebel, I guess.” You close your book and stand up. “There’s leftover soup in the fridge. I’ll heat up the broth for you.”

This time, the man does not refuse your help and only nods. As you head to the kitchen and start to reheat the soup, you glance over and catch him sipping from the glass of water you’d topped off while he was asleep. Somehow, even that small action intrigues you. You smile.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Ladling the steaming broth into a small bowl, you stick a spoon in and walk back to where Swordsman is, sitting beside him. “Here you go. Don’t drink it too fast, and all that.”

He takes the soup, blows on a spoonful, tastes it. His eyes close, and something funny happens in your stomach when he opens them again to look at you.

“’S good.”

“Really?” He nods and puts the bowl to his lips to drink directly from it. “Thanks.”

You let him finish the miso broth in silence. It gives you time to stare at him some more; even with the horrible sunburn and petroleum jelly smeared everywhere, he’s a very handsome man, that much you can tell, with broad shoulders and a pretty face and hair as green as forest moss. The three earrings on his left ear gleam gold and sway with every movement he makes.

“Are you gonna keep staring at me, or are you gonna ask me questions?”

“Hm? Oh!” Shaking your head in slight bewilderment, you smile. “Yeah, I guess it would be good to ask some questions … so, what’s your name, anyway?”

“Roronoa Zoro.”

You tilt your head with a frown. “Roronoa Zoro.” You taste the name in your mouth. “That sounds really familiar. Are you a pirate?”

“No. I hunt them.”

“You hunt them?”

“That’s what I said.”

You look at his swords again. His earrings. Three and three.

Shooting up from the couch, you dash to Archy’s room and slam the door open.

“Archimead! Wake up!” You grab your brother’s shoulders and rattle him.

“Shit – what?!” he gargles, pushing your face away with one meaty hand and sitting up. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“It’s Roronoa Zoro!”

“What?”

“The guy in our living room,” you shriek at him, practically shaking, “is the Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro. I fished Roronoa Zoro out of the fucking ocean.”

Archy stops rubbing his eye. “What.”

Soon enough, Zoro faces both you and your brother in the living room once more.

“You’re Roronoa Zoro? For real?” Archy asks him.

Zoro blinks up him. “Yeah.”

“Can you prove it?”

“‘Can you prove it’ – Archy, look at him. He’s got three earrings in his left ear and three fucking swords.”

“He could be some sort of copycat. We have no idea what Roronoa Zoro actually looks like.”

“You’re such a pessimist. Nobody would lug around three swords if they couldn’t use all of them at once.” You turn your attention back onto Zoro. “How the hell did you get stranded out there?”

He looks between the two of you, waiting for a moment before crossing his arms. “I was headed to Mirror Ball Island, but the boat I was on got caught in a whirlpool,” he says, displeased. “Then I got separated from the rest of the crew. Don’t know if they survived or not.”

“Mirror Ball Island?” you repeat. “That’s a three-day journey from here, at least.”

“Where’s here?”

“Dokusha Village.” You open one of the books on the table and point to a tiny strip of coast you’d labeled on the edge of the East Blue map. “Right there. You could buy a boat and sail west, straight to Mirror Ball Island.”

“I don’t have any beri on me right now,” Zoro says.

“Oh, yeah. Of course you don’t.” Archy puts his hands on his hips. “Well, the merchant ship is coming by in two weeks. If you’re all good by then, you can hitch a ride.”

“I’ll be fine by tomorrow night.”

You snort, closing the book and reclining back. “The rate you’re going, I don’t doubt it. Does that mean you want to leave earlier? You’ll still need a boat and supplies. Food, water, towels, sleeping gear. That all costs money. I mean, we could lend you some, but still.”

“I’ll work for it,” Zoro replies. “I don’t take and give nothing in return.”

Both you and Archy give a hum of approval.

—

True to his word, Roronoa Zoro is up and off the couch by the fourth day.

He doesn’t have a clue as to how to make barrels or buckets, which is expected, so he ends up helping with the grunt work of carrying staves into the workshop and stacking finished barrels. Other than that, there’s not much for him to do.

“Sorry if it’s boring,” you apologize during lunch, speaking through a mouthful of sandwich. “You’re kind of just hired muscle.”

Zoro shrugs, chewing on his own sandwich. Two girls walking by – Phoebe and Iris, the blacksmith’s daughters – spot him on the bench and giggle, hurrying past with glances over their shoulders. He appears not to care. “It’s fine.”

“I think you’re even stronger than my brother. Is it because of your training as a swordsman?”

“Probably,” he says.

“When did you start?”

“When I was eight.”

You nod sagely. “Not surprised. I’ve been helping around the workshop since I was a kid, and I only just finished my apprenticeship a few weeks ago. It’s good to start young.”

It seems that Zoro agrees by the way he grunts, stuffing the last piece of crust into his mouth.

When he’s done, you muster the courage to ask, “What’s it like, being a bounty hunter?”

Zoro raises an eyebrow at you. Then he gazes back out at the street. “It’s fine,” he responds. “Makes good money.”

You sigh exasperatedly. “Yeah, but, like, is it fun? Do you spend a lot of time at sea? See a lot of different places? Stuff like that.”

“I don’t do it for fun. My only goal is to become the world’s greatest swordsman.” He leans back and puts his hands behind his head. “It’s a shitton of traveling, both on ships and on land. I’ve been all over the East Blue.”

“Wow.” The word comes out as a sigh. You crunch longingly on a carrot stick. “That sounds amazing. It’s my dream to travel all over the world on a ship.”

“How come you’re here, then?”

You wince, hushing him hastily. Glancing behind you, you clear your throat and lean in to speak softly. “Archy hates the ocean. He worked on a merchant ship for a few months when he was eighteen and got super sick.” Upon reading Zoro’s blank expression, you clarify, “I can’t just leave him. I’m the only family he’s got now, and his younger sibling to boot. So Dokusha Village it is.”

“You’re staying because of your brother.”

“Yeah. I love him, so it’s fine.” There’s a familiar ache in your chest, but you push it down and elbow Zoro’s ribs in jest. (He doesn’t even move a muscle. Geez.) “Makes okay money. I got a bunch of adventure books to live through, anyway.”

It’s a little hard to meet your lunch companion’s eyes after that. You eat the rest of your carrots in silence, pretending to be occupied with finishing them. Zoro doesn’t utter another word.

But as the two of you get back to work, he seems a little warmer, a little less stiff. You make a silly joke and Zoro huffs out something that almost sounds like a laugh while Archy threatens to stick you in a rum barrel and roll you down a hill.

Perhaps you’ve made another friend.

—

“What are you making?”

You blow off the wood dust, closing one eye to cut a fin just right. “Shark. See?”

The bonfire you’d made crackles just a few feet away as you place the half-finished carving into Zoro’s palm. He picks it up with his other hand and twists it around, touching with intention, and you almost feel self-conscious with the way he’s examining it.

“Nice,” he finally says, and the praise makes you giddy. He hands the shark back to you.

“Thanks. I had a lot of practice.”

Zoro rests his elbows on the rock behind him and takes another swig of sake. You resume carving the shark’s fins, bare feet buried in the cool sand.

Archy’s on a date for once, so he left the two of you to your own devices for the night with a distracted wave goodbye and a warning that he’ll be back late. You took that as a chance to break into the alcohol after supper and drag Zoro down to the beach. The swordsman was willing to come along, though you suspect it was mostly for the sake.

“Ain’t that your third bottle?”

“I can hold my liquor.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “No need to brag.”

He wipes his mouth, dark brown eyes black in the firelight. They glint like steel when he looks over at you, but he doesn’t say anything – not that you’re surprised; sometimes Zoro just looks at whatever he wants without any reason. He’s not particularly complicated in that sense.

(You like that. Too many things in life are complicated.)

“Hey, Zoro.”

“Hm.”

Your lips purse. “Do you think my brother will get married one day?”

“How am I supposed to know?” His tone is flat.

“Well, I dunno! It’s just a question.” You frown, slowing in your work. “It’s just that after our parents died, he’s been too busy looking after me and the shop to court someone. He’s turning thirty next year and most people his age have settled down already. I feel kind of bad.”

“It’s not your fault,” Zoro says. “Wouldn’t he have more time now, anyway, since you can take care of yourself?”

“I think he’s been out for so long he doesn’t know how to date anymore.”

Zoro downs the rest of his sake. You know that there’s no advice he can give you regarding Archy’s marriage prospects, which doesn’t surprise you either. You suppose you just need someone to listen. It’s not like you can talk to Archy about it.

“Hell,” you remember, “I’m expected to be married by now, too. I’ve never even been on a date.”

“Really?”

“Nope. Why, are you surprised?”

Stretching his legs out in front of him, Zoro yawns and closes his eyes. “You just seem like the type.”

“What do you mean?”

“You talk a lot,” he says.

You burst out laughing. “Yeah, I do. Would that make me a good date?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“I’m guessing you’ve never been on one, either?”

Zoro shrugs. He doesn’t look too torn up about it. “Waste of time,” he mutters.

Your grin widens. “Figured you’d say that,” you drawl, digging your blade into the shark’s mouth. “Dating doesn’t really help you become the world’s greatest swordsman, does it?”

“Nope.”

“I still think it might be fun, though. If you’re with the right person.” With that, you brush away the last curl of wood from your carving. After admiring it for a few seconds, you offer the shark to Zoro, bumping the nose softly against his cheek. He opens his eyes and turns his head to squint at it. “Here you go. All yours.”

His brow furrows as he takes it.

“It’s a going away gift. Since you’re leaving tomorrow,” you say. Folding your knife and putting it down beside you, you grab your bottle of sake and gulp down half of what remains. “Don’t forget it.”

One of the logs in the bonfire crumbles, falling into the coals. Orange sparks fly up into the smoke and disappear just as quickly. You poke at the fire with a stick, trying not to think about how sad you’re going to be tomorrow morning.

“I won’t forget,” Zoro says.

“I know.”

—

It’s almost dawn, and the family boat is packed up and ready to set sail.

“Got everything?” Archy asks, lowering into a squat to scan over all the supplies.

“Yeah.” The swordsman drags a hand through his hair. “Thanks again for the boat.”

“It’s nothing.” Your brother elbows your arm, and you sway. “Oi. He said thank you.”

“I know,” you mumble. For the first time this morning, you spare Zoro a glance and smile at him, but it’s shaky and fake and you really hate how your voice wobbles when you say, “You don’t have to thank us. Just have a safe – have a safe –” Your voice cracks, and you look down at your feet, eyes burning. “Have a safe trip,” you finish quietly.

You can feel two pairs of eyes on you as your vision goes blurry. Shit. This is so embarrassing.

The fact of the matter is that Roronoa Zoro has been in Dokusha Village for only a week, and you’re already missing him like he’s been in your life for years. You’re going to watch him get into your family’s fishing boat and sail away, the wind at his back, the East Blue before him, and you will remain on the dock with your big brother beside you and your dream in your head.

You’re being selfish, but it’s not … it’s not fair.

Archy puts his hand on your shoulder and says your name.

You wipe your nose. “What?”

“… I’ve been thinking.” He sounds hesitant, taking in a deep breath and letting it go slowly, carefully. “You’ve always wanted to travel the world on a ship.”

It’s like the world tilts on its axis.

Rigidly, you look up at your brother, eyes wide.

“I’m not dumb, you know. You’ve only stayed here because of me,” Archy says. “I’m the one who’s supposed to look after you and protect you. But you’ve been able to do that for yourself for a while, now. Right?”

“Archy.” You swallow. “What are you …?”

“I talked with Zoro last night. He’s willing to take you to Mirror Ball Island, if you want.” His smile is crooked, but it trembles at the corners as he continues. “You know how to sail, how to navigate. We’ll just have to add some extra stuff to the boat.”

You can barely breathe.

“There’s plenty of merchant ships there,” Zoro adds, leaning on his sword. “Your skills are valuable. Just be willing to pull your own weight, and they’ll take you on board. If not, I’ll tell them to.”

“You don’t have to –” Now you’re full-on bawling. You throw your arms around Archy, who wraps you in a bear hug, and then around Zoro, who stiffens. “Thank you so much. Thank you thank you thank you.”

“No problem,” Zoro mumbles, patting you on the back. When you let go to beam at him, he averts his eyes and rubs the back of his neck. “Just hurry up.”

Nodding, you dash back up to your house, Archy following close behind. You grab your bag, throw what you need into it, snatch your hat from your bedpost. Less than twenty minutes pass before you’re all ready to go.

“Got everything?” Archy asks once more at the dock. You nod and look at Zoro, who nods as well. “All right.”

You hug Archy for the last time. Tears spill over and down your cheeks. “Thank you for everything, big bro. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, kid.” His voice is rough and trembly, muffled against your head. “Come back to visit sometime, okay?”

“Okay.”

Getting into the boat with Zoro, you help him check the rigging and hoist the sail. Archy unties the vessel and pushes the two of you off. As you float away, he waves, and you wave back, staring as he gets smaller and smaller.

“I’m not turning back,” Zoro tells you as you eventually settle in your seat. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Is it?

You cast one last glance back at Dokusha Village, at the small point of your brother. Then you look out at the broad expanse of the ocean. And you feel many things – joy, sadness, apprehension – but above all that, you feel –

Free.

“Yes,” you say firmly. You push your hat down and smile at Zoro, and this time, it’s genuine. “It is.”

Zoro smiles back. And as the sun begins to warm your face, you whistle your father’s song and think about the journey to come.

[harmonictechnicality]

model!steve and voice actor!eddie

part 2 here | ao3 link here

Eddie chose a career in voice acting to avoid shit like this.

Forced socializing. Schmoozing with hotshot directors who are used to everyone kissing their ass until their lips bleed. And Eddie doesn’t do that shit. 

… Okay yeah sure, Eddie kisses asses. But only in the literal, consensual kind of way. Usually after a few mediocre dinner dates, at least.

But this particular fuckhole of a director is insisting that Eddie attends the production shoot of the commercial that he’ll be narrating for. Which is weird - that’s not how this process typically goes. Eddie gets the script and records it in his studio. Easy peasy.

“I do things a little differently with my projects.” The director sneers into the phone’s speaker. Eddie silently gags at the oozing amounts of ego on this guy. “I want to immerse you into my vision.”

Ew. Eddie would rather immerse himself into a nap, but whatever. A job is a job.

“Understood.” Eddie agrees with minimal teeth-clenching. “I’ll be on set shortly.”

The phone clicks dead with nothing but a chuckle from the guy. No ‘goodbye,’ no ‘thank you.’ Rude… but that’s kind of an industry standard, so why did Eddie expect anything different?

He folds the script into his back pocket, throws on a shirt that screams ‘Los Angeles disaster gay,’ and makes his way to the studio lot.

Fucking yay. 

Upon arrival, the director immediately escorts Eddie into the green room. Rambles on about needing him to meet the lead model for this commercial.

“Isn’t he just posing with the product?” Eddie lets his snarkiness run loose with that question, knows it right away.

Luckily, the guy is too busy snapping at a crew member to notice. “You’ll be voicing his character’s inner narrations.”

“Right.”

“And I want your tone to be seamless with the energy that he’s giving in this shoot. Got it?”

“Loud and clear.” Mostly loud.

The director swings open the door and reveals maybe the most cosmically beautiful person that Eddie has ever seen.

“Eddie, this is Steve.” The director says. “Steve, this is Eddie.”

Models are beautiful people, that’s the goddamn gig. Makeup, no makeup. Photoshop, no photoshop. They just look better than the general population and society accepts that as a fact.

But Eddie is a grubby little voice actor that burrows himself up in his boxy apartment for days. Very little sunlight, very little human interaction, and a shit ton of takeout.

Long story short, he doesn’t get out much. So this? Seeing a biblically hot heartthrob in the flesh? With his own two eyes? It’s knocking him into deep space. Sending him into an astral projection without sticking a tablet on his tongue first.

“Nice to meet you, man.” Steve holds out his hand while someone brushes more powder onto his shiny, glowy skin. God, that’s the best damn skin Eddie has ever seen. Powder be damned, Steve doesn’t need it’s chalky finish.

Eddie shakes himself out of this spell, takes Steve’s hand like he’s somehow worthy of touching him. “Yeah, you too.”

Lame. So lame. On a scale of one to Star Wars prequels, his response is the CGI in Attack of the Clones. ‘Yeah, you too?’ Ugh, what a dumbass.

The director tells them to get acquainted and to be on set in ten minutes. Ten minutes. Eddie has to be convincingly normal for ten whole minutes. Pfft, that’s laughable, but he’ll give it a shot.

“That guy’s a total asshat.” Steve grumbles.

Oh. Eddie could smother him in kisses for saying that. Lick Steve clean of all that stupid powder and probably die of talc poisoning. Death By Licking a Model is one hell of a way to go.

“Yeah.” Find some new words, Munson. “Major asshat. But he happens to be paying my bills this month, so technically, he’s my favorite major asshat.”

“Oh, same.” Steve laughs. It’s fucking glorious too. Eddie kind of wishes he had brought his microphone so that he could capture such a wonderful sound with high quality recording software. Is that creepy? Maybe he should dial it back. 

... As if. This guy’s hair is sculpted with effortless perfection and his shoulder blades could slice through a French baguette. No way Eddie can dial it back or keep it together.

“So you’re doing the voice work on the commercial, right?” Steve asks.

‘Yup.” Eddie shoves both hands into his pockets. “Indeed I am.” 

Okay, that was borderline Yoda. Get a grip.

Steve seems unfazed though. “That’s cool. Can’t wait to hear what you come up with.”

“Thanks.” Eddie smiles warmly. Nerves mellowing out. “And I can’t wait to see you in action out there.”

“Hope I can give you some good inspiration.” And Steve winks, legit winks at Eddie. Does it like it’s normal too, like he winks at everybody. He probably winks at nuns just to see if he can get them to consider conversion.

Eddie is so hopeless. Fucking tragic at this point.

They walk into the studio and are greeted by a somber, archaic set design. There’s a massive throne in the middle that is draped with fur. 

It’s… tacky. That’s the nicest adjective Eddie has to describe it. Tacky bullshit.

“I thought this was for a cologne ad.” Eddie says, eyeing the snowy backdrop.

Steve nods. “It is.”

“So what’s with the secondhand Game of Thrones set?”

“Mr. Asshat thinks this is his cinematic debut.”

Eddie snorts. Loves that he already has inside jokes with this beautiful, beautiful creature. “Someone should tell Mr. Asshat that this is visual plagiarism.”

“Nah.” Steve runs his hand over the tacky fur piece. Smirks to himself as he speaks. “I say we let him suffer.”

Eddie’s legs wobble. “Damn, you’re hot.”

He sounds ridiculously uncool, so breathy and gone. But Steve shrugs in a non-pitying kind of way, so maybe Eddie's uncoolness is excused. Or expected.

While the camera and lighting crew finalize their positions, Steve takes off his robe, revealing his costume.

Torn, muddied pants. Ripped and clawed to shreds. A billowy white top that’s completely unbuttoned. Un-laced? Eddie’s not entirely sure about the mechanics - just knows that Steve’s chest is out, that’s all he can focus on.

There’s a dented crown that the stylist places next to the throne, right at Steve’s feet. It’s shimmery yet tarnished, catches the light in a kaleidoscope effect.

The product is called The Fallen King, so deductive reasoning tells Eddie that Steve is meant to be the physical embodiment of this scent. He recalls something in the script about his title being slandered by promiscuity and forbidden love. Apparently they’ve bottled up that smell into a cologne. 

Do people really want to smell like a dethroned monarch? That’s a thing? Huh.

Just to make the sexual torture even more unbearable, Eddie gets to spectate alongside Mr. Asshat himself. Which also means that Eddie almost has a center view of Steve’s performance.

Cause that’s exactly what he’s giving. A performance. A full display production of his body, his face. His whole godlike essence. 

It’s unfair how fucked Eddie is from watching Steve pose. He can hold the oddest positions without budging a single tendon. So still. Durable. Strong.

Every last thought in Eddie’s head is impure from that observation. He wants to wrap his fingers around Steve’s muscles until he finally moves, twitches. Eddie wants to watch as Steve’s pretty lips part, falling open with sighs. See how long it takes for those sighs to turn into moans.

Steve slumps back into the throne, legs spread obscenely far apart. His gaze droops low and dark, practically eye-fucking the camera. It’s crazy how jealous Eddie is of that stupid inanimate object. The things he would do to get eye-fucked by that golden sex god up there…

His internal porno gets interrupted by a new pose. A wicked one. Steve is on his knees now, looking up into the camera lens. He sinks into the dreamiest expression. Looks dazed, all spaced-out and helpless. Eddie kneads at the growing heat in his pants with the heel of his palm. Hopes it’s not fucking obvious that he’s so horned up right now.

The director clears his throat and yells over the camera’s constant shuttering. “Can you tilt your head back, Steve?”

And Steve does. So obedient, so exceptional at his job. His head rolls back on his neck, shoulders sagging with the shift of weight.

Eddie is chewing the inside of his cheek, nearly ready to take the horny loss and go jack off in his car. Steve is in the most ideal position now, totally vulnerable. Eddie could fuck him so good like that, let Steve melt into his touch. He’d treat him like treasure, spoil him with dick and praise. Eddie would catch him if his legs give out. Would lick Steve’s kiss-bitten lips until the swelling goes down.

God, Eddie is so sick in the head for conjuring up x-rated scenes like this. In public, surrounded by strangers. Literally on the clock. He seriously needs to get his head checked for having such a whorish imagination.

The shoot ends shortly after that last pose, the one that rocked Eddie’s world. He closes his eyes for a minute, takes a few deep breaths. Tries to inhale some goddamn decency.

“How was it?” Steve heads his way, snaking his arms back into the bathrobe.

Eddie blinks hard. “It was… you were…” And the words stop. Nothing else comes out, his throat is strangled and bare.

Steve gives a soft laugh, nudges Eddie’s arm with his elbow. “Guess you do better when there’s a script in front of you, huh?”

Oh. So he’s pretty and darkly playful? This is too good, too delicious.

Eddie wets his bottom lip, recovers quickly. “I do better when there’s not an earthbound angel in my presence.”

“Wow.” Steve raises both eyebrows. “That’s quite the compliment.”

“Oh come on - you must get compliments all the time.”

“Not like that one though.”

“No?”

Steve takes a step into Eddie’s space. “Definitely not.”

They just stare after that - mostly because it’s Eddie’s turn to speak but words are so secondary when there’s this much beauty to behold. Gazing becomes his top priority.

And before the conversation can lead to an exchange of last names or phone numbers, Steve is rushed off by his agent. Maybe his publicist. Maybe his mom, Eddie has no fucking clue. Just someone taking away his shiny new toy. He sort of feels like reenacting that scene in Cast Away when the volleyball drifts into the ocean. Be dramatic as all hell about this ending.

Eddie doesn’t actually jack off in his car, although he really wants to. No, he decides to use all of his adrenaline and pent-up hormones for the voice recording. It gives his vocals this strained, chesty sound. Sinful and corrupt. Cracking with emotion in certain spots, spiking the volume in all the right ways.

It might be too much, a little bit too suggestive for a lousy cologne advertisement.

But as he listens back, Eddie can’t help but picture Steve. Imagining snapshots of him from every angle, especially the unspeakable ones. The recording barely sounds like a script anymore. It almost sounds like Eddie whispering the lines directly into Steve’s ear. A dirty secret between them.

This is it, he thinks. Sends the audio file to his sound mixer without a second read-through, without a retake. This might be the best voiceover Eddie Munson has ever done.

[sweetyyhippyy]

Diner Girl. Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader. *Fluff*

Summary: Eddie stops by a diner after a gig at The Hideout. His waitress catches his eye and he's head over heels immediately.

Word Count: 1.9k

TW: Eddie being in love and flirty. Reader has one very specific description of having a dimple. Mentions of food and eating. Reader is witty and just as flirty as Eddie. Eddie being a total music snob. Love sick idiots.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie felt like he was going to knock out any minute. All of the adrenaline from performing at The Hideout tonight was wearing out, and he needed some sort of fuel fast, there was no way he was going to make it back home without falling asleep at the wheel. 

He knew of a little dinky diner on the way back to the trailer park, Sunny’s Diner, that would be open at this hour. 

The entire diner was empty other than a few of the workers back in the kitchen and a waitress cleaning one of the tables. Shitty disco music blasting from the jukebox in the front of the restaurant. 

“Be with you in a second, honey!” A girl calls out from across the diner, quickly looking up to acknowledge him but looking back down quickly to go back to cleaning. “Take a seat wherever.” 

Eddie slides into a booth at the front of the restaurant, grabbing the menu from the holder and scanning through it while he decides if he wanted waffles or a burger. 

“Hi there, I’ll be your waitress for the night. Is there anything that I can get you right now, hon?” 

Eddie looks up at the girl standing by him quickly, doing a double take once he saw how cute she was. “Uh, um.” He fumbles with the menu as he stares at her with, what he had no doubt, the stupidest look on his face. 

She huffs out a small laugh. “Do you need a second?” 

“No, no. Um, can I just get a coffee for now, please?” He smiles up at her, all of his teeth showing. 

“Coffee hasn’t been fresh in hours, you sure?” She raises a worrisome eyebrow at him. 

“Yeah it’ll be fine. Nothing that some sugar can’t fix.” Eddie watches as she walks away toward the kitchen, the cute little yellow uniform she was wearing catching his eye because of how nice her legs looked. 

She had the cutest smile he had seen, a deep dimple on the left side of her face. Her hair covered her nametag and she hadn’t introduced herself when she walked up to take his order, so he had no idea what her name was, but whatever it was, he was sure it was as cute as she was. 

A plain white coffee cup appears in front of him, waking him from his train of thought. 

“Sugar is there in that little container. Do you want any creamer or anything?” 

“No, that's okay. But I’m ready to order. Would you recommend the waffle breakfast plate or the cheeseburger?” He tries his best to sound smooth and suave. 

She grimaces, biting back a smile. “Not going to lie, those hamburger patties are frozen, and probably have been since 1955.” She giggles. “Don’t tell anyone I told you that though.” She whispers to him.

Eddie laughs back, nodding his head and folds his menu back up. “Waffle breakfast plate it is then. Unless those waffles are from 1955 too, then we might have some issues.” 

She finishes writing on her notepad, that cute little dimple showing. “No, the waffles are a lot better. We got those shipped back in ‘72. A lot more fresh.” She jokes before walking away again. 

Eddie’s heart was fluttering in his chest, her eyes were just as sweet as the rest of her face and her voice. He absentmindedly reaches for the sugar packets on the other side of the table, taking 3 of the pink packets and sprinkling the sugar into the cup. 

His mind was swimming with ideas on how he was going to ask her for her number, hoping by whatever higher power there was out there that she was interested in him. And hoping that she was single, although there was going to be no way in hell that someone as beautiful and sweet as her wouldn’t have someone at home waiting for her. 

He takes a big swig from the cup, immediately gagging on the stale coffee and spitting it back out into the cup. “Fucking christ.” 

From the counter he hears a loud giggle. He turns to look at the source of the laugh, finding the cute waitress hiding her smile behind her hand and a fit of giggles coming from her. 

Eddie grabs the napkin from the table, wiping his mouth off. “Oh, is that funny to you? What kind of poison did you put in that cup?” 

She comes from behind the counter, a steaming pot of newly brewed coffee in her hand. “I told you the pot hadn’t been fresh in hours. Not many people come in here after 8pm wanting coffee.” She swaps his tainted cup out for a new one, pouring new coffee into it. “Most people are sleeping at this hour.” 

“Did you make that new pot just for me?” Eddie winks at her, getting more sugar packets and sprinkling them in. 

She rolls her eyes at him, biting a smirk back. “Actually, I wanted some coffee too. I still have 3 more hours at this place and I need something to keep me awake.” 

“You mean all these customers in here aren’t enough to keep you busy? Shit, you’re swimming right now.” He fidgets with the handle of the cup the longer she looks at him, feeling nerves in his stomach. 

“A comedian.” She teases, making herself laugh. “I’m going to go check on your food, I’ll be right back.” She smiles again. 

Eddie blows out a breath, rubbing his cheeks. He hadn’t felt this way about a girl in years, someone who was sweet, but could banter back with him and take a joke. He watches her at the pickup window, unintelligibly talking with the cook on the other side. 

He had already planned in his head where he wanted to take her on their first date, that he would try to hold her hand - if she would let him. 

“A waffle breakfast plate. I sweet talked the chef into putting some chocolate chips on top.” 

“Oh, thank you.” He smirks at her. “You know, these waffles are huge, I might not be able to finish all of this by myself. Why don’t you sit with me and have a bite to eat? Maybe I can get to know you better?” 

“Wow.” She laughs, shaking her head. “Does this whole cute puppy dog eyes and sweet smile thing usually work for you?” 

“I don’t know, you let me know. Is it working?” 

She stands next to the table for a few seconds before finally sliding in across from him. “Might have worked a little bit.” She responds, taking one of his forks and picking at one of the strawberries on the plate and popping it in her mouth. 

Eddie drops his jaw dramatically, pretending to be shocked. “Hey! I wanted that one.” Eddie jokes.

***

“Don’t be a snob!” She laughs loudly. “Saturday Night Fever wasn’t a bad movie!” 

Eddie rolls his eyes sarcastically before groaning. “Oh, please! The soundtrack alone was god awful. Add John Travolta in those ugly ass white bell bottoms.” He fake gags.

“You’re telling me you weren’t down with the disco fever? The Bee Gees? Earth, Wind, and Fire? Donna Summer?! Come on Donna Summer is a legend already. You never watched Soul Train?” 

“Oh my god I should walk out of here right now.” He jokes. “You haven’t heard real music have you? Van Halen, Judas Priest, Skid Row, and the god of music himself, Ozzy Osborne. That’s real music sweetheart.” Eddie says matter of factly. 

“Well Mr. Headbanger’s Bash, you’ll have to show me real music then since I’m so uneducated.” 

Eddie all but jumped out of his seat at her bringing up seeing him again. 

She turns her wrist to look at her watch, her face turning down. “My manager will be here in 10 minutes and will kill me if I’m sitting down eating with a customer. I gotta start cleaning up.” 

“Oh. Well, do you get off soon then? Maybe I can give you a ride home, if you don’t have one?” 

As she slides out of the booth, she smirks at him. “How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” 

“Does this look like the face of a serial killer?” Eddie puts in his best smile for her, batting his dark eyelashes at her.

Her eyes roll in the back of her head at his cheesy line. “My car is parked in the parking lot. You can walk me to my car. I’ll come find you when I’m off.” 

Eddie practically melts into the booth, his cheeks getting hot and flutters in his stomach. 

*** 

“Alright, you Eddie Van Halen lookalike, you wanna walk me to my car?” 

Eddie snorts out a laugh as he slides out of the booth. “Ah, so you do know Van Halen? You do have taste.” He follows her out the door, shivering when the crisp fall breeze hits his face. 

"Yeah, Van Halen is hot.” She says purposely, hoping he got the hint. “So I have to ask you, you spent 4 hours drinking shitty coffee and eating waffles that came from a box. Our food and coffee aren’t that good, so what do you really want?” 

“I think you know the answer to that question.” Eddie says shyly. 

“No, no because I’ve been wrong about this type of thing before. Men come in flirting with me in hopes they don’t have to pay for their food. I want to be sure. I’m not falling for a pair of pretty eyes again.”

"She thinks I have pretty eyes." Eddie thinks to himself.

They walk up to her beat up black car, both of them leaning against the side of it.  

“I want to take you on a date, if you’re interested. I think you’re beautiful, you’re funny. I want to get to know you more.” Eddie’s confidence is long gone from his body. It was like he was 14 again and asking a girl out for the first time.

She leans forward and kisses his cheek softly, internally giggling like a little girl that she had the guts to kiss him. 

It took everything in Eddie not to melt onto the parking lot asphalt at the peck on his cheek. “I’ll uh, take it you’re interested.” 

“Very interested.” She digs into the pocket of her apron and pulls out a piece of paper. “I’m expecting to hear from you by the time I have to come back to this dump tonight… But not before noon, I need to sleep.” She smirks to him.

Eddie unfolds the paper, seeing her phone number and address scribbled on one of the ticket she takes orders on.  

“Yeah, I promise. I’ll call you. Scouts honor.” He holds up his hand, giving her the Vulcan hand gesture. 

She furrows her brows at him, confused by the hand gesture. “You know that… you know what, never mind.” She shakes her head at him,  grabbing her keys from her purse. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” She slides her key into her car, unlocking it. 

Eddie reaches for the door handle and opens it for her, pulling the door back to let her in. “Ma’am.” He says with his thickest southern accent he could muster up.

She gets into her car, throwing her bag into the passenger side. “Well I’ll be waiting for your call then Van Halen.” 

Eddie gently shuts her door, stepping back while she pulls out of her parking spot, giving him a small wave before she drives off. 

“Holy shit.” Eddie laughs in disbelief that she was actually interested in him. He looks at the paper in his hand, pink ink scribbled onto the paper with the words:

Thank you for actually being sweet and making me laugh all night. I can’t wait to show you disco isn’t as bad as you think. xoxo ♡

[coastershells]

TOO MUCH ! ?

IN WHICH — you figure out just how caring dallas can be.

⚠️ : a lot of suggestive things and teasing here , aftermath of sex so haaahaaaa.. yea

not proofread , made while opening fucking christmas gifts LOL. / requested? | no : yes

꒰��� ☆ ໒꒱ | wc — 1.5k

you roll over , panting hard as dallas sits up and admires you. you don’t even know where you found the strength to roll over , let alone even think as of now.

dallas seems to be lost in thought , either zoned out looking at you or simply admiring the mess he had made on your chest , and your thighs.

“ gonna — fuck.. clean me up or w-what? “ you manage to say , your vocal cords have to be done by now , because it came out in a husky voice and he laughed at the voice cracks “ mmhm , will do. just wanna look at you first. an artist can’t help but admire the art they’ve made. “ you roll your eyes , and try to sit up. your arms fail you. and he rubs your hair gently , making you relax completely.

“ i’ll go get a towel , and some water. and maybe a snack aswell. you just stay put , alright doll? i don’t want you moving and falling off the bed to hurt yourself. “ dally says , half of his words don’t register as you watch him pull up his boxers and then his grey sweats. and you can’t help but wonder how the hell did that fit in you?

you nod lazily , taking him leaving as a chance for you to catch your breath , and really get back on your train of thought before it leaves you behind.

but as he leaves the room , and you hear him open the bathroom door , you fear you’ve already got left behind several trains ago.

you can’t think about anything else but him , how well he treated you , how he made sure you were okay , and even stretched you for fucks sake. you knew he’d be confident , you knew he would tease. you knew that all when he picked you up at the drive in. but you didn’t expect to be in his bed , legs twitching , and waiting for him to come back to clean you up and pamper you.

or , atleast you hope he will.

sooner or later , dallas returned with a damp towel , a water , and some chips he probably didn’t pay for just snatched off his kitchen counter. you don’t know why , but your stomach dropped and twisted a little when he carefully lifted your left leg up and placed it on his shoulder , which emitted a whine of embarrassment from you. in response , he gives you a click glance. “ y’fine. nothin’ down here i haven’t seen. “

even when he says that , you cover your eyes with your hands , peeking when you feel the damp towel come in contact with your skin. you move your other leg to give him more space to clean you.

you take the silence in to lightly scold him. “ you better.. you better clean me right , dal. “ you point at him and he stifles a laugh.

“ mmm — hmm. i got you , dollface. just relax. need ya to do that , can you do that for me? “

you nod slowly , letting your hand go limp at your side , you turn your head to the water and chips on the bed , you reach for the water , but before you can get to it dallas moves up and starts to clean your chest. another whine comes from your throat and you arch your back when he grazes over your nipple ever so slightly.

“ relax , baby. “ he says softly as he presses his hand in the middle of your chest , and pushes you back onto the bed. “ swear , won’t pull one on you. not twice. for now , atleast. “ he claims as he rubs the last of it off your chest. he takes a look at the towel and you have to try your best not to laugh at his face. he tosses the towel off the bed and makes his way from above you.

“ got a shirt and pants for you to borrow. they’ll probably fall of your waist but i doubt you’ll wanna sleep naked. unless..? “ he smirks as he dangles what seems to be the sweats and shirt in his hand.

without much hesitance , you use your arms for support , basically falling flat on your back twice trying to , yet still you lift yourself to snatch the clothing. you collapse right back onto the bed. with a sigh , you question him. “ where are my panties? or my bra? i swear to god — “

before you can finish your sentence , two pieces of.. clothing are thrown at your face , and you grimace. you lightly pick up what you assume to be your panties and bra , and slowly slide them on while notably struggling and looking at dallas eyeing you.

“ god , if i knew you’d be that good , woulda knocked you up sooner. “ he runs a hand through his hair and goes to pick up the water bottle you wanted a minute ago.

“ what is that even supposed to mean? “ you grumble as you slide his sweatpants on , and just as expected , with just you sliding back further onto the bed , they ride down on you. you roll your eyes when he just laughs. “ you playing me? you better not be. “ you fumble with the shirt before realizing it was inside out. messy.

“ if i was ‘ playin ‘ you , i would’ve kicked you out and let you stumble your ass down the street. instead , m’being nice and taking care of ya like i should. y’think so lowly of me sweetheart. “ dallas was going to signal to you that the shirt was inside out , but let you figure it out yourself. you notice dallas looking between you and the cigarettes lying on a table you can’t even imagine walking to in this state.

he clicks his tongue , and twists the bottle open , approaching you on the bed.

he sits down at the edge and points to his lap. “ c’mere , i don’t trust you enough right now to drink it yourself without spillin’ it everywhere. “

you finally put the shirt on and use the best of your abilities to crawl close to him. he takes it in himself to pull you onto his lap , and he supports your back. you feel like he’s babying you at this point.

“ not a child , dal. don’t gotta hold me like — like this. “ you say , shutting up once he puts the water bottle to your lips. he looks down at you like your the most beautiful thing in the world , and that look alone makes you almost choke on the water. “ mmh , ‘know that already. just lemme have my moment like you have yours. “

you don’t reply to that , even when you tap the bottle to let him know you’ve had enough and he pulls the bottle away , wiping your lips.

instead , you cling onto his shoulder , lightly shaking your head when you hear him pick up the bag. “ not hungry , dal. just sleepy. “ you say. honestly , he did tire you. and you’re pretty sure he knew that all too well.

“ alright , sweets. but don’t wake me up in the mornin’ complaining about your stomach. i swear i’ll ignore you. “ he bites playfully at your cheek before he pulls you back onto the bed , flipping you over and tucking you under the blanket. you snuggle into the pillow as he reaches over you to turn the lamp off. you purposely kick the chips off the bed to which his groans.

dallas jokingly pinches your thigh before wrapping his arms around your waist. “ sleep , or you’ll regret it in the mornin. “

“ mhm , shut up dal. goodnight. “

he nuzzles into your neck , and as you give up on staying awake you hear a small “ night “ that tickles your shoulder.

god , you love him.

B O N U S !

“ dallllll… “ you whine as you blink , trying to get used to the light outside the window. dallas stirred , but didn’t full get up, in which you shake him again. “ dallas , m’hungryyy. “ you whine louder , and he finally wakes up and rolls over , eyes still closed , he scolds you. “ i told you don’t wake me up. eat those chips , i’ll take you out for breakfast when i actually wake up. “

“ you promise? “ you sink back into the pillow.

“ promise , baby. now let me sleep for a little bit. “

you smile , then turn back over yourself.

[yxtubers]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡

matt sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: matt gets his wisdom teeth taken out, which makes him incredibly clingy

warnings/notes: reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend’ , that’s about it

requested?: yes!

> > >

Matt had been having tooth pains for weeks now. Every time you urged him to go to the dentist, he would just claim that he hated the dentist and that the pain wasn’t a big deal anyway.

Clearly he was wrong. Sitting next to him as he woke up from his anesthetic daze, you wished you could tell him ‘I told you so’ but you decided to refrain until he was fully sobered up.

His eyes were squinted, probably sensitive to the light since he had been put to sleep for a while.

He looked around for a bit, adjusting to finally being awake. His eyes darted around vigorously once he couldn’t find you.

“Where’s my girlfriend?” he mumbled, disoriented at his surroundings.

You tried to stop yourself from laughing. You were literally beside him, but his drugged state impaired his common sense.

“I’m right here, love.”

Reaching over, you took his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles over his skin.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice muffled by the gauze in his mouth.

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

You tried speaking gently since the doctors said to be patient and quiet with him in case he had vertigo or a headache.

“Why do I sound like that?” he asked almost childishly.

“You have gauze in your mouth. They took out your wisdom teeth, remember?”

You brushed his hair out of his eyes. Tucking some other strands behind his ear, you noticed the bewildered look in his eyes.

“They have my teeth?” he whispered.

You couldn’t help but giggle at him. He was so clueless it was adorable. “Yes, but they were bad teeth. The doctors made you all better.”

He nodded, seemingly understanding. He looked around once more, a confused look on his face.

“Can we go home? This place is creepy,” he said, his puffed out cheeks still impeding his speech. It took all his strength to be able to speak even somewhat coherently.

As soon as you got home, Matt was all over you.

He was leaning his head on your shoulder and gripping onto your arm, following you around wherever you went.

You didn’t mind. You actually found it cute - but you were worried for him. The doctors said he shouldn’t be walking around too much since he probably didn’t have a lot of balance.

“Hey how about we go lie down for a bit?” you asked him.

His eyes widened. Matt grabbed onto your arm with both hands now, looking up at you.

“Yeah! Will you lie with me?”

You smiled before nodding and helping him to his bedroom. You tucked him into bed before getting some water and painkillers for when he wakes up, but not without Matt whining for you to come back and cuddle with him.

You could hear a “where are youu?” from the room over as you scrambled to get as many supplies as possible.

His eyes were droopy when you came back into the room, head lolling to the side as he tried to fight off sleep. You set everything down next to him, including some clean gauze for him later. Changing them would be a pain in the ass but it doesn’t compare to how he’s about to feel in the next hour or so.

“Am I gonna hurt when I wake up?” he whined again as he made a grabby motion for you to come next to him.

Climbing into bed, you gently pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Only for a little while, but I’ll be here to help.”

His lips broke out into a smile, his cheeks making him look like a chipmunk. Closing his eyes he cuddled into you, resting his head on your lap as you sat up in the bed.

“You’re the best,” he said as he drifted off to sleep.

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

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[gurugirl]

The Work Trip

Photo is for aesthetics only!

Sugardaddy!harry x yn

Summary: Harry takes Y/n with him on a work trip.

Word Count: 4850

Warning: 18+ only, smut, cheating (technically)

The Arrangement Masterlist

When Harry told Jessica to also book Y/n on the two-night trip she gave him a look that he knew to be scrutiny. He figured there would be questions about why he was taking an intern with him on a business trip but he didn’t care. He could explain it away by saying he’d rather have an intern assist him than have someone else go with him who could be of better use at the office.

“What’s with you and Y/n anyway?” Sean teased as he stopped into Harry’s office.

“Nothing. Just wanted to have someone there to print out decks for us if we need, or executive summaries. Get our coffee. Things like that.”

His best friend nodded with a grin, “Sure. Whatever you say, Har. What about the way you flirt with her? Or the way she locks up and gets all ditzy when you’re around?”

Harry brushed his friend off. He wouldn’t tell Sean what he was doing with his cute little intern. All the disgusting and dirty little things she eagerly allowed him to do to her. That was just for him and Y/n.

No one knew for sure but some were more nosy than others. He’d have to behave himself with Y/n on the trip since Sean would be there as well. He already had a plan in place to make sure no one knew what was going on.

.           .           .

Y/n had her own hotel room. She had a little balcony and the bed was soft and the TV came with unlimited channels. Harry told her he’d give her instructions soon but that she was just to wait for him. She was allowed to order food if she wanted but not to leave the hotel because he would be expecting her to do something for him. She was not quite sure what that entailed just yet.

After ordering French fries and a fruit cup she got his first set of instructions via text.

Take the spare key card I gave you for my room and let yourself in at a quarter to 4. Don’t be late.

It was already 3 pm. Harry and Sean had been at some meeting for the better part of three hours. They’d had an early check-in to their rooms and then immediately left for their first meeting of the trip.

She quickly ate her snack and then used the bathroom before cleaning herself up a touch. If she knew one thing she could probably expect, it would be that he’d have her naked in some capacity and she always preferred at least being fresh for him. He never seemed to mind one way or the other but for her own sake, she liked to keep clean.

When she entered his room she noted it looked an awful lot like hers. But except for two double beds, there was one large king bed in the middle. Just as soft as hers.

At 3:40 she received her second text.

Take all of your clothes off for me. I’ll be there soon.

Her heart pounded as she folded her clothes and sat everything neatly on a chair. She loved not knowing exactly what Harry was going to do to her. Loved the anticipation of being caught off guard. Loved that he did all the thinking for her.

When the hotel room door opened Harry walked into the room like he was on a time crunch (he was) and took his suit jacket off, folding it and draping it on a chair.

He smiled at his pretty naked girl. She had goosebumps and perked nipples and he couldn’t resist touching her neck. “You’re such a good girl for, Daddy. Now climb up onto the bed, hands and knees down.”

She minded him quickly, crawling on all fours to the center of his bed, and turned her head to watch him as he dug into his suitcase.

Rope.

“Did you use the bathroom already? Peed and everything?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” He kneed up to the bed next to her and pulled her arms behind her back, winding the rope around her wrists snugly, and then lifted her hips to have her ass up while her face was down into the soft bedding.

She felt his lips on her bottom before he pressed a kiss to her cunt and then to her anus. She felt the cool wetness of the lube as he smeared it over both her holes, “Gonna plug you up, okay? Relax…” he pressed an anal plug at her back entrance and she did as he said, relaxing her muscles as he pushed it into her small opening, securing it in place with a final little twist once it was inside.

“And before I leave I’m gonna fill you with my come and then I’ll plug your pussy up, make you keep it inside until I return after dinner. Okay?” He checked with her, knowing she’d say yes but still enjoying her little squeaks of compliance.

Harry undid his buckle and quickly pulled his pants down. He didn’t have much time to waste. They were due to meet out front in less than 15 minutes. He stroked himself with the lube and got his cock nice and hard as he enjoyed the site of her spread out for him with her ass in the air.

“Ready for Daddy’s cock, baby?” He pressed his tip to her entrance.

“Yes,” she cooed, “Please Daddy. Use my hole for your come.”

Harry pumped the base of his cock as he pressed in until he had both hands at her hips and he was bottomed out.

“This is gonna be really fast because I’ve got to go, but I need you to stay quiet or else you don’t get to have my come. Understand?” He asked her as he drew his dick out to tip and slowly pressed back in, repeating his strokes so she would open up and begin to wet him naturally. The lube helped, but he loved when she was wet for him.

“Yes. I promise to keep quiet.”

At that Harry began to pound into her quickly, feeling his cock stimulated by the little plug inside of her as he slid into the hilt and backed out, thwacking himself into her harshly.

He had to bite his lip not to moan. She felt so delicious around him and the plug was just intensifying how tight she already was.

She grunted as quietly as possible each time his hips smacked into her. With his long, thick cock moving inside of her, it was nudging into the plug in her ass and it made her clench and get wetter and wetter. It felt so good being fucked in her cunt while her ass was plugged.

But he came so fast. She felt him pulsing and throbbing in her as he quietly groaned and squeezed her hips. She sighed at the feel of his come being stuffed into her. She loved being filled with him.

Harry panted as he rammed himself once more inside of her deeply before giving her a light swat, “There we go. Just needed to get off with my little fuck hole or I was going to explode,” he spoke quietly as he pulled out.

She felt him spread her legs and then press the squishy silicone of the plug to her pussy. It was lightweight and shaped so that it wouldn’t come out easily. Once it was pressed inside and secured Harry lifted her by the back of her neck and kissed her, “Stay right here for me. I’ll be back in less than 3 hours. Take a nap. Here,” he helped her onto her side so she could lie down more comfortably.

She smiled at him and already felt herself getting sleepy. She didn’t get to come but she was satisfied being stuffed with his.

Harry left her locked in his room and feeling lighter after having just orgasmed and he wasn’t even late to meet Sean at the front of the hotel to get their car. And as delicious as the dinner was he couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n waiting for him the whole time. He wondered if she’d sleep or if she’d get thirty (he had left her an open bottle of water with a straw in it on the bedside table. Or if she was getting herself all wound up and desperate for him as the minutes went by.

Once the bill was paid Sean and Harry got into the back of the car to have their driver take them back to the hotel, “Let’s go get a drink somewhere.” Sean suggested.

Harry would have if he didn’t have Y/n with her hands tied behind her back and plugged up, waiting for him, “Not tonight. I’m exhausted with the trip here and everything. Maybe tomorrow night.”

“Really? You don’t want to get a drink with me because you’re exhausted?” He didn’t seem like he was buying Harry’s excuse.

Nodding his head he doubled down, “Really. I’m just ready to call it a night.”

Sean nodded and Harry could see he looked like he wanted to say something but was holding back.

“What? You don’t believe me?”

Sean laughed and grinned, “I don’t know. This doesn’t have anything to do with that cute intern does it?”

“Of course it doesn’t. You know the arrangement I have with Romy. I’m getting what I need within her boundaries and our intern doesn’t have anything to do with that.” He lied.

Sean knew all about the agreement Harry had with his wife. He was his best friend after all. Sure they were work partners too, but it was always friends first so he knew everything about what Harry and Romy were going through.

“Okay. Just asking. I believe you.”

Harry nodded. The guilt he felt about lying was slowly fading away every time he did it. He trusted Sean but he didn’t need to know to know everything.

Y/n was wiggling the slightest when Harry walked back into his room. His pretty girl was facing the door with her arms behind her back. Her pupils were wide and dark over her eyes. He could see she was a bit of a mess.

He sat down next to her and smoothed his palm over her hip, “Are you okay, baby? How are your little holes?”

She let out a little breath, “I need you, Daddy. I want you inside of me. Please.”

His grin was proud. She was plugged in both holes and her hips were swaying gently as she lifted her thigh to show him, “Please, Daddy,” she let out a shattered moan.

“Oh, baby. Look at you,” He moved his fingers to rub at her clit and she closed her eyes and gasped lightly.

“Yesss… thank you…” Her words were breathy.

Her clit was slippery but the plug in her pussy was keeping most of her arousal inside. As well as his come from earlier. He gently manipulated her clit, pressing into it and stroking it back and forth with light pressure as she panted and writhed into his hand, her eyes on him.

“There you go. A little relief for my sweet girl. Feels good doesn’t it?” He took his fingers away and walked to the opposite side of the bed behind her to undo her wrists. He knew they must be sore. She watched him over her shoulder with rounded eyes. Still wanting more.

He laughed when he saw her pained look, “Don’t worry. I’ll give you Daddy’s cock soon. Just need to get you comfy first before I put you in a different position. Okay?”

She grumped with a small pout as she turned away. She knew he would take care of her but she was aching. The pussy plug was smushed into her g-spot and every time she shifted her hips she could feel it pressing into it and it was driving her insane. Not to mention the way the butt plug was filling her anus and making her ass tingle in the best way.

Harry rolled her to her back and grasped her chin, turning her face toward him, “Don’t fuss at me. I’m here to put you out of your misery. Unless you’d rather just suck me off and we’ll be done for the night. You get nothing.”

She shook her head, “No. I need it. I’m so… it hurts, Daddy,” she exaggerated. It didn’t actually hurt. But it was achy and she wanted to come so bad her tummy was twisting and she was trembling.

Harry spread her legs apart and looked at the plugs filling her holes before he stood from the bed to take his belt off, “I don’t believe that it hurts, Y/n. I think you’re being dramatic. Would you like it to hurt?” He asked in that mocking way that made her skin glow hot. “I can make it hurt for you if you want.”

He leaned over her with the belt in his hand as she watched him wrap the leather around his fist, leaving the end to drape over her hip as he dragged it up over her tits.

She was so frustrated. She just wanted relief. Her body was vibrating with need and she was so close she knew she’d come if he just kept his fingers on her clit for one minute. She’d be done for. But he was teasing her instead. She cried in frustration, “Please! I need to come!”

Harry grinned and pushed her to her tummy as he straddled the back of her knees to keep her from wiggling too much.

“I don’t like having you cry at me so loudly. You’re being a bit of a brat for Daddy. If you’d just been sweet I’d have let you come on fingers. I know that felt so good on your aching button, didn’t it?”

She nodded into the comforter and turned her head, “It felt so good. I want it. Please.”

He landed the first strike of his leather belt across her cheeks and she yelped, “And how does it feel to be spanked instead?”

She caught her breath and swallowed, “Hurts.”

He gave her another swat and she groaned and arched her back, trying to move away but she was pinned down. “That’s right. See this hurts,” he did it again, leaving behind a mark from the belt across her skin, “Waiting to have your clit rub doesn’t hurt. Isn’t that right?”

She sucked in a sharp breath, “Sorry. You’re right. Sorry, Daddy.” She rushed her words out.

Harry dropped the belt to the floor and removed his shirt as he kept his eyes on her, standing next to the bed, “Get up. Take my pants off for me.”

She shimmed herself around and tried not to put her bottom onto the comforter where her bum was sore before she stood to her feet and bent to quickly undo his pants at his direction.

She’d gotten really good at removing him from his pants. Far better than Romy had ever been. With his wife, she dawdled too much. Y/n never dawdled. She was eager. Desperate. And that’s exactly what he wanted.

She pulled the fabric of his brushed wool pants down his legs and looked up at him as she placed her fingers into the waistband of his underwear, “Can I take these off too, please?”

He loved when she said please. Loved that she wanted him so badly. It fed his ego to be so desired. But mostly he loved it because he wanted her just as badly. He’d really started feeling like she was more than just an arrangement. Y/n was something very special to him.

With Harry’s nod Y/n quickly pulled his underwear down his legs and helped him step out of them before she sat back onto her haunches in front of him, looking up at him from her position on the floor.

She could tell he was pleased with her. Despite his little correction, she knew he enjoyed it.

“On the bed, spread your legs.” Harry instructed.

Y/n stood up and sat onto the mattress and spread her legs. Harry stepped toward her and grasped the soft underside of her knees and lifted so that her feet were pressed into the mattress. He spread her legs apart more and thumbed at her clit.

Y/n bit her lip and watched Harry’s eyes as he focused on her pussy and his thumb.

“Messy. Does this feel good inside of you, Y/n? Made you all swollen and puffy for me didn’t it?”

She nodded, “Yes, Daddy. But not as good as you feel inside of me.”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth to suppress his grin as he looked at his pretty girl, “Is that right? Well I am technically inside of you right now aren’t I?” He teased as he continued to stroke her clit.

She moaned softly and nodded.

“Yes. You’re all full of my come still. And when I take this plug out it’s gonna weep out of your little hole isn’t it?”

Another quick nod of her head as she began to pant. She was going to come. His thumb on her felt too good.

“Daddy…” she whined and pressed her thighs together just enough to indicate what was about to happen, “Can I come, please? Oh!”

Harry chuckled at her desperation as he continued rubbing her, “Go ahead, sweetheart.” He held one of her thighs tight to keep her in place.

Y/n’s eyes rounded out and her mouth dropped open wide as she watched Harry’s face, her orgasm rushing quickly through her veins. With a gently buck of her hips into his hand she gasped and threw her head back.

She knew to keep quiet but it was hard.

Her small squeaks and moans and the view Harry had of her had finished the job of making his cock swell. The toys peeking out from her ass and her pussy were pulsing with her orgasm and somehow she was so wet that she dripped, despite being plugged up.

“Good girl. Being so polite and quiet while you let go with all my come deep inside of you. Feels good to orgasm with my come in there doesn’t it?”

She couldn’t answer him. She was too busy trying to keep her voice down and get through her much-needed orgasm. She clamped around the spongy soft pussy plug and even her anus was quivering.

Harry released her thigh and began to stroke himself as he helped her lie to her back, keeping her bottom close to the edge of the bed as he was still standing.

She was heaving and hot and wiggly as he began to pull at the toy in her pussy. He watched as she stretched around it and her arousal clung to it in strings as it was placed on the bed. He peered down at her pretty hole and thrusted a finger inside then pulling it out to see his come finally run out a little. But he wanted his come to stay inside of her so he grapsed the back of her knees and pressed her thighs to her chest and angled himself above her, his cock pushing into her muscle quickly and deeply.

They both moaned in unison. Harry had needed that. He’d been imagining it all dinner and now he was finally going to have his girl and take his time with her, make her come on his cock like she deserved. Like he deserved.

Harry’s long shaft felt so good moving inside of her. The spongy toy was nice and filling, but it was soft and didn’t move unless she shifted into certain positions. She loved the hardness of him and how deep and heavy it felt. His cockhead stroked her g-spot satisfyingly.

He watched his engorged dick disappear inside of her, coated with her cream and his come. Repeated thrusts punched into her guts made her grunt and groan.

When he pulled out, keeping his dark pink tip pressed to her hole he moaned as he watched more of his come drip out and down to her ass, making a path around the plug and disappearing under her bum as he painted his cock through her sopping crease to collect a little come before plunging himself back in, fucking his own come back into her.

“Stuffed with Daddy’s come and his cock, baby. Feel better now? This what you needed?” He panted his words as he rocked into her in harsh thuds, wet skin colliding.

She grunted a yes and yelped when he ground himself down into her and she felt him in her cervix, nudging in so close to her uterus.

Y/n was spinning and free-falling. Her knees pressed into her chest and Harry’s breathing and the sound of her creamy pussy getting fucked… And the way he felt inside of her… She was in heaven. All she needed was him doing with her what he wanted.

He couldn’t get over how good she always felt. He sometimes wondered if it was just because it was Y/n. Because it was his girl, and that’s why she felt so good around him. Her pussy was always wet for him, always gripped him perfectly, and made his cock feel like it had found its true home. He hated comparing her to Romy but he couldn’t help it. Because he was starting to resent his wife and Y/n was growing more and more important to him. Everything about her was better, he concluded. Not just her pussy and her mouth. But Y/n was better. They fit so well together in every way.

“Gonna take another one of Daddy’s loads, Y/n?”

She breathed a yes and clung to the blankets for leverage as he hammered into her.

“I know you will. But I need you to come first. Give me another,” his balls were already squeezing and cock was throbbing inside of her, precome mixing with his earlier orgasm inside of her.

Y/n wasn’t sure she could come again. She was wiped out. And in that particular position, her clit was neglected completely so it would take a lot longer for her to get close enough.

But of course Harry knew this. Because he’d really gotten to know Y/n’s body over their short time together. They’d done a lot of fucking since he propositioned her so it wasn’t hard to figure out all her little spots and what she needed.

He pulled out and released her legs, “Roll over honey, hands and knees.”

Y/n pushed herself to her side and got up to her hands and knees, ass in the air, the little plug sparkling at Harry.

He smacked her right cheek and then her left before gripping her hips to position her the way he wanted. He kept himself standing as he pulled her cheeks apart and twisted the anal toy, making her jolt slightly.

Harry grinned as he picked his belt up from the ground and returned to his spot. He leaned over her back and wrapped the belt around her neck, looping the end through the buckle for a makeshift leash until it was just tight enough.

He took one of her hands and pulled it up to her core, “Rub your messy pussy while I fuck it.”

His voice was deep and severe. Y/n began to finger at her clit as Harry gripped the belt in his hand and pulled to keep her neck back for him. Carefully, he pushed back into her pussy and hissed. He was sensitive and aching but her warm, slick walls greeted him with relief.

Y/n choked out a moan when she felt Harry begin to glide through her walls and his fingers dug into her hips. The belt around her neck wasn’t as tight as the collar he’d gotten her, but it did squeeze around her neck with a slight pinch that she loved.

When Harry pulled out to grab the belt it gave him a break so he knew he’d be able to last longer until she could finally come. He wanted to feel her pulsating and clenching around him in her orgasm as he came inside of her. There was nothing better in the world than to be in the throws of ecstasy while a warm, wet pussy was fluttering around his cock and milking him of everything.

But his reprieve and the small break did little good. He was on edge nearly immediately upon thrusting into her.

Y/n felt her limbs start to quiver slightly and her pussy just felt so good she could die. That would be the way to go too. With Harry’s dick deep inside of her and drool down her face? Yeah. She’d lived a good life. And that was in part due to the man railing her to death at that moment. Death by cock. Happily.

The belt was pulled back a couple of inches and Y/n’s neck with it. Harry leaned over her back, one fist holding the end of the belt and his other in the mattress right next to your hand, his arm aligned over yours. He pushed in deep and continued to thrust inward, “Hear that, baby?” The slower swing of his hips as his cock inched in and inched back, spreading your dripping cunt apart sounded like an audio porn. You knew you were wet, you always were for Harry, but having him fuck into you not only being aroused and wet but having his last release still inside of you was extra messy. And extra hot so you were both moaning and panting together.

“Yes, Daddy. Sounds like you’re fucking me really good.”

“Yeah? You like getting fucked really good, Y/n?”

“Yes, Daddy!”

Harry stood back up and began to roll his hips into her at a hungrier pace. Y/n was doing everything in her power to keep her volume down as she started to come. With her neck pulled back slightly it felt like she had almost no control. That Harry called the shots. Which had always been the case but the physical act of having his leather belt used to spank her and then wrap around her neck like a leash and collar made her feel unhindered.

When he felt her begin to spasm around him he released the collar and covered her mouth. Her feminine groans were getting louder and louder. He wasn’t sure she even realized it. He gasped at the feeling of being squeezed by her, “So fucking dirty, baby.” Harry’s thrusts became erratic, the jolted motion stunted as he felt the heat of his own end uncoil.

“Fuck, baby…” Harry released into her, his cock throbbing so hard she could feel it inside.

He kept his hips glued to hers as he removed his palm from her mouth and could hear her heavy breaths mixed with his own.

Gently pulling himself out he spread her pussy lips and watched drop after drop gush from her. He kissed her bottom, all the spots where there were small marks from the belt, and then placed a hand on her anal plug, “I’m gonna take this out now, okay?”

Y/n was already melting into the mattress. She was trying her best to stay on her hands and knees but her face and shoulders were already down on the bed, “Okay, Daddy.”

The moment she felt the plug gone she also felt Harry’s absence. She blinked her eyes and lay on her side when heard the tub water running. A few moments after, Harry leaned over her and placed one arm behind the bend of her knees and his other behind her upper back and tilted her into his arms to bring her to the bathroom.

She was used to the routine by now. He’d kiss the bruises or spots where she was spanked and then run her a warm bath. He’d usually give her something to drink and sit behind her in the tub, run his hands over her limbs, and talk about whatever topic felt right in the moment (last time it was about a dog that Harry used to have as a kid) until the water turned tepid and he’d help her out and towel her off and carry her to bed where she’d sleep like a baby.

“Lavender okay?” Harry asked as he lifted up the glass jar of salts after sitting her in the warm tub.

“I love lavender,” Y/n smiled and watched him sprinkle white flakes into the tub before finally climbing in behind her and pulling her back flush against his chest. Y/n leaned her head back into Harry’s clavicle.

“You were so good for me, Y/n. Can you handle another day of that for me tomorrow?”

She nodded with a small smile on her face, eyes closed, “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. It’ll be a longer day tomorrow. More meetings. I’ll come back between to see you,” he kissed her temple.”

“Sounds perfect.”

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DRIVEN BY ADRENALINE suna rintarou. chapter 001 ; only in the movies.

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২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 (1,221)

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 (runa is very talkative, very minimal profanity, first mention of street racing, shy! reader, karasuno! reader, runa dressing reader in … provocative clothing so they look like they fit in, anxious! reader, runa + suna are cousins again — who’s surprised?? [hint: no one !!], social anxiety)

“Hi, I’m Runa! It’s really nice to meet you. I thought you weren’t going to show up at first, but now you’re here! You seem like a nice girl so far— my last roommate was a total bitch. Sorry, I tend to talk a lot about myself. Where are you from?”

You blink at the brunette a couple times. You’ve barely even crossed the threshold of the dorm, and she’s already bombarded you with seemingly hundreds of questions. Your mind catches up with you and you shake your head to clear the fog away. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” you say quietly, giving her a shy smile. “Um, my name is Y/n and I’m from Miyagi Prefecture. What, uh, what about you?”

“No way!” She exclaims, eyes lighting up. “I’m from Miyagi Prefecture. What school did you go to? Shiratorizawa? That school is really good at sports. Or, Karasuno, maybe? They’re also pretty good. I went to Johzenji— they’re okay at sports, but I never really paid attention to anything but volleyball. I was the manager for the boys’ club.”

“Um, yeah, I went to Karasuno. I wasn’t interested in any sports though, my focus was more on the arts. Choir, photography— stuff like that.”

She nods and hums. “Totally understandable. I mean, who wants to sit in a crowded gym full of sweaty people?” She shudders in mock disgust and you snicker quietly. “I sure didn’t. That’s why I was down on the court making sure nobody died from dehydration or anything.”

You laugh, but don’t say anything more. Her face lights up once more, like she’s just realized something, and she claps her hands together. “Oh my god! I didn’t even let you in the dorm yet. Please, come in, set your stuff down.” She steps out of the way and extends her arm, giggling.

You walk past her, glancing around the room. It’s not huge, by any means, but it’s still pretty nice. There’s two beds, two desks, and a loveseat in the corner that was probably a pain to get in the dorm.

You set your things down on your bare bed— your bag, a succulent plant your mother gave you right before you left, and a takeout bag that only has fries left in it. You were planning on giving them to Runa as a housewarming gift, but they’re probably cold now, so you decide not you.

“Okay, so,” Runa starts, making you turn to look at her. “A couple things to know; I talk a lot, which you probably already picked up on.” She laughs. It’s a nice sound. “I’ll keep my side of the room clean if you do. You seem like a clean person, though, so I doubt that will be a problem. I won’t bring anybody in here without talking to you first and I hope you’ll do the same.” She pauses and purses her lips as if in thought. “I think that’s it. If you have any, like, rules or anything let me know!”

You nod slowly, taking in her words. “Sounds great,” you say, smiling. “I don’t really know anyone here yet, so you don’t have to worry about me bringing people here. And I am a pretty clean person, so that’s not a problem either. Um, I probably won’t talk too much until I get to know you better.” You swallow. “Sorry if that’s mean.”

“No, no. I totally get that. I used to be that way, too, but then I was like, ’I don't really care anymore,’ so.” She shrugs. She opens her mouth to say something, but is cut off by a knock at the door. Both of your heads turn just as a piece of what looks like paper slips under the door.

You glance at each other, sharing a confused look, but then she walks over and picks it up. You watch her eyes go from narrowed, to familiarity. “Um, what is it?” You ask.

She flips it over to see if there’s anything on the back, then looks up at you and hesitates. “Uh.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and holds it out to you. “It’s an invitation to a race tonight.”

“A race?” You repeat in a mumble, eyes scanning over the words quickly. ‘T-20. be there at 10 or don’t come at all pussies.’ Your eyes widen a bit and you have to read it again to make sure you’re not hallucinating.

“A street race,” she explains. “They’re, um, like, super rare to get an invitation to. My cousin is racing tonight, so that’s probably why I got one.” You look up to see her brows furrowed. She clocks your gaze and smiles politely. “Do you wanna go with me? It’s not very fun being the only girl there who’s not interested in going home with one of the racers.”

A street race? Like, a real life street race? Those are real? You thought they only existed in movies. Aren’t they illegal?

Hundreds of thoughts flood through your brain and you can feel the palms of your hands start to sweat. You swallow hard. “A street race.” A statement, not a question. “Aren’t those, um…”

“Illegal?” She laughs, but nods. “That’s why they’re invitation-only. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I understand. They’re not everyone's thing.”

You chew on your bottom lip, eyes falling back to the piece of paper in your hands. You applied to this college purely because you heard Tokyo was not boring. What kind of college girl would you be if you declined this invitation. With a deep breath, you nod. “No, I’ll go. Ten o’clock.” You glance at the clock. “Four hours to find an outfit that will make it look like I belong at an illegal street race. No problem.”

She laughs again, smiling so wide her eyes crinkle. “You’re funny, Y/n,” she says. “I think we’re going to be good friends.”

You smile back at her and, once again, she claps her hands together. “I’ll help you find an outfit, don’t worry.” She walks to her closet, then looks back at you. “How comfortable are you with fishnets?”

“Um.”

The two of you leave the dorms at approximately 9:30, riding in Runa’s shitty Toyota Corolla. You have to suppress a laugh when you see it because when she had told you her cousin was racing tonight, you’d expected her to have a nice car like you assume her cousin does.

You were horribly wrong.

When you pull up to the underpass, it’s packed. Actually, maybe packed is an understatement because there are probably over 500 hundred people present. Almost instantly, you start to sweat. Even in the short-shorts and deliberately ripped up t-shirt that Runa dressed you in. Saying you’re out of your element is also probably an understatement.

You step out of the car and a mixture of gasoline and exhaust fumes hits your nose. You try your best not to scrunch your face up, but it happens anyway.

“You get used to the smell!” Runa shouts over the loud music and constant revving of engines. Somewhere to the left of you, someone screams at the top of their lungs. You glance at Runa and she snickers, walking closer to you. “And the noise.”

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

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