#my house is dirty the dishes are dirty my life is dirty and A FUCKING EGGSHELL IS COMIFN FOR ME

[dark-elf-writes]

I was already at the very end of rope and about three seconds away from frustration crying because I am so overwhelmed by being alive and I decided to make myself a silly little egg sandwich.

I CUT MY THUMB ON A FUCKING EGG SHELL

[sutorus]

BAD IDEA RIGHT? BEST FRIEND'S DAD!TOJI for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: you and megumi are old friends, but a recent development (called growing up) has made you aware of just how hot his dad, toji fushiguro, really is. you sit on your desire for years until one night, you get an idea. 

PAIRING: best friend’s dad!fushiguro toji x reader

WC: 5.1k whoops!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORDS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, age gap! power dynamics, slight daddy kink, degradation, spit (like a lot it's a Thing here), oral (m! receiving), unprotected relations, slapping, gaping, size difference/size kink, creampie, toji is Nasty and a pretty bad dude lol 

A/N: this is nasty and very descriptive i’m so sorry i really sinned here. anyway enjoy!

you and megumi have been friends since school. after all, it was inevitable that a friendship would form between the only two kids whose parents consistently forgot to pick them up after class. 

nods of acknowledgment quickly developed into trading pokémon cards, sharing samanco waffles, cheating off each other during tests. 

it was the most meaningful relationship you had in your life, the one other person who really got you and the situation you were in, and before you knew it, you two were being admitted to the same college, like you’d talked about all those years ago. 

in the meantime, megumi’s dad had… mellowed out. from what you knew. 

sure, he was still gone for weeks at a time, neglectful, irresponsible and womanizing, but one final falling out with their family seemed to have lifted a big weight off his shoulders, and he became more present in megumi’s life, less resentful. you knew he wasn’t a good guy, but you also knew he was trying, in his own way. 

besides that, you also couldn’t help noticing other things about the man. you first started paying attention when you were in high school, always hanging out at megumi’s place to play video games or study. 

toji would come home sometimes, smelling of smoke and sake, tonguing the scar on the side of his lip. plopping down on their shaggy sofa, legs spread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his pants. you would give megumi some excuse about getting something from the kitchen and just watch toji, lazily browsing channels with one hand inside his sweats. 

it wasn’t a big deal. but it never quite went away, your infatuation growing with your desperation the more the man hung around. you did everything you could to get his attention. 

you wore the frilliest, shortest skirts, left dirty dishes on the sink, showed up too late at night drunk and stumbling “looking for megumi”, acting out so you could try to get some reaction out of toji. but he never seemed to give you a second thought, annoyance being the closest thing to an emotion on his face every time your eyes met. 

but you were no quitter. you knew one day you would get what you deserved. maybe not today, but… eventually.

you approach the fushiguro household’s front door, fishing out the extra key megumi had given you from your backpack pocket. you two had a study session today but he’d texted you telling you he’d be late and to just let yourself in, so that’s what you do. 

with a sigh, you set down your laptop on their coffee table and sit down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. before you can finish getting comfortable, a tall, broad figure is looming over your face and you almost jump out of your skin. 

“what the f—oh my god,” you laugh in embarrassment. “you scared me, fushiguro-san.”

he doesn’t react, his eyes boring into yours. “me? you’re the one breaking into my house.”

you roll your eyes, pulling your legs up below your body. “megumi gave me a key. we’re supposed to study today, do you know where—“

“he’s with that itadori kid. don’t think he’s coming back tonight,” toji moves to sit down on the loveseat, turning the tv on. the old, boxy thing crackles to life, a boat race playing on the screen. toji adjusts his body in attention. “so you can fuck off back home.”

“um,” you start, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. you let your eyes wander all over his lax form, and you can faintly make out his abs below the raggedy shirt he’s wearing. it makes your stomach turn. 

without taking his eyes off the screen, he addresses you again. “you know where the door is.”

an idea starts to form in your head. a really, really bad, tempting idea.

you discreetly take off your sweatshirt, leaving you in just your undershirt, no bra. you hope toji can scent the whiff of perfume you exude when you move, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa. 

“nah, i think i’ll just study here. my parents are home today and they’re too… y’know.”

“not my fuckin’ problem,” he picks at his teeth, spreading his legs wider. your desperation is growing with each second he spends not looking at you. 

you lift up your bag, something clinking inside. it's a bold move, but it's now or never.

“i brought booze. we could just share some and then i’ll go.”

that at least gets a reaction. the man snorts, finally glancing over at you from the corner of his eyes. you instinctively push your chest out, feeling eager. 

“is that what you do with my son under my roof? get shitfaced in the house that i pay for?”

“well i paid for the vodka so i don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you make a point to pull out the bottle from your bag, swinging it around. 

toji’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. you know he doesn’t like to be challenged, absolutely hates smart mouths. you should be in for a treat. 

“who the hell do you think you’re talking to, kid?” he stands up and snatches the bottle from you, turning it around in his — big, veiny, deliciously calloused — hand and laughing. “vanilla flavored? fuck, you really are a kid.” he says it like the realization excites him. 

you can feel your face flush.

“are you gonna turn down free alcohol, toji?” it’s risky, dropping the honorific. you know he doesn’t like it, can see it in his face, but he doesn’t say anything. 

instead, he unscrews the top with ease and takes a swig, grimacing at the taste. you watch as his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing.

his arms are huge, you can’t imagine he was ever shaped like megumi is nowadays, slender and frail. toji is tall and broad and big, with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his defined features. 

he grabs two whiskey glasses and sets them down on the coffee table — no coasters —, pouring some vodka in both of them. it was most definitely not your idea to do straight shots tonight with megumi, but you will not go through the humiliation of asking for a soda to mix it with. 

you’re desperate to have toji view you as the adult you are, no longer megumi’s awkward middle school best friend. you know you’ve grown up well; all you need is for toji to see it too. 

you drink in silence for a bit, the only noises coming from toji being his disappointed grunts as the boats he bet on fall behind. you type away at your laptop, not really being able to focus with the heat rising within you. 

he refills both your cups a couple more times, but makes no effort to talk.

you slowly but surely start to get antsy, your determination wavering and giving way to a funny feeling one can only experience by drinking with their best friend’s dad who they’ve wanted to fuck for like, ever. 

so you bite the bullet and with the liquid courage flowing in your veins, you strike up conversation. 

“y’know, toji, i’ve always wanted to ask,” his head lolls on his shoulder to look at you lazily and disinterested. “what happened to megumi’s mom? he doesn’t talk about it.”

“yeah, well. me either,” toji replies. you take a deep breath. 

“you’re gone a lot. megumi is alone a lot.”

toji scoffs.

“thought that was what you were here for, hmm? megumi’s done well for himself,” he finally, probably for the first time in your life, gives you a proper look over, his eyes traveling all over your frame, tucked into the armrest of the couch. “scored himself a nice little bitch.”

you let out a strangled noise. you’re fighting laughter when you exclaim, “i’m sorry?! you think megumi and i have a—like, a thing?”

toji just shrugs, stretching one leg out in front of him. “i figured. why else would you loiter around my house so much?”

oh, if he only knew. 

“no, no. it’s never been like that. megumi’s not really my type.” toji hums inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue. “i’m into more… mature guys.”

toji eyes you knowingly, but seemingly amused. 

“that right?” you nod. “fuckin’ kid like you even know what to do with a man?”

you raise an eyebrow. you’re a sophomore in college, well into your twenties. he can’t be serious. “surely you know i’m not a kid anymore. surely you d—“

“surely my ass,” he exclaims and oh, he’s a little terrifying like this. toji downs however much was left in his cup and turns to you, pointing with the hand holding his glass. “you’re a full of shit, foul mouthed, rude brat. get the fuck out of my house, you’re pissing me off.”

you’re used to toji’s outbursts, not because you know him well but because every time you see him, seldom as it is, he always loses his temper, sooner or later. 

“i think,” you take another sip, feeling loose. “your old ass wouldn’t be able to handle sex. like, actual sex, not those rich hags you who just lay there for you and give you money in the end. if you had to put in any real work i bet your heart would give out you slimey pi—“

you can’t finish your sentence because you can’t breathe, suddenly. your eyes widen, chest spasming as your oxygen gets cut off mid-sentence. toji has one of his huge palms covering your nose and mouth.

you look up at him with watery eyes but he’s not looking back, he’s chugging vodka straight from the bottle again.

he puffs his cheeks and moves his hand to cup your jaw, smirking around a mouthful of alcohol. 

you catch your breath quickly, the hand that was clawing at his falling limply on your lap. toji holds your face, his grip unforgiving as he leans over you. his form is so, so much bigger than yours, towering over you completely, and all you can do is look up at him with a blank expression. 

his thumb pries your mouth open with ease, the digit hooking behind your bottom teeth as toji’s face gets closer and closer. on instinct, you close your eyes. 

soon, hot, stinging liquid is pouring steadily into your mouth. toji swishes the rest of the vodka between his cheeks — on purpose, you’re sure — before spitting it directly on your tongue.

it’s disgusting, everything about it makes your stomach churn, but it also makes you squeeze your legs together, chest rising and falling rapidly as you swallow without having to be told to. 

“ya talk too fuckin’ much, brat,” he grumbles. ironically, you’re at a loss for words. “someone needs put you in your place already.”

“you,” your voice cracks and nearly fails you, but you’re determined. it surprises him, that you’d have something to say. that you’re still game. you can see it in his face, in the way his hands come off of you. “i want you to.”

toji’s expression is hard and unchanging. his fingers go back to your face, two of them slipping inside your lax lips.

your breath stutters as you inhale, instinctively sucking the digits and working your tongue around them.

toji grabs his cock through his pants pointedly.

“fuckin’ slut… that what you want?” you nod. he takes a step forward, knees hitting the couch. “is that why you walk around my house looking like a fucking whore?”

a whine dies in your throat at the sweet, sweet recognition.

he noticed.

he noticed and it bothered him and you really couldn’t bring yourself to care that he was your best friend’s father right now because he was tenting his sweatpants and your mouth was watering at the sight. 

“please…” you paw at his waistband, pulling on the drawstrings. toji laughs at your desperation, voice growing gruff. 

he buries a hand in your hair, fingers closing around your locks tightly and making your eyes sting with tears. slowly, he pushes your face into his crotch, so close that you can feel it pulsing, can feel every ridge, can feel that he’s not wearing any underwear.

god, you can smell him, and it makes your head spin, your mouth huffing out hot breaths and wetting the front of his pants. 

you hook your fingers in the back of his sweats and pull until they’re down tight around his thighs. you have to maneuver the fabric over the head of his erection, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.

his dick springs up, slapping you in the face and leaving a smear of pre across the bridge of your nose. you think toji snorts at that but you can’t be sure. you’re too mesmerized.

he’s so, so big, the skin darker and flushed, tight, heavy balls and the head, angry red, peeking out from the foreskin.

your throat goes dry at the thought of it inside of you, inside any of your holes, because you know it’ll destroy you forever. and you want it. 

toji doesn’t have the appeal that most men his age do to most girls your age. he doesn’t make you feel safe, he doesn’t offer financial support, he doesn’t care about your well-being, he doesn’t have his shit together. and to make matters worse to you, he’s your best friend’s dad, who your best friend doesn’t even like that much, whose presence has been totally indifferent to megumi for most of his life. 

it makes you burn in shame to know you’re about to have a man 25 years your senior in your mouth.

you readjust your position on the couch so that you’re sitting on your knees, angling your face with his cock. it’s curved, pointing up, and you wonder how much of it he’s gonna wanna stuff down your throat. judging by the pure evil glinting in his eyes, it’s gonna be as much as possible. 

you take a deep breath, steadying a hand around his length. it’s concerning that you can just barely close your fingers around him, but you put that thought aside to focus on pulling the skin down gently so you can wrap your lips around the tip. 

toji sighs in relief, his grip in your hair tightening.

you begin to work your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock to gather up saliva. 

“thaaat’s it, what a good little bitch. got a sweet little mouth on ya,” he whispers, hips thrusting slightly to work his cock further into your mouth. “yer gonna take all of it? or are ya all talk?”

you whine, gripping the base and sliding further down his length. he’s already hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your stomach seize. you pick up the pace, twisting your wrist rhythmically as you suck him. 

“don’t swallow,” he threatens, forcing his cock deeper into you, the head sliding into the opening of your throat. “lemme see how messy this slutty face can get.”

you choke audibly, eyes smarting with tears, makeup smudging. you look up at him with furrowed brows in a silent plea of mercy. 

toji’s having none of it.

he puts one foot down on the sofa, next to your legs, giving himself the leverage to start fully fucking your face now. he wraps both hands around your throat and thrusts his hips violently into your mouth, his thumbs pressing down to feel his length in your throat. 

“ahh, fuck,” he throws his head back, reveling in your desperate gurgles. you feel like a fucking ragdoll, like a fleshlight, unable to control the noises you make or how much dick you take. “takin’ me so well. who taught you to squeeze your throat like that, huh? so fuckin’ slutty.” 

you sob around his cock, nose buried in his pubes. he’s impossibly hard, impossibly wet as thick strings of spit and pre hang from your lips, dripping down to his balls, falling to the floor.

toji keeps fucking your throat relentlessly, granting you mere seconds between thrusts to inhale a desperate breath that immediately starts to burn in your lungs. 

he’s a fucking sight though, above you. chin tucked into his chest, veins bulging and biceps flexed, nostrils flared as he watches you devour him. 

he pulls out suddenly, leaving you choking for air. tears stream down your face, spit bubbling out of your nostril. you look all wrong, like you’d been put back together by someone after being utterly demolished.

“open your mouth,” toji orders. you obey and he grabs his cock, slapping the head against your tongue a few times. he slides his length in and out for a bit before he starts jerking himself off. “suck my balls.” 

you take that moment to swallow down the saliva that had pooled between your teeth, tucking away the wet strands of hair that frame your face.

toji’s lifting his cock towards his belly, fisting the head and flicking his wrist. he looks at you expectantly, and you understand it’s time to prove yourself once again. 

you place a gente thumb right below his shaft, where his sack hangs. your tongue dips in between his balls, shyly at first, just slightly tracing the shape of them before you pop one into your mouth. 

toji groans, the hand on his cock gaining speed. you squeeze your thighs together; you’re so wet that it makes you uncomfortable. you lean forward on your knees, steadying yourself with your palms planted firmly on his thighs. 

you’re sucking his balls earnestly now , one then the other, then both at the same time, angling your head up and working your tongue up and down the wrinkled skin.

toji’s loving it, maybe more than the blowjob, and it makes you feel like a toy all over again, in an even more humiliating way because now you’re not even allowed to touch his cock, he’s just getting to use your mouth anywhere he wants. 

it’s so fucking hot that it makes you dizzy. you hollow your cheeks, giving his nutsack a good suck before gingerly lifting his balls. you sneak a glance up at toji, hoping to catch him by surprise when your tongue dips even lower, approaching some pretty controversial territory. 

it works. his breath catches in his throat and his knee kicks out instinctively.

he grabs your hair immediately, pulling you away from him. 

“fuck,” you look up at him smirking, lips smeared with saliva and snort. but you don’t even care how debauched you look right now, as long as you can keep the upper hand. “you’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t ya?”

he leans down to kiss you deeply, messily, inhaling loudly through his nose. toji finishes stepping out of his sweatpants and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing what you’d been imagining for so many years. 

you run your hands over his chest, his abs, down his hips, his v-line. he’s so fucking hot, got bulging muscles you didn’t even know existed in the human body, and scars you can’t even fathom the origin of. 

he stares at you, looking bored. “get up.”

you do, legs shaking and prickling with pins and needles. now you can fully feel the scope of your arousal, how your panties stick to your core uncomfortably, how the wet tops of your thighs rub together. 

toji sits down on the sofa and you waste no time getting on his lap, clawing at his chest and leaning in for another kiss. he’s unforgiving even like this, so much bigger than you, his hand on the back of your neck and his mouth on yours. 

“arms up,” and when you comply, he’s pulling your tank top off. “good girl.”

you shiver, instinctively wrapping an arm around yourself. toji tsks at that, easily taking both your wrists in one hand and pinning them behind your back. he grabs your tit with the other, popping as much of it as he can in his mouth. 

you groan, fighting against his grip to get your hands on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere. toji relentlessly sucks on your nipple, nibbling and circling it with his tongue.

when he pulls off, he lands a swift slap across your boob, ripping a groan from you. 

“such a good fuckin’ slut, look at that body.”

he slaps your ass, this time, tugging your shorts over your butt. you help him get it off of you and then, finally, you’re straddling toji’s cock, no layers in between you two, just your dripping core on him. 

you think, belatedly, condom, but then toji is pulling you in for another kiss and for all you know megumi could come home any minute and you wouldn’t want to waste time like that. or so you tell yourself. 

his hands guide your hips to grind over him, soft mewls coming out of you and being buried into the crook of his neck. 

“pretty little girl, gonna ride me? hmm? gonna ride this old man’s cock?” you whine, nodding.

you press your front against his so you can lift your ass up and guide the tip into your entrance. you don’t expect to be able to take it all, but at least like this you can control the pace and how much of it is going into you, the only thing keeping you from panicking at the sheer size of him. 

the head of toji’s cock doesn’t slip inside so much as it pops inside, the ridge locking just past your opening.

it’s too big, and even though you’re soaking wet, it’s still a stretch. you both groan in unison and you realize, this is it. this is your fantasy, you’re fucking toji fushiguro, megumi’s dad, your best friend’s dad. 

your legs tremble as you hold yourself up, too soon to sink down more on his cock. toji’s playing with your nipples but you have a sneaking suspicion his patience isn’t going to last much longer. 

you give it a valiant effort to take more in and it feels like being ripped in two. you clench your jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. 

“fuuuuck, so fuckin’ tight,” toji spreads your ass cheeks with both hands, rubbing the thin skin where you two are connected. he thrusts up, feeding your poor pussy more of his cock, and you let out a scream. “take it, c’mon.”

“unghh—can’t, toji, hang on—“

“‘course ya can,” he fucks up into you again and you sob, nails raking down his chest. he hisses and slaps your ass in punishment. you realize you might really cry.

“i can’t, it’s too big, too much—“

“shhh,” in an uncharacteristic display of affection, toji kisses the furrow between your brows, snaking a thumb between you two to rub your clit. 

you throw your head back, body torn between seeking more pleasure and running from the pain. you can hear how wet you are as toji fucks in and out of you, your plush walls hugging him so well, weeping around him. 

he speeds up and you bury your face in his chest, moaning wantonly into his skin. toji lets out staccato grunts, working his cock further into you with each thrust. 

“any scrubs your age givin’ it to you like this?” he breathes out, grabbing your ass hard and moving it up and down his length for you. you whine, drooling on him. “yeah, that’s right. fuck, take it, that’s a good girl.”

“ahh, toji—“

“that’s not my name, whore,” he fists your hair and drags your head back until your eyes meet. “try again.”

“fushiguro-san—“ that earns you a hard slap on your ass. you yelp — wrong answer. 

“toji-sama—“ another slap, and this time he grips the reddening flesh viciously. you whine, squirming in his grip. 

“little braindead cumslut,” he wipes a tear with his thumb. “who’s fucking this tight pussy right now? huh? tell me who's ruining this slutty cunt.”

“d—daddy?” 

toji smiles, humming, his grip on you softening as he leans in for a kiss. “that’s right, sweetheart. show daddy how much you want it.”

it’s amusing to toji, you know it. he just wants to humiliate you because he’s aware of how badly you’ve wanted this. but it does something to you, it’s serious to you, it’s so fucking depraved and sexy to you. 

he lifts you up with ease and lays you back down on the couch. you feel so empty suddenly that it makes you want to cry, like toji has already carved a home inside of you for his cock that no one else will ever be able to fill. 

he wastes no time getting on top of you, hooking a hand under your leg and lifting it up onto his shoulder. your eyes widen immediately, a protest dying in your tongue. this position… his cock… it’s, god, it’s gonna be—

toji plunges in in one violent, perfunctory thrust. you let out a scream, your heel kicking toji square in the back as your body rises up from the couch. he’s all the way inside now. 

you can feel him bruising your cervix, his balls, wet with a mixture of the two of you, slapping against your ass, his hip bones drilling into you. 

“you’re so deep,” you look at him with panic in your eyes, chest gone cold at the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re so deep.”

toji laughs, pulling out to spit on his cock. he grabs your ankle and sets it on his shoulder. “yeah, baby, daddy’s all the way inside now. feels good, doesn’t it?” 

“fuck. oh fuck,” you let out shaky breaths, allowing toji to lay more of his weight on top of you. your knee is by your head now and somehow in this position his cock seems to hit even deeper, to curve up exactly in the right spots that have you struggling to breathe. “you’re gonna break me.” 

“takin’ me so well. just a natural slut aren’t ya,” he’s fucking you so fast now, wet, slapping sounds resounding across the whole house. 

there’s a thick creamy ring at the base of his cock, frothy and bubbly with how much you’ve been gushing for him. toji presses a thumb against your clit and rubs tight little circles, making you squeeze against him like a vice. 

he grunts, speeding up his movements.

“so sensitive, this cute little pussy. you a virgin?” he slaps it a few times, your wetness sticking to his fingers with every pat. “gonna cum soon, whore?”

you whine, nodding. you wrap both arms around toji’s neck and pull him closer, open mouth awaiting expectantly.

toji grins, spitting onto your tongue before leaning in to suck it. 

“toj—daddy,” you moan against his mouth, “daddy, i’m close.”

you don’t recognize your own voice. it’s slutty, desperate, pitchy, juvenile. it's too far gone.

toji works your clit over and over again, fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked. he splays a hand over your stomach, kneading the place where his cock is nestled inside of you and hitting a spot that makes you lose control of your body and words. 

“ah, ah, ah, oh god toji fuck daddy make me cum, please please can i cum—“

“oh, fuck,” his thrusts start to become erratic and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, one leg wrapping around his hips to make sure he stays inside until you're done. “cum on daddy’s cock, come on. make a mess, little girl.”

you throw your head back, burying it into the pillows as your entire body thrashes with your orgasm. you clamp around him so hard that you can't even tell where he ends and you begin. 

toji takes no mercy on you, his messy cock plunging in and out of you fast. 

“gonna fill up this pretty pussy, yeah?” you shake your head desperately, one hand punching his chest. he can’t finish inside of you, right? but why do you want it so bad? “no no no, don’t fuss now baby. you want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you? wanna give megumi a baby brother? fuck yeah i know you do fuckin' take it whore fuuuuck, fuck i'm coming—”

he thrusts once, twice, three more times, knocking all air out of your lungs and the most ridiculous moans out of your mouth before he’s spilling into you, locking your legs like a fucking pretzel and biting down your neck. 

you can feel it pulsing, spurting inside of you. you can feel both your heartbeats in your abused cunt, both of your juices combined and oozing out of you. 

once you catch your breath, toji pulls out of you languidly, with a yawn. you two made a fucking mess, a sticky puddle on the couch right below your ass. 

toji eyes it disinterestedly, much like how he’s eyeing you right now. your sweaty, messy, fucked out self, nearly melting on the fushiguro household’s sofa. 

“ah. are ya on the pill or what?” he asks, like he just now remembered. after a few seconds you nod, a little incredulous. “heh. good.”

you slowly sit up, reaching for your sweatshirt to at least cover yourself up. you sneak a hand down to your cunt, fingers sliding through the mess there to dip inside you. 

fuck, you’re gaping. toji well and truly ruined your pussy. it makes you panic a little bit, but it also makes pride swell within your chest, knowing you took it, all of it. 

toji finally addresses you. 

“i’m gonna go take a shower,” he looks behind his shoulder, sighing. he points at you. “we left the fuckin’ tv on. if this shit racks up my bills you’re gonna have to pay me back.”

you guffaw. “me? pay you how?”

he smirks. 

“got one more hole i haven’t wrecked yet, dont’cha?” he flicks your forehead. you just sit there, incredulous, trembling legs, halfway to horny again. from the bathroom, toji calls out, “let yourself out. oh, and leave the vodka.”

A/N: lmfao! i got nothin to say in my defense. reblogs r very much appreciated

[martian-astro10]

D9/ Navamsa chart observations - Part 4

Sun in 3rd shows that your spouse will either have a business of their own or even if they work for someone else, they'll be in a managerial position. As a result of this, your spouse will be focused more on their career than the marriage, and it could make you feel a bit lonely. (Jupiter in fire and water signs can balance this out)

Moon in 7th is a really good placement, i have seen this in the charts of female celebrities who have a handsome husband. so if we're going just by looks, then it's good. Your partner can be emotional and sensitive but they can also be moody, this placement is better if you have more earth signs in your chart. (i know a woman with this, and her husband is like okay but he can also be quite whiny sometimes, and also he acts like his hands are gonna fall down if he puts them inside the dirty dishes water, so, i just find him very annoying, so just make sure that there are planets in earth signs)

Mercury in 1st... I love it. A lot of "happily" married couples have it. This is a placement that makes you address the issues in your marriage. If you guys feel like there's something wrong, you're gonna approach your partner and talk to them about it. (i think that even if the conversation ultimately leads to divorce it's still better than just staying in a dull and loveless marriage, and if the problem gets solved, then great). I really have a soft spot for this one because a lot of strong women in my life have this and i just love the fact that they were brave enough to go against the society's rules, so if you have this placement, you're very very lucky and you'll have a good marriage, you know what you want and that's great. (this can also cause late marriage)

Venus in 1st, this one is not for your partner but for yourself, the number of celebrities that have this is just....shocking. If you want to work in the entertainment industry and you have this, go ahead, seriously, just give auditions, put videos on youtube, make reels, do it, you WILL be famous. (talking about the people that i know personally that have this placement, they're really creative as well, one of my sister's friend has sun conjunct Venus in 1st house and she's such a charismatic speaker and like really persuasive, this is helpful to her in regards to career, so even if you want to work in some other field, this placement makes you the best in that)

Mars in 4th.. I love this one as well. This makes your partner really protective of you and your kids (if you wish to have them). I used to think that this would make your spouse more protective of their parents (especially mother) rather than their partner, but I've been proven wrong, many many times. I have seen it play out right in front of my eyes, a lot of times, so I'll give examples. (if you're a woman, and your husbands family is talking shit about you, he won't like it at all and in some cases, may even move out of the house cuz they can't stand seeing you being humiliated. Another example, if you're being harassed then.. They're gonna get physical, and not because, someone touched THEIR wife, but because someone touched YOU, there's a huge difference. And if you're a man, you are LUCKY, your wife's gonna be like 5'1, but if someone's hurting you, she's gonna stand in front of you and be like "stop hurting my man, get the fuck away from him" and having that kind of support in your life is really rare)

Jupiter in 5th... DUDE, every person i know that has this have more than 2 kids, if its well placed then you're gonna be great parents and your children are gonna love you. Your partner is gonna love kids and that's why... More kids. If you're a woman, then please make sure that you marry someone who loves you just as much, because this is one of those placements that can cause "good parent but bad partner" thing. (I've also seen this placement in a lot of men's charts, who only marry a woman because they think she would make a good mother, which is not good, so be a little cautious of men with this)

Saturn in 10th, now if you're a woman and you have this, then please please marry a man who's okay with having a wife who's more career oriented (every woman should marry a man like that) but sometimes you'll see that a woman is forced to become a SAH wife and she's unhappy but she does it (even though she shouldn't) but women with this, they won't, they'll just get divorced instead, they DO NOT like staying at home (valid), a partner who encourages you to pursue your dreams will be the best. (i know a couple where the wife has this, he's a house husband but a good one, he actually does all the household chores and doesn't just laze around while his wife works, and they also love each other, and i love them 🥹)

Venus in 9th, i read on a lot of websites and books that these people should marry after 30 and i agree. An early marriage with this will lead to separation or an unhappy marriage. (i also noticed this to be true, but i couldn't find out WHY, like the reason). This is also an indicator of marrying someone from a different culture or background. Even more so if Venus is in movable signs.

Saturn in 5th, (bro my memory is so bad, i feel like I've already written about this but i can't fucking remember 😭😭), okay so this placement also delays childbirth, or you may end up having just one kid (which is not wrong), you may also have a kid after 30, Ranbir kapoor, priyanka chopra and deepika padukone have this. Even if you have ketu in 8th, this will happen because saturn has a stronger effect.

Mars in 2nd, this placement is like a double edged sword, your partner is gonna be a spendthrift but they manage to earn back that money just as fast, but here's the thing, it's like, you have to pay your rent on the 1st of a month, your partner uses that rent money to buy something for themselves, now you're stressed AS FUCK and on the 31st, out of nowhere, they're gonna give that same amount to you. I've seen this happen a lot. So you're just gonna be constantly stressed out. (this works well for people who themselves are spendthrifts, cuz none of you give a shit, so whatever)

© martian-astro All rights reserved, 2024

[aimedis]

sam & darlin headcanons 🤠🐺

"my big bad wolf..."

darlin and sam were the only people who’ve seen the other cry (aside from gabe for darlin’) for the longest time 

sam calls darlin’ sexy on a regular basis. darlin calls him handsome

sam has a hard time containing himself in the sense of not blurting every inappropriate thought that goes through his head about darlin’ in front of other people (so does darlin’) 

sam is the only person in the world darlin allows to drink their drinks and share food with

darlin literally never accepts people’s help and/or doting on them, they get physically and verbally aggressive when people even offer so imagine the pack’s surprise when they walk into a pack meeting with sam fussing over their every move and they let him 

darlin's favourite hobby is jumping into sam's arms and he catches them with utmost care every single time

darlin is borderline obsessed with sam (david says every other word they say is sam)

they are always always touching

sam loves darlin being in his lap

their song is flaws & sins by juice wlrd

they argue pretty often but in a "couples who argue often have a really strong relationship" and they make up very quickly (half the time they forget what they're talking about and just move on)

sometimes they try to pretend to be mad at the other but it never works because they always end up laughing

darlin has a few piercings and sam's favourite is the piecing on the left of their bottom lip. he thinks it’s really hot

every single time sam sees darlin in even semi-formal clothes, he loses his ability to do anything but stare at them

they go on walks on the beach at night

darlin has been so used to pretending to be strong around others for most of their life and finding someone they're so comfortable with all the time makes them cry around sam very easily

darlin sleeps on top of sam most of the time because sam likes rubbing their back. sometimes they sleep shift and sam just has a large wolf on his chest

darlin gets noticeably more irritable the longer they’re away from sam (and no one would say it to his face but sam does too)

darlin owns a motorcycle (along with their car) and sam nearly has a heart attack every time they drive it

darlin has tried to get him to ride with them but they remain unsuccessful

sam and darlin pretend they're not together for fun

"ooohh, do you wanna date me or something sammy?" "oh no, darlin, neverr"

darlin loves wrapping their arms around sam’s neck

darlin and sam slow dance around the house all the time (in the kitchen when sam’s cooking, in their bedroom right before they go to sleep, after they wake up, in the hallways etc.)

darlin coloured their hair green (it's sam's favourite colour)

sam subconsciously doodles darlin when he's bored (he has a dedicated sketchbook for them)

darlin is the only who calls sam "samuel" as an endearment

sam throws darlin over his shoulder multiple times a day

sam loves cupping darlin's cheeks and just looking at their face. darlin has grown used to sam doing this but it still flusters them a little, they let him do it though

whenever sam says anything remotely nice about darlin, they get so fucking flustered and shy (they straight up just hide their face away from him or look away)

sometimes sam shamelessly and blatantly flirts back at darlin and darlin absolutely cannot take it. they’ve had to full-on hide their face because their face was literally crimson red

“what, you can dish it out but can’t take it, darlin?”

darlin cracks all the crackable joints in their body (back, fingers, neck, ankles etc.) and it drives sam insane because he can hear it so clearly

sam and darlin both give dirty looks to anyone who so much as talks to the other (anyone outside of the pack ofc)

an empowered friend of darlin's tried to hit on them and sam damn near snarled at him before they ran their friend off

they spend the entire summer solstice sleeping on each other

sam and darlin don’t let anyone touch their hair other than each other

darlin's touch starvedness came out five months after they started dating sam and they didn’t let go of him for a solid month (sam didn’t mind at all)

sam always always sits on the armrest of their couch that is closest to the door (and whichever armrest is closest to the door) to be in front of darlin in case of any danger

darlin lets their brain turn off when they’re around sam. they take pride in their independence a lot but at this point they enjoy letting sam take care of them

darlin does whatever sam tells them without thinking when it comes things like “go sit down” and “come here” and “can you..”

they are still very much a brat because they love teasing him and pushing his buttons

darlin loves sam’s hands on their face

contrary to popular belief, darlin gives sam puppy dog eyes in the comfort of their home both with or without their own acknowledgement (they bite their lip sometimes too and it drives sam fucking insane)

darlin sings romantic to explicit song lyrics to sam and he always gets red when they do

darlin has little things that are reserved for sam and sam only (like the little smile they give him when he tucks their hair behind their ear, their little pouts, little noises they make when it’s just the two of them, their clingy behaviour)

darlin is insanely ticklish but the only one knows is sam bc no one else would dare get that close to them (sam comes up behind them and pokes their sides while they’re not paying attention and they flinch hella hard) ((he also tickles them when they’re in bed together or whenever they’re having little couple quarrels))

sam and darlin's immediate trauma response being making out (canon)

whenever sam is mad, at darlin or otherwise, they joke saying, “i’m getting it good tonight” (it's not a joke and they're never wrong)

sam calling darlin ”baby” drives them fucking crazy /pos

sam has little mannerisms (his nose scrunches when he's trying not to laugh, his eyebrow quirks slightly when he lies etc.) that go unnoticed by almost everyone except darlin

 sometimes darlin and sam just talk about their traumatic experiences at night when they can’t sleep. they just recount them without worrying about feeling pitied or judged

sam kisses the top of darlin's head a lot

darlin (and others) catch sam just staring at them quite often and he loves to pretend he’s not

sam gets more jealous than darlin does and that’s saying something (they both get jealous over literally anything) 

sam barely tolerates darlin touching any one other than himself. he's hyper aware of anyone touching them anywhere because he knows they hate being touched most of the time if it’s not by him (and he’s very smug about it ty) and he refuses to admit he's jealous

darlin however is very vocal about their jealously and ownership over sam (they’re very territorial, as are most wolves) they hate when other people compliment or touch him too much. they say, “you’re mine” frequently and sam thinks it’s hot

darlin calls sam baby girl sometimes as a joke and he hates it 

darlin gets so giggly and smiley around sam. sam had half a mind to think it was normal for them but he sees the way they interact with literally anyone else (sam’s darlin & the pack’s darlin are entirely different people) 

sam texts so slowly, darlin doesn’t bother texting him with intent for a response, they call him instead

sam teases darlin just as much as they tease him

[piningforstan]

Head-STAN-ons

Just little things I imagine about Stan’s life and if you were together with him

SFW:

• At night you’ll roll over and he’ll be scrunched up in some ridiculous position. Stan adapted to sleeping in his car and the habit still carries over. You always make sure to ease him out of it.

• He insists on fixing everything around the house in order to spare the expenses. Most of the time he’s able to fix whatever is wrong but on the occasions when he can’t or is too busy, you have to sneak a plumber or builder in while he’s not looking, then act surprised that it fixed itself

• Stan loves 80’s rock, obviously. Secretly, he’s a great singer

• Always loses his glasses. Mabel makes him a bedazzled, glittery chain that he cherishes

• Stan will routinely pretend like he doesn’t know you when you’re out and tries to pick you up. Lame pick-up lines ensue.

• they all work

• You try valiantly to sneak vegetables into his food. He always knows, but sometimes he acts like he doesn’t because it means a lot to him that you care about his health

• He’s always upset after the twins leave so you convince him to coach a coed flag football team. Stan played football in high school for a while before getting kicked out for too many fights. The team becomes his whole personality and he subsequently becomes the grandfather of almost every child in town

NSFW:

• He 100% has a specific shirt he wears after he gets laid, a lá Ron Swanson

• Everyone knows about it

• Stan definitely talks you through it, praising you the entire time

• He’s afraid of never measuring up, so he takes sex pretty seriously — learning everything about you, what you like, what precise movements it takes to hear you make that sound

• Stan loves it when you call him daddy

• Definitely has a breeding kink

• You fucked on the water tower once, bent over the rail, Stan holding a fistful of your hair while you appreciated the view and he appreciated his view

• In that same vein, he always likes to try and one up the craziest place to have sex. But he’s also a sucker for good ol’ lazy morning sex or fucking on the couch, you straddling his lap

• Smoking while he fucks you??? (This has consumed my every thought and I might have to write a oneshot)

• The smallest, strangest aspects of domestic life turn him on — he can’t believe that you’re real, that his life is real and he’s not dreaming. You could just be washing the dishes and he would press up against you from behind, his appreciation nudging into the back of your thigh

• Stan LOVES PDA. Sneaking his hand in your back pocket, kissing you, slinging his arm around your shoulders at all times, holding your waist and keeping you close to him. Wolf whistles. Stan loves pulling you into his lap, hand on your thigh, whispering his dirty thoughts in your ear

[seattlesellie]

i want bbf!ellie to hold me by the hips from behind with her strap poking against my ass under her sweatpants n whisper in my ear in her low n raspy tone asking me to see how im making her feel just from walking around the house in my pretty little slutty skirt :(

sneaking up from behind as you’re washing the dishes… at first, she merely hovers over you and pretends she needs to get something from the cupboard. as soon as her hand meets the glass she makes sure to bump her crotch into the fat of your ass so you know— that she’s been thinking about this all day. tightening the harness on her hips because she knows she’s gonna have to physically fight the urge to bend you over at one point of the day and fuck the shit out of you— truly, life’s too short to fight those urges, she thinks, so she gives in and just… wears it on all day, trying to hide the bulge from everybody except from you, obviously, as soon as she bumps it into your ass— you squeal, and the fork falls out of your hand. she coos a raspy “shit… sorry… made you drop something?”

when you start stuttering and huffing she mutters a small; “dont go shy on me now… i know you’re doing it on purpose, teasin’ me all fucking day n shit”, as she gropes your tits, (mind you— your brothers literally in the living room) twists your nipple so you cry out a small, squeaky “ah!”, and she earns herself a whimper thats a tad too loud, so she covers your mouth and starts grinding it into your ass, and i bet the base of it is so fucking wet when it bumps on her clit <3… keeps on whispering how much of a tease you are and how hard you’re making this shit for her… maybe she also takes it out of her sweats while turning her head left and right to check no one’s looking— hikes your skirt up and groans when she finally sees that thong poking through, gives your cheeks little slaps with the tip <3 makes sure the strap then caresses over your clit through the fabric just for a second, rubbing it on your slit just so she can hear that sweet little moan of her name, and then tucks it right back inside and backs off like she didn’t do shit. as soon as your brother walks in—

“that plate’s a little dirty, man, maybe y’should wash it again”

[mikkomacko]

i feel like i’m being greedy that i keep asking stuff but i just gobble up everything you put out stg

but can you do a lil blurb of how you mentioned nico gets grumpy about jack teasing him about their sex life and reader babying him

i love big boss man but i need her to baby him ( & maybe scold jack too) 🤩💓

A/n: this isn’t so much reader babying Nico. It’s more her letting Nico be tough mafioso man to Jack lol but I can do another with her taking care of grumpy nico if you’d like 🤍

~~~~~

“Jack I’m paying to renovate that whole fucking place for you, stop bitching.”

As if he’d been physically kicked, Jack slumps into his seat at the dinner table, sadly swirling his fork around in his pasta.

Blue eyes look at you, wide and begging. He’s egging you on, you know it. He wants you to sigh, turn to Nico and scold him for being too rough on the boy. It’s what you typically do when Nico gets fed up and snaps at Jack. But tonight he’s right.

Nico had purchased a loft apartment for Jack and Luke and all the younger boys to live in a few years ago. Way before you were in the picture. Through meticulous planning (and his incredible love for his boys) Nico has put aside a whole fund to revamp the place into the perfect bachelor pad for them.

Unfortunately while it’s being worked on, Jack and Luke have moved into the house with you two. And Jack has been making it everyone’s problem.

“I like staying here,” Luke butts in, pasta sauce smeared on the corner of his mouth. “My room is huge, there’s a pool, and we get family dinners.”

“It’s too cold to even use the pool,” Jack sasses his brother, and Luke slurps back a bite of spaghetti.

“Maybe I just like the sound of the water Jack,” the youngest Hughes snips. “We did grow up by a lake, idiot.”

You can sense the oncoming fight, looking to Nico at the head of the table with wide eyes. He’s sipping his red wine, empty dinner plate in front of him and he raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘what are you gonna do about it baby?’

Scoffing, you look between Jack and Luke. “Ok, family dinner is over. You, go wash up and get ready for bed.” You instruct, addressing the older brother.

Jack huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Luke. Knowing he’s going to whine about his brother, you now address the boy sitting next to you.

“And you, finish that plate and then wash up too. You’re both on dish duty and if there’s any whining you’ll be doing it again tomorrow.”

A pleased smirk curls at Jack’s lips and he scoops up his plate before moving to the kitchen. Nico places his now empty glass on the table, using the napkin on his lap to wipe the corners of his mouth. When he drops it onto the table, a cheeky smile has taken over his face.

“Do you need instructions too mister?” You taunt, stacking your plates with his. He grunts, relaxing back into his chair and spreading his thighs out.

“M’just admiring your work boss,” he teases, winking at you. A giggle bubbles out of you, cheeks heating up and you shake your head at him. “Wanna show me how you get them to listen like that?”

“Oh yeah, I can show you a lot of things.” You purr, sliding your sock clad foot across the floor until you meet his shin. Teasingly, you drag your toes up until the apples of his cheeks have grown splotchy.

“You two are disgusting.”

Luke’s words make you jump, having forgotten he was there. Before you can say anything he’s gathering his own dishes and disappearing into the kitchen, shaking that messy head of curls as he goes.

You and Nico snicker, admiring each other with teasing grins for a moment longer before he pushes his chair out. Following his lead, you both take your dirty dishes and glasses to the sink.

Jack and Luke are loading the dishwasher when you enter, backs to you as they talk and hand off objects from the sink.

“Thanks boys,” you say, placing both yours and Nico’s things by the sink. They sigh in unison, Jack just grunting in response and Nico flicks the back of his head as he walks away from them.

A little guilty, you step between the two, sliding an arm around both of their waists. “Turn off the lights before bed ok? I’ll have breakfast in the morning for you both?”

Simultaneously, they pause and look down at you. “Pancakes?”

“Of course,” you agree, and they share a knowing grin before looking back at you and nodding.

Rising to your toes, you peck a gentle kiss to Jack’s head. “Goodnight J,” you murmur, then do the same to Luke. “Night Lukey.”

You step back, let them return to doing dishes. “Night y/n,” they say in unison and you slip under Nico’s awaiting arm. Pinching his side, Nico frowns at you before rolling his eyes.

“See you boys in the morning “ Nico grumbles and you laugh when Luke turns his head back, smiling like a kid on Christmas.

“Night papa.”

Annoyance pinches at Nico’s face. It only gets worse when Jack looks over his shoulder with a devilish grin. “Did ya see her kiss me goodnight boss? You better take care of her or I will.”

The wink he sends you makes Nico scoff and before he can say anything you’re pushing him towards the stairs.

Nico’s huffing and puffing as he climbs the stairs. “Oh I’ll take care of you, alright,” he grunts, eyebrows scrunched together. “Always fucking take care of ya.”

And he does. So you lovingly rub his back as you make your way to the main bedroom, and when Nico closes and locks the door, you let him toss you onto the mattress, ass up of course because that’s his favorite. And then he’s taking his time with you.

If Jack keeps up his teasing, you’re in for a long couple of nights.

~~~~

You meet the boys the next day at The Rock around lunchtime. They had a meeting earlier but Nico wants to take you out to eat after.

By the time you get there, a few have already dispersed but the usual characters are still hanging around the booths with your boyfriend.

Who doesn’t look so pleased now that you actually see him. Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Timo who has a similar look of concern on his face.

“Uh-oh,” he whispers and you nod, closing the rest of the distance between you and the tables.

“Oh there she is!” Jack hollers when he sees you, but you’re watching Nico. Nico, whose cheeks are splotchy and jaw ticking. Nico whose eyes look even darker than usual, a crease between them. Uh-oh is right, you think. He looks at you, places his elbows on the table and hunches over with a shake of his head.

“I’m surprised you made it,” Jack keeps going, and when you look at him in confusion he’s fighting back giggles. “You and Nico had a long night.”

Oh, you realize, looking back at Nico with apprehension. Jack has gotten into his usual habit of taunting Nico about his sex life. Something Nico doesn’t ever like to share, especially with the boys.

He’s raking his fingers through his hair, looking anywhere but you or Jack. The rest of the boys at the table are snickering, except for Luke who looks to Timo with wide eyes. Within seconds they’re scrambling away together, muttering something about drinks behind the bar.

Ignoring the Hughes boy, you address your boyfriend. “Ready to go Nico?”

He looks up at the sound of his name, nose flaring when he clears his throat and nods. Rising from his chair, you walk over to him and take a hold of his hands.

“Hi,” you whisper, placing his palms on your waist. He pulls you into him, presses the lightest kiss on your cheek.

“Hi baby,” he grumbles, and you touch the splotchy part on the left side of his face in an attempt to calm him down.

Not that it gets the chance to work.

“Wait before you go,” Jack is interrupting, pushing himself up to sit on the backrest of the booth. He rubs his hands together, shares a look with Mercer and laughs.

“Could you pick up some earplugs for tonight? Nico is just so fucking loud and if I have to hear him come one more time I’m gonna-“

Nico’s grip on you has tightened, so much so that his blunt nails sting through the fabric of your shirt. He’s angry, so fucking angry you can physically feel him trying to keep himself from reaching across the table and dragging Jack over it by the collar of his shirt. You know he wouldn’t hurt Jack or even scold him for that matter, not without your permission at least. He knows how protective you are over them.

Even when he’s angry, he’s the sweetest man you know.

“Oh baby,” you murmur when he closes his eyes, lashes fluttering with annoyance. Running your hands through his hair, you tune out whatever Jack is still yammering about and lean into to kiss just below Nico’s ear.

“Go scare him,” you whisper so just he can hear you. Nico pulls back instantly, eyes snapping open and looking at you for reassurance. You bite back a smirk, nodding. “Put him back in line boss.”

That’s all Nico needs before he’s releasing you and moving back to the table. Just as you suspected, he reaches over the booth and grips the collar of Jack’s shirt in his fist.

The bar falls deathly quiet, everyone holding their breath as Nico yanks Jack forward onto his hands and knees across the tabletop.

Wide eyed and terrified, Jack scrambles for his footing and stares back at Nico. “Since you’re so fucking tired you can leave,” he growls, and you take a second to admire how hot he looks when he’s angry.

“Nico I’m sorry-“

“For the week,” Nico grunts. “You’re out. And if what I do in my own fucking house is such a problem, you can set up at Haula’s. I’m sure you’ll have fun with the wife and kids.”

Jack is already shaking his head when Nico releases him, nudging him back into his seat.

“Please don’t make me stay with the babies, all they do is cry-“

“You’ll fit right in.” Nico barks, and then he’s turning back to you, winking mischievously. You take his outstretched hand, wiggle your fingers at Jack.

“Y/n,” Jack whines. “Don’t let him kick me out, please?”

“I’ll let Kristin know you’ll be over later,” you tease. Jack pouts, sinks back into his seat and thumps his head against the table.

And when you and Nico pick Jack up from Haula’s in the morning, he’s all apologies and thank-you’s for letting him stay at the house.

[tiredcreatur3]

uhmm how about cowboy! toji and his little farm wife? who just loves to ride him whenever he’s not busy around the farm?

that’s the most precious thing i’ve ever heard and lowkey my dream🥹thank u love.

ride the shit out of him when he’s done working around the field and the farm, all sweaty and tired, working hard to make the little place a good environment for your future babies to grow up in.

“honey, i gotta get in the shower..” he’d moan out but his body would react otherwise, angling his hips just right to make his pretty wife feel good, big hands all dirty from working all day gripping your soft hips after you’ve lifted up your dress, loving how you never wore anything underneath it.

you’d tell him how much you love him, how hardworking he is and how happy he makes you for working so hard to make this a nice place for your family to live at.

and he’d smile at you so lovingly, having fucking heart eyes for his wife, the love of his life, not having his eyes for anybody else because oh, you’re all he needs.

“i-i’m gonna cum..” you’d whimper out, bouncing on his cock and letting out a little surprised gasp once the male would hug you tightly and began to fuck you nice and hard form underneath, wrapping you up in his gentle embrace, breathing in his musk and oh, that’s all you needed to finish, coming nice and hard on your husband’s dick, gripping the back of his still sweaty hair.

“i love you so much, sweetheart.” he’d hum out, slowing down and just carefully bouncing you on his cock, knowing how sensitive you’d always get, kissing the side of your face.

you were scared to take this big step with toji once he came with the idea of owning a farm and living pretty much cut off from everything and everyone.

but oh, you loved it, maybe even more than him. you’d be so happy to take care around the house, wash the dishes while toji would work outside, taking care of the few animals you both had.

it was such a simple and soft way of living and it was very much healing for the both of you. it never got lonely with toji around, always coming inside the house every few hours to check on you.

“i-i love you so much, t-to..” you’d say softly, hugging him tight, so so fucked out, just staying cuddled up to your husband, enjoying each other’s company and being able to wind down after another day at the farm.

[hellishjoel]

slow shift

7k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

Series Masterlist l Next Chapter

series summary: Tommy’s Diner is where dreams go to die and burnouts clock-in for work. Waitressing would be boring without the flirtatious distractions of line cook Frankie Morales.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), swearing, talking about w33d, alcohol consumption (not by reader or frankie, but discussions of alcohol), oral (f! receiving), discussions of periods and Plan B, frankie having a fat d!ick, slightly public sex, unprotected p in v (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), you know how I roll

A/N: welcome to the first part in my linecook!frankie series! It's all just going to be chaos!! enjoy dirty dishes, cussing, and decent food made by the hot linecooks. I’ll have a title as soon as I stop putting it off <3 enjoy! let me know what you think! also how LIT is the banner

here's my masterlist!

**follow hellishfics and turn on notifications get updates on my fic postings**

“Don’t-- mm -- don’t have a lot of time, Francisco.” You teased for dominance, using his full name made him muster up a dirty chuckle.  You were ready to turn around and have him fuck you into the wall, but his hand snagged your wrist, and he stopped you. Confusion screwed into your face. Then his mouth muttered the most filthy thing you had heard yet from him. “Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you.” He muttered, your body slumping into his. Fuck it, you were Frankie Morales’ tonight. 

Welcome to hell. 

A makeshift building somehow still holding up four walls that housed a small restaurant inside. 

This wasn’t some secret treasure that belonged on an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives or a hidden hole-in-the-wall five-star Michelin Restaurant. This was Tommy’s Diner. 

The locals had different names for the run-down dump you called your place of employment: the Hometown Heartburn Hut (true), American Pie ( ha-ha funny), the Rusty Spoon (some guy OD’s behind the place one time, and no one ever forgets), or Tumbleweed, your pothead coworkers liked to call it. It was a tumbleweed because the restaurant was barren, emphasis on the weed to accommodate the faded line cooks that lurked in the back of the restaurant. 

Don’t let today’s slow shift fool you; there were times when Tumbleweed was cram-packed. Friday night football games were busy with tailgaters, bustling with teens after a championship game. Other times, it was when a Greyhound bus or a similar cross-country vehicle drove through and took a stop for the passengers. 

The most popular time of year was in the summer. Tommy’s Diner hosted Saturday night Cruise Nights. The town would flood with classic cars and hot rods, and the diner would transform into a drive-in. Their engines revved through different cities from far and wide to be at Tommy’s. That’s when the place felt the most alive, bustling with people and their laughter, little kids running with their milkshakes and flipping quarters into the rigged claw machine. 

But it wasn’t a Saturday in August. It was a Monday. You were stuck with the misfit motley crew that did everything from dishwashing, cooking, bussing, running the register, being half-ass managers, and, of course, the token pretty waitress. You. 

You will admit that each character working at Tumbleweed had a unique story etched into their grubby hands or baggy-eyed faces. They’ve weathered years of late-night shifts and condiment, grease-stained aprons. 

Tonight there was Lou, the jaded by heartbreak teenage busboy. He walked with a shuffle, always sniffling about an ex-girlfriend. He worked slow and god damn, did that piss you off. 

Then there was Tina, the aspiring singer stuck in a small-town type. She was newer, still learning how things worked since she had never waited tables a day in her life. She had that fresh twinkle of stardom in her eye despite being in her late 30’s. You were training her and trying not to let her drive you up the wall whenever she started singing different songs on the jukebox. Note to self: Put a sticky note saying it’s busted every time you work together. 

Paul was the do-it-all guy. Toilet clogged? Get Paul. Dishes piling up? Ask Paul to do it. The cashier on a bathroom break? Paul can run the till. He was useful, just complained and grumbled a lot. 

Tommy of Tommy’s Diner hasn’t worked a day in years. He’s older, so it’s understandable. Last thing you heard was he was down in Florida, living out retirement in a cheap home with a gambling addiction. Sounded like he was doing well for himself.  But now his idiot son Rudy ran the place. Tommy’s picture was still on dusty display, toothy smile and all at the front door that people huddled in and out of—speaking of. 

Your head lifted to attention as the bell above the door chimed, sighing in annoyance as you leaned back onto the counter. It was just Frankie. 

“It’s fifteen after. You were supposed to be here on time today because we have to set up for Carla’s thing.”

Frankie breezed past you, aviators and stupid ballcap on, his smile lifted in a sneer. He was smacking on pink bubble gum as he neared your part of the counter and purposely shuffled past you with his hips against yours in an attempt to get into the kitchen. You couldn’t help but lean into him with a little smirk. 

“Tommy said it was fine I was late.” He joked once he ducked into the back, your arms crossed as you followed him aimlessly. 

You sigh and lean back against the locker next to his, watching him shuffle off his jacket.

“You disappoint me, Frankie.” Your face held a teasing pout. 

“Never meet your heroes, baby.” That stupid fucking cocky smirk painted his face. 

You opted to roll your eyes and look away as a defense tactic against Frankie’s flirty moves. Frankie calling you baby made your guts twist. 

He was an ass ninety-nine percent of the time, but you two were hired the same summer a few years back and were the only ones who stayed once summer had run its course. You supposed it was bonded trauma after that. 

New workers had come and gone, but you and Frankie were still at Tommy’s, still working crappy shifts on crappy hourly pay. Despite Frankie being a douchebag, he made the place bearable. He was comfortable. You knew each other. 

“Can you just meet me on the floor like you were supposed to fifteen minutes ago and help with the banner? Carla’s going to be here at five, and you still have to make her special-”

“Jesus fuckin’- yes, I’ll be out in a few.” Frankie playfully groaned, shoving the brim of his hat into his mouth to hold it, his hands busy as he tied a tattered red bandana around his forehead before he replaced the cap back on. Okay… hot. 

He took a deep breath once he finished, and leaned against the locker beside you, arms crossed, mimicking you as your shoulder brushed his bicep. You looked up at him, so many inches taller than you, as he looked down. Maybe too far down. He started at your eyes, but those eyes of his tended to wander right down to the cut of your shirt.

“Ugh- Frankie!” You rolled your eyes and pushed him away, readjusting your top as he playfully threw his hands up on the defense. 

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous today, by the way!” He shouted as you exited the locker room, smiling and shaking your head with your back to him and throwing up your middle finger before the door swung closed with your exit. 

---

You stood on the top of a dining table in your sneakers, attempting to hang a shitty banner you had painted for Carla’s birthday. You glanced down at the table and made a little face about the scuff you put in it. Oops. You can try and scrub it later. 

There was no other person you or Frankie would do this stuff for. But it was Carla’s birthday and she was a diamond in the rough at this dump. 

Carla's position at Tumbleweed is a mixture of human resources, accounting, decent management, and a mother figure to not just you but the entire staff. Besides Carla, we could all care less about everyone else's birthday. You were burning this ‘Happy Birthday!’ banner as soon as the clock struck midnight. 

You let out an exhausted huff as you attempted to tack the final hanging string into the wall, but it was just out of reach. That’s when you heard the smacking of his stupid pink bubble gum. You didn’t even have to look. 

“Are you gonna help me or not, Morales?” Your voice seethed in annoyance, not only to Frankie but also cursing your short legs and your just not long enough arms. 

He didn’t say anything. Just crossed the differential space between you and took the tack and string into his meaty fingers. 

You glanced down, watching his teeth capture his lower lip in concentration, checking to see if it was straight. Pushing the pin in, he backed up to where you stood on the dining table and crossed his arms in observance. 

It was incredibly crooked. But it was the thought that counts, right?

“Good enough for me. You?” You glanced down at Frankie, and he was biting back a smile. 

“What?” You pushed, narrowing your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good.” Distracted by something else. “D’you paint this?” The warmth of his hand slowly crept onto the back of your calf, your chest tightening as he slowly skated it higher with no interference from you. 

You gently nod, avoiding his eye contact as you look at the sign. Now, his hand was on the back of your thigh, and you had to take a breath. A mhm was all you could muster up. 

His fingers delicately skimmed the skirt of your uniform, knuckles brushing against your backside. You used to hate these 50’s style waitress uniforms, but now they didn’t seem so damn bad because Frankie’s movements were making you lightheaded. Snap out of it!

“Need help down?” Frankie asked, hand at the ready on your hip. 

You shook your head despite using his assistance anyway. You squatted on the table, black lace panties peeking out as you used Frankie’s broad shoulders as leverage. You put one foot down onto the linoleum and then the other, wiping your hands cleanly down your uniform as you both returned to look at the lopsided sign. 

You hoped it was enough. You hoped she appreciated it, especially all that she’s done for you over the years. Covering your shifts, leveling out the register when you accidentally gave someone the wrong change, tucking extra tips into your apron when she knew your rent was coming up. Everyone needed a Carla, not everyone was lucky to have one. 

“She’s gonna love it,” Frankie seemed to sense your nerves as he lifted his cap to bring some air to his sweaty dark curls before putting it back into place. “I’ll start workin’ on her special. Mushroom Swiss patty melt?” He said before disappearing into the kitchen again, only leaving once you gave him your little nod of assurance. You liked that he remembered.

---

“Happy birthday, Carla!” Uncoordinated voices cheered as Carla entered Tumbleweed right on time for her shift. 

Her face lit up, and she looked beautiful. She packed a little extra blush and eyeshadow to commemorate the special occasion. 

“Oh, shit- oh my- You guys! Thank you!” Carla made special eye contact with you, knowing you were the only one caring enough to orchestrate this shindig. 

Carla has this soulful charm about her. Raised in Louisiana, she loved to cook family recipes and bring the leftovers to work for you and Frankie to fight over. You remember she had three kids at home, so she had this curvy mom's body that put a proud sway in her walk. A playful and confident woman at heart, she was all the regular’s favorite to see. And she knew everyone. And she knew everything. She put Tommy’s back in business during the slower seasons. People would come to see her face on Sunday mornings over their coffee and runny eggs. 

“Oh, baby, thank you.” She cooed as she cupped your cheek and squeezed, making your face tick. “This the red velvet?” Her voice hummed as she observed the cake in your hands, pushing her finger lightly into the frosting to taste it. 

You had pulled one of the cakes from the display case and shitily piped it with chocolate sauce ‘HBD!’. 

“Of course, your favorite... Right?” You pursed your lips and snuck a nervous glance at Frankie before you set the cake down on the countertop. 

Carla looked beyond touched for something you’d consider a bit lackluster. “It’s my favorite ‘cause you made it. Thank you, baby.” 

You glanced around for the cake cutter, watching as Tina pushed a quarter into the jukebox and got the party started. Everyone was doing shitty dance moves, even the one or two customers that had filtered in for a cheap dinner. 

You sighed as you looked behind the counter for the cake cutter, grabbing the cake and its stand to haul it to the back. 

You thrust your shoulder blades into the swinging door, setting the cake stand on the counter as you started sifting through the different drawers to find the serving knife. 

Half a carton filled with cigarettes; Frankie’s. Matches from an old jazzy gentleman’s club; Rudy’s. Hair ties; yours. Where’s the fuckin’ cake cutter?!

The music from the jukebox was more faded in the kitchen. The serving window, professionally called the pass, was just big enough to see faces and hand plates through from the kitchen to the front. 

You made a face when you found the cake server inside a  large pot-- how, no, why? Jesus Christ. Fucking idiots. 

The swinging door to the kitchen wooshed in before slowly creaking closed, seeing Frankie coming to stand beside you in your peripheral. 

You carefully plunged the slicer into the soft sponge of the cake, carving a piece for Carla and setting it on a plate. You reached forward across the counter for another small plate, the short skirt of your uniform revealing the curve of your ass to an overly curious Frankie. You could feel his heat burning through his chest. 

“Could you be less obvious?” Your voice held teasing notes, putting another piece of cake on a plate and pushing them away to make space for more. 

He had tried this a handful of times with you, and he had yet to be successful besides that one time when you both drunkenly made out at the last December holiday party. You were pretty sure he had been hung up on you ever since. You enjoyed watching him try. 

Your eyes flitted over to his, observing his body and facial features. 

He looked gross, honestly. The two meals he cooked including Carla’s special before she came in for her shift made his face and neck sweaty and his hands greasy, his apron to match. It was white at one time, a long, long time ago. His stupid red bandana was still tied around his forehead, catching the spare sweat droplets, as the kitchen became unbearably hot in the middle of August.

You probably didn’t look much better. Hair all over the place with makeup you put on in the morning probably half smudged off by now. Your hands were checkered in pen ink, a spare papercut from snagging a receipt from the register. But still decent. He was still decent. 

His hand was back in dangerous territory, lingering low on your waist. He didn’t care if anyone saw him. You could feel warmth flooding your body, heat from the heart of his hand burning into your hip. He was admiring your body, slow and appreciative as he cupped the curve of your ass. And then he squeezed. 

Your shaky hands barely got the fourth slice you cut onto a small serving plate. The cake cutter clattered onto the metal counter as Frankie shifted his body behind yours, his watchful eyes on the pass. No one was watching, stupid and oblivious. You swallowed a lump down your throat, your small hands clenching the rim of the counter. His hips were flushed against yours. Worst of all was that you really fucking liked it. 

“This okay?” You’re flattered he asked after the fact. 

You leaned back into his touch, quietly humming on the brink of a little moan. You were a little desperate for touch, maybe you’d be on your period soon. “Mhmm..”. 

Frankie was a douchebag, but you two have been flirting back and forth with one another for years like an ongoing tennis match. He was older, he had years on you. Not an obscenely amount, but enough to make people raise an eyebrow. You were surprised he had the balls to actually make a move on you like he was right now. 

“Like you in black.” Frankie’s voice was cut down to a murmur, low and all-enveloping. You weren’t sure if he was referring to the black in your waitress uniform or your black panties. Probably the latter. 

His fingers brushed past your goosebump-covered ass and slipped between your legs to your clothed pussy. You softly gasped, eyes shifting closed as your hips involuntarily leaned into Frankie’s touch. You didn’t look subtle at all. You looked like you wanted to be touched, manhandled, kissed, fucked… 

“Open your eyes, baby girl.” He purred, your chest already heaving. “Act normal.” You forced your eyes open, looking back at him with wide, innocent eyes. Needy pupils connected with his blown-out ones. The back of your head brushed his shoulder, setting it there for just a moment before he looked straight ahead. 

Frankie nodded back to the pass, your eyes following his eye line to everyone distractedly dancing and sipping coffee mixed with bourbon on the floor. 

You bit down on your lower lip, knuckles cast over in a milky white with the iron grip you held on the metal rim of the counter. Frankie’s body heat had disappeared from your back, and now you felt it cast against the back of your legs. You glanced around, seeing him on his knees behind you with his mouth now latched to the back of your thighs. Oh, fuck. His kisses sponged up higher, towards your heat. 

Your eyelashes fluttered, Frankie’s act normal echoing through your hollow head. With distracted hands, you resumed cutting the cake. You probably looked slow and stupid, but feeling his patchy beard hair nestle between the sweet skin of your inner thighs had you in a haze. 

Frankie’s big hands reached under your skirt, lining the black panties that sat snugly on your hips with his forefingers. He slowly peeled them down, feeling the material roll as he stopped them to rest halfway down on your thighs. 

Your shoulders shuddered as your warm pussy met the slight chill of the outside world, panties adorning a little soaked spot. 

“Frankie,” Mm? “Someone’s gonna see.” But you weren’t stopping him. You weren’t telling him to fuck off. You weren’t kicking him right in the gut like you probably could. In fact, you were leaning into him. 

“Such a pretty pussy... Can’t stop, baby.” 

A helpless whimper left your lips, thighs shaking at his affectionate, warm kisses. 

Frankie’s hand swatted at the inside of your right ankle and then the other, hinting for you to spread yourself for him. You pursed your lips and shakily sighed, parting your legs as your sneakers lightly squeaked on the checkered floor. Fuck me, Frankie. 

You didn’t know how much longer you could be patient. The waiting was tantric, hypnotizing you into seduction. 

Spread for him and dripping, Frankie’s mouth finally attached to your slit. Your knee lightly jerked up and smacked a bus tub filled with dirty dishes, a few eyes on you through the pass as you nervously laughed. “S-Sorry!” 

Frankie couldn’t help but let out a warm puff of laughter against your cunt, and you swore your insides were twisting at the sensation. 

“Easy pretty girl… Don’t need us gettin’ caught. You want me to stop?” Frankie’s voice was husky, warm palms spreading your thighs, your body lightly bending over to lean on the counter. You tried to look busy with something, stupidly polishing a random fork. With the extra exposure, he had full access to your sex. 

“Does it look like I want you to stop?” You finally punched out through air-abducted lungs, anxiously chewing on the skin of your lip. “Frankie.” You said in a hushed warning tone, wanting more and not knowing how to ask nicely for it. But that’s what he liked about you. You weren’t nice. 

His lips finally attached properly to your pussy, his devilish tongue lining the center of your cunt and flicking off your clit. Your head dropped, ears ringing at the sensation. 

You wondered how good he would feel if he could take his time instead of giving you head quick while all your coworkers were distracted.  Maybe he could run his thumb over the front of your panties, trace the seam of your pussy, and feel how soaked you were for him and his attentive fingers. You thought Frankie had always been so down bad for you. He probably dreamed about getting this opportunity. He finally got you when you were just as horny for someone with a pulse. But this wasn’t all the time in the world; this was a slow shift at Tommy’s. 

You rut your hips back into Frankie’s face, hot pants fanning fog onto the cool metal of the counter. 

Frankie put his mouth where you needed him most, his tongue dedicating a poem to you. He flattened his tongue and licked a wide, wet strip up through your core, taking in all your juices. His tongue lapped at your weeping hole, thighs shaking against his head as you stifled a moan into the counter. 

He was good, manipulative, a fucking menace. 

Frankie’s tongue made precision flicks against your bundle of nerves, a gasp a bit too loud leaving the kitchen as you whimpered broken fragments of his name. 

You weakly looked up, seeing Tina pluck another quarter in the jukebox, cranking the volume to some seventies soul music. Fuck being quiet. 

Concealed by the groove of Stevie Wonder singing We Can Work It Out, your moans were hidden by the shake of a tambourine and plucks to an electric guitar. 

“Goddammit, Frankie, mmm, so fucking good,” a gasp and a moan followed suit, lazily smirking with your eyes closed. “So fucking… hot.” You murmured. 

Frankie’s mouth was a welcome wonder, dedicated to making you cum. He was swirling his tongue around your clit, weakly flattening your front over the counter again and pressing your cheek against the cool metal. Don’t be a douche right now, Francisco Morales. Make me fuckin’ cum. 

The kitchen door swiftly swung open, and your body flew up to stand straight as Carla waited in the doorway. 

“What’s taking you so long to cut my cake, baby? I know that bitch is stale as hell, but that don’t mean I don’t want it.” 

Your eyes were wide, lips parted in an attempt to speak, but Frankie’s movements didn’t cease despite Carla’s unexpected intrusion.  You bit back a whimper as he lined his tongue just barely into the tight entrance of your walls, his greedy fingers piercing into the flesh of your thighs to keep you spread. Thank god the counter covered your waist down. 

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll be out in a sec.” 

Carla looked you up and down, curious but ultimately not giving a damn. You could feel Frankie’s dirty smirk against your thighs. 

“Alright... Hurry up. I’m tryna get my dessert.” 

And with that, the door swished closed, and your back slumped at the relief. 

Frankie’s unexpected voice made you jump lightly, his words echoing against you. “Gotta make ya finish fast, princess. Want my dessert, too.” 

You whimpered but willed yourself to stand up straight and turn around to face him. He looked like a mess. Lust-filled black eyes and a cocky smirk to match. Your juices glistened on his lips and chin. Frankie would be incredibly hot if he knew how to keep his mouth shut. 

“Taste as good as you look, princess.” Frankie stood up, tall and broad body making a white hot spot form in your stomach. Fuck,  you couldn’t do this right now. Not right here. 

He could tell. He took a few cautious steps away, you watched him carefully like a rattlesnake. He knew when not to push you and when to let you make the decisions. He also knew how to give you orders when you were too pussy fucked to think straight. 

“Serve that cake and meet me out back.” He was looking over you, enjoying the few times you looked totally fucked like you did right now. He stepped back into your space and pulled your panties back into place, a sobby whimper leaving your lips as he gently cupped your aching mound with a smirk. “So fuckin’ needy, huh?” 

“Fuck off.” You mumbled, fixing the bottom half of your uniform. 

You watch as Frankie grabs the beer bottle you all used as a makeshift door prop and his half-carton of cigarettes you had brought out of a drawer in an attempt to find the cake cutter. He disappears out back into the alley. Shit, the cake. 

You hurriedly sliced the remainder of the cake, placing a few stray candles into the slices. You lit them once you greeted the group waiting on the floor, singing a shitty rendition of Happy Birthday.  Paul lights his cigarette from one of the candles, puffing smoke across the frosting. 

The crowd hastily grabbed one of the small plates and a fork. Most of you only tried a bite or two. The cake had been in the display case for far too long. 

---

Anxious and impatient, you slip into the back with everyone’s dirty dishes and sneak back into the kitchen. You do nothing more with them than chuck them into the sink for Lou to wash up at some point or another. Your eyes stare at the beer bottle keeping the back kitchen door ajar. You take in a deep breath, leaving a shaky sigh before following Frankie out into the alley. 

The air was warm, a welcome breeze passing over you. The alley was everyone’s hideaway, littered with crushed beer and soda cans, two large garbage dumpsters, and a large one for recycling. You could see the highway in the distance. The sun was setting, and the sky was turning purple and blue. You’d watch those cars drive right past your little town, paying no mind, probably off going to somewhere bigger and better. The only people from the highway who stopped to visit Tommy’s were people who didn’t know any better. 

A flick of a lighter crackled, dividing your attention. Frankie was smoking his cigarette, his back leaning against the brick wall of the diner. He was trying not to smirk. Seeing you out here was way too much power for him. He took a drag, the end of his cigarette lighting up in a glowing orange haze before he pulled it from his mouth. The smoke he exhaled was taken by the breeze. 

“Happy to see me?” His goading tone asked.

“No.” A challenge. A pause. 

“So, you want me to go back inside?” 

“No.” Another beat. A step closer to him, arms crossed. He’s smart enough to let his cigarette land on the ground. 

“So, you want me to stay out here?”

Silence. Staring. Gauging each other’s reactions. Your tight jaw meets his cocky smirk. Too stubborn to ask meeting too stubborn to give without begging. Fuck. 

Maybe it’s because you’re both desperate. Maybe because Frankie knows you. Knows you’re too stubborn to ask for him to fulfill your needs. Your inaction meets his unwillingness to waste another moment that he could be inside of you. 

Stomping on his cigarette before closing the distance between you two, he envelopes you in a kiss that robs you of your breath. He tastes musky and bitter. The smoke that recently captured his lungs was hot on your lips. 

Your heart was beating with excitement, happy to lose control for a moment as Frankie walked you blindly backward into the brick wall. Ouch. 

Your tongues danced in a rhythmic motion, seducing you into letting him take the power as the kiss deepened. The flavor was subtle but distinct. The Marlboro’s held an acrid undertone, an unexpected layer of the kiss you sort of liked. If he tasted like spearmint gum, it might have turned you off. 

It was like you were his cigarette now, breathing you in and clinging to you in addiction. It was his bad habit, but who were you to judge. You had a closet full of skeletons you weren’t open to anyone seeing. Maybe this was one of his. 

His hands were a welcome guest, feeling his warm palms explore a body he had probably fantasized about. 

“Don’t-- mm -- don’t have a lot of time, Francisco.” You teased for dominance, using his full name made him muster up a dirty chuckle. 

You were ready to turn around and have him fuck you into the wall, but his hand snagged your wrist, and he stopped you. Confusion screwed into your face. Then his mouth muttered the most filthy thing you had heard yet from him. “Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you.” He muttered, your body slumping into his. Fuck it, you were Frankie Morales’ tonight. 

Frankie guided you further from the backdoor, hearing voices enter the kitchen. Probably Paul and Lou to start working on closing chores. He took you behind the dumpsters and hiked up your dress. You decided to be useful and push your panties down. He rounded up the material that was tying you up at your ankles and shoved them into his pocket. You were not letting him keep those. 

You pushed his apron aside, fingers fussing over his belt buckle. He watched, amused, unwilling to help. He liked seeing you so desperate for his cock. Unbuttoned. Unzippered. Black boxer trim peaking out now. You made slight eye contact with him before you shoved his pants and boxers down to his thighs. Your heart clenches at how girthy he was. Fuckkk, this was gonna feel good. 

He didn’t take his apron off, merely shoved it to the side as it haphazardly swayed on his hip. He closed the distance between you again, a greedy kiss, a kiss to mark you with. You pulled away to spit into your hand, taking him by his base and squeezing. 

Frankie’s eyes shuddered closed, his head dropping as you took his manhood in the small of your hand. He was.. more than a handful. He was so meaty, not even able to wrap your fist fully around him. 

You purred out a little moan as you worked your hand over him, feeling him grow heavy in your hand as you lubed up his tip, slowly circling your thumb teasingly around the pulsing head. 

“Enough.” He muttered. He didn’t like you toying with him. 

Frankie hiked up your leg by the underside of your calf, hooking around his hip as you leaned your back against the cold brick wall. It wasn’t comfy, but when you fuck against a run-down diner, you don’t get many options. 

Your chest shuddered as you felt his cock heavy against your folds, erect and brushing up against where you needed him most. He was running his hand up and down himself now. You watched as he put down another line of spit from his mouth to his cock before his knuckles shuffled up and down his shaft a few more times. 

The sight made you reel your head back and stare up at the sky. As eager as you are, you’re worried about feeling how thick he is. He knows. 

“M’gonna go real slow.” He punches out, setting his forehead down against yours, and you shakily nod. Please don’t fucking split me in two, Frankie Morales. You still have a shift to finish, after all. You’re thankful he at least acknowledges his girth. It’s sort of the elephant in the room. 

You both look down at your centers, your dripping one and his angry, pink head meeting in unison. It’s sort of fucked up the way that you’re two horrible people. But you knew horrible people always seemed to find each other.  

You wet your lips and bite down. Hard. You weren’t a fresh spring virgin, but this wasn’t any other half-decent dick. 

You lay your head back against the wall as Frankie guides himself into your welcoming entrance. Your wetness lubes him up well, but he’s still large. 

You clench your eyes close and smile. The pain is always pleasure. “Fuck,” you mutter, your head wanting to come back down and watch. 

Frankie’s being gentle, an odd word you’d never describe him as. He’s grunting and impatient, but patient for you. He fills you up to the brim and your head is flooded with clouds. You’re in the sky, lightheaded, but so fucking horny. 

His hips meeting yours are a gentle greeting, both of your lips brushing as you shared pants of desperation as well as relief. Your stomach was tight, recoiling with the pressure he was providing to the inside of your walls.

“God-

“Jesus-

“-fucking damn.”

“Christ.” 

The two of you moaned in unison. 

Your nails are piercing into his shirt, bunching around the tops of his shoulders. You move to grip his apron for some sort of control. There is none. 

One of his hands is still supporting your leg wrapped around his hip, the other flattened against the brick wall beside your head. You took solace in his arm, resting your forehead against it weakly. 

He was cocky for a reason. His length in inches was his amount of reasons. 

“Fuck me.” You finally mustered up enough strength to demand. He shakes his head against yours. 

“Give it a minute.” He mutters, barely coherent. You’re scrumptiously tight around him, and you know it. You both do. 

“We don’t have a minute.” You feverishly bite back, attempting to shift your hips against his. He retaliates by planting his hips against you, fucking the final few inches of his dick into you as you both fell deeper into the wall. 

A hot moan rolled off your tongue, hiding your face away in his forearm and shuddering your eyes closed. Frankie’s hand slipped from your leg, cupping the globe of your ass in his warm hand. He squeezed and it made you smile as he reeled his hips slowly back. 

He grumbles something. 

“What?” You asked with a dopey grin. He pushes back inside you and wipes the smirk clear off your face. 

“I said… you’re so fuckin’ impatient.” His voice was tattered with grunts, your tight little pussy making it hard for him to breath. 

Now he was creating a rhythm, fucking you into the wall in steady thrusts. You were already feeling your insides tug eagerly in excitement, the hot pool he had created in your guts simmering to a boil. 

“Mhmm, mhm, mhm,” you moaned in silent begs, moans you had to read between the lines to understand. Fuck me, fuck me harder, fuck you feel good, I-I can’t think of anything other than fuck! Fuck me, Frankie!

He filled you up to a brim you had yet to discover you had. His tip tickled your cervix with each snap of his hips. He was getting greedy, a little sloppy. You’d judge him on this short-lived fuck later, for now, it was perfectly timed to get back into work without anyone noticing. 

Your eyes widened and met his murky brown ones as he moved the hand he had against the wall nudged between your thighs, circling your clit. It was messy at first, but he found what made you tick and adjusted. Now he was running tight circles around you, and you were finding it hard to stay silent. 

“Feel so fuckin’ perfect for me.” He murmured, his lips ghosting over yours in a teasing motion. You actually wanted to taste him again, so you leaned into it, your tongue lining his mouth and tasting his old cigarette with a moan. 

Now he was filling you up, no hesitancy in his hips as he snapped the full extent of his length into your cunt. Your head flew back against the orange and red brick, a fucked moan leaving your mouth. Neither of you cared. Frankie’s face was nuzzled against your jawline and neck, sloppy kisses tasting old perfume as the circles on your clit intensified your impending orgasm. 

“F-Fuck, Frankie, shit, I’m gonna-” You gasped and closed your eyes, clutching your arms weakly around his shoulders and holding him to you. His body enveloped you like a shield protecting you from anything in your surroundings. 

Your orgasm crashed over you, coursing through your body like a million volts of electricity as you whimpered and moaned into his neck. Your eyes were clamped closed, your walls clenching and fluttering around his sensitive cock. 

His moans were heavenly, guttural and deep, a little shaky even as he puffed them into your neck and shoulder. His hips twitched against the inside of your thighs as he came undone inside of you. It felt like he was cumming for days, filling you up with white rope after white rope of his semen and painting your insides with only remnants of him. 

You couldn’t think. You just focused on the distant sound of the highway, creating a bustling amount of white noise for you. You gently held his head to keep him close, your shaky hand winding into his hair as the two of you reconciled over your orgasms. 

He was the first one to move. He slipped himself from you and gave you a few lazy kisses. Your stomach fluttered before you shook your head.

Stop it, Frankie. 

‘M not doin’ anything. 

Teasing smiles. Hands softening their holds on each other’s bodies. Fixing hair. Fixing undergarments. 

He would have held onto your panties. He probably hoped you forgot about them. You tugged them from his pocket and attempted to slip into them with ease, but you ended up having to use the brick wall as a support to lean into. 

You steadied his apron straight, and he pulled the skirt of your uniform down. Teamwork. 

You don’t really talk, just clean yourselves up, nod, and dart back inside before anyone can really notice or give a damn that you were missing in action. You kept having to excuse yourself to the bathroom, feeling Frankie still seeping from you. It made your chest hot, an embarrassed smile on your face. 

Fuck it. That’s what Plan B is for. Or you can just wait to see if you get your period in a few days time. 

---

You and Frankie danced around one another during the closing shift. Carla went home and took the cake in a to-go container to give to her kids. It was shitty that she had to work on her birthday, but she said that getting to see your gorgeous face was a present of its own. 

You tiredly yawned, seeing it was a few minutes past ten. You helped Tina even out the cash register, putting today’s earnings in an envelope, then putting it in the safe for Rudy to take to the bank at the end of the week. 

“You sure you don’t mind cleaning up on your own?” Tina asked, giving her a tired smile and a soft shrug. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you Wednesday.” Despite her annoying singing, Tina wasn’t that bad. She gave you a big grin before she hopped off the stool and left out the front door. Lou and Paul had already left at the start of closing. You didn’t know if Frankie snuck out the back early. 

You did a double take to the jukebox, watching Frankie flip his baseball hat backward and push a quarter into the machine. Your face softened, seeing him flip between the different records before landing on one. 

Something by Fleetwood Mac started playing. You watched him reach up and untack your banner from the wall easily. You nodded softly before grabbing the spray bottle filled with disinfectant and began wiping down the counters, seats, and tables. 

He walked up to you once you finished cleaning, handing you your folded-up banner. You twisted your lips in thought, rolling the banner around in your hands. 

“Wanna help me burn this in the burn barrel out back?” 

Frankie sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah. Fuck it. Got nothin’ better to do.” 

---

With Frankie’s lighter, both of you watched with glassy eyes as the Happy Birthday! banner burnt to ashes. His face was lit up in orange and yellow hues. He haphazardly tried to lean into the flames with a cigarette dangling between his lips, a stupid laugh leaving you. He shrugged and put the cigarette behind his ear. 

“Fuck it.” He huffed, both of your eyes transfixed on the fading flames.

There was a beat of silence. 

Frankie’s eyes met yours. “We should do that again sometime.” 

Half of your mouth quirked up into a smirk.  “Do what?”

He cocked his head to the side in annoyance. “You know what.”

You shrugged and shoved your hands into your jacket pockets. The hum of the highway in the distance made you flashback to just a few hours ago with Frankie railing you against Tumbleweed. A black and purple-streaked night sky submerged the two of you, making you feel tiny. You sigh and shift on your feet, keeping your eyes on the flames that licked up the ay! in Birthday!

“Maybe.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Maybe?” 

“Mhm.”

Frankie teetered on your half-ass decision. Even the notion of having an open door left for him to sneak in was enough to make him happy. “Okay. I’ll take a maybe.” 

God, you were bluffing so hard. Maybe it wouldn’t be sooo bad to throw him a bone every once in a while. 

Your fantasizing was cut short as ashes of the banner spewed up from the depths of the barrel and fluttered up into the air between you and Frankie, both of you taking a preemptive step away.

His lighter clicked again; he had to do it a few times before the end of his cigarette caught a flame. “I’ll see you when I see you.” He murmured. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was trying to walk you to your car, wanting to leave, but not until you started heading home, too. 

He swung his body into the driver seat of his beaten-up pickup truck. You decided to follow suit, sliding into your car. You saw Tommy’s fade away from the rearview mirror in the distance. But the thoughts of Frankie between your legs, fucking you into oblivion, and begging to serve your aching center would sit with you until your next shift at Tumbleweed. Sorry. Tommy’s Diner. 

---

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[lovelytsunoda]

the man with the hex // liam lawson

summary: he stayed to hand out candy but actually just wanted to make out. unfortunately, hungry kids won’t wait to ring the doorbell.

pairing: liam lawson x female! reader

warnings: allusions to sex, liam is a horny teenager, very suggestive but no smut, reader gets baby fever real fast and liam has a dirty mouth. I am incapable of writing anything wholesome about this man, apparently.

"jesus fuck!"

"y/n y/m/n y/l/n, watch your language!" her mother shouted from the kitchen

next to her on the couch, liam snickered, pulling her closer. guillermo del toro's 'cabinet of curiosities' was playing on the screen, and y/n had been jumpy throughout the whole episode.

y/n was a gentle soul. she preferred cozy mysteries, and humorous action thrillers as opposed to straight up horror. sure, the pillars of the slasher genre were wonderful films (she's first in line to see any new 'scream' movie), but she did not do well when she was genuinely scared.

"sorry, mom!" she shouted, resting her head against liam's shoulder. "liam has bad taste in movies."

"it's one episode!" the kiwi laughed. "i'm sorry, you can pick the next movie."

y/n rolled her eyes, getting up from the couch to hug her parents goodbye. she and liam had agreed to stay in that night, allowing her parents to go to an annual charity event thrown by one of her fathers friends. her sister was at a party, and as someone who had a quiet, peaceful life and wasn’t always invited to things, y/n was extended a chance to stay at home.

of course, learning that they would have the house to themselves, liam was all too quick to tag along, for less than wholesome reasons. while y/n had planned a couple's movie night, complete with matching hotel transylvania costumes and a stack of scooby doo movies, wheras liam had planned to get her to scream in more ways than one.

y/n got up from the couch, her nylon-clad feet skidding across the hardwood as she went to hug her parents. "bye guys, i'll see you in the morning."

"have a great time, mr. and mrs. (your last intital)!" liam shouted

"no funny business with my daughter, lawson. and no drinking." her father scolded, pointing his finger towards his daughter's boyfriend.

"dad! we're adults, i think we can handle ourselves." she laughed, giving her father a hug before her parents went out the front door.

she closed the door behind them, leaving it unlocked and the jack-o-lantern on the front porch turned on before backtracking to the kitchen and refilling the candy dish she and liam had been snacking from.

"you'll have to keep an ear out for the front door, but other than that, do you want to put beetlejuice on when this is over?" she suggested, bringing the candy bowl back over to the couch and curling into her boyfriend.

"i dunno, your parents are gone, i kind of hand something else on my mind." liam grinned, one hand trailing up her thigh.

"oh yeah?" she purred, maneuvering herself into liam's lap, poking his nose before kissing him softly, her blue lipstick smearing against his skin.

liam cupped her face with his free hand, his other arm going around her waist to pull her closer. she hummed contentedly as she nestled her body into his, taking his top lip in between her own.

“your lipstick tastes good.” liam remarked, lips ringed in the dark blue cosmetic. “like blue raspberry.”

“you’re such a dork.” she giggled, brushing an errant blonde hair out of his face before kissing her lover again.

liam moaned into it, feeling himself grow harder every time that her thigh brushed over his crotch. she was driving him wild, the end of cabinets of curiosities forgotten as they made out like teenagers.

the doorbell rang, startling them both as they jolted on the couch. y/n pulled away from liam, wiping the smudged gloss from her swollen lips before getting off the couch and reaching for the bowl of cadbury chocolates across from her.

“trick or treat!”

there were three kids standing in the doorstep, each dressed as a different superhero as they held pillowcases out in front of them as she dropped handfuls of pocket sized chocolates into the bags.

“you kids have a great night.” she chirped, waving not just to the kids, but to the parents waiting on the sidewalk before slipping back into the house.

she left the plastic candy dish on the front bench, a grin on her face as she went back to the living room. liam hadn’t mailed from the couch, one hand over his eyes and the other clutching a throw pillow over his crotch.

“seriously, liam?” she laughed, reaching for the tv remote. “come on, we have to be aware of our surroundings. little kids are going to be knocking on the door all night.”

liam groaned. “sounds like hell to me, babe.”

she shook her head, grinning as she used the remote to navigate over to the amazon icon to rent ‘beetlejuice.” she was just about to hit rent when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist.

“liam!” she shouted, giggling as he nuzzled his cold nose into the tender flesh of her neck. “you know you’re just gonna get interrupted again, right?”

“don’t care.” he hummed, pressing kisses up and down her throat. “babe, we finally have the house to ourselves and I am so fucking horny for you right now.”

she giggled, extracting herself from liam’s hold to teasingly bend down near the coffee table, placing the realtor back on the glass top. at the sight of her skirt riding up over her orange and black nylon tights, the lacy hem of her panties visible through the nylon as she bent over, the kiwi could hardly contain himself.

especially when there was another ring of the doorbell.

this time, liam offered to get the door, almost dropping the candy bowl as he tried to get the door open, shaking hands unable to grasp the doorknob as be tried to get his breathing under control.

“woah, are you liam lawson?” one of the kids shouted, his voice echoing through the street. “I watched you on tv last week!”

despite himself, liam laughed. “right on, kiddo!” he held his fist out for a fist bump, kneeling to the kids level. “hang on just a second and I’ll get my girlfriend out here to take a picture of the two of us, yeah?”

“you seem cheerful for a man that didn’t want to hand out candy.” y/n chuckled from the doorway. “come on then, pass me his iPod touch or whatever and I’ll get the best fan pics he’s ever seen.”

the kids eyes lit up as liam moved to crouch next to him, matching his height almost exactly as y/n snapped a few pictures.

“your girlfriend is really pretty.” the kid said, giddy as he took his iPod back. “are you guys going to get married?”

liam laughed heartily, tactfully avoiding the question as he asked the kid what his favourite part of the race in qatar had been, dropping a handful of cadbury chocolates into the mummy shaped bucket.

once the kid was gone and the door was closed, he wasted no time in pulling y/n close and sliding his hands up her dress.

“someone’s eager. if anyone should be exited after watching you interact with kids, it should be me.” she giggled, kissing his cheek.

her lipstick was dry now, and liam found himself slightly disappointed that it didn’t leave a mark.

liam raised an eyebrow. “oh, yeah? so in addition to making you scream my name tonight, should I fill you up with my cum? start practicing for when it’s time to get you pregnant?”

she nodded eagerly, wishing for nothing more than liam pressing her up against the foyer wall and taking what he wanted. what they both wanted.

“fuck.” liam breathed, his breath warm on her skin. “you’re really hot when you have baby fever, you know that? and that kid wasn’t even a baby, he was like five.”

“shut up and kiss me, lawson.”

but just as liam leaned in, the fucking doorbell rang.

he cursed, throwing his head back in a groan as y/n gave him a sympathetic smile. she picked up the candy bucket, dutifully opening the front door and greeting the horde of kids who had chased each other up the driveway and around liams bmw.

while her back was turned, distracted by handing out candy, liam reached his breaking point, scrambling to find a piece of paper and a pen.

please take one handful each, and ring the doorbell if bowl is empty. we are home but enjoying a scary movie night and my girlfriend is jumpy :)

when y/n turned away, closing the door behind her, liam was quick to grab the bowl, whisking it away to the kitchen and ignoring his girlfriends confused look as he practically overfilled the bowl, taking on the sign and leaving it on the cast iron bench outside the house.

“now, where were we?” he grinned, pulling her in for a kiss. she broke out into a smile, knowing exactly why liam had done what he did. “that bowl is almost full, it will keep the kids occupied for a very long time.”

“what if someone takes the whole bowl? what then?” she giggled, playfully teasing her lover, hands gently rubbing at his shoulder blades.

“then I’ll buy your mom a new one.” he decided, paying the matter very little attention as he swept his girlfriend off her feet, carrying her bridal style towards the stairs. “now, my fair maiden, you bedroom awaits.”

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @httpiastri @clemswrld @love4lando @scuderiamh @lorarri @cartierre @silverstonesainz @arshiyuh @twinkodium

[st-eve-barnes]

I could be your lifeline

(modern Aegon x fem Reader)

Summary: When you visit Helaena's apartment you find her depressed brother Aegon instead.

Word count: +3100

Warning: 18+ for explicit language and content, handjob, dry humping in the shower (so wet dry humping I guess?), no penetration. Mentions of depression, Aegon is a sad wet puppy.

I missed writing this troubled baby so you guys get some more comfort smut. This was written quickly so forgive me for any mistakes (or kindly point them out to me)

***

You knocked on the door to Helaena’s apartment that afternoon, dropping by just to have a chat as you so often did when you were in the neighborhood. You hadn’t expected to find another Targaryen at the doorstep, one you hadn’t seen in too many years. 

For a moment you were too stunned to speak. He looked rough, his hair shorter than it was back when you knew him but still just as messy, his eyes were red and his hoodie wrinkled and about three sizes too big for him. There was no polite way to say it, Aegon looked like shit.

“Hel’s not home,” he spoke, voice as rough as the rest of him.

“Oh, okay, I guess I can come back later then.”

“You’re free to come in and wait, if you want. She shouldn’t be too long.”

“Okay, sure, yeah.”

Aegon stepped aside and let you in. 

You immediately noticed the empty beer cans on the kitchen counter, and the dirty dishes in the sink. The tv was playing in the background and the entire room smelled of cigarettes, curtains were closed even though it was 4 in the afternoon on a cloudy day.

“She just went to the store cause we ran out of food,” Aegon explained.

“Okay,” you nodded and took a seat at the kitchen counter.

“Can I…um…get you a drink or something?” he asked.

“Just some water is fine.”

You watched as he grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets and filled it up for you.

“Hel didn’t tell me you were back,” you broke the silence between you two after he handed you the drink.

“I’m not, this is just…temporary.”

“Rehab didn’t stick then?” you nodded towards the empty beer cans all around the kitchen and living room table.

Aegon gave a weak smile,”Nope.”

He kept staring at you with a somewhat confused look on his face.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” you then asked.

“I feel like I should but…sorry, no.”

You told him your name but Aegon still looked at you as if he’d never seen you before in his life.

“I used to sleepover in Hel’s room all the time when we were little,” you explained,”Aemond always ignored me, you always bullied me."

Aegon stared at you for a while longer and then his lips curled up into a hesitant smile.“Aemond ignored you because he had a mad crush on you and didn’t know what to do about it.”

“Is that why you bullied me?”

“Hey, first of all, I never bullied you, I teased you, there’s a difference.”

“Hmm,” you grinned.

He avoided your eyes and you noticed he was blushing a little when he repeated your name,”Of course. I can’t believe I didn’t remember you.”

“It’s been many years, Aegon,” you reassured him,”We were just kids.”

“You look so different.”

“Older.”

“That’s not what I was going to say. You look…really good.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, letting your eyes meet his,”You look…”

“Like shit,” he finished your sentence while he sat down next to you.

“Like life hasn’t been kind to you,” you corrected him.

He nodded his head and sighed, quietly,”Yeah.”

“What happened?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he shrugged,”Depression, anxiety, addiction, pick one. It’s just…all so fucking meaningless, you know? Life’s…I don’t know, sometimes I think I’m just not equipped for it. ”

You took your time to look at him, his face was so pale it looked like he hadn’t seen sunlight in months.

“When did you last leave the house?” you asked.

He shrugged,”What’s the point?”

“When, Aegs?” you insisted.

“It’s been a few days, maybe a week,” he confessed.

“Aegon,” you sighed.

“It’s fine, you don’t…you don’t need to pretend to care.”

“I do care, Hel’s been my best friend since we were kids. You’re important to her, so you’re important to me as well.”

Aegon just shook his head,”But we haven’t been kids in a really long time, haven’t we?”

“No, we haven’t,” you gave him a soft smile.

“You look like you grew up so well. You must have a successful husband and a great career, maybe even soms kids?”

You laughed,”None of those actually, but life’s been okay.”

“That’s good,” Aegon sighed,”I’m glad. At least one of us should do well.”

He stared out in front of him without saying anything else, clearly zoning out of the conversation.

“Listen, why don’t we go for a short walk outside?” you suggested,”Get you some fresh air?”

Aegon looked at you in surprise and for a moment it looked like he was going to take you up on your offer but then his face fell.

“No, I…I can’t go out like this,” he shook his head, withdrawing from you.

“When was the last time you showered?” you asked.

Aegon sighed again,”It’s definitely been a few days, maybe a week.”

“Do you want to shower now?” you tried.

“I…it’s not that I don’t want to but…”

You stood from your seat and carefully took his hand,”Come on.”

“What are you doing?”

“Dragging you to the bathroom.”

Much to your surprise he stood from his seat and followed you towards the hallway and into the bathroom.

You turned on the water of the shower and closed the door behind you both.

Aegon just stood there in the middle of the room without moving, suddenly awkward and shy having you in this private space with him.

This was going to take a little more work than you initially thought.

“Come here,” you slowly grabbed the hem of his hoodie and started pulling it over his head, followed by his t-shirt. Aegon didn’t protest but he wasn’t really cooperating either, letting you pull at his clothes as if he were a doll you were playing with.

You threw his shirt and hoodie in the washing bin and then placed yourself in front of him again, searching to meet his eyes. It took a moment for him to look back at you. 

“Hey, this will only take a few minutes, okay, you can do this. You’ll feel better afterwards, I promise.”

Aegon nodded but he still wasn’t making any attempts to take off the rest of his clothes.

You carefully took his hand again, trying to pull him out of his daze,”I can take your pants off for you but maybe that’s something you’d rather do yourself.”

This time his nod was accompanied but the tiniest of smiles and he started pushing down his sweatpants.“Turn around.”

You did as he asked and heard him take off his underwear and socks before he stepped into the shower, the curtain blocking him from your view now.

“You alright in there?” you asked after a while.

There was no answer and you could tell by his shadow that he’d stopped moving again.

“Aegs?” you checked.

“I’m fine,” he eventually answered but even with the water running you could hear his voice was breaking, and the next thing you heard was him crying.

“Shit,” you sighed. “Aegon, are you alright in there?”

No answer, only loud sobs.

You only hesitated for a minute or so before you realized there was only one thing to do if you wanted to pull him out of this funk and finish that shower. You started taking off your clothes and put them in a neat pile on the floor before you reached for the shower curtain, taking a deep breath before slowly pulling it open.

“What are you doing?” Aegon gasped, eyes widening in surprise at your naked form.

“Getting in there with you,” you answered.

“I..what…are you…fuck…,” he stuttered.

“It’s no big deal, we’ve seen each other naked before, we used to go skinny dipping all the time, remember?”

“When we were kids!” he pointed out,”This is not…shit…”

“If I get out again will you start showering?” you asked.

Aegon’s eyes met yours and just like that he was crying again. You closed your eyes with a sigh and opened them again in surprise when you felt Aegon’s hand grab hold of yours. His touch was soft and hesitant and it made you shiver.

“It’s okay,” you whispered comfortingly, squeezing his hand,”We’ll do it together, yeah?”

He nodded and you grabbed one of the bottles from the shelf, putting some shower gel all over your hands before slowly rubbing it over Aegon’s shoulders and chest, arms and stomach. He sighed into your touch and after a few minutes you noticed his breathing was calming down.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered after a while, avoiding your eyes,”I’m so fucking useless…you should’t have to do any of this…”

“Hey,” you placed your hand firmly on his chest and looked into his eyes,”You’re not useless, you’re human and you’re just having a hard time. It’ll be okay, Aegs.”

The sad, desperate look in his eyes was pulling at your heart strings now and you couldn’t help but lean in and rest your forehead against his for a moment, your hand cupping his cheek to wipe away some of his tears. Aegon closed his eyes and leaned into you.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Turn around,” you then asked softly, continuing what you’d started and grabbing the bottle of shampoo to wash his hair,”Lean back a little.”

Aegon followed your instructions without speaking but his little drawn out sighs and quiet moans every time you touched him reassured you that whatever you did was helping to make him feel better. And you didn’t want to stop.

He didn’t move the entire time you were washing him. It wasn’t until you’d rinsed the soap off of him and turned off the water that he suddenly reached for your hand again, his voice a soft but firm whisper,”Please, I…it feels so good when you touch me like that…I don’t…please don’t stop.”

Your eyes met his,”Does that help? Physical touch? Is that…”

Aegon nodded firmly, lacing his fingers with yours,”Yes, please, I need to feel you…it quiets my mind…so much…please.”

“Do you want me to take care of you?” you asked softly.

“Yes,” he confessed with tears in his eyes,”I want you to take care of me, please, baby.”

“Okay,” you nodded and you carefully cupped his face with both hands, locking eyes with him,”Okay.”

Aegon sighed in relief and gently placed his hands on your hips, pulling you to him. You shivered at his touch again.

“Can I hug you?” you asked.

“Yes,” Aegon breathed eagerly and he closed the distance between you both, pushing his body up against yours. You wrapped both arms around his neck and hugged him.

You’re not sure how long you stood there like that, Aegon’s hands caressing your back and his head resting on your shoulder as you just held him close to you, threading your fingers through his hair. 

He was breathing steadily now, calm and quiet, but after some time you could feel his heart starting to race against yours and his breathing gradually speeding up again. And then you felt something poking against your inner thigh. 

He was rock hard.

You didn’t say anything at first, not wanting to pull him out of this content haze he seemed to be in. Maybe it was just a physical reaction and he wasn’t even aware of it. You didn’t want him to feel embarrassed or self conscious about it. You had come in here to make him feel better and that was still your only goal.

But when he moved his hips against yours and let out a quiet whimper you couldn’t deny it any longer.

You leaned back to cup his cheek and look at him,”Aegs?”

“Hmm?”

“You alright?” you asked softly.

“Yeah, I’m…oh shit, I’m so sorry!” he stepped back from you when he realized what happened.

“It’s okay,” you kept your hands on his shoulders, not wanting him to pull away completely,”It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“No, it’s not okay, I’m making you so fucking uncomfortable, I’m so sorry, I’m such a fucking idiot, I can’t do anything right,” he was starting to spiral again and you quickly pulled him closer, cupping his neck and forcing him to look back at you.

“I’m okay, Aegs,” you repeated, looking deep into his eyes,”Hey, look at me, I’m okay, I promise you. I’m not uncomfortable.”

Aegon stared at you for a moment. “You’re not?” he then whispered.

You shook your head and smiled  at him,”No, in fact…”

You slowly moved your hand down, across his chest and then his stomach, watching his reaction to see if there was any objection from his side. But Aegon didn’t object, instead his lips opened in a deep sigh and his eyes closed in pure bliss when your hand followed his happy trail and your fingers gently wrapped around his cock. 

Aegon’s moan was the filthiest thing you’d ever heard and it went straight to your core. You started stroking him, slow and gentle.

“Fuck,” he moaned, followed by a quiet whimper of your name. 

He was big and throbbing in your hand already.

“Does this help make you feel better?” you asked, keeping your eyes locked with his as you continued pumping him, letting your thumb run over its leaking tip.

“Yes,” Aegon nodded firmly,”Oh god, fuck, yes…it’s been so long since…god, please don’t stop, don’t ever stop…”

His hands were caressing your back again, nails digging into your skin while he buried his head against your shoulder. His breath was coming out in quiet little whimpers, hot as fire against your wet skin.

“That’s it,” you encouraged him, slowly building up a rhythm as you jerked him closer and closer to his release.”Relax for me, baby, just give into it, let yourself feel good,” you whispered into his ear, your free hand caressing his hair again.

Aegon’s body was shaking, he was breathing so hard in between moaning and whimpering you couldn’t help but wonder when he last had someone touch him like this. 

He was crying out your name again, his teeth grazing your collarbone. “Please, please, please,” he whimpered,”I need to…fuck…”

You stroked him faster, bringing his cock in between your legs so you could rub your clit on its head and that was the final push Aegon needed. He came with a loud cry, spilling all over you, his cock nestled against your folds as you milked him for every last drop. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close while your body kept moving against his, involuntarily seeking friction.

You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing, feeling guilty now for your own needs because this was never about that. You had only wanted to make him feel good and nothing more. But your body was betraying you, turning you into a horny mess desperate for some relief of your own.

“Fuck,” you breathed,”I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to…”

“Shhh,” Aegon whispered, moving his hand in between your legs to play with your clit,”I got you.”

His eyes met yours, neither of you looking away as he started circling your swollen bud. It didn’t take him long to have you moaning his name and bucking up into his hand.

“You close, sweetheart?” he breathed.

“So close,” you nodded, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loud,”Please, Aegs.”

Aegon pushed you up against the shower wall, his fingers continuing to bring you towards that edge while his lips brushed your ear,”Come for me then, sweetheart, soak my fingers, come on, give it to me.”

It was all you needed. Aegon held you through every last wave of it, letting you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. You clung to his shoulders, keeping yourself steady. Your heavy whimpers turned into quiet little breaths as you relaxed in his arms.

“There you go, baby,” he whispered against your lips, a sweet smile emerging on his flushed face as he nuzzled your cheek,”There you go, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you breathed.

“Oh no, thank you,” he whispered,”God, I needed that, I needed that so bad.”

You could hear the emotion return to his voice as he hugged you tighter so you reciprocated, holding him close and burying your face into his neck.

“Can we just stay like for a while?” he begged softly,”Just…stay with me, please.”

You nodded, allowing yourself to disappear into his hug, not sure who needed it more in this moment, you or him.

When you eventually leaned back to look at him Aegon’s eyes were on you instantly.

“I meant it, you know,” he whispered,”Thank you. You didn’t have to do any of this. I don’t deserve…”

“You deserve to have everything you want in life, Aegon,” you interrupted him,”You deserve to be happy.”

His smile was the saddest one you had ever seen and he broke eye contact to shake his head,”I haven’t been happy in so long I don’t even remember what it feels like.”

You leaned into him, caressing his hair and his neck.

“But today was good,” he then smiled softly, meeting your eyes,”Being with you was…unexpected, like a beautiful ray of sunlight coming out on a really dark cloudy day.”

You couldn’t help but smile,”Look at you getting all poetic.”

Aegon laughed and it surprised you how much you loved the sound of it.

He pressed his forehead against yours and you were suddenly very aware of his breath on your lips. He hugged you closer.

“Could stay here forever,” he then whispered.

“Me too,” you confirmed.

Aegon closed the final distance between you both and pressed his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

“Stay the night with me,” he then pleaded.

You kissed him back and nodded with a smile,”On one condition though.”

“Name it.”

“You go out for a walk with me first, get that much needed fresh air.”

Aegon sighed but nodded his head,”Yeah, alright, you can drag me around town for hours if that’s what you want, as long as you come back here with me afterwards.”

“I will, I promise,” you whispered and pulled him close, your lips brushing his ear,”I won’t leave you, I promise, baby.”

You could feel his tears against your cheek, but they were accompanied by a big sigh of relief as Aegon buried his face into the crook of your neck and breathed you in.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Am I Acting Weird?

Part II

I've been jogging on this treadmill for over an hour now. Cardio sucks, and I hate this old unventilated gym! When I joined the football team, I did it for the parties and cheerleaders! I just wanted to drink with the cool guys and get laid. I still do, but I haven't had a drop of alcohol in weeks. I can't even remember the last girl I hooked up with!

I used to think it was weird that I was suddenly working out all the time. It was like my entire personality had changed overnight.

I know it's not weird now. Max, my younger brother, told me so. I have to keep working out until I become the quarterback of the football team. Then I have to bulk up and train even more, so I can become a professional footballer. That's my new goal in life, and I can't wait for my little bro to be able to brag about being related to a pro athlete.

Sure, I never really wanted to play football professionally. If it were up to me, I'd be out drinking with my buds, but it's not up to me.

That's not weird right?

I shake my head and slow my aching legs. Droplets of sweat run down my face as I work to control my breathing. My whole body is sore from the conditioning. It doesn't help that this is my third workout of the day. Between my morning weight session, afternoon field practice, and this, I am totally whipped.

I stagger over to grab my workout gear. My night isn't over. I still have to bulk my stomach up for tomorrow.

With a frustrated sigh, I stomp out of the gym and march directly into the diner next door. I nod to the greasy cook behind the counter. I've become a regular here, so he knows me pretty well.

"The usual?" he grunts with a toothy grin.

I nod and sink into a booth.

Max, my little brother, got tired of me eating at the house. Apparently, it took our father too long to cook my bulking meals. Max has me eat here after my workouts, and I completely agree. Max shouldn't have to share our dad with me. He deserved to have someone at home cooking whenever he wanted to eat.

"Four burgers, fries, and a soda," the cook snickers as he slaps the tray in front of me, "A growing boy needs extra protein."

I grimace and turn away from the chef. His breath alone is enough to make me lose my appetite, but I take a big bite and swallow. I won't gain mass if I'm not consuming mass, and I obviously need to get bigger.

I've broken out into a second sweat by the time I'm done. Forcing myself to up, I have to adjust to my bloated waist. You'd think I'd get used to a packed stomach, but I always feel uncomfortable for the rest of the night.

I let out a belch and carry the dirty dishes to the back. It always feels weird strolling into an employees-only area like this, but it's part of how I get my meals for free. You see, the cook let's is nice as long as I take care of two things.

The dishes are the first thing.

"Leave the dishes," I hear his husky voice behind me, "I never wash 'em anyways."

I drop the dishes and turn the sink off, holding my gut as it growls in pain. My belly might ache, but I've got one more thing to do.

The cook watches me expectantly. He licks his chapped lips, and grabs at the bulge under his apron, between his two trunks of legs. He's already fishing the thing out. I know what he wants, so I drop to the floor. This has become just another part of my daily routine.

It's how I thank the chef.

I don't know how this became a habit, because I absolutely do not enjoy it! The man is filthy, and a man! I'm not gay! I like women, but I have to eat a lot to bulk up and Max liked the idea of me eating for free. It's not weird!

I let him manhandle me a bit, gripping my head and pulling my hair. The cook gets off faster if he roughs me up a little. He usually only lasts a few minutes, but it's the longest few minutes of the day.

It's not sex. It's just a transaction!

"Oh, yeah!" he growls with his eyes squeezed shut, "Yeah, boy! Fuck!"

I whip my head off his hairy crotch and jump to my feet. I spit into a napkin and wipe my mouth quickly. I know from experience that I won't be able to get the taste of sweat and meat out of my mouth until I brush my teeth thoroughly at home.

My part is finally done here, so I just want to leave!

"Can't wait to see you tomorrow morning, jocky boy!" he laughs, but I've already stormed out, marching down the street to my house. I'm trying not to think about how I'll be seeing him in a few hours for breakfast.

"Hey dad," I mumble, stepping inside.

"Boy," he answers dismissively, not even looking up from his work. As usual, he's wearing his home uniform: a suit and white gloves. I have a similar outfit for when I'm hanging around the house, but dad gets a lot more use out of his now that I'm constantly bulking up. Max is really the only one who seems to dress casually around here anymore.

I guess that makes him the weird one.

"What are you doing?" I ask, trying to start up a conversation.

"What's it look like, boy?" he answers gruffly, "I'm cleaning up after Max and his guests. Now, either get your uniform on and help or get out of my way."

His attitude makes me cringe a bit. Dad and I used to be really tight. We used to bond over sports and craft beer, but he doesn't really care about anything besides Max anymore.

I don't think he's gone to any of my games for the last few months. He's always cooking or cleaning for Max. I wish I understood. We used to tease Max all the time together, but now he gets angry anytime I try and bond with him. Like, it's totally normal and right for Max to be his new favorite, but I wish we could still chat every now and then.

"Sorry," I mutter.

My father ignores me and heads off to the kitchen in a rush. He looks erratic, and I can tell he's just as exhausted as I am. He's made it a habit of working extra hours at the office everyday. It's so he can bring home the biggest paycheck he can earn every week, but I know is affecting his sleep.

"Where is Max?" I ask.

My dad frowns, tersely responding, "Max took his guests to a movie in my car. The house needs to be clean and snacks need to be ready for when Max gets back."

"Oh," I sigh, "Are his friends staying over again? I'd stay up with you and help serve them, but Max said I should be getting nine hours of sleep every night."

"Go to bed, boy. I'll handle it," he states firmly, putting the final touches on the silver platter.

With that, my father picks up the tray of assorted snacks and walks them out into the living room. There he takes his place by the door and stands in his usual position. It's where he normally waits to welcome Max home everyday. Father and I know that someone like Max shouldn't have to put their own coat away or take off their own shoes.

"Alright, dad, see you tomorrow."

He doesn't answer. He's already standing still as a statue and probably won't move until Max gets back. Hopefully, my little brother won't keep him up too late.

Sleep won't be hard for me to find. I can barely keep my eyes open, and I pass out as soon as I fall on my bed. The rest of the night is a deep and dreamless void, while my stomach processes all the food I ate.

When I wake up, I find dad like this...

"Dad? Dad!" I give his shoulder a nudge.

He jumps to life, jerking his eyes around the trashed living room.

"Did you fall asleep standing up?"

"Maybe," he answers with shock, "Max had me holding everyone's coats while they enjoyed some beer. They must have moved to the bed while I drifted off."

"Aren't they a little young for beer?"

"Max and his guests are welcome to my alcohol whenever they want it!" he snaps back at me.

"Geez, ok."

"You have a workout you need to get to, boy," he barks, "And I'm going to have to hurry if I'm going to clean up this mess before work."

I stare at my father as he scrambles to clean up the living room once again. He looks even more exhausted and disheveled than last night. Hopefully, he would be able to clean everything up with enough time to shower and shave. I know that all of the household stuff is his responsibility, but sometimes it seems like too much.

With a shrug, I turn and step out of the door. My day is going to be the same miserable routine as the last. I'm not looking forward to any of it, but that's not weird. Like Max said, I'll just keep my head down, and power through.

[backtothefanfiction]

The Dishwasher | tasm!peter imagine

Summery: sure he dresses up in a costume and goes and fights crime in the city, but god forbid your boyfriend actually loads the dishwasher.

A/N: there has been a lot of rage in our house over dishwashers and clean dishes lately.

“PETER PARKER!!! I SWEAR TO GOD, I AM GOING TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FUCKING FACE!”

“What have I done now.” He innocently says as he comes to stand in the kitchen doorway. He’s already in his suit, his mask scrunched up in his hand.

“Uh uh. No.” You say, stepping forward to meet him, a face like thunder. “You have one job,” you say holding your finger up to him, “ONE JOB! In this house. I cook you dinner. I do your laundry for you. I clean the bathroom. Hoover the -entire- apartment. And all I ask in return is for you to do THE FUCKING DISHES BEFORE YOU GO OUT- IN YOUR STUPID SUIT-“

“It’s not stupid-“ he throws out but you cut him off and continue to talk over him.

“It’s one job Peter. ONE JOB. We even got you a fucking dishwasher so you wouldn’t have to spend ages washing up by hand and could go out on patrol sooner. I mean- COME ON!”

“Fine. FINE! I’ll do it!” He says, hands up placating you, just wishing you’d stop shouting at him.

You barely move as he gingerly steps around you, placing his mask on the kitchen side as he begins to reach for the days worth of dirty dishes stacked in the sink.

“Oh my god.” You sigh, your hands flying into your hair exasperatedly. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m loading the dishwasher.” He groans, annoyed at your micro managing.

“Peter, glasses do not go on the bottom!” He grumbles as he begins to move the glass onto the top rack instead. “When you put the glasses on the bottom, all the left over little bits of food on the plates end up sticking to the glasses and they don’t actually get clean.”

“Alright.” He huffs.

You watch as he then reaches for a small saucepan, also placing it onto the top tray. “Woah woah woah! What are you doing?!? Pans go on the bottom. Fuck Pete, no wonder half the glasses and bowls in the cupboard have crap dried to them. Did no one ever teach you how to load a dishwasher properly?”

“No, Aunt May always did the-“

“Nope. Nah uh. Don’t tell me you actually let that saint of a woman do everything for you when you have been more than capable to help out since you were 12 years old.”

He shied away from you guiltily. “She insisted.” He shrugged.

“No. No. That poor woman. Come here. Let me show you how to load a dishwasher properly so that you can do it every time we have dinner at her house for the rest of her life.”

You wish you could say that that was the very last time you nagged Peter about the dishwasher or how he loaded it. But unfortunately things with that man were never that simple. But no matter how hard he struggled with the simple task in his own home, he at least did do it at Aunt May’s house whenever you ate there, for the rest of her life.

[sorrowfulrosebud]

The Lone Wolf (again…)

Wolf! Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Contents: in which Wolf! Katsuki royally fucks up

Genre: extreme angst

CW: this is a very dark fanfic so I can’t really put the tws without spoiling the story. I’ll try my best anyway. TWS for blood, neglect, death and etc.

This is for @vampyrsm s collaboration! I’m sorry it took so long but it’s finally here! It can also be considered an alternative AU for my papa wolf series and can be read as a stand-alone piece.

“I’m leaving you”.

These were the words that made you stop scrubbing the dishes in the basin as the muscular frame of your mate stood unbreakably behind you. Your brows furrowed at the proclamation, wondering where the hell it had come from.

You had had a slight idea that he was unhappy, being more growly and quick to trigger than usual, but you had just assumed that he was nearing his rut again. Determined to see what he had to say, you stood your ground and remained facing the stone basin. The slight trembling in your hand informed Bakugou that you had indeed heard what he had sprung on you and took your silence as a means of continuing his speech.

“I’m getting soft and weak, for god’s sake. I’m a wolf, not some sort of damn domesticated house pet that you can play with whenever you feel like it. I can feel it that staying here is making me lose my edge, and what kind of wolf would stay with some sort of weak little human like you, huh? The very idea would have you slaughtered in my pack for acting like a domesticated pet,” Bakugou spat. The way he borderline snarled the word made it seem like it was some sort of dirty slur.

But I suppose, when you are forcefully ripped from one lifestyle and thrown into another, you’re bound to feel shaken up. That’s the strange thing though. The last year and a half of your life after meeting him was the best time of your life, and judging from the endless belly rubs, walks in the woods and helping him through his ruts, you were certain he had the same feelings for you as you did him.

==================================

The way you had met was less than conventional; when checking your rabbit traps and snares in the forest, you had found Bakugou muzzled, naked and chained by a collar to one of the thickest trees with a huge gaping wound slicing his Achille’s tendon to prevent him from running away. (Not that he could have to begin with. You figured that it was to add insult to quite literal injuries).

As a twig snapped under your hunting boots, the thrashing of the chain ceased as carmine eyes pored into yours. You were mesmerised by how a well-sculpted man could seem so animalistic until you were able properly see the well hidden ash blonde ears tucked in with the rest of his hair and with a quick swish, you were also notified of a fluffy tail being raised on alert. A sharp snarl pierced the air as Bakugou tried lunging at you, secretly dying internally from the horrible humiliation of someone from the species he’s mortal enemies with seeing him in such a disgusting manner.

In Bakugou’s pack (as he explained to you), being even remotely associated with humans would mean that you were the lowest of the low; a domesticated dog who would do cheap tricks for their master. Bakugou had been found sneaking off to the local human village to observe how humans function as a society, to study what they eat, how they take care of their young and how they farm crops. The leaders of the pack (his parents) decided that the punishment should fit the crime:

First, the traitor would be stripped naked as a symbol of stripping their morals for the enemy

Next, the heels would be sliced open to prevent any further disloyalty to the traitor’s new master by running away after the disloyalty for the pack was displayed

Then the traitor would be muzzled since it is a reflection of the biggest rule in the pack: NEVER SPEAK TO A HUMAN

The most humiliating thing was next. The traitor would be collared and leashed to a tree in hunter territory since acting like a pet means that you get treated like a pet, much like a dog being chained to a kennel. If the traitor loves humans so much, they can see how much they enjoy being skinned for their fur and having their teeth torn out for jewellery.

Eager to help the handsome stranger that you found, you raised your arms in peace and ambled slowly in front of him. You were EXTREMELY aware of his claws so you sat a good three feet away. Bakugou couldn’t deny that he was intrigued by your actions; he was still highly on guard but most hunters would have raced away for a spear or bow and arrow to put him out of his misery. With a small smile, you had introduced yourself to him to try to establish some sort of relationship, only to be met with an annoyed growl and chuff of his breath. In an instant you totally remembered that he was naked and rootled through your bag for a spare pair of hunting trousers that you carried. Your soft hands held them out to Bakugou to see if he wanted them instead of sitting there with his whole body on show.

Bakugou made no move to grab them from you, thinking that you had doused them in chloroform or some other drug that would seduce him to sleep. Instead, he just glared at you with intense eyes. The yanking on the chain had stopped completely as he studied you ferociously.

“Go on, you can take them! I can’t guarantee that they’ll fit you but I’m sure it’s better than sitting out here naked and covered in your own blood,” you offered with a gentle smile. Katsuki glowered at you as you set them down for him and turned your back so he could change himself.

Internally, Katsuki was in two minds; accept the clothes and kill you at any point in time if you threatened him, or sit here bound and helpless for god knows how long…

Katsuki growled as the fabric temporarily dug into his bleeding heels. He eventually managed to shimmy them up his legs, toned calves strained against the fabric due to their size.

“Are you done? Can I turn around right now?” You asked him politely. Katsuki let out an annoyed growl at your question, but you took it as a yes. You turned back around, borderline chuckling at the size of your trousers on Katsuki’s lower half before immediately being shut up with an angered glare.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Now you’re going to have to stay still whilst I-” you fumbled in your pocket for a knife, the silver blade glinting in the sun.

You only just managed to avoid the swiping of claws against your skin as Katsuki lunged for you, hackles raised and sandy ears pulled taunt against his head. Your fingertips pressed against the wound and you audibly winced at the amount of blood; even though he nicked you, there was still 4 big slits in the side of your tunic.

“Fuck, shit that hurts! What the actual fucking hell, asshole?!” You yelled at him, “I was going to unlock the muzzle around your mouth!”

Katsuki still growls, but his ears go back to normal. His entire body feels so… sluggish.

“Woah, hey are you okay?” Your face donned a worried look as the adrenaline of his night finally floated away from him and he slumped unceremoniously at your legs.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The pops and crackling of the toasty fire surrounded Katsuki’s senses as he finally started the descent out of sleep. He had no fucking clue where he was; there were certainly no soft couches back in his cave, nor were there little carved woodworks of various woodland creatures.

A soft humming could be heard from what Katsuki would assume to have been the kitchen. You entered Katsuki’s eyesight with a carefully balanced tray of stew (lamb by the small of it), and placed it carefully on the oak coffee table next to your plush couch. Katsuki shot up from the couch, snarl in his throat, ears all the way back and hackles raised as you raised your hands once again.

“Hey, relax, please! I’m not going to do anything, I swear! I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. You passed out on me in the woods, so I took you back to my house to clean your wounds and feed you,” you lowered your hands to your waist and looked at Katsuki for his reaction. His ears slowly went back to their original position, the glint from his fangs could still be seen. His breathing was harsh, toned pecs heaving in his fear rage.

He slowly reached for the bowl of stew before sniffing it.

Well, it doesn’t smell poisoned. He thought. Might as well eat some, I’m fucking starving.

He tucked in with hesitation, but as soon as the first bite of juicy lamb hit his tongue, the bowl was next to empty. You stood dazed at how fast he consumed the bowl before offering your hand out to him. Katsuki immediately shrank back on the couch.

“Woah, I just wanted to know if you wanted seconds? You’re obviously hungry and there’s plenty more in the pot if you want some,” you spoke gently to him, almost like he was a pup, or a wild animal. Katsuki clearly thought for a second before shoving the bowl in your chest with an annoyed huff. You smiled at him widely before trotting back into the kitchen.

It suddenly dawned on him that he didn’t have any extra heaviness from that damned collar on his neck, and upon further inspection, you actually had stitched up the gaping wounds on his ankles. He still wore the trousers you had gifted him, so he was at least quietly grateful that you granted him privacy.

Well. This is going to be one hell of a summer.

=================================

“Katsuki, what the hell do you mean? You’re leaving?? When did you decide this?!” You turned around to face him properly and were instantly met with an annoyed expression.

“It doesn’t matter when I decided it, I’m fucking leaving and there’s nothing you can do about it!” He snarled at you. Deep inside, he loved you more than anything he could ever think of. He wanted to be your mate for his entire life, to wake up with you every morning and maybe if you would let him, indulge in his fantasy of having a few pups of your own. Alas, he had heard rumours around the village about a group of werewolves terrorising the local village’s cattle and he desperately wanted to see his old pack again.

“But Katsuki, please think about it! Where would you go?! You know that if your old pack were to see you again, they are more likely inclined to kill you!” You shouted at him, face crumpled up in tears.

“No they fucking wouldn’t, my pack respected and adored me! I just put my own personal interests before the safety of my pack, and that got me landed here in this shitty fucking cabin with you. A filthy human who would probably sell me to a hunter the minute I started acting like a true wolf,” he snapped back, his eyes dilating to pin pricks in his anger. Your own eyes glared back at him with tears delicately lacing your lash line.

“They. Fucking. Left. You. For. Dead. You went against your pack, and your PARENTS of all fucking people decided that they would slice their own fucking SON and LEAVE HIM FOR DEAD! I have done nothing but take care of you, through each of your ruts, each full moon, I EVEN FUCKING NURSED YOU BACK TO HEALTH.

DAY AND FUCKING NIGHT, I WAS AT YOUR SIDE HELPING YOU TO WALK AGAIN! EVERY INJURY YOU EVER HAD, I WAS THERE TO CLEAN UP AND KISS. SO DON’T YOU EVER FUCKING DARE SAY THAT I’M JUST SOME STUPID FUCKING HUMAN WHEN I WAS MORE OF A PACK TO YOU THAN YOUR OWN FAMILY!” The words were spewing like venom at this point, you couldn’t fucking breath and the tears were pouring down your face thick and fast. In an instant, Katsuki had a death grip on your wrist, carmine eyes reduced to slits and his ears were flat against his head.

“Don’t. You. Ever. Disrespect my fucking pack again. Y’know, my pack was right. Humans do nothing but brainwash you into domestic shit. This was a mistake from the start,” he spat maliciously. His claws were digging deep into your wrist, making your face screw up in pain.

“K-Katsuki, let go! You’re hurting me!” You sobbed as you tried to pry him off. It wasn’t until the smell of blood hit his nose that Katsuki realised that he had actually hurt you. With a cry of pain, you clutched your bleeding wrist to your chest. The red stained your shirt a violent colour.

Katsuki could feel his rage ebb away and was slowly being replaced by worry.

“Woah, hey are you ok-“ he tries before you flinch away from him, hitting your back against the sink behind you in an attempt to get away. Your whimpers physically hurt him in ways he never knew existed.

“Hey, don’t push me away! I’m trying to see-“ he tries again before you finally turn to him and his heart breaks further at your teary face.

This was such a stupid fucking thought, he was so fucking stupid, why the hell would he leave you for his old pack?! Katsuki finally reflected on your words before his blood felt like ice. Why would he say such awful things to you to try to prove to an old pack who left him for dead?!

“Baby, please, I want to help,” he borderline whimpers, ears twitching dolefully. Your face screwed up in anger before you stood at your full height.

“You want to leave you fucking bastard, then leave. I’m not going to fucking stop you. I hope your pack was fucking worth the one person who stuck with you these last few years. Now, get the fuck out of my house.” You snarled lowly, eyebrows furrowed in pain. Katsuki reached out for you with a trembling hand before you started borderline shrieking.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I CALL THE DAMNED HUNTERS TO SKIN YOU ALIVE!”

Katsuki had never felt so low in his entire life. You started swaying in your rage, trying to shoo him away. He let out a whimper as he looked at you one last time before fleeing out of the house, your screams of pain and fear ringing in his head.

==================================

1 year later…

Katsuki was miserable. Utterly, and purely miserable. He had found his old pack, and for a moment that had hope flutter through his stomach. Until of course, as you predicted, they tried to kill him for his betrayal (and the fact that he still stank of human).

Slurs of “pet” could be heard through the snarls as Katsuki had narrowly avoided claws and fangs, before tumbling down a hill and running for his life. It was against his morals to do so but he couldn’t face losing another family.

For the past year, Katsuki had tried making his own way of life; finding a small cave further into the mountain range near your cabin and stealing from the local village for meats and blankets. He made his own new home, but it didn’t feel the same without you whatsoever.

He missed you. He missed your sleepy smiles, he missed your stupid little jokes, he missed kissing you awake on Sunday mornings, he missed… you. Every night, his hands loosen the thick red collar you had given him as a joke and thumbed it carefully. Trembling hands caress the leather as small tear stains plop onto it and whimpers reverberate around his cave. It may have started as a joke, but he never took it off even after you threw him out, only to lament painfully on his regret. Most nights he substituted your soft body for his tail, clinging on to it until it hurt.

He hadn’t seen you for a year. 365 days without your cuddles, belly rubs, gentle kisses and warm smiles. Katsuki could feel himself going mad, so he made a decision.

He was going to apologise.

==================================

Katsuki checked his appearance in a puddle that had accumulated in his cave; his hair was somewhat kept better, his ears and tail were freshly groomed and he held a large bouquet of wild flowers he found in a field.

Katsuki let out a shaky breath before hardening his face.

“I just have to show her how much she really means to me. I can’t- I can’t be without her.”

And so he began the trek to your cabin.

==================================

He began to walk at dusk; it gave him a cloak of protection from hunters, plus you would be really surprised. It only took him about half an hour to find your cabin tucked snugly in the back of the woods. But the sight before him made his blood feel like ice.

The door was absolutely shredded. Large claw marks had sliced the door to oblivion, as well as the surrounding walls. Even though it was almost as thick as the trees that the wood came from, it was nearly folded in half and torn off its hinges.

Bile raised in his throat. As did his hackles.

“(Y/N?)” he tried anxiously.

No answer. However, he detected a new smell.

Blood.

He crept behind the door, immediately on high alert. Whatever did this was not fucking human.

His heart lurched dramatically at the state of your home; all of your belongings were either torn to shreds or thrown across your floors. Carpets were torn up, pillows shredded, curtains torn from their windows.

“(Y/N)! I’m not fucking joking, if you’re there then say something!” He yelled through the house. Fluffy ears twitched intensely, desperate to hear some call of validation. He was frightened absolutely shitless. The only other time he had felt so afraid was the day he lost you.

Creak…

Katsuki pinpointed the noise to upstairs. All survival instincts flew out of the window as he bolted up the stairs, only thing on his mind was to ensure your safety. He nearly fell down a few steps before reaching what was your shared bedroom.

The bile actually came out.

Your bedroom door was identical to the one downstairs; torn to shreds and laid in pieces on the ground. The soft blankets that laid on your bed had gigantic claw marks slicing through them, all the way down to your thick mattress.

Again, your curtains were brutally ripped off the window. The window itself had been smashed, shiny fragments glittering across the entirety of the room. Katsuki stepped lightly on the floor, the smell of blood poisoning his sensitive nostrils.

It was the strongest in your bedroom and-

“Oh my fucking god, no.”

Strewn like a rag doll, mangled on the floor in an inhumane position was

you.

The exact same slices on your door were buried deep into your stomach and neck. Thick, red torrents of blood seeped from your body and deep into the wooden floor. Your eyes had completely glazed over, staring back at him with gray.

Tears had crept down your face in your last few moments; Katsuki could smell the salt on your face.

“B-baby? Oh my fucking god, please no!” He screamed brokenly into your corpse. His tears dampened the dress you were wearing (the same one you wore when he tore your heart from its chest). All Katsuki could do was scream in pure, unfiltered pain at the loss of his love.

Memories of you both flittered through Katsuki’s mind. Mornings where the sunlight trickled into your bedroom as he studied your face sleepily. Memories of the sweet and shy kisses, of lazy summer days, of comfort from agonising nightmares all cursed Katsuki as he mourned your death.

He truly had nothing now. No family. No friends. No you.

So, Katsuki did the only thing his paralysed mind could think of; the same claws that scarred your wrist brought hell down on his neck, his claws shredding his gullet within seconds.

Katsuki coughed, once, twice before the metallic tang of blood seeped into his mouth and seeped down his face in buckets. Not that he could see before due to the tears in his eyes, but the quickening of the blood down his body reduced his vision greatly, black spots already swimming in and out of his peripheral.

He only managed to sink down beside you, wanting his last dying moments to be beside the very person that made him happy. The very person who changed his life. The very person who’s life he had ruined.

Through the tears, Katsuki nestled his head close to you, tears dripping on to your wounds as he found it increasingly difficult to breath. He gasped unconsciously for breath as he tried to grip on to you, feeling scared of his descent into death. As long as you were there, he would follow you and plead for forgiveness.

He started to feel content.

‘I- I’m so sorry. I’m coming,’ he thought. His face rested on your shoulder as his body started to shut down completely.

But it wasn’t until his final breath did his eyes shoot open one last time at the sound of the four small whimpers across the room.

“D-daddy?”

[doc-pickles]

sent to save me | sidney crosby (ch. 1)

series masterlist

summary: sid meets nikita’s best friend and runs into a ghost from the past

warnings: none! :)

author’s note: hello! sooooooooo I have probably a million other things to do/write but this came to me and I knew I needed to write it. this is going to be a series and will probably be a lot angstier than my vegas series. I have some ideas for what’s going to happen and I can’t wait to share them with y’all!! anyways I hope yall enjoy this!

xoxo

nina

(ps - title is from ‘always been you’ by shawn mendes)

It starts off innocently enough. He’s at Geno’s for dinner like he does once a week. Nikita is babbling away next to him about everything he’s learning in first grade.

“And Mrs. Riley is super nice and I get to sit next to Vivie who always shares her fruit snacks,” Nikita says all of this at a speed that Sid can barely comprehend but he simply nods at his godson.

“Always with Vivie,” Anna coos as she ruffles Nikita’s hair, her other hand coming to rest against her swollen belly. “Attached at the leg you two.”

Sid chuckles and gently corrects Anya which has her rolling her eyes as she squeezes his arm. Being with his best friend and his family made going home to an empty house hard, but Sid knew he wouldn’t trade his weekly dinners at the Malkin house for anything.

“Vivie is my best friend in the whole world,” Niki rambles on as he runs out of the room. He comes back with a picture frame and shows it proudly to Sid. “This is us at science camp over the summer.”

Sid’s brows furrow as soon as he looks at the photo. The little girl with her arm wrapped around Nikita is a bit shorter than him, dirty blonde hair pulled back into braids. Her big brown eyes are staring up at the camera, upturned nose and gap toothed grin framed with freckles and a set of dimples. Sid stares at the photo for probably a bit too long, the little girl looking somehow familiar even though he knows he’s never met her.

“Nice picture Niki,” Sid smiles when he finally tears his eyes away from the frame. Anya is watching him carefully but doesn’t say anything as Nikita begins talking about how much he loves math.

The rest of the night is uneventful, Geno’s steak and potatoes going over well with everyone at the table. If he and Anya notice that Sid is quieter than usual they don’t say anything to him. It’s not until he’s playing outside with Nikita after dinner that Sid catches his friends whispering to each other as they wash dishes.

When he gets home later Sidney doesn’t even take his shoes off before he’s walking down the hallway to his study. The photo album is tucked into the farthest bookshelf, the dark leather binding helping it to blend in. But he knows exactly where it is, exactly what it feels like in his hands. He pulls it off the shelf and holds it for a moment before opening it to the first page.

‘To Sidney, the love of my life. Happy anniversary babe!

xoxo A’

The handwriting is loopy and decidedly womanly. He traces his fingers over the words reverently before flipping the page. Sid’s breath hitches as his eyes lock on the photo there. Blonde hair, shining green eyes, and a dimpled smile so wide he still sees it every once in a while when he closes his eyes.

There’s a part of him that wants so badly to flip through every page, to take in the smiling woman on the pages and the version of himself that seems to have faded without her. Instead he closes the photo book, shelving it again before he goes out to the living room and pours himself a glass of scotch.

“Why the hell am I still here if you can’t make me a priority Sidney?”

“I’m trying! Don’t you see that? But I also have a team to think about, a whole fucking franchise riding on my shoulders! Don’t they matter too?”

The night and all of his regrets replayed in Sid’s head often. Annie’s tear soaked face, the words they both carelessly yelled at each other. His front door slamming, her things gone from his house by the time he came back from his next road trip.

He’d wanted Annie and hockey, wanted her to see that he was trying to make them both a priority but it hadn’t been enough for her. He hadn’t been enough for her.

And in the end none of it had mattered because three weeks after their argument Sid had shattered his knee in what would be his last game as a Penguin.

Yeah he missed hockey, but he missed Annie Wright more than anything else.

+

A week later Anna’s water breaks in the middle of the night. Sidney drives over and crashes on Geno’s couch as they head to the hospital together. When he wakes up Nikita is poking his cheek with a frown.

“Hey bud,” Sid yawns as he wipes a hand over his face. “Your mom and dad went to the hospital, looks like you’re gonna be a big brother soon.”

Nikita seems wholly unimpressed as he looks at his godfather, “Can we get McDonald’s breakfast before school?”

And because he’s a sucker for Niki, Sid agrees.

By the time they’re pulling up to Nikita’s school Sid is more awake, parking and following Niki up the path to his classroom.

“I’ll pick you up later too bud,” Sid tells him as he ruffles his hair. “Then maybe we can go see your little sister.”

“Nikita!”

Both Sidney and Nikita whip around at the excited voice, watching as a little girl runs up to them. Sid immediately clocks her as Vivie from the picture Nikita showed him. She’s sporting white overalls and a pink sweater, her blonde curls bouncing around in the pigtails fastened high on her head.

Vivie hugs Niki tightly then blinks up at Sid and he swears the air just got much thinner because he can’t pull in a full breath, not when he feels like he’s looking in a god damn mirror. Vivie has the same big hazel eyes as him, the same jutting chin and furrowed brows. But her smile and those dimples… Those remind Sidney of someone else.

“Vivie! You left your lunchbox in the car,” the voice that haunts his dreams is suddenly right behind Sid and before he can think better of it he turns around.

Annie looks much the same as she did eight years ago, her heart shaped face and wide green eyes exactly how he remembered them. Her blonde hair is shorter, resting just above her shoulders now. There’s something else Sid can’t quite put his finger on but he thinks that Annie doesn’t hold that same infectious joy she used to.

“Oh my god,” Annie breathes the words out slowly as she makes eye contact with Sidney. “I- Oh my god…”

“Miss Annie, this is my Uncle Sid,” Nikita explains excitedly. “My mommy is having a baby so Uncle Sid got me McDonald’s and took me to school!”

Annie schools her features as she tears her gaze away from Sid and pastes on a smile for Nikita, “That’s so exciting! I’m sure you’re excited to be a big brother.”

The school bell rings then and Vivie and Nikita waste no time hastily saying goodbye before running off hand in hand. When they’re out of sight Sidney turns to Annie who’s white as a sheet as she stares at her shoes.

“Annie,” the word is low and laced with hurt as Sid focuses on the woman he used to love. “Annie please tell me you didn’t… That she’s not…”

Sidney can’t bring himself to say the words out loud, even though he’s almost positive they’re true. Vivie’s face is ingrained in his mind now, showing up every time he blinks. His eyes, Annie’s smile… He stares at Annie and begs her to tell him anything but what he knows is true.

Please don’t tell me you had our daughter and kept it from me. Please don’t tell me I’ve missed seven years of her life. Please don’t tell me that perfect little girl has been so close and so far. Please. Please. Please.

“Sidney, I am so sorry.”

[bae04xx]

Heyyy I just saw it post and like I couldn't resist sending in an ask (or request if you will)!! If you want to could you write a bill cipher (yes ik💀) x reader where he and the reader are dating but get into an argument and he just says/does sum really mean stuff?? Fluff ending tho please I can't take only angst lmao, for the reader i would pref a Fem reader but gn is fine to!! Also for bill could he be in his triangle form?? (I'm so sorry if this is a long ask💀💀) but yeah that's it!!

One last thing if you don't mind could I be the 😻 anon so like if I send a ask/message I will add that and yk its me!!

-😻

hey ofc, sorry don’t check my tumblr that often! i would love to :)

thanks 😻 anon :)

bill cipher x fem! reader

angst and fluff 🖤☁️

i grabbed my bags out of my car boot, harshly gripping them between my fingers, which the knuckles of began to loose their colour from the chill in the air. after shutting the car doors and locking it up i begin storming down the pebbled drive towards my little cottage of a home. i sigh as i drop my bags and twist the key into the lock. i walk into the warmth of my house- silence greets me. after a full day at work, a very busy day might i add, then running about 5 errands i expect my home to be as i left it, cleaned to perfection. my eyes squint at the crumbs left all over hallway’s floor, i walk through them and set my bags onto the kitchen’s table- only to see condiments and dirty dishes scattered on the counters.

i quickly put my food shopping away, then hastily clean the house top to bottom, from hoovering to polishing to mopping to cleaning all of his dirty clothes because god forbid he contribute anything to this house and take any weight off my already drowning shoulders. i bury my face into my hands and curl up on my sofa, after sitting like this for a few minutes i decide to sit up and distract myself, flipping through a few tv channels to find a decent one.

i wonder why i’m even here, i was only meant to be in gravity falls temporarily, after my mother decided i was too much for her, she shipped me off to live with my aunt for the summer- aunty suz, or as the locals called her, lazy suzan. she ran a diner, which i helped out with as my keep, and there i met the twins. i felt like mable understood me, she really helped me deal with my mental health and overcome it all. she was my bestfriend- until i fell for him. i made the stupid mistake of choosing bill cipher, a living breathing demon, over my bestfriend. and now i’m stuck in this hell hole- gravity falls.

“loving boyfriend my ass..” i mumbled, throwing the tv remote to the ground in frustration.

“what about me were you saying, peach?” he smirks, materialising out of no where, with a snarky expression.

“what the fuck have you been doing all day cipher? i work my ass off and i come home to the house a state?” i plead, standing up to be someone as tall as the floating figure.

“woah woah woah, don’t be so aggressive peach, calm it and remember who you’re speaking to,” he warns, i laugh at him.

“i do everything for you cipher, i have up my life for you and this is the thanks i get? no support, messing with my home and threats? i have every right to be angry at you, you always do this!”

“do what exactly, peach?” his eyes narrow at me, staring me down.

“fuck me over! you expect to be fed, even though you don’t need to eat and can make anything you want appear but no- i have to supply it for you, to clean in a clean house but it’s fine for you to constantly mess it up, and to leave for days at a time with no warning and then just appear back and expect me to be fine? and treat me like shit!”

“i can do whatever the fuck i want peach, whatever i want-“ he grabs me by the chin, “you listen to me, you’re a puppet in my hands, you’re lucky i’m even giving the time of day. you’re only around because i like you, and you’re so lucky i like you because do you wanna know what would happen if i didn’t?”

…

“you’d be dead, rotting your own personal hell. so show me a little respect? don’t forget your place.”

i push myself away from him, i regretfully look in my eyes, i don’t know what to do, so i just stand there, scared, confused, anxious yet angry.

“i’m going, don’t try and get in my head, i don’t want you there.” i announce, before storming off and grabbing my handbag.

“i’ll never get out of your head, you belong to me remember, you’re nothing without me.” he announced, as though he’s just next to me but he isn’t. i’m in the car, applying as much pressure to the accelerator as i can- and he’s no where near me. he’s in my fucking head again. i have no space, no boundaries, i’m not just me, i’m him too- and i have no choice. i can’t escape.

i break as hard as i can, in the middle of a road, no cars were within a mile radius of me, perks of living i. a quiet town. i scream, a blood curdling scream, my nails clawing into my h/c, tears stream out of my eyes. sobbing uncontrollably i feel an arm snake around me, pulling me close.

he’s shushing me, trying to calm me down as a shriek and cry into his chest, not sure if i should push him away or accept him embrace. his boney hands stroke my h/c and instantly calms me, not by my choice though- the bastard is in my head again.

“i’ve given everything for you bill.” i state, wiping my tears away, a dead look in my eyes.

“i’m sorry peach,” he hugs me tightly, “i know i’m shitty, but i’m so sorry.”

and he just holds me, let’s me stay in his arms, i focus on my breathing, as he plays with my hair, he whispers a small ‘i love you’ in my ear, i hum back to him, too exhausted to process what’s really happened.

i wake up in my bed, changed into my favourite fleecy pyjamas, a very worried demon next to me.

i yawn, stretching my arms up, turning to him i say “and how did i get here?” my voice a little gruff from sleepiness.

“you don’t think i was going to let you sleep in the car do you? what kinda demon do you think i am?” he replied in his usually snarky yet flirtatious voice.

“ah yes sorry, you’re such the gentleman- how could i forget,” i giggle back at him before rolling away to the other side of the bed.

“i really am sorry y/n, i’m gonna try more, for you peach,”

“i love you bill,”

“i love you more peach,”

a comfortable silence surrounds us, i sigh before deciding to get up, yet just as a i begin to take the duvet off me i get it pulled start back on.

“what’re you thinking for breakfast peach? my treat, you just stay snuggled up in bed,”

“i bought some croissants yesterday, they’re in the cupboard,” i muse, before grabbing my book off the bedside table. bill let’s out a laugh.

“my treat, you just wait and see what i’ve got planned peach!”