#literally everything about this makes my skin boil and crawl

[graceofagodswrath]

Omg your Humans are space orcs/deathworlders + Transformers is just *d e l i c i o u s*. My complaints are pretty much the same, it seems that most humans on the franchise are just manufactured to be hated or simply annoying for being so useless. I want transformers to realize just how hard we have to work to simply stay alive *in our own planet*, with the sheer amount of diseases and poisonous animals and predators and weather and so much more, I want them to wonder how such seemingly fragile beings became the dominant species, how can we be so resilient yet so delicate... I'd like a transformer that particularly hates/is disgusted by humans to swap places with us for like a day or so, the first one that comes to mind is Starscream, I want him to get a glimpse at the daily fight for survival here on Earth and can't help but develop a tiny speck of respect for humans, not that he would ever admit it, even to himself, that he's secretly more mindful of where he steps when there are humans around ever since.

I literally just gave a rundown about this to a friend in a drunken rant the other night, so I am so ready for this.

Starscream wouldn’t be my first pick, based solely on the fact that I haven’t psycho-analyzed him the same way I have others, but imma do my best ~

For situation-sake so my writer brain doesn’t kill itself over context, imma do this in the form of Headcannons. Let’s say Starscream gets stuck in a human body and has to exist as such until he magically gets put back. Until then, he’s stuck with a human who is aware of what he is (vague gn oc/reader, up to whoever. Writing from the viewpoint of “one of us”).

(Also y’all can input any Starscream here cause imma write him in his basic form: whiney, stuck-up, clever little cunt).

- Bro is flabbergasted. Disgusted. Horrified. Out-of-his-mind losing it. Keeps praying to primus it’s a drug-induced hallucination or a dream.

- Wakes up on the soft cushions of a… couch? The word pops up in his head. He knew the basics from his overviews when their war traveled to earth. He brought his servos- No. Hands, up to his face, inspected his new honey, fleshy digits. The detail was too vivid to be a hallucination. Colors were both muted and bright. Starscream found himself automatically trying to adjust his optic intake. But nothing happened. Of course. Because fleshy organics can’t manually adjust their own sensory inputs.

- He curls his lips, and is instantly hit with the feeling of muscle contorting. Skin and flesh was an entirely different sensation from mesh and plating. It made his plating- damnit no, skin crawl. Another sensation trailed up the center of his back, spine and shiver popping up in his mind.

- Even the way his psyche worked was different. Like a new plane of existence. Thoughts were unorganized, uncalculated. Like something that squirmed out of his grasp as he tried to keep hold. Everything felt simplified, yet the awareness and sensations were overwhelming. His entire presence felt… hypocritical.

- Sounds distracted him from his insightful, yet horrific reverie. His gaze drifted to another area of the room, half-built walls sectioning it off, but with flat slabs atop. Counters. A face pops from behind the half-wall. Human eyes catch his, and the creature pulls its lips back to bare its teeth. To smile. Even though humans and cybertronians had similar facial anatomy, the little creatures were so ugly that it was hard to recognize similar expressions.

- “You good bud?” The thing asks. Starscream felt his new face twist into his casual sneer, one laced with aggravation and disgust.

- “Good? Is such a thing possible when you’re a skin bag of flesh and bones?” The humans only response was to broaden their grin.

-“Glad you haven’t lost the attitude. Means you’ll make it out alive.” The nonchalance threw the ex-cybertronian for a loop.

- “You… know me?” That grin turned into a smirk that made the non-energon in his lines boil.

- “You’re Starscream, second-in-command to Megatron, lord of the deceptions, yada yada yada… yeah I know who you are.” They leaned back against the wall, eyes boring into the deception. Starscream found himself wondering if human eyes were always so disturbingly piercing.

- “Wonderful.” He shoved the unsettled feeling to the back of his head, determined to figure out a solution and still be in control. “Then you can explain how and why I am in this disgusting organic form.”

- The smirk disappeared into an odd expression Starscream had never seen before. The human flattened their lips and pursed their… cheeks. It looked entirely stupid. But something in the back of his head whispered apologetic.

- “I’m not sure on the exact details, but I can tell you it won’t last long. I’m basically your caretaker until it wears off.”

- Instinctually, Starscream’s brows raised. “That’s it? Is this some new human weapon, cruel imprisonment within one your fleshy bodies?”

- The human tilted their head back and laughed, once again taking Starscream off guard. Their casual presence was so different from the fight-or-die everyday lifestyle that gripped his species.

- “Nope. Just a random accident that you’re the unfortunate victim of.” At the con’s bewildered stare, the human pushed their mouth outwards, changing the pitch of their voice as they said, “aww, poor baby. Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.” Then they whirled around and walked into the other room.

- Man is flabbergasted. Is out of his element and cannot function. Cue him trying to stand and do normal things, and bust his ass because the different sensations hitting him all at once. Organic nervous systems feel very different from techno ones.

- First thing he starts doing is eating and drinking. It takes a couple hours, but his “babysitter” eventually gets him to try something. Water first, of course (he refused any organic foods). The con is disgusted, but moderately pleased that the tasteless liquid isn’t slimy or thicker like he expected. It’s actually rather soothing to his human body.

- The first food he willingly tries is melon. Honeydew to be precise. Refused to touch meat, as the idea of eating actual organic flesh was unfathomable. He was pleasantly surprised to find the flavor of the fruit likable. Humans don’t taste things the same way cybertronians do. Whereas energon has a more electrical charge to it (to put it in human words), Earth flavors were smoother. Discovers he has a huge sweet tooth (as his “babysitter” put it).

- His human guardian took this opportunity to drag him out of their home and go shopping for more consumables. Let him pick things he found somewhat pleasing, but chose most others. Lots of fruit to try and other non-meats. Went in to try the other types of fruit. Has a preference for honeydew, strawberries, cantaloupe, watermelon, and grapes. Really likes (loves but won’t admit) pineapple and raspberries. The sour/sweetness is similar to energon. Citruses like oranges and mandarin are also similar, but he prefers more sweetness than straight sour. Kiwi is also a treat.

- (I headcannon that energon is similar to sour patch kids and skittles, super sweet and sour with an electric tang and texture. So all transformers would be immediate sweet lovers as humans because of the similarity).

- Hates anything dull or flavorless. Don’t try to feed this man spinach, he’ll call you grass-eating fleshbag.

- Drinks water only because he has too (stupid human body), but once he discovers those liquid flavors he can put in, it’s all he uses. Tried juices when he found out they were liquids derived from the fruit he likes. Got excited when it tasted almost like energon and tried to only consume juice from then on. His guardian explained that humans couldn’t only exist on juice, but of course he tried to argue that all he needed was nutrients in liquid. He then discovered smoothies. Nearly did the same thing until he actually tried them. Hated the thickness and gritty texture.

- A couple days go by and his guardian decides it’s time to get him tf out properly. Man is lounging around all the time. If he’s not on the couch making fun of human entertainment and politics, he’s following his guardian meatbag around and demanding answers for his current predicament.

- So his guardian starts small. Hauls his ass outside for a jog. This is where things really get interesting. Starscream is unaware of how human bodies work. When his guardian begins a slow run, he gets confused. Why would you run when you can walk fine? Where were they going? Leads to an explaination of exercise, which results in the con doing his usual snide shit of “you force yourselves to go through training otherwise your bodies become slow and unusable? How unsurprising.” And they’re like “yes and nooo, it’s so we can stay strong and get stronger as time goes on. Staying strong allows us to do cool things.”

- Cool things like what? Well his guardian gets an evil idea in their head. Starscream hates running. Hates using his legs and having nothing to do with his arms. Don’t even get them started on the tantrum he threw when he started sweating (fluids exiting one’s body? Horrifying).

- So his guardian introduces him to swimming. The con is a jet in his natural form, and the closest he’ll get to that as a human without a shit ton of equipment will be the water.

- Problem is the man has to learn to swim first. And willingly get in the water. Stays on the edge of the lap pool the first few times, watching with his nose turned up at the humans swimming.

- However, he starts to slowly dip his toes in the water. The sensation is… interesting. It’s not dislikable on human skin. In fact, on the hotter days it’s very soothing, like when he drinks water (finds out he can’t drink this kind tho, chemicals and bodies in it and such).

- Eventually he gets in, staying in the shallow area. His guardian helps him learn how to swim. It feels humiliating, learning to kick and tread water, while watching human children do it with relative ease. It feels strange to use his body in such ways. But with his guardian constantly reminding that none of his cybertronian peers knew or will know of his situation, AND their constant praise, he finds it in himself to continue.

- The praise he receives from his guardian is also something he’s not used to. As well as other humans willing to help him learn. It apparently wasn’t uncommon for many adult humans to not know how to swim or do other things, and gave him more confidence to learn. He’d never admit it, but he tried harder to learn just to hear the praise from others. It felt nice to be treated kindly. Better than nice. But again, he’d never admit it. He’d just respond with a clever quip. Never did anyone hear a thanks (but most quickly figured out he was grateful from the obvious burning red on his copper-toned neck and ears).

- Weeks drag on, and to distract himself from the impatience of going back to his normal, Starscream becomes an excellent swimmer. He finds it is like flying, the way the water holds up his body. When he holds his breath and dips under the surface, he can almost imagine his rocket boosters on his pedestal holding him aloft in the sky.

- From the work it took, he gained a slight appreciated for how his human body worked. At first he thought it was a hindrance. But as he worked with the others, he began to have an understanding that unsettled the cybertronian part of him.

- Humans were incredibly versatile. After he began to improve greatly at swimming, he asked about other activities humans did for exercise. The resulted in learning that humans didn’t always “exercise” to become strong. Many did it for fun. It was a hobby to them, and the exercise was a great benefit. It kept their minds clear, it kept their bodies healthy, and it satisfies a part of them that he was only beginning to discover.

- Starscream was aware of human creativity. It’s what had made their species a slight hindrance when they aided the autobots in the war, but because of their size, they were seen as nothing but bugs. Pests at the most. But as the con experienced this small bit of human life, he began to understand there was more to them than he’d like to admit. There was this drive to do things, to push themselves beyond their current capabilities.

- He learned of skills that human no longer needed but still learned to take pride in for fun. Swimming was only a base skill. There were humans that attempted to swim across the oceans just to see if they could, even with the high chance of death. Beyond swimming, there was running across land for days on end, jumping off cliffs and diving in spectacular ways, gliding across the sky’s on flimsy metal pipes and fabric, and so much more. Their adaptability to any environment was envious.

- It nearly terrified him, the thought of what if humans were the same size as cybertronians. What if they could acutally measure up to other species of their universe? They could do anything. They would be a real threat. Or the greatest ally any race could ask for.

- His lid has been flipped.

- Eventually he wakes up back in his habsuite in his normal body. The euphoria that rushes through him at the familiarity his nothing he’s ever experienced before. Checking his info screens, he discovers no time passed. As if he had dreamed all of it. But when he looks to his desk in the room, he sees it.

- Starscream picks the item up, inspecting it, and feels his spark skip a pulse. It’s a small ring and chain, attached to two metal objects. Both in the shape and color of a pineapple and raspberry.

[lonelystarrs]

Dry Your Eyes, Mate.

Oliver Aiku X FemReader

Sometimes it’s too late, sometimes the timing is never right.

Inspired by my post: Oliver Aiku has a rideable face, but needs a jab in the throat.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI • NSFW • smut • oral receiving (fem) • karma • angst no comfort • Oliver Pining • hints of past cheating •

word count 2.2k

Hate was a strong word to use, some not really ever fully understanding the true depth of it, saying it so freely when it should only be used for things that truly made you feel it. 

Oh, but you did. 

Hate was something that made your skin crawl, it boiled the acid in your stomach and plagued your mind like a disease. 

That’s what hate was. 

It was so close to love, so close in fact sometimes it was hard to tell the two apart, it’s odd isn’t it?

You didn’t hate many things in life, not many things made your skin crawl, or your fists clench and your teeth grit. 

But Oliver Aiku did. 

God he made you want to scream and punch something. 

That smug little smile on his face whenever he looked at you, even now as he looked up at you glaring down at him, your thighs either side his head as his hands danced over them. Squeezing the fat and muscle before massaging with his thumbs.

His hair was a mess, light sweat dotting across his forehead and dark strands stuck to parts of his face. He was worked up from the rough kissing, the grinding and  now his mouth was watering with how close he was to running his tongue through your pussy. 

“Knew you couldn’t stay away too long, we work together, just accept it.”

Your eyes rolled at his cocky words and suggestive tone, ignoring them you lifted yourself from his chest, one hand running through his hair to pull his head back and he winced, his teeth gritting but he chuckled through it. 

“Oi, it only gets me off more when you get all bratty!” 

“Oliver?”  

Those odd coloured eyes looked up at you all glassy, seeing you above him like that looking so fucking pretty for him. That dainty lilac see through, lacy bra cupping your tits, your hair in a high pony tail, plump pink lips all glossy and swollen from him kissing you. 

“Yeah babe?” 

“Just shut up will you?” 

“Mak-“ 

He didn’t have time to finish as you lowered yourself to sit over his face, his lips pressing into your pussy as you wiggled on him to find the place you wanted to be touched, an airy moan leaving you as his hot breath fanned against your clit. 

“Use your tongue Aiku, s’all your damn mouth is good for.” 

He hummed into you his tongue lifting to brush against your swollen clit before sucking on it. Your body stuttered at his actions and you lifted yourself to roll your hips in time with his tongue, fucking his face to chase your own high. 

“Ngh- that’s it, good boy.” 

Fuck he loved it when you sang like that to him, all breathy and satisfied —praising him with that haunting phrase of ‘good boy.’

His thick cock flexed against his stomach, reacting as arousal shot through his body to his lower half. His hips bucking up by their own accord as he tried to find his own stimulation for his throbbing dick. 

Drool and slick covered his chin, soon dripping down his neck as he literally drank you. Eyes opened to watch you above him, to watch you use him to make yourself cum on his face —it was beyond fucking hot seeing you use him like that. 

So bratty yet you just looked so damn beautiful sat on him riding his tongue. Your cheeks and nose dusted pink whilst light, airy pants coming from your mouth that was ajar. Your glassy eyes half hooded as you watched his face buried in your cunt, refusing meeting his own eyes as they looked at you all doe like. Tits bouncing as your hips rolled against his face, your stomach tensing as you took full advantage of his mouth.

God you felt so good, always tasted so sweet. Everything about you was pleasant - your body lotion that he used to love watching you do before bed, your body wash filling the room after every shower, even your damn shampoo made him inhale deeply. The little things that were also just so you. He thought of you every time he smelt your perfume if another girl walked by wearing it, it never suited them as well.

But his favourite thing? That pussy, you tasted like fucking honey on his tongue.  —you were fucking intoxicating from head to toe. 

His mouth got greedy as he roughly fucked his tongue against your clit, his cock was throbbing against his stomach and he felt kept flexing it, managing to angle himself enough so his sensitive cock head brushed against his stomach with each roll of his hips.

He was gonna cum from this, if you kept pulling his hair like that and grinding your pussy on his face -he was absolutely gonna blow his load.

Your hand tightened in his hair as you forced his head back more, that build up in his lower stomach racing to his dick and he moaned into you again. He sucked harder on your clit and rolled his tongue in circles, your other hand moved down to spread your pussy for him to access your clit better as you opened up for him and he sang under you. 

There weren’t many girls who’d have the confidence to sit on his face and spread their cunt open for him to eat out.

But you always rode his face like a damn champ. 

“Gonna cum sweetheart?” 

He didn’t need to really ask he knew your body as well you knew his —he’d fucked you so many times over the last two years he lost count. The other girls eventually fading into nothing but numbers on his phone, his attention gradually turning less to watch them and focus on you.

But he wasn’t entirely innocent of settling yet, this back and forth between you both, your reluctance to trust him anymore.

You nodded dumbly, sucking again he lightened his tongue but picked up his pace and he watched you see stars above him. 

“There, fuck there Aiku don’t move, m’gonna cum -hah - yes, yes -oh fuck yeah.” 

Oliver’s arms hooked over your hips and thighs to stop you from lifting from him and he buried his face into you, holding his tongue out and pressing it against your clit he lightly shook his head side to side. You came fucking hard for him, all he heard was your sharp intake of breath, your mouth hung ajar and you practically going crossed eyed for him. 

His eyes never left you as he watched you cum on his tongue, your body shook on the come down and tried to recoil from him over stimulating you, but he refused to stop, arms kept hooking you down to him he sucked hard again pressing his tongue harshly against your clit and seen the panic cross your face, hand bracing against his chest to try pull away. 

“N-No, Oli d-don’t I’ll-“ 

“Fuck yeah you will, give it to me babe, seriously, squirt on my face yeah? I wan’it.” 

He slurred against your pussy, feeling the cum already drooling from your pretty little hole and down his chin. His tongue dipped down to collect it, moaning against you and he felt you clench around his tongue. 

“Oh? Like it when I eat the cum from you huh? Or like hearing me moan over how good you taste?” 

You stuttered a shut up to him, your body was recoiling as you felt the built up for something much harder about to hit you and he didn’t stop until you gushed in his mouth. Cumming again so hard you let out a muffled scream, your hand rising to your mouth to bite down on. Your hips jolting against him from keeping you fixed from moving, forcing you to take it.

“Fuck, fuck m’gonna cum babe,”

Aiku braced his feet against the mattress, rutting his lifted hips up to aid the friction and that one final roll of his hips, the head of his cock brushed over his stomach had him cumming without being touched. Cum shooting up his stomach and hitting your ass, burying his face back into your pussy as he moaned out. 

You leaned back, hands resting on the bed either side of his hips, both breathing heavy as you recovered. 

When he looked up his heart kicked in his ribs at the sight of you. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck why did it have to be you? 

Karma was such a bitch. 

The cold washed over his body as the heat of his high drained from him, leaving a shit reminder that you wouldn’t stay the night —that you’d probably not speak to him again for a couple weeks or you’d go back to avoiding him. 

He’d keep texting you, he’d keep trying because this was better than nothing —better than you not being in his life… right?

This way he could stop you from moving on, it was toxic and he knew it but he was selfish when it came to you. 

He was grown now in his late twenties, compared to his youth of juggling girls around like options and opportunities. But his reputation only proved itself when he didn’t realise you were different and he tried treating this like everyone else in his past. 

You gave him a chance once before and he blew it.

He just didn’t know back then… if he did, if he realised what he felt now he’d have curbed his shitty behaviour. 

He knew now he was damn well in love with you, but you’d never believe him or settle for him. 

He knew because his heart still thumped for you after cumming and sex, he still thought about you and still wanted you. He wanted those comfy mornings, the dates and he wanted the world to see you were his and he was yours.  Post nut clarity was always non existent in this situationship with you. 

He called your name and you sighed heavily, those glassy, half hooded eyes he adored looking away from him because you knew what he was going to say. He seen your shoulders tense, the dread coursing through your body. 

“Give me another chance? 

“I can’t, Oli.” 

“We can take it slow, there’s no ru-“ 

“I just don’t think I can trust you, I want to but I can’t.” 

“We’ll go public, screw the pr teams. I’ll take you with me when I travel -fuck I’ll even let you track me on my phone.” 

He sat up onto his elbows, causing you to fall back slightly to sit on his stomach, his legs bent up to catch and support you with his thick thighs, his fingers drawing light patterns on your legs. 

Those double coloured eyes of his were glossy watching you and you honestly thought he was holding back from crying. 

“It’s not healthy, I shouldn’t need a tracker on you that’s crazy.” 

“Yeah, well you make me crazy —in a good way. Just give it a go with me again, its been two years of this you gotta feel something if you’re coming back.” 

“Have you thought about me? How it might not be healthy for me? I don’t want to be second guessing everything, or feeling paranoid if there’s others in the background.” 

“I haven’t been with anyone else in 9 months, I ain’t fucking messing about this.” 

“What?” 

His jaw clenched at your shocked expression and he looked off across the room, tilting his head down so his hair hid his eyes, hid the fact he felt his fucking nose and throat sting. 

He was frustrated. 

“I haven’t been with anyone —I can’t.” 

“Oli stop with this silver tongue crap I’m no-“ 

“Will you just fucking trust me? I can’t since I realised I was damn well in love with you. It doesn’t work anymore.” 

He heard your breath hitch and he felt his own as he all but blurted out something he didn’t want to admit, not like this anyway —not because he was getting damn emotional over this crappy situation.

No it didn’t work, literally, lil Aiku was struggling to reach his glorious ending, sex was empty now —cumming just didn’t happen. His heart throbbed for you, end of, plain and simple and apparently now his dick was following the same process. 

“What doesn’t work?” The confused was clear on your face.

“That’s what you’re focused on in that sentence?” 

He chuckled before gently rolling you off him and swinging himself off the bed, elbows resting on his knees as he ran a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“If you really want me to leave you alone, fine. But I don’t want to, I wanna make this work.” 

Your silence went on long enough, he pinched the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat trying to hold on to the restraint from actually fucking crying in front of you. 

“Fine. I’ll leave ya to it.” 

You thought it was for the best when he moved to the bathroom and cleaned himself up, that it was for the best when he left the house with a little slam of the door. 

Yet it was gnawing at you for the rest of the night, your sleep was disturbed, tossing in the sheets like your mind rattling in your skull. 

It doesn’t work.

I’m in love with you. 

I wanna make this work. 

You threw the pillow over your face and screamed into it, feet kicking at the mattress as they recoiled from the springs. 

You peaked at your phone through the gap in your pillow and glared at it. 

Snatching it from the side you opened his chat bubble on your messages. 

You > Oliver if you’re honestly serious then we can try. But if I so much as hear about another girl I am done for good and you won’t contact me again, if you agree to respect that then I’m willing to try. I really hate how you left, I shouldn’t have let you leave like that so late either. I’m sorry. I hope you’re home safe.

Sent 3:35am 

Automatic Response: Message undeliverable. 

© pharix 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.

[magicxc]

Square Up

Pairings: Survey Corps x Reader - things they do that annoy you

Word Count: 1029

Warnings: none

A/N: You know what really grinds my gears? When people are cruising on the road at 8am. Bitch move over, I’m literally late for work 😭 

Lol that being said, here’s some everyday routines where I think the guys would be most annoying. 

Headcannons Masterlist

Eren - leaves the big pot to soak.

You’re thankful for the help you really are, but you’d be even more thankful if Eren didn’t half ass the job. Albeit some of those food stains are really stubborn and just refuse to move, but every time? Not even! One day you had put on a pot of water to bring some potatoes to a boil, eager to stuff your face with the fluffy goodness of your handmade garlic mashed potatoes. And sure enough when dinner was long gone there the pot sat atop the stove, unwashed, because it needed “to soak.” You get it, Eren hates doing the dishes but you might actually cry the day you walk into the kitchen and meet the sink empty. You've complained about it on occasion but truth be told it doesn't bother you as much as it used to. He's even gotten creative and started hiding the pots in the oven and you can't help but giggle, closing the door so as to keep his "secrets" hidden.

Levi - adds water to the empty soap bottle to make it last longer.

Levi lives a somewhat frugal lifestyle and it has everything to do with his upbringing. Thankfully he’s a lot less stingy than he used to be, but this habit in particular has been the hardest to kick; and you just about pull your hair out every time. It's not even like there's not enough soap to spare. It's mostly him getting the most use out of the lingering soapy particles as he can. Surely it no longer serves its protective purposes, no matter how sudsy the results are? You've  since learned to keep an extra bottle of personal soap in the cabinets for such a time, bringing it to the countertops once Levi has exhausted all efforts with the previous one. 

Erwin - loud eater.

It’s not even an Erwin thing to be honest, it’s a people thing. Slurpers, suckers, gulpers, they can all get it. Cause why? The only people who can actively change the way they eat are the open mouthers, so you don't even waste your time with the Commander. Some background noise on the tv or radio can help you through most meals, but it doesn't stop your skin from crawling at the idea or pause in noise volume. 

Connie - leaves a swig of juice left in the carton. 

This one blows literal steam out of your ears because what was even the point. If an 8 ounce glass of orange juice was just poured and there’s 2 ounces left, just finish the damn thing. You’ve heard excuses ranging from he didn’t want to because then he’d feel bad for not leaving you any to he simply wasn't thirsty enough the last gulp; but none of those ever make it better. Connie still does this but makes an extra effort to hide the carton in the deepest part of the fridge for when he’s ready to finish its contents. 

Jean - revs his engine loud as hell.

At first you thought it couldn't be helped until one day you had to borrow Jeans car to run a few errands. Then it all clicked. This mf wants to be seen. He wants people to know it's his engine with all that horsepower beneath the hood. He wants any chance he has to show off his sleek ride that he’s worked so hard for. Unfortunately it's all at the expense of your eardrums and now you only ride with Jean out of necessity. When you do ride with him, however, you make sure to roll all the windows up, not that it helps much.

Onyankopon - uses all the hot water after a shower. 

While it is annoying you don't mind this one so much during the summer time or the night time. But it just about drives you nuts in the morning and during the winter months because not only are you now running late for work waiting for some hot water to kick in but if it doesn't in time, now you have to suffer through a cold and uncomfortable shower. You've since started looking up the benefits of a cold shower but none of them has outweighed your comfort. So you've started showering before him, dashing into the bathroom as soon as you even think he's about to get in there.

Reiner - sets his alarm but never hears it. 

This one really does you in. You're not the lightest sleeper but you can definitely hear when an alarm is non stop ringing. You sometimes envy the deep sleep that Reiner manages to engulf himself in but then slowly remember that it's borderline dangerous. The only reason you don't throw a bitch fit is because y’all have similar work schedules, so the alarm also works in your favor. But he's definitely gotten the occasional pillow to the face or slap to the arm; not that he ever feels it.

Armin - gotta take a pic of every meal.

It's all about presentation with Armin. You can cook a pot of ramen noodles and he’d grab his camera if you fixed it up nice. Y'all are at dinner and the waiter brings the food by? Can't dig in until he has the perfect shot. Usually you don't mind, but his perfect shot takes at least four different angles and your stomach gets louder by the minute. You haven't found a way around this one just yet, so you instead endure the torture.

Floch - watches his tv with the volume level on ignorant. 

Why must the house sound like a surround sound movie theater you’ll never know. Action movies you understand. You'll even bite for thrillers. But anything else? It’s definitely up for debate. You can literally step outside on the curb of the street and still hear the entirety of the movie playing. You assume the loud noise is so he can submerge himself in the plot of the film but you’re running out of different ways to tell him to turn that shit down. The new rule now is nothing on the screens past 7pm if he can't watch it at regular volume.

Tags - @eveningatthemoviesnetwork

[dottie-writes-haikyuu]

Whatever I’ve Done….

This is part 12 of my fic Not Everyone Survives (But I will do the Best I Can). Tags and other chapters can be found here!

I did it for love / I did it for fun / Couldn’t get enough…

Koutarou couldn’t exactly conceal the dread pooling within him when he saw Tsukishima and the rugrats enter the lab. The blonde avoided his eyes and watched all the curious, confused, and concerned glances he got from the rugrats. Some of them, he recognized.

“This is Subject 8. We will be using it to find a cure to the virus and put an end to the apocalypse.”

That felt weird. ‘Subject 8’. And they made him feel like an object, or a specimen of some kind. He was a person. He was a human.

There was an uneasy silence for a second.

“Wait, isn’t that Bokuto, from Torch, though?”

“We will be referring to it as Subject 8 during its stay here.”

“Why?”

“Don’t question it. Orders from Captain.”

“He’s a consenting test subject, don’t worry,” Tobio assured from the doorway. The ravenette walked in and sat at one of the empty tables.

Consenting.

That was funny.

The first week was probably the worst. He was having needles shoved into him, things taken out of him, chemicals put into him. Most of it hurt. Some of them looked pitying, others curious.

“Isn’t this acid?” one of the guys asked, and Tsukishima looked away.

“Continue with the procedure.”

What.

What what what.

“But—“

“Anyone who shows sympathy for the subject will be punished,” Shouyou stated from the doorway. They were about four days in now. He already hated the sound of the ginger’s voice. “Continue with the procedure.”

He was gonna throw up.

He steeled himself, unable to meet the boy’s teary, apologetic eyes as he grit his teeth, clenching his fists and willing himself not to react too badly. Just don’t react too badly.

And then it started.

It spread through his veins at an excruciatingly slow rate and made his vision blur. The world was spinning and he couldn’t focus on anything else except for the sensation of being set ablaze and the fire crawling up his body was taking its time, spreading only with every pulse of his heart. He couldn’t even make a sound. He couldn’t move.

The voices around him were muffled and the heart monitor in his collar started beeping quicker than normal and then everything was yelling and his skin felt like it was quite literally boiling. He couldn’t see, only endure the sensation of his skin bubbling and liquifying as everything shrieked around him and his ears rang and he couldn’t feel anything except for that and—

Nothing.

He woke up later to the muffled voices of Shouyou, Tobio, Sugawara, and Tsukishima.

“That almost killed him,” Suga protested. “If he can’t handle this, how will he possibly handle the cure extraction?”

“Subject 8 will handle any experimentation. Now that the substance is in its bloodstream, it’ll be fine. It makes its DNA more…malleable, per se. We just had to sedate it before it could have a heart attack.”

“Can we stop with the ‘it’ bullcrap?! You’re pissing me off,” Suga hissed. Shouyou slammed a fist on the table.

“You wanna think of it as a person?? Then sympathy and empathy come along and you lose sight of what’s truly important: the cure. Stop being selfish and remember that this isn’t fucking about you. This is for all of us.”

There was a bout of silence.

“Wake it up,” Shouyou demanded suddenly.

“Well, the only way to do that would be—“

“Shock it, I don’t care,” the ginger scoffed. “I need to run diagnostics.”

Dread filled his veins quickly and he snapped his eyes open and scrambled back against the wall quickly, his breaths coming fast.

“Oh, it’s unnecessary. Hello, Bokuto.”

He didn’t respond at first, looking up at the ginger with wide eyes. A look of fake pity.

“Disoriented, huh? Well, you did almost go into cardiac arrest. Don’t worry. It’ll be a lot simpler now.”

He couldn’t manage more than a nod.

He hoped Keiji would save him soon. 

—

Subject 8 was uncooperative lately. Maybe he should up the severity of the punishments. He sat in on experiments again, around three weeks in.

The same rugrat who’d always seemed to feel a bit more guilt than the others was arguing with Tsukishima today.

“It’s not right! And you know that! That’s why you can’t even look at him!”

Oh. He couldn’t have that. He couldn’t have his rugrats questioning the very very carefully curated idea he’d presented. This was for all of them. He couldn’t afford to have it ruined. Not when this was their saving grace.

“Subject 8 is vital to our ending the apocalypse. Continue with the procedure.”

“This is genetic manipulation! Not even, this is essentially a species change we’re talking about—“

“This isn’t my fucking choice,” Tsukishima snapped. “This is by orders of the Captain, and this…this is for all of us. I’m not a monster, I—“

Tsukishima couldn’t waver. He had to stop this now.

“Of course not,” he chimed from the door, walking in with a smile. His voice was soothing, though it had an edge. “What, is someone doubting my judgment?”

He kept his tone playful. Tsukishima cleared his throat.

“The rugrat.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“He’s been showing sympathy for Subject 8 for the past 3 weeks.”

“Well,” he said with a small chuckle. “We can’t have that, can we?”

He straightened up.

“Tobio, go get everyone else. I think we’ll have a meeting on the roof. All the rugrats, all the members. Everyone.”

His boyfriend stood, nodding, and then left. He couldn’t help his smile. The rugrat was looking up at him, his hands shaking a little.

“What’s your name?”

“I, uhm…”

“Your name. What is it?”

“Apollo.”

“Alrighty, Apollo, come with me.”

The boy opened his mouth to say something, probably to protest and try to save himself, but Shouyou wasn’t in the mood to hear it.

“Quietly, please.”

And his mouth snapped shut. And so they all met on the roof. Shouyou stood on the edge with the boy. Subject 8 was there too, in the front. Good. It should see this.

“Sorry to pull all of you from your daily tasks, but I figured this is something everyone should see. After all, we’re supposed to lead by example, right?”

The rugrat was trying very hard not to cry. He could feel it.

He wouldn’t have to do this if everyone just listened. He’d liked Bokuto. He’d really really admired him. He still did. But he needed to do this to save everyone, including Bokuto.

Suga and the others looked away as Shouyou continued speaking.

“We all know that anyone who sympathizes with Subject 8 is to face punishment, correct? We can’t exactly have liabilities for Project Savior. This, after all, is for all of us! It’s to end the apocalypse! You want to live, don’t you? Don’t want to keep losing people to the apocalypse, right? This is our key!”

He turned to the boy, Apollo, who was looking at the ground and trembling.

“This is Apollo. He is a Subject 8 sympathizer and a risk to our work on Project Savior as well as to our very safety. After all, he could tell the others that we have Subject 8, and if that happens…well, we’ll probably all be killed.”

That sent a stir through the crowd.

“And so, this is what happens, to those who put our very lives at risk.”

He moved so he was standing behind the boy, who was facing the edge of the roof, and then grabbed him by the shoulder. His free hand took the gun out of its holster, and aimed.

Take out his legs so he can’t walk.

BANG! BANG!

The boy screamed immediately, and Shouyou had to keep him standing with the grip on his shoulder.

He was, what, thirteen?

Don’t think about that.

He’s a risk.

He deserves this.

And then take out his shoulders so he can’t crawl.

BANG! BANG!

He drowned out the sounds around him so he didn’t have to think about it. He then aimed for the fourth vertebrae.

Pull the trigger and then dispose of the body. That was all he had to do.

BANG!

He dropped it off the roof, then turned back to those gathered.

“Just remember. This cure isn’t just for Messenger. It’s for all of us.”

Previous chapter

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Everything is so awful right now.

I was already freaking out from the thieves, barely slept, and literally shaking from the emotions and anxiety of going into the shop for the first time since the robberies started to hunt for tools I need that probably aren’t there.

And then every little thing went wrong.

The coffee maker is broken, so I was boiling water to make coffee and the kettle leaked turning the stove into a lagoon.

I’d set on the stove a pocket knife I need for opening the dog flea/tick stuff and a good tape measure or measuring a fence, but even though they had been set on the “dry” side the paper towel I’d set them on touched the edge of the water and wicked it up, soaking them before I got back.

I was slow getting back because the wound on my ankle has reopened, so it took extra bandaging and walking is agony.

Opening the canned food I need for a couple of the cats, the pull tab tore off. The can opener doesn’t work right, so I was able to only open about a third of the can and had to pry the rest.

I found ticks on me and a mosquito biting me before I even set foot out of the house.

The stove was crawling with ants, and with no counters I tried to set things on the coffee maker. Ants would get in my food anyway. (Come on ant poison, arrive early!)

I decided to make myself an omelette as a treat, only to forget how the burner doesn’t work because for a couple weeks it had been working again. Now it was back to “high or off” temperatures. So I had burned omelette. Yum.

I had just enough milk left for my coffee. It had gone bad, adding a “lovely” tang to my coffee.

The fridge had fluctuated in temperature, having thawed stuff that had been frozen in the back (it freezes stuff there in summer, so I had actually counted on it to make some things last longer with my once a month shopping). I am not going to be eating mushy freeze and thaw veggies.

I dropped my tooth brush, bristles down, on the most filthy part of the floor.

A couple of dogs had scratched their sore skin so much it bled, so I had to treat them for that was well as their normal medicines.

Now I have to go deal with the fence, and all that work and stress, on a day with a forecast heat index of 106F.

I know that the thieves know they can just walk around the side of the fence by Ryoga’s. I know there is no way I can fence it off because I have no where near enough fencing and no posts.

And, yes, I KNOW I could just set up a camera there….but are YOU going to help me buy a camera??? I can’t afford an oil change for my car and people keep suggesting things to do to protect myself that involve money!!!!**

**And guns…..of, course. Trouble is I haven’t used the guns in about, um, well, more than ten years since Pop was alive. The Luger is the only one I know is usable since Mom got it worked on just before her stroke (five years ago…but still), but I can never find the blasted thing. I know I put it somewhere safe, but.. It isn’t kept in the gun cabinet, since I have lost the key to the cabinet! LOL

But honestly, what good is a gun with thieves that sneak in when you aren’t looking anyway? A gun isn’t going to help, damn it! And neither is the person suggesting it…

[the-good-luck-anomaly]

I am so glad you liked my tags, your art is fucking epic (I love how unsettling it is!!! It's amazing!!!!!) and also I just really like infodumping anything and everything I learned about the Tzimisce clan in VTM cause of Viv and Vex (it's the clan they'd be from, cause it's the only one that can do the fucked up body things they do, and I got obsessed enough with them to read the clanbooks, which are like, supplementary stuff, lol)

To be fair, the idea of vampires "rotting" while "alive" isn't specifically mentioned in the lore that I remember (outside of maybe some of the Nosferatu stuff), I was just saying that I am a sucker (haha) for any creative interpretations of the differences between human and vampire biology, because Ough Anatomy Fun, and something like making the Obtenebration literally eat at Arthur's flesh like mold is So Fucking Cool! Rot and decay in a special way! Degradation of the human form!!! Is he willing to accept that he's a monster yet?!

However, yeah! I fully thought you'd read the source material stuff with Viv specifically phrasing it as her and Vex having control over their evolution, cause the concept of vampiric forms as an evolution is like the Entire mindset behind their clan! Like, the idea is that humans are above animals, and vampires are above humans, so they must look for a way to become something above a vampire!

SORRY I TOOK A MMIIILLION YEARS TO RESPOND BUT I SO SO RARLEY CHECK MY INBOX AND ALSO I HAVA HUGE RAMBLE THAT IM PUTTIN UNDER THE CUT. THANKYOYUUUU FOR SENDING ME UR BRAIN I LOVE YOU FOREVER

HEHEHE IVE JUST ALWAYS BEEN SO IN LOVE W 'CONQUERING EVOLUTION' IN GENERAL.. my favorite depiction of vampires EVER has always been the Pillar Men from jjba. Ancient Aztec Vampires, who can essentially just control everything their cells do, prompting all sorts of body horror bullshit thats just REEAALLLY COOOOOOLL... now THATS conquering your own evolution! now THATS mind over matter!!! (the body horror goes from like. boiling their own blood within themselves to spray it on others. to like. liquifying their bones so they can flatten and squeeze through small air vents. and also crawl into someones open wound. its so much) the whole quest of the pillar men was conquering the Sun so the wouldnt burn up in it, and that was their vision of a Perfect Being, since theyre already so powerful and that final evolution would make them entirely unkillable. ATLEAST THAts mostly what inspired my favorite ideals w vampirism. and the fact that viv and vex introduced themselves as like. carving themselves to be EXACTLY what they want to be. their skin and hair and bodies and faces and insides are sculpted to their precise liking, all because they realized that a body is truly only a Temple, and temples can be renovated! AND vampirism gives them the power to do exactly that without limits!! IVE ALWAYS LOVED HOW DURABLE VAMPIRES ARE... sOOOOO WHen you give up so so much of your humanity and when you give up your original face (since you no longer deserve it), what remains? when arthurs appearance went down to zero and i saw how the boys running the show interpreted i was like. underwhelmed. bc like. hes not THAT ugly just like. a lil freaky i guess. i wanted MOREEEE and i was like. okay. what IS gross and scary? is he a monster or are we cowards?? so then i took rot and mold and mushrooms and spores and slithering things that skitter and squirm and said. your humanity kept you closer to life aaaall these years. and without it. the Beast will have more room to grow within the hollowed cells. bc of aaaall his funny lasombra shadow powers, the BEAST manifests as that like. black rot. black centipedes and black fuzz and inky mushrooms. some of them iridescent in the same way a flies carapace glitters w greeens and blues. he is NOT DEAD he is UNDEAD which is SO MUCH more STRANGE and POWERFUL. and though the dead flesh yearns to decay, that BEAST keeps it alive!!!! all in its own monstrous way. ITS ALL TOTALLY BASED OFFA NOTHING BUT MY OWN BEAUTIFUL HEART AND MIND... thank you ssOOO MUCH FOR ENABLING MEEE WEEEEEEE also THANK YOU THANKYOU FOR THE NICE WORDS ABT MY ART THATS SO SWEET OF U TO SAYYY... IM SO GLAD ITS AS UNSETTLING AS I WISHED IT TO BEEEEE also....... feel free to dm me... we gotta swap discords or SOMTHANG

[taco-bacco]

I hope they'll be ok and safe.

If i may also add my two bits though insignificant. This kind of thing is running rampant in all forms of media, social, fandom, ect.

Calling people (who mind you YOU'LL NEVER FUCKING KNOW PERSONALLY ONLINE) anything like a p*doph*le, r*acist, inc*st supporting, you know, things that are EXTREMELY SERIOUS CRIMES when the individuals AREN'T. Do you know how much that diminishes how seriously people will begin to take these accusations eventually??

It throws dirt in the faces of those suffering and who have survived terrible things at the hands of the ACTUAL GODDAMN CRIMINALS.

STOP THROWING VERY SERIOUS ACCUSATIONS AROUND LIKE THEY'RE CANDY

Stop being the boy who cries wolf when there isn't one!! The masses eventually Will stop believing these cries, and then when we cry wolf and there actually IS a wolf, the wolf will get away with their deeds because the words you've minimized to only being buzzwords for aimless meaningless and completely false clout and harassment won't be taken seriously

THIS NEEDS TO STOP

I 100% agree with OP on this

What happened???

Basically, FrukMeRunning (Rayanne) made an Instagram story talking about how it's inherently racist to assume all of the Asian characters in Hetalia are related, specifically mentioned Nichu (JapanxChina) as an example of a ship that she doesn't think is incest.

People saw this post and immediately and incorrectly assumed that she shipped Nichu; because of this, tons of people began sending her hate messages (telling her to commit suicide, calling her a pedophile/incest supporter, etc). Eventually, somebody ended up doxxing her, and she deleted all of her social media accounts.

Once she deleted her accounts, some of the people who had initially attacked her went "Oops! Sorry, turns out she's not a proshipper! My bad!" and began to aggressively market Rayannes Redbubble, assuming that it would be enough to make up for what they did.

I'm usually not one to post about controversies (even when I made a post or two about the infamous blocklist, I ended up deleting them because I don't want my social media accounts to be associated with those things), but this particular case is just so infuriating to me.

Rayanne is an incredible artist and person, and she was wrongfully bullied off of her platforms for LITERALLY NO REASON AT ALL. She didn't even ship Nichu! And even then, let's assume for a minute that she did ship it:

oh my god you guys. who fucking cares

Who fucking cares if someone ships two fictional characters? THEY ARENT REAL. You can't use somebody shipping something you don't like as an excuse to send them death threats? What the fuck is wrong with you guys? How rotted does your brain have to be to make you think thats at okay in any scenario? People were telling her to commit suicide and then acting like they were some sort of hero.

The worst part is that the people who did it to her will face absolutely zero consequences whatsoever. I KNOW they won't, because some of the people who harassed her are making posts on Twitter just saying "Oops, I feel bad! Buy from her Redbubble!", and their followers are replying like "omg it's ok! take care of urself!🥺", completely ignoring the magnitude of what the person did. She got doxxed. Nobody involved in the harassment deserves to be so easily forgiven. This isn't a case of "we accidentally hurt someone's feelings!", it's a case of "we greatly misunderstood and overreacted to a situation and ended up essentially ruining someone's life!".

If any of the people involved in the harrassment are reading this, I say this from the bottom of my heart: truly, sincerely, go fuck yourself. Go outside and realize what it's like to be a rational human being again.

Buy some stickers from Rayanne's Redbubble.

[mikeysbabygirl]

Ken Wakui knew what he was doing when he said Rindou is the second best boyfriend in Tenjiku.

Hear me out, he's all sharp edges, scathing retorts and LITERALLY DISJOINTS PEOPLE'S BONES. But with you... Those sharp edges melt like chocolate during a hot summer day. Before you two started dating, he would throw giant parties, inviting a whole crowd just for the sake of having you in his living room. And from his DJ booth his eyes would not stop crawling back to you, you know just in case someone tries some funny things.

And when you start dating, well he doesn't need those parties anymore. Because you're there, in his bedroom, even, and he's making you listen to the mix he made thinking about you ( but you would never know that). And he stopped going to school, but the path to that highschool knew his feet each and everyday. And Rindou is a hothead, drinking the risk at its roots, but still makes sure you wear his helmet perfectly before taking you on a ride on his bike.

Rindou's the type of boyfriend to spend money like there's no tomorrow, but the only time of the year when he saves some in when your birthday's near, his best girl deserves the prettiest, shiniest, newest golden necklace around her neck.

Yes, Wakui, you're right, Rindou's such a good boyfrien-

-" Look at you, such a fuckin' slut f'me "

Oh... Yeah aha aha... 👉👈

Human's nature is a second skin, and maybe the rough edges were just covered underneath some cotton candy dreams. Because the night comes, the light leaves, and the purple eyes of Rindou turn indigo under the desire, seeing you in your lingerie all waiting on his bed. Shit, the door wasn't even locked, Ran could've walked in, any of his friend's could've walked in. This thought makes his blood boil.

-" you like it when I fuck you like this, don't you ?"

At some point, everything hurts, the ties around your wrists tying you to his bed, his hand squeezing around your throat, his relentless thrusts abusing your poor pussy like it owned him some money, but again, pain and pleasure come from the same root and you've lost count on how many times you've came around him.

-" Fucking answer me. " His hand around your throat tightened, making your mouth form a perfect O shape. " You like it when my cock's ruining this tight pussy ? "

-" Rin'... Don't... Please don't make me say it !"

Shame laced orgasms were waiting at your door, but he likes it, the idea of corrupting you, you in your short pink skirts and your perfect girl's next door reputation.

-" Oh yeah you do. Baby loves being stuffed like... Shit, like my pretty little whore "

Another harsh thrust of him would have you arching your back, and his other hand would pull your hair back to have you looking at him.

-" Keep those fucking addicting eyes o'mme. Fuck, babe. Can't ya see how this pussy's hugging me ? You're such a slut for me... Only me, yeah ?"

His hand squeezes tighter around your throat, bringing your attention back to him.

-" This " you cried as his finger tapped over your over stimulated cunt. "Sweet thing's only for daddy's cock, hm ?"

Animalistic thrusts, ragging breaths, soul devouring desire, all until you're coming undone under him, and your fucked up face is enough. He barely has the time to withdraw before his cum is all over your breasts, some even reaching the necklace wearing his name around your neck.

Rindou reaches for his phone on the nightstand, while his other finger shoves some of his seeds in your mouth, barely leaving you anytime to protest.

-" Smile f'me, lemme keep your pretty face for when I miss the fuckin' love o'mma life. "

Yes, yes Ken Wakui, you're right. Rindou is the perfect boyfriend.

Keeping the picture of his girlfriend, tied to his bed, coated in his cum, finger shoved deep in her mouth as a lock screen.

[itsnsfwalways]

Edge Of My Seat

warnings: female reader, mean dom! mgg, degradation (like.... really intense humiliation and ownership talk), slight daddy kink, exhibitionism, overstimulation, choking, squirting, deep subspace, branding (oops), fluffy aftercare (quite a bit of tears oops again)...... i think that’s everything. good luck.

prompt from the lovely @slutforthegubes / @spencersbed (literally one of my favs): i was thinking maybe a fic where you and him are out with the cast but you keep teasing him. when he almost cums his pants is when he decides enough is enough. he makes up an excuse for y’all to leave. the whole car ride home he edges you. once y’all get him he takes you over his knee and spanks you. after he deems fit, he overstimulates you and makes you beg for him to fuck you. when he does finally fuck he absolutely rails you. afterwards he gives you aftercare. he puts lotion on any marks, cleans you up, cuddles you and makes sure you are okay.

A/N: the fact that this has taken me a month to write..... i’m so sorry bre LMAO. i hope you enjoy and that it hits all the right spots !

See, it wasn’t necessarily your fault that you were riled up. Matthew didn’t touch you once this morning, besides a few kisses and your morning cuddles, of course, but no funny business whatsoever! You knew that you were meeting the crew for lunch later today, and made it your mission today to show him what he’s missing.

“Come on, baby, right here,” he whispers to you, touching your waist as if you were a flower ready to break while he guides you into the table, sitting next to you and immediately putting a hand on your thigh, unable to go a few minutes without any physical contact.

A whimper almost escapes your throat at the touch, so worked up over, what, not getting off before noon? God, who have you turned into? Shaking your head from side to side to clear your thoughts, you turn your attention over to Matthew, who’s already ordering you two drinks, his left hand moving in the air as he speaks to the waitress while his right thumb continues to rub small circles into your thigh. Your eyes zero in on his gorgeous hands, because, wow. His long, skillful fingers didn’t even have to be near you and you turned into a sex-deprived slut around him, only wanting one thing.

You turn your body more towards Matthew, sliding your hand under his shirt to rub his back while your other sneaks around the front, softly tracing over his stomach. He hums, glancing over to you before squeezing your thigh, thinking you just wanted some affection right now, but his eyes harden when he feels you trace his happy trail, just barely touching the skin but it’s enough to make him inhale sharply, covering it up with a cough.

“What are you doing?” Matthew lowly asks, his nails beginning to dig into your thigh, sending goosebumps down your arms in excitement. You shrug, slowly bringing a finger down to trace across his hip, going across his inner thigh to ghost across his growing bulge. You do your best to cover up the smirk crawling on your face but you catch Adam’s eye when you look away, blushing when he says loudly, “Hey! What kinda funny business are you two doing?”

“You wish, Rodriguez,” you laugh, placing your hand on top of Matthew’s bulge and looking back to him, raising your eyebrows to see if he’s okay with it. And of course he is, but you were breaking the rules, and you knew he was going to make you pay for it when you got back. Perfect.

Palming him slowly, you watch as he stutters his way through ordering for the both of you, knowing you’ll be able to see the indents from his fingernails for at least a day with how hard he’s gripping you. You hand your menu over to him with a completely innocent look on your face, and can feel him twitch underneath you when he takes it with clenched teeth, handing it over to the waitress with a tight, “thanks.” Sweeping a hand through his hair, he moves his eyes over to you, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Better stop now, little girl. You’re already in for a punishment for being such a greedy mess while I’m trying to enjoy lunch, don’t want to make it worse by continuing it, hmm?” When he pulls back, you bite your lip to attempt to contain your smile as you shake your head slowly back and forth, beginning to unzip his pants extremely slowly, not breaking eye contact with him. His bottom lip finds itself between his teeth as he stares down at you, not being able to smack your inner thigh because he was literally right across from his friends, and more importantly, his coworkers.

He lets go of your leg finally, grabbing his glass and gripping it with more force than necessary, his blood boiling at the sheer disobedience you were showing him. Deciding the best option for him would be to ignore you, he begins talking to AJ about something random, you honestly could care less, but decide two can play at this game. Tracing him through his underwear, his cock very distinguishable, you turn your attention to Paget, noticing Matthew’s eyes flit to yours when you begin speaking.

“Thank you for those flowers you sent us the other day, I meant to have him tell you,” gesturing to Matthew, squeezing him harshly through the fabric at the same time, “They were gorgeous, have them as our kitchen centerpiece now.” Paget laughs with you, taking a sip from her glass.

“Of course! I’m glad you like them. It feels like forever since I’ve seen your pretty face, your man likes to hide you quite a bit you know,” she points, squinting her eyes at Matthew, who just shrugs, looking briefly over at you. “You need to bring her out to hang with us more, I’m getting bored of just you.”

You laugh out loud at this, but catch yourself before you can really start digging your own grave. You watch him roll his eyes, fake laughing which sends Paget into another fit of giggles, while you just continue to pet him through his clothes, not stopping as the food is dropped off in front of you, Matthew sending the waitress a tight lipped smile as he shoves a bite of food in his mouth, giving him an excuse to groan deeply, the sound going straight to your clit. He refuses to make eye contact with you as he mumbles out, “This food is so good,” not even acknowledging your hand on top of him. Alright, fine.

Your hand finally wraps around his cock, pulling him out of his underwear and watching with a small grin as his lips part and he takes a slow breath out while staring down at his food. Feeling him twitch in your hand, you take it as a sign to begin slowly pumping up and down, taking your time to swipe your thumb across his tip everytime you reach the top. One hand snaps down to meet your thigh under the tablecloth, squeezing hard enough that his fingertips go white from the pressure, while the other moves down his face to hide his mouth, eyes darting across the table.

“Hey, Matthew, did you ever get that script I sent over your way? What did you think of it?” Paget asks, both yours and Matthew’s heads snapping her direction. You turn back to look at him, eyes twinkling with mischief as you put a fake innocent look on your face.

“Oh? I never heard about a script, what’s it about, babe?” You ask sweetly, biting your tongue between your teeth to keep from laughing at his reaction when you squeeze the base of him and he jumps up. His eyes flash dangerously towards you and you feel his nails dig into your thigh before he clears his throat to answer.

“Yeah, I-I did look it over, the Horse Girl one, yeah?” Matthew stutters, turning his head back to Paget and running a hand through his hair. She nods and you make eye contact with her, winking before moving your attention back to Matthew, who, unsurprisingly, refused to look back at you.

“I think it might be a good... a good fit,” he pauses in between his words, eyes slipping shut for only a moment, which fed your ego nicely. “Should be easy to just be an idol of someone, plus my only ‘big’ scene would be having sex with her, so,” he shrugs, picking up his glass to take a swig as your hand stops its movements. Paget’s eyes meet yours and you can tell she’s just as confused as you are by his statement.

“Alright, player, not in front of your lady,” Shemar laughs, gesturing to you and sending Matthew a questioning look. You turn your head back to him and begin pumping him again, much faster this time.

“Ouch,” you say plainly, swiping your thumb over his tip to collect some of the precum gathered there. Slowly bringing it back to your lips, you nonchalantly suck it into your mouth, not breaking eye contact as Matthew’s hips buck up into the air. His lips part, eyebrows raising as he grows even harder, watching your wet thumb slide out of your mouth seductively. His jaw tightens, a vein popping out in his neck when he brings his arm around you, pulling you closer next to him and making it look as if he’s kissing your head to apologize. His tight voice sends shivers down your spine when he whispers,

“If you don’t stop right fucking now, Y/N, I swear to god, I’m going to bruise you purple.”

Pulling away, he watches through clenched teeth as you return your hand to his cock, leaning up to ‘kiss his jaw’, but really muttering, “That a promise or a threat, sir?”, squeezing hard around his base. Your other hand moves to go underneath his shirt, scratching your nails down his back.

Matthew let’s out a harsh cough at that, licking his lips before pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, and biting, his hand slipping to your waist to pinch the skin there. Pulling your bottom lip into your mouth, you move your attention to your food as you begin to pump your hand faster, trying as hard as you can not to move your shoulder and give the two of you away.

Matthew grips onto your side harshly, squeezing the extra pudge on your body in his hands so roughly you know you’ll have bruises tomorrow. His spine was tingling, with pleasure, anger, frustration, and frankly, complete shock. He knew you were far from innocent, but exhibition was normally his thing.

Feeling him beginning to pulse in your hand, you start to speed up your hand once more before it’s completely ripped away from his lap, and you watch with a smirk as he stuffs himself back inside his pants, the veins in his shaking hands prominent from how tightly he’s had them in fists or grabbing you.

“Guys, I’m so sorry, there’s an emergency at home that Y/N and I have to go take care of, I hate to leave but we need to go, now,” Matthew stands up, taking your jacket off your seat and directing his last words towards you, nostrils flared in anger as he manages to keep a smile in his face. You try to suppress your grin as you stand up, waving goodbye to everyone quickly as Matthew grabs your wrist and pulls you away.

“Sorry guys, someone’s a little frustrated today,” you call out to them, your laugh being cut short by a sharp gasp when Matthew digs his nails into the inside of your wrist. He definitely shouldn’t be playing with you like this in public but, fuck, you always had to cross the line didn’t you. As soon as you’re out of everyone’s vision, he places a strong hand on the back of your neck, similarly to how you’d pick up a kitten by their scruff.

“You are so fucking lucky we are in public and with my goddamn friends right now or you would be bent over that table in two seconds. Who the fuck do you think you are, almost making me cum where you could be photographed and the whole world would know my girl is a fucking misbehaving cockslut. How embarrassing would that be for me?” You suck in a sharp breath of air at his words, barely registering you’ve made it to the car before he’s ushering you inside, shutting the door behind you and making his way to the drivers seat. Buckling your seatbelt slowly, you begin to rethink everything you did tonight, maybe you went a bit too far. Trying to gain any brownie points, you whisper out, “I’m sorry, sir,” but this just sets him off even more.

His fingers tighten against the wheel as he pulls out of the parking spot, refusing to make eye contact with you. The truth is, he was so fucking close and one move could have him cumming in his pants. But he decides to have a little fun with you instead, after all, you were still being a naughty little girl just asking to be punished. His hand reaches down to grip your inner thigh, fingers pressing into the skin harshly, light scratches coming from his nails digging into your skin. “I think you’re sorry you didn’t get to see me finish, but my good girl would never do something like that, you know who would though?” He pauses to smack your thigh once, quickly, before massaging the reddened area afterwards. You clear your throat before muttering out, a soft, “who?”

“A filthy whore would. But you’re not a filthy whore, are you? Are you, Y/N?” He pushes, smacking your inner thigh once more. You try to clench your legs together but Matthew pulls them apart quickly, gasping when his nimble fingers tug your thong down your legs, lifting your butt up to allow him to slide it off of you. He bunches the fabric up in his hands, and you can’t even start to answer his question before the lacy underwear is pushed into your mouth. He finally looks over at you, your wide eyes staring back at him while you force your hands to stay at your sides, feeling the way his fingers trace shapes along your thigh. “Since you don’t want to answer, I guess you are, which is such a shame. Here I was thinking I could let you cum, but if you’re just here for my pleasure,” he pauses to tut at your whine of protest, “I’ll just use you for me. Spread your legs.”

The harsh command parts your legs instantly, your pussy clenching around nothing but the cool breeze that hits it when your skirt shifts up your leg. You watch as Matthew slips his middle two fingers into his mouth, eyes focused on the road as he wets the digits. He pulls them out after a few seconds, leaving the trail of spit connecting his lips to his fingers as he leans forward to spit harshly onto them, bringing his dripping hand over the center console to land directly on your pussy. His fingers immediately move to collect your wetness before beginning to massage very slow circles around your clit, not allowing you to have him where you really want him.

“Listen closely, you fucking slut,” Matthew spits, glancing over for only a second to make sure you’re looking at him- as if you could be looking at anything else. “You’re not going to cum until I tell you to. I don’t want to feel you fluttering around me, no squeezing my digits, because that means that I would be pleasing you, correct?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth with furrowed eyebrows, nodding slowly and attempting to say, “Y-yes, sir,” but your words come out garbled from the makeshift gag. Matthew’s middle finger trails down to trace your weeping hole, tapping lightly on the wetness surrounding his favorite place.

“I’m not here to please you, stupid girl. I’m not here for you to play with, I’m not here for you to toy with, and I’m definitely not here to give filthy whores what they want. Have I made myself clear, or does my dumb little cockslut need to learn her place?”

Chills run down your body at his words and you can’t help the whimper that comes out, having to tighten your hands in fists to stop yourself from clenching, knowing that he’d be able to feel it. Your head tilts to the side to look out the tinted window, hearing Matthew laugh at your reaction, before feeling his finger slip barely inside you, shallowly fucking you so it only just passes his first knuckle.

You sharply inhale through your nose when a second finger breeches you, the two fingers beginning to massage the inside of you, rubbing against that one spot that has your legs shaking. You hum loudly, letting Matthew know that you’re close, but he only speeds up his digits, moving his thumb to rub circles against your clit, the sudden pleasure causing you to clench tightly around him. You can’t even begin to think of what you did wrong before his fingers are out of you and inside his mouth, sucking them deep into his throat to clean them of you, ignoring the harsh exhale you let out. He finally turns to you, laughing at the redness in your cheeks before taking out the panties from your mouth, slipping them into his pocket before he yanks you towards him by your throat, releasing it to slide his still-damp fingers past your lips. You do your best to give his fingers the best treatment you could, sucking them deep into your mouth while tracing your tongue in between them, your stomach swirling with need.

He finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth and doesn’t give you anytime to catch your breath before your back is pinned to your seat and his hand is between your legs once more, slipping inside you easily and only curling faster into your g-spot when you moan loudly, your back arching against the arm on your chest, whining when his thumb returns to your clit, so on edge from this morning. He starts off by making small circles directly on your sensitive bud, ignoring your whining, before pulling his hand back and smacking your dripping sex, a loud moan filling the car.

“Tell me what you’re not going to do,” he demands, two fingers returning inside of you and immediately going to work while you try and think. Your mouth opens and closes as Matthew brings you closer and closer to the edge, watching you stay silent while your legs begin to shake. You gasp out, “Not going to c-cum, not going to,” clenching your fists as you interrupt your words with a sharp whine, unable to keep yourself from pulsing around him.

You almost shout ‘no!’ when he pulls his fingers out of you, but you aren’t even able to catch your breath before he’s going back and forth on your clit, watching you with his lips between his teeth as your breath stutters and your eyes roll into the back of your head, a pathetic, “please,” falling from your mouth. Matthew chuckles, moving his fingers to pinch your clit harshly.

“Who does this pretty pussy belong to? Remind me, darling.”

His even tone sends shivers down your spine as you pant out, “You, sir. It’s yours.” He hums, beginning his slow, circular movements once more. “That’s right. It’s mine, which means what? That I’m the one who controls when, and if, you ever come. I’m the one who decides what you receive, what you deserve, and when you deserve it. Do I need to repeat myself or does my dumb puppy understand?”

Your body thrashes in your seat as you nod quickly, trying to hold back as best you can. “Yours, yours, yours, yours, yours,” you repeat over and over, catching Matthew’s attention when he turns his head over to look at you. Pulling his fingers away from you, he places them in your mouth once more, his eyes moving back and forth between the road and your pretty face, tears already glistening in your eyes.

Removing them finally, he pats the side of your face twice, wipes his hand on his pant leg, and returns it back to the wheel, completely ignoring the panting girl in his passenger seat. He sniffs, trying to hide his grin as he asks, “You green, little love?” You nod immediately and repeat the color back to him, shifting in your seat, but stopping as soon as a hand clamps down on your thigh, pulling them apart. “You keep those there and shut the fuck up til we get home. I’ll deal with you then.”

It feels like forever til the car pulls into the driveway with a harsh stop, causing the seatbelt to dig into your neck slightly. Matthew scoffs when he notices you swallow and take a deep breath, mumbling out, “God, you’re pathetic, even my driving turns you on.” He runs a hand through his hair quickly, turning to you when you haven’t moved, nerves fizzing all throughout your body. “Out. Run along inside, little girl.” His voice dropped to a low, sturdy tone and sent a chill down your back, his eyes scarily calm as he stares you down. With shaky hands, you exit the car, rushing up the stone steps quickly while you mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to experience. The click of the door unlocking barely even registers when you here the familiar sound of the car door shutting, sending a rush of adrenaline through you. Toeing your shoes off at the door, you rush up the steps into the bedroom, almost feeling as if you’re being chased by a scary monster. Which, in a way, you kind of were.

You were just finishing hanging up your coat when Matthew walked inside the bedroom, leather shoes still on which you can’t help but lick your lips at. He just looked too good in them, mixed with the pale pink button up he put on this morning, his appearance alone was enough to send shivers down your spine. The expression he gives you let’s you know how much trouble you’re in, nothing but a simple smirk on his face while he methodically rolls up his sleeves. He motions you over with two fingers when he takes a seat on the chest at the end of your bed, which, to guests, looked fairly normal. You had come to learn, however, it served one purpose and one purpose only: the perfect place for him to sit while he spanked the living shit out of you. Hesitant steps brings you to stand in front of him, almost eye level with him when he takes your hips in his hands to force your body in between his spread legs. The silence in the air cuts through your body like a knife while he slowly unzips your skirt, watching as the fabric drops to the floor before glancing up at you. “Such a shame you couldn’t be good enough to keep your pretty little thong on until we got home,” he tuts, pulling the lacy black fabric from his front pocket to twirl it around in the air. Your face burns from the movement and he grins, hair wild around him making him look almost feral. Unhinged.

The underwear suddenly flies off of his finger and lands somewhere in the room, forcing your vision back up to his eyes. He reaches up with one hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, using it as an excuse to grip the back of your head with his fingers and yank you closer to him. A gasp is pulled from your lungs when Matthew tilts your head back, forcing your eyes to the ceiling so he can start biting down your neck. His teeth follow the artery down the side of your throat, pinching it just hard enough to make your pulse spike and he’s able to feel it on his tongue, the throbbing sensation going straight to his cock. He pulls away just for a second to murmur delicately in your ear, “Do you know how badly you’re about to get it, you filthy, fucking brat? I’m about to destroy you.” His words fall from his lips like honey, swirling around your head and leaving you basking in the gentle, sing-song voice he uses with only you that you don’t even notice when he pulls away until he forces your chin down to look at him. Matthew smiles gently, very gently, at the way your eyes remained unfocused for a second, because he was going to enjoy this, enjoy you. Chills pop up on your skin when your brain finally realizes what he just said to you, mixed with how nice he was being right now. This was the calm before the storm.

Your eyes meet his finally and he purses his lips at you minutely, squinting his eyes as he studies your face. You have half a mind to try and apologize but when your lips part, no words can fall out because you know, you know there is no going back. It’s almost like he knows what you’re thinking when he asks you softly, “You’ll use your colors when you need them, yes?” And waits for you to nod and mumble out, “yes, sir,” while looking down at his lips. He leans in closer to you, stopping an inch away from your parted mouth to ask, “And what are they, sweet girl? Why don’t you remind me?” You have to shut your eyes to breathe for a second and Matthew allows you to have this time for yourself right now, knowing how rough he’s about to be. “G-green, yellow, red, sir. I know em, I’ll use em,” you sigh out, leaning your forehead against his to ground yourself.

“Mmm, that’s a good girl. Why don’t you lay yourself over my lap for me then? Think you can manage?” He hums, the vibration from his throat mixed with his breathy whisper makes it impossible for you to not obey his every command, obediently turning your body to lay across his lap, head resting on his thigh while your feet hold you lightly on the floor for now. You know that they will be limp by the end of this, but you can at least try to have some dignity in the beginning. Matthew stops your thoughts quickly by starting to massage your ass, starting with the left cheek before moving onto the right, alternating between harsh, pointed grips underneath his fingers and soft, slow circles with his palm. “Normally, I would make you tell me everything you did wrong here, ask how many you think you deserve, that sound about right?” He questions, nails digging in to scratch the skin around your hips. You whimper in the back of your throat and squeeze your eyes shut, breathing out, “yes, sir,” to appease him. Matthew hums, moving his hands down to scratch at the back of your thighs, the sensitive skin causing you to suck in a harsh breath of air. You press your forehead deeper into his thigh at his next words, choking on a gasp.

“See, Y/N, I just don’t think you deserve that. You wanted to be a nasty whore in front of all of my friends, so why should I give you that common courtesy when you’re just a little slut?” He punctuates the end of his question with a harsh slap, the pinky ring he put on today biting into the skin of your ass. You barely have time to apologize before he slaps you again, this time on the other side. His other arm reaches for your neck, holding the back of it similarly to a scolded child, tightening his grip when he shouts, “Answer me!” and spanks you once more. The pain bites through you like you fell on ice and Matthew revels in the high pitched whine that rings throughout the room. “You shouldn’t, sir, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please, just punish me,” you cry out, pressing wet kisses to his thigh.

Fuck, Matthew liked hearing that and tilted his head back, biting his lip, the rush of power that ran through him at your words had his hands shaking. He feels you choke out a cough around his hand and releases your neck from the tight grip he had it in. He sniffs, running a finger lightly down your spine. “I’d apologize for that but I just don’t really care,” and you can sense the grin on his face when he spanks you once more and has you moaning against his leg.

The feeling is beyond words, the stinging sensation not even pain at this point but pleasure, it feels like every spank is bringing you closer and closer. Matthew’s pant leg has to be soaked by now from your drooling mouth but you don’t even notice, only letting out rough gasps or ‘thank you, sir’. Suddenly, you feel a smack on your upper thigh, and, without even thinking, reach a hand down to cover your skin.

Before you could even blink, Matthew had grabbed your waist, placed you sitting on the wooden chest, and was walking towards the closet, not speaking a word to you. Grateful for the break, you brace yourself with your hands on the chest and try and get yourself back to Earth, wiping the drool off your chin with a grimace. You can feel your sticky, shaking thighs and ass burn from the direct contact but your face burns even brighter when you feel the wood below you become damp from your dripping center. You couldn’t remember how many spanks you had gotten at this point, your head was starting to get hazy and your body was on fire, needing Matthew’s touch. Your head snaps up when the clicks of Matthew’s shoes grow louder and your stomach drops when you see the metal handcuffs in his hands, no change in the calm manner he’s presenting. A rush of heat goes through you when you see the damp circle on his thigh from your mouthing at him. He squats down in front of you to bring the handcuffs up, gliding the cool metal down your face while watching every small change your facial muscles make. A chuckle comes from the back of his throat suddenly and you look up to say a small prayer before looking back at him, watching as he taps the cuff to your bottom lip. “You’re real brave for trying that one, Y/N. I mean,” he pauses to shake his head from side to side, laughing harder when he sees your thighs clench. “You just can’t help yourself, you stupid, stupid girl,” and then your face burns and your core burns and Matthew grabs your face in his hands and forces your eyes onto his.

“Ask me again.” He sounds desperate for it, need filling his quick plea and your mouth drops in his grip, wide doe eyes looking at him. He shakes his head, drawing his lips into his mouth for a moment before tilting his chin up at you. “Ask me to hit your pretty little face again.” He whispers this last part onto your lips, just barely allowing his bottom lip to skim yours before he pulls back to watch the way your eyes slip close and a soft ‘please’ escapes you without hesitation.

The control he had over you was a funny thing, it wasn’t that he had you on a leash, metaphorically, it was you that had him chained and owned. You owned him and he was thrilled to be able to show you just how much he appreciated that. His hand leaves your face slowly and you open your eyes immediately to watch him stand, his prominent bulge now inches from your face. “You can do better than that. Beg for me. Now.” His voice grows dark and he grits his teeth together, unimpressed with your whine. You swallow, looking up at him incredulously before managing to spit out, “Please, I’m so sorry, sir, please hit me. I want you to slap me til I beg you to stop, please, sir.” Matthew watches as your eyes grow glossy with unshed tears and your lungs have you panting for air before you see his hand pull back a ways. You close your eyes in anticipation, lips turning into a sedated smile while you wait for the slap.

The rush of adrenaline never comes and your eyebrows crease in confusion before you open your eyes to see Matthew smirking at you, arms folded in front of him, metal cuffs swinging back and forth in his hand. “You didn’t think I was going to give you what you wanted, did you? Cute performance, though, seems I’ve taught you well. A good little actress you are,” he pauses to laugh at your pouting face before unlocking the handcuffs, not even acknowledging the shocked gasp you release at his words. When you’re still sitting in front of him seconds later, he rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers at you, “Up, now. God, Y/N, do you ever listen?” He sounds annoyed with you, your mind tells you, and your body scrambles to appease him, jumping up so fast you almost fall. His hands catch your shoulders easily, it was second nature at this point, before he spun you to face away from him, forcing your arms parallel behind your back to click the cuffs into place on your wrists. With each touch, his fingers leave behind trails of fire on your skin, and you revel in the hidden gentleness behind each rough touch he allows you to have. Matthew gives your top arm a tug and hums contently when you stumble backwards into his chest, moving your body like a ragdoll back onto his lap, being careful to make sure your neck doesn’t slam down on his thigh. Your fingers grip your arms as you test your mobility, which was, not much to say the least. Matthew’s left hand resumes massaging your ass, and your face snaps back to him when you feel it. How did you not notice it when he first walked out?

Adorned on his middle three fingers were three large silver rings with his initials on them, reading out ‘MGG’ in a bold font. They were something he didn’t wear too often, but when he did, God. He liked to wear them so the letters were facing his palm, and allowed for each spank to mark his initials into you, to claim you as his. Matthew meets your eyes and grins, moving your head to face the floor slowly by taking your chin in his hand and turning it slowly, not breaking eye contact until you’re physically unable to keep looking at him. His hand goes down to tug at the chain between your wrists, lifting them up just enough to put a strain on your shoulders before letting them fall harshly onto your lower back. “Too bad you’re all chained up. Can’t even say no to me branding you, can you? Cuz you like it, you filthy girl,” he teases, finally smacking your ass twice in a row, a light one to warm you up to the metal first before actually allowing himself to let go. You squeeze your eyes closed and let out an almost laugh at the sensation, the feeling completely different. This was painful, and Matthew knew it, which was why he forced your eyes down. He didn’t want you to know when it was coming, to give you time to prepare. You deserved to be punished and he had no problem dishing that out.

A particularly harsh smack rips a moan from your throat and your legs start shaking, you had to be absolutely dripping on him at this point. “Please, sir, oh my god, please,” you cry out, unable to catch your breath when the next one comes, another moan falling from you. Matthew pauses when he feels you choke on a breath, instead going to trace over the quickly forming marks on your backside while he lets you catch your breath. “What are you begging for this time, Y/N, hm? I know my dirty slut isn’t asking to cum, not after being so disobedient today.” The feeling of him writing his initials over and over into your skin mixed with knowing that they will bruise by tomorrow causes you to squeeze your legs together to push off your orgasm, wanting to be good for him.

“I-I’m trying, Sir,” you gasp out, wrists tugging at the restraints. You rest your forehead harshly on his thigh, trying to focus on your breathing when you hear the slap before feeling it. Matthew starts again, hitting you quickly three times in a row, moving his hand to slip his thumb into your open, panting mouth. You suck his finger deep into your mouth, grateful for it, but Matthew has other plans, deciding to hook your cheek and turn your head to lay on his leg, your face dripping mascara when you make eye contact with him. The curls around his face stick to him with sweat, his eyes blazing and lips a dark cherry color, likely to his obsessive biting. His eyebrows raise in a condescending manner, eyes flickering to the wet patch you’ve made on both of his legs now before examining the handiwork he made on your ass. He rests his hand to thumb over the indents, clicking his tongue when you hiss from his actions. “Color?” He simply says, spinning the M ring around with his thumb. You whimper out, “Green,” trying unsuccessfully to stop your hips from bucking up.

He looks unimpressed at your actions, eyebrows raised when he lifts you up so your wet core is pressed to him, you legs straddling his thigh. You try to lift yourself up for a second but Matthew holds you down harshly, ignoring the small, “Sir,” you whisper out from how close you are. He ignores you and begins to slide your hips back and forth on his thigh, spreading your wetness around onto him. Your eyes are wide when he flexes his leg to meet your clit perfectly, whimpers falling from your mouths like prayers. “G-Gonna cum,” you cry out, holding your elbows behind you as your stomach tightens and your legs begin to shake. Matthew shakes his head in front of you, tsking lightly before reminding you, “That’s not how we ask,” and continuing to grip your hips and have you grind on his thigh, leaning forward to bite at your neck and darken some of the marks he left there before. You whine deep in your throat and open your mouth, tongue falling out when Matthew pulls back to look at you. “Please, can I cum, sir?” You whimper, hair sticking to your forehead when you tilt your head back to try and hold it off. Immediately, a hand is wrapped around your bared throat and tugs you closer to him, pulling and pushing you by your throat rather than your hips as his other hand moves to grip your ass in his hand, smacking it once. “No. You can’t,” he commands, stopping his movements and holding your hips down so you’re unable to move on your own. Matthew watches with a mock sympathetic expression at your creased eyebrows and open mouth, a sad cry leaving it which he can’t help but roll his eyes at.

Tucking his thumb into your mouth, he pulls your mouth open and leans forward slightly, the feeling of him spitting onto your tongue from behind your closed eyes is enough to make you drop your head forward onto his shoulder. Matthew doesn’t allow this to happen of course, instead lifting you up onto his other thigh, his grip on your hips not releasing when he begins forcing you to start grinding on him again. You hiss at the stimulation so quickly after you were that close but say nothing, he can tell in your wide eyes that you not only know you deserve this, but you want it. “Got to make my thighs even, yeah? Can’t have a mess on one leg and not the other.” Your eyes move to the thigh you just rode, bottom lip finding itself between your teeth at the large wet patch left behind, glistening in the light. Moving your head back to make eye contact with him, you whimper from the nonstop pace he had set, getting closer to the edge than you thought was possible. “S-Sir, I can’t,” you stress, a clinking sound ringing behind you as you try and move your hands, groaning when they don’t budge.

“Someone’s a little frustrated it looks like, too bad your hands are tied, bet they’d be tugging on my hair like a proper whore,” he finishes this with a harsh tug on your own, pulling you backwards so he can see all of you. Your eyes slip closed and you curse at yourself for being so bold earlier, what the fuck were you thinking. A harsh ripping sound forces your eyes back open and you see your shirt fall off your body, mouth dropped open as you watch his hand immediately move to slap your left tit, moving to pinch your nipple harshly. He looks up at you, a smug expression on his face when he shrugs, gathering the pieces in his hand to toss aside. “It was in the way, I don’t know why you were still wearing it.”

It adds a new element, the fact that you were stark naked in front of him and he was fully clothed, wearing a button up and those tight black pants that squeeze his thighs so well. You buck your hips up in his hand when you start thinking deeper at the power that he just exuded effortlessly, how he didn’t even need to try and you gave yourself to him. “Sir,” you whine out, a tear slipping from your eye in frustration when you feel your toes curling. He gathers your face in one hand with a soft smile, wiping the tear with his thumb before slipping it into your mouth, knowing your body better than you do as the action calms you more than you thought was possible. He leans forward to ghost over your cheekbone lightly with his lips, murmuring, “I don’t really care that you want to cum, darling, it’s not about you, is it?” into your temple, before pulling back. You shake your head, mewling when he slips his thumb out of your mouth and smacks you harshly against the face, lifting your legs up at the exact moment that would have sent you over the edge.

“Fuck,” you cry out, gasping at the slap and trying to stop your hips from bucking up in his grasp. Pulling your lips back into a smile, you blow the hair out of your face before looking up at him. Alright, so you weren’t going to come for a while, if at all, tonight. That also means that he’s going to be spending a lot of attention bringing you to that edge. Good enough. You watch as Matthew tries to figure out what has you smiling, fingers gripping your hips harsher to make you bite your lip to suppress a whimper. Standing up slowly, he moves you to kneel in front of him, forcing your head down with his hand on the back of your neck. He pets your head for a second, running his fingers through your hair gently.

“What’s got you so smiley, puppy?” The nickname he spits out at you sends a rush to your core and you whine at the way it makes you feel, like you’re so small and he’s so big, and god, is this a lot. “T-thought about your attention on me, Sir. Like it,” you moan out, pulling on your restraints and huffing when they don’t move. Matthew’s fingers tighten in your hair, and you feel the cool leather of his shoe sliding up your thigh. Your lips part as you realize where this is going and you can’t lie at how much you want it.

“Yeah, I got a bit of an attention whore as a pet, didn’t I? A tragedy, really, could’ve had you coming three times by now, but, you wanted to be a brat, so my hands are tied,” he comments, talking about you as if you were just a plaything to him. Your core throbbed when you felt the toe of his boot run along it, sliding underneath you so you rested directly on top of it. Matthew’s hand in your hair kept your head facing the floor as he continued. “It’s like you’re just too dumb to do anything unless I tell you exactly how to, you’re just a needy little thing who wants to cum, that’s all you are.” His degrading words mixed with the thrill of riding his fucking shoe rips a sob from your chest, a mess of “please, sir” and “yes” coming from you. He lifts your head up to get a look at your eyes before continuing on. “I’ll make this real easy for you, okay? Yes? Use your words,” He slips his thumb into your mouth and mocks you when you try and speak while your lips wrap around him, laughing when you whine and buck against his boot. He tilts your head up as says slowly, “You’re going to stand up, let me undo the cuffs, and get onto the bed. Then, I’m going to join you and you aren’t going to touch me once, okay? Got to train you somehow.”

Your cheeks burn at his last statement, whispering out, ‘fuck’, before shakily standing up, with his help of course, and turn around silently to let him undo the restraints. You hear them clink before you’re released, Matthew’s hands massaging each wrist for a few seconds before returning them to your side. You roll your shoulders once before moving onto the bed without another word, staring up at the ceiling as Matthew disappears back into the closet. Finally resting your head back onto the pillows, you attempt to shake out the tremors in your legs, whimpering at the cool air on your wetness. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, matching the throbbing in your core and you can’t help but whine in desperation.

Matthew returns shortly after, wearing just his briefs and his button up, shoes and pants left behind. You feel him place something next to your feet on the bed but before your head can turn his fingers are on your chin, making it impossible for you to move. He meets your parted lips with a quick kiss, smiling when he pulls away to rub your cheek with his hand.

Pulling his hand back, he slaps you across the face once, relishing in the harsh gasp he rips from you as your head turns to the side. His fingers move back to squish your cheeks together, his lips pursed as he studies your frame. Your voice shakes when you whimper out a pathetic, “please,” but Matthew just scoffs.

“Please,” he mocks, your spine burning white hot from the humiliation. “Didn’t bring you up here to beg, especially that badly, Y/N, I’m disappointed.”

You can’t help the whimper that escapes as he tuts quietly to himself, shaking his head from side to side. His index finger moves from its place on your cheek to slip slowly between your lips, a chill spreading through Matthew as he feels your breath shake on his hand. He pulls it out suddenly, not giving you time to process before he spits down your throat, your eyes rolling back into your head on instinct.

“Getting too mouthy for my liking. Can you learn your place and shut the fuck up, little girl?” He scolds, angry eyes burning into yours while keeping his tone even. You nod automatically, licking your lips once before pressing them together, catching Matthew’s eyes drifting to watch you. He moves his fingers to trail lightly down your neck, brushing over your collarbone before going further down your body. You hear him chuckle to himself when you place your hands under your back, not trusting yourself enough to keep your hands away from him. His eyes look back to yours for a second before he grabs your nipple between his thumb and first two fingers, trailing the hard nub around them. His touch is gentler than you expected, your eyebrows pinched together when he moves to your other nipple, the fact that he was just playing with them right now was not like him.

“Not enough for you, hmm?” Matthew quips, bringing his fingers to travel down over your stomach, your breath hitching when he caresses both of his thumbs over your pelvis, pressing down just enough for you to let out a whimper, the tight knot in your stomach begging to be released.

“I think,” Matthew starts, completely pulling away from you to grab one of the items he put next to you. You debate turning your head to see but you know that the outcome would probably not be in your favor. Matthew’s hands come back into your eyesight and your mouth drops a little at what’s in his hands, a flogger with many leather strips hanging from the handle.

“Mm, you excited, puppy? You shouldn’t be, because what you showed me today is that my bitch thinks she’s allowed to use me like that. I think, you might need a little reminder of who the fuck I am. Because you know your place, don’t you, Y/N? Speak up, now.”

The grin on his face terrifies you in the best way, and your voice cracks when you whisper out, “Yes, sir.” He hums, flexing his fingers before wrapping them around the handle and beginning to run his other hand through the ends. “Tell me then,” he pauses for a while, turning his head back to lean down and whisper in your ear, “Who do you belong to?”

“You, sir, I’m yours, I belong to you, please, please, pl-,” your whimper is cut short by a swift hit across your chest, back arching off the bed at the sensation. He managed to hit you directly on the nipple with one of the strips, feeling harsh pinpricks of pain course through your body and leaving you gasping for air.

“That’s right,” he condescendingly praises, lightly dragging the flogger over your body. “I think you might’ve forgotten that I fucking own you. You are MINE,” your right tit this time. “My property.” Left. “My whore to fuck as I please.” Right. “And my fucking slut to use.” Two fingers slip deep past your lips for only a second before he’s removing the digits, a loud moan leaving you when he begins slapping your tits with his bare hands, feeling the slight sting of his rings still on.

“Fuck, Sir, please, I know, I know, please, I’ll be such a good slut for you, please, just fuck me,” you cry out, legs shaking from the pain flooding your system, your brain turning it right into pleasure. Matthew laughs at this, a genuine belly laugh, dropping the flogger on the ground next to you. His hand grabs you by the throat, pulling you slightly upwards so you’re forced off the bed a ways.

“Good luck,” he whispers, releasing you before finally beginning to unbutton his shirt, taking his time taking his eyes up and down your naked body, small red marks already appearing from how hard he’s grabbing you. Dropping the shirt behind him, he moves to sit between your legs, forcing your hips to come off the bed and into his lap, a small, “thank you, sir” coming from you. He smirks at you, taking his thumb into his mouth to suck it past his lips, his cheekbones protruding and your mouth watering at how fucking hot he looks, watching closely when he pops it from his mouth and he grins at you, leaning forward to spit directly on your pussy. “I wouldn’t be thanking me just yet, pretty thing.”

A gasp escapes you when he brings his thumb down to your throbbing clit, the slightest touch making your hips jump but you force them down, closer to him. He begins to trace small circles on you, feeling you start to flutter already from the gentlest touch. “Close already, are we?” You whimper out, nodding quickly. “‘S a shame you had to be a bad girl then.” You hold back a groan at his words, clenching tighter to try and hold off your orgasm.

Feeling this, Matthew smacks your inner thigh, hard, and slides a finger into you, shaking his head back and forth when he sees your legs start to shake. “Don’t get all coy on me now, go ahead and relax. Wanna feel how aching you are for me without having to worry if I’ll be able to take my finger out of your greedy pussy.” He finishes his sentence by slipping another finger inside and beginning to curl his fingers towards himself, finding that soft spot inside of you instantly. Your neck cranes backwards while your lungs beg for air, unable to breathe at this point, let alone hold off your impending orgasm. Matthew senses this, and withdraws his fingers at the last second, smirking at the loud whine you release.

“Tell you what,” he starts, pausing to spit roughly on your clit, glancing back up at you when you cry out in frustration. “If you can put that dirty mouth to good use and beg for me, I’ll fuck you. Use those crocodile tears and give me a good performance.”

You gasp out, shaking your head from side to side as your hips start bucking, which Matthew puts a stop to immediately. “Not... not a performance, please, sir, please please please please please fuck me, I’ve been so-so good and haven’t touched once! I’m so sorry, please just fuck me, I’ve learned my lesson, please.” You’re crying by the end, your body on fire and the bubble in your stomach feels like it’s ready to burst, hands shaking from the adrenaline.

“Again.” Is all you hear from Matthew, and you lift your head up and whine, staring up at him with eyes filled with tears, not breaking eye contact as he pushes his fingers inside of you once more, finding your special spot with ease and pressing. Your eyebrows knit together as you moan, cutting yourself off to rush out, “Sir, please, use me, please just get yourself off, fuck me like a toy for your pleasure, please just fuck me. Need you to hurt me, Daddy.” The title you give him spurs him on further and you sigh when you feel him get up and slide his briefs down, your head lolling to the side in exhaustion and, to be fair, preparation for what’s to come.

“Hey,” Matthew snaps, pulling your spaced-out eyes back to see him in between your legs once more, watching as he leans forward to massage his tip against your wetness, coating himself in seconds. “Eyes on me. I’m giving you my cock and you can’t even say anything to me? Don’t care where you are, I’ve trained you better.”

You can feel the degradation as faraway as you were and you blink up at him before nodding quickly, thanking him as if your life depended on it. He leans forward, one arm going to lift up your back, his free hand guiding himself slowly inside of you, simultaneously moaning with you as he sinks deep into your pulsing walls.

Without giving you a moment to think, he sets up a brutal pace, his hips snapping forward and hitting your swollen clit with each thrust, repeated moans and screams falling from your lips as you try and keep breathing from how good he’s fucking you. You can feel his hard, hard cock inside of you, and you know that if you were to look you would be able to see him poking through your skin slightly.

As if he was reading your mind, Matthew pushes down on your stomach and a scream rips from your throat, the pressure from both sides making it impossible to think anymore. “Y’fuckin like that, nasty girl, can see me fucking your tight cunt through your stomach, yeah? Yeah?” He presses down harder until you scream out, “Yes!” thrashing on the bed underneath him. He groans, removing his hand to hold onto the headboard in front of you, keeping his fast, deep pace as he stares down at you.

“Hardest I’ve been in my fucking life, I swear, got me fucking whipped for this cunt, but I know you’re just as bad for my cock, huh, baby? Gonna feel me for days.” He moves his arm out from underneath you to cup one of your cheeks, watching with a smile as you nuzzle into it out of habit. He leans down to kiss you sweetly, too sweetly for how he’s fucking you, his lips meeting yours and just sitting there for so long, just giving you his touch before he’s peppering small kisses on your lips, before pulling away and humming, and you hear the slap before you feel it against your cheek.

He’s fucking cruel, watching with a grin as your head rolls back and you clench so tight you almost push him out, but he slides back inside easily and resumes his borderline torture on you. His fingers make their way over to pinch your cheeks together, your tongue falling out automatically which Matthew hums at, spitting slowly into your waiting mouth. Some of it falls down your chin, but Matthew catches it with his thumb, sliding it right back into your mouth. You whimper around him as your legs begin to shake again, unsure of how long you’ll be able to hold off.

“S-So close, Sir,” you gasp out, cutting yourself off with a loud moan when his hand moves from your face to push your legs over his shoulders, fucking harder into you than he had ever tonight, reaching spots so far inside of you that you weren’t even sure existed.

Breathing felt like a chore at this point, you didn’t know this level of pleasure existed, as if you were completely filled and satisfied, but also on fire and so close from the biggest prize of your life. You try and express this in a whine, and hearing Matthew tut, as well as his hips stutter once, you know what’s coming next.

His hands wrap around your throat and begins to use it as a handle to pull you on and off his cock, choked moans and gasps being ripped out of your vocal chords. Matthew groans deeply, pulling his left hand away to smack you across the face once, throwing your head to the side as your back arches off the bed, the new angle allowing him to slip even deeper inside of you.

“Stay there, stay right fucking there. God, my cockslut doing so well for me, letting her owner fuck her so hard, so deeply.” His left hand grips your hip, using it as leverage as he begins to pull on your neck harder, speeding up the pace. A mix between a gasp and a whine falls from you, chest rising and falling quickly as you try and comprehend how fucking good this feels.

“G-gonna cum,” you cry out, whining when you see Matthew shake his head side to side, causing you to squeeze tighter around him to try and hold off. Matthew chokes on his moan and his hands fall from your body, hips stilling inside as he sits up more. While you’re grateful for the opportunity to breathe again, it’s short lived when Matthew smacks you across both cheeks, not even giving you a second before backhanding you on both sides. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your body shakes underneath him, pussy fluttering around him as you try not to cum.

“Oh, you fucking liked that didn’t you, you dirty slut. Think I should take a picture of you like this to show to the world, let everyone know how filthy my girl is. What would they think, seeing you so close with my handprints across your face, saw how rough you like it.” His head’s tilted back, lips dark red and bruised from how hard you were biting them, chin glistening from your wetness, looking like a devil in an angel’s body. His tongue peeks out to swipe along his teeth, chest heaving but he stares down at you with a grin on his face, watching your body thrash, bark arching and falling repeatedly while your hands clench into fists as you try and hold off your orgasm.

“Please, please, please!” You beg, openly crying and squeezing the absolute life out of Matthew. Hearing you sob underneath him, he finally takes mercy on you, bringing a hand down to rub fast circles on your clit, the other tightening around your throat, squeezing as hard as he knew you could take.

“Give it to me, come on, let go for me. Need it so bad, now, Y/N,” he moans, looking into your open eyes before finally spitting in your open mouth, the bubble building up inside of you finally shattering and you scream, your body convulsing as you cum, and squirt all over the sheets, Matthew, and yourself, feeling as if your orgasm would never end.

It was like your pussy got stuck by lightning, you didn’t know this kind of pleasure was possible, it was like every nerve in your body was exploding, every atom being stimulated by Matthew, and you knew your voice was going to be sore tomorrow but you couldn’t stop moaning, the feeling otherworldly. You vaguely felt him release your throat, gasping as you tried to catch your breath, feeling as if your entire body had a vibrator held to it, the aftershocks hitting you again and again as you tighten and release Matthew’s cock again and again.

Matthew swore he saw God that day, watching your head roll back into the mattress and cum so hard he had to hold you down to keep you still, fucking you through his own as he came deep inside you, unable to wait after being drenched with your squirt. Your moans sounded like a choir in his ears, spurring him on to make sure to get every last bit of your orgasm out of you, groaning lowly in his throat before resting his forehead in the crook of your shoulder, continuing to slowly thrust in and out of you. His arms tighten around you immediately when he feels how much your body is shaking, lifting his head up to get a look at your eyes.

“Oh precious baby,” he murmurs, smoothing out your hair around your face. Your eyes were looking right through him, not even realizing he was there as you basked in the warm cloud you were currently on. He leaves a few kisses on your temple before trying to pull out of you, a loud whine stopping him quickly. His thumbs brush away the tears that had already started falling, hearing you moan, “No, no, no, no, no.” Slipping his thumb in your mouth, he rushes out,

“Okay, okay, not going anywhere sweet girl. Mm, you wanna tell me your color, honey love? You feeling good?” The hand in your mouth moves up and down as you nod slowly, eyes drifting back to the ceiling. “You did so well for me, pumpkin, such a good girl. Do you wanna go take a nice, warm bath? Make you feel so much better, how does that sound? Good?” You blink slowly up at him, squeezing them shut when they start to burn with tears. Matthew wipes them away faster than they can fall, biting his bottom lip nervously. You had never been this far under before, he was sure, and to have you so unresponsive made him a little scared. He just wanted to take care of you.

“Babygirl,” he breathes, pulling his thumb from your mouth to wrap around the back of your head and pull you closer to him, head tucked into the crook of his neck. Your bare chest is pressed against his and warmth spreads over your body, happy to be close to your dom. You hum contently and light suck on the skin your lips touch, holding it gently between your teeth, not even processing the groan Matthew lets out. He makes sure that he’s feeling you breathing under him, mind moving a million miles an hour trying to think of what he should give you first. Nuzzling your head out of his neck, he presses his lips to yours, lightly sucking on each of your lips to distract you while he pulls out.

“I know, I know, I know, honey, here, I’m still with you little one,” he tries to console you when you whine into his mouth, his fingers moving to replace his now softened cock. His hand moves to cup your dripping sex and he gently pushes a finger inside, but by the look on your face he knows you felt empty. “You can warm my cock later, but I’m gonna sit you up right now, my love,” he whispers, sliding his finger out of your quivering heat.

Pulling away slightly to make you chase his lips, he uses this as an opportunity to gently lift you up and sit in his lap, arms deadweight over his shoulders and your forehead pressed to his sternum. He wraps one arm across your entire back, holding you tightly towards him while the other hand strokes your back up and down. He continues to murmur, “good girl,” and humming in the back of his throat, knowing the deep vibrations from his vocal chords is soothing to you. The change in position allows him see all the marks he’s left down your back, nail scratches, small angry red marks left by gripping you a bit too tightly. He also gets a look at the top of your ass, handprints and small ‘MGG’ clearly visible all over. He winces while looking at that, maybe he went a bit wild on that one. He’s pulled out of his thoughts when he feels you move your lips against his chest, whispering something too quiet for him to pick up on.

“What was that, baby?” He asks, pitch raised as if talking to a young child. You repeat what you said, his heart clenching at your small voice asking him, “Bathtime?” Stroking your hair softly, he holds you to his chest, lungs releasing all the air inside of him. He pinches his eyes shut and his voice cracks when he coos,

“Yeah, sweetheart, we can go take a bath now, do anything you want. Oh, little one,” he murmurs, feeling your tears fall onto his chest. He takes your face in his hands, studying your expression carefully. Your mouth parts slightly and he takes it as a sign to place his thumb back inside your mouth, watching you hum in appreciation. Lifting you up carefully, he brings you over to the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub with you in his lap while the water begins to run.

A small whine catches his attention from where he was pouring epsom salts into the bath, his head snapping to yours quickly. Your big y/e/c eyes stare up at him, still very hazy but recognizing where you are now. Releasing his thumb from your mouth, you begin to mumble, “Love you, love you, love you, love you,” over and over again, reaching your arms over his shoulders to hug him tightly. Feeling his arms wrap around your back, you breathe in his scent, senses overwhelmed with HIM. His lips kiss the side of your head as he sighs into your ear, squeezing you closer.

“Love you so so much, angel. Oh, you have no idea how loved you are, pretty thing.” You hum quietly, shaking your head back and forth. “Oh, you do know then?” His fingers run up your side lightly and you giggle, trying to lift yourself away from his skillful fingers. Pulling away to look up at him, you lose your words for a second when you see the bright smile on his face, eyes looking at you with nothing but appreciation, love, and a bit of worry still in them.

“Tickles, Daddy” you say around his thumb, having placed it back in your mouth already, as your eyebrows crease slightly because you think it makes you look intimidating. He hums, turning the water off behind him before his attention returns to you. A small chuckle leaves his lips when he sees your expression, watching with a lovesick smile when your lips turn up and you place a small kiss on the tip of his thumb. He swipes the digit across your lower lip, leaning forward to give you a kiss, sighing deeply into it.

“Why don’t I put you in the tub and you get all cozy while I go get some things for you? Oh, baby, don’t cry, only for one minute, okay? Daddy’s good girl can do it, so brave,” He consoles you, not liking the way a pout rested on your lips.

“Promise?” you ask pathetically, voice cracking while you let him slide you into the warm water, his arms getting wet when you hold onto him for longer than needed.

He can feel his heart breaking at your bambi eyes, overwhelmed with the amount of care he needed to give you right now. “Be back so quickly you won’t even notice, okay?” When you huff out all your air, he takes it as a sign to slip away and quickly grab everything he needs to, leaving you alone in the tub.

You bite your lip, reminding yourself that you were Daddy’s good girl, she could last a few minutes without him. Whining quietly to yourself, you rest your head on the side of the tub, feeling the effects of the last few hours catch up with you. While you were doing this, Matthew was running around the house like a mad man. He first grabbed the biggest glass of water he could find, some dark chocolate and peanut butter so he could get some protein in you, and finally grabbing the robes he threw in the dryer when he first got home. It was a habit of his at this point, he always wanted you to be warm, cozy, and safe.

You hear the record player turn on in the bedroom and perk up, the soft sounds of jazz slowly filling the space when Matthew walks through the door, arms full of different items that he places on the table next to the tub. He smiles down at you, taking your outstretched hands in his as he slides in behind you, pulling you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your waist. Soft kisses are pressed behind your ear as he sighs deeply, finally able to relax and completely focus on taking care of his baby.

“Look at you, my perfect girl, did so well for me. I got some lavender oil, you wanna put a few drops in the tub?” he asks you gently, holding the glass bottle in front of you. His other arm caress up and down your side, making it difficult for you to focus on anything else. “Y/N,” he draws out, his soft voice getting you to turn your head and look at him. “Lavender, yes or no?”

You nod slowly then, taking the dropper from the bottle and placing four drops into the tub, feeling so much praise when Matthew continues to tell you how good you are. A happy squeal comes from you when you curl back into his chest, feeling his laughter reverberate off of you. His hand reaches up to hold your head against him, the two of you sighing as you sat in your own little perfect world, nothing but love and calmness filling the space.

Hearing you sniffle, it breaks the silence you were surrounded in, sending a hot flash down his spine, Matthew’s arms pulling you back to look at him, your teary eyes making his fill with worry. Before he has the chance to speak, you choke out the most pitiful, “Bad girl?” His hands take your face in them immediately, bringing you close to kiss your forehead and shake his head back and forth. “No, baby, you’re my best girl, so good for me, so so good for me. My Y/N was just a little naughty today, yeah? But Daddy’s not mad, pretty. Got such a good girl for me.” When you shake your head back and forth in his hands, his eyebrows furrow, pulling away to look at you eye to eye, wincing when he sees how goddamn faraway you were. “Do you want to tell Daddy what got you so worked up? Maybe let me know your color, little one?”

You let out a wet sob, looking at his kind eyes staring at you with so much love that it physically hurts. “I just wanted you to touch me, b-but you would only let me kiss you! N-No lovin on me, but y-you are so good to me and I was being selfish,” you finally end, suckling your bottom lip before Matthew’s thumb replaces it, his other hand moving to cup the nape of your neck. His lips softly kiss your swollen eyelids, then your nose, then your lips, removing his thumb for a moment to pour his love into you.

“Not selfish, sweet pea, just gotta tell me you want me. I know I’ve got an insatiable puppy, who I love very much, yeah?” He smiles sweetly at you, pushing your hair back behind your ears to tsk, seeing another tear roll down. “I think you’re also just a little overwhelmed, should’ve let you eat more before I went so rough on you.” You can barely think of what he’s saying with the way he’s holding you and how kind his tone is, like you were a little child he needed to care for.

A cool glass pressed to your lips pulls you out of it, looking up at him while you drink it slowly, not having to lift a finger as he tilts his hand up for you. His tongue pokes out to wet his lips, watching as you drink almost the whole glass, turning your head away when your done. He drinks the last few sips in one big gulp, placing it to the side before unwrapping the chocolate bar. His thumb presses against your lip as you bite into the piece he gave you, the bitter flavor having you crinkle your nose in response. Matthew laughs at you, placing the other half in his mouth.

“I know, sugarplum, not too sweet, but so good for you. Got some good antioxidants in there.” He continues to hand feed you half of the bar, eating the other half for himself after you bite each square. It takes more coaxing for the peanut butter, but he knows that you trust him with your entire being right now and you’ll listen to anything he says. It’s almost unreal the minimal amount of effort he has to put in for you to do what he says, something that takes some getting used to, but, god, does he relish in it.

You feel his hands start to rub soap up and down your body, taking his time near your shoulders, neck, and back to give you gentle massages. A long sigh fills the air as you lie there, feeling so well-cared for by him. A cup of water rinses off the suds from your shoulders, but your eyes have slipped shut a long time ago. Matthew takes his time washing your hair next, scratching your scalp and making sure to not tug on any knots, you can worry about those later. Right now was just to take care of you.

He feels you shift in his lap while he’s rinsing out the conditioner, his eyes snapping to watch yours open, still very far-away. Leaning his head down, he gives you a kiss on the nose, feeling so full of love when you giggle at his actions.

“Love you, Daddy,” you whisper, feeling like any louder would ruin the moment. He places the cup on the table, turning you around to face his chest as he hugs you, kissing the top of your head. Your eyes fill with tears out of nowhere and you tighten your arms around him, making it difficult for him to pull you away to look at your face. His hands hold your cheeks while his eyes search yours back and forth quickly.

“Hey,” he gently starts, a small smile on his face while he wipes your tears. “I love you so much, little love. So so much. You’re quite far away still, aren’t you? Still feeling green?” His body can finally relax when you repeat the color back to him, tension dropping from his shoulders from the verbal confirmation. “Good girl, so good,” he hums, the praise sending flutters to your stomach. “Thank you for telling me your color, angel. Do you want to get out and Daddy can put some lotion on you? Got some ouchies we need to take care of.”

After receiving your nod, Matthew unplugs the drain and stands you up, helping you out of the tub and immediately into a robe. The two of you walk back into the bedroom, his arm around your waist while you lean on him. He had changed the sheets when you were in the bath, not wanting you to have to lie on the soaked fabric. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you allow him to braid your hair quickly, knowing that you hated lying on the bed with wet hair splayed everywhere. You hear the elastic wrap around the ends and then his arms are around you, head tucked into your neck to kiss you softly.

“You warm enough for me to do your butt, honey?” He whispers, grinning when you nod happily. This was one of your favorite parts of aftercare. He gently slips you out of the robe, letting you get comfortable on your stomach before he sits crosslegged next to you, gently ghosting his hand down your spine.

“I’m using special lotion today, do you want aloe instead?” Special lotion was what you always called the cream Matthew put on your marks, something your faraway self once muttered when he was taking care of you. With no surprise, you agree with him, and he uncaps the pot, beginning to massage the cool cream on your ass. His heart clenches when you hiss at the ring marks, immediately spitting out, “I know, I know, shh, it’s okay.” His thumb traces over them, cock growing when he feels how indented his name was into you. He snaps out of it when he feels you shift under his hand, continuing to apply the lotion on your ass, and a thin layer across the scratches on your sides and back.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N,” Matthew breathes, caressing your back while you turn your face to look at him. “Just, such an angel for me. So so lucky to have my good girl.” Your cheeks turn pink and you try to hide your face in the pillow, not making it far before his hands turn your body over to look up at him. Crawling over your body, he rests himself on his forearms, dipping his neck down to plant soft kisses on your lips. After a minute, he pulls away to lift up the covers and shuffle the two of you under them, immediately wrapping his arms around you to tuck your head into his chest. This was his form of aftercare just as much as yours, he needed to remind himself that you were there and his and that you loved him.

“No more cryin’, honey, don’t like to see those tears on my girl, okay?”

His arms hold your naked body to his chest tightly, like if he let you go the world would end. Feeling your soft sighs hit him every few seconds was enough to make his eyelids begin to droop, and hearing how even your breathing has gotten, he figured you had already fallen asleep, and finally allowed himself to breathe. You were safe, loved, and cared for. He’d just have to get some food in you when you two woke up from the nap.

THREE HOURS LATER

Your eyes slowly flutter open, the bright golden sunlight hitting them from between the gap in the curtains. Turning your body to face Matthew’s once more, you exhale slowly, trying to get out of the sleep haze you were in. Or maybe you were still under.

Perhaps your thinking was enough to wake Matthew, the dom side of him always just knowing when you were up. He groans lowly, tightening his arms around you to pull you tighter into his chest, feeling him kiss the top of your head a few times.

“Still floaty, baby?” He softly asks, holding the back of your neck in his hand, the feeling so deeply comforting to the both of you. You shrug, muttering out, “dunno,” before looking up at him finally, seeing his tired eyes already crinkled from the wide smile on his face. You lean up to press a soft kiss on his lips, just holding them there and allowing Matthew to suck softly on your bottom lip, shushing the small whimper that comes out of you.

“Love you, baby,” he whispers, smiling softly when you repeat it back to him. “You know you’re my good, perfect girl, yeah? Gave me a good fright seeing you so sad over me,” he frowns, tracing your cheek with his thumb. You nod slowly, whispering “good girl,” to yourself, smiling when Matthew tugs you closer to him, thumb moving down to play with your bottom lip.

“Feel like I should also let you know I changed into a pair of clean shoes when I got home, don’t want my girl to actually be dirty,” and you whine into his chest, blushing at his loud chuckle.

“Who knew I had a squirter as my little love? Why’d you hide that from me?” Matthew fake pouts, and you blush, trying to hide your face in your hands, but Matthew’s quick to pull them away by your wrists. Trailing a hand slowly down your face, he turns your jaw to examine the bruises on your neck, small, but distinct fingerprints outlined on your otherwise unblemished skin. He tuts, to himself mostly, placing his fingers over the purple marks and lightly pressing down, reveling in the gasp you release.

“Such a shame your pretty pussy’s much too sore to take me, because I’m doing that again and again and again to you, very soon, my dear.”

A/N: so...... yeah. lol. i’m sorry ? idk what to say after this. that was a lot. hope you liked it !!! i’m ASS at taking requests (seeing as this took over a month) but i’m going to see if i can get into blurbs or little drabbles or whatever they’re called hehe so send in requests !! (i’ll have to dm you for clarification for my piece of mind if it’s a long piece, so expect that haha)

- lana xx

[lunaastoir]

Hi! I really enjoy your writing so is it alright if i request xiao, diluc, childe with an idol s/o where one of their old stalkers come back or they just recently had a stalker in general but with how busy they were since they’re an idol they don’t even notice? And something bad happens (i cant think of anything</3) Thank you very much !!

hi anon!! a million apologies since this is so late but i hope you like the fic <3

there also aren’t any explicit details for anything bad happening - i briefly touched on subjects that you may not have control over, i hope that’s ok! 

warning (?): struggled a bit on this prompt so i apologize in advance if this isn’t my best work LMAOO

gn! reader

tw: hints of assault, slight angst, very light abuse if you squint

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

xiao

now xiao is a very observant man but he's also extremely busy keeping liyue safe

he makes it a point to always come to your shows even if you don't actively see him bc he cares a lot abt you and he enjoys listening to your music ‼️

it's normal for him to sometimes get lost between his own world of demonslaying and the world he shares w you

so one night, he's hanging on the rafters of a house with the perfect view of your singing

everything goes smoothly, he sets his spear down while lightly swaying his head to the music

the concert ends and fans disperse after you say your farewells

a night like this is rare since for once, xiao can walk home w you back to the inn sweet boy really cleared out his schedule for you huh

you're unsurprised when you see him materialize next to you, opting to flash him a smile and a hello

his cheeks are lightly flushed as he crosses his arms before talking quietly about how well you did

he relishes in the wide smile you give him as a result of his praise and he lets the corners of his lips curve upwards slightly

the quiet bustle of the harbor seemed to slow down as the night grew longer

since this was a fairly large concert, you had boxes among boxes of equipment so xiao decided to make your life easier by quickly flying them to their appropriate locations

when he got back however, he was surprised to see you talking animatedly with someone

he didn't think anything was wrong until he saw the person trap you between the stage and words filtered into his ears

your back was painfully pressed against the stage wall as you defiantly met their gaze. after xiao had left, they had immediately come over to you: first introducing themselves as a fan and making amiable conversation, before divulging in personal details of your life that made your skin crawl. you weren’t helpless, you always had your weapon on hand regardless of whether you were performing or not. the way they pushed you against the wall however, made it near impossible to summon your sword should you need it. 

they leered down at you while balancing an arm against the wall next to your head. you had dealt with things like this before so you weren’t overly worried; you could defend yourself. you almost felt pity for the person in front of you as they asked for your number with a sadistic grin, disgusting words tumbling off of their lips. however, that was before you felt their cold fingers idly make their way to your stomach and you felt your breath hitch. oh no

the telltale sound of whooshing alerted you of xiao’s presence, and the press of the tip of his spear against their jugular brought you relief. 

“back away” he tightly growled while his golden eyes narrowed into slits. they stared at him in shock before holding their hands up and moving to step a foot away from you. 

“farther” he motioned with his spear before stepping in front of you as you attempted to collect yourself. 

“ok ok, i’m far away can you put your spear down now?” 

“no.” 

you mentally cursed as you watched the two of them glare at each other. this was supposed to be a carefree night but this unfortunate twist made the air thick with tension. you could feel the anger radiate off of xiao in waves and in an effort to deescalate the situation, you spoke. 

“i’m glad to meet such an...avid fan but i’m sorry the two of us must get going now” you hastily said before attempting to grab xiao’s hand and walk off past them. 

the next words had you halt your steps as they divulged their secret. 

words painted in careless arrogance with hints of violet overconfidence flew out of the person’s mouth - “judging from the weeks i’ve been following you, it didn’t seem like you had a boyfriend”

at the mere mention of prolonged stalking, xiao immediately lunged to pull you behind him. god, he didn’t kill mortals but he swore if he plunged his spear into this human being right here, no one would even blink twice considering how low of a person they were. 

“if i ever see you near them again, i will not hesitate to kill you. i won’t blink twice, i already have blood on my hands.” he ground out.

at the threat, the person grudgingly turned their back to you before leaving the two of you alone in the quiet harbor. 

you carefully reached a hand out to touch your boyfriend’s shoulder, but stopped after you saw the expression on his face. the mix of rage, sadness, and anguish imprinted his features as you watched his chest rapidly rise and fall - a result of his emotional battle. 

“i’m sorry i didn’t notice them before. i should’ve been paying more attention to you” he whispered before silently striding away from your grasp 

you knew that no matter how many reassurances you gave him about how, “it’s not your fault xiao, i didn’t notice them either” he would still blame himself. 

he was supposed to protect you right? so why couldn’t he sense the danger beforehand? what would’ve happened if he wasn’t there?

it’s still a learning process for him to realize that things happen, and he inevitably couldn’t be there to save you from everything. he needs time to understand and adjust. you’re willing to wait, patiently helping him through it. why? because love is worth it. 

god im sorry this ended up kinda sad whoops

diluc 

i swear everytime i say i’m a childe simp diluc kinda wrecks me

ahem anyways onto the hc!

he’s kinda never around but similar to xiao he will overwork himself to clear out an hour or two just to watch your concerts 

he’ll always stand off to the side too so if you tilt your head while you’re singing you can spy his red hair 

you always flash him the sweetest smile and this man blushes like CRAZY before quickly lifting his hand up to give you a thumbs up 

everyone watching the both of you like 😍😦

people think it’s the cutest thing i swear like c’mon the elusive “bachelor of mondstadt” being seen in public supporting you??? wow pls can we share him

he walks with you back to the winery, the entire time linking his hands with yours while gushing about your performance 

1939248/10 it’s literally the sweetest thing 

the next day however, adelinde brings you a pink letter addressed to you 

he doesn’t pry because it’s addressed to you and it’s your business but as the letters start coming by everyday, he starts to grow curious 

one day he straight up just asks you about it

“hey, you know those pink letters you keep getting? who are they from?”

you laugh slightly at his bashfulness and respond with a “just some overexcited fan” and he smiles before kissing your forehead 

he loves that people are noticing your talent 

loves it! until you get stalked by the same person who wrote you those letters while you were shopping!

diluc knows something’s wrong when you rush into angel’s share panicked after not returning his usual smile. 

“darling? are you ok?” he asks worriedly before quickly setting down the glass he was cleaning to move towards you. 

the widening of your eyes as you looked behind you at the sounds of someone else entering was all he needed to swiftly step in front of you, blocking their gaze of your face. 

the slightly panicked look in your eyes before you hurriedly whispered, “they’re following me” made diluc glance at them subtly out of the corner of his eye. he watched as they walked over to find a seat next to the bar, seemingly ready to order a drink. he quietly asked if you would like to sit in the room reserved for the employees, away from their prying eyes. your hasty nod was all the confirmation he needed for him to let you access the door behind him. 

the night went by fairly smoothly with kaeya’s usual teasing and venti’s usual begging for alcohol. diluc’s eyes narrowed however, when the person seemed to ask him questions regarding you. things like, “i heard you’re dating y/n... they’re amazing, how long have you been together?” and “do they live with you at dawn winery?” diluc answered these questions as short as he could, trying to convey with his body language that he truly did not want to talk to them. 

everything was going well until he made the mistake of leaving the bar unattended. he had briefly forgotten about your residence in the room behind him as his mind immediately gravitated to breaking up a brawl. when he returned, the half drunk glass of liquor combined with the person’s absence from their seat, caused sparks of worry to light up inside his chest. 

turning to the door, he knocked once. 

“is everything alright in there love?”

the sounds of things rustling about and the occasional muffled voice had him opening the door quickly. he saw you with your arm being held tightly in their grasp, your mouth muffled with their hand, while you strained against them by pulling at your arm. 

diluc immediately made his way over to you, quickly pulling your arm away before letting you enter into his embrace. 

“get out.” the venomous words clawed their way out of his throat as he looked at them with eyes that screamed hatred. his blood was boiling as his mind replayed the scene; your scared expression and their greedy eyes. 

diluc didn’t need to repeat himself twice as they ran out, trying not to trip over crates of wine. he made a mental note to find out who they were in order to make sure they never came near you ever again. 

he quickly looked down at your form, relaxing slightly at the sight of your tentative smile. “my knight in shining armor” you joked before softly nuzzling your head into his shoulder. the anger had yet to dissipate from his veins, and although he knew you were still shaken up, he was sure you would be fine. 

a pink letter placed on the table next to you caught his eye, and he made sure to quickly pocket it as he led you out, gently jesting with you about the “unnecessary amount of wine barrels in here, diluc this is a safety hazard!” 

he would deal with this person later. 

childe

ayo AYO ITS THE TOY SALESMAN

ok tbh he’s very rarely around so he unfortunately cannot make it to all of your shows 

dw tho, he will try his hardest to be there for the ones he’s in town for bc what is he if not your number one hype king??? 

ok kinda creepy! alert 

he’s tasked two of his subordinates to keep watch over you whenever he’s out of the harbor

it’s not anything creepy,,, he just gets extremely worried abt you and wants to make sure you’re safe 

sO when he gets a ransom note??? he’s understandably confused but also very much freaked out 

bc did they not know who he was??? the fact that they thought they could get away with holding you captive was quite honestly kind of funny to him 

very stressed and angry tho - hides it behind a facade of smiles but he’s raging 

takes him only a few hours to track you down bc he had everyone and i mean EVERYONE looking for you 

the note crunched in his hand as the harbinger made his way towards windrise. his pace was erratic, long legs rushing towards the small cave his agents had found. they were bordering the perimeter of the enclosure, careful to not alert you or your captor of their presence. childe’s subordinate head had calmly stated that childe need not come out to rescue you, the situation was under control and they could do it for him. however, childe’s sharp gaze along with his sickly sweet words of “thanks but no. i’m coming out to see this sorry asshole for myself” had the agent backing away apologizing. he wanted to see the look on this person’s face before he shoved their sorry ass into the abyss himself. 

as he reached the opening of the cave, he glanced over his shoulder at his head agent; a silent warning to keep the area sealed. his blue eyes glinted with a thirst for blood before making his way into the cave, sealing off the exit with his body. 

“well well, playing games with the love of my life are we?” 

his teasing words reached your ears as your eyes immediately found the face of your boyfriend. you weren’t horribly scared, just a little shaken up and sore from the bindings on your wrists. relief coursed through your body at the sight of him. you needn’t put in your plan of getting out of these bindings to fight your captor yourself anymore. 

childe’s eyes quickly scanned over your frame, making sure you weren’t hurt. at the state of you completely unharmed, the harbinger let his heart calm down slightly. you were completely ok. 

“wait a little longer, love? i promise this will be over soon”

the wink he sent you had you lightly rolling your eyes at his antics before he directed his attention back to your kidnapper. if your captor wasn’t scared before, they were certainly shaking in their boots now at the sight of childe’s twin hydro blades rotating playfully in his hands. 

“listen, all i want is the money-”

“and all i want is your head” 

your boyfriend smiled after cutting them off. the severity of the situation truly seemed to sink in at that moment before pleas of mercy fell from your captor’s lips, desperate to escape the bloodthirsty gaze of the harbinger. childe’s eyes flickered over to yours where you sat there, with your head ferociously shaking. a silent “no.” he sighed before swiftly bringing his arm up to hit your captor on the head, effectively knocking them out cold. 

his hands worked at the ropes holding you and he gingerly rubbed at your bruised wrists. you silently thanked the archons he could never say no to you. archons forbid what would've happened if you hadn’t said anything. while you were explaining what happened, the young man quickly scooped you up in his arms before walking out of the cave. 

you playfully hit his shoulder while muttering “drama queen” but you stopped when you saw his face morph into an expression of seriousness. you had informed him on the situation about your captor revealing themselves to be a recent stalker of yours, completely oblivious to the look of frustration on his face as he freed you from your bondages. 

“i was scared you know.” he quietly divulged. “i knew that it wasn’t anything extremely serious but i... i was still scared”

you swore as you looked at him in that moment, he had turned ten again. the youth of his face betraying his vulnerability. 

you quietly hummed before tangling your fingers in his hair. “i hope you know it wasn’t your fault. it wasn’t anyone’s fault. not even the two fatui agents who you sent to stalk me while you were away.”

he quietly laughed at that before mentally filing away a reminder for a lecture to those two agents in the near future. 

“i’m just glad you’re safe. i know you can save yourself but i’ll always be here. i still wish you would let me take care of your asshole kidnapper myself though.” he pouted jokingly. 

“i’m sure the millelith will lock them up for a long time.” you laughed sweetly. 

his usual smile reappeared at your antics. maybe he didn’t get to beat your captor up and do...much worse. however at the end of the day, your smile was still intact regardless of what happened. that’s all he wanted. 

[for-fucks-sake-h]

At My Weakest - two

rated: m, mature | word count: 4.2k | story page  

“I wanna taste you again. Like a secret or a sin.”

  - Matthew Perryman Jones 

When Gianna stirred awake, she wasn’t surprised to find Harry laying beside her. What she was surprised about though was the absolute softness of his face. 

The lines of his cheekbone and jaw were still sharp, but his skin was completely smooth. The usual indent between his brows was nonexistent, and his hair was a beautiful curly mess. She found herself reaching out to smooth some stray curls back behind his ear, her fingertips just barely brushing his soft skin. 

He didn’t disappoint once he got her in his bed. Turns out his smug, cocky demeanor could be backed up, and backed up well. He wasn’t short on foreplay, he didn’t rush into it. If anything, he drew out the string of anticipation so ridiculously thin it snapped; until they were all hands and mouths and moans and pleasure. 

It was good. It was fun. It was a much needed distraction.

But it looked different in the daylight. 

What was passionate gasps and needy hands in the dimmed moonlight, was just a sloppy rebound fuck with a friend in the early morning daylight. 

Gianna was careful to slip out of bed, nakedly grabbing her borrowed sweater from the floor before tiptoeing to his bathroom. And when she returned, she was met with green eyes and tousled hair. 

“Thought you left.” His voice was even deeper than usual, the early morning rasp doing nothing to quell Gianna’s increasingly warming skin. “Didn’t think you were a hit and run kinda person.” 

Gianna breathed a soft laugh as she made her way over to him in just her sweater.

“No, but I should probably get my ass on the couch before your sister wakes up.” 

“Y’know she sleeps like the dead.” He watched her as he fiddled with the corner of his duvet, eyes tracing the curve of her hip where the sweater ended against her caramel skin. “Could give you one more before you go.”  

The lightness of his eyes looked iridescent in the morning light, especially in comparison to the blown out brown of Gianna’s staring back at him.  

He sat up just then, the dark emerald sheet slipping down his chest to rest casually across his bare hips. He was a sight with his unruly hair falling over his collar bones and his toned chest and stomach on full display. 

“In fact,” he started as he scooted down the bed until he was right in front of her, his feet meeting the ground as he pulled her closer between his thighs, “was thinking we could do this whenever you want.” 

Gianna’s hands found his bare shoulders, his skin still incredibly warm from sleep and as soft as it looked. 

“Is this my sweater?” Harry asked suddenly as he looked down to where he played with the knitted fabric at her hips, his hands slowly splaying out on Gianna’s bare thighs.  

“Gemma gave it to me last night,” she responded softly.  

“Hm. Anyway… could be a perfect fit for both of us,” Harry murmured, his head tilted up towards Gianna’s, his lips inches from hers. The innuendo was embedded in his tone and the look on his face, and even more blatantly obvious when the most subtle indent of a dimple teased its way onto his cheek.  

It would be too easy for Gianna to take him up on the offer, crawl back into bed with him and let him bring her over the edge as many times as he wanted; as many times as she wanted. But for as sexy and generous as he’d been, she knew it wasn’t the best idea and something she shouldn’t get used to.  

Gianna sighed with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder blade. “H…” 

“G,” Harry rebutted in a playful tone. 

“Probably not a good idea.”  

“I beg to differ. Think it’s a great idea. My best idea yet.”  

“Last night was fun,” Gianna offered gently. “I just don’t think we should make a habit out of it. I have a lot going on and I don’t want to drag you—”

“—Hey, say no more.”  

If Harry’s ego was bruised from the rejection, he didn’t show it.  

Instead, he pushed himself up from the bed as she took a step back, the sheet knowingly falling away from his body as he stood before her at his full height. They were nearly chest to chest, and it took everything inside Gianna to ignore the way her nipples pebbled beneath the soft fabric of her sweater.  

“The offer’s available if you ever want it.”  His lips curled around every word, only making his offer even more overwhelmingly enticing.   

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, his chest brushed against her arm as he carelessly moved around her to head to the bathroom, completely naked, every inch of his body on display.  

If he felt Gianna’s eyes on him, he didn’t show it.   

A fresh steam of her reworn silk skirt and sheer button down blouse later, and the party was in full swing, guests arriving one after another to her parents home.  

Gianna was lucky to have arrived when she did, the distraction of guests doing her every favor to hold off the inevitable questions from her family. A quick comment that Steve was held up at work was as far into it as she could get before her mother was whisked away by one thing or another. Gianna wasn’t so worried about the lie as she was her delivery of said lie. 

The end of her relationship was the last thing she felt like discussing at her fathers 50th birthday celebration.  

The one thing she didn’t anticipate was the possibility of Steve showing up.  

She saw him as soon as he walked through the front door, his polo shirt and perfectly styled hair immediately catching her eye.  His eyes scanned the room in search of her, and it felt like her heart could literally drop out of her ass.  

Gianna excused herself from her fathers colleagues before making her way toward him, her blood boiling as her heart pounded in her chest.  

“What are you doing here?” She whispered harshly as she pulled him aside, eyes ablaze as she looked at him.  

“You haven’t been answering your phone.”  His response was so casual for someone who blew up their life together without a second thought.  

“Yeah you lost that privilege yesterday, Steve.”  

“Gianna, please. Let’s just talk about this.”  

“You need to leave.”  

“Gianna—”

“Y’alright?”  Gianna turned to look up at the sound of the intruder's voice, her eyes meeting Harry’s expressionless face immediately.  

Gianna was quick to reel in her emotions as well, instead smiling and greeting Harry and Gemma and their parents.  

“Hi guys! Yeah, yeah, all good. Steve was just leaving,” Gianna continued to smile despite the confused look on Harry and Gemma’s parents faces. “He’s gotta work.” 

Steve huffed. “You’re being ridiculous.”  

“Let’s go find Lisa!” Gemma suggested to her parents with a gentle guide on both of their backs.   

“Oh, she’s in the kitchen.” Gianna pointed in the direction of her mother and released a sigh when they headed that way.  

Gianna turned back to Steve the moment they were out of earshot. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”  

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but Harry was quick to interject. “Think she told you to go.”  

Gianna watched the anger wash over Steve’s face as he turned to Harry.

“Shouldn’t take me telling you for you to listen,” Harry added with a disapproving shake of his head.

That confidence Harry exuded? Yeah, it came in handy in a wide array of situations.  

“Don’t make me kick you out of here,” Gianna told Steve. “I don’t want to cause a scene and embarrass my mum but I will if I have to.”  

Harry took the most subtle step closer. He really only sort of shifted his weight towards Gianna more, barely enough to even notice, but judging by Steve’s disgruntled face, he noticed.  

Gianna noticed too.  

“We’re going to talk about this later.”  Just the sound of Steve’s voice made Gianna’s heart plummet. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but it was. 

She watched him turn around with an exasperated huff, a withheld breath escaping her when he disappeared through the front door.  

“Y’okay?”  

Gianna momentarily forgot Harry was still standing beside her.  “Yeah,” she nodded. “Gonna go hide for a bit and collect myself.”  

She didn’t wait for his response before she disappeared upstairs with tears welling in her eyes.  

Who did Steve think he was?  Just showing up at her parents home as if nothing happened? Something did happen. A lot of shit happened.  Many words were exchanged and the way Gianna left their home and didn’t look back said even more then her frustrated, broken words.  

Gianna didn’t know how long she hid in her childhood bathroom, but apparently it was long enough for someone to come looking for her when she heard the softest tap on the door.  

She wasn’t crying, that was a plus. So she braced herself for her mother to be undoubtedly on the other side of the door, but opened it slowly to find none other than Harry leaned up against the doorframe, his face closer than she would have expected.  

His chin was pointed down towards his chest, leaving him to look up at her through his lashes with his eyebrows raised high and the lines across his forehead even more prominent.  

“Just checking on you. Y’don’t have to come out yet if you don’t wanna.”  

Gianna leaned against the wall so that she was standing parallel to him, her body lining up perfectly with his, both of their arms crossed over their chests, the door to the bathroom propped open just enough for them to see each other.  

“Is my mum looking for me?”  

He pursed his lips with regret. “I did hear her say your name a little bit ago.”  

Gianna released a deep sigh as she let her eyes fall closed. “I can’t believe he just showed up here.”  

“Do you know what he wanted?”  

Gianna scoffed. “No clue, probably to torture me some more. As if yesterday wasn’t enough.”  

“He’s got some nerve,” Harry shook his head in disbelief. 

Gianna exhaled again. “I don’t even wanna be here and now I gotta go put a show on for everyone and pretend like everything’s fine.” 

Harry gave her a small, understanding smile. “Want me to go fall down the stairs as a distraction?” 

The tiniest shiver rolled down his spine when she smiled with a shake of her head. 

“I’ll just dive head first. They’ll be so distracted with my broken collar bone that you can sneak out the back,” he added with a completely straight face, intently fighting the twitch at the corner of his mouth. 

Gianna laughed softly as she pushed her elbow against his. “What if you mess up your face? I’ll never forgive myself.” 

“Oh yeah, you’re right. Never mind scratch that idea,” Harry replied quickly, the smile forming across his face regardless of his efforts. 

Gianna’s face softened after a moment, and Harry couldn’t be positive, but he was pretty sure her body moved a half an inch closer to his. 

“Thanks for stepping in with him,” she said sincerely, her big brown eyes steady on his. 

Harry swallowed discreetly, licking his lips in a force of habit. “Anytime,” he murmured, his eyes flicking across her face. 

“You didn’t have to,” Gianna replied mindlessly, her eyes falling across his face. 

“Know I didn’t.” Harry’s voice was soft, because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he felt like his skin was on fire. 

She was so close. Her perfume invaded his senses the same way it did on the roof, it had seeped into his sheets and lingered on his skin that morning. It was all he could focus on, subconsciously pulling him closer to her. 

Although, maybe not totally subconscious at all. He knew he wanted her. He knew that after one night with her, that he wanted her again, as many times as she’d give herself to him.   

He could tell she wanted to kiss him. Fuck, he was willing her to just do it. It was like every fiber of his being was screaming for her to just connect their mouths, get lost in each other again. But he could tell she was having some sort of internal battle that held her back. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly, eyes peering into hers. 

She blinked back at him, the soft furrow of her brows somehow making her more attractive. He watched her mouth open and close, trying to find the words. 

“Tell me,” he murmured. 

He could feel her breath just barely brushing his lips as his eyes pulled down to the curve of her Cupid’s bow first, then the curve of her chest, before traveling the same path back again, ready to dive back into the deep brown of her eyes. 

They were cast down, the curl of her lashes on display instead, and at first Harry assumed in shame or disinterest. But they burned against his own mouth, as she took account of every curve of his lips. 

“G...” he tried once more, hoping that the movement of his lips spurred her on. 

She was about to say something, Harry could see it on every inch of her face, but then there were footsteps entering the room and the sound of her name being called that Gianna snapped back, pulling away from him so quickly that it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. 

“Oh there you are,” Gemma said, relieved. “Your mum's going to go searching for you any minute, wanted to find you first.”

“Yeah, same,” Harry nodded as he tried to casually run a hand through the top of his hair and gently tuck a stray piece behind his ear. Only it didn’t feel casual at all, the only thing he felt was fidgety. “I’ll go distract her,” he added as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and turned to leave. 

The truth was, he felt like he couldn’t breath and he wasn’t even quite sure why. Gianna was hard to read, she was really good at bottling things up which left him completely unsure where he stood. She told him she wasn’t interested, and he understood why. Things could get complicated and that was the last thing she needed in her life at the moment. But then she looked at him like that, and her eyes - reluctant but burning into his skin - said something completely different. 

He wasn’t going to push her, though.  She needed a friend and that was what he was going to be to her.  So he went to Lisa’s side and talked her ear off about a recent show he had watched on Discovery, and watched with a small smirk as Gianna’s mum pretended to be interested.  

Luckily, the rest of the party went on as normal. And even more so, Gianna and Harry didn’t have a moment alone together until the goodbyes. There was the slightest bit of hesitancy when they went to leave a kiss on each other's cheeks, something they and their families always did when parting ways.  

It was a blip of a moment really, but it was enough to have chills running across Gianna’s skin just from the barely there scruff of Harry’s cheek brushing hers. He gave a small, but reassuring smile when he pulled away, a soft squeeze of her arm just before he followed Gemma out the door. 

It was insane, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him the rest of the night. While she helped her parents clean up, while they talked her ear off about their upcoming travel plans, while she finally peeled herself away from them at nearly midnight, while she drove back to Gemma and Harry’s place, while she tiptoed inside and locked up behind her. 

“Hey,” Gemma called from where she was curled up on the couch in front of the tv. “Rest of the night go okay?” 

“Oh, yeah. The usual really.” Gianna sighed as she slipped her studded heels off, her limbs feeling heavy from the long day. 

“I’ll be out of your bedroom in a mo, this is almost over,” Gemma said half heartedly, eyes still trained on the tv. 

Gianna didn’t bother with a response, but instead wandered down the hallway to Gemma’s room to steal some clothes. She couldn’t help but glance at Harry’s bedroom door, the light peeking through the bottom like a temptation. 

She wondered what he was doing in there as she changed, if he heard her come in, if he could sense her in the proximity somehow.  Her fingertips prickled with curiosity and her mind tiptoed along the ledge of “what if” and “maybe” and “why not”.  

He offered.  All she had to do was accept.  

When she stepped out of Gemma’s room with an oversized white tee shirt and minty fresh teeth, she immediately noticed that Harry’s light was no longer illuminating the edges of his door, the room seemingly pitch black.  

Maybe that was a sign from the universe or something.  Maybe, she thought, she should just quit while she’s ahead.  

Her makeshift bed was all ready for her in the living room, Gemma having neatly arranged blankets and pillows on the couch where she was previously sitting.  That was one thing about both of the Style’s siblings, they never made you feel unwelcome. 

“Alright love, let me know if you need anything,” Gemma spoke as she placed her empty tea cup in the sink.  

“Thanks, Gems. Seriously. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”  

Gemma smiled warmly as she walked over, wrapping Gianna in a quick hug before heading for the hallway.  

“Oh,” she turned around quickly, “Harry spoke to Steve after we left.”  

Gianna’s heart stopped, bracing herself for whatever transpired between them.  “How bad was it?”  

“Eh,” Gemma shrugged, chuckling lightly as she continued. “Harry yelled a lot, but he’ll be gone for a few hours tomorrow morning so you can go get your stuff. We’ll go with you to help.”  

Gianna released a heavy sigh, overwhelmed with her friend's generosity. “You guys don’t have to do that.”  

“Too bad because we are,” Gemma quickly replied. “Harry told Steve he was coming with you anyway, just in case he decides to try anything like what went on today. Plus, the more hands means the faster you can get out of there.”  

Gianna gave her a pouty smile.  

“Don’t look at me like that,” Gemma laughed. “You would do the same for me.” 

“I would,” she agreed.  

“Besides, Harry’s the one that made it happen. He just told me the plan before he went to bed.”  Gemma smoothed down the baby hairs sticking up at the front of Gianna’s hairline, a small, sympathetic smile on her face. “I love you, get some sleep.”  

Gianna didn’t know what she did to deserve a friend like Gemma, but she was grateful every single day for whatever cosmic blip happened in the universe to force them together. 

“Love you,” Gianna murmured as she watched Gemma head for her room, finding herself standing completely still as she watched her bedroom door close softly at the end of the hall.  

And then she was left in silence with nothing but her thoughts. Which if anyone could hear inside her brain, they’d know they were anything but silent.  

She went to plop down on the couch, letting out a long, deep sigh as she sunk into the cushions.  

Harry didn’t need to put his neck out like that, but he did. His exact reasoning, Gianna wasn’t sure. But he appeared beside her at that party like it was second nature. He took it upon himself to find a way for her to safely get her things from her former home, and she was grateful. He was a good friend. She knew that already, but it was even more prominent now.  

She thought starting something with Harry would be harder on her than not. She thought she didn’t need the added stress.  But he never showed any indication that he would make anything stressful for her. If anything, the only thing he showed was the opposite.  

A distraction, an escape, a good time.   

That was all she needed right now.  And in a way, that was exactly what Harry was offering.  

So she pulled herself up from the couch with purpose, and padded down the hall to the door on the right with her heart beating wildly in her chest.  Her fingers brushed along the grain of wood, a last chance effort to back away with none the wiser.  

But she didn’t want to.  As ridiculous as it seemed, Harry made her feel something that she desperately needed at the moment.  

So she jumped.  

It was the softest tap, her knuckle meeting the wood so lightly she was positive he wouldn’t even hear it.  Her breath was shaky as she did it again, this time the tiniest bit harder, more sure.  

There was no sign of movement behind the door.  She waited with baited breath, tapping her knuckles a third time, squeezing her eyes closed, begging for Gemma not to hear.  

But nothing.  No sound, no movement, no Harry.  

Maybe he had snuck out at some point, while she was changing perhaps.  Or maybe he had decided she was right after all, that this - she - was too complicated for him right now.  

She drew one last small pattern on the door, her temple pressed against the framing before she dropped her hand and pulled away.  

And then in a moment of pure heart stopping relief, the door swung open and a large hand wrapped around her forearm, tugging her inside the dark room so quickly she felt lightheaded.  

Her back was pressed up against the wall beside the door as Harry eased it closed quietly.  Gianna caught her breath, her chest rising and falling sharply as she took him in.  He was in nothing but boxer briefs sitting low on his hips, his hair pulled up in a bun, his skin reflecting against the light of the muted tv in the corner of his room.  His bed was unmade, the spot he was previously occupying obvious, what with blankets thrown to the one corner and pillows propped up against the center of the headboard.  

Harry was looking at her expectantly when she turned her face back to him, but he didn’t say anything, eyes simply scanning the features of Gianna’s face.  

“How’d you know it was me?” Gianna murmured softly. 

“I didn’t.”  His tone was neutral, but his eyes were blazing, even in the darkness.  

She couldn’t pull her eyes from him, and all she could think about was taking the half a step needed to be pressed against his soft skin. 

“Hoped it was,” Harry added after a beat of silence, his eyes falling to her mouth. “Didn’t know, but hoped.” 

The words barely made their way from his lips before Gianna was taking the small step to connect their mouths.  And it was as if  Harry was waiting for it, because his hand immediately cupped her jaw as he took his own step, her back pressing against the wall once more.  

His lips were warm, and they tasted familiar this time. That thought surprised Gianna somehow - this wasn’t the first time, and although it was new, it was comforting in a way she wouldn’t be able to explain if she tried.  

He kissed her with his entire body, every inch of him pressed tightly against her, pinning her to the wall.  His tongue teased her bottom lip, and without second thought, she met him with her own, sparks shooting across her skin in the form of goosebumps and anticipation.  

The soft groan that escaped his throat as he pulled her even closer lit her on fire, his fingers digging harder into the soft curves of her hips.  

“Fuck, I want you,” Harry sighed breathlessly, his lips trailing across Gianna’s jaw and down her neck.  

She scratched her nails down his back, his body only pressing against hers more in response. “Want you too,” she whispered, like it was a confession, as if her actions hadn’t already exposed her.  

His lips burned against her throat, sucking deliberate kisses to her sensitive skin as his hands smoothed up and down her sides, gripping here, pulling there. She could feel him, hard and needy against her pelvis, and it made her stomach twist with desire. 

“This has to stay between us,” Gianna spoke gently up to the ceiling. “No one can know.”  

“Good,” Harry stamped a kiss to her jaw, pulling her face to his by the back of her neck, his lips brushing hers with his words. “Can be our secret.”  

And it was, he made sure of it.  No one would know what went on between them under the darkness of the night, hidden behind the walls of his room, disguised behind their eyes in the daylight.  

It would just be theirs, whatever it was, for as long as Harry could help it.  

But that’s the thing about secrets… they always find a way out.  

a/n: *nervous laughter* Heyyy guysss lol so! There we have it! It’s happening, it’s fine, everything’s fine. The biggest thanks to the best babes @andwhenshesays​ @oh-honey-styles​ @harrytheehottie​ @real-work-of-art​ @haute-romance-quotidienne​ @all-things-fic​ for the comments and laughs and support and encouragement - you guys are the real ones. I hope everyone enjoyed this one! Much more to come *more nervous laughter* lol thank you for reading! I hope you’ve had a great friday! xxx 

next | masterlist | ask

[seehowsupplethespineis]

When The Rain Lets Up

(Spider-Man is literally my favorite character ever. I don’t talk about him - or really any superhero media - much on here, but that’s mainly because I feel like I’ll bother people with my obsession. Of course, this is the designated bothering-people-with-your-obsession site, so I’ve decided to embrace that and post some superhero fics, starting with this one. It includes both Peter Parker and Johnny Storm in their teenage years (pre-superhero days).)

(Summary: It's pouring rain and Peter can barely see out of his stupid glasses. Consequently, he realizes too late that he should have taken a different route home. If these bullies aren't careful, Peter's liable to snap someday.)

(Warning: bullying, a bit of crying, Peter feels vengeful, Johnny’s a jerk but not as much of a jerk as he could have been)

(Note: I intentionally made the language in this story resemble the original 1960s Spider-Man comics. Just a heads up in advance.)

(AO3)

Peter’s vision gradually blurred into a mess of washed out colors. Even the bright traffic lights only hinted at red and green, though it was enough to make the rest of his surroundings white-out in comparison. With a frustrated sigh, Peter removed his glasses and rubbed them furiously with the corner of his vest. It had rained all day and his fogged up lenses were an irritating casualty of the damp air. He wouldn’t mind as much if he weren’t in a hurry to get home. It was his uncle’s birthday, after all, and Peter knew his guardians wouldn’t begin the festivities until he arrived. Not wanting to keep them waiting, he shoved his glasses back on and quickened his pace.

He blamed his abysmal vision for not seeing the clear threat ahead of him. As he paused to wait for the light, he became aware of some rowdy voices beside him. He didn’t know the kids to whom the voices belonged, but he recognized their type: popular and mean. Keeping his gaze fixed ahead, he drew himself up, attempting to assert a confidence he did not feel. Unsurprisingly, this failed miserably.

“Hey, get a load of the square?” Peter didn’t turn as one of the kids jabbed a thumb his way, though he could feel several pairs of eyes rake over him. It made his skin crawl, but he remained steadfast, even as the kids approached.

“Is that a sweater vest?”

“Man, how do you see out of those specs?”

Someone snickered next to his ear. Peter caught a flash of golden hair out of the corner of his eye, “Nice clown shoes.”

“Please, even real clowns wouldn’t wear those,” Cold soaked into Peter’s socks and pant legs as someone kicked puddle water his way, “You could fit a whole foot through the holes!”

Derisive laughter filled Peter’s ears and made his blood boil. These were the only shoes he owned. After he’d grown out of his last pair, his aunt and uncle hadn’t been able to scrape up enough money to buy new ones, forcing Peter to tromp about in his uncle’s old work shoes. He hadn’t complained, though; he knew his guardians were doing the best they could, hence the thick socks his aunt had knitted him and the layer of glue his uncle had applied to keep the soles from sliding off. Everything considered, he was quite grateful for these shoes, and he wouldn’t stand for anyone trying to make him feel bad about them.

He glared up at the last kid who’d spoken. The boy looked about the same age as him, though he was at least three inches taller. Peter resolved not to let that intimidate him.

The kid’s eyebrows rose, “Oh, looks like we struck a nerve.”

Most of the other boys pressed closer. Absently, Peter noted that the golden-haired one hung back.

“You got something to say, four eyes?” the bully sneered.

Peter became acutely aware that he was in great danger. However much he wanted to spit out the series of insults welled up in his throat, he had to back down. So, swallowing back the fire, he lowered his gaze and silently cursed his weakness.

He didn’t need to see the bully to know he was grinning, “That’s what I thought.”

During the confrontation, Peter’s glasses had misted over again. He’d need to see in case this came to a fight, so he hastily wiped his knuckles across the lenses. He realized his mistake when one of the other boys zeroed in on the action.

“Hard to see out of those goggles, huh?” Before Peter could react, the kid swiped the glasses right off his nose. A spike of panic shot through him, shattering his carefully crafted facade. If this oaf broke his glasses, he had no idea when he’d be able to afford new ones.

“Give those back, meathead!” he cried without thinking. A collective “Ohhh” rose up as he made a wild grab in the thief’s direction.

“The wallflower speaks!” someone declared with a laugh.

Peter had to squint to keep his glasses in sight. When he lunged again, the boy easily dodged.

“Gotta try harder than that!” He dangled them high above his head and Peter felt his heart leap into this throat.

From behind, he heard a sheepish voice say, “Come on, fellas, we don’t have time for this. The cafe closes in an hour.”

The voice was ignored, “Aw, liven up, Johnny! I’m just starting to have fun.”

The boy with Peter’s glasses turned to a friend, “Here, catch!”

The glasses went sailing through the air. Peter stumbled after them in blind desperation. Thankfully, the other bully caught the lenses easily, though Peter couldn’t reach in time to stop him from tossing them again, this time at the kid - Johnny - who’d complained earlier.

The golden-haired boy just barely managed to catch the glasses, clearly surprised to find them thrown his way. Peter rushed toward him as the other boys shouted for Johnny to throw them back.

“Over here, Johnny!”

“Give us a fastball!”

Peter felt hot tears spring to his eyes and had to blink furiously so his vision didn’t blur anymore. Johnny had an arm cocked, ready to throw the glasses yet again. Already, Peter’s heart sank as he foresaw explaining the broken eyewear to his aunt and uncle. Of all days, why did this have to happen on Uncle Ben’s birthday?

As Peter neared, Johnny still hadn’t thrown. Hope stirred in the smaller boy’s stomach as he locked eyes with his target. Uncertainty shown in the blue of Johnny’s eyes. Now, as their gazes met, the blond boy slowly lowered his hand.

“What’re you doing, Johnny!”

“Throw it!”

Unsure how long this small mercy would last, Peter leaped the remaining distance and practically toppled into Johnny in his haste to snatch up his glasses. With the familiar frames safely in hand, Peter let out a shaky sigh of relief and hastily replaced them over his eyes after a quick cleaning.

The other boys jeered at their friend, though it seemed more out of disappointment than anger. Johnny lifted a shoulder with feigned indifference.

“Was getting impatient,” he said tightly, “Let’s go. I need me a cup of java.”

The others muttered their disapproval but ultimately obeyed and trudged across the street. Peter kept a firm hold on his glasses as they passed, though no one moved to steal them again. Warily, he glanced back at Johnny. The blond nervously scuffed his shoe over the concrete before looking at him.

“Uh, sorry about that,” he murmured, “They get carried away sometimes.”

Peter didn’t reply and Johnny sighed loudly. With a flippant wave over his shoulder, he followed his friends.

“Just stay out of our way, square.”

This time, Peter didn’t hesitate before snapping, “Only if you stay out of mine, creep!”

With that, he spun around and stalked down the sidewalk, refusing to give Johnny time to react. His heart still thundered in his chest, though this time it was out of exhilaration. He knew Johnny was staring after him and felt a maniacal glee as he imagined how shocked the idiot must look. He would have turned to see, but decided that ignoring him completely was the best final act of revenge.

The thought made him feel a bit guilty; after all, the kid had returned his glasses and likely prevented them from smashing on the sidewalk. Still, he’d also been the one to first insult his shoes.

Once he’d turned the corner, Peter paused to let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. The triumph of before dimmed a bit, replaced by a familiar frustration. Ever since he could remember, people had been pushing him around. He’d always been powerless to stop it. Sometimes he figured he’d just have to get used to it. Most of the time, though, he indulged his inner rage.

Some day, somehow, he’d show them all. They’d be sorry for ever picking on him.

The notion consoled him. Inhaling deeply, Peter removed his glasses and scrubbed them yet again. He knew they’d fog up almost immediately, but that was okay. Judging from the sky, the rain would let up soon. So, with his vision clear, he continued on his walk toward home.

[akatsukinojutsu]

the waltz of combat -- uchiha madara

Hi! Can I request some fun play fighting (or as he likes to call it-dancing) with madara haha! Thank you! --

Madara insists that the two of you spar (dance) to bring up his energy after he suffers an injury

Madara was mildly obsessed with you. No. He was obsessed with you. From the very moment that he watched you fight on the battlefield, he knew that he wanted you to be his. So, he did everything that he could do to make sure that he would get what he wants.

The Uchiha wasn’t your boyfriend but he might’ve well had been. He fucked you on the regular and thrived on making you sob in ecstasy under him. Every male in the clan knew to never look your way let alone touch you. A few learned their lesson when their fingers were broken when Madara heard they tried to make their move on you.

His obsession bothered you at times because he often scared away any potential relationship. Madara made is clear that everything between the two of you was strictly physical. You believed that. However, that could be further from the truth. Madara made a pact to himself as well as you (without your knowledge) that he would return safely from the battlefield every time; so that he could feel the touch of your skin again and feel your soft voice whisper his name. He would’ve never guessed these feelings he had were love. Love and infatuation. 

He loved the way the candlelight glinted off of your dark doe eyes while he smothered you with wet kisses. He loved to hear your whimpers and squeaks when he ravished your body. He loved the fact that you small hands fit perfectly into his. That is something that kept him going and was just as important to him as his mission.

When Madara did not arrive home on time -- you thought the worse. He had given you a key to his house and told you that if he wasn’t home at the specific times then most likely he perished or something bad had happened. You balled the bottom of your shirt in your fists as you rolled the fabric nervously. Madara should be back by now... but he wasn’t.

You went to the door to go and search for him but he stumbled into the home when you opened it. He stumbled to the floor and you went to his aid. Madara had his hand clenched over his abdomen and red liquid was spread throughout his clothing.

“You’re hurt!” you cried as you tried to move his hand from his wound. Madara’s palm peeled back slightly and you were able to assess his wound, it was rather large. “Let me help you,” you tried to pull his shirt off but he hissed at your affection. “I’m fine!” he tried to stand up but stumbled back down to his knees. “Don’t be an idiot. Let me help you.” you pushed.

Madara continued to protest against your advances but eventually gave in when you managed to tug his clothing down past his shoulders. The Uchiha let you look at his wounds as he winced in pain. “Big bad clan leader is acting like this is a big deal,” you chuckled. “Shut up,” Madara snapped.

You filled a bowl with warm water and grabbed a washcloth. “I’m going to clean you up before I patch that wound with some stitches.” Your hand dipped into the bowl and wrung the fabric out. You proceeded to run the warm water over his torso. Your hands gliding across his chiseled form -- running over his pectorals, down his sternum, and to his muscular stomach. You could feel his abs through the thin washcloth, his body was god-like. 

Each abdominal muscle seemed as if it were carefully crafted. Each space in between them held water because they were so defined and you felt lost in admiration of his body.

Madara grabbed your wrist which pulled you back to reality. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Your cheeks heated up and you shook your head before attending to your duties. You quickly stitched him up and insisted that he went to bed. You somewhat aided him to his room but he mostly walked on his own, pushing past the ache in his side. 

Madara observed you from his bed when he laid down, his dark eyes watched you change in front of him before you crawled in beside him.

Despite his rather large wound in his side, he insisted that you laid on him for the night. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder tightly to ensure that you wouldn’t go anywhere. Knowing that you were there and feeling your body heat was sublime.

When you woke, you didn’t find Madara. He most likely was doing something that he shouldn’t be with an injury as extensive as what he had. You shuffled through his home and rubbed your tired eyes as you peered into each room in search of him. Soon you heard grunts coming from behind a door. They were Madara’s and your blood boiled at the thought of him possibly plowing himself into another woman. I mean -- things between the two of you were only physical, right?

You opened the door quickly to see Madara training with a post in his dojo. Relief washed over you when his grunts were not from having sex with another woman, but you immediately were concerned for his injury.

“What are you doing?!” you called out to him and he delivered another kick to the post before stopping. Madara turned to you and wiped sweat from his forehead. “Training,” he bent over to grab a towel from the floor and wiped his bare chest.

“You have stitches in your side! Are you trying to pop them?” you took a step toward him. Madara lent his hand out, “Dance with me.”

You knew that he meant to spar and not literal dancing. A sigh left your nostrils, “You’re going to rip the stitches, Madara.” His hand lightly wrapped around your throat and he pushed you up against the wall. His nose pressed against the crook of your neck and he breathed in your musk.

“Dance. With. Me.” he insisted. Madara placed a wet kiss in replacement of his nose, an erotic shiver shook down your spine. He pulled himself off of you and held his hand out in a fighting stance. You obliged and opted to give him a swift kick to his palm. Madara smiled at your strength and threw a punch. You blocked it with your palm and went for a punch, which the male blocked it with ease.

The two of you threw punches back and forth, dodging and blocking. Madara was much faster than you which you began to struggle with blocking his blows. He didn’t let up on his speed because he knew that you were better than how much you were currently trying. Despite having an injury, his abilities and strength were impressive. 

You landed a soft kick to the side of Madara’s head. Which prompted a wide grin from your lips but a frustrated look on Madara’s face. He was able to give you a jab to your stomach which caused you to take a few steps back. Madara lunged at you, picked you up, and lightly slammed you to the matted floor.

The two of you breathed heavily and locked eyes. You both stared into each other’s dark eyes and stayed in silence for quite sometime. Madara remembered all the reasons why he loved being around you. Seeing you under him, sweat pooling from your pores, and reflecting on the waltz of combat; he was absorbed. A warm fluttered feeling spread through his chest, fuck, he knew what he was about to confess.

“You’re -- my -- everything, [Y/N].” he quietly admitted. You blinked several times as you processed what he said. “Wh-What?” Madara sighed, “Don’t make me say it,” he pressed his lips against yours. 

“Are you trying to say that you’re in love with me, Madara-sama?”

Madara paused for a moment and turned his face from yours.

“What do you think?” he asked, almost embarrassed. You couldn’t help but see the Uchiha leader act like a schoolboy confessing his crush.

You cupped his cheek and placed a kiss on his lips. “It’s okay, I completely understand.”

[fruitcoops]

Hey I was wondering if you could write something kinda angsty but with a pretty ending with the cubs, I’m trynna project getting stood up and turning it into something nice and good, even if it’s just in my head. No pressure but I just wanna smile for a bit and your work always makes me do so :)))

Hello lovely! I’m so sorry that you were stood up--that feels awful and whoever did it missed out on a wonderful person. I’ve combined this with some other asks in the same vein (y’all wanted my boys to hurt) so I hope you don’t mind. Sending love and hugs your way! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove​ <3

1. Bad mental health day for Finn + pushing himself too hard + passing out (ft. Bee anon!)

2. O’Knutzy boiling over with a fluffy ending

3. Insecure Leo

TW for internalized guilt, vaguely implied self-harm (pushing himself too hard at practice), and relationship arguments

Finn had a few bad habits. He left dirty dishes in the sink, could never remember which setting the laundry was supposed to go on, and barely wiped his shoes on the doormat before entering the house. He wasn’t proud of his flaws, but he acknowledged that everyone had some—as long as they didn’t hurt anybody, it wasn’t the end of the world.

This one…this one was different. Even Finn knew that.

He gritted his teeth for the next set of squats, ignoring the ringing in his ears and the climbing nausea in his gut. The chart only said to do three reps, but he had been beating himself up for slacking a set earlier in the week and decided to do five to make up for it.

That, it seemed, was a poor decision.

His thighs were shaking when he finally put the weight down and he leaned on the wall to stabilize himself. “Fish? You okay?” Logan asked from the yoga mat to his right, staring up at him in concern.

“I’m fine,” Finn lied. “Just straightened up too fast.”

“D’accord.” He could feel Logan’s eyes on his back as he left the gym and headed toward the showers.

Finn’s worst habit was taking care of himself, and it wasn’t something that could be explained away as “oh, silly Harzy” like the washing machine. He made a mental note to take some ibuprofen before driving home so he would be marginally less sore in the morning, but he had the sinking feeling it would be a rough practice the next day.

Remus and Talker were playing some sort of volleyball with an old balloon between their stalls when he entered; he missed getting nailed in the head by a narrow margin and waved off their apologies with a forced smile.

A hand closed around his bicep as he passed, snapping him back to reality as Leo’s bright eyes came into focus. “Hey, lovey, is Lo with you?”

“He’s finishing up.”

A small furrow appeared between Leo’s brows. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope.” Finn faked a yawn and stretched his arm over Leo’s shoulder, dragging him down for a kiss on the cheek. “Cap’s workout just kicked my ass today.”

“That’s what they’re supposed to do,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes playfully as he passed. “You’re not a rookie anymore, O’Hara.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Logan entered the locker room a few minutes later; Finn closed his eyes and breathed in the thick steam of the shower until the fog in his head cleared a bit and he couldn’t feel the skin on his shoulders. It billowed off him as he dressed again and tossed the keys to Leo, who raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“You. There’s a little bit of slush left, and you still need to learn how to drive in it.” And I feel like I’m going to pass out at any minute. He swallowed down the last thought and pasted a teasing grin on his face—what Leo and Logan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. It was his own fault for being lazy in the past.

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

What Leo and Logan didn’t know apparently did hurt them. In hindsight, Finn should have seen that coming before he passed out in the middle of a scrimmage.

The lights of the coach’s office made his headache even worse. “Care to explain?” Arthur asked in a voice like frost. To his left, Sirius was glowering.

“I already told Hestia—”

“Yeah, I know what you told Hestia,” Arthur interrupted. “I want to hear it directly from you.”

Finn sighed through his nose and picked at a stray thread on his jersey. “I…I pushed myself a little too hard at yesterday’s practice and didn’t say anything when I started feeling bad.”

“Why.” Sirius’ eyes were hard as flint.

“Because I didn’t want to be a pain in the ass! I can handle some aching muscles, it’s not a big deal!”

“Not a—”

Arthur put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “That’s enough, Black. O’Hara, I want you to look me in the eyes.” Finn raised his head. “This was a dumbass mistake and all of us expected better from you. Your safety and health come before any workout routine, and it is your responsibility to speak up before you scare the shit out of us by dropping like a rock.”

“I’m sorry, Coach.”

“Apology accepted. I also want you to call Heather when you get home and schedule an appointment with her.” Some of Arthur’s frustration melted into genuine concern and guilt crawled up Finn’s throat. “Doing that to yourself isn’t healthy, Finn. You’re a good man, smart, and I know you know better.”

“Can we talk for a second?” Sirius asked quietly, glancing at Arthur. He nodded and left the room.

“I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck, Finn?” Sirius ran a hand down his face, suddenly pale. “What the fuck was that?”

“It was stupid.”

“Yeah, no, I got that part.”

“I slacked off a set on Monday.”

“Wow, nobody’s ever done that before,” he said sarcastically, sitting down in the chair by the wall as Finn resumed messing with his hem. “You scared the hell out of all of us.”

“I know.”

“You know I’m not mad at you, right? I’m upset that you thought you had to do that at all.”

Tears prickled the backs of Finn’s eyes. “I know.”

“I’m sure as hell not your coach or your dad, but I’m going to say this as your friend, okay?” Sirius leaned over into Finn’s field of view. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you. This team wouldn’t be the same without you. I wouldn’t be the same without you. We need you to take care of yourself, Harzy.”

Finn nodded silently and Sirius gave his hand a quick squeeze, which he returned. “Does everyone know?”

“I told them you were under the weather, nothing more.”

“Classic media answer.” He tried and failed to crack a smile. “Thanks for not telling on me.”

“That’s not my job. My job is herding cats on ice skates for five hours a day.”

Finn’s smile was real that time and he managed a light laugh as he swiped away the dampness on his cheeks. “Love you, man.”

“Love you, too.” Sirius helped him stand up and hugged him tight for a second before letting go. “Speaking as someone who used to do the exact same thing, talking to Heather makes a world of difference.”

“I’ll give her a call.”

The cold feeling returned to Finn’s gut when they stepped out of the office; Leo and Logan were waiting by the opposite wall, looking angrier than Finn had ever seen. Sirius patted his shoulder once before walking off down the hallway toward the locker room, where he would no doubt deflect even more questions.

“Hey,” Finn said, barely above a whisper. Logan continued to stare at the ground.

“You lied to us,” Leo said bluntly. “Several times. Both of us asked if you were alright and you told us you were fine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I accept your apology, but I don’t understand.” He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Finn, this isn’t how we deal with things. We agreed to be a team.”

Finn bit his lip. I fucked this one up. “We did. I am so sorry for scaring you—”

“We’re not mad that you scared us,” Logan snapped, still looking anywhere but his face. “We’re upset that you refuse to take care of yourself and then lied to us about it.”

Leo nudged Logan’s shoulder before turning back. “Why did you do that, Finn?”

“I didn’t want to fall behind. I was just trying to make up for the set I skipped on Monday.”

“What? Twenty squats and some pushups? That’s not worth your health, honey.” The pet name soothed the terror clutching Finn’s heart and he took a deep breath. They still loved him. This wasn’t the end.

“It was a stupid thing to do and it won’t happen again.”

“Good. Let’s go home.” Logan grabbed his duffel bag off the ground and started walking toward the door; Leo looked like he was going to say something, but Finn gently took his elbow.

“He’s going to need a minute,” he said under his breath. Logan was a hothead about many things, but lying was in the top three. Finn knew he hurt him deep.

“Did you…” Leo trailed off and pressed his lips together as they followed Logan into the parking lot. “Did you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”

Finn shook his head. “No. This was all on me.”

“It’s just that I know I’m younger than both of you and I’m new to the hockey lifestyle, but I never want you to think you can’t trust me—”

“Leo.” Finn stopped walking and tugged on Leo’s hand, turning him around. Worry was painted all over his face and it sliced to Finn’s core. “I trust you and Logan with everything, but I got into my head about this and I wasn’t thinking about how it would hurt you. Please believe that.”

Leo sighed. “I do. I just don’t get it.”

“Neither do I, to be honest.” Logan was already sitting in the car with his headphones on as they crossed the lot. “It’s going to take him a while to talk to me, isn’t it?”

“He was really upset.”

“We’ll figure this out.” He tightened his grip on Leo’s hand. “We’ve made it through worse.”

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

The apartment crackled with tension until Finn literally had to stick his head out the open window to get a breath of fresh air. Waves of frustration and hurt rolled off Logan, though he still refused to look Finn in the eyes.

After dinner, Leo slid into the armchair before Logan could get there, leaving only the couch available. They carefully sat on opposite sides—Finn stole glances at Logan out of the corner of his eye for the entire first half of the movie. Ninety minutes of action later, he felt something chilly poking at his calf.

Logan kept his gaze trained on the TV as he scooted his freezing toes under Finn’s legs. Relief flooded Finn’s veins; he felt a little like crying, but instead schooled his expression into a small smile and rested his hand on Logan’s ankle, where it stayed until the movie ended.

Leo had fallen asleep by that time, splayed out sideways on the cushion with his face smushed against the armrest. “Il est mignon,” Logan said softly. There was a beat of silence and he looked over at Finn. “He’s cute.”

“He is.” Finn cleared his throat and met his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lo. I never meant to hurt you, but I did, and I’m sorry.”

“Promise me you won’t do that again.”

“I won’t.”

Finn had a few bad habits, but backing out on his promises would never be one of them.

[nocturnaldivinationsfallingstars]

A Stray Bullet Part 5

Fandom: Gotham Characters: Victor Zsasz, female!reader, James Gordon. Warnings: Swearing, mentions of someone dying in a car accident.  Summary: The reader is James Gordon’s sister and works for the GCPD and is dating Victor Zsasz. The reader has kept it a secret from her brother, until one day when she takes a bullet that was meant for him. Victor then shows up at James’ place to see the reader. Word count: 3689 A/N: I had to re-work the ending to this part as I added new parts to it.

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other a couple of times to relieve the pain you were starting to feel from having been standing for far longer than your body wanted you to be, your head hung low with your eyes cast to the dark wooden floor. You were staring at a spot where a shard of glass had slipped between the grooves of two bits of wood, finding it interesting all of a sudden. Balling your hands into fists by your side and then relaxed them, wiggling the stiffness from your fingers to expel the tension. You thought about all the ways you could possibly answer his persistent questioning on the subject. You could always tell him the unbridled truth about your relationship with Victor, of course, you’d omit more than a few private details about the matter. But realistically, what good would telling him the complete truth really do? Apart from causing an explosive argument to break out between the two of you, and even then he’d insert himself more forcibly into your personal affairs.

James hadn't always been that way, he used to give you some semblance of privacy when growing up. In fact, he had only been this way since your father had been killed in the car accident with a drunk driver a good few years ago now. Inserting himself into your life whenever something dangerous came along, becoming overprotective and doing whatever he could to make sure you're safe. When he became a detective at the GCPD it only seemed to amplify his need to keep you safe, and while it was sweet knowing that your brother is always going to be there, you felt as if it was a bit too much.

And well, Victor Zsasz just so happened to be 'something dangerous'. James' reaction to you dating the famed hitman that quite literally shot you would set off a rather volatile reaction. There was no way for you to predict how he would act. Not to mention he had a temper that needed to be kept in check, which he was doing so well with.

This meant James needed to know all about it, right? So he doesn't lose his temper? He should know, he's your brother after all and not to mention you usually told him everything. The good and the bad, well to an extent. This was different, more personal and gave way to more chances for James to lash out at you or Victor or both. It wasn't as if you could keep putting it off, since he'd find out about it sooner or later. Later would be a huge mess, however, telling him sooner could be just as bad. Perhaps you could settle on telling him half-truths? It wouldn't make him angry if you let some details slip while keeping the key ones close to your chest.

The most difficult part was trying to mentally convince yourself to do it. To tell him the truth, no matter how angry he is going to be about you keeping it a secret. Or at the very least to give him something small to go off of, anything at all to keep him from questioning you further. The choice was hard to make, but it needed to be made, and you were the only one who could make it.

With a firm nod of your head at your decision to tell him half-truths, your tongue shot out between your lips as you tilted your head to the side and finally managed to tear your gaze away from the glass shard between the floorboards and over to the couch where James currently resided. His arms crossed over his chest still, tapping away at his upper arms with his fingers impatiently, waiting for you to answer. You could tell he wanted to ask again and if you didn't give an answer he was going to be displeased with you.

"Okay," you breathed out to calm yourself, flexing your hands once more. "Grace was right, I am dating someone." You begrudgingly admitted in the hopes that the thick and heavy tension that fell around you and James like a thick blanket of smoke within the last couple of minutes would clear, and give way to something that would make breathing feel less like a chore than it seemed to feel like in this very moment. 

Finally, admitting your secret to your brother seemed to make little to no difference, if anything it felt as if the tension had got far worse between you and James. It felt it coiled around your chest like a boa constrictor choking out its prey, making it exceptionally hard for you to breathe. You felt the full weight of your anticipation towards his reaction resting heavily on your shoulders, making you feel like it was getting harder to breathe.

You were hoping to blame the sudden feeling of weakness that began to wash over you on the fact that you've been shot twice and not on the fact that you've started to really worry. Your fingers curled and uncurled multiple times at your side, then pressed the palms of your hands against your thighs and stared at him. Waiting, watching for any hint of surprise, annoyance, anger, just anything to show you what he’s feeling.

"You're dating someone?" he asked, his gruff voice gaining your attention before you could allow your mind to wander. There were no underlying negative emotions as he spoke to you, still the tension remained and was in no way alleviated. In fact, it felt far more stifling now than moments ago when you admitted your secret aloud.

"Yes, I am." you answered in a low voice that's barely above a whisper. A single nod was all you could manage, taking a slow and small step backwards so that the back of your legs hit the soft cushions of the couch behind you. You automatically sat down as soon as you felt them, your hands going to your hap where you intertwined your fingers and rubbed your left thumb with the pad of your right nervously.

You averted your gaze, there was no way you could bring yourself to look at him. Not only that, but you could sense the disappointment dripping in his voice and radiating off of him, he tried his best to hide it, but you could still sense it. "Who is it?" he demanded, his voice raising even though he tried to fight the anger that boiled in his veins. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see his knuckles starting to turn pale from how hard he's gripping at the fabric of his jacket.

Oh, how you regretted the words that came from your mouth.

A grim look darkened the features of your brother, who is very obviously irked about all the secrecy already. "Who is it?" The sound of his right foot tapping against the floor sent a shiver of worry down your spine as soon as you heard it. Somehow you missed the rapid movement of his leg bouncing up and down anxiously until now, and for a brief moment you allowed yourself to wonder about how you missed such a simple yet very noticeable action. However, that thought was soon dragged away from you when your brother grunted, thoughtful about his next words. "How long have you two been dating?" You could tell his anger was burning just beneath the surface of his skin, itching to get out, wanting to be known, but he had control over it. For now.

"A few months now," you had hoped that you'd never get to witness his full anger in your lifetime. However, you were clearly heading southbound to face it head on and be on the receiving end of it, none of which gave you much comfort right now. "I also can't tell you his name." You felt like you had been put under a microscope, almost as if all of your expressions, movements, etc, were being analysed for any hints of a lie. 

James sat next to you quietly and rubbed his wrist with his hand a couple of times before yet another grunt escaped from his throat, he pushed his jacket aside with his hands and then placed them on his hips. He pushed himself up from his place on the couch, "A few months?" He moved to stand in front of you, pausing a mere couple of seconds with his back facing you before he turned sharply with a burning gaze that made your skin crawl as the invisible flames licked at your flesh violently.

"Well, actually, if you want me to be more accurate, it is more like eight months." You corrected sheepishly, ducking your head and raising your shoulders to your ears, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

"Eight? Eight fucking months?" He said slowly to get his mind around the news. You nodded your head in response and sucked your lower lip between your front teeth. You didn't know if you should say something or not, so you settled for keeping your mouth shut. "Jesus - fucking - Christ, you've not only been dating someone for eight whole months without even so much as a word about it to me. But you can't even tell me his damn name." James ran his hands through his short brown hair, "or is it because you won't tell me? Hmm? Can't or won't tell me?" He said in an accusatory tone and extended his arm out in front of himself, pointing a large index finger at you. "Because I have got to admit; it doesn't feel like you're being entirely honest with me [Y/N]." With a puff of air, you pressed your lips together into a thin line. Finally, managing to gather the courage to look him in the eyes. You still can't bring yourself to tell him who you're dating, but at least you told him you're dating someone.

You reached up and slapped his hand from your face, "I won't tell you." You growled out through gritted teeth.

“Okay, fine,” he huffed out angrily and threw his hands in the air. “Keep being stubborn.

Rolling your eyes, you shifted your body to stretch out along the couch now that it was free. Your side and shoulder throbbed, the phantom pain of the bullets tearing through you made you shiver involuntarily, "Jim, I know you want to know who it is, but I do need some privacy in my life you know." You shot back, suddenly feeling less scared about his underlying anger issues.

"Okay, I get that. But what if they're dangerous? What then?"

You stared up at him, mulling the question over and hummed, "he could very well be dangerous." He shook his head in disbelief to your answer, you answered so calmly, like it was a normal day-to-day thing to talk about. You continued to stare up at him, jutting your lower lip out into a pout, and nodded your head in acknowledgement to his question. It wasn't like you were fully admitting that Victor was dangerous, however you received a dark look from your brother which made you choke back a small laugh of amusement at his attitude towards the whole thing.

“Can you stop joking around for one damn minute?!” James snapped at you out of frustration for the second time that day. “This is a serious discussion. 

There was no way you would joke about something like that when you told him that your boyfriend could be dangerous. After all, you knew very well that he was, but you found it exciting and hot. Not that you would admit that very personal fact to your brother, or Grace for that matter. You didn't want to deal with them judging you. "I wasn't joking when I said that, Jim. I was simply saying that knowing could be dangerous." You shrugged and paused, tilting your head to the side as the gears in your mind started to turn as you tried to think of something that would reassure your only surviving family. This time, however, your voice came out much quieter than before. "I can handle myself. Nothing bad will happen to me while I am with him.”

"Right," he murmured unconvincingly, his dark eyes drawn to the bloodied bandages wrapped around your shoulder and side, just peeking out from under the black fabric of your clean shirt. "And that's why you're here," he gestured your way, "because you can take care of yourself. Okay, yeah. Sure." It was clear that the way you held yourself, like a bird nursing a broken wing, did very little to convince him that you could take care of yourself. He didn't even need to say that you could barely walk and take care of yourself right now aloud, his unspoken point hung in the air between the two of you like an axe pendulum swinging violently ready to hit someone.

James waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss the conversation and blew a heavy breath of air from his lungs. "Just get some rest, we will talk about this in the morning. And you better give me answers."

"That was my plan," you yawned out. You felt exhaustion once again wrap its arms around you tightly. A small noise of satisfaction escaped your lips as you stretched your legs out in front of yourself, relieving the stiffness you felt in your joins. "You're not dad, Jim," keeping your tired dull eyes on your brother who turned his back on you and rolled his shoulders as he went to leave the living room with a quiet grumble about something you couldn't quite catch.

He had only just stepped foot out of the large living room when the loud generic ringtone of your phone rang out through the room, causing your breath to catch in your throat. "Who the hell is that?" James spun back around and stood in the alcove, his eyes scanning the room quickly for the locations of the sound. He most likely thought that he had dropped his phone in all the commotion from earlier, or perhaps Barbara had left hers here. You were hoping he didn't think it was yours and that he'd leave it and go straight to his room.

Your eyes darted towards your neatly folded trousers resting atop your boots and then back to your brother who followed your gaze with his eyes the next time you looked back over to where your phone lay. "[Y/N], who is that?" He repeated the question, taking a large step back into the room.

"That's Grace calling." you squeaked out. Of course, you were lying, Grace rarely called outside work hours. That was, unless it had to do with something important, like your case. You knew exactly who was calling you, and your brother apparently picked up on the lie as soon as it tumbled past your lips. He's always been good at picking up on your likes, and it was infuriating to say the least. The rise of your voice did nothing to make the lie any more believable to your brother’s ears.

"Is it him calling?" The question itself didn't give off the vibe of something you should be answering; it may as well be a rhetorical question since he already knows the answer. He was smart enough that he didn't need you telling him something he already knew. Instead, you chose to shake your head quickly, shooting up into a sitting where you instantly leaned forwards as if you're getting ready to race him to where your phone continued ringing kept coming from. Much like you and James would do while growing up and one of you wanted to use the landline before the other. His eyes narrowed at you as he watched the sudden shift in your body language.

You sat rigid on the edge of the couch cushion. Of course, it had to be Victor calling you, and now James knew that it's someone important to you. He rapidly closed the distance between himself and the location of your phone. Just as he swept your trousers up in his hands and started to search them, you lunged forward, and he turned his back on you, making you collide with his back. He pulled the phone out of the front pocket, but as soon as he did it stopped making a noise. James's brows raised as he looked down at the small square that lit up for the longest moment before it dimmed and went black.

"For the love of god, Jim! Can I please have my phone back?!" You sprang away from him and teetered back a couple of meters. You hoped to hell he would pass the phone back to you before Victor called again, which he would do since you didn't answer the first time around, and he must be worried about you after what happened at the GCPD. "Please?!" You clasped your hands together in front of yourself in a pleading gesture as he turned to you, phone in hand.

“It is him, right?” James asked again, at this point you were getting tired of the repetitive questions. He pressed you for an answer because deep down he knew he was right.

"Yes. It is him." You answered curtly through gritted teeth. Your fingertips and nails pressed into the skin of your knuckles so hard it was beginning to hurt and put strain on your fingers.

A playful smirk made its way onto James's lips as his eyes darted down to the small screen on the front of your phone, the screen still black since last time. "Does he call you every night?" He hooked the corner of his thumb under the lip of the phone and flipped it open with ease to reveal the screen, which cast a white and blue hue of light over his face. His thumb hovered over the buttons that are far too small for his giant man thumbs, returning his curiosity filled eyes back to you.

"No." An obvious lie. “He doesn’t call me every night.” Another blatant lie.

Humming thoughtfully, he pressed the dark grey button in the middle of a small cluster of buttons to bring up the other options on your phone. His eyes darting back and forth between you and your phone as he pressed the smaller arrow keys surrounding the grey button until he landed upon the call log. "Jim!" You snapped at him, tearing your hands apart to reach out and snatch your phone from his grasp, but he pulled his hand away with a click of his tongue.

"I am not doing anything," he teased, the smirk on his face only growing wider with the way you're acting, like it amuses him. You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest, stamping your foot on the floor like a child being told they couldn't have any more candy before going to bed.

"Relax, I am just playing with you." He sighed out and was about to press one of the buttons when the small black phone in his hand buzzed to life, the screen lighting up and garnering his attention again. The words 'V calling...' displayed on the screen. "Hello?" James shot you a questioning look as he pressed the green button alight on the keypad without hesitation, picking up in mere seconds of the melody starting up. "Hello?" He asked again, pulling the phone away from his ear and looking at the small object in confusion.

Reaching out again, you took advantage of him being distracted and took your phone away from him. "Stop being a fucking jerk, Jim!" yelling angrily at him as you slammed the phone closed to end the call. You could only imagine the look on Victor’s face when your brother answered instead of you. James held his hands up, his brows furrowing.

"Your friend or boyfriend didn't even answer." He told you, lowering his hands as you stood there glaring at him. "And who is V?" You rolled your eyes, curling your fingers around the casing of your phone, holding it to your protectively.

"He didn't answer because you answered my phone and not me." You said defensively, "and it’s honestly none of your damn business who 'V' is! You need to stop acting like dad and more like my fucking brother. Not only that, but you need to let me have my own damn life!" That came out sounding a lot harsher than you intended it to, so you slapped your free hand over your mouth in a failed attempt to keep the words in. Obviously it was too late, and the damage was already done. You stared at him with wide, worry-filled eyes. 

James nodded and took a step back to give you some space, an apologetic look on his face. "I am just concerned about you. And I am trying to keep the only family I have left safe and alive." With that he turned and walked away, leaving you standing in the middle of the living room with your hand over your mouth staring after him. You only dropped your hand from your mouth when you heard the click of the light switch and the light went out throughout the apartment. "Just get some sleep," he called back to you before slamming the door to his room shut.

Shuffling backwards while being as careful as you could be as to not step on the remnants of glass scattered across the floor, you sat back down on the soft couch cushions and leaned back. Your eyes adjusted to the surrounding darkness, you could almost make out a few shapes here and there, a couple of shadows as well.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered out after him. You pulled the scratchy grey blanket from the back of the couch and over your shoulder, covering your lap with it. You felt bad for what you said to him, you didn’t mean to sound so harsh when you said it.

Tag list; @sunlitwritings​, @nheirei, @the-ramblings, @milly-louise

[applejuizz]

laughter of youth.

the scout regiment has managed to rescue eren and recover annie’s crystal from their enemies, yet at the cost of many soldiers’ lives. levi learns a valuable lesson of trust. characters: levi ackerman x gn! reader (platonic!), historia reiss, sasha braus, jean kirstein, mikasa ackerman, eren jaeger, connie springer warnings: canon violence (vague descriptions), mentions of blood/wounds word count: 1.764 inspired by attack on titan 2: final battle and the story of “our man”, the customizable in-game character.

Paperwork after paperwork after all the paperwork...

Levi had come to dread the sound of hasty footsteps pacing up to his wooden office door and its prolonged creak as Miss Four Eyes allowed themselves in carrying yet another pile of experiment reports, barely containing their unreasonable excitement. While they fervently sought the tiniest free space to fit the monstrosity held in their arms, their flow of Titan anatomy ramblings never ceased.

Levi, you won’t believe what Eren managed to do today...!

Victor - who the hell is Victor? - stood awake the whole night and was as energetic as ever in the morning! This new breed of Titans is quite interesting!

I keep naming these Titans and I won’t shut up already and I should slap myself before you kick me across the fields, Levi! - he couldn’t possibly describe the joy these words would bring him coming out of Hange’s mouth. Too good to be true, unfortunately.

He shifted into his chair, straightening his back and shaking off the annoyance that had been constantly pulling on his nerves for three days already.

Thankfully, his office was quiet and the hallway was blissfully empty. Hange had taken a day off from experiments to let Eren rest. On that note, Jean and Eren had stopped arguing for once, Sasha had ceased her relentless search of meat and he could finally relish in the silence surrounding him. It wasn’t often that he got to have such quiet moments to himself.

And because they were so rare, only when he got the chance to savor them did he realize how much he actually hated them.

It wasn’t that he disliked being alone - on the contrary, he loved solitude a little too much for his own good. Instead, he found that whenever he allowed his mind to rest, he was assaulted by intrusive thoughts and memories that he’d rather bury deep in the back of his consciousness. Perks of being a soldier.

His eyes took in rows and columns of observations on the papers in front of him. His hand signed each and every one of them away promptly, yet his mind was drifting, conjuring up crimson fields, disgusting Titan flesh sliced in half, the blood-curdling screams of soldiers trampled off their horses or chewed to their demise. Nothing he wasn’t used to. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t make his skin crawl sometimes.

He thought back to commander Erwin, weak and thinning, laying in a hospital bed with only an arm left. Levi knew his superior was a strong man; he didn’t worry much about his recovery. What did plant the seed of doubt in his heart was the fact that somehow, the man he’d thought nearly invincible had been so badly wounded, and that alone was a strong indicator of the deep shit they all were in.

And of course, the one member in his squad that had never returned from the battlefield hung dark and heavy over his consciousness, a shadow of guilt, the same damn story repeating itself over and over again. No matter how much he tried to avoid it, it came crawling back like an awful nightmare, looming over him along with the deaths of all the other people he has trusted and cared for. Isabel and Farlan, Petra, Eld, Günther, Oruo… and now them too.

I won’t die on you, sir!

Like hell you won’t.

Their promise rang in his ears as if trying to mock him. The shadows of his consciousness sneered at him: look what happens when you decide to trust people, you twerp. Should’ve known better. Haven’t you learned your lesson?

“Tsk.” He set the cup he’d mindlessly lifted back on his desk. The tea had gone cold. He’d have to ask someone to brew him another. Not exactly pleasant, but enough to distract him from the dark path his thoughts had gone onto.

Before he could even stand up from his chair, though, loud voices boomed from downstairs through the whole hideout and caused the floor beneath his feet to vibrate. They were followed by clattering of pots and Jaeger’s unmistakable yelling, obnoxious and over dramatic as always.

So much for his quiet moment.

With an exasperated sigh, Levi picked up his cup again and left his desk and the piles of papers behind, shaking off the last of his melancholy. These damn brats can’t get anything done without wrecking havoc first…

The kitchen was right beneath his office, so all he had to do was climb down the short flight of stairs, put the cadets back in their place, ask horseface to brew him some more tea and go back upstairs. Simple enough.

He came to the sight of Eren, Jean, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha and Connie all hunched around in a compact group, chattering loudly and all over each other. Historia’s dulcet tone surprisingly prevailed amongst deeper voices, although she was nowhere to be seen.

“Wait! You need bandages before anything else! The gash in your side isn’t looking good…”

“Yeah! You’ve literally been through hell and back!” Jean marvelled.

“No, guys! They need food!” Sasha exclaimed as if she'd made a grand discovery, grabbing a half-boiled potato straight out of the pot.

“Sasha, no! The potatoes aren’t done yet-”

“Oi, what the hell is going on here?!”

“C-Captain Levi!” Jaeger stumbled back on his feet, broom in his hands, his headscarf sitting askew on his head. The huddle immediately dispersed, everyone had gone dead silent. Levi scanned the room quickly, not paying much attention to the soldiers’ faces and rolled his eyes.

“I thought I told you to clean up the kitchen, not turn it into a pigsty!” He passed a critical hand over the table, gathering up the dust in his palm and making a grimace. Cleaning supplies, pots and cups were scattered all over the floor and the table, as if the cadets had all come to a mutual agreement of dropping everything at once just to see how many white hairs Levi would gain in his hair.

“B-but-”

“Get back to work and stop yelping, you’re turning my brain into mush.”

But before he could open his mouth to bark another order at Jean, his eyes finally landed on who was once the centre of the huddle: Historia Reiss holding on to a hunched figure’s arm, obviously attempting to provide support, but ending up resembling more of a lost puppy clinging to someone’s sleeve.

“Captain Levi!” the petite girl exclaimed, a hint of relief present in her voice, “I-I went to get water from the fountain and I found them there! They seem stable, but I think they might need a doctor-”

His thoughts were running at light’s speed, yet he couldn’t get his body to wake up from its frozen state at the bottom of the stairs. What must’ve only been seconds felt like hours. As if time had decided to finally slow down, to finally stop the nonsensical blurry of days, months, years passing by only to give him a chance to breathe. A chance to understand. Was it just too good to be true?

“Captain…?” Springer trailed off, eyes bulging out of his little bald head, and quickly recoiled as Jean subtly elbowed him in the stomach. Only then did Levi notice that he had been standing among the shattered porcelain of what used to be his teacup, his hand still hanging in the air as if clinging to the ghost of the object.

The cadet finally raised their eyes from the floor, face bloodied and battered, yet still brightened by youth and devotion.

“Captain Levi… sir.” They saluted in a weak voice, raising two fingers to their temple.

Their last name rolled off Levi’s lips in a stronger tone than he thought he’d manage, yet still trailed off a bit in disbelief. Clearing his throat, he stepped over the broken porcelain.

“So. You came back, huh?” Out of all the words piled up on the tip of his tongue, begging to spill out, the best he could come up with was a rhetorical question. But the soldier still let out a dry chuckle, straightening their back as much as their wounds allowed them to. Their legs wobbled and the Ackerman girl, who had been quietly watching from the sidelines, immediately jumped in to offer extra support. Seeing the usually stone-faced Mikasa’s facial expression filled with a flurry of emotions similar to those churning in his heart allowed him to relax a bit.

“Of course.” The wounded cadet answered. “I made a promise, didn’t I?”

Levi gave a slight nod, features stoic, yet he felt his heart grow with pride in his chest. The same glint of determination glowed in their eyes as it did back then, during their rookie days, when they had placed their fist over their heart and had sworn to stay alive. He had heard the same promise come out of so many of his dead comrades’ mouths that realistically, he shouldn’t have expected this particular soldier to honor it. Yet for some reason, unknown even to himself, he had chosen to place his fragile trust in them. Maybe it had been their thirst for revenge, or their sheer willpower which, dare he say, could surpass Eren’s; whatever it had been, he did not regret it.

He drew closer, steps light as feathers on the wooden floor and took advantage of their hunched position to card his fingers through their hair, ruffling it affectionately. These damn kids keep getting taller… he thought bitterly to himself. The gesture managed to transform their wince of pain into a look of total and innocent wonder. The look in the eyes of a kid who's just got the utmost gesture of validation from a parent.

“You’re a good kid,” he conceded, patting their scalp twice before letting his hand fall back to his side. He could barely recognize the gentle tone of his own voice. “Although were you not wounded, I’d have roundhouse kicked your ass for scaring everyone like this.”

The phrase hadn’t even been that funny, in his opinion, but they let out a joyous, loud laugh, contagious to the people around them. It even pulled a chuckle out of Mikasa.

And as he stood there in the kitchen, surrounded by the laughter of youth, he finally understood. Placing his trust in these kids, fighting alongside them, protecting them with the price of his life were worth all the risks because they were humanity’s last hope. And he would do anything to one day see their joyful faces wiped clean of crimson wounds and dirt and death. Anything.