#little man falls off counters so much he is so dumb

[the-real-list-of-ominous-threats]

I shall reduce your brain to that of an average orange cat

[eowynstwin]

peristalsis - i.

selkie!soap x reader. suicidal ideation. strangers to "lovers." . Running away from life to the Scottish Hebrides, you meet a man who won't leave you alone. . Masterlist. Ao3.

When your mother asks you if you’re planning to kill yourself, you have to lie to her.

To be fair to you, it’s a half-lie. You have no plans. Courage, you find, is as slippery as an eel in gloved palms—you don’t actually think you could do it if you tried. You’re deeply averse to pain of the bloody sort, and doing the deed would take a will and an energy you don’t really have.

But still. You’ve stopped looking both ways when crossing a street. You forget the stove is on, hot oil in the pan popping like the report of a handgun. The sound of shattering glass is the only thing that makes your heart sit calm in your chest, and the only thing that can make you fall asleep anymore is the notion that when you die, the earth will welcome the molecules of your body back into its folds.

So a half-lie is not the truth. You sit in the terminal, the afternoon smell of airport coffee in your nose as you swear to your mother that you’re not looking for a cliff to jump off of, or a convenient wave to pull you under. You’ve always wanted to visit Scotland, remember?

You can’t tell if she believes you. Probably not. People not planning to kill themselves don’t blow their savings on a first class ticket over the Atlantic with no scheduled return flight.

Especially not after quitting their job.

The flight over the Atlantic is uneventful. Quiet as money can buy. You sip champagne at your window seat, recline as far back as you can go, and watch the ocean, far, far below. Its depths exceed, you remember, the heights at which humanity can fly—but you can’t really tell, looking at it from so far above. It looks like nothing less than a thin veneer stretched overtop the crust of the earth. A puddle that could barely cover the soles of your feet.

There’s not a single murmur of turbulence across the fifteen hours you’re in the air. Much that you might’ve welcomed it.

Your connecting trip to the Hebrides is much shorter. The massive sprawl of Glasgow shrinks and recedes as you leave it behind, replaced not long after by a spit of an island chain that, from a distance, hardly looks worth populating.

You land on Barra, on a sandy stretch of beach still wet and compact from the receding tide. There’s a cottage here with your name on the rental agreement for the next month, and your mind is already there ahead of you, thinking about arranging your toothbrush and toothpaste on the bathroom counter and sitting and listening to nothing but cold island wind in the grass. The cottage’s owner has graciously agreed to drive you there.

When you step off the plane, you miss him at first. You’re expecting someone completely different—an older man in cable knit, perhaps more mustache than face, and the morose demeanor of someone for whom sunlight is as common on the island as veins of gold. So your eyes skip over the younger man, even despite the sign he’s holding with your name on it.

But then you look again. Because with a man like him, you can’t not look again.

He’s wearing a sweater, sure. But he also looks like a rugby team maverick—burly and tall, rugged, tattooed, flaunting a dumb haircut because he’s handsome enough to get away with it.

He stands out from the few people in the airport as if the whole world has adjusted its lens to bring him into focus, sharpening his image such that anything in his periphery is too blurry to notice. He does not in the slightest look like he rents out an old fisher’s croft in the least popular place in Scotland.

But then you catch your name. Do a double take. Clutch your suitcase handle a little tighter, because when you approach, the man’s eyes widen, look you up and down, and then crease with a too-confident smile.

“Bonnie!” he exclaims when you introduce yourself. He has a deep, rough voice, burred and low. More still, he’s kilted, plaid hanging at muscular knees, with an odd speckled pelt slung around his hips.

You’ve never seen that before—maybe it’s an islander thing.

“You must be Mr. John MacTavish,” you say. Up close, there’s a weathered look to him, as if buffeted by the salt in the wind.

“Johnny’s fine,” he says, winking. His eyes are a lively, vibrant blue. The color of the ocean in some place much nicer than this one. “Welcome to Scotland!”

Then, incredibly, “Johnny” pulls you into a hug before you even realize what’s happening, brawny arms closing around you like the noose of a snare. You go rigid—what the hell?—but this man, whom you have met only just now, doesn’t seem to notice, compressing you against the blazing pillar of his body in an embrace that flattens your lungs behind your ribs.

“Um,” you manage. He smells like axe body spray and diesel fuel, and cold ocean wind. It wipes the forefront of your mind blank, like sweeping an arm across drawings etched in sand.

After at least five whiplashed beats of your heart, Johnny pats your back several times and lets you go, grinning.

“Sorry, bonnie. Scots are huggers.”

Then without warning, he reaches for the handle of your suitcase, warm hand nudging aside your own. “Let’s get you down there ‘fore the tide comes in. Canny wait t’show you the place, I fixed it up m’self.”

You let him take your luggage and follow; he sets off at an energetic clip that you struggle to keep up with. He gestures with his free hand as he talks, motions rising and falling with the tenor of his voice.

“You know you’re m’first guest? Was startin’ to wonder if I was gonna have to sell the place, no one seemed all that interested. Guess I can see why, no internet, barely any signal. Me, I think that’s a good thing, people spend too much time on their phones, y’know?”

You make a noncommittal noise.

Were you this cold before he let go of you?

“But it’s a great little place to get away, I promise you, nice and quiet, and I updated everything m’self. Radiator in the bedroom and everything!”

Another noise from you.

Thankfully, you reach his car—a small truck, older than the both of you, with only one row of seats and what looks like large spools of rope in the bed. Johnny pauses briefly to secure your suitcase beside them with a couple of bungee cords, and then opens the passenger side door for you to get in.

“It’s not too far from town too,” he continues as he slides into the driver’s seat. You attach your seat belt. He does not. “You got your essentials there. A supermarket—think you call ‘em grocery stores? There’s that and a cafe and a pub. No bank though, so let’s get cash now if you need it.”

“I have some.” You’d exchanged for a few hundred pounds in Glasgow.

“Good! You want to stop by the store? Took the liberty of filling up the fridge too, but if there’s somethin’ you want—”

“No,” you say.

“Alrigh,’” says Johnny.

You feel his eyes on you—when you look at him, he’s smiling again. You are not pleased to find, through the benefit of close proximity, that he has dimples.

“What?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothin,’” he says.

Johnny drives you across the causeway from Barra to Vatersay, the latter of which, he helpfully informs you, is populated by less than a hundred people.

“More wildlife than anything,” he comments, as the ocean outside the window passes by. The water is dull and gray, hidden from the sun by an overcast sky. “That’s what the tourists come for. You here to see the seals?”

“Seals?” you ask.

“Aye,” Johnny says, grinning. “They come here for breeding season.”

You ignore the quirk of his eyebrows.

The cottage stands alone, a ways out from the island’s main village at the top of a modest hillock. Island grasses sway along the dirt road as Johnny directs the truck upwards, coming to a stop a few meters away from the house proper.

It’s quaint. Thatch roof, cobbled walls. A generator hooked up on one side. There are flower boxes flanking the front door, although nothing’s in bloom; it’s the wrong season for it. The window frames are unpainted, and the glass panes, despite looking recently cleaned, are crusted with salt at the corners.

And it’s smaller than it looked in the pictures online. Even close up to it, the blue-grey sky overhead, swimming with dun-colored clouds, swallows it up.

You exit the truck into a cold breeze that tugs at the collar of your fleecy sweater. You’d read online that this time of year was the last gasp of summer into the autumn months in the Hebrides—it hardly feels that way, with the chill that drags its fingers across your hairline.

“It’s on a septic tank so y’ve got alright plumbing,” Johnny goes on, hefting your suitcase over one brawny shoulder. “Canny say much for the water pressure in the shower, but other than tha’ it’s alright. Matters more that it’s hot, ‘f you ask me—and it is! Come on, I’ll give y’the tour.”

The cottage is not big enough to warrant one. Johnny shows you the four rooms—kitchen, sitting room, bathroom, and bedroom—in under five minutes. It ends with him leaned up against the counter, arms folded genially across his plush chest, grinning at you like he knows some embarrassing secret of yours.

“Was thinkin,’” he says, scratching the stubble on his jaw with one thumbnail, “this’d be kind of a honeymoon thing, y’know? That woman with the time travel show, lots a’folks been comin’ here lately ‘cause a’her.”

“Is there anything else to do here besides look at seals?” you ask.

Soap gazes at you through half-lidded eyes, smirking. “I dinnae think you leave the bedroom much on a honeymoon, do you?”

You flush. “I never really thought about it.”

“So you’re no’ married, then?”

“No. Not—not interested.”

Johnny lifts one brow. “In marriage?”

“In anything.”

He keeps fucking smiling. You have a barely controllable urge to smack him; you settle for wringing the hem of your sweater, imagining it could be his neck.

“So what brings y’here, then?” he asks, tilting his head like a cat playing with its food. “If no’ a honeymoon?”

You frown.

The truth is, of course, that nothing brought you here. Vatersay, nor the Hebrides, nor Scotland itself were actually of any consequence. You’re ambivalent about the ocean, and you certainly don’t care about seals.

You just hadn’t been able to think of anything you wanted when you asked yourself that perennial question. You wanted nothing.

You wanted nothing.

So you found as much nothing as you could and bought the soonest first class ticket heading toward it.

Your only stipulation had been no language barrier—so here you are now, cursing the lack of such, because it means this man, who belongs on this island no more than you do, is bothering to try and talk to you.

“Just wanted some peace and quiet,” is what you decide to say.

“Needed a change, aye?” Johnny nods sagely, as if understanding. “I did too, when I came here. Was in the army. Special forces.”

“O-okay,” you say, because you hadn’t asked.

“Didnae plan to stay,” he continues.

He turns his head to look out the kitchen window; on one temple is the ghost of a scar. A starburst-ripple in the shaved side of his dark hair—nothing more.

But something about it suggests that the wound it closed around was a horror to behold.

Then he turns back to you, the corners of his mouth quirked. “But somethin’ about this place is hard to leave.” The quirk turns into another smarmy grin “Bet when your month’s up, you’ll know what I mean.”

It seems rude to say probably not. “Maybe.”

The radiator in the kitchen breathes a swell of warm air through the room, blooming with Johnny’s diesel-and-ocean scent. There’s very little space between you, him against the counter, you across from him at the sink. Johnny’s bulk claims what little room there is to maneuver, and if you tried to move away, it would require first moving closer.

“So,” you begin.

“Here,” he intercedes. “Wanna show you somethin.’”

The only reason you comply is because he leads you outside, which is a step closer to him finally leaving you alone. Johnny circles around the cottage, revealing a footpath that leads down the hill. The ground transitions from soil to sand as you both walk; the wind picks up as the sound of waves grows. Eventually you reach what turns out to be a small cove, hidden by the curve of the island, flanked on both sides by cliffs of only middling height.

The tide is only now making its way in; probably why you hadn’t realized it was here earlier. You think you’ll be able to hear the waves when you go to sleep tonight.

“Oh,” you say, unable to hide that it’s impressed you.

“Yeah,” Johnny replies, smug. “All yours. Come down whenever you like. Dinna recommend skinny dippin’ this time a’year, though.”

You look at him, intending some sort of flat response, but what you see stops your words up in the chamber of your throat.

There’s something…different about him. There’s a sharp glint in his eyes that wasn’t there before. A dangerous cant to the angle of his grin. He suddenly feels very real to you—

Like standing in front of a wild animal.

Realizing, at the same time it does, that there is no barrier between it and you.

He looks you up and down. He doesn’t even try to hide it; too-blue eyes jaunt from yours down to your throat, the span of your shoulders, lingering on your chest before drifting down your stomach and hips. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, shoulders lifting as his chest expands, and you get the strange sense that he’s trying to smell you.

The ice that slithers through your veins, drips down the rigid column of your spine, wars with the spike of heat that breaks across your face. You feel here. You feel very present, your heart pumping wet in your chest, electrical wisps zipping to every nerve ending and back up your cerebellum to remind your brain of every part of your existing body.

Suddenly you are in Scotland, thousands of miles away from home, freezing fucking cold, only half of all the money you have in the world left in your bank account. Tomorrow stretching out in front of you. The next day after it.

Panic, which you thought buried, turns over in your belly, grave-dirt too light to keep it down. Hard earth is beneath your feet. A light drizzle is starting overhead. You begin to shiver, your nervous system’s effort to warm your hairless mammal body up, to save you from the cold and the wet and the fucking predator standing two paces away from you while gazing at you like it can’t wait to break your bones open for the marrow inside.

“Okay,” you finally snap, though you’re unable to keep your voice from quivering. “I really appreciate you driving me, Johnny, but—”

His eyes flash. The ocean-depths of them shift with an awareness beyond your ken, the dark edges deepening, the vivid blue swirling. The expression on his face transmutes into something unknowable—like the difference between the look on a pet dog’s face and a wolf’s.

Something isn’t there that should be, and what is in its place is entirely unfamiliar.

What is in its place is something your species evolved long past being able to understand.

Then, as quickly as it appeared, the flash is gone. Johnny is human again, as if he had always been in the first place. The thin crows’ feet at the corners of his eyes crinkle, as he gives you what he probably thinks is a sympathetic smile.

He doesn’t seem able, or perhaps willing to hide how amused he is, though.

“Long flight, I know,” he croons, meeting your gaze again. “Dinna worry, bonnie, I’ll let you get your rest.”

Whatever you were about to say dies. Your mouth hangs open. Johnny backs away from you, hands casually in his pockets.

“I’ll take you to see the seals tomorrow!” he calls to you before he turns away. A sudden gust ruffles the pelt hanging around his hips. “I know all the best spots.”

He throws you a casual wave, and then disappears over the rise.

You do hear the waves that evening, when you lay down to sleep. The covers are soft over you, cozy and warm even as the ocean wind hums outside.

You can’t stop shivering.

next

a/n: last fic of the year (probably)! i'm so into this one tbh. i figured out the ending a while ago and i'm so dang excited to get to it.

[starboye]

pairing: logan howlett x male reader

summary: logan fucking you senseless

warnings: smut, cursing, knife play (but with his claws)

you can't even remember how you got here, logan fucking into you lick you're a worthless fleshlight while your face is slammed into the pillow moaning out his name, it started off as some innocent kisses while you were cooking dinner, then it escalated to making out on the counter, which then brought you here to getting your hole destroyed by the man.

"ngh fuck logan" you moan loudly into the pillow feeling logan graze the good spot in you "yeah look at this pretty hole taking me so well, s'like it was made for me" logan smiles cockily watching you fall apart under him "and you love my dick so much right baby" logan ask grabbing your hair to pull your face out of the pillows.

"yes daddy i love it so much" you moan out tightening around him "call me that again" logan asks with a grunt, the word daddy from your mouth was like a prayer from an angel "please fill my hole with your cum daddy" you whimper and you could feel his dick twitch in you from those words, he was close to cumming.

"so fuckin' pretty f'me" logan mutters to himself, dropping the grip on your hair making your fall back into the pillows as his hands move to knead and feel your ass "you want me to fill you up" logan asks, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder, wanting to fuck the cum into you.

"mhm please daddy" you nod holding onto the bed for stability as logan fucks you dumb "fuckkk" logan roars out as he cums in you, throwing his head back, his hands leaving bruises on your waist and his claws unsheathing just a little, poking you in the side making you wince.

"goddamn" logan huffs coming down from his high and animal like urges "you okay" logan softly asks rubbing your shoulder, your body weak and covered in sweat "mhm peachy" you nod slowly feeling your senses come back "wanna go finish making dinner" he coos "yeah in a minute i just need to get the feeling of my legs" you huff making logan snicker.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09

©starboye productions

[seungfl0wer]

*𝐵𝒶𝓇 𝐵𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝓎*

Pairing: Biker!Minho x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, Oral (M), Outdoors Sex, Unprotected, Pull out game (wow not a Creampie? What is this?) think that’s it. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings

-🖤

Minho was a regular at your bar, he always came in sitting away from everyone. He kept to himself however always flirted with you. It was cute, he was cute. However you were in a relationship.

“So gonna let me take you for a ride beautiful?” He’d ask.

“I don’t know, let me ask my boyfriend” you’d tease back.

This is how it always went, he never pressured you. Never did anything to make it feel weird. He was always respectful. Today when he came in he asked you like normal but when you responded he was taken back.

“So you ready for that ride today?” He’d said wiggling his eyebrows.

“I get off in 30” you said smiling but acting like you were cleaning the counter.

He looked at you puzzled for a second “wait really?” He asked.

“Yeah, unless you’re to chicken now since I said yes” you’d teased.

“What about your boyfriend?” He asked.

You pointed to a booth, a man who was tongue deep with a woman. “Looks like I don’t have one anymore” you shrugged.

His eyes went wide “I’ll kick his ass that little-“ he started as he got up.

“Don’t bother, he’s not even worth it. He’s dumb enough to come here. Out of all places” you laughed.

Minho was almost confused on how much you didn’t care. Maybe it was something that was coming for a long time. Or maybe it was the fact after seeing this you lost any feeling you had for him when you saw him cheating. Either way Minho wasn’t gonna waste the opportunity. Not when he’s found you attractive for so long.

He stayed at the bar like normal staring at you a little harder than he normally did. When your shift was up he handed you his helmet telling you he’d rather have you protected than him. When you walked out with him your ex got up realizing you were here today. “Y/n!” He yelled. He ran outside after the two of you as you got on the back of Minhos bike.

“What the hell are you doing!” He said walking towards you.

“Sorry I don’t date cheaters” you say with a wave as Minho revved his engine. You wrapped your arms around him giving him butterflies. Before you knew it he was speeding off. It felt freeing. You’d missed so many opportunities to do this and for what? A cheater?

You held onto Minho tightly as he tuned to pull off into a gas station. He tapped your head to take off the helmet. “I gotta give you a little run down real quick.” When you nodded he continued. “So turns you gotta move your body with mine ok? Gotta move the weight with the bike. You can hold onto the small handles on the back too. Also if you keep squeezing me like that we are gonna have a problem” he said his tone teasing with that last part.

You blushed a bit but everything right now felt exciting. You were definitely gonna test the waters. When you got back in the road you let your hands slip lower. Letting them rest on thighs. You felt his body tense a bit before relaxing into your touch. You took it as a sign moving them up more until they were inches away from his crotch.

You couldn’t hear anything but he let out a sigh his cock growing harder by the minute. He saw a sign for a hiking trail turning onto the road knowing no one would be there at this time. When he pulled in you were a bit confused taking off your helmet to look at him. “You gonna murder me out here?” You joked.

“Oh totally, definitely didn’t pull off cause of someone’s hands.” He teased back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you said innocently.

He turned your body on the bike making sure you wouldn’t fall. Putting the stand down before pulling your body to his. You could feel how hard he was against you. “I told you we’d have a problem didn’t I?” He said with a smirk.

He put his hand under your chin your faces inches away from one another’s. Neither of you moved for a few seconds before you broke the silence “you gonna kiss me or just keep staring” you said. The smirk that spread across his face was enough to make you wet. God was he ever so hot. He wrapped your legs around him as he kissed you deeply. His lips were as soft as they looked, they felt like little pillows. He tasted like the alcohol he was drinking with a hint of mint from his gum.

His hand came down to your waist as he grinned his cock into you. You let out a soft moan into the kiss letting his tongue slide in. He kissed you with such need before pulling away slightly “god I’ve wanted you for so long” he said almost desperately.

“I’ve actually had a- recurring dream of you” you admitted.

“Yeah? Tell me”

“You sat on your bike while use my mouth” you said a bit shyly.

He stared at you like you just said the hottest thing in the world to him “let’s make it a reality then” he said moving away from you to get into position. He slipped his pants down a small bit letting his painfully hard cock finally spring forward. Your mouth almost watered at the sight of him.

You inched yourself closer to him kissing the tip of his cock. Slowly licking it before taking him back your throat. His hands gripped at your head before pushing back as far as he could. “Gonna let me use this pretty mouth of yours?” He asked. You nodded looking up at him with soft eyes. Ugh how were you so fucking hot he thought to himself. He fucked your mouth slowly quickly getting lost in the feeling. “Fuck you’re taking me so well beautiful” he groaned. He was using your mouth like a flesh light. Fucking into it a little rougher now “fuck- fuck-“ he moaned pulling himself from you.

“Come here” he said positioning you on his bike. He had you bent over the seat. He slipped your pants down just enough. Before moving the tip of his cock up and down your now soaked folds. “All this for me?”

“Yes- all for you” you groaned.

He wasted no time before slowly pushing into you. His body almost trembled at the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in. He gripped at your thighs as he pushed into you fully cock hitting your most sensitive spots. “Y/n fuck- you- ah- feel so good” he moaned out.

You gripped at the bike as he pounded into you the sounds of sex and moans filing the woods that surrounded you. His hand left your hip coming around to play with your clit. He rubbed circles around it, it was like he knew your body already. “Beautiful I’m sorry- I’m not gonna last- ah- fuck-“ he moaned out.

“It’s ok- ah- I’m- I’m close too” you moaned back.

“Cum with me- please- shit I’m- I’m so close” he said his thrust becoming sloppier and sloppier.

His fingers found your weak spot moving over it making your body shake. “I’m- cumming!” You screamed your orgasm creeping up on you faster than expected. Your walls tightened as you came making him pull out cumming on the ground below him. “Fuck- fuck-“ he moaned.

He pulled your body to his holding you tightly against him. “Are you ok?” He asked breathily.

“Mhm. Just. A little cold” you said back.

With no hesitation he took off his leather jacket wrapping it around you. “How about we go back to my place? We can.. cuddle” he said with a shy smile.

“That sounds perfect”

After that day Minho came to pick you up from work every night. Finally making it official after a week. He even scared your ex away that tried showing up at the bar after you blocked him. You wished you did this way sooner but he was finally yours now and he wouldn’t let you go even if you wanted.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[the-witty-pen-name]

Little Glimpses

Igor (Anora) x F! Reader

18+ Only Blog - Minors DNI

Warnings: smoking, alcohol consumption, cursing

Word Count: 2.5k

Notes: I have not been able to stop thinking about this man since I saw Anora. I just had little parts of stories in my head so I compiled them into one thing.

Little glimpses into the reader’s relationship with Igor.

Everything on the table shakes when the train passes by. You press your hand down, gently holding onto the crystal ashtray in front of you to stop it from dancing around. Your eyes feel heavy. So you tilt your head back, and rest them for a moment until the disruption subsides. You take a drag of your cigarette and exhale in the direction of the open window next to you- letting the smoke waft outside your small studio. Once everything stills, the only sound is the comforting tick of the clock above your stove. You take one final puff before dropping your butt into the ashtray. You watch it smolder as it slowly burns out. You need to get ready for your shift.

You hate your uniform. The bright blue polo shirt and the stupid matching visor- fucking stupid. You feel like you look like a moron and you’ve always found it embarrassing. You always took off the dumb thing when your manager went home for the night. No one comes in after midnight ever- the occasional drunk but they don’t care if you’re wearing your visor or not.

On the slow nights you read, or sometimes you’ll watch trashy reality TV on your phone. With your elbows perched on the counter, you flip through your most recent romance novel as the time passes. It’s well past 1am and the bright fluorescent lights buzz above you.

“Uh- $40 pump two, please,” a polite voice breaks your concentration. It makes you jump in surprise and you apologize quickly.

“Shit- uh, fuck sorry,” you fumble, quickly placing the book down, opened to keep your page. You take the cash he hands you as he offers a subtle smile.

“No need for apology,” he expresses, and you can now hear his accent- distinctly Russian, or maybe Armenian? You aren’t sure. His voice is soft and comforting- very kind. You’re immediately more at ease. He reads your name aloud from your name tag. It’s infuriating as much as it’s endearing.

“You’re all set,” you offer, suddenly shy. You pass him the receipt after it is printed. He nods, tucking it into his jacket pocket. You watch him walk back outside, the cold air wafting in as the bell above the door rings.

As he waits by the pump, he catches you watching him through the window of the store. When he meets your eye, he’s amused when you immediately look away- trying to play off like you weren’t looking the whole time. He’s flattered, and he can’t help but smile to himself. He’s not used to any sort of attention- he tends to go by unnoticed in his daily life. He can be intimidating when he tries- out of necessity, but that’s not him.

He’s so pretty, you observe, like James McAvoy you settle on. You avert your attention away for the final time and decide to turn back to your book and do your best to ignore the headache that’s developing under the store’s harsh lights.

It’s one of those passing crushes, at first. The kind like when you fall in love temporarily with a stranger across the grocery store. You play out the whole thing in your head to inevitably never approach them, go home, and let the cycle of daydream continue another day with another stranger.

---

You’re freezing as you stand on the sidewalk in the long line that has now wrapped around the block. Your ankles hurt from the height of your heels but they’re too cute not to wear. Your outfit is far too short and shows far too much skin for the night air, but in your defense- you and your friends didn’t imagine you’d be outside this long. Your entire body is covered in goosebumps as you wrap your arms around yourself to keep warm. Your friend offers you a cigarette which you accept gratefully as she places it in your mouth for you.

“Fuck!” you exclaim frustrated, “Why aren’t they fucking letting anyone in?” You peer over to try to see the front of the line, and you notice people towards the front are trying to reason with the club’s bouncer- who you immediately hate because you resent his hoodie and puffer jacket he wears to brace the cold. You think about how the moment you can step foot in, you’re making a beeline to the bar and getting a shot to warm up.

Someone, probably a promoter or something, emerges from the inside. He says something to the bouncer, you’re too far away to hear. The bouncer nods, and the guy starts walking down the line. He looks at the groups who are waiting, and he gestures to a few groups of just girls- you and your friends included- and ushers you all inside. You’re too elated to care as he’s saying something about needing to up the ratio of men to women blah blah blah. You quickly stomp out your cigarette and all you can think about is warming up.

You link arms with two of your friends as you head towards the inside, scurrying excitedly to get out of the cold. The bouncer nods to each group as they enter, but puts up an arm to stop you and your friends. “IDs,” he says, and you swear his voice sounds so familiar.

“C’mon man, we’re cold as shit,” your friend complains, letting go of your arm to retrieve her ID from her clutch. Looking in his direction, you immediately recognize him from the other day- the customer from your overnight shift. You aren’t sure if he would recognize you, you're positive you put more thought into the whole interaction than he did. You make eye contact and you swear for a moment he wants to say something, but he just stares. Realizing you decided to go without a bag, you bite your lip and mutter a silent “shit” as you need to pull your ID from your bra to hand to him. He says nothing, just nervously licks his lips as he takes your license.

“Thanks,” he says, handing them back. Your friends huff, and drag you inside. Your eyes linger on him as they pull you and you both watch each other until you disappear from view.

A remix of Von dutch is playing so loud and the club is packed. It’s completely dark except for the raving strobe lights that are synced to the beat of the music. You can’t hear anything over the screams of Addison Rae as your friends get a round of shots. You happily accept, tilting your head back. The burn is such a welcomed sensation to your freezing body. You let the crowd dictate where your body moves, letting yourself start to let loose.

A couple of hours later, you’re more than ready to get out of there. It was fun, but your friends have mostly paired off with men and you’re anticipating that soon they’ll be roping them into wherever the group decides to go next. You aren’t in the mood for another night of splitting a cab with one of your friends and whatever guy is going back to their place. You don’t need the reminder that amongst the group, you’re never the one getting the guy, you think pessimistically. You text your friends, lying about an early shift, and let them know you’re getting an Uber.

Standing outside, you’re freezing again, and it’s almost worse now that your body has been so acclimated to the warmth inside. You lean against the brick building and cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to warm yourself up.

“Here,” you hear him say, and you look up surprised, not realizing he was there. He offers you his jacket for you to take. “You need,” he insists. You offer a thankful smile and slip it over your shoulders. It smells like woodsy cologne and cigarettes. The warmth engulfs you and you swaddle yourself into the warm fabric.

“Thank you,” you say shyly. He nods and puts his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie. He pulls out a small pack of pre-rolls, and offers one to you. You accept and hold it between your fingers as he lights it for you.

“You probably don’t fucking remember me, but like, I think you got gas the other night at the uh place I work-”

“I remember.”

“Oh, okay-”

“You were reading a book and then what’s the word ‘ogled’ me? You ‘ogled’ me when you thought I wasn’t looking,” he teased.

“I was not ogling you!” you scoff, defensive. You can feel how warm your face is from his accusation. “It’s my job to make sure dumbasses aren’t gonna blow themselves up at the pump. It was purely a safety measure,” you lie obviously, making him laugh.

“Whatever you say,” he responds with a sly smile. You see a car start to pull up. Reluctantly, you unwrap yourself from his jacket and hand it back to him.

“Uh, that’s my Uber,” you explain and you swear he looks disappointed. He nods, accepting his jacket back.

“Can I call you?” he asks as the black sedan pulls up to the curb. You nod enthusiastically. He hands you his phone and you quickly text yourself.

“Uh that’s me,” you explain dumbly, cringing because duh. He just smiles, and it’s painfully sincere. You slide into the backseat of the car, and you can feel your phone buzz with a notification before you even finish putting on your seatbelt.

My name is Igor

---

You’re sitting on your couch as you lick the rolling paper to finish off your joint. A metal tv tray rests over your lap acting as your work station. You admire your work and then pass it to Igor, who accepts it without a word. You move the tray table to the floor so you can get comfortable, and you lean into his side as he lights the joint. The two of you share it, passing it back and forth between each other as your eyes are both focused on the TV.

It’s been a few weeks and your relationship with Igor has gone on undefined. Lines have been blurred and you can’t pin point if it’s the substances that are in your systems or if it’s just that when you’re with him, time feels like it stops- a hangout stretching into a couple days without you even realizing.

You don’t know what you’d call this. It’s not friends, and it feels much like it’s much more than casual. You assume it’s exclusive- you spend so much time together; there’s hardly any opportunities for him to see someone else. But there’s been no lines drawn, no labels given- he’s slotted himself into your life seamlessly like you’ve known him forever. His grandmother treats you like her own blood, taking an immediate liking to you. It all just works.

“What is this?” You ask suddenly, looking up at him. His eyes widen in confusion. He takes the joint out from between his lips, exhaling smoke.

“Maybe Idica, I don’t know,” he muses and you sigh in frustration at your inability to be direct.

“I’m sorry,” you laugh, hiding your face in your hands. “No, not that,” you clarify. “I meant like- you and me.”

“Oh, um,” he replies, mulling things over in his head before he speaks. “Whatever you want.”

“I don’t know what I want,” you answer honestly, and he nods understandingly, but you feel him clear his throat and you can feel him straighten his posture. You worry he misunderstood your meaning. “No, no- fuck. I made it weird,” you sigh, “I just meant like, I don’t want to mess it up by changing it. But at the same time, I don’t want you doing this with someone else- and I don’t want to do this with anyone else but you- you know?”

“I know,” he replies, he’s so patient and sweet about it. He kisses your temple and just lets you process. He’s so gentle like that, all the time. “I want the same,” he states simply. “Just us,” he reiterates, taking another hit and then passes the joint back to you.

“Just us,” you smile.

“So does this mean we’re uh, boyfriend girlfriend?” He teases and he laughs at how your nose scrunches in disgust.

“Gross,” you pretend to gag. You shake your head, like your trying to shake out the memory of him saying something so fucking cheesy. It makes him smile.

—

“He’s coming runnin’ runnin’ runnin’ runnin’ runnin’ runnin’,” you sing obnoxiously as Igor’s pulls up to the curb. “He’s coming. Ridin’ round town, they gonna feel this one.” You see his cheeks turn pink as he tries to not laugh.

“What the fuck is that?” He questions, walking around to open the passenger door for you.

“Oh my fucking god, dude. It’s Tyler the Creator- it’s IGOR’S THEME. Did you now know that? I’ve been doing that bit for like two weeks and you didn’t think to fucking look it up?” You laugh a little. You buckle up, and extend out your hand. “Give me your phone, you need to listen to it.”

Without hesitation, he passes his phone to you and then he pulls away from the curb slowly. You start the album from the beginning, and you settle back into your seat. You put his phone down in the cup holder and rest your head against the seat belt. It’s a comfortable silence as you both listen. As he drives, he rests his right hand comfortably on your thigh, his thumb making circles.

Anxiety is a tricky thing. As time passes, you begin to feel insecure for monopolizing the music. You start to feel guilty about the jab you made at Igor’s expense for not knowing this album. You begin to overthink everything, and the music playing starts to make you feel overexposed. And you begin to associate his silence with resentment.

“You can change it to whatever you want,” you say apologetically. He looks at you confused from the corner of his eye, only glancing over so he can focus on the road.

“But you like this?” He asks, puzzled.

“I don’t want to force feed stuff to you,” you try to explain, “I didn’t mean to make you sit through it.”

“I think it’s great,” he offers sincerely, “it’s good.”

“You don’t have to say that, just because I like it,” you counter, feeling insecure.

“I like the music,” he reiterates, “I like it, and I like it because it’s something you wanted to share with me.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I love when you share things with me,” he interrupts you before you begin to spiral. “Do it more often,” he says, encouragingly. He stops for the red light, and leans over to kiss you. “Please.”

He turns his attention back to the road as the light turns green and you can’t help but smile as you watch him turn the dial up.

PART TWO

[monarchberrysblog]

TOO SWEET

summary: you join a small ride along with Miguel...

content warning: once again, taboo content; proceed with precaution. semi-exhibitionism (miguel fucks the reader in the forest and on his car), brat-taming, rough yet soft dom! miguel, OOC CHARACTER MIGUEL the reader has nipple piercings, unprotective p-in-v (please, do your own research when it comes to stuff like this), cigarette usage, a little TABOO, AGAIN.

word count: +3.2k words

author's notes: thank you @lemon2099 aka @sweetlemongrove and the discord server for the encouragement to keep writing 💜. Y'all are my mini family and I love y'all so much!

PART TWO TO GATITA

Miguel found him a stray cat, you unironically. Once he gave you a lick of attention, you came back for more, the same way a stray cat would whenever a stranger gave it food to eat out of pity. It felt pathetic that you would conjure up any excuse to see him again. Changing your car’s air filter, replacing your windshield wipers, hell, even trying your best to act dumb to simple repairs that you can do on your own. It was almost laughable and pathetic for you to do this, but you couldn’t help it.

The man always made you melt and become sap, like warm honey on a cold kitchen counter—no matter how much you wiped it off with a paper towel, the stick and sweetness lingered behind. But it didn’t take long for Miguel to catch on—the man was intelligent, for God’s sake. It was clear as day as you always took your shitty 1970 Chevy S-10 everywhere, and he would always recognize that iconic blue truck every time you pulled up for a simple repair. 

But the innocent visit was about to fall short as the excuses to see him began to fall short. So he decided to change things up, taking you out on a late-night drive.

“M-Miguel!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, clutching onto the glove compartment of the Impala, nearly snapping the fake acrylic nails off your actual nails underneath. “Shhh… You can take it, princesa.” He pats your thigh lovingly before lightly slapping the soft flesh. “Miguel, Miguel!” Your voice fell on deaf ears as you felt the wind knocked out of your lungs.

“Nothing wrong with going a little fast.”

Yep, you've accepted your faith that you were going to die from some freak accident with an extremely hot mechanic next to you. “But it’s so fucking fast!” You screamed out, clawing at the car's dashboard with your nails. Miguel glances over, chuckling at the sight he sees. He could have sworn that if you wanted to, he would have seen some parts of the acrylic break by how strongly you were grasping the dashboard before you. “But we’re barely hitting 100, princess.” 

“What?” You whined, not believing his words, as it felt like the Impala was going faster than that. “Don’t worry, we won’t be on the road too long. I need to make a pit stop. Let’s tame that little heart of yours.” Miguel chuckles before taking an exit off the freeway, finally giving you a sense of relief in your veins. “Oh, thank god, thank god…” Your exasperations never failed to bring a smile to Miguel’s face as the Impala pulled up to a nearby gas station.

The white, bright lights at the gas pumps created an ominous aura in the space, but the ambiance of familiarity filled your soul. “C’mon, let’s get something to drink before we arrive at the meet, okay?” With trembling legs similar to those of a baby deer newly born, you stumbled out of the vintage car, clutching onto the vehicle's door. “Okay, I’ll catch up soon…” 

Miguel walks ahead, stepping into the gas station while you stagger behind, taking slow, steady steps to the building. “Coming, muneca?” He calls out, holding the door open for you as you stagger in, feeling the cool, icy breeze against your sticky, sweaty skin from the summer heat. “I’m coming, I’m coming…” You mumble, stepping into the gas station to grab a small drink. 

After taking a sip of the cold beverage, the sight of the forest slowly came to mind as the corner stores and gas stations slowly began to fade behind you. This late-night drive became nonetheless soothing, nothing but the long road ahead, along with the low ambiance of music and the car’s engine. 

/

His hands grasped your wrists, and you felt his calloused hand engulf your wrist almost. “Please stay still, hermosa.” He croons to you. With his free hand, his touch roamed over your body, occasionally letting his hand caress your curves, soon letting his hand grope your breast gently before rubbing the side of his thumb against your clothed nipple, lightly grazing the sensitive bud. Your back arched slightly, moving your back away from the hood of his car and towards his body. His hand lets go of your breast before tracing your figure slowly. His hand raised your skirt slowly before seeing what awaited him. 

The gusset of your underwear decorated a thin, wet line before him. “Seems like you were anticipating for this to happen?” Without letting go of your wrists, his free hand went down to your clothed entrance to trace the soaked, thin line with the pad of his thumb. A soft groan escapes from the back of your throat before his fingers forcefully grasp the gusset and move it to the side. “Do me a favor and don’t move, okay?” He lets your wrist go and gets down on his knees to see your fluttering, aching core. “Be still, okay?” He whispers, raising your skirt more, letting it rest on your stomach. Nodding to his words, you laid back on the low rider and waited anxiously. 

The sound of fabric ripping filled the space, causing you to look down. The man ripped your underwear, specifically from the gusset, vertically with precision. At the sound, you propped yourself up on the car's hood and looked down. You can only see his soft, wavy brown hair between your legs, leaving so much to the imagination. “I’ll get you new ones, hermosa. Don’t worry, your pretty little head.”

His middle and ring fingerpad lightly traced the entrance of your folds, gathering the clear slick. He brought his fingers to his lips, licking off the clear arousal you left behind, and scooted you closer to him, dragging you down onto the hood of the car, bringing you down to his lips. “Miguel-” You panicked before his nose bumped into your clit. Your hands grasped his thick, wavy black hair, not following his words or demands. “I told you to stay still for me.” He demands, grabbing onto the back of your knees with a grasp that can be mistaken for alligator clips used to jumpstart a car.

“Sorry…!” The apology fell on deaf ears as you mewled to his tongue, licking a long strip on your entrance, letting the flat of his tongue rest on your clit. “Now, stay still, and don’t leave a mess on the hood of my car.” He gruffs.

“I just got this shit painted, princesa.�� He pauses before giving your entrance a test lick before delving into you. You seethed through your teeth, feeling his mouth delve into your entrance. The bridge of his nose occasionally bumped into your clit, creating the perfect amount of friction for you to squirm your hips closer to his nose. “You poor thing…” He mumbled before licking a long strip of your core with a flat tongue. “You want it?” He croons, pulling away from your aching entrance. Your fluttering hole ached for his company again, the same sight he saw for the first time months ago. “C’mere…” He grasped onto the back of your knees, sliding you down the hood of the Chevy before your bare cunt made contact with his clothed erection. The heat from his bulge is almost too irresistible not to grind against his aching package, waiting to be accessible under your hands and control. 

You looked up from where you were lying down, and the sight before you was a sight you didn’t want to erase. Miguel kept his grasp on you but grated the aching bulge against you. “Please, please, please.” You lingered on your last plea, reaching down to his belt buckle, poorly attempting to unbuckle. “Hold on for a moment.” His hand gently grasped your wrist and moved it away from his bulge. “Let’s prep you for a moment, okay?” You nod with a breathy sigh and lay back, expecting to feel his tongue, which you don’t mind. 

But something else entered, enough for you to roll your eyes back in ecstasy and to scream out, allowing your voice to echo in the forest. “I know, baby, I know…” He quiets, planting soft kisses on your temple, keeping his ring and middle finger around your rapid, wavering walls. The soft grinding motions drew out soft mewls from you, enough to soak his fingers almost immediately. 

“Let’s raise this.” With his free hand, he reached to the hem of your shirt and yanked it up with vigorous force. The sight of two silver dumbbells was the first thing he saw before him, showing off the sensitive buds. “I didn’t get to see these last time…” With a careful hand, he caressed the soft mound before directing his attention to the sensitive nub, tracing the pad of his fingers around the areola. 

He lowers his head down and takes in a sensitive nub into his mouth, allowing his tongue to trace the silver jewelry along the sensitive nub. “Give me a second…!” You mewled out, feeling his teeth lightly tug at the barbell piercing but letting go. “I’ve heard that saliva is a good stimulant to heal this type of piercing…” He mumbles before suckling onto your nub before his fingers slowly thrust into your aching core, awaiting to be stuffed and abused. “Oh shit,” You paused, taking in a shaky breath, feeling his calloused fingers massage your gummy walls. “Oh shit…” You repeated, soon taking labored breaths. “C’mon, princess…” Miguel whispers as he pulls away from your nipple and moves to the other, keeping his fingers at the same slow pace. “Tell me… tell me that it’s too much…” He croons. “Is it too much, princess?” 

“No…” You bluff, feeling like a puddle of sap against his fingers at the slow pace. “No? Let’s pick it up, m’kay?” He innocently asks, slowly increasing the pace and curling his ring and middle finger. “Miguel…” You whimpered, at the brink of finishing all over the hood of his Impala. “Don’t even think about it, princess,” Miguel commands, picking the pace up. A yelp escapes the back of your throat, and you soon feel your legs tremble against his hold. “Please, please, please…” You whine, feeling a bit of anticipation to gush out your release. “Don’t,” He croons. “You better not finish. I finished the paint job on this car.”

You looked up with pleading eyes at the brink of tears. “Please, please, please…” You continue the mantra, knowing you are getting on Miguel’s nerves now. “No.” He demands before the familiar, wet slapping noise fills the space around you. “Is it too much?” He pushes the question again, letting the forest area get overwhelmed with a wet slapping noise. “No.” You repeat, too stubborn for your good. “I refuse to believe that. Look at you.” 

He paused his words and kept up with rapid motions. “Milking my fingers, your legs trembling under my hold, I think your body says otherwise.”

“Don’t finish on this car’s hood.” He repeats, keeping the same motion and pulling his fingers out of your aching core.

/

Miguel’s Perspective

The look on her face is enough to laugh at. Pathetic. The look on her face made it look like she was a stranded kitten left in the rain, wanting to seek shelter in a warm space away from the cool air of the piney forest. But that wasn’t the case. She was laid out on the hood of my car like a dish served on a silver platter, waiting to be devoured and consumed. Her nervous but anticipated look is enough to send me to the edge. The urge to just take off my pants and to make her drunk on lust came to mind immediately, but no, she needs anticipation and patience other than lust. 

The sight of her glistening arousal coating my fingers soon drizzled down onto the hood of the Impala. “I told you to hold it in.” I fumed, seeing the glistening arousal pool onto the hood of the car, creating a small puddle. “God, you can’t even do this one thing correctly.”

I yanked her aching core down to my bulge, seeing her glistening arousal coat a thin layer on the denim of my pants. “C’mere…” Her hands rush down to the belt buckle of my pants, moving in a manic manner to free my aching cock free. “It’s yours. You know what to do with it.”

/

“I don’t…” You replied, playing coy with his words. “I don’t know…” Your hands grasp the band of his boxer, yanking on it playfully. “You know how.” He croons as your hand yanks down his boxer briefs, freeing his aching cock. A low “fuck” escapes him deep from him, and it is enough for you to finish everywhere on the hood of the Impala, literally. The pink mauve-colored tip ached for your attention, showing tiny beads of precum accumulating on the head, with some sliding down his shaft, specifically tracking a prominent vein. “C’mon, you know what to do.” He repeats, wanting you to initiate these events instead. 

With a forceful grab, you lead his tip to your aching core and grind it against your aching core. Your core began to kegel against the sensation of his length, feeling it rub against your clit gently. “Don’t tease me,” He insists, bucking his hips, feeling his cock free itself from your grasp. You grasp onto it again, guide his tip into your aching core, and slowly guide him in. “Shit…” You whimper, feeling the familiar pressure push up against your aching core. 

“How do you feel bigger than last time?” You whined, slowly sinking into his length. “Take deep breaths for me, m’kay?” He hums, mused by the sight before him. “I know it’s a lot, baby, I know…” You take in deep breaths while he ground the tip against your cervix, to the point where it did hurt a little, but it was pleasurable. “Take your time, it’s okay…” He croons, moving a hand down to your clit, lightly grazing the sensitive bundle of nerves. A breathy whimper is the only response he receives from you. 

The soft kisses against your temple are enough to ease you as the soft kisses make you giggle underneath him. “That’s enough,” He breathes out, soon grasping your hips with his hands. “Are we okay?” Miguel questions, allowing his thumb to trace the skin on your hips, specifically the stretchmarks painted on your soft skin. “Yeah, I’m okay…” 

The slow thrusts slowly came to a steady pace, allowing you to get comfortable with his size. Soft mewls and whimpers escaped from the back of your throat as you laid back on the hood of the car and felt your breasts bounce a bit from the thrusting. The sight of the silver barbells decorating your nipples while your breasts bounced with his tempo displayed the sight for him. “There we go, you’re getting used to me more now…”

The feeling of the virgencita charm from his necklace lightly booped your nose, occasionally touching your lips, staining the golden charm with your lipgloss. “Is this bothering you?” He chuckles, seeing the charm bump against your lips and nose. “No, not at all…” It was a bluff; the sensation of the chain and charm tickled you while you chased the sensation bubbling against your core. 

“You’re almost there?” The slight bulge in your stomach amused Miguel, seeing the bulge appear and disappear with every thrust. He lets go of your hip with one hand and pushes his hand down onto your lower stomach while keeping a steady yet hard pace. “How does that feel?” He questions, looking down to see your reaction. “Yes…” You breathed out, not giving him a proper answer as you squirmed under the pressure rise. 

“C’mon, I know you’re almost close…” He praises, bullying his tip into your sopping cunt, no longer worrying about the hood of the car or the paint job that he’s been telling you about since you two arrived at an odd location in the forest. “Finish with me, come on…” He pushes, not caring how loud the two of you are. “Please, Miguel…” You scream out, no longer pleading quietly. “Finish with me.” He croons.

The chase slowly came to an end as the sudden splurge of you squirting everywhere on the hood of the Impala, following along with Miguel cradling you close in his arms, finally giving you a couple of last thrusts into your core. “There we go…” He mumbles, placing a shaky kiss on your temple and slowly pulling out. Your whine greeted his ears as he pulled out his softening cock, and a thin white line at your entrance decorated your cunt, no longer empty. “There we go, keep it in there.” You felt as if your body took a screenshot from laying on the car's hood while the sound of clothes ruffling and a belt clinking filled your ears.

The next few moments felt blurred. You felt Miguel help you off the car's hood and straighten out your now-ruffled top and skirt. “I don’t need anyone else to see you like this,” he mutters before making his way to the vehicle's passenger side. What are you doing?” You huff out, leaning against the side of the car for support. “Give me a moment,” he continues to rummage around before he grasps a small red box in his hand.

“Do you fuck with cigarettes?” He questions. You weakly nod, slowly coming down from your high. “Do you mind which brand?” The sight of the Marlboro flashed your eyes before Miguel nudged the box gently, allowing the two cigarettes to slide out a bit, enough for you and Miguel to grab. You grabbed the cancerous stick and placed it between your tinted pink lips, smeared with pink lipgloss at the corner of your lips. Reaching into his pocket, the lighter looked tiny in his grasp as he flickered on the measly lighter. 

“Here,” You reach for the small lighter and take it from him with a gentle grasp, soon flicking at the small wheel. After a couple of flicks at it, the small flame appeared, emitting a tangy orange close to your hand, soon flickering along with the breeze. “Oh…!” You shield the small flickering flame with your free hand, allowing the flame to flicker about before settling its movements. 

As he took a deep breath, Miguel reached for the small flame and brought the cigarette closer to it. Without removing the cigarette from his lips, he leaned down towards you and used your flame to light his cigarette. As he did so, he kept his gaze locked on yours, retaining eye contact for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes. His eyes are like embers of fire waiting to be ignited again, waiting for the next moment to be triggered. 

“Here…” He grabbed the cigarette and pulled it away from your lips as he inhaled his cigarette slowly. Wary of the lit cigarette between his fingers, he gently grasps your chin and kisses you while exhaling the smoke into your mouth. He slowly pulls away from the soft kiss and lingers eyes on you.

For a moment, there was a glisten in his eye when they softened; it didn’t go unnoticed…

Tag List:

@mybvalentine @famousscattale @lazyjellyfish300 @ohara-whore @miguelzslvtz @queerponcho @improbable-outset @snails-doodles22 @koko-1025 @miguelhugger2099 @hyjionie @ugh-ok-fiyn @hwasoup

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Spellbook Swap

I've always wondered how couples stay together so long. My husband, Derek, and I had been married for 3 years now and while we get along great and support each other through everything, the sex had been pretty stale for awhile. Half the time he's not really in the mood and when he is, we usually just jerk off next to each other. I was getting tired of it and craved something more. But Derek was still so cute, him being a socially awkward nerd, and I was scared to tell him how I feel because he might cry.

That afternoon, I was on my way to pick him up from work. We only had one car, but since both our jobs typically had the same shift, I always headed over to pick him up at his job at the library. I didn't actually have work today so I went a little earlier to look at some books. When I arrived, Derek noticed me and smiled real big.

“Hey! You're early!”

“Yeah, thought I'd browse a bit.”

“Ah ok. I just organized it all so you get to see my work!” He smiled again and continued helping customers in line.

I browsed through my favorite genre - fantasy. I always loved ones that involved magic, spells, and amazing worlds. I noticed one book that kinda stuck out a bit amongst the shelf. It was some kind of spellbook with a brown leather cover, and had a bit of dust on it, which seemed strange because the rest of the shelf was perfectly clean. I opened it up and found that it was indeed a spellbook. I wasn't the most superstitious person ever, but I did believe there was some kind of magical force out there that could do incredible things.

I flipped through the table of contents and noticed there was a category called “relationships”. I turned the pages to the section and saw a bunch of spells - ones to make someone fall in love with you, ones to get promoted at work, ones to impress your family, things like that. I was about to close the book when I found one page - how to spice up your sex life. That was just what I needed! Even if it didn't work, it couldn't hurt to try.

I walked over to the counter right as another guy started talking to Derek. He was a real muscular guy wearing a white shirt and tan hat. His pants left absolutely nothing to the imagination with the way they were tight fitting around his ass. A mustache covered his thick face, which complemented his bright green eyes. He was carrying a tote bag.

“Hey can I help you?” He greeted the man with an eager attitude. “Need a book recommendation or anything?”

“Oh no I don't read.” The man spoke with a deep manly voice. “I mean, who has time to when you could be working out?” I could see the rare irritated look on Derek's face.

“Then…what do you need from the library?” He replied, much less eager than before.

“Just dropping off some books for the wife. We're going on vacation and they’re due tomorrow.” He took a couple books out of the tote bag.

“Allright. I can take them.” The man handed him the books and immediately turned around and left. Derek's smile returned when he saw me with a book in my hand.

“Hey! What'd you get?”

“It's a book of spells.”

“Of spells? Like real ones?”

“No way,” I laughed. “Just some dumb thing. Looks fun to read though.”

“Allright. Gotcha.” He checked me out and I sat down, waiting for him to finish the rest of the closing.

That evening after dinner I tried to seduce him but he wasn't having it once again.

“Sorry, work has me so exhausted you know?” I wish that I wanted to, but…well I just don't want to. Sorry.” I stood there defeated.

“Ok.” I let out an emotionless reply. As Derek brushed his teeth and got ready to head into bed, I flipped through the pages of the spellbook. I found the “spice up your sex life” spell and read the instructions. I needed to recite the incantation while looking at a picture of the two of us. I took out my phone, and scrolled through my gallery until I found the perfect picture. Then I started to recite the spell. Nothing happened. I tried again. Still nothing. At that point I was mad at him and now mad at the spellbook for wasting my time, so I headed into the bedroom. There I found Derek waiting for me.

“Hey…look I'm sorry. How about tomorrow morning we have some fun? I promise I'll go through with it!” Maybe the spell did work afterall! We both had a day off tomorrow so that was perfect. I was so excited that I could barely sleep.

The next morning I woke up to Derek nudging me awake. Excitedly, I turned over. But to my surprise, it wasn't him smiling at me, but a hairy guy with a mustache. He was giving me a sexy smile.

“Hey…you ready?” He gave me a look of uncertainty and cleared his throat. I didn't even know what to say but I was so confused that there was total stranger in my bed, so I had to say something.

“Who are…you?” He frowned beneath his mustache.

“What do you mean? Oh no, am I having an allergic reaction somehow? That would explain my voice and why my eyesight is blurry even with my glasses on. It's me though! My face must be so puffy…oh god."

”Holy fuck. It's Derek! But this was far beyond an allergic reaction. He's an entirely different person! He pushed the covers off and was about to get out of bed, probably to take a look at himself in the mirror, when he glanced down at his body. This was definitely not normal. He was muscular, tan, and hairy - a stark contrast to what he normally looked like. He made a terrified face, which was a strange sight on such a macho guy.

“What? What's happening? I-I…” He looked at me with worry in his eyes, and it was then that I realized WHY this was happening. It must've been the spell. I guess turning your boyfriend into a muscle hunk would definitely spice up our sex lives. But I couldn't leave him in the dark.

“I-I,” I started. “It was my fault. That spellbook I got, I used it on you. I didn't expect this though!”

It was then that I realized WHO he was. That guy we saw at the library yesterday. He somehow swapped bodies with him!

“What? What spell was it?”

“Spice up your sex life. I just…was getting bored. And you were never in the mood.”

“Oh…but it turned me into this?” He then rushed to the bathroom. I followed. He immediately recognized himself as soon as he looked into the mirror.

“Hey! I'm that guy from yesterday!? Why did it turn me into him?”

“I-I don't know! Maybe it picked someone from a recent memory?”

He gazed at himself in the mirror with an open mouth, and touched all around his face, pinching and feeling his mustache.He gazed down and admired his new muscles, feeling all around his pecs and the chest hair growing from them. He then turned around and stared at the mirror again, this time making a variety of expressions.

“What am I supposed to do? I can't stay like this!”

“I don't know! There must be something about a reverse spell in the book.” Flipping through the book, I once again found the page I needed. I read every word but didn't find anything about a reverse spell. Could he be stuck like this?

“Maybe if we see like a professional?”

“What, like a fortune teller witch lady or whatever?”

“Exactly.”

“Well. I do remember seeing something like that close to town. A psychic. Maybe they can help?”

“We could try.” I looked up fortune tellers and found Madam Cleo - Psychic. It was a short drive away. I was hoping we would find our answers there.

“I got it.”

“One problem,” Derek said doubtfully.

“What?” He stared down at himself and then answered.

“I don't think anything will fit me now…” I couldn't help but laugh out loud.“I think we can find something at least.”

We dug through the closet and eventually found the Lakers jersey that my uncle gifted me a few years back. I wasn't even into basketball and it was a few sizes too big, but at least it helped us in the end! Derek slipped it on and gazed at himself in the mirror. It fit pretty nicely.

“Not really my style…but it'll do for now.” He put his finger on his chin and then rubbed his head. He froze when he grazed the back of it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I'm…balding.” He turned around and tilted his head up to show me. He definitely had a bad case of male pattern baldness. I thought it was pretty hot, but he looked terrified.

“Hmm…well. That's something we can just fix with a hat. I walked into the bedroom, grabbed one of my hats, and put it on his head. It completed the look well.

“I guess this'll work. Maybe.” I laughed again.

“You'll be fine.”

We got to the car, Derek struggling a bit to fit in the passenger seat with his new frame, and headed over to the fortune teller. It was a warehouse-like building, although much smaller. As we were about to walk in, someone else walked out. He was a young looking guy around my age, but at least 200 lbs heavier. He looked like he made absolutely no effort to control his weight.

“Hey! That lady is awesome!” He said excitedly. “She told my fortune and said that I would lose weight very soon! I can't wait!” He then ran off, his gross looking belly jiggling up and down, and drove away.

I kinda felt bad for people like that, that actually believe that sort of thing…what am I saying? We're the ones going to a fortune teller for help. I just really hoped she was legit then.

We walked in and found that the interior was nicely decorated, completely different from the outside. Shiny wooden floors, a chandelier, and LED lights hanging from the walls. All of that surrounded a crystal ball in the center. Within a few seconds a woman dressed in a typical fortune teller outfit appeared from a curtain in the back.

“What does the future hold for you two today? Let's find out,” she said with an ominous tone to her voice.

“Actually we're not here to get our fortunes told. We need your help.”

“What do you mean? She asked, dropping the ominous tone.

“Well my husband here is a victim to a body swapping spell gone wrong.” I showed her the book, flipping to the page.

“Oh my,” she said with a concerned look on her face. “This is very powerful magic indeed.”

“But how do we reverse it?”

“I don't know for sure. But the victim should try to recite it instead.

“Victim? You mean Derek? How would that work?”

“Do not question why things are the way they are. Now go!” She said suddenly. With that, we hurried back home to recite the spell.

“Ok how do I do this now?” Derek asked.

“Just recite the spell, and focus on a picture of us.” He recited the incantation.

“Nothing happened…how was it last time?”

“Same as this time. I guess it took awhile to take effect. What should we do in the meantime?” He didn't reply, but instead stared at himself in the mirror.

“You know, now that this face actually has a brain behind it, it's actually kinda hot.” He then walked over to me and got real close. I'd never been intimidated by Derek before for obvious reasons, but this time I couldn't help but feel dominated by his brawny self.

“The spell picked this guy because you thought he was so hot didn't it? That's gotta be it.” He said with a low voice.

“Y-yeah. I admit it. He seemed dumb at the library but hey, he was a hunk.”

“And now I'm that hunk.” He started feeling all around his body again. He then glanced at his dick and began to stroke it. I knew exactly where this was going and I was all for it.

“Well then Mr. Muscle Hunk, why don't you show off that body a bit more?”

“I'd like nothing more…but I'm gonna go shower first. Who knows where this guy's been?”

“Yeah good idea. I'll be in the room.”

I was so excited! This was gonna be the hottest thing ever! I headed toward the closet to find something sexy to put on. Suddenly I felt a bit dizzy. I noticed my skin seemed to be glowing somehow. Within seconds it turned ghostly white, and then became so bright, it hurt to look at. Why was I glowing? It seemed to be just my body though, nothing was happening to my clothes. As quickly as it came, the glowing stopped and the dizziness returned. I didn't have time to see what happened, because as soon as the glow stopped I lost my balance and fell onto the nearby chair.

My clothes felt incredibly tight, but it wasn't long before I realized why. I was fat! My shirt didn't even fit over my large belly. My pants must've popped a button as my gut hung over them. I tried to get up but the weight of my gut kept pushing me backwards. How do fat guys even do this?

When I finally got up and onto my feet, I rushed to the mirror, my hanging belly flopping up and down. My face looked familiar…oh shit. I was that guy we saw at the fortune teller's! Did the spell do this? How did this happen?!

I heard the shower stop, meaning Derek was going to meet me here any minute now. I couldn't believe the hottest night of my life was about to be ruined! Why did this have to happen?

The door opened and there he was, standing there in a pair of briefs. They were always a little big on him, but with his new body, they were pretty tight. It looked like he shaved his head too. He stared at me, at first he looked shocked but then his expression changed. Was that a look of lust?

“So the spell did something to you too?”

“Yeah…look at me! I'm a mess!” I jiggled my flabby moobs to prove my point.

“Well…”

“Well?”

“It's not so bad.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean…well you know how you said I look hot like this? And that the spell probably made me like this for that reason?”

“Yeah. What are you getting at…wait.”

“Mhm.” He mumbled with a sexy smirk.

“Y-you think I'm hot like this?!" He got real close and started making out with me. It was the most intense make out session I'd ever had. The feeling of his thick mustache rubbing against my face was a sensation I would've never expected could feel so good.

“Does that answer your question?”

“Yep,” I said with a smirk.

[lumiambrose]

writers block does not go hard so here's a little self-indulgence...

f!reader x kaiser, nsfw below the cut, degredation, semi-public sex

kaiser has a tattoo on his thigh. another rose tattoo that wraps around his thigh and lower abdomen. he doesn't really show it off and nobody really knows about it. except you of course ;)

how? well... you just so happened to run into him last night at the club. your initial plan was to get drunk and party with your girlfriends, but that idea was short lived after you caught the blonde-haired man's eye who was lounging in the vip section.

after observing the way you'd bring smiles to all your friends faces or the way your hips swayed to the music blasting through the club, he knew he needed to know more.

so of course, kaiser ordered security to bring you up into the vip section and god, you were even more stunning up close. the tint of your lips, your silky shiny hair and your sweet sweet curves had him in a chokehold and god, it made him so hard.

he sat you down next to him and got to know you throughout the evening. well... he tried, he just couldn't keep his eyes off your sweet lips and plush tits.

and at some point late at night, he snapped. he couldn't take it anymore as he leaned in to tower over you smashing his lips to yours. taking you by surprise as he devoured your mouth, exploring every part of you, tasting the remains of the alcohol you just consumed.

despite your initial surprise, you leaned in to deepen the kiss, finally getting what you spent this whole night working for.

come on. who wouldn't dress up all sexy and go clubbing if they knew the michael kaiser was in your city?

he didn't have to know that of course. especially when this man pulls you into his lap to get closer to your throbbing heat, letting you grind on him. letting you use him.

you should be ashamed, you really should, behaving like such a whore in public. but with the gorgeous blonde grinding your hips on his aching cock, giving you so much pleasure. you can't help but whine into his mouth.

and eventually, he can't take it either. picking you up and taking you to the vip bathroom so he can finally get that blissful release that his cock aches for.

your lean against the sink as kaiser lifts your dress up and takes off your panties, storing them in his pockets for whatever fucked up reason he may have in mind.

"so wet for me." he coos into your ear as his fingers trace your slick, electing a whine from your lips.

slipping his thumb into your mouth to shut you up, he warns you, "nicht so laut, süsser. you don't want security to hear us do you?"

he then bends you over the counter as he aligns his cock with your throbbing entrace, "or maybe you do. dirty whores do like getting caught, don't they?" he teases as he gives your ass a harsh slap and finally enters you.

he absolutely ravages your pretty pussy with his fat cock, balls slapping against the plush of your ass with every thrust. the longer this goes on, the more blank your mind goes.

"what a dumb bitch" he snickers as his free hand reaches for your throat, "i haven't been inside of you for more than five minutes and you're already drunk on my dick." clenching your throat to draw out the air from your lungs.

he would be lying if he said the sight in front of him didn't absolutely destroy him. your teary eyes and fucked out expression only fuelled him further, fucking into you harder and faster.

your orgasm closes in and you cream around his long dick, trying your best to keep yourself up while you whine his name. with your legs trembling kaiser holds you up with the arm that was previously on your neck, to now place you down on your knees.

he didn't need to say anything as you went to take his cock in your mouth, tasting your own arousal mixed with his precum. to keep yourself from falling, you grip onto his chiselled thighs and that's when you finally notice the pretty rose tattoo carved along his lower body.

choking yourself on his length you trace the tattoo with one of your hands, fingers gliding gently over it as you notice it elicits such a desperate reaction from the blonde striker.

gasping at the overwhelming sensations he lets out a strained "scheisse" as he grips your hair to fuck himself down your throat, burying himself in you as he spills his hot load down your throat.

he eventually pulls out and admires your lustful expression as he helps you up and cleans you off before swiftly heading back to the vip section, leaving you fucked out and needy for more.

after you fix your makeup, you head out to find the man you just fucked lazing on the velvet sofa with two cocktails on the table next to him as he beckons you over. letting you know that the night between you and the rose-tattooed man was far from over.

[jazzsonly]

ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ

pairing(s): sam carpenter x g!p!stem!reader

warning(s): none. very very brief kiss. mentions of reader being a nerd/nerd-like. not proofread.

summary: sam might have said no to your date but you get something even better.

part two. coming soon!

────────✯────────

when you met chad, you’d never thought you would become best friends with a guy like him. he was an idiot jock, who liked to party and be shirtless.

you were a smart tutor, a somehow homebody who liked to party. so i guess, you could say that’s what you guys had in common,

partying.

you tutored chad every wednesday but one weekend at a frat party you bumped into the jock, surprisingly ending up having a drinking contest. you found it a little odd to be drinking with the same guy you’re tutoring but chad found it cool, he found you cool. he had never met anyone as smart as you but now he had never met anyone more fun than you.

as much as he loved his friends if core four, he couldn’t deny you were down for things with him they wouldn’t be. after, the partying and drinking contest together, you both got more comfortable together, setting up study dates at each other’s apartments.

those study dates eventually became call of duty battles, checking out the girls on campus together, sometimes hitting the gym together. there was no denying you and chad were newly best friends, despite ethan’s sulking jealousy.

now, you were glad you met chad but even more glad when he introduced you to the core four, more importantly sam.

sam.

you were no better than a man when you first laid your eyes on the girl, you stared at her like she was a piece of meat. it was so bad that now everytime she entered room and you were there, chad just had to joke telling you to close your mouth.

you were sure sam sorta kinda had thing for you too, from chad she was super uptight with new people, definitely not a trusting person but with you, she was chill. she sat next to you during movie nights, shared the popcorn with you, sometimes she even laid her legs in your lap.

this enflamed your crush even more, well until tara claimed it was only because she thought anyone chad brought around was just as dumb as him. and no dumb person could be ghostface.

but she was wrong, you were top of all your classes, well almost all.

fuck chemistry.

“chad, focus.” you slap the back of the boy’s head who had dozed off at the sight of tara.

“ow! i am focused!”

“stop being a baby, i didn’t even hit you that hard. now, how many vertices are in this problem?” you point at the math sketch in the textbook.

“uh…7?” you pinch the bridge of your nose.

you had been at the kitchen counter for hours trying to tutor chad but he had only gotten two questions right.

“look, don’t get mad at me you’re the one who supposed to help me know this stuff.”

“you’re impossible to teach!” you throw your hands up, dramatically letting them fall back down.

“what are you doing?” you turn your head a the familiar voice, your favorite voice.

sam who had just emerged from her room from a hibernated nap.

“trying to tutor this idiot.”

“hey!” you ignore chad, all you energy engorged with sam.

“you? tutor?”

“uh, yeah, i’m top of all my classes…well except for one.” stupid chemistry, you thought.

“you are?” you nod.

“then why are you friends with chad?”

“hey!”

“i ask myself the same thing.” sam just nods at your words, making her way to the fridge.

“can we take a break now?” you flag chad off and he takes that was his leeway to take the couch with tara.

“soo…sam?” you move your way around the counter.

“yea?” she answered despite her back away from you as her eyes scanned the fridge.

“i was thinking, i mean if you want to uh go to a movie with me?”

you watched as her movements paused and she turned towards you, you couldn’t pinpoint what she was feeling or her facial expression but there was something there.

“sorry but i can’t…” she trailed off, closing the fridge and seemingly retreating back down the hallway into her room.

you stood there, dumbfounded.

dumbfounded yet unphased, if sam carptener’s love was a challenge the nerd in you would gladly accept it.

“she’s not gonna give up, just watch.” you hear chad mumble to tara, which you flipped him off.

in the coming weeks after that you expected sam to avoid you like a plague but she did the opposite, it was like everytime you were over she went out of her way to be around you. making sure to touch your shoulder when she moved by you, hugging you as a greeting, hell she even cuddled with you on movie nights and to say the least, you did not mind.

but what you did mind was when you asked about her rejecting your advances, she would avoid it.

once again the nerd in you would not allow this, you would get to the bottom of it and right now was the perfect timing. everyone had left to the store to collect snacks for movie night, minus chad who was in tara’s room doing god knows what with the girl.

it was just you and sam, empty and open apartment, side by side on the couch while family feud played.

“so, you’re really not gonna tell me why you won’t go out with me?”

“you don’t give up do you?” the carpenter turned you, resting her hand on the back of your head, fingers getting tangled in your hair.

see.

“you’re so clingy when i’m here, so why won’t you go out with me?” you watched as she bit her lip, suppressing a taunting smile from you.

“you’re cute, you know, i think you’re cute.”

you smile, “i think you’re cute too, so go out with me?”

a breathy chuckle came from the girls lips, and she moved close to you.

“kiss me.”

“what?” you were taken back.

“kiss me before i change my mind.” and then you didn’t hesitate. you closed the little space that was between you two, landing a soft but stern kiss onto her lips. your hands finding her hips, pulling her closer and her arms found their way around your neck.

a sigh of relief and satisfaction somehow escaped your lips, while a hum escaped hers. her kiss was candy mint, it tastes good and you didn’t wanna stop but unfortunately air became an issue and you reluctantly pulled away, “so does this mean i can take you out?”

“stop asking me out.” she scoots away just in time because the door flew open and in came ethan with bags on bags while anika and mindy came behind with empty hands.

“thanks for the help.” ethan mutters sarcastically.

━━━ part two (coming soon!) take it easy on me, it’s my first time writing in MONTHS.

[ghostgirl-22]

Do you think patrick ever put on a queer/gay movie as a subtle way to get art out of his shell, like "yeah dude ive wanted to watch this movie for ages" and its okay its chill, look how hot they are, look how happy they are

"Is kissing boys different to kissing girls?"

Oh he definitely did… I’m sorry this is so long nonnie!!!

CW: 18+ NSFW | period typical internalized homophobia

—-

Patrick’s lying in Arts bed with his headphones on going through his catalogue of dvds trying to figure out what B movie they can watch and make fun of while they get high. The whole time Art is using his back as a writing surface to finish his math homework.

Patrick pulls his headphones off and drops them on the ground. “It’s Friday. Do you have to do that now?”

“It’s Friday night, we have the tournament Saturday and Sunday so when exactly?” Art says distractedly, erasing.

“On the bus like I do.” Patrick smiles and turns to look at him. Art pushes his shoulder back down. Patrick shrugs and focuses back on his dvds.

“Stay still.” Art demands.

“Forgive me if I’m just trying to get you to have a little fun in our last few months at Mark Reballato Tennis Academy.”

“You know I do actually plan to graduate, right?” Art says dryly.

“So you can go to Stanford?” Patrick says wrinkling his nose in irritation.

Art puts his notebook down on Patrick’s back. “You know Tashi’s gonna be there right?”

Patrick shrugs. “So, just two overtalented people wasting time…”

“Aww so you’re calling me talented?” Art teases.

“You are,” Patrick says. “When you don’t think too much, which Stanford should help you with. I’m sure they don’t over think anything there.”

“Whatever man,” Art sighs. If anything it’ll help my tennis. I think you’re just scared I might steal her away.”

“Not even a little bit, but speaking of her… do you remember how you let me put my tongue in your mouth?” Patrick smirks.

Art goes all quiet like he’s doing homework again but Patrick doesn’t hear the pencil scratching paper.

“You always bring it up like you think I want you or something.”

“You wanted something, I felt it,” Patrick says pushing himself up as Art grabs the notebook off him before it falls.

“Come on man, don’t be gross, that was for her.”

“How is that gross?” Patrick asks, mildly amused, mildly irritated.

“You know what I mean,” Art says. “‘m not gay.”

“You know there’s nothing wrong with it right? Not to mention I’ve seen you before…touched you before… and…I mean remember what we did after she left? Didn’t I make you feel better?”

“We don’t always have to talk about it.”

“We don’t never have to talk about it either.” Patrick counters.

Art takes a deep breath and rests his head against the wall trying to find a way to change the subject. “Dude, if you’re gay just let me have another shot with her.” Is what he comes up with, dumb pretty smirk on his lips.

Patrick rolls his eyes. “Yeah whatever, fine I’m gay…actually that reminds me of this movie you can gayly watch with your gay best friend.”

“I’m just joking. You don’t have to—“

“Well I’m not joking, come on, put this away, loser,” Patrick grabs his notebook and stuffs the papers inside.

“Okay Jesus, Patrick don’t wrinkle it all up.”

“I’m not, chill out. Get the smoke detector.”

Art sighs and climbs off the bed. He steps on Patrick’s bed and reaches up to disconnect the detector from its place on the ceiling. He puts it in the bathroom. Then he shoves a towel beneath the crack in the door.

All the while Patrick’s combing through his dvd case for one random movie he borrowed from Netflix at the start of the year and he’d forgotten to mail it back so they charged him. (That’s sadly how he ended up with a lot of his dvd collection.) He’d watched it once by himself because he thought the main guys were hot and he wanted to jerk off in peace without Art voicing confusion at the idea of him jerking it for a man.

But it had been surprisingly deep for one of those campy queer movies. And of course it was about a guy in love with his roommate which… even for Art’s ability to delude himself wouldn’t be subtle at all.

“What’s this?” Art asks.

“The movie we’re gonna watch. This guy is a male hooker but he ends up getting hired by this old guy who mostly just wants his company.”

Art frowns.

“Come on, relax. You can be straight and watch it. Movies don’t turn people gay and you’re not gay…so what’s the big deal?”

Art looks like he wants to argue but decides it’ll just be easier to surrender. Patrick rolls the joint while Art puts it in the dvd player.

It’s not all his fault. Art was raised with apple pie and Americana. He’s a J Crew catalogue wearing, red blooded New England boy. His family is pretty liberal but in the way that they support all of it as long as it remains out there faceless and unknown… far away from their life and their home. Art’s expected to play a sport, go to an ivy, marry a beautiful girl and likely start a career in politics if tennis doesnt pay off. So this idea that life could ever deviate from that makes him glitch out.

All the tension they have between them is so much easier to just bury. Like none of it matters. It’s not supposed to change the trajectory of his cookie cutter life anyway. Patrick is a victim of similar family expectations but he just doesn’t give a fuck and they’ve all stopped expecting things from him a long time ago because of it.

Art sits on his bed next to Patrick they’re both leaning against the wall Patricks feet dangling over the mattress, Art with his legs crossed. Patrick lights up the joint and hands it to him.

—-

They’re pretty baked halfway through and Arts fidgety. It’s at a scene where the main character is touching himself watching his roommate in the shower. “He’s hot right?” Patrick asks.

Art takes a breath. “Dude.”

“Yeah I know…you’re not gay.” Patrick smirks, but even in the dim glow of the tv he can see the way Art’s already starting to show in his boxers.

The third roommate catches the main character watching and wants to suck him off. Then while third roommate is sucking him he starts fantasizing about all three of them hooking up, kissing sloppy on the bed.

“Is this porn?” Art whispers. “Are we really watching gay porn?”

“No I wish… unfortunately they don’t show you that much but imagine if me and you and Tashi were roommates.You watching her shower… while I…”

Art makes a strangled noise and Patrick rubs his own cock, smiling to himself. Art’s just getting there but Patrick���s been hard for the last 30 minutes.

“Patrick,” Art whispers. He’s starting to touch himself over his boxers.

“Give me the joint,” Patrick says, softly. It’s their third one. “If you drop it on the bed again we’ll both be in trouble.”

Art hands it over and Patrick puts it out in the ashtray on the nightstand. He moves closer to Art reaching over to help him. Art leans back, letting Patrick take over. Patrick reaches into his boxers. “Mm Patrick… have you seen her naked?” Art asks.

“No,” Patrick whispers. “Just her underwear. But…I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

“I feel like I can still taste her lips.” He moans while Patrick plays with him. Patrick can’t help but ease his other hand into his own pants. “I wanna…ah… I wanna… see her all soaped up wet and…” Art continues.

“And…?” Patrick breathes.

“Fuck… can you… can we…do what we did after…”

Patrick smiles and nods even though Art likely can’t see him. He gets on his knees and Art scoots towards the edge of the bed. Patrick takes Art’s boxers down and starts sucking him off. touching himself the whole time.

“Mm fuck,” Art breathes.

He barely lasts 2 minutes before he’s filling Patrick’s mouth with so much jizz. Patrick swallows it down, while listening to Art moaning for him. All the hair on his arms standing up. He rests his head against Art’s thigh making quick work of himself, using part of the sheet to keep it from getting all over the floor.

Patrick settles where he is on the floor, breathless when he’s done. Looking up at the television like it was fucking nothing even though his heart is still racing.

Main character has moved so far away from the threesome fantasy. He’s now angsty and worried about his best friend who’s apparently being pursued by someone else. Some other more wholesome gay man. Patrick ponders rewinding but when he looks up at Art, he’s lying back on the bed, hand casually on the waistband of his boxers, tapping his bare feet on the floor just watching.

Patrick rubs Arts leg idly.

“Who’s this loser?” Art asks of the more wholesome gay man.

Patrick laughs. It’s exactly what he thought on his first watch through.

They end up watching the rest of the film. Again, it’s surprisingly more emotional than the premise (male hooker wants to fuck his roommates). Main character ends up learning to be more open about his feelings in his time chatting with the elder gay client. And the emotional part is hearing the elder gay man talk about what he went through to fall in love with his partner when it was much more taboo and unacceptable. And how even though they meet late in life they still lived such a full and happy life (if too short) before his partner passed. And main character’s roommate even gives him a chance and they go out on a date.

Art’s rubbing his eyes when it’s over.

Patrick gets back on the bed next to him. “That was nice right?”

Art’s clearly trying to hide his feelings so he just nods and when he feels okay to use his voice he says. “Seems kinda deep for you.”

“Well I can be deep,” Patrick smirks. He curls his fingers into Art’s hair. “I mean it’s cool right? They were happy.”

”I always wonder where they imagine movies like this to happen? San Francisco probably.” Art laughs, lightly. He looks away from Patrick and Patrick puts his hand back by his side.

“Well I think it could happen anywhere but good thing you're going to California soon.” Patrick says, just as light.

Art looks at him again and then looks at his lap. “I mean it wasn’t just her that made me feel…” he murmurs.

“Me too,” Patrick says.

“So I don’t know…I mean I’m not gay but…but maybe I’m something else…”

“I definitely am.”

Art sighs. “You make me something else.”

“Is that so bad?” Patrick asks.

Art rubs his hands on his thighs and then leans in and gives Patrick a kiss.

(Had to google if Netflix existed in 2006 😭😭 it did but they mailed dvds. Also I made Patrick lie. Movies definitely make you gay. Look what Challengers has done to me!!)

[ruh--roh-raggy]

Alone With You (William Afton x Fem! Reader) FLUFF - Part 1

Hello hello! So, uh, this was supposed to be a short one shot. It is now... not... that-- Anyways! I have missed writing for this big beautiful man. Any warnings will be labeled throughout each part. So enjoy Will laying it on thick, Henry trying his best to be a wingman, and a reader who is maybe just a little too obsessed with how huge Will is compared to them, but I'll let you be the judge of that. Let me know what you think, I love getting comments! If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please let me know!

WARNINGS: CW! scene with aggressive man, threats of violence, other than that tooth rotting fluff, Boss! Will, age gap (Reader is in her late 20's, Will is in his early 50's), AU where Will isn't a murderer, mutual pining, flirting, dad jokes, Will being his usual awkward adorable self, Home Sweet Home adjacent, a love letter to the wonderful story "Bunny Ears" by @yellowbunnydreams that falls into a very similar vein as this, I think that's everything, if I missed any let me know!

You can find my Masterlist here! ~ AO3 Link! ~ Tip Jar!

Word Count: 7,000

Part 2

You hummed quietly along to the song that crackled over the radio in the pizzeria, laughing to yourself as you pulled out some of the noodle ball yo-yo’s from the box, shaking them slightly to watch their rubbery tendrils dance. “These things are so dumb looking.” You chuckle before dropping them into their respective prize box. You perked up slightly at the sound of your name being spoken behind you. You turned to find one of the co-owners standing on the other side of the counter. “Good morning Mr. Afton.” You greet him with a bright smile. You noticed that his usual stoic expression cracked slightly, offering you a small smile of his own.

“Good morning.” He can’t help but breathe out a laugh over how bubbly you were so early, the restaurant hadn’t even opened yet and you were already as warm and personable as ever. “Would you like any help over here? I know we got a pretty big restock in.” You glanced at the pile of boxes at your side that nearly came up to your shoulder.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.” You grimace slightly as your attention turns back to him.

“Not at all, happy to help.” He carefully cuffs the sleeves of his dark purple dress shirt. You struggle to keep your eyes off of his strong forearms, the thin silver scars that littered his tan skin almost seemed to glow under the coarse dark hair that littered his arms that had always captivated you. You managed to tear your eyes away from him the moment he finished the task. “Alright,” he claps his hands together, “let's get this show on the road.” Despite his reputation, you always found that it was actually rather comfortable to be working so closely with Mr. Afton. Your boss was known for being a bit of a recluse. He never really left parts and services unless he and the other owner, Mr. Emily, were doing one of their walks in the Spring Bonnie and Fredbear suits. You remember when you first started working at Freddy’s that the other employees would always tell you how terrified they were of Mr. Afton. But, out of every conversation you have had with him, he’s been nothing but kind towards you. You let out a surprised squeak as he bumps into you slightly. “I am so sorry.” He rushes to apologize, you giggle at his worried expression.

“It’s okay Mr. Afton. I’m a lot tougher than I look, I promise.” You smile jokingly, flexing your arm. He chuckles, shaking his head slightly.

“I’m sure you are, rabbit.” He mutters barely loud enough for you to hear, you almost missed the nickname he had slipped onto the end. You smiled softly, turning back to your work as your cheeks grew warm.

“Oh perfect, you’re both here!” You turned to find Mr. Emily had walked up to the prize counter. He smiles warmly at you, “good morning honey, how are you?”

“I’m good Mr. Emily, almost done with the prize counter thanks to Mr. Afton.” You notice out of the corner of your eye how the taller man awkwardly stuffs his hands into his pockets, his attention dropping to the floor.

“Good, I’m glad Will was able to help. Jared was supposed to have done this last night, I’ll have to talk to have a word with him. I’m sorry you ended up having to take care of this.” He apologizes, his expression quickly brightening again as he remembered why he was there to begin with. “Will, I put your sweatshirts in your office. And for you, my dear,” He hands over the neatly folded purple fabric. “The rest of yours are in my office, but this is the one you asked if I could have custom ordered for you, I figured you’d want to wear that one first.” He chuckles, his eyes darting in between you and his business partner. You swallowed thickly, knowing he was expecting you to put it on.

“Custom order, huh?” Mr. Afton chimes in before his attention turns to you. “You must be pretty special, he won’t even let me custom order things.” He chuckles.

“Oh, I think you’ll like this design Will, I had one made up for you as well.” Mr. Emily practically sings. Your face felt like it was on fire, you could feel your palms starting to sweat as you gripped on tightly to the material. You timidly unfolded it before pulling it over your head. The soft fabric blanketed your body, you took a moment to unzip the short ¼ zipper to fold over the collar of the sweatshirt. You pushed up the sleeves to your elbows, finally catching sight of the bright yellow Spring Bonnie that stood out sharply against the dark purple background. You reluctantly let your eyes trail back up to your bosses. Mr. Emily stood with a proud smile on his face, arms crossed over his chest as he marveled at his work. Mr. Afton stared at the emblem on the sweatshirt with a shocked expression, his jaw hanging open until he realized you were looking. He quickly snapped it shut, straightening himself up as he tried to regain his composure.

“Spring Bonnie, huh?” He asks before clearing his throat, his voice cracking slightly as he pushes the question out.

You look away timidly, scuffing the toe of your sneaker against the black and white checkered floor. “Yeah, he’s always been my favorite, sir.” You admit bashfully. It took him a moment to respond, the silence that hung thick in the air making your heart pound in your chest.

“Well, you made a great request, it looks great on you.” Your gaze snaps back up to him, his eyes widening slightly as he realizes what he had just said. He doesn’t say another word, he simply turns on his heels and power walks towards the back of the restaurant, practically crashing through the door that led to parts and services. Mr. Emily shook his head, blinking in confusion before turning back to you.

“We have a party at noon, I’d like you to come help with Fredbear and Spring Bonnie once Meredith gets here.” You look nervously at the door to parts and services and then back to your boss.

“Yes sir, um, did I say something to upset Mr. Afton?” You ask timidly.

Mr. Emily chuckles, shaking his head. “No, I think he's flattered that Spring Bonnie is your favorite. He just doesn't know how to take a compliment.” He teases his friend.

“Okay,” you let out a small laugh yourself, shaking your head slightly. “Mer should be here around eleven, I'll head back to your office around then.”

“Sounds good to me, thank you in advance.” He smiles warmly before hurrying off. 

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William collapsed into his chair with an aggravated groan. “Goddamn am I out of practice.” He shakes his head. “It looks great on you.” He repeats himself in a mocking tone. “Get a fucking grip, Will.” Henry bursts into the room, looking at Will with an expression of pure disbelief.

“What in the faz-fuck was that?” He kicks the door shut behind him. “You don’t just tell the girl she looks nice and run off.”

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” He snaps through gritted teeth. “I’m sure she doesn’t want some creepy old man flirting with her.”

“Will, you’re the farthest thing from a creepy old man.” His friend reassures him with a firm nod. “You’re one of those… what are the young people calling them now… a DILF?”

“A what?” William laughs loudly.

“A DILF, you know, a dad I’d like to- whatever, it’s not important. What is important is we need to fix whatever the hell just happened there.” Henry exclaims as he points dramatically outside. “You used to be the biggest flirt I knew in college, what the hell happened?”

“I got married is what happened.” Will responds gruffly. “The second I put a ring on that woman’s finger, any sort of spark we had was gone.” He grumbles. “I haven’t flirted with anyone in twenty odd years.”

“Well we need to get you up to speed my friend.” Henry chuckles, clapping the taller man on the shoulder.

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The first hour or so of your shift was spent running the prize counter, excited groups of kids running up to the plexiglass case and asking how much for whichever particular prize had caught their eye.

“Sorry I'm late, traffic was a nightmare at the center.” Meredith huffs as she hurriedly pulls on her newly appointed sweatshirt. “Aw, you got a Spring Bonnie one, that's cute.” She smiles.

“Apparently, Mr. Emily took it upon himself to get me and Mr. Afton matching ones.” You chuckle. “Also, I'm scheduled for a walk in an hour, so I'll be back.” You hurriedly excuse herself before she has a chance to ask any questions. The silence that surrounds you as the door to the main pizzeria shuts is all consuming. You took a deep breath, it was the first time it had been quiet since you had arrived at work. You stretched, rolling your shoulders back before starting down the hallway. You had done this job plenty of times, it was honestly one of the best parts of your week. You knocked hesitantly on the door to parts and services, listening for the soft ‘come in’ from Mr. Afton inside. He says your name softly, a smile lacing its way across his lips.

“Perfect timing, I was just about to get into costume.” He groans as he stands, carefully undoing the buttons on his dress shirt. You had seen him go through this process dozens of times, but even now it still amazes you to watch him get into the suit. Something so expertly crafted by his own hands, as dangerous as it was beautiful, if the slightest thing were to go wrong that suit held the potential to kill him where he stood. “You mind giving me a hand?” He asks with a charming smile. You nod, hurrying to his side. He inserts a turnkey into Spring Bonnie’s torso, pulling the internal supports out of the way in order for his body to fit inside. Your eyes burned into the section of the suit you were staring at. In the brief glance you had allowed yourself to have, you had noticed how his muscles almost seemed to glow with the thin sheen of sweat that had formed from working on animatronics all day. The black tank top that stretched tightly across his toned chest left no room for speculation about just how strong Mr. Afton was. He takes hold of your hand, swapping it out for his on the key. “Hold it tight, okay?” He instructs gently. You nod, trailing his movements as he picks up the torso and slips it over his head. He places his hand loosely over yours. “I got it rabbit, you can slip your hand out.” He says quietly, focusing intensely on the internal supports. You carefully do as he asks, earning a hushed “beautiful” from him. He makes sure that everything is secured in place before pulling out the key, and slowly releasing the breath he had been holding. “So far so good.” He chuckles. You repeat the same process with the legs and arms, leaving him fully suited up minus the yellow rabbit’s head.

“Your bowtie’s a little crooked.” You point out with a bashful smile. “Mind if I straighten it out?”

“Not at all.” You take a step closer to him, running your fingers over the soft purple fabric. You carefully adjust the bowtie back into its proper position.

“There, now Spring Bonnie will look as handsome as possible.” You giggle, your cheeks growing warm as he shoots you a playful smile in response. You quickly pull your hands away from him as Mr. Emily walks in the room. He chat’s happily with you and Mr. Afton as he expertly gets himself into his own suit.

“It should be a relatively easy walk, just take it slow, there are a lot of kids out there at the moment.” Mr. Emily explains.

“Just another Thursday, Henry.” Mr. Afton responds with a chuckle. “You should have a pretty easy time, but you’re already an expert at this as it is.” He offers you a lopsided smile that you can’t help but return. He glances up at the clock. “Well, it’s showtime boys and girls.” He grabs the mascot head from his workbench, quickly slipping it over his head. Mr. Emily copied his actions, looking in the mirror by the door to make sure Fredbear’s hat was on correctly before following you out into the hallway. You knew from experience that Mr. Afton had a harder time seeing out of the suit than Mr. Emily, having to remove his glasses before putting the costume on. You reached back, allowing your hand to bump into the fingers of the Spring Bonnie costume, offering to lead Mr. Afton to the picture spot so he wouldn’t have to worry about stumbling. He allows his hand to engulf yours, following closely behind you as you wound your way expertly through the excited groups of kids. You brought them to a well lit corner of the restaurant that was specifically set up for pictures. You step in front of both of them as they step into their spots.

“Mr. Fredbear, Mr. Spring Bonnie, let me know if you need anything.” You smile warmly at the pair before heading off to interact with the crowd that had formed around the performers. For the most part your day went on like normal, you kept the hoard of kids and parents alike organized enough to keep your bosses from getting overwhelmed by all the people wanting pictures or just to meet their favorite anthropomorphic animal friend. That was until you noticed one little girl who appeared to be hiding off to the side. She clutched a yellow rabbit plush to her chest, nervously shuffling her feet as she watched the rest of the kids run up excitedly to the mascots. You looked around to find no one appeared to be waiting with her, so you decided to see if you could help. You approach the girl with a friendly smile and a wave. “I noticed you're looking a bit down friend, is everything okay?” She looks between you and the crowd behind you.

“I want to go say hi to Spring Bonnie but I'm scared.” She admits in a tiny, shaky voice.

“Well, that’s definitely no fun. Why don't you tell me what's scaring you, maybe I can help.” You offer kindly.

“There's just a lot of big kids, and Spring Bonnie looks a lot bigger than he does in the pictures too.” You noticed how she absentmindedly tugged at one of the rabbits ears in an attempt to comfort herself.

“Can I let you in on a big secret?” You lower your voice to just above a whisper, making the girl lean in to listen with wide, excited eyes. “I happen to be best friends with Spring Bonnie and Fredbear.” You nod in response to the shocked gasp she let out. You held out your hand, introducing yourself to the girl, her black pigtails bouncing in time with her growing excitement.

“My name’s Addie.” She responds with a gapped tooth smile.

“Well, Miss Addie, since we're friends, why don't I take you to meet my other friend Spring Bonnie so you can say hi!” She nods, looking at the crowd with some remaining apprehension. “Still a lot of scary big kids, huh?” She hurriedly responds, proving you right. “I'll tell you what, if you hold my hand, I promise no one will bother you.” She timidly takes your hand, letting you guide her in the direction of Spring Bonnie and Fredbear. She clung to your leg as you approached the large golden rabbit's side. “Excuse me Mr. Spring Bonnie.” You couldn't help the smile that passed over your lips as you noticed the man inside the suit straighten up at the sound of your voice. “My friend Addie is very excited to meet you, but she's a little nervous.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, like a dog hearing an unfamiliar sound. He dramatically looks around for someone the same height as you before letting his gaze drop a little lower, making a small startled movement when his eyes land on the girl. You feel her grip tighten on your hand, inching herself further behind you. “Still a little too scary up close, huh?” You kneel down beside her, bringing yourself closer to his height. “I promise, Spring Bonnie wouldn't hurt a fly, you don't have to be scared of him.” You try to reassure her

“How do you know?” She asks timidly.

“Here, I'll show you he's not so scary.” You give her a comforting smile, softly squeezing her hand in reassurance before standing back up. You walked up to the large yellow rabbit, giving him a small, bashful smile before pushing yourself up onto your toes and pressing a quick peck to the tip of the suit's nose. “See, he's not scary at all.” Seeing the fact you managed to get face to face with the monster bunny seemed to put Addie’s nerves at ease. You could feel Mr. Afton’s gaze burning into the side of your face before his attention was pulled away by the little girl. She bravely approaches him, reaching out to tap a finger against his arm.

“Excuse me, Spring Bonnie.” She squeaks before pulling a folded up picture out of the chest pocket of her bright blue overalls. “I made you a drawing.” Spring Bonnie excitedly motions to the drawing, passing it off to you as he knelt down in front of her. He opens his arms signaling he was asking for a hug but he waited for Addie to make the first move. She nervously looks up at you for guidance, you give her a reassuring nod, silently signaling that it was okay. She slots herself into his arm, giving the suit a tight squeeze with her little arms. You unfold the drawing for Spring Bonnie to look at, your smaller, ungloved fingers a much better fit for the task. You hand it over to him, smiling as you watch the interaction of him silently fawning over her masterpiece that she made just for him, making Addie giggle. The drawing depicted Addie holding onto Spring Bonnie's hand, best friends scrawled across the bottom of the page in blocky purple letters.

“Addie, there you are!” You turn quickly to see a very worried looking mother making her way towards you. “I told you I'd come see Spring Bonnie with you honey, you didn't have to run off.” She chuckles, kneeling down as her daughter crashes into her arms. “See? I told you he wasn't going to be scary.”

“My new friend was a big help.” She beams up at you.

“Miss Addie was very brave. Thank you for coming to say hello to Mr. Spring Bonnie.” She runs up and gives the rabbit one last tight hug around his leg before heading off with her mother. You glanced up at the clock, realizing the scheduled 30 minutes was up you collected the two men and dismissed them to the back without much of a fuss. “Would you like any help Mr. Emily?” You ask as you take the Fredbear head from him, setting it gently on the workbench.

“I should be all set, Will might like your help though.” He nods in his co owner's direction. You noticed him struggling to take off the head, the thick, fabric fingers making it difficult for his hands to properly articulate.

“Would you like some help, Mr. Afton?” You ask sweetly.

“Please, these stupid gloves make it impossible to hold onto anything.” He chuckles. You carefully take hold of the mask, your body pressing into the Spring Bonnie suits plush stomach as you struggle to accommodate for your boss's massive stature. You push the head up enough for him to get a proper hold on it in order for it to be removed. He blinked a couple times as he left the dark confines of the head, continuing to squint as his eyes adjusted to the light. A soft smile finds its way to your lips as you pick up his glasses off of his work bench, unfolding the stems and presenting them neatly to him. His eyes drop to the gold wire frames, looking back at you with a charming lopsided smile that makes your heart pound. “Thank you rabbit.” He quickly pulls off one of his gloves to accept the item. Running his finger through his hair in an attempt to put back the sweaty tendrils that had fallen and stuck to his forehead. As he takes them from you he leans in slightly to whisper, “you know, if you wanted a kiss from Spring Bonnie you should've just asked.” Your cheeks grew warm, you stumble slightly over a toolbox on the floor, the loud clattering catching Mr. Emily’s attention.

“Well don't kill the poor girl.” He rushes to your side in order to steady you. “Honestly Will, the amount of times I've told you about leaving your tools around.” He continues to fuss over you for a moment, you reassured him you were just a bit startled by the noise. Your eyes met Mr. Afton’s, a playful glimmer in his gaze as he slowly trailed over your form. He shakes his head slightly, massaging the bridge of his nose under his glasses before quickly turning away. 

“I should probably get back to the floor.” You state softly, slowly backing up towards the door. You pause when Mr. Afton calls your name.

“Thanks for all the help today.” The corners of your mouth quirk up in a smile.

“Happy to help.” You noticed him pause briefly, it registering in his mind how he had said something similar in regards to your thanks earlier. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, letting your gaze linger on him for a bit longer than necessary before slipping out into the hallway.

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“She's not going to want some creepy old man flirting with her.” Henry mocks Will’s statement from earlier. “I don't know Will, she seems pretty sweet on you already.” Will didn't miss the mischievous smirk that quickly passed over his friend's features.

“Henry, don't you fucking dare.” He points an accusatory finger at him. “The last thing I need is for you getting your hands involved in my love life.” He grumbles.

Henry turns to Will, giving him an incredulous look. “Did we- did we witness the same attempt at you flirting earlier?”

“I'm rusty!” He snaps in response.

“Rusty isn't the word for it, my friend.” Henry chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans up against one of the workbenches along the wall. “I've been in a happy, loving marriage for almost thirty years, just saying.” He raises his hands in front of him innocently. Will just stares blankly back at him, waiting for Henry to whip out some punchline to prove he was fucking with him. He couldn't seriously be suggesting that he should ask you on a date. But he knew that look in Henry’s eyes, the pair had been best friends nearly their entire lives, it would be a hard detail to miss. Henry wasn't just serious about helping him flirt with you, he was excited, and an excitable Henry Emily is something Will adamantly tried to avoid. Henry sighs, seeing Will’s apprehension wasn't wavering in the slightest. “Listen, think what you want. You're too old to get back in the game, she's too young for you, whatever. But, Will, I wished you noticed how her eyes sparkle when she looks at you. I think that would give you all the confidence you need.” He jumps as his pager goes off, quickly pulling it from his belt. “Gotta run, problem at the front. Think on it for a while, okay?” Will cringes slightly as Henry slams the door behind him.

“Her eyes sparkle when she looks at me, huh?” Will chuckles, running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “Henry, I think you're just a hopeless romantic.”

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Your fists shook from their position clenched at your side. Leaving parts and services behind you walked out onto the main floor only to find one of the new hostesses getting screamed at by an upset patron. You immediately rushed over to help, placing yourself in between the terrified teenager and the middle aged man who needed to learn some manners. You didn't even get through asking what the problem was before all his anger was directed at you. Apparently, the issue was that his beer had been knocked over by one of the dozens of children that raced around the establishment, and from the smell coming off of him you could tell he probably should've been cut off a while ago. “I expect to be compensated for the entire fucking visit. I am absolutely appalled at the state this place is in! Where's your manager, both of you need to be fucking fired for how poorly you treat customers.” At the threat of losing her job the hostess you had rescued started to cry. “See? They have fucking children running this place, ridiculous.”

“Sir, this conversation doesn't involve her anymore, I would appreciate it if you left her out of it.” Despite trying to keep your voice calm you couldn't hide the definitive snap of your anger bubbling up. Being here as long as you had, you’ve grown pretty close with most of the employees here. As cheesy as it sounds they were your family, and you would be damned if you were going to let this drunk asshole disrespect your family.

“Oh, all high and mighty over here, are we?” He waves his hands in front of him. “What? You want a fucking prize for trying to be a hero?” You heard Mr. Emily call your name from across the restaurant as he struggled to push through the crowd that had surrounded the commotion.

“What I want is for the drunk in front of me to stop berating one of my hostesses-” You were cut off, wincing away as he swung to strike you across the face. Much to your surprise the slap never came. You turned back to the man, ready to beat him to the ground, but it appeared that someone had beaten you to the punch, literally.

William Afton was on top of the man in the blink of an eye. Hauling his short, fat frame from the floor by his collar, leaving the man's toes barely skimming the neon patterned carpet. The man let out a shocked sound and began to protest, whatever clever response he had dreamed up died in his throat as a deep guttural growl left your boss. He slams the man up against the wall, you struggle to stop yourself from laughing as you watch him attempt to stretch himself to the floor. “Apparently, we need a crash course in how to keep our hands to ourselves.” Mr. Afton snarls.

“If it wasn't for the fact that she-” he quickly raises an arm to point at you.

“If you don't want to lose that finger I suggest you drop it.” His tone was dangerous, something you had never seen from him before. You were finally snapped from your trance by Mr. Emily gently shakes your shoulder and calls your name.

“Honey, come on. Come sit down in my office, just let him handle this.” He fusses over you as he leads you towards the back of the restaurant. The muffled, far off sound of Mr. Afton’s voice as he yelled at the man who had tried to assault you was drowned out when the door slammed shut behind you. You thudded into the cushions of the couch in his office, he pulled a bottle of water out of the mini fridge under his desk, handing it over to you and instructing you to drink it slowly. He quickly hurried out of the office once again, leaving you to sit in silence. You scrunched up your face uncomfortably, the painful thudding of your heart against your ribs finally registering. You felt a tear drip off your jaw and onto your lap, it took you a moment to realize you were crying. The door to Mr. Emily’s office opened softly, you looked over to find Mr. Afton peering around the door.

“Don’t look at me like that, you look like you’re about to apologize for something.” You attempt to joke to lighten the mood.

“Of course I’m going to apologize, rabbit, this happened on my watch.” He tries to argue.

“It’s not your fault that guy’s a douchebag.” He cautiously takes a few steps closer to you, kneeling down in front of your position seated on the couch.

“He didn’t get his hands on you, did he?” You shake your head, eyes trailing down to your lap. He chewed the inside of his cheek as his eyes traced over the terrified expression that had settled itself on your face.

You sniff, smiling up at him through teary eyes. “He probably hits like a bitch anyways.” He chuckles, pushing some stray hair out of your face. You sniff, “that was just really scary.” He tuts quietly, pulling you into a warm embrace.

“I’m going to kill him if I ever see again.” He grumbles. “No one hurts my rabbit.” Your eyes widened slightly as your cheeks grew warm. He cradles you against him for a moment, your body easily relaxing in his arms.

You jump as Mr. Emily bursts back into the room. “He managed to squeak out before I could call the cops.” He huffs. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine Mr. Emily, promise.” You attempt to reassure him. He sighs, still eying you with a worried expression.

“Will, drive her home, make sure she gets something to eat.” He waves at his friend. “I’m giving you the rest of the weekend off with pay, go rest up.”

“Oh, Mr. Emily you don’t have to-”

“Weekend! With pay! This is non-negotiable, young lady!” He exclaims dramatically. 

“Come on rabbit.” Will chuckles, helping you up off the sofa. “Let’s get you something to eat.” Your hand lingers in his for a little longer than necessary, his striking silver eyes scanning over your features. You opened the door to Mr. Emily’s office only to find all of your coworkers crowded around outside. They all froze at the sight of Mr. Afton, knowing how bad it looked that they all had abandoned the floor. He sighs, glancing down at you and back up at them. “She’s okay. If any of you see that guy around here again you come tell me or Mr. Emily, he’s permanently banned from Freddy’s.” You feel the warmth of his palm spread across your back as he places a hand in between your shoulders. “I just wish we could've done more to teach that asshole a lesson.”

“Mr. Afton, you literally threw him out into the parking lot. If Mer hadn't stopped you it seemed like you probably would've handled the job pretty well.” One of the cooks chuckles only to be met with a collective murmur of approval from the group.

“Unfortunately, no matter how much I would've loved to watch you beat that guy into the pavement, it wouldn't be worth getting you locked up.” You glanced up at him only to find a semi surprised expression on his face. This was the first time he had witnessed such unwavering respect from all of his employees. Your attention is drawn to Meredith as she says your name, “you going to be alright?”

“Yeah, I should be okay.” Your cheeks grew warm as you continued to explain the situation. “Mr. Afton’s going to drive me home.” You scanned over the group. “Where's Katie?” You watched a few of them shuffle out of the way as she was shoved to the front, her cheeks stained with tears as she looked down at the floor.

“It's all my fault that guy tried to hit you, I'm so sorry.” She sniffles.

“Hey,” you grab her gently by the shoulder, “that guy was a douchebag, I want to make sure you're okay.” At your genuine concern she broke down again, pulling you into a hug as she apologized repeatedly.

“Ryan, she comes in with you right?” Mr. Afton asks her boyfriend, who nods. “Both of you get out of here, I'll fix your time cards.” He nods to the doors. “The rest of you get back to the floor.” There was a hurried bunch of yessir’s and affirmative sounds as they hurried back out to their positions, Ryan taking Katie out the back door so they could leave. “Right, now that everyone knows you're okay,” the two of you share a laugh at all your coworkers' concern, “how about we go get something to eat, if that's alright with you.”

“I think that sounds like a great idea.” You smile at him, allowing him to lead you outside. He seemed nervous as he fumbled his keys from his pocket, nearly dropping them on the ground in the process. “What kind of food do you like?” He asks as he slides into the driver's seat next to you.

“I'm not picky, whatever works for me.” You reassure him. He grips the steering wheel tightly, swallowing thickly before turning to look at you.

“At the risk of sounding like an absolute creep, would you like to come back to my house so I can cook for you?” At the question your heart began to pound in your chest. He wanted you to come back to his house with him?

“You want to cook for me?” You couldn't stop a smile from lacing its way across your lips as you repeated the question back to him. “Why?”

“All the restaurants around here are pretty shitty,” he responds with a chuckle, “I happen to know my way around the kitchen pretty well… only if that's something you're comfortable with, of course.”

“If it's not too much trouble, Mr. Afton-”

“Will… you, um, you can call me Will.” His silver eyes met yours, your breath freezing in your lungs. “And it's no trouble at all. I'm looking forward to spending time with you.” He admits with a lopsided grin. You let out a flustered giggle before responding.

“I am too.” Will didn’t miss the nervous excitement in your tone. 

You pulled down the long gravel driveway, the thick fir trees acting as a tunnel that eventually opened to reveal a modest, pale yellow colonial tucked away nicely into the wilderness. “It must be nice not having to worry about neighbors.” You chuckle.

“What can I say? I like my privacy.” He jokes in response. You stick close to him as you head onto the porch, every snapping branch making you jump as you wait for him to unlock the door. “Don’t worry rabbit, I won’t let anything hurt you.” He promises with a coy smile. He pushes the door open, motioning for you to walk in ahead of him. Will’s house was furnished simply, there wasn’t much decoration outside of the basic necessities. A well loved, comfortable looking couch and matching loveseat sat around a well kept fireplace, from the fresh logs that sat inside it appeared to have been used recently. The walls were completely bare, painted a pale sage green with ivory trim, a stark contrast from his fellow co owner who practically had an entire family album strewn across his desk. “It’s not much–” 

“It’s cozy, I like it.” You reassure him with a soft smile.

“Well…” he starts, “It definitely feels a lot more like a home with you in it.” Your heart thudded loudly in your chest, your eyes meeting Will’s the instant the words tumbled from his lips. “You know, I just… I just don’t have company that often… it feels more like a home when there’s someone besides just me here.” He laughs awkwardly. You let out a shy giggle, your gaze quickly trailing to the floor.

“I’ll have to make this more than a one time visit then.” He takes your hand in his, gingerly bringing your knuckles to his lips, his thumb trailing over your skin, dulling the electric buzz that ran through your fingers from the small gesture.

“I’d really like that rabbit.” Your cheeks grow warm, the two of you exchanging a soft smile as he guides you in the direction of the kitchen.

“How would you like me to help?” Will gives you a shocked look, studying you carefully as a playful grin laces its way across his lips.

He can’t help but chuckle as he watches you roll up your sleeves, your usual bubbliness radiating from behind whatever nerves you were currently experiencing. “You want to help me cook?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Will laughs at your blunt response.

“Alright,” he holds up his hands in defeat, “no need to get so hostile.” You felt yourself relax as laughter of your own bubbled up in your throat. Your eyes met his, warmth spreading through your chest as butterflies erupted in your stomach. In that moment it really settled in just how right all of this felt.

Will sat across from you at the small, circular dining room table, a cluster of randomly assorted scented candles served as your lighting. You swirled around the dark red wine you held in your hand before taking a sip, Will was completely captivated as he watched the glass come to rest against your lips. “Thank you for dinner.” You speak up after a few moments of silence.

“I should be thanking you,” he says with a chuckle, “you were a big help.” The way his silver eyes seemed to almost glow in the dim light made your heart race, he looked at you with such fondness in his expression. “Rabbit, you look very beautiful tonight.”

You can’t help but giggle at his compliment, your cheeks growing warm as his gaze holds you in place. “Thank you Will.” You trail a finger around the rim of your glass, struggling to keep the dumb smile off your face.

“You’re blushing.” He remarks with a proud smirk.

“I am not!” You respond immediately, your flustered tone not masked in the slightest by your loud laughter. He just simply smiles, his gaze trailing over your features, mapping out every single curve and angle. You glanced at the clock, letting out a regretful sigh when you realized how late it had gotten. “I should probably get heading home.”

“Wow, when did it get so late?” He remarks in awe, finally noticing the time as well. “I’m sorry to have kept you–” The words die in his throat as he feels the warmth of your much smaller hands slowly cover his own.

“I had a really nice time with you tonight, Will.” The comment hung in the air for a moment as he thought of how to respond.

“Maybe… Maybe we could do this again sometime then?” His voice came out softly, barely more than a murmur, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of you gently holding his hand in your own.

“I’d like that.” You respond in a similar tone. You let your thumb slowly trail over his, the callouses he had built up over years of hard manual labor were rough under your fingertips. You reluctantly pulled your hand back, folding it neatly in your lap with the other.

The ride back to your house was spent in a tense silence, neither of you knowing exactly what to say at the moment. Your chest tightens as he shifts the car into park, you notice out of the corner of your eye how his mouth falls open to speak but no words come out at first. You turn to face him, prepared to say your goodbye for the evening, but your voice died in your throat when your eyes met his. He scanned over your face, his gaze eventually landing on your lips. For a brief moment the thought of how his scruff would feel as he kissed you flashed through your mind, how warm his hand would be against your cheek as he pulled you in closer. You shook the idea off before you could entertain it any further.

“I guess I will see you next week.” Every word tumbled slowly from his lips, not wanting to have to leave you a moment sooner than necessary.

“Unfortunately Mr. Emily seemed pretty serious about the whole weekend with pay, so next week it is.” You laugh demurely.

“If you need anything, you give me a call, okay?” You swallow thickly at his husky tone.

You nod, “okay.” You reach for the handle on the door, hesitating as your fingers wrap around the cool metal. Will began to fidget with the radio as he struggled to keep his eyes off of you, the soft crackling the only sound to break up the otherwise deafening silence. In one swift movement, you turned, lips landing on Will’s cheek. He sat motionless as you pulled back, his jaw hung slack in shock as he tried to process what had just happened. “Goodnight, Will.” You whisper as you hurriedly open the door.

“Goodnight, rabbit.” He can’t help but let his eyes trail after you as you stand, drinking in one last sight of you before you have to part ways. Both of you are already dreading the eternity of spending the weekend apart.

Tag List: @zoey5252 @loudchaosking @weirdoartist21 @lokanda @emmbny @yukkkiki @dij-ology @maria-moll @phd-in-fuckery @helreyy @hallucinating-xoxo (if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please let me know!)

[catt-leya]

Need a rick Grimes anal smut like could u imagine letting this man put it in there like I know he's thick as well imagine it's Ur first time and it hurts a little but knowing he's getting so much pleasure from it ugh 🤤🤣like he gets off on u being so vulnerable haha anyways-

Trust || Rick Grimes 18+

Hey sweethearts 👉🏼👈🏼 it's my first time writing something like this and most of the time I didn't know what I was doing 👉🏼👈🏼💗 Gosh I don't remember the last time I was so freaking insecure about posting something...but yeah here it is 🥴💗

Warnings: anal sex, praise kink and my usual smutty stuff

"Darling?", Rick deep voice enters your ear from your bedroom and you call out, "Yes?"

You slide the brush through your still-damp hair and step into the doorway to take a look at your boyfriend.

Rick is leaning against the headboard of the bed with his hands clasped behind his head, "I'd like to ask you something."

His upper arms bulge and tighten his shirt as he moves a little and you mumble distractedly, "Yeah, sure. Hang on a sec. I'll be right there."

With one last glance at Rick, you turn and blow out the candle before setting your brush down next to the sink and stepping into the bedroom, smiling.

Swinging, you drop onto your bed and pull your knees up to your chest, "So?"

Rick drops his arms and your eyes dart over his heavy curls that fall low on his face. Without thinking, you reach out and brush it from his gorgeous blue eyes, then placing your hand on his beard-covered cheek and gently tugging at his gray hair, "What do you want to ask me?"

Calculating, he looks at you, thinking about how to phrase his question so as not to scare you off. Not that you're scared and insecure, but he knows that the question he wants to ask you would make you cringe. He just knows it.

So he reaches out and pulls you closer until you're kneeling beside him and he doesn't take his eyes off you, "I want you to do something for me."

Irritated, you furrow your eyebrows and rest your hand flat on his stomach, "Okay? And what do you want me to do for you?"

Gently tugging at the fabric of his shirt, he slides a hand to your hip as his eyes flash, "Would you let me take you from behind?"

Astonished by his question, you shrug, "Yeah? Why not?"

It's not like Rick hasn't pushed you across a table to fuck you from behind before. It's nothing special, per se, and especially nothing he'd have to explicitly ask you to do beforehand.

His hand slides from your hip to your ass and he squeezes, "Not the way you think, darling."

Rick can tell by your face when it clicks in your head and you understand what he's getting at.

Your pretty face flushes red and you mumble, "Is that what you want?"

"Hmhm," his body vibrates under your palm and you wince.

Actually, you shouldn't be surprised that he asked you. 

Most of all, you should have expected it.

Never would he do anything without your consent, but every once in a while, as he bent you over the kitchen counter and fucked you dumb until your hips bruised from his hard thrusts, he would press his thumb very gently against your second entrace and yes, with the squeeze on both sides, you had the orgasm of your life every time. But he never brought it up to you and you always skirted the issue too. 

Until now.

Just the thought of you so vulnerably sticking your butt up in the air to get fucked in the ass and shaking with fear that it would hurt turns him on. 

So much so that his pupils grow huge and you look into his dark eyes as you ask uncertainly, "Now?"

He lowers his eyes to your lips, "Yes, darling. Now."

You're really not averse to all of this, and you know that Rick would never intentionally hurt you so much that you couldn't take it. 

But even with that guy who took your virginity in the backseat at your school, you were incredibly insecure and scared, as you are now, as you close your fist around his shirt and breathe in a shaky voice, "Okay."

Slowly, he straightens up a little until he's close to your plump lips and whispers, "You trust me, right?"

You nod and he hums, "Then trust me to take care of you and to stop when you don't want to anymore."

Again you nod and he connects his lips with yours.

His kiss is gentle and comforting, even as he pushes you down onto the mattress by the shoulder and slides over you, careful not to smother you with his significantly larger body.

Rick's gray beard, which has grown a bit longer than he would normally wear it, scrapes across your soft cheek and he breaks away from your lips to place small kisses on your jaw, running his hands along the sides of your body, "My pretty girl. Will you spread your legs for me?"

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he pushes your legs further apart with his hips and his head wandering lower.

Your breath stops for a moment as he pushes up your sleep shirt, which is actually his, and spreads wet kisses around your belly button.

A soft whimper escapes your lips, "Rick..." as your legs start to shake from him being so close, already clenching greedily.

"Yes, darling?", usually Rick is more the rough and harsh type but today even his voice is soft as velvet and you squirm as he presses his thumb against the fabric of your panties covering your dampening pussy.

You don't even know what exactly you were going to say as he presses your clit through the fabric and you moan, pressing your head into the pillows.

Rick is good at everything he does and he even excels at sex. It's like he's made it his personal mission to make you cum as often as he can, and if you're honest, just looking down is almost enough to make you cum for him.

The way he kneels between your legs and the curls you brushed out of his face earlier are hanging back in front of his eyes…

He licks his lips as he looks down at your wet pussy, "Take it off, darling."

His southern drawl becomes heavier and you reach for the waistband of your panties with clammy hands.

Somewhat awkwardly, you kick your panties to the side and immediately Rick lowers his head between your legs.

At first it's just his breath hitting your twitching cunt, but still you whimper softly and he purrs, "Such a good girl. You just lie there and be pretty for me. That's all you want, right? To be pretty for me and take what I give you."

Your eyes are glued to his curly head, and when he kisses the inside of your thigh, you gasp, "Yes."

You realize he doesn't mean it, but the way he talks to you in bed turns you on so much that you cry out softly when then too his lips are on your soaking cunt and he licks over it from bottom to top.

Your clit throbs and you reach for his hair, but he pulls his head away from you and straightens up, "Turn around."

The heart in your chest stops for a moment before you obey his command and turn onto your stomach.

His callused fingers grab your hips and he pulls you to your knees so he has your ass right in front of his cock and your whole body tenses.

Rick feels your tense muscles and gently squeezes your hip, "Darling, relax. It's all good."

It's a strange mixture of arousal and fear, being so vulnerable and practically defenseless, that you flinch violently as he slides his hand between your legs and plays lightly on your pussy.

Actually, you kind of expected him to get right down to business, but instead he presses his finger into your wet cunt and you moan hoarsely.

"You're so wet, you're just going to start dripping because I'm going to plug your other hole," his voice is an octave lower and you push your ass harder towards him so he pushes a second finger inside you.

His second finger slides effortlessly inside you and you whimper his name.

You remember very clearly how it felt the first time Rick fucked you. 

It was messy and wild. 

Completely driven by desire as you narrowly escaped a herd.

Even now you know how the bark of the tree he pressed you against felt on your back. 

It was so incredibly rough and now Rick strokes his palm over that very spot, pulling his fingers out of your wet pussy to let them slide to his real target.

At first you are far too distracted by the loss of his fingers in your quivering cunt that you barely have time to tense up again when he is already pressing his wet finger into you with gentle pressure.

You tear your eyes open and want to sit up out of reflex. 

It feels so incredibly unfamiliar and strange, but immediately he grabs your neck and presses your face back into the pillows, "Stay down. Just trust me and if you don't want to anymore, tell me, okay?"

A soft cry is your agreement and you squint your eyes.

Even though it's so unfamiliar, it feels damn good and you start to relax, making Rick growl hoarsely, "Such a pretty girl. Taking my finger so well."

Moaning, you press up against him and he has to pull himself together to keep his rock hard cock from pulling out and fucking your ass immediately.

He can literally feel how excited and scared you are and fuck maybe it's wrong that this turns him on.

Your pussy twitches with every thrust of his finger and he does not even know where to look.

Your ass, which rises high or your cunt, which shines wet and the juice that runs from you down your thighs, or yet your gorgeous face that is already red with excitement.

He takes a deep breath before he pulls himself together, "Are you all right, darling?"

"Yes, Rick," your voice is so soft that his cock immediately twitches again and he moans, "Second finger?"

You nod, and he does it.

The stretch is stronger this time and you wince. 

Normally you would have lube, but today your juices between your legs will have to do.

You reach for the sheets beneath you and whimper, "Rick...I..." Your voice fails and he grunts as your little body trembles again. Fuck are you hot.

With circular motions, he continues to work his way until you're kneeling before him, whimpering with arousal.

"Is it okay, darling?"

You can barely think straight and gasp, "I'm fine."

"Hmhm," he releases his hand from your neck and reaches for his pants to pull out his thick cock and you murmur quietly, "Rick, you're big, I don't...you know."

You're not wrong. 

He's actually not badly hung, and your pussy is almost too tight to squeeze inside you at times. 

But he wants it so much that he growls, "I’ll make it fit."

His cock twitches expectantly as he spits and rubs his hand over his cock before positioning himself in front of your entrance and putting a hand on your hip so you can't slide away from him.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip as he pushes the tip of his cock into you, stretching you like you could never have imagined.

It hurts. 

Not very much, but you notice him slowly but steadily fighting resistance to be inside you, and when you hear his panting breath, you have to groan yourself.

Rick always struggles with his self-control when he's fucking you, but the sounds he's making right now as he sinks his cock completely inside you and his balls bump against your swollen cunt is the best thing you've ever heard.

His body falls forward and he just barely catches himself with his hands before he could bury you under him, "Darling..." His voice breaks and your pussy clenches.

Oh god, the feeling of having him inside you like this is intense and pleases you. Maybe even more than is good for you.

Rick doesn't move an inch and brings out, "You good?" in a clenched voice, and you gasp, "Move."

Heavily, he straightens back up and puts an arm around you again to play with your pussy as he moves as slowly as he can inside you.

The thrusts aren't necessarily, what makes you moan so much, but the twitching and squirming of Rick's cock in your ass.

He can feel you getting looser around him, rubbing against him to get more.

"That's my good girl. Give me what I want and don't complain," a jolt goes through your body and Rick pinches your clit.

Your pussy and ass are on fire and you howl pitifully, "More."

His free hand slides back to your neck, where he grabs you tightly and thrusts harder into your little body. 

Harder than he should dare, but you just moan comfortably and he's so brave and slides his fingers into your pussy too, "Guess I'll fill both holes after all, huh?"

Pathetically you nod and clench around his fingers, which makes his cock twitch and he knows you're close to cumming.

Hectically rubbing your puffy clit, he growls, "Come on, darling. Come with both holes full of me."

His rough and bossy words, make you cry out and push your ass hard against him one last time. 

So hard that his balls slap against your throbbing pussy and you spasm so hard that Rick's grip on your neck becomes almost unbearable and he collapses over your back as he grunts and whimpers, yes whimpers, as he cums inside you.

For quite a while it just stays silent and all you can hear is your heavy and rapid breathing.

Only when Rick carefully pulls out of you do you dare to open your eyes and look straight into his face as he rolls next to you.

Deep satisfaction decorates his face and you bite your lower lip, "Did you like it?"

Grinning, he pulls your weak body against his chest, "Darling, you're amazing."

You blush and bury your face in his chest, "Stop it."

"I'm serious. Not just about the sex. You're the best thing that could ever happen to me," Rick kisses the top of your head, "I love you."

Your body already hurts and you know tomorrow will definitely not be a walk in the park, but you giggle against his chest anyway, "I love you too Rick and we can do this more often."

"I knew you'd like it," his voice is teasing and you close your eyes with a grin. 

He knows you.

@hail-yourselves   @bean-is-reading   @chanlvr2   @criminalwalkingsupernatural   @sunshinevirus   @toxic-ink    @kingtwhiddleston    @bloodycherry22    @vane28282    @bamslover    @revesephemeres    @emo-potato-virgil    @mrsashleybarnes18-blog  @starsaroundmyscxrss  @starkstiless  @easystreet07 @darylsonlylove @your-shifting-gurl @strnqer

[merakimaiden]

Is there someone else or not?

Pairing : Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x reader

Genre : Angst

Word count : 1016

Summary : Ghost finally releases the green eyed monster.

Warnings : Jealous Ghost!! , shouting, uh badly written fic :(“

A/N : Based on The Weeknd - Is there someone else? Thank you @lilywastaken for beta reading <3

Ghost didn’t think that joining forces with Los Vaqueros would be hell.

You and Soap, along with Ghost, have been tasked with joining forces with the Mexican Special Forces, Los Vaqueros, led by Colonel Alejandro Vargas, to capture Hassan at a cartel safe house.

The moment the three of you stepped foot on the military base, he couldn’t help but shudder at the way Alejandro was favouring you. Alejandro was openly flirting with you in front of him. It makes him want to punch a wall.

Is there someone else or not?

You were no better. During a mission to capture Hassan, you and Alejandro made little jokes to each other, and Ghost noticed the way Alejandro stared at you when you weren’t looking.

He tried to ignore it because he didn’t know how or when to confess. Ghost has been pushing away his feelings for you for a long time, ever since you joined Task Force 141. Everything about you seems to mesmerise him. Your kindness, your aura, your smile, your gorgeous face...

‘Cause I wanna keep you close.

"Ghost, you with me?"

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Alejandro. He barked out a quick ‘affirmative' and nodded rather awkwardly. His eyes bounced to every pair of eyes staring at him, eventually falling onto yours.

You nodded at him and turned back to the group, tuning back into the discussion going on.

"-for a meet with Sin Nombre, and if he’s there,we pounce." Soap continued.

"To make it in, you’ll need eyes and ears. I’ll go too." Alejandro countered and looked at you, causing you to smile. Ghost wishes you could smile at him instead.

I don’t wanna lose my spot

"I’ll take overwatch. Shadow circles the target in a helo," Ghost interrupted to cut the scene short and get to work instead. His patience was running low with Alejandro. Everyone seemingly agreed with Ghost, all going their separate ways. You were confused as to why Ghost did not assign you a task, but you decided to camp on the hill with him anyway.

The both of you were currently at a clearing on a hill, in a prone position, eyeing the safe house ahead. You could see Alejandro and Soap discussing among themselves in the far corner of the safehouse, away from the enemy’s sight. Alejandro said that he would inform you once they were ready, so you and Ghost still had ample time.

Ghost was quiet beside you. You decided to break the silence with a dumb joke.

"Hey L.T., why did the scarecrow get an award?" You said as you adjusted your scope to get a better view.

The man beside you only sighed in reply. Not continuing further.

"Well?" You pushed, a small smile on your lips as you waited to tell the punchline.

"Tell your jokes to your little boyfriend." Ghost countered, making your smile fall.

"Boyfriend? What are you talking about-"

"Enough with the act; you know what I’m talking about. I’ve seen the way you two act around each other." He cut you off nonchalantly, adjusting his position on the ground.

"I really don’t know-"

"The colonel has a thing for you, doesn’t he?! Tell your jokes to him!" Ghost snapped at you, his head finally turning to stare at you with anger, chest heaving. Ghost wonders, how in the world could you act so oblivious to this?

You stared at him in shock. You have never heard him shout with so much fury. You blinked back tears that threatened to trail down your cheeks. You stood up and looked at him from above.

Ghost internally cursed himself. He shouldn’t have snapped at you over a childish thing. He let his jealousy get the best of him. You were allowed to talk to anyone you wanted. He quickly got up from where he laid to apologise, but now it’s your turn to snap at him.

Cause I need to know

"Why are you acting like this? What’s wrong with you?" You raised your voice in frustration, waiting for a reply.

Ghost can’t help but fight fire with fire.

"What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?!" He stepped closer, making you back off a little. "Why do you make me feel like this? Why do you torture me this way?" he continued.

You stayed silent, mouth agape. Ghost stepped back, regretting what he spat out to you, and turned away to settle back onto the ground, hoping you would forget what he said when you spoke up.

"W-what do I make you feel?" You stuttered as you knelt down to the ground, setting your sniper rifle to the side.

He sighed and turned to glance at you, then turned to his scope, abashed. He gave up and sat up instead, face downturned.

Fuck this.

"My heart beats faster when I’m around you. Have been at it for a while, actually. Didn’t know how to tell you," he said it so casually, tilting his head and gesturing with his hand—as though he didn’t just drop the biggest bomb you’ve encountered that will change the relationship between the both of you.

If you’re hurting him, or you’re hurting me

"I-do you have feelings for me… Ghost?" You tested the waters, trying to decipher whether or not you heard him correctly.

He stayed silent and just stared at you with unreadable eyes. He eventually continued.

"When I see you with h-him, my heart aches." He finished with yet another sigh, this time in shame. He placed his sniper rifle on his lap and toyed with his fingers. Why was he stuttering? He’s making himself look like a complete fool.

"This is stupid, we should just go back to what we were doing-" He was about to adjust his body to be in a prone position like earlier, but was stopped by a gentle hand on his shoulder.

If I ain’t with you, I don’t wanna be

"I have feelings for you too," you whispered, a small smile creeping on your face.

Is there someone else or not?

Reblogs and feedback are appreciated :)

[n3ptoonz]

*ೃ༄ Hello there cutie !! ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ May I request a Smutty Kenshi x Stripper Reader? (Fem;Gn) Need an idea? Here ! (PLEADING FOR INCLUDATION OF Wrong usage of sentos handle sorry not sorry) Johnny cage obviously has a hate love relationship with kenshi, and figured.. why not hire a stripper for kenshi? greeatttt idea! Johnny cage is a silly man with silly ideas! why not hire kenshi a stripper for the night? From - ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 💛🦴 ࿐ྂ

this formatting of request is going to plague my mind for at least a week. ask and ye SHALL receive 😽(^_-)-☆ thanks for the extra help, i hope this will be to your liking!

'Beyond Two Souls'

Pairing: Sub!Kenshi Takahashi/F!Stripper!Reader

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 1 (2023)

Warnings: SMUT; EXPLICIT; NASTYYYY inappropriate use of Sento/its handle, kenshi tied to a chair again in a nice house how ironic, technically cuckholdry, cumming untouched, multiple orgasms, rough seggs, FULL NELSON, somebody cleaning this up, sorry if there's any typos/grammar mistakes

Word count: 1.2k

Kenshi wouldn't put much past Johnny, but the very last thing he expected was for his "I'm gonna hire a stripper for you!" statement to make it out the group chat. Even more so that he actually...let you provide him a service he didn't ask for in the first place. The way your hands worked his thighs and the feeling of the lap dance he can only see through the light blue filter of Sento was allowing him to feel a lot less awkward than when you first knocked on his door. He wasn't expecting company so mind his black tank top and gray sweats.

You did a few more routines with the stripper pole you brought in, and you could tell by the way his body twitched ever so gently when your lace panties flashed in front of his face. The same lace panties that are now pulled to the side while this tall light blue spirit fucking up into you holds you firmly in a full nelson.

Kenshi, who is tied to a chair, his mind was running mad. If I told you it was his idea to be cucked by the spirit of his sword, would you believe me? Well, you should. He was getting off more to the squeals and excited moans coming from you due to his indirect actions. He reveled in it. In some way it felt like he could feel through Sento; the very slight phantom feeling of those pretty lips wrapped around his own dick.

Sento got so excited from the feelings Kenshi was having, it surely no issue fucking you out of that cute little lace bra that barely covered anything. You're getting fucked so dumb there's drool falling onto your breasts. What a beautiful sight. Even if it is limited.

Kenshi is a hardworking man who rarely ever puts himself first. He almost never has time to himself. So of course when someone so gorgeous as yourself shows up per his best friend's request since he agrees, he's like fuck it, he needs a break just for a little while. He wants to indulge in the feeling of heightened submission, so what better way to feel that than to watch you have fun with Sento? All the things he would do if he wanted to be dominant in this moment are all going to Sento.

His bodily instincts tell him to pull and tug against his restraints because it wants to be doing you right now, but the sound of you groaning and repeating his name is keeping him at bay. He can feel himself at any moment about to cream his boxers. The look you're giving him paired with a lazy smile into a lip bite...just-

"Shit," he heavily breathed out. He came, as did you--a lot--, leaving a mess of a puddle in front of him. Sento carefully let you down to let you catch your breath and get feeling back into your legs and arms.

When it pulled Kenshi's already cum-stained erection free from his boxers he huffed out a bit from the cool air directly hitting the tip. Sento brought you over to a nearby counter that wasn't far from his view at all, bending you over it so your ass was directly facing him; the sword was in one hand and the other was holding you down as it took the handle and started rubbing you through your prettily soaked panties.

Kenshi was sweating bullets. His dick was lightly throbbing and red from the lack of touch. Just hard as a fucking rock. Your soft pleas and knees buckling were not helping. But this is what he wanted. This is what he needed. He desperately needs to feel you in all capacities but damn it he must not give in. The subtleness of your heels clacking against his wooden floors rang like a soft tune passing by his ears.

Sento paused for a moment just to completely take your underwear off, full exposing you and bringing the cold metal from the handle right back to your folds. You were far more sensitive like this and even came again on contact. You cursed and moaned shakily, taking deep breaths since you basically just came back to back.

You weren't skeptical of this gig whatsoever. Johnny was one of your most trusted clients who ironically only ever asked you for personal services once. Every other time was for someone else just to experience you. You've never really had sex on the job either as it is a rule of yours.

But who's complaining?

This is the peak of your experience. In all your time as a stripper never would you have anticipated a blind swordsman in dire need of him literally cucking himself with his own...spirit...

But who's complaining?!

Sento let go of you so you could stand up--shaky legs and all. It placed the sword against the counter and went back over to Kenshi to untie him finally--and dissipating from existence, its job is done here--; his hands surprisingly didn't lose feeling. He sighed and groaned once he wrapped his warm palm around his shaft.

He just needs one more thing from you.

"Hey, I could pay you extra, just-" he said, but soon to not finish his sentence once he felt your lips against his while at the same time your hand on top of his. Nothing else needed to be said. He stood and hoisted you up into his arms as he walked right on back to that damn counter. No need to worry about the multiple messes you've made, he will happily clean that up later.

He took off his sweat soaked tank once your back laid against the ice cold feeling of the marble beneath you, and when he lined himself up to your entrance you held his face gently.

"Easy, easy," you whispered, and when he easily slid himself inside you, you both let out a long, deep and guttural moan. You latched onto him as he gripped the edge of the counter, letting himself savor the real feeling of your warmth sliding effortlessly against him. He could write a poem about this. From the airy feeling of you and having to live through Sento was all worth it.

Kenshi clung onto the hope of not cumming so fast, but you were so wet he could barely move or else he'd keep slipping out. He would forever have this memory burned into his mind; the cool air pumping throughout his home making his hot sweat all sticky as he thrusted his current stresses away for this point in time. The mixing of your fluids did not go unnoticed with how much louder the squelching became with every thrust.

However all good things had to come to an end. A damn good thing too, but he's not upset at all. He didn't really realize he had this kind of fantasy until tonight. He pulled out just in time, gripping the counter so hard his knuckles turned white. You on the other hand have never came this many times in one night. Truly impressive. Let alone did you think it would be on the job.

He helped you down and kindly offered his shower since a lot just happened in the past hour. Only a fool would decline after taking a good look at the trail of joyful tears. He was still a gentleman who wasn't going to suggest joining you, he had some cleaning to do.

And so he did, with a bright smile on his face.

a/n: OKAYYY i'm pretty much done with old requested fics thank you all so much for your patience, seriously. up next is that li mei fic i promised and it should be out soon hopefully i don't lose all motivation!! thanks for reading, my lovely tooniez <33

[the--blackdahlia]

Good Behavior 18+ (Adrian Toomes x Reader)

Title: Good Behavior

Summary: Adrian gets out of prison on "good behavior"

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, language

You unlocked the door to the townhouse and walked inside, headphones still blaring in your ears from your jog. You were still in the workout gear that Adrian had bought for you before that brat from the boroughs busted him. Adrian had just loved watching you work out, and if he just so happened to get you pants that were a little see-through, so be it.

But Adrian was in prison and you were all alone in this townhouse in the city.

At least, that’s what you thought.

If you had been paying attention, you would’ve noticed that the folded blanket on the ottoman had been disturbed, or that the light was on in the kitchen when you went in to get water. But you did notice the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end when you bent over to grab a bottle from the bottom shelf of the fridge. You stood up quickly and spun around.

“Hey princess,” Adrian smirked at you. You pulled out one of your headphones and stared at him. He had a wicked glint in his eye as he stepped forward. “Something tells me you weren’t expecting me.”

“I hadn’t heard from you in months,” You told him, back pressed up against the fridge. “Last I heard, that fuckin’ bastard Stark was pushing for twenty years minimum.”

“Well, they changed their mind.”

“Adrian, what did you do?”

“Let’s just say good behavior and end that conversation there,” He took another step towards you, and you noticed the tan pants he was wearing were not regular pants, but part of an inmate's uniform. But he also had his favorite jacket, the one with the fur when he was flying. “I missed you mi amor.”

“I…I missed you too. But Adrian, it’s not safe for you here. The cops…”

“Fuck the police,” He slammed one hand against the fridge near your head, making you gasp a bit. “Been in prison too long. And I need to remind you that you’re my queen of the skies and no one else's.”

“There’s been no one else.”

“I know. I mean, just because I was locked up didn’t mean I didn’t have an eye on you,” He used his other hand to hook your chin and tilt your head up to look into his deep blue eyes. “I know that those disgusting vigilantes were harassing you enough you had to leave our home. I know that you had to give up your job because of the dumb fuckers that you worked with. I know everything la mia bellezza. And now, Daddy’s home.” With that, he roughly planted his lips onto yours, forcing his tongue between your lips to swallow down any noises, be that of protest or pleasure.

While he had been locked up, one way he kept himself entertained was to work out. You felt that as a strength you never knew he had let him pick you up and set you on the counter. You kicked off your shoes, watching Adrian smirk as they landed on the tile floor with a satisfying thud.

“I need you out of these fucking clothes,” He curled his fingers in the waistband of your joggers and pulled. You helped him get them down your legs, watching as he practically ripped them off and chucked them somewhere in the corner. Your shirt basically got the same treatment, leaving you in just your underwear. “Been too long baby mine.”

“Daddy,” You practically purred, getting a groan from him as he stripped out of the clothes he was wearing. The jacket hit the ground, followed by the uniform. His toned body was all you could see, and it was obvious by the very much wet spot on the panties you were still wearing.

Rip!

Well, you had been wearing. Adrian threw the tattered fabric off to the side and reached to give your sports bra the same treatment, but you beat him to it, not wanting to lose one of the few pieces that fit you.

“Mine,” Adrian growled, pulling you down the counter until your ass hung off, leaving you relying on him to hold you up. Any fear of falling was quickly replaced as he pushed into you and started to move like a man in need. It had been a while since you two had been together, and the feeling of him stretching your soaked pussy just kept driving that home.

“Yours. Only yours,” You breathed. He wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to bottom out in you. He wrapped his arms under your shoulders to get leverage. Nothing had felt this good since he had gone away. Nothing you did could get you off this quick, not even thinking about him as you touched yourself helped. But this, this was what you both had needed. It didn’t take you long to tighten around him, urging him to stay in as you came around him.

“Fucking hell baby girl, gonna get me addicted all over again,” He panted, only making it a few more thrusts himself before he came inside you.

“Shit, this is why they wouldn’t let us do conjugal visits,” You laughed as he pulled out and helped you down off the counter.

“They knew I’d request one every day,” He kissed you, gently this time. “Come on, let’s shower and pack a bag. We’re going on the run.”

“The run? But Adrian…”

“Those fucking Avengers are going to start looking for me. And they’re going to come here. And if one of them so much as looks at you wrong, then I can’t be responsible for what I might do,” He grabbed your hand and led you upstairs.

Where more than a shower happened.

[hansols-yoda-boxers]

SKZ Kinks - Vocalracha

Contents: fem!reader, reader wearing dresses and skirts, reader being referred to as cute, pretty, girly, and feminine, mention of corruption kink, video taping, degradation, use of slut, and whore, dumbification, mention of begging, brattiness and brat taming, edging, orgasm denial

Seungmin

Wearing cute outfits (especially dresses) - Listen I know it’s Minho corruption kink this and Minho corruption kink that but the way this man would love to see you in something pretty and cute and girly. There’s something about you dressing in a softly feminine way that just turns him on so much. If you’re wearing pretty skirts or dresses around him don’t even expect to make it out of the door. He’ll have you pinned against the kitchen counter so fast, murmuring to you about how he couldn’t possibly let you just walk out the door looking that fucking cute while getting his hand up under your skirt.

Making videos - It will take him forever to bring this up. He knows it’s a big thing to ask you so he’ll wait until a lot of trust is built up before broaching the subject. The moment he gets a yes though he is over the moon. The first time he’ll just use his phone, filming you as he fucks you from behind and inadvertently catching a lot of his own little groans and moans on the recording. And watching it back the whole thing has you both so turned on you just need to do it again. He’ll try setting up his camera to capture both of you and afterwards he’ll make sure you both have copies of the videos. He loves watching them and reliving every little moment, thinking of how you felt the whole time. It quickly becomes his favourite thing to watch to get off.

Degradation - He loves you so fucking much and he expresses that by calling you his pretty little slut. He just can’t help himself, not when you’re on your knees, licking the cum off your lips and looking utterly fucked out just from sucking him off, or when you’re whimpering and squirming under him as he takes his sweet time teasing you and inching you closer to your release. God, you look is fucking pretty under him and the way you get even more desperate and needy when he starts calling you a little slut or a pretty whore, when he tells you just how desperate he knows you are, how he knows how badly he just want him to fuck you already. When you get like that how could he not tell you?

Jeongin

Dumbification - He didn’t even know he liked this until you. But the first time he properly fucks you he sees it, the way your eyes go all glassy and your gaze is all doe-eyed. The way your answers to him come slower and you repeat things in a dreamy haze. The way your blinks come slower and when he asks you a question you scrunch your nose up, and it’s like he can see the gears slowly turning while you struggle to answer him. The way you end up only being able to moan his name because everything but the pleasure has been wiped from your mind. He’s hooked. He’s so fucking hooked. He loves eating you out until you’re squirming and pulling on his hair but not managing to make a sentence. He adores fucking you with every ounce of his energy and watching you utterly fall apart on his cock. But fingering you, nice and slow, and watching you slowly unravel, might just be his favourite.

Brat taming - He likes a little bit of a challenge. Of course if you wanna be good for him some days he’s not gonna say no. It is nice when you get on your knees for him, lips falling open from just one look. But there is a special joy when he tells you to do something and you say “make me” with a little smirk on your lips. It’s such a fun game to him and he knows you too well. You both know that he knows just how to break you, how to get you crying and dumb for him. But it’s not about that, it’s about the journey, about him breaking you in the best, most pleasurable way possible. Orgasm control - There is just something so fun for him about being in total control of your pleasure. He has so much patience with you because he loves the way it affects you when it takes him forever to get you right to the edge, only to pull away before you can actually cum. He loves when it makes you whine or squirm, he can read it on your face how bad you want it even if you won’t say it just for the sake of your own pride. He’ll edge you over and over, as slowly as he can, no matter how hard and needy he is, because watching how it affects you is so worth it. He wants you to fall apart before he even gets his cock in you, he wants you begging for it in fact. If you’re extra bratty he has no problem telling you he’ll gladly deny you any orgasm at all. If that’s not enough to make you behave and you still want to push him even more he’ll take great joy in jerking himself off, cumming all over your pretty pussy and leaving you needy and moaning after watching him, finally caving in and begging him to let you cum.