#no one can stop me from writing about my messy bitches

[a-very-fond-farewell]

fuck my tendinitis it’s writing time peeps and imma type like this despite the pain

[unnamed-atlas]

Finally finished sweet tooth s3. Having incredibly mixed feelings

[rueclfer]

Fake Dating // Bakugou

a/n: hi all, i am back from the dead with this shit that took me DAYS to finish bc my brain is def not used to writing anymore. pls enjoy and maybe keep a look out for PART 2 if people want it !

You stare at your phone in disbelief. The audacity he had to tell you where to go, how to dress, and to essentially perform in front of everyone for him. Of course this was a mutually beneficial agreement, but at least you only dragged him along to your family functions sparingly.

You two had come to this agreement early last Winter when family members kept pestering you about potentially finding a love interest at your new University, and for him when he couldn't shake off all of the romantic confessions from the students in the other classes.

No one else knew about your arrangement. What made it so much more unbearable was the fact that you shared the same cohort and friend group, so it was a constant facade whenever you're in each other's presence with the others around.

You felt a bit awkward coming to the party alone, and a few hours late. You could hear the bass thumping through the door from the front yard, and from the looks of it, there were far more people than you expected, but on the bright side, it'll be easier to be invisible within the crowd than have to hold up this facade all night.

You approached the front to see Jirou catching a breath of fresh air. She had a drink in one hand and her other interlocked with Momo's

"Are you guys already tapping out?" You asked, taking the steps up the porch.

"Y/N!! For a second I thought you weren't going to make it!" Jirou says, releasing Momo from her grasp and giving you a big hug. "I'm so happy you're here."

"Can't blame me for always being fashionably late” You embrace her back.

"Better now than never." She drunkenly chuckles “Bakugo’s been a moody bitch all night please go contain him”

“Are we surprised?” You roll your eyes and laugh. “Where are you two off to?”

"I'm gonna take Momo out for some air and to maybe vomit, but go inside and I'll find you later!"

“I love you Y/N!! Take a shot for me!!” Momo slurs and blows you a kiss as Jirou drags her away.

"I love you too, Mo! I'll catch you guys inside."

Once you stepped foot inside, it felt like the air from your lungs were instantly replaced with the thick fog of weed and cigarette smoke. It was suffocating, but all too familiar at the same time. You recognized many of the faces around from campus, but none of which were your close friends.

Before anything else, you decided to stop by the kitchen to pour yourself something to drink. To be honest, you weren't picky with your liquor. As long as it did its job, you weren't going to complain. You grabbed a red solo cup off of the stack and poured in a shot and some change worth of cheap vodka.

Mina has to have some red bull somewhere around here…

You quickly down it and refill another cup to carry around while you look for your ball and chain, Katsuki. You wander around the crowd for a few moments, waiting for someone you knew to catch your attention, but no one did. You decide to take a break to lean against a wall and to send Katsuki a text to see where he was hiding. Before you could even get your phone unlocked, you received a notification from him.

After he sent the last message, you looked up and searched for his meeting eyes. He said he was looking right at you, but for some reason you couldn't find those fiery eyes.

“Looking for someone?” A low voice breaks you from your search.

You turn to see Katsuki leaning up against the wall right beside you, almost shoulder to shoulder.

“Hmmm yeah I am, actually. Have you seen my boyfriend?” You turn to him fully. “He’s tall, messy blonde hair, kind of has a stupid look to his face, really hot though, trust me, and also like a medium build?”

You catch a glimpse of the smallest smirk on his face.

“Yeah? Well I’ll be sure to keep a lookout for him. In the meantime though, can you keep an eye out for my girlfriend? Angel faced, toothy smile, obnoxious ass laugh though, like if you hear honking, it's probably them.” He retaliates.

You both stare at each other in silence before you break character and playfully punch him in the arm. “Shut up, idiot. I don't honk.”

“You do. Like a goose.”

"You're so good at this flirting thing, Katsuki. Keep it up." You say sarcastically.

"It is my job, after all."

He stealthily wraps his arms around your shoulder, bringing himself in closer to you. He damn near was caging you in against the wall, blocking out the rest of the party with his back.

“So what's the game plan for tonight?” You peered up at his towering figure.

“Hang out for a couple hours, do all that lovey bullshit and then I’ll take you home. Don't get too messy tonight either. I’m not trying to babysit.”

“Worry about yourself, lightweight.” You roll your eyes.

“And is this straight vodka?" He looks into your cup with disgust. "Are you mentally ill?"

“I couldn't find the red bull.” You shrug.

“So it's either that or straight vodka?”

“Yeah and? You have a problem with that?”

“Yeah I actually do. It's fucking insan-” He starts.

“Bakugou!” A voice interrupts behind him. “There you are!”

You two lock eyes for a brief second. Just when you were actually starting to enjoy yourself with annoying Katsuki, you remember that you were only here for one reason. Katsuki's jaw clenched as he turned over to lean back against the wall beside you.

“Oh. Y/N you’re here too.” They say in a deflated tone. “I was just wondering if you could give us a second to chat?” They bat their eyelashes.

“I'm not in the mood to chat.” He says, pulling you closer by the waist.

“We’re actually about to go meet up with the others. Catch him next time.” You smile sweetly, interlocking your fingers with his and dragging him towards the backyard.

To your surprise, your friends were actually all there surrounding the firepit.

Denki was the first to spot you. He gasps and jumps up from his seat.

"You're here!" He nearly trips over his own feet trying to get over to you. He pulls you in a big hug, sweeping you off your feet. "Oh my god Y/N I missed you so much I could cry right now."

He was clearly a drink or two over his limit. His cheeks were bright red and he was already starting to sweat through his shirt.

“I missed you too, Denks.” You let yourself get twirled around by him.

“Finally you're back, I’m tired of holding onto your nasty drink.” Kirishima says, passing a red solo cup to Katsuki once he sat down.

You tried to take the empty seat next to him, but he immediately grabbed your wrist to pull you to share his chair. Your eyes widen at his own, as if you could telepathically curse him out. You clench your jaw as you feel a hot flash across your face.

“It’s cold. Stay close.” He simply says.

You nervously chuckle. “There's a fire right there, babe.”

“Do it for me then.” He smirks.

You silently groan to yourself as you lean back into his chest in defeat. Luckily, the chair had enough width to allow you to not have to fully sit on his lap, moreso just a leg slung over his own.

“Try this.” He lifts the solo cup to your lips.

You peer down at the dark red liquid in his cup. The smell burnt your nose. You shot him a weary glance before you downed his concoction, having to pinch your nose right after to subdue the burn. The shock of spicy and tangy residue left your throat burning with every inhale.

"What the fuck is that?" You choke out, continuing to pinch your nose.

"Fireball, lemon juice, and OJ." He smiled mischievously. "Thoughts?"

"The nerve you have to comment on my drink after sipping on this bullshit all night? It tastes like piss.”

He shrugs, wearing a lazy smile as he grips the softness of your inner thigh, with his other arm wrapped around your shoulder, fiddling with a lock of your hair.

You were internally screaming. Usually, there would be a hand holding or an arm around the waist or shoulder, but he was never this touchy whenever you had to act like a couple in front of your friends or even in front of the people trying to get at him.

You look around the firepit to see that all of your friends were in loud conversation with one another- laughing, arguing, and definitely not paying you two any attention.

“What are you doing?” You say low enough that only he could hear. “You're like, all up in my shit."

“5 o’clock, babe.” He simply says.

You slightly turn your head to your right to see the person from earlier, trying to not-so-obviously stare at you both.

“Tryna give them a show or something? You roll your eyes.

“Only if you'd let me.” He whispers.

You felt a chill crawl up your spine. God he's being gross. But you liked it. When you first made your little arrangement, you swore to yourself to not to catch any type of feelings for him, but the more time you spent charading around as a couple, the deeper you fell into this infatuation despite how hard you fought against it or played it off as a part of the bit.

“Don’t kill me, okay?” You whisper, meeting his eyes and forcing a smile.

You turned your head to fullyface his own and leaned in. Both of you were caught by surprise- his eyes widening right before you made contact. You two had never crossed this line before, let alone talked about it. It was only ever the unspoken rule of “don't catch feelings” and “no couple shit when we’re alone.”

His lips were soft and swollen as if he spent the last hour biting down on them. Once your lips crashed into his, it felt like your stomach was turning inside out, and a fire lit within.

It's fine, it's for show. It’s fine, you agreed to this. It’s fine, it’s not real.

You were fucked. You hated him, but you liked him. Maybe it was more than like. Maybe like isn't even the right word at all, but all you knew was that you needed to stop and take a second to reevaluate what you were doing with Katsuki.

In reality, the kiss lasted no more than 10 seconds, but it felt like you had fallen into the fire pit and laid in it for hours. Your body was on fire.

Once you broke away, you two stared at each other blankly, blinking away the realization of what had just happened. You didn't know whether to laugh and slap him on the shoulder, or start crying.

“I-I'm gonna go get another drink!” You suddenly exclaim, getting up and leaving him in his chair.

I'm so FUCKED.

You quickly snake your way through the large crowd that had filtered their way to the backyard. You stop by the kitchen to pour yourself a heaping cup of whatever liquor bottle was closest to you, down a large gulp, and take the rest with you to the bathroom.

Your head was starting to feel a bit hazy from the mix of second hand smoke as well as your drinks from earlier starting to settle in your stomach. Did you even eat anything before drinking like this? You weren't really expecting to have anything more than one drink, but after your kiss with Katsuki, you suddenly feel the need to forget it all.

You were sitting up against the bathtub, wallowing in your complicated mass of feelings, and now fully intoxicated. You let your head rest on top of your knees while you replayed every single interaction you've had with him tonight.

Your phone started buzzing on the floor next to you. You opened the screen, eyes squinting to adjust to the brightness.

Of course it was Katsuki.

You sat and stared at your feet for a few minutes until you heard pounding on the door. Judging from the force of it, it was either a fucking SWAT team or Katsuki.

You grab a hold of the side of the bathtub to hoist yourself up, stumbling a bit while doing so and unlocked the door. Of course behind it was the latter.

He lets himself in and shuts the door behind him, leaning back on it.

You were wildly embarrassed for a multitude of things. You were on the verge of messy drunk, your face was stupidly hot and flushed, you kissed your fake boyfriend and ran away, you're swallowing down your feelings, and now here he is to reprimand you for all of it.

"Water as per requested." He pops open the cap of a fresh water bottle and hands it over to you.

"Thanks." You mutter and drink the water in silence.

"So are you upset at me?" He finally asks.

"Yes."

"And why is that?" He cocks his head to the side.

You were drunk, no doubt about it, but this unserious playful tone in his voice that pissed you off was clear as day. Why were you the only one freaking out? Did he not care? It surely confirmed that he does not and never have felt the same as you and truly did think of your "relationship" as nothing more but a transaction.

You purse your lips and remained silent.

"Because... you kissed me?"

You nodded.

"So you're upset at ME... because YOU kissed ME..." He states once more.

You were on the verge of tears. He loved making you look stupid but this was tenfold now. Not that he was wrong, but you weren't in the mood for it.

"So what if I am?" You choke out, tears now brimming over.

Katsuki's eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to break down so easily after a couple of harmless questions. You steps towards you and grabs your shoulders, not quite sure what to do or how to react.

"Hey hey hey, what the fuck? Why are you crying all of the sudden? Seriously, Y/N it's not a big deal."

"It is." You whine. "It is and you don't even care!"

He finally pulls you into him, letting you sob into his shoulder. His hand caressing your back in comfort.

"You idiot." He says after a moment of silence. "You're such an emotional drunk. This is why I told you not to get messy." He scolds. "I do care. But I won't if you don't want me to."

"I do want you to care. I want you to like me. Not just like me, but like-like me." You confess.

You feel him stiffen under you. Clearly your drunken state had forced you to say the wrong thing, but you didn't care.

"But do you like-like me?" He asked back, pulling you back to look at your tear stained face. "Drink some more water and sober up a bit before you answer okay?" He brings the water up to your face.

"I don't want anymore water!" You push his hand away. "I like-like you and I hate being your fake girlfriend and lying to everyone and myself about it!"

His smile grew, but he shook his head. "Okay angel face, let's talk about it then." He moves his thumb up to your cheek to wipe away stray tears.

"You're so wasted, you may not even remember this for tomorrow. But I think you're the coolest person on this fucking block, okay? And I like being around you even though you annoy the shit out of me sometimes. So stop crying and feeling bad. We're fine."

"But we're not! I don't want you to be my fake boyfriend anymore. I think you're cool too and you make me laugh and feel stupid in the heart and I fucking hate you for that, so that's why we shouldn't do any of this anymore."

He doesn't reply, but instead looks down at your sad face, lip still quivering, makeup smudged around your eyes. His hand continued to cup you cheek, forcing you to look back up at him.

Katsuki leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, letting it linger for a second longer.

"That's okay. We can do something about that when you're sober. If you even remember any of this, anyways. Let's get you home."

He grabs your hand and swiftly leads you out of the bathroom. You wonder what you had just done, whether it was going to blow up in your face (if you even remember the next day) or work itself out? Would it even matter?

[tightjeansjavi]

Mine

A/N: um…hi! I write piss kink now? 👹 I don’t know what came over me today but I was sitting at my desk and just thinking about that mean old man, when all of a sudden, I thought hmm…what would it be like if Joel pissed on me? Then I proceeded to think about the prospect of him peeing on me while I was in a WORK meeting and well, you guess where this is going ;) oh! Fun fact, I wrote most of this in the shower! (How fitting) don’t read if this sorta content disturbs you, and if there’s any puritans out there that wanna call me a sick fuck and tell me I’m going to hell, baby, I’m already there! Feminism went completely out the window on this one!

~word count: 2.7k~

Summary: Joel Miller fucks you the same way he does every night…until he decides to switch things up for the first time.

Pairing | dark!joel x f!reader

Warnings: dark!joel, rough/mean Joel, overstimulation, heavy on the degrading kink, breeding kink, biting, dom/sub dynamic, oral f receiving, spit kink, pussy slapping, slight dubcon, piss kink, implied free use, Joel calls the reader his bitch and cocksleeve, unprotected piv, pussy pronouns, no specific age for the reader, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

Hot wisps of breath fan the shell of your ear. There’s a sheen of sweat coating your skin when his tongue darts out to taste a droplet of your perspiration on his tongue. His strong hips and thighs cage you posessively as he drives his cock further into your already ruined and messy cunt. His thrusts are relentless, and with each heavy punch of his cock into your cervix, you’re gasping for air; begging, pleading for him to let you breathe, but he always refuses.

He takes you like this the same way every night. Never soft and sweet, always rough and demanding. He’s like a rabid dog that broke away from its chain and headed straight for you. Ripping, clawing, and gnawing on your soft flesh. He takes and takes when, and however he chooses.

His large hands, calloused and scarred, act as a brand upon your skin. He molds you to his liking, pressing your face further into the seedy mattress till you can taste the dust ridden fibers on your tongue. His hands are capable of inflicting so much pain, and you can only imagine how many people he has killed with them.

He grunts against your ear, teeth biting down on the soft lobe till you’re yelping for him to stop and he removes his heavy hand from your soft cheek momentarily, only to grasp your hair between his fingers and roughly yank your head up from the mattress. Hot tears blur your vision. You’re in a confused daze, his words sounding muffled as you gulp down lungfuls of air.

“Ain’t much use to me if my favorite cocksleeve stops breathin’, sweetheart.” He gruffly teases, an edge of playfulness in his tone. “Keep on breathin’ in that sweet, sweet air. It’s the only shred of kindness you’re gonna get from me tonight.”

He forces your back to meet his chest, arching your spine to meet the heavy thrusts of his cock splitting you open. He drops your hair, your scalp feeling raw and tender from how hard he was yanking on it. His strong arms encase around your middle, fat fingers tormenting your nipples. He squeezes and pinches them before he shoves you right back down into the mattress.

“Turn your head to the side so that you can fuckin’ breathe.” Is all he says while he reaches for the old headboard for leverage. The shitty mattress shakes and squeaks beneath the weight of his heavy thrusts when he picks up his grueling rhythm, again.

You listen to his advice, if you would even call it that, and turn your cheek to the side so that your airway isn’t restricted. Your trembling hands reach for the tattered sheets, and your fists clench the fabric for any sense of support.

“Atta girl.” He rasps, blunt fingernails dig fiercely into the soft flesh of your hips, taking and marking you with red crescents indented in your skin.

“J-Joel.” You try to find your words, but they are muffled and fragmented. Your mind is too focused and centered on the pleasure rippling through your body to even try and protest.

“Shuddup and take it like you always do, baby. Know you can. Don’t gotta act stubborn about it.” He hisses between his clenched teeth, bending his chest forwards against your arched back. He sinks his teeth into the spot where your shoulder blades meet.

In some twisted and erotic way, he is mating you. His primal nature to breed you, and claim you as his; only his, takes over as he bites down on your flesh hard enough to draw blood to the surface of your delicate skin. And you have no choice but to let him, because despite how used and abused Joel Miller makes you feel, you keep coming back for more because no one fucks you like he does.

And when you don’t respond to his crudeness and condescending tone, he feels pleased by your submissiveness and need to please him.

“Was startin’ to think that my perfect little fuck toy wasn’t gonna show up for her fucking tonight. Thought maybe she had finally woken up and realized her worth, but then I find ya outside my door like a stray puppy jus’ waitin’ to be fucked.” He grunts deeply, slowing the movement of his hips before drawing them back slowly. “Cus’ no matter how many times you try to deny it, you love bein’ my cock sleeve. My fuck toy. You fuckin’ live for that shit baby, and you know what? I think it’s about time that I reward you.” He lets out a throaty breath before driving his hips forward, knocking the air from your lungs in tandem with his hips sharply jutting into the soft swell your ass.

His sweat slick skin slaps against yours, the obscene sounds of sex, and your ruined pussy squelching around the thick intrusion of his cock, send your eyes rolling back into your skull when you struggle to lift your cheek from the mattress to look over at him.

“W—what kind of reward?” You choke out, lips falling open in an o shape when his fat cock head nudges against that inner soft and spongy spot deep within the walls of your inviting warmth.

He chuffs a laugh, lifting his head up from where his teeth were just embedded into your skin. “Ah, there she is. Eager as ever, huh? Be fuckin’ patient, baby. Before I change my mind and decide you don’t deserve a reward at all.” He snaps, slamming his hips forward once more before he draws them back again. He slips out of your sopping pussy completely, leaving you on the edge of your approaching orgasm.

His cock is glistening in the low light, a creamy ring of your combined arousal coats the thick, veiny girth of his cock. He scoots back just enough so that he can watch the way your pussy pulses and drools a trail of enticing slick down between your trembling thighs.

He uses his thumbs to pry your inner lips apart before he spits a glob of saliva between your gaped, pulsing hole, and down to your untouched clit, swollen and puffy with need.

“Such a messy little pussy. You should see the way she’s winkin’ at me right now. So needy and desperate for my cock to fill her up with my seed, ain’t that right?” He sounds drunk, words slurred together, darkened eyes glazed over in lust. He licks his lips, inhaling the heady scent of your arousal like a hound dog locked on a trail. “Smell so fuckin’ sweet, too.” He groans before surging forward, burying his face between your parted thighs.

He’s never eaten you out before. Always claiming that you were undeserving of his skilled mouth and tongue. But tonight he’s finally given into tasting you, and once he’s had a lick, he can’t stop. He keeps you pried apart at his leisure, dragging his broad nose right through your trail of slick from the source. His lips suckle on your clit before dragging downwards to tease your folds, sucking on them, too. He’s eating you as if your pussy, and her sweet, sweet, nectar is his life source.

Your body jolts forward when his wiry beard scrapes at the apex of your thighs. He growls against you before reaching around for your hips and anchoring you in place once more so he can continue feasting.

He obscenely slurps and groans against your cunt before drawing his face back for a lungful of air. His chin and beard are glistening, coated in your arousal when he licks you from his lips. You think that maybe he’s finally having a change of heart when he flips you onto your back with ease, your breasts bounce from the movement when your back hits the mattress with a soft thud.

He never strays from fucking you from behind, on your knees with your face smashed into his mattress. That’s how he always takes you. His way only. And yet, here you are staring up at him with your big doe eyes bright and innocent. Your lips parted when he grabs the back of your knees and presses them towards your chest.

“Make yourself useful and hold those for me, will ya?” He barks out an order.

You scramble to grab the underside of your knees, sweaty fingers nearly slipping before you are able to have a solid grip around them.

“Good girl.” He nods before wedging himself between the small opening of your thighs. He catches that almost hopeful glint in your eyes and shoots it down immediately with an intimidating glare.

He brings one hand to the back of your scalp, roughly yanking your head upwards so you’re making direct eye contact with him. His dominant hand is loosely wrapped around the shaft of his cock, and he slaps the fat mushroom head against your puffy clit to gain your attention. “You focus right here.” He snips, brows furrowed together in a harsh line across his forehead. “Don’t you go and gettin’ this twisted, ya hear me? I know how you women work. Y’all think that jus’ cause a man does somethin’ different for once, that he’s softenin’ up to ya. He ain’t. You’re still my bitch, my little cocksleeve, and you’d best be wise to remember that, baby.”

“Y-Yes, Joel. I’m still your—”

He cuts you off with a low snarl when he begins to feed you his cock from this angle inch by inch, glancing down between your bodies so he can see your pussy pulling him in further. “That you are, my girl. Still feelin’ jus’ as eager for your little reward?” He questions with a cock of his brow, smirk tugging across his devious face.

“Please.” You beg him softly, not understanding what it was you were begging him for in the first place.

“Such an eager little cocksleeve to be pumped full of my seed, baby. Never thought I’d see the day.” He chuckles, pressing his hips forward till he’s completely bottomed out inside of you, and the coarse thatch of hair above his pubic bone presses into your clit.

Wait…what?

You look at him dumbfounded, shaking your head and hoping that you just misunderstood what he was saying. “What?”

“What?” He mocks your surprised tone condescendingly.

“Joel.” You try to reason with him, “we—we can’t! I—I don’t want to carry your fucking kid!”

“Aw.” He pouts, drawing his hips back before slamming them forward again. “You don’t wanna be filled to the fuckin’ brim with my seed? You don’t think your pussy wants that, baby? I think she does.” He teases.

“No, Joel. Please. Anything but that. You can come on my tits, my face, just please—not inside!” Your mind is already reeling at the possibility of having to carry Joel Miller’s fucking offspring in a world such as this one. You felt like one of those breeding mares shipped off to some stud farm to be passed around between stallions till one of their foals would inevitably stick—

He laughs cruelly at your fear and the way it dots your vision. He can imagine exactly what’s going through your mind at that very moment. “You should see your fuckin’ face right now.” He snickers. “Relax, sweetheart. I got a vasectomy years before the outbreak.”

“Jesus fuck, Joel! Why didn’t you just start off with that?!” You yell in his face, wishing you could punch that stupid grin right from the perfect pout of his kissable lips. You feel the tension visibly leave your shoulders when he satiates your fears of pregnancy, even if he does it in such a cruel manner.

“Cus’ I like toyin’ with ya. It’s entertainment for me, baby. You’re so easy to play with. I can do it with my eyes closed.” He muses before rolling his hips forward.

“You’re such a dick for that.” You attempt to chastise him, but your attempt is fruitless.

“Now, don’t go thinkin’ you’re entirely off the hook now, sweetheart. I do believe you said earlier that I could do anythin’ else I wanted to ya, right? Your words, baby. Not mine.”

Damn, his mind is sharper than a fucking arrow.

“Yeah…I did say that you could cum on my tits, or my face—”

“Mmm…nope. That ain’t gonna cut it for me unfortunately. I think I wanna do somethin’ else.” He trailed off, meeting your slightly nervous gaze with a small tilt of his head. How could his words and body language always be so fucking…mean?

“Okay, well, what else do you want to do?”

He shrugs his shoulders in disinterest before he grabs your hands that are still secured around the backs of your knees and removes them quickly so that your thighs fall open. He wants you spread at his mercy when he begins to ram into you, over, and over again. “You’re just gonna have to wait and find out.” He grunts deeply, bending down at an angle so he can nip at the juncture of your neck.

Your head lolls to the side so he has easier access and the pleasure starts to coarse through your body till he moves his mouth down the clavicle of your chest. First he starts off with chaste kisses to the swells of your breasts, and then he toys with the pert nipple between his lips. You let out a soft mewl that quickly turns into a high pitched yelp when his teeth sink into the sensitive pebbled flesh, hard.

“OW!” You cry out at the assault of his mouth. He does it again before switching to your other nipple, delivering the same mistreatment before he soothes the broken skin with his tongue.

You jokingly call him an animal thinking that he would disagree and scold you for it, but instead…he leans into that side of himself. He fucking loves it.

“Yeah, baby. I am a fuckin’ animal. You got that damn right.”

He fucks you like one too, till your creaming around his cock, leaking out around his thick girth that continuously punches into your pussy. He slips out suddenly with a wet squelch, leaving you feeling a little dazed and positively fucked out.

“Still want your reward, baby?”

You nod dumbly, cock drunk and eyes glazed with stars still twinkling behind them.

“Alright, my little cocksleeve. Close those pretty eyes for me, and no peekin!’”

Your eyes snap shut on command, chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

The old mattress squeaks when his weight rises from it. You think about risking a peek to see what exactly it is that he’s doing, but you decide against it.

He stands above you on the mattress at his full height, looming over your spread legs while your ruined pussy is still drooling along the soiled sheets. He looks down at you with his cock wedged between his fist.

You can hear the wet sound of his fist jerking himself off before you feel the hot ropes of his seed coating your face, lips, neck, chest and lower. He shoots a load across your tummy, and right down to your pretty spread pussy.

Well, I suppose that’s a nice…reward? You think to yourself.

“Ain’t done yet, sweetheart.” He scolds you lightly from above when he sees your thighs beginning to close up like a nighttime flower closing its petals till the sweet kiss of sunrise.

He really has more than that? Damn, I underestimated this sick son of a bitch.

He relaxes his shoulders, letting out a decompressing sigh before he slowly releases his bladder with a sick smirk plastered on his face.

First, you detect the familiar stench of urine, and then the steaming liquid lands on your face, trickling down your lips. You let out a sound of protest and lift your hands above your head to shield yourself from his piss. It trails down the valley of your breasts, down your stomach and between your thighs, mixing into the trail of slick between them.

He’s marking you like a fucking dog marks his bitch, and you’ve never felt more degraded and humiliated in your entire life till you find youself under Joel Miller’s golden fucking shower. The stench of urine and cum stings your eyes and the sensitive hairs in your nose.

He bends down, cock now softened between his thighs and places one hand along the side of your face, brushing away a stray dribble of cum and piss from your lips with his calloused thumb.

“Now, no other man is ever gonna want to fuck my bitch when she’s reekin’ of my piss and cum.”

~~~

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[meltingmidas]

110.0%

Paring: Uni Professor!Hwa x Uni Student!Reader

CW: DomHwa/SubReader, SLIGHT choking, oral m. receiving, degrading, dumbification, hair pulling, Hwa is mean lol (pls lmk if I missed anything!)

WC: 810

Midas’s Notes: Woah Hello!! This is my first ever fic! I apologize for the mess, I’m still trying to set up my theme and structure for this acc..I hope you guys enjoyed my mediocre writing, please leave critiques and tips, or just anything you liked/would like to see more of!! 🫶🏻

🔞 Below 🔞

You never thought you’d be in this position, between your professors legs, hands tight behind you with a belt, kissing the tip of his cock as your own spit runs down your chin. “Come on, I know you can take more, slut. After all, this is your grade we’re dealing with.” Seonghwa snarks, harshly tugging your hair as he forced your head down on him. Your eyes pricking with tears, you try and think back to where you went wrong. Was it when you interrupted his “meeting”, only to find his own hard cock thrusting into his hand, whispering curses as he watches precum leaking into his fingertips. Surely not, maybe he wanted to get caught, knowing you had scheduled tutoring with him that evening.

You realize too late that you’ve halted your actions, leaving your lips just above his twitching length. Your thoughts interrupted by being pulled up, and a hand tightly holding your cheeks up to face him. “Did I tell you to stop?” He questions, a sharpness to his tone. You stammer, “N-no Seon-“ before you finish, he tightens his hold on you, “Address me correctly,” he leans towards you, just inches away from your face, “Did I tell you to fucking stop?” Seonghwa questions you again, his eyes cutting through you. “No, Sir. Please, I’ll do better” you answer, not caring about how desperate you sound. A smirk stretches on his lips, a satisfied sigh leaving him as he watches your head bob up and down on him. “Who knew I had such a cock whore in my class?” Seonghwa says as he plays with your hair, laughing when he hears soft gagging leaving your throat.

“All this for a better grade on a paper you did quite well on, did my student expect this?” He confronts you, his light hair touches turning into fistful tugs. “I see your glances, I see how lustful you are. It’s quite amusing, but sexy, I’ll admit”. He quirks his head to the side, admiring the view below him, “You know how many women would love to be in your position? All of the students who would only dream for this to happen?” He pushes your head down a little harder this time, his hips thrusting up to where your nose hits the base of his cock.

“You really had to dumb yourself down just to get here, huh?” He prods, “You fell from a 109.7% to a 87.9%, I wonder why?” Seonghwa adds a fake concern to his voice while glancing at your past test papers. “Oh well, you’re getting what you wanted, dirty whore.” He spits, every harsh comment rushing to your core, you feel yourself getting more wet with every word. You moan into his cock as you flatten your tongue, making sure your stretch it as far and wide as you can, earning a small moan leaving his mouth.

You look up to him with glossy eyes, meeting his sharp ones. His glasses shine in the dim lighting, his slick black hair messy from running his fingers through it all day. He’s hot. He’s so, unbelievingly hot. “Like the view? I do too, darling. Not everyday I see a stupid bitch below me” he says as he pulls your head up, finally allowing you to take a deep breath. He pumps himself a few times, watching your eyes glance between his dick and his face. A groan leaves him, a smile dancing across his lips. “You gonna let me cum on your pretty face? Ruin that pretty makeup you probably spent hours on just for me?” He sighs when he feels your lips connect to his red tip. You nod eagerly, a rush racing up your spine, a heat pooling straight to your pussy. You swirl around the tip of him, lightly sucking when you hear him hiss above you.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum, open up pretty girl” he says as he reaches to pull your hair, pulling your gaze up off his dick. A soft “pop” leaves your mouth, as you unconsciously stick your tongue out, you watch him vigorously pump a few more times, before a string of “Fuck” leaves his mouth, and ropes of thick white cum drape over your nose, lips, and tongue. You smile as you hear him groan, he finishes draining himself of his seed all over your delicate features. He sighs, his hand releasing the tight grip he had on your hair to hold your cheek. He rubs his cum into your cheek, and gathers onto his thumb to bring to your lips. You obediently oblige, sucking and licking it clean. He huffs, “Good girl. What do you say?” You smile, kissing his thumb as it leaves your mouth. “Thank you Sir.” Needless to say your grade is now 110.0%, and you’re excited to see him next session.

[monzabee]

you'll change your name or change your mind - cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you find your way back home, even if the journey takes longer than you think. 

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!bianchi!reader 

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: mentions of jules and his accident, ANGST, talks about college acceptances in the US but it’s not accurate because i’ve never applied for US schools, mentions of alcohol and underage drinking/clubbing (only in the US though), mentions of a fake id, mentions of cheating, fighting, charles being stupid and not realising it, talks about processing grief, GRIEF, survivor’s guilt, talks of therapy, friends to lovers y’all. 

Request: “The Charles fanfic was so good!! Can you write more angsty but happy needing Charles? I think it’s be cute for a man who loves Monaco so much to got to wherever his girlfriend lives Ike London or nyc often and deal with that. Maybe she hates monaco lol” + “if your requests are still open, max or charles + “you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me.” thanks!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i decided to give into the whole angst thing and i can honestly say that i’m having a great time. i wanted to include Jules somehow in this one because i’ve been seeing some edits on tiktok and let me tell you proofreading was a bitch because i kept crying. also, my spotify kept bringing up lorde and hannah montana songs, so there you go. this was definitely a hard one to write and i know it’s messy, but all feedback is appreciated. thank you, anon, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Monaco is full of memories. It’s filled with memories of your childhood, your parents picking up you and your siblings from school in Nice, and getting the train to Monaco for your brother to compete in karting races. It’s filled with laughter, and ice cream, and friends. It’s also filled with fears, loss and uncertainty, and you suppose that’s why you didn’t ever want to go back. But you find your back there every time, even if it is only for a couple of days at a time. Although it reminds you of the bad times, it’s hard to erase the good ones completely. 

Charles is just one of the people Jules brought into your life. He was right there since your birth – apparently, the Leclercs were visiting your family in Nice when your mother suddenly went into labour. You will always be thankful to Pascale and Hervé for stopping Jules from choosing your middle name to be Michael Schumacher. Neither Charles, nor you will forget the type of shenanigans you got up to as little kids, there is only a year difference between the two of you after all. There’s that one time you stole Charles’ kart and tried to go down the road, in which he caught you but instead of ratting you out to Lorenzo and Jules, who were supposed to be looking after you by the way, he helped you get it down the stairs and passed you his helmet as he explained how to go about it. Neither of your brothers were impressed by your ability to go fast or Charles’ sudden interest in maybe becoming a race engineer if the whole driver thing doesn’t work out. There was also the time when the two of you, along with Arthur, snuck out from a family friend’s wedding to only get lost in a city in the South of France; Charles got so stressed that he forgot how to speak French and proceeded to ask how to get back to the venue in Italian for the rest of the night. Needless to say, the two of you are there for each other no matter what; you stayed together through heartbreaks, wins, losses, losing Jules and Hervé, funerals, weddings and much more. The majority of your time together is spent in your family’s house in Nice. Charles doesn’t mind the half-hour journey, an hour if he decides to go back but he hardly ever does. Sometimes, he manages to convince you come to Monte Carlo for the day by bribing you with promises of sunsets and ice cream, but he will always drive you back if you insist you want to go home without any complain. 

The first time you bring up the topic of moving, you’re in your last year of high school; by that time, Charles is already racing in Formula One, so your time together is limited to breaks between the races. However he tries his hardest to be there for you, from talking you through breakdowns that occur after long study sessions, to looking up pre-med programmes for you to apply all over the world. You never wanted to live your entire life between Nice and Monte Carlo in the first place, so is he is more than happy to help you explore your options. Your application results arrive when he’s on break between the races, so the two of you sit on the small table in his Monaco apartment’s kitchen, the light from your laptop lighting up both of your faces as you open up the emails one by one. You’re most anxious about your application to Columbia, which is 3.462 miles away from Nice, and 3.993 from Monte Carlo. By the time you finish opening up all the emails, both of you are sitting there with a silence between you. The acceptance letter still open on your laptop is congratulating you for your offer to join Columbia’s pre-med program the following September. 

“Yes,” He looks at you expectantly, “Accept it, Y/N, you shouldn’t be even thinking about it!”

“Yes?” You let out a nervous laugh. “It’s not that simple, Charles–” 

“But it is!” He argues, a big smile on his face. You can tell he is proud of you by the look in his eyes and the way his emotions carry through his voice. “It’s your top choice of school!”

“It’s also in New York, it means that there will be an entire ocean between us!” 

He shrugs. “So?” 

“So?” Your eyes widen in surprise, you start staking your head a little without being aware that you are doing it. “Doesn’t that scare you?” 

“Chérie,” Charles coos, pulling your chair by its leg to bring you closer to him and wrap a supportive arm around your body. His chest rumbles from his low laughter as he presses kisses to your hair. “We’ll be fine, look at everything we’ve been through, and we’re not even that old.” 

You scoff, hitting his chest in an attempt to get away; you start furiously typing on your computer. “You are old,” you point to him with a tilt of your head, “I’m not, though.” 

He rolls his eyes and turns his concentration to the tab still open on your computer, “You’re going to accept the offer, though, right?” 

You end up accepting the offer. Charles and his family is there alongside yours to send you off on a plane to New York City. Both your mother and Charles’ have tears in their eyes as they say their goodbyes, with your father giving you a similar look. Being the youngest of four siblings, it must’ve been hard to send their youngest all the way across an ocean, but they let you know that you have their support in every step of the way. With Charles’ schedule for the remaining races scattered all over the world, he tells you not to force yourself and to enjoy your first months as a college student. 

You surprise him in Austin, though. Arranging this surprise is definitely not the easiest, but you ask Lorenzo for his help and he is more than happy to make arrangements for you. It’s the end of Friday’s last practice session when you surprise him in the Alfa Romeo garage. He almost walks past you, to get rid of his helmet when you say his name, but once he realises it is you he quickly pulls in for a hug. “What are you doing here?” He asks you while laughing with glee. 

“Heard there’s an immunology seminar in town about the effects of talking a shower and then going out without drying your hair.” You answer with all the seriousness you can muster. 

“Really?” He asks in confusion, taking his helmet and balaclava off and trying to fix his sweat-soaked hair. 

You hit the back of his head lightly, shaking your head in disbelief. “No! I came here to see you race, you idiot!” 

He shakes head in understanding. “Oh, oh!” His eyes widen once again with recognition this time. 

“Yes, oh, now come on, we’re going out.” You’re quick to add, “To dinner because airplane food sucks. We’re going out clubbing after the race, though.” 

True to your word, you go clubbing after his race on Sunday, which Charles is not entertained by. He’s paranoid by the fact that you are in the club with them in the first place, which should not be happening because you’re underage. He keeps silent as you show the bouncer your id, which he knows is a fake, by the way; as he sends Lorenzo an incredulous look, his older brother’s reaction consisting off a shrug of the shoulders makes him more paranoid. 

“Y/N, you should not be drinking.” He voices his concern, as you’re on your second drink of the night. “This is wrong.” 

“How is this different than me drinking back at home?” You argue with your eyebrows raised. “You don’t tell me I can’t drink when we’re back home.” 

“Because it is legal for you to do so there!” Charles exclaims, somehow gathering the attention of some of the clubbers nearby, but he offers them an apological smile and then turns back to you with his voice lowered. “You’re not twenty one, ergo – you shouldn’t be drinking.” 

“Pfft,” You shrug him off, “You’re stupid, and I’m bored. You want to dance?” 

You help Charles to move into his flat in Italy when he starts racing for Ferrari. Though he still lives in Monaco full-time, he rented a small place in Maranello to stay when he’s travelling. It’s an emotional event, which has both of you sitting on the floor of his new apartment going through boxes of old photographs. He finds one of his brothers and Jules with you, standing in front of a karting ring with big smiles in all of your faces. You fingers involuntarily trace over your brother, your eyes misting when you think about the day. 

“He was so young,” You whisper, having to swallow a sob which threatens to escape. 

Your eyes linger on the photograph for a while, and Charles quickly understands that you were not talking about the photograph as the tears you were trying to hold back find their way onto your cheeks. “He was.” He agrees; there aren’t enough words in the world to describe what losing a family member does to a person, and he understands you in a way most people cannot. 

You offer him a sad smile through your tears. “He would be so proud of you.” 

“He would be also so proud of you,” He whispers right back, leaning closer to you so that he could wipe away the few stray tears. “In fact, I am pretty sure he is.” 

“Stop it.” You laugh softly through your tears as you push yourself to get off the floor, and dry under your eyes with your fingers as you look across the room. “Oh my god, Charles, we have so many boxes to go through.” 

He gets up after you and looks around the dusty living room as he attempts to get rid of the dust on his clothes. “We do, don’t we?” He watches as you kneel in front of an unopened box and slice through the tape with a knife, and starting to go through the items in the box. He watches you go through the items silently for a while, noticing how seriously you take the task. His eyes linger on the frown on your face for a while, the way your eyebrows scrunch in question, or how you tuck a stubborn piece of hair, which escapes from the braid in your hair, to the back of your ear. He stalks closer, gently gripping one of your wrists and pulling you to your feet. “Dance with me.” He asks – which comes off less as an ask and more of a demand, which causes you to playfully roll your eyes at him. 

“Charles, the boxes–” You try to argue. 

His laugh is laced with mischief. “The boxes will still be there, chérie, just one dance won’t change anything.” 

You try to come with arguments in your head but all your attempts are quickly thrown out the window when you realise just how green Charles’ eyes actually are. “We don’t have any music.” You try to offer as a measly argument. 

Charles raises his eyebrows as he wraps his arms around your waist after making you wrap yours around his neck. “We don’t need any music, Y/N.” 

So you give up in any attempts in stopping him, as he starts to slowly sway both of your bodies from side to side. You let out a chuckle when he stars, terribly, humming to an old song you used to hear on the radio. “This is stupid.” You mumble as you keep up your pace with his movements. 

“You seem to keep calling me that.” Charles recalls, making both of you laugh in recognition. “I need to tell you something important.” 

“So tell me,” you encourage him, motioning him to continue. 

“I met someone.” He announces, a small smile playing on his lips. 

You breath get stuck for a moment, in which you remind yourself that Charles is waiting for your reaction – most likely a supportive one at that. “Wow, Charles.” You breath out and give him a smile, which you successfully manage to pass off as a supportive one, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice breaks off in the end. “I’m so happy for you.”

You’re not stupid – thinking that either of you could stay single forever is an unrealistic one. But it hurts to imagine him with another person while he looks at you like that makes a part of you crumble up into a ball on your bed and cry. And that’s just what you do when you go back to the hotel that night (because the house is still unliveable when the two of you decide you’re done for the day). You try to keep your sobs as quiet as possible because you know Charles is in the hotel room next to yours. As you’re looking out the window, watching the night sky light up with stars in Maranello that night, you tell yourself you, somehow, need to move on from your best friend. 

The next time you see Charles is during Christmas time. You have a tradition – Lorenzo, Charles, Jules and you, a tradition, which Arthur joined once he was old enough. It’s a peculiar one. While it’s not uncommon for most families to watch Christmas movies during this time of the year, your choice of movie has not Christmas elements in it at all. Every Christmas, the four of you watch The Sound of Music. It’s a silly tradition which was born out of boredom and lack of movies one Christmas, but it’s a tradition you managed carried out every year. 

You can still remember Lorenzo complaining because “It’s three hours of songs about whiskers and bass clef.” 

While Jules gives his best friend an unamused glare, both you and Charles try to mimic the Frenchman who you idolise. “It has nuns, songs, Nazis and familial love, Lorenzo, what more could you ask for?” He shrugs as he turns his attention back on screen, “Plus, Julie Andrews is hot.” 

“Why would she be hot?” You remember asking, the woman on the screen not seeming uncomfortable by the weather. 

“No reason,” Jules assures you, wrapping one of his arms around you.“Watch the movie, shortcake.” 

And yes, while it might be stupid to watch the same movie, which has no Christmas value at all, every year on Christmas day, it’s a reminder that you have each other even if you’re not always together. So when you sit down to watch the movie that Christmas, there is a bad feeling in your stomach when you realise Charles is not there to watch it with you. If his brothers also find it weird that he’s not there they don’t make a comment, neither do you, for that matter. You try to push it to the back of your mind and enjoy the moment, telling yourself that even if this is a tradition between the four of you, it’s not the end of the world if you fail to do it. So you smile, and have fun throughout the day – when you’re watching the movie, or when you decide to hold a gingerbread house competition (Arthur wins, by the way), or when you sit down to have dinner with your families, and it makes you feel a thousand times better. 

It’s late when he comes home that night, Lorenzo and Arthur have already passed out on the couch with you trying to read the anatomy textbook on your lap in the low light. 

“Hi.” He greets you as he gives you a tight-lipped smile. 

“Hi.” You whisper back, trying not to wake up the boy sleeping next to you. “Did you have fun?” 

“Yeah, it was a good day.” He answers truthfully, and then motions the book resting on your knees. “Aren’t you going to go to sleep?”

“No, I think I’m going to stay here tonight.” 

He doesn’t argue as he presses a kiss on your temple. “Okay, good night, chérie.”

One thing about Charles, is that he is very secretive about his relationships – to the point where he won’t introduce someone to you or his family if he doesn’t think the relationship is going somewhere. So, when he brings over Charlotte for lunch the next day, there is a buzz around the house. The lunch goes well, you think. Charlotte is sweet, and the two of you talk about many things including your universities; she’s very impressed that you want to go into the medical field and you tell her that architecture must be a pain in the ass to study and she agrees with a loud laugh. 

When Pascale asks them what they did for Christmas yesterday, Charlotte leans against Charles’ arm as she answers, “Oh, nothing. We just stayed home and watched that old movie – what was it again?” 

“The Sound of Music.” Charles answers, his eyes are focused on his hands, and you know this, because your eyes don’t heave his frame until Arthur forces you to carry the dishes into the kitchen. 

“We’ll do them, maman,” he announces when Pascale attempts to tidy up the dishes, “Y/N will help me, won’t you?” 

“Yeah, sure.” You nod, the voice coming off from you not matching the sunny disposition you present to the rest of the room. 

You carry the dishes Arthur passes to you to the kitchen, holding your breath in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, and you succeed, too. At least until Arthur comes after you, carrying more dishes and places them next to the other ones near the kitchen sink. You start scrubbing them with intensity, your sniffles and the sound from water whooshing around in the sink filling the room. Arthur pulls you against him as you lean your forehead to his shoulder, or where you can on his arm due to your height-difference, as you start quietly sobbing. Arthur turns the tap on as he lets you cry into his shoulder. 

The two of you return to the dining room after the dishes are done, and continue the conversation as if nothing happened. After Charlotte announces that she should be on her way, you walk her to the door with everyone, the two of you exchanging numbers as she makes you promise to go shopping with her the next time you’re in Monaco. You agree with a chuckle and tell her only if she teaches you how to draw because your “Anatomy notes are seriously suffering.” After she gives Charles a kiss and leaves, Charles turns to you. 

“It’s just a movie.” He says in a low voice. 

“You’re allowed to have fun with your girlfriend, Charles.” You assure him and pat his shoulder for good measure. Then, you turn to Arthur, who is watching the exchange with a confused look on his face. “Want to play a round before I leave?” 

“Sure,” he agrees and the two of you move into the living room to play a round of F1 on the PlayStation. He sets it up for you as you try to get comfortable on the couch, trying to get rid of the feeling of unease as Charles watches you from the other side of the couch. “Who do you want to pick?” Arthur asks you, the cursor hovering over his choice – who is of course his brother. 

You stay quiet for a moment and answer him in a calm voice, “Give me Max.” 

Charles scoffs from the other side and pushes himself off, his arms crossed over his chest. “Rich, Y/N, just rich.” 

“What?” you ask him with faux innocence and a shrug of your shoulders. 

His voice is accusatory when he snaps, “Stop being childish for a moment.”  

“Oh, I’m being childish?” You ask him, getting off the couch as well. 

“Yes, you’re being extremely childish right now.” He agrees, nodding his head. “Glad we at least agree on that.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask again while narrowing your eyes. 

He scoffs, “It’s just a stupid movie.” 

“I didn’t say a fucking word about the movie, Charles.” You point out, mimicking his pose as you cross your arms over your chest. In reality, it’s a short attempt at trying to hide your shaking hands. “But it’s not a stupid movie, it’s tradition.” 

“Traditions can be broken from time to time.” He argues.

“I didn’t say they couldn’t.” You shrug, trying to appear indifferent to the man in front of you. 

“Maybe if you tried to stick around for more than three days at a time, you wouldn’t be so upset about these type of things.” 

Your mouth hangs open in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Charles, maybe you should–” Arthur tries to stop his brother, but Charles waves him off. 

“Sometimes I think ‘Did I do something?’, but then I realise that maybe the problem is not me–”

Though you’re shocked by his words, you find yourself assuring him, “It’s not, it has nothing to do with you.” 

Both you and Arthur can see something snaps in him, causing him to raise his voice. “Then what is it? Tell me so I can fix it and you can stop running away!” 

You shake your head, your arms which are wrapped around you becoming tighter as an attempt to provide yourself some sort of protection. “You can’t fix it, Charles.” 

His arms become undone as his fists ball on either side of his body. “You don’t know that–”

“No you can’t!” You scream, somehow more tears flowing from your eyes. “You can’t bring Jules back because he’s dead, and you can’t fix me because I’m not a toy! You think I want to live this way? You think I want to go back every damn time I set foot in this city because I just hate it here? I can’t bear the thought of staying here because of the fact that my brother died while I was here and I didn’t get to say goodbye to him.” You point a finger towards him, your voice gradually becoming louder to match his. “He was dead by the time I got back to the hospital and they told me he couldn’t hold on any longer, how do you think that makes me feel every time I feel like I’ve overstayed in this city, huh?”

“You need to stop living in the past, Y/N.” He shakes his head. “Don’t you see you’re letting the past hold you back?” 

“‘Letting the past hold me back’ do you even hear yourself right now? I am trying my best to move on!” 

“By moving across the ocean?” He asks you, “By leaving the people you love you behind?” 

“You– you can do this!” You scream as you walk towards him and jab your finger against his chest. “You told me to take the offer, you told me to move away because you were so sure we’d be fine.” 

“Well maybe I was wrong.” He whispers, grabbing both of your wrists to stop you from poking him and curling his arms closer to his chest. 

Your eyes widen with a furious look in them, which makes him realise he sees more of Jules in them than before. “Screw you, Charles.” You struggle against his hold, hitting his chest with your fists with every word as you scream, “Screw you for trying to dictate how I process my grief, and screw you for acting so indifferent.” You win your struggle in the end, taking advantage of the fact that he is both distracted and speechless to get out of his hold and quickly grab your things. 

“Where are you going?” He asks you as you’re putting your coat on. 

“Anywhere but here.” You snap at him, refusing to meet his eyes. 

Arthur quickly comes near you with a concerned look, “You shouldn’t be driving right now, at least let me drive you.” 

You give him the warmest smile you can muster up, “I’ll be fine, ThurThur,” your eyes find Charles’ as you continue, “Don’t ever change, okay?”

After the disastrous Christmas last year, you two didn’t talk for a whole year, even though the people around you tried their hardest to bring you to talk to each other. Even Charlotte tried to trick you into spending time, claiming that she had a work emergency just as you arrived at the lunch you two scheduled to find Charles sitting there – you quickly left without being seen and spent the day walking through the marina because “Fuck Charles if he thinks you can’t spend more than three days in Monte Carlo.” He spends Christmas with Charlotte again, but unlike this year, you don’t feel sad about his absence, choosing to call it growth when reality it’s actually packing it away to deal with it another time. 

The two of you eventually do make up, though, when you go to one of Arthur’s races to support him and run into Charles on the track. You talk between breaks, both of you succumbing and apologising to each other for the things you’ve said – him more than you, but you still apologise for the way you’ve acted afterwards. Arthur has a strange smile on his face when he finds you, releasing a relieved breath when you told him that you’re fine and you’re going to take baby steps. 

“Good,” he smiles, “maman was about to lock you onto Charles’ yacht.” 

Your therapist calls is ‘survivor’s guilt’. Yes, you have one of those now because although you want it to be false, you think a part of what Charles said might be right. She explains to you that it’s a natural response where someone has suffered a loss and you didn’t. This confuses you, though, because even if the loss in question is the death of your brother, you weren’t there to experience it with the rest of your family. Dr. Gambini is there to explain that “Although it implies experience, it doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t not feel the loss of something you didn’t get to suffer.” So, you go through the therapy experience to try to understand your own feelings, which makes you think maybe it is what you should be focusing on in the first place. It’s an overwhelming feeling, understanding things about yourself which you didn’t before – the things you used to feel slowly gain meaning as you go about it. You’re proud of yourself when you talk about it to your parents, and they tell you that they are proud of you for giving it a go. Charles joins you in one of your sessions – it’s Charlotte’s idea, actually. He tries to understand why, and how he can help you – he leaves the session feeling proud of you for taking care of yourself. 

A few months later, you get a phone call from him when you’re in the middle of the week when you are studying,  while all of your friends are away for spring break. His voice is thick with tears as he tells you that it’s over between him and Charlotte, but refuses to give you a reason when you ask why. It leaves you confused in New York, but when he asks you if you can come home for the weekend, you don’t hesitate to book a ticket for the next flight out. He’s shocked to find you standing in front of his door, but pulls you in for a hug anyway. Neither of you care about the duffel bag that hits the floor at your feet, even when you’re stumbling over it to get to him. You don’t talk, but hold each other throughout the night. He offers to cook for you, but you decide that ordering pizza is a better solution than trying to each what Charles attempts to cook. So, you end up deciding on pizza and a movie. 

You look at him confused when you realise which movie he’s selected, “It’s not Christmas, Charles.” 

He sits down on the couch, and pulls you under his arm as he reaches for the pizza box sitting on the coffee table. There’s a nostalgic smile on his face which you cannot understand. “I owe you two screenings of this movie, Y/N. Now eat your pizza and watch it.” 

So, the two of you watch the movie in silence – with silently laughing in relevant scenes and Charles even attempting to sing the Lonely Goatherd, which leaves you in tears because of how much you’re laughing. At the end of the night he walks you to the guest room in his apartment and pulls you for one last hug, whispering, “Thank you for coming,” into your hair. 

“Of course, Charles.” You whisper, turning your head and softly pressing a kiss to his shirt-covered chest. “Try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning. 

He’s in the kitchen when you wake up in the morning, focusing so intently on something on his phone to notice you. You ruffle his hair as you make your way through the kitchen to make some breakfast for the two of you. “Good morning to you too, you grump.” You tell him, when you finish getting out the ingredients for the breakfast you have in mind. 

“Morning, chérie.” He answers, in a non-committal voice.  

“And to think I was going to make you pancakes.” You sigh as you halt the movement of your hands and lean against the counter. 

A playful smile is on your lips when Charles excitedly raises his head. “Pancakes?” He asks in a soft voice. 

“I was going to add chocolate chips, too, but you didn’t say good morning to me and now I don’t think I’m in mood to be honest with you.” You shrug, starting to put away the bowls you took out. 

He quickly comes behind the counter to tickle some sense in you, and you use the bowl in your hands as a shield as you start laughing. He gives up after a while, pressing a kiss to your temple and fixing some of your hair which fell out of place during the ‘fighting’. “Good morning, how can I help you?”

“Wow, you actually want to help me cook for a change?” You coo, ruffling his hair again and hitting his hip with yours to get him out of your way. “Go wait on the other side, you grumpy baby.” He complies to your directions to sit on the other side of the island, but doesn’t bother with his phone this time. You make a motion towards his phone on the island with your head as you crack the eggs into the bowl. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, just some problem with the car.” He answers. “I might need to go to Maranello for a day or two. When is your flight back to New York?” 

“Oh– I can change it if you know the date–” You start to say, but he quickly cuts you off. 

“What? No, I don’t want you to go back.” He quickly says, shaking his head. “I just thought you might want to come with me rather than stay here.” 

“Oh,” You say, looking around. “It’s not a problem, I can stay and study.” 

There is a confused look on his face. “Stay? Here?” He asks over and over again. “Here? Stay? Alone?”

“Yes, Charles, I can manage to stay by myself.” You sigh. “I did it last summer for a month, you can trust me, alright?”

“You were in Monte Carlo for a month, last summer? How did I not catch you at all?” 

You let out another sigh, “In case you don’t realise, I’m very good at avoiding you.” You continue when he gives you yet another confused look as you start mixing the batter. “Charlotte told me to meet her at a restaurant but it was a set up for me to meet with you, so I got in the car and drove away. It was probably the closest we got to each other.” 

“Wow.” He looks at you with wide eyes. “Just, wow.” 

You roll your eyes and glare at him. “Stop looking at me like that. My classes are all online this semester and Dr. Gambini thinks it’s good for me to spend more time here; it’s supposed to help me get closure, or something.” 

He gives you a big smile. “I’m proud of you, Y/N.” 

“Yeah?” You ask him, his smile quickly mirroring on your own lips. 

“Yeah.” He breathes out. “And you can stay here all you want! And cook me breakfast, you know.” 

You let out a laugh this time. “I can get my own place, Charles.” 

“But then who will cook me breakfast?” He asks with a small pout. 

“You are a child, Perceval.” You laugh at the way he looks at you, with his elbows bent over the counter and his upper body leaning over the stove. “I’m only cooking you breakfast; you have to promise you won’t fall in love with me after this.” You joke. 

You turn around to look in the cupboard for the chocolate chips as you hear him mumble, “Too late.” 

You almost hit your head at the open cupboard door when you turn right back to look at him. “What?” You walk towards the island as you mumble out, “No, no, no, no, don’t say that. You just broke up with your girlfriend, Charles.”

“We broke up almost five months ago.” He announces, no hint of joking in his voice. “Right before the Abu Dhabi race.” 

“That’s not true.” You say, shaking your head. “I spoke to Charlotte; she told me everything was fine.” 

He shrugs, then offers you an explanation. “We announced it a couple of months later, but we’ve been broken up for a while.” 

“But then why did you call me a couple of days ago to tell me it was over?” You ask him, visibly confused. 

He looks guilty as he admits. “I– I don’t have a good answer for that.” He stalks over to the other side of the island again to trap you between himself and the marble in an attempt to prevent you from evading. “All I can say is that I love you.” 

“Oh, wow.” You say, suddenly you can find the right choice for words. “Say that again for me?”

“I love you, Y/N.” 

“Now in French?” 

“Je t'aime.”

“In Italian?”

“Ti amo.” He laughs this time, leaning down towards you to bring his face towards yours. “You done?” You nod your head with a giggle escaping past your lips. “This would be a perfect time to say something, you know.” 

“Oh, right.” You nod in acknowledgement. “Thank you.” 

“What?” He asks in horror. 

“Yeah, thank you. You know, for the–”

“Chérie!” He exclaims with his eyes wide. 

You continue your giggles as you place your hands on his cheeks and pull his face towards you, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you too, chez moi,” my home/place. The pancakes are long-forgotten when you pres your lips on his to give him a kiss, somewhere in the universe your twelve year-old is high-fiving with herself, but you are happy to be finally home. 

[mistywaves98]

Hello! Can I request a mean dom!Scaramouche (Wanderer) with a s/o who has a degradation kink?

✧･ﾟ:* ->Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Degradation, he's Wanderer but is referred to as Scaramouche, Choking sorta (he pushes his fingers into your mouth), Fingering, he's just a meanie here, Not proofread (I apologize for any spelling mistakes)!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Finally posting something after months of hiatus 😭😭 I'm sorry I left so suddenly but I hope this will make up for it 🥲 It wasn't meant to be this long but I got carried away...Enjoy!!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Minor writing smut! DNI if uncomfy!

Scaramouche doesn't hold back his opinions and thoughts, no matter how harsh they sound to others. You, his significant other, are no exception. Not that you're complaining...

"You're such a slut, you know that? Bucking your hips up for any kind of friction like a needy bitch. Are my fingers not enough? Move them? How about no...I quite like seeing you all desperate like this." You let out a frustrated groan as he denies you yet again. You're on his lap, your back pressed against his chest and legs spread out. His fingers are buried in your cunt, just barely nudging your sweet spot. It's been like this for what feels like hours and he refuses to move them at all. You're so sensitive now and every little movement you make sends pleasure rippling through your body like waves. But it's not enough. If only he could just give in and...

You try to grind yourself against his hand once more, but this time he's quick to put a stop to it by using his free one to hold your hip in place with a bruising grip. This emits a low whine from you and tears well up in your eyes, a cruel smile crosses his face when he realizes. He brings his mouth to brush the shell of your ear as he speaks in a condescending tone,"Awww, gonna cry? Is the little whore not enjoying herself? Good. This was punishment anyway, you brought this upon yourself. So fucking needy...you couldn't wait till I got home to satisfy you so you decided to hump a damn pillow like an animal in heat. It's utterly pathetic and shows just how helpless you are without me" his voice gets lower and his words progressively become filthier and harsher.

Tears spill from your eyes and one would almost think you were hurt from them, but the way your walls clamp around his fingers even tighter tell a different story. As he continues to whisper vile things into your ear, you feel your face get warmer and your thighs twitch, a sign that you're getting close. He takes note of that and scoffs,"Are you seriously going to cum? I've barely touched you, unless...you enjoy being berated? This is a new low for you and here I thought you couldn't become even more of a slut than you already were, but it's okay, you're my slutty little girl, aren't you? Go on, come on my fingers like the whore you are" he pushes his fingers in even deeper, his fingers pressing against your g spot. That was all it took to have you arching your back and cumming around his fingers, moaning loudly.

You lay back against his chest, breathing heavily as Scaramouche pulls his digits out and observes the way your juices glisten on them, chuckling to himself. Suddenly, an idea comes to him and his smirk widens as he says in a partly sarcastic tone,"You're so messy...it's only fair that you take the responsibility and clean it up, right?" Without warning, he uses his free hand to force your mouth open as he shoves his coated index and middle finger past your lips, making you gag and cough as they hit the back of your throat.

Your reaction makes him grin as he pushes down on your tongue and moves his hand back and forth slightly, making you taste yourself whether you want to or not. This leaves you with no option other than to obediently wrap your lips around them and begin sucking. Your actions earn a hum of approval from him,"So you do have a brain after all. That's it. Keep sucking on my fingers just like that, imagine it's my cock" his words make your mind wander and your face grows warm as you feel yourself become aroused once more. Scaramouche notices it as well and an amused laugh reaches your ears. He brings the hand that was previously holding your mouth open down to your soaking pussy. He rubs circles around your clit, making you shudder and clench your fist,"So wet and ready for more...Was one orgasm not enough? Oh why do I even ask, of course it's not enough for a stupid whore like you...you're so desperate it's almost funny. But fine then, if you want more, then I'll fuck you till you're screaming for me to stop. Don't get ahead of yourself though, I'm not done punishing you just yet..."

He then gives your clit a hard pinch, making you jump and let out a muffled yelp. Scaramouche then runs a finger down your slit, coating it with your slick before pushing two fingers inside of you till they're knuckle deep. You writhe on his lap as he thrusts them in and out roughly. The assault on your pussy has you seeing stars and slightly muffled whimpers leave your mouth as you clamp your thighs around his hand. The pleasure is short lived as he suddenly pulls out his fingers and gives your pussy a sharp smack, earning a loud cry from you as he growls lowly into your ear,"I didn't tell you stop sucking, slutty bitch. And keep those legs spread for me"

You immediately begin sucking on his fingers once more but hesitate to open your legs. The hesitation doesn't linger though and you slowly spread them apart, making him smirk at your obedience. The two that were previously in your pussy resume their actions, not being gentle in the slightest. Within a few minutes you can feel your second orgasm of the night approaching and you know he's aware as well. The way your moans get louder and higher in pitch make it obvious. However, as you feel yourself about to reach your peak, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and pussy, leaving you high and dry, a sadistic look adorns his face as he glances down at your teary expression.

"Why...why did you do that? I was about to—!" Your protest is cut off as he grabs your hips and effortlessly lifts you up, turning you around so that you're facing him. The smug look on his face makes you want to slap him. Suddenly, he grabs your face in a tight grip and pulls you closer to him so that you're looking into each other's eyes. His pupils are dilated and his irises seem to be literally glowing as you see the sadistic lust swirling around in them, making you shiver,"I know, that was part of the punishment," he says bluntly before adding in a much more ominous tone,"But now I'm done playing with you"

He then presses his lips against yours in a heated kiss. His tongue pushes it's way into your mouth and dominates yours instantly. Your hands grasp his shoulders as his keep their firm grip on your hips. You tense up for a moment as you feel him grind your bare pussy against his obvious bulge and you feel him smile into the kiss as he swallows your squeak of surprise. When he finally pulls away, you're left panting and out of breath while he looks better than ever besides the light blush on his cheeks and beads of sweat.

He licks the saliva off his lips before unzipping his pants with one hand and leaning in to whisper in your ears,"Better prepare yourself, because I have no intentions of holding back tonight..."

[b1mbodoll]

Matthe hcs? Or literally any zb1 I BEG

pairings: seok matthew, kim taerae x f! reader

warnings: size kink + breath play + strength kink + impact play + oral + dacryphilia + degradation + sadist! taerae + ruined orgasms + omorashi

💌: chose matt n taerae bc the brain rot has been awful :D also thank u to my beloved lil bella (@bubbleseo) for letting me use an idea we talked abt in dm’s !!! be sure to follow her i <3 her writing ‘nd she has the best thoughts ever ૮꒰。• ༝•꒱ ა ♡ ૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა

˚ʚ seok matthew ɞ˚

❤︎₊ ⊹ matthew’s strength kink ties into his size kink. he loves how easily he can toss you around because he’s just so much stronger than you <3 he’s hunky and beefy and absolutely ripped, using his strength to his advantage by slapping you across the face when you get a little too mouthy for his taste, eyes watering and cheek stinging. despite the pain you clench your thighs, squirming a little and moaning each time he hits you, becoming more and more desperate to feel his cock inside of you and filling you up

❤︎₊ ⊹ he’s a fan of breath play as well. wraps a strong arm around you, tucked beneath your chin and flexes, restricting your oxygen intake and making you claw at his bicep. you’re never able to make him stop though, forced to gasp and struggle for breath until he decides you’ve had enough, your cunt dripping and chest heaving when he lets you go. matthew’s kind of a meanie, but only sometimes! like when you go down on him, deepthroating his cock ‘nd gagging around him, knowing how much he likes hearing you struggle to take him. if you try pulling off before makin’ him cum he just lays a heavy hand on the back of your head, using his strength to force his length down your throat. he pinches your nose and uses you like a cocksleeve until he blows his load and his cum floods your mouth, not bothering to check whether you’re conscious or not.

❤︎₊ ⊹ while he does enjoy titles like sir or daddy, he prefers hearing you moan his name while he’s fucking you. he likes knowing that he’s the one making you feel good and every little whimper or mewl of “matty please” and breathy moan of his full name makes him crazy, bucking his hips wildly to draw more cries from you and grunting when your hands find their way to his biceps, digging your nails into them and making him hiss, cock twitching inside of you because he loves the pain and little reminders of you littered all over his body

˚ʚ kim taerae ɞ˚

❤︎₊ ⊹ taerae is such a sweetheart but there’s something about him that screams sadist to me. he gets off on your pain and humiliation, cock impossibly hard when you start to cry as he degrades you, calling you his dumb little breeding bitch and slamming his cock into you harshly. each thrust is powerful, the fat tip of his dick kissing your cervix every he pushes his length deep inside and ripping squeals from you.

❤︎₊ ⊹ he likes making you feel so good it hurts, forcing you to cum for him over and over until you’re shaking and tears are streaming down your cheeks. it doesn’t matter how much you beg him to stop because you’re a toy for his pleasure and if he wants to use you until you’re nothin’ but a cockdrunk dummy then that’s what he’s gonna do <3 but if you struggle or push him away, taerae gets even meaner. he’ll bury his face between your thighs and lap at your cunt, wrapping his lips around your clit and bringing you closer to the edge, pulling away right before your orgasm hits to slap your sore pussy, sobs and wails like music to his ears.

❤︎₊ ⊹ there’s nothing he loves more than dumping his piss inside your messy little cunt :( he fucks you from behind, each thrust calculated and powerful, making you sigh and whine softly. you’re so dumb for thinkin’ he’s nice enough to fuck you without an ulterior motive, and it shows when your pussy clenches around him as your orgasm washes over you, pushing yourself back onto him and focusing on making him cum. he lets you enjoy yourself for a bit until the pressure on his bladder is too much to bear and he’s draping himself over you before letting go. his piss is warm and you can feel the steady stream splash inside of you, moaning loudly at the feeling. “you’re so fucking nasty,” he spits, teeth clenched as his hips stutter, pelvis wet with cum and piss. “aren’t you ashamed? can’t believe my princess enjoys bein’ used like this.” taerae’s words have your lip wobbling, eyes squeezed shut as you try not to cry but he doesn’t stop, he won’t until you’re sobbing so hard your body shakes. “this is what you were made for, isn’t that right?” you nod in reply, cunt clenching around him and milking his cock until you’re so full his piss leaks out of you, pooling on the bedsheets below.

[luvyjinx]

sabo — first love reunited

pairing : sabo x afab reader

fandom : one piece (animanga)

warnings : NOT YANDERE ! forced marriage, mention of slaves, mention of torture, two faced bitches, coercion, discrimination, mention of death/murder

a/n : I was procrastinating on writing anything when this idea popped in my head and I immediately opened a draft, enjoy some romantic sabo — I also didn’t know how to end this, so don’t mind how rushed it feels

”he was my first love..” you hum, as though recalling pleasant memories. “I loved him a lot, well.. as much as I could at 9 years old.” you let out a small laugh.

“we were both such rebels,” another laugh, “at first, I loathed him, loathed the mere thought of him ; the thought I was set to marry some snobbish brat.”

1510 — Goa kingdom

“(name),” you flinch at the sound of your mother ; her tone strict and voice harsh. “stop this whining at once. your betrothed is already on his way.”

your heart sinks and you stop. your betrothed, you repeat in your head.

you hadn’t asked your mother about him, and she hadn’t bothered to tell you. but, you knew, the type of boys the young nobles were : snobbish, arrogant, deceitful, mischievous and inconsiderate were a few words that came to mind.

and though it seemed dramatic, you would not marry such a man. and so, you set yourself a goal : you would ruin this marriage.

”I hadn’t known how similar we truly were. he was an embodiment of me, and I of him. and when we finally realised, we became like this,” you twist your fingers together, smiling to yourself.

“inseparable.”

“oh, look (name)! they’re finally here!” your mother squeals happily (and you have to pause to remind yourself that she had been screaming murder only a few seconds ago).

she turns to you with an angry smile and a hand on your wrist — tight. it was a warning. one that told you to act accordingly. to not embarrass her.

soon, a car parks and out come three figures.

mother rushes toward them. “oh, welcome! just come in! (name) has been so excited to meet you all, especially dear sabo!” she giggles, like a true mother recounting her child's antics (you hadn’t even known his name) and you take the time to scan your betrothed — sabo.

he was a young boy, only slightly taller than you, sporting messy blond hair and an even messier face (he even had a missing tooth). you grimace at the sight of the multiple bandages and smaller scratches decorating his face. at least, his clothes were neat – you assumed his parents hoped to impress you (or mother) with the sight of gold on his wrist.

a push to your back forces you out of your thoughts and you find yourself stumbling toward your (future) in laws.

“oh, what a dear!” the woman giggles, bringing a hand up to her chest. “isn’t she just adorable, sabo?”

sabo, just like you a second ago, stumbles. “huh- um.. yes?” he almost questions.

“oh, come on didit! no need for us to push them, let’s just leave them to each other.” your mother says, “I have tea and dessert set up for us.”

for a second, you swear you can see didits eyes sparkle. “well, if you insist!”

and with a final glare from mother, you’re left all alone with the boy you hoped to ruin.

you go silent for a few seconds, still smiling. “we used to do everything together. we promised to do everything together.” you look up.

“we were gonna escape and travel the world. live together, only the two of us.. but fate wasn’t on our side.”

“I hate you.”

sabo chokes at your sudden declaration.

“I don’t want to marry you, and if I had it my way, which I will, I wouldn’t.”

you raise your chin, eyeing him down, waiting for him to point his finger and jut his lip.

instead, he gathers himself and laughs, “you think I want to marry you?”

and now it’s your turn to choke.

”I’m gonna leave, now that their eyes are off me. you can do whatever you want.”

and to your surprise, he actually turns to walk. then, to his surprise, your fingers wrap around his wrist.

“huh-“

“take me with you!”

“wait, what— !”

“I was always following him around, I found him and his life so exciting.”

“I said I was a rebel, but I never really did much. I think following him then was the first time I’d actually dared to leave.” there was a hint of sadness in your eyes.

“he tried to convince me, he said it was dangerous and I’d get in trouble, but, for the first time, I didn’t care.

and so we left.”

”sabo, why’d you have to go ahead and bring a girl?” a boy, sabos height, points to you scowling — you learn his name is ace.

“yeah! yeah! weren’t you gonna go and get m-muryed?” another boy, shorter than you, was hanging off sabos back (that was now converted in snot and tears).

sabo sighs, but there’s no contempt in his eyes. “married, you mean, luffy. this is actually my fiancée, (name).”

you see aces jaw drop, and you smirk to yourself.

the younger boy, luffy, jumps off sabos back and latches onto you. “I’m luffy and I’m sabos brother!”

“brother?” you blink confused, sure they seemed close, but they looked nothing alike.

“yh! we shared a cup of sake and became brothers!”

oh. your cheeks burn and a feeling bubbles up in your chest (you later learn that feeling is envy).

“what’s wrong, (name)?” sabo asks sweetly, sparing the boy on your back one glance.

“oh– I’ve never had sake.”

“hah! even luffy who’s younger than you has had some!” ace points and you furrow your brows at him.

“you’ve only had it once, ace.

but sabos words go unheard as you and ace pounce on each other (with luffy on your back).

”I felt so free with those three, even ace, who I argued with. everyday was full of fun and laughter. I wanted to join them,

and I did. but only for awhile.”

“I think I should go back.”

silence.

“I’m being serious, ace.”

the two of you were sat alone in the treehouse, waiting for any news on the other two parts of your little family — who were currently missing.

he sighs, “don’t be stupid, (name). sabo would hate it,” dismissing you.

sure, he would, he liked to be the only selfless one. but, you knew, he wouldn’t not come back, unless there was something stopping him (or rather someone).

“really, ace! I’m the only one who knows what that place is like, and if they’ve taken him, they’re probably already looking for me too.”

ace quiets and he probably realises there’s nothing he can say. but then he adds,

“believe in him. sabo’s strong, you should know that best.”

you swallow then sniffle, curling into yourself even more.

“he died after. he decided to set sail and left me a note, saying we’d reunite.

it broke my heart, of course. I was the only one who completely understood how he felt at that place and when he set sail and when he was shot by that—“ you stop, inhaling.

“and so I decided to set sail to fulfil my late fiancé’s dream.”

“but, mama—“

“I know, I know. but that was what I thought then.”

there was a man standing in front of you. unsure how to react, you just stared.

he looked like sabo, dressed like sabo and even his name was sabo. but it had to have been a coincidence.

“no..” you start weakly, “sabo died a long time ago. sabo– he’s dead.”

but then, the man laughs (and your heart skips a beat),

”that day you followed me, you couldn’t sleep. and so I stayed up beside you, and you told me why you hated me. you told me about the slaves, the screams and the cries. and I promised that we’d escape.”

“no–“

“we’d travel the world as pirates, meet all kinds of people and eat different foods, then when we were tired. we’d live in a house with blue walls – your choice, of course and–“

“you died.” you whispered again, tears filled your eyes. you must’ve been dreaming or hallucinating.

you were scared you’d blink and he’d be gone.

“I suffered a head injury and lost all my memories. Ive been with the revolutionary army since then.”

then he swallows, and you notice his clenched fist. “I only remembered when I saw the headlines about..”

“ace,” you whispered, tears now rolling down your cheeks. there was a point where you had contemplated following him.

“I’ll never leave you again,” he promised, and for the first time you saw him as a man. not the sweet child with missing front teeth.

“come back with me. we can stay in the revolutionary army for a while, and then we—“

you shake your head. “sabo, I moved on, I can’t—“

“please,” he begged. “please.”

“I couldn’t remember you, but I missed you. my heart ached for you always and I’d have dreams about the home we talked about. please, (name), just stay.”

“oh oh! and then what?”

you giggle, “and then they–

and at the same time, the door opens and in comes a tall figure, with messy blonde hair and even messier clothes. he raises his arm to lay on the (blue) walls of your home and smiles.

“I’m home!”

lived happily ever after.”

[backwardsbread]

Hi!! I loved your Hazbin character proposal headcanons for Lucifer, Alastor and Vox! I was wondering if you could do the same for Angel dust x gn! reader and how Angel thinks about the idea of marriage and how he would propose? Thank you love!!❤️

Uhh- ABSOLUTELY I WILL- DONT GOTTA ASK ME TWICE 💛💛

The support in my last two writings was OVERWHELMING- I have a ton of stuff saved in my drafts that I’m finishing up, so more is to come. But I’ll never turn down an opportunity to write more fluffy scenarios.

They heal my soul— ANYWAYS, I hope you enjoy~ I had so much fun writing this- this is my first time writing AngelDust, so bear with me!

AngelDust x GN!Reader

~Marriage proposal~

Warnings‼️: Mentions of past trauma, established relationship, mentions of harassment, working for the V’s, swearing, fluff, Gn!reader, toxic work environment, mentions of Valentino?? I think that’s it?

~Not proofread~

Angel Dust:

The thought of marriage very much unsettled AngelDust.

Sure, on the inside, Angel was a complete sap. He loved pure sentiments, mushy couple clichés, the thought of loving somebody as much as his heart and soul would allow.

It all made Angel’s heart skip.

But in his head, all of that was just fairytales. Stuff he only saw on screen. The real thing was ugly.

Messy, uncomfortable, and painful. Throughout his life and throughout hell, romance didn’t come as pure and joyous.

It came as rough, forceful, and sad. So he threw his hopes and dreams of being swept off his feet to happily ever after out the window.

Besides, it threw off his entire persona of who he was in Hell! His face was on every other build-board, showing off a lewd expression or erotic poses.

It’s who sinners knew him as. AngelDust. The porn demon who fell for Valentino’s tricks.

You were a film assistant, not exactly an actor/actress, but you did more work behind the scenes.

You helped AngelDust with makeup, scripts, costumes (that were absolutely useless in your opinion when most got torn to shreds during filming)

You were there to offer water to him, a rag when needed, overall you were pretty much a silent helping hand. An oddly comforting presence for Angel.

Whenever you would help Angel with production, he would find a sense of relief knowing he wouldn’t be rushed or harassed before working. He could sit in comfortable silence with you or rant about his long day.

You didn’t speak back a lot to Angel, only giving occasional hums of acknowledgement, or quiet directions for helping put on his makeup.

You weren’t trying to be rude or anything, you just knew that Angel needed a listening ear more than anything.

The first time Angel heard you add to his ranting was when Angel was telling a story about Valentino. One of his favorites to tell, when the moth man couldn’t count up the cash Angel had just earned for him, despite it only being three bills.

At the mention of the overlords name you mumbled a quiet, ‘blind moth bitch’ under your breath, that clearly caught Angel off guard, as he stopped his rambling immediately.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment and you fear for a moment that you crossed a boundary. That fear quickly fades when AngelDust bursts out into a fit of belly laughs and snorts.

His laughter was so contagious.

You find yourself giggling, then full on wheezing along with Angel.

You can barely finish his makeup properly that day because of the back and forth banter the two of you engaged in. Constantly in a fit of giggles or telling stories about a certain moth overlord.

Angel and you exchanged numbers after that interaction and the rest was history.

From that moment on you and Angel were texting almost everyday despite if you saw each other.

Texting turned into routine late night phone calls and occasional hang outs outside of work.

Sure, Angel would slip into his flirty persona every so often, but you had a way of bringing who he really was out.

And to Angel, it was scary, but it also felt amazing. To have somebody see him.

But Angel had walls he had built up over years and years that he had worked hard to keep stable and it would take time to tear those down.

It took time to build trust and to know you were there for no ill intent, just to be his friend and enjoy his company.

To be there for who he was and not who he had been made to be.

It was a long process getting Angel to open up to you, for you to tear down the brick walls he had surrounded himself in.

To Angel, it felt like you had done it so easily. It felt like you could see right through him!

Did Angel feel those fuzzy bubbly feelings towards you because of this? Of course he did. Was he 100 percent going to ignore them? Absolutely.

Love isn’t easy, that’s what he always knew. Yet it felt so easy to love you and that slightly terrified him.

He tried to bury his feelings for you. He cared too much about your guys’ friendship to attempt to peruse anything romantic at first.

He appreciated the friendship you guys had too much for that.

So the beginning of what you guys had together was definitely a situationship in my eyes.

Mutual pining at its best baby.

However, gossip was popular in the studio. So if one person finds out about your crush on Angel, or his crush on you, EVERYONE knows.

Once the information gets back to either one of you, depending on who got outed, you guys talk it out and decide to give a relationship a shot.

You guys aren’t really fond on telling other sinners your an item,

(Can you imagine if that information got out to Valentino?? Oh boy-)

But you most definitely aren’t ashamed to be with each other. Angel LOVES romance. He’s a sucker for it.

Cheesy love notes, bouquets of flowers, chocolates, dates, picnics, movie nights, etc.

Any mushy gushy thing on the list is all there babes.

One of Angel’s love languages is quality time. So while you guys aren’t particularly all over each other at the studio, any moment in private together you have is cherished.

Whether it’s sitting in comfortable silence cuddling with you or going out to a club together, spending time with you is important to him.

Regarding Angel’s job, you understand it’s still something he has to do. While you’re not a fan on how he’s treated, he is under a soul binding contract. There was nothing you could really do about that.

Besides, you worked for the V’s as well. It was a sticky situation.

You could only be there for him as he was there for you. Through the ups and downs that the Overlords put you two through, you guys supported each other the best you could.

Now, the thought of marriage to Angel had popped up in his head a few times. It honestly gave him the jitters.

A sort of nervous excitement. Intense anxiety that he couldn’t place in the category of positive or negative.

He knew he loved you of course. More than anything. He’d sell his soul all over again if it were for you.

But in the back of his mind, he couldn’t shake the thought of this all being too good to be true. You were in Hell after all. Couldn’t all be cupcakes and rainbows.

Communication was important in your guys’ relationship, so Angel did bring up this topic to you once or twice.

You could always tell how much it stressed Angel out whenever he brought up the topic, assuming it made him wildly uncomfortable.

You always made sure to reassure him that no matter what, you would be his, even if you didn’t wear a pretty halo on your finger to represent that.

And each time you gave your reassurance, he would cover your face with kisses, showering you in affections for your understandings.

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

When Angel told you about moving into Charlie Morningstar’s little hotel, you were a bit skeptical. But hey, anything was better than staying with the V’s 24/7.

It was a sort of escape. Of course you didn’t take the Princess’s cause too seriously, but she gave the both of you a place to crash rent free, so you played nice.

Besides, the hotel was a place you and Angel could be more open about your guys’ relationship. It opened a new world you guys didn’t have back at the studio’s in a toxic work environment.

It felt more domestic. It felt comforting. It was more private and intimate for you guys. It felt like the two of you were taking your relationship to the next level.

But moving was a hassle.

Having to haul all of yours and Angel’s belongings into one hotel room seemed impossible and was exhausting.

Especially with Angel’s extensive wardrobe and his pampered pigs lavish lifestyle.

(Seriously, that pig had a bedazzled water bowl)

You had just arrived back at the hotel from grabbing the last of your belongings.

Hauling the box down the hallway, your door feeling like it was getting further away as you dragged your feet down the extensive hallway.

You fish your key out of your pocket while balancing the box against the wall and atop your knee, trying not the drop it.

You fiddle with the lock, slowly turning the key counterclockwise, then pushing down the door handle. You bump the door open with your hip, letting the box crash to the floor with unintended aggression.

Looking around the room, you’re confused when you don’t see your partner right away, he was meant to be at the hotel still. Perhaps he was downstairs and you had missed him.

You close the door but hear the sound of paper crinkling and soft crunching.

Your heart nearly skips a beat when you see Fat Nuggets on your shared bed, eating fresh flowers that were laid there. He’s clearly enjoying himself, not a care in the world as he munched away at the beautiful bouquet that was no doubt meant for you. It had all your favorites arranged beautifully while Fat Nuggets saw it as a free buffet.

You’re quick to wrap your hand around the pigs torso, pulling him back from the bouquet. You grab the greenery with your other hand, lifting it off the bed away from the troublemaker, who was letting out dissatisfied squeals, upset he didn’t get to finish his snack.

You scold the pig, looking at the damage he had done to the gift your lover had gotten you. You frown a bit, feeling bad that it was a bit ruined, but nonetheless, your heart melts at the gesture. Seeing as Angel went out of his way to get you a gift with no special occasion in mind.

The pig squirms in your hand, that’s when you notice something foreign around his neck. Anxiety shoots through you and you’re quick to drop the flowers, trying to coax the pig into allowing you to take off whatever was on him.

Fat Nuggets put up a bit of a fight, annoyed at the sudden tussle you had started with him, but you succeeded in pulling off the piece of twine that was wrapped around his neck. Once it’s off, you release him, mumbling an apology to the pig as he retreats to his plush pet bed.

You sigh, adrenaline high falling as you hold the piece of twine in your hands. You look down at it, assuming it was part the bouquet he was feasting on.

When examining it, you see a piece of silver/gold tied in the middle. You pick up the band, twisting it to look at it from each angle. When it dawns on you what it actually is, you don’t have time to react.

Your lover is now walking into the room, holding a bag of your guys’ favorite takeout in one hand and a gift box in his lower set of arms. His phone is pressed up against his ear with his one free hand and you can hear Cherri’s voice booming from the other side of the phone.

The two of you make eye contact and it becomes an intense staring contest for what feels like the rest of eternity. Cherri’s screaming fading into background noise while Angel’s face contorts into panic as he sees the display in front of him.

Torn flowers, a very grumpy pig in the corner, and ring gripped in your hand as if you were trying to hide the fact that you knew what was happening.

Without breaking his gaze from you, Angel hung up on Cherri. He finally looks away from you, trying to find anything to relieve the tension in the room.

“Soo.. uhh.. how much did Nugs tell ya?”

He asks nervously, sitting down next to you on the bed.

You stare at him dumbfounded for a moment.

Was he making a joke now of all times??

You can’t help but grin and snort, covering your mouth. You smack him lightly before laughing at what he had said. Tension completely melting away by your lovers remark.

Angel relaxes and smiles, adrenaline in his body still running high. He sets down the food he had brought in on the bedside table and the gift box on the ground.

He gently grabs your hand that held the ring tied in with twine, causing your laughter to calm down. You slowly open your hand, revealing the piece of jewelry. Angel slowly takes it from you.

Realization of what is happening dawns on this man WAY too late. He fidgets with the ring, trying to undo the twine from it, his fingers trembling slightly. He swears under his breath while trying to explain himself.

He stumbles over his words, explaining how this subject had been a constant in his mind for a long time now.

He knew you had said you would be fine without a ring, but he wanted to get you something special for staying with him. A symbol on your finger that you would always be his, whether you be near or far.

He didn’t want to be with anyone else. It was you and it was always going to be you.

His proposal was slightly awkward, butchered, and god was it cheesy.

But it didn’t fail to make you emotional. It was so intimate and personal. Despite it not going quite as Angel had planned, it was perfect in your eyes.

If you could have hearts in your eyes, you totally would

Angel fidgeted with the ring, unsure on what to say next. He started to ramble a bit, saying something along the lines of if it was too soon he would totally understand.

Which you respond by quickly plucking the ring away from him, and sliding it onto your finger. He looks at you, blinking a few times before blushing brightly at your acceptance.

You chuckle at his reaction, gently holding one set of his hands, and pressing a gentle kiss against his lips.

Angel melts into you, reciprocating your embrace and cupping up your face in his other set of hands.

You smile, leaning into your lover. Feeling absolutely enveloped by adoration.

Before the two of you can fall too much into each others embrace, you’re interrupted by the sound of curious snorts and snuffs.

The two of you pull away from each other, looking down to see Fat Nuggets with his head in the gift box Angel had brought into the room. His curled tail wagging away excitedly as if the gift was for him.

Angel bolts up, quickly lifting up the pet pig who lets out an alarmed squeal. You can’t help but laugh as Angel scolds Nugs, who had spoiled another surprise your partner had set out for you today.

Yeah.. this was something you could definitely get used to.

[echobx]

the one with the letter - jj maybank × ex!fem!reader

summary: you have to figure out if your love for JJ is stronger than what the world throws at you

warnings: Luke..., hurt/comfort, angsty, happy ending

word count: 2k

author's note: part 3 bc I had to. it didn't feel right to let you guys hanging. and no matter how much I try to write a JJ fic that doesn't have a happy ending, it just doesn't work. he always finds a way. he's one persistent bbg.

part 1 | part 2

The two days that you are supposed to stay in bed and focus on getting better feel like a month to you. Going back to school feels even worse. Everyone seems to have their eyes pinned on you, to the point where you find yourself hiding in the photo lab to avoid everyone and everything for just the half hour that is your lunchtime. But yet again you aren't granted the simplicity of loneliness when you need it most.

“Jesus, y/n!” Pope jumps and nearly drops his camera in the process. “What are you doing here?” “Hiding,” you reply, looking up at him and his sad smile. “Why?” “Because everyone hates me. I get it. I'd hate myself too,” you whisper, and he crouches down by your side. “I don't hate you,” he shakes his head, and you close your eyes to focus. He should hate you. You keep on hurting his best friend. He should definitely hate you. He places the camera on the floor next to him before sighing. “Love's messy.” “No, that's just me,” you say, picking at your nails. “I'm the problem.” “You're allowed to feel sad or hurt or anything,” he whispers and takes your hand in his. “I'm glad you're better. JJ was losing his mind when your mom kicked him out. And he's not much better now either. Refused to come to school because you didn't reply to his letter.” Your head perks up, and you furrow your brows, blinking a few times. “Letter?” “Yeah, the letter he left you at the hospital,” Pope explains, but your confused expression lets it dawn on him that you had never known about a letter. “There's no letter. I don't have a letter,” you insist, and he runs his hand over his face. “Shit,” he hisses silently, and you stand up, heart pounding when you reach for your bag and pull it over your shoulder. “I have to go,” you mumble, and even though he tries to stop you, you won't let him.

You curse your mom on the whole way down to the Cut, and it's a long way, but you don't stop. You can't. When you arrive at the Shack, you can hear them screaming, it's not unlike what you had witnessed before. But this time you don't stop and wait for it to die down a little before walking in. “You're an ungrateful bastard!” Luke yells, but as soon as he sees you, he stops and a mean smile plays on his face. “Haven't seen that one in a while. Why are you here? He knock you up?” Luke taunts and you swallow hard. “Don't talk about her like that,” JJ snaps at him, taking a step closer to his dad. His fists are balled and the knuckles bruised. “She's a bitch just like her mama,” Luke spits and JJ lunges forward, but he's pushed back instantly. You try to focus on your breathing to not lose yourself in the pain that is flooding your body as you watch him get hurt.

“Let go!” you scream from the top of your lungs, and for some reason they stop to look at you. One step forward as you glare at Luke, and he drops JJ to the floor, a shallow thump tells you that his head hit the wood not so softly. But you can't drag your eyes off Luke, if you do, he wins. “You don't get to tell me what to do in my own house, Missy,” he glares, but you take another step closer, your eye twitching. “I'm not afraid of you,” you hiss, and he scoffs, but you don't give him enough time to come up with a comment. “You're nothing but a drunk, child beating asshole. You don't deserve him. And it's baffling to me how someone like you was capable of fucking up so massively, but he still turned out better than anyone I've ever met. And I know I don't deserve him either, but at least I don't make him feel like shit just for being born.” Luke swallows, looking down at JJ. “If she's not gone by the time I get back, you can look for a new home, boy.”

It feels like a million tons are lifted off your chest when you hear the screen door hit against the wood and the engine of his truck start and drive off. “You shouldn't have done that,” JJ shakes his head as you turn to him. He has a cut on his lip and his right eye is starting to slowly swell up. “You're hurt,” you whisper and reach up to touch his cheek, but he turns away. “Why are you here? Wanna rip my heart out a third time?” There's resentment in his voice, but you get stuck on his counting. What was the second time? “I came to ask something. Something important,” you whisper, but it has escaped your mind. The condition he is in feels worse to you than before. It's like a repetitive gut punch paired with slaps to your face, but your pain wasn't physical, it was all in your head. “Can I please take care of you?” you beg, and he swallows but nods.

The bathroom is a mess, just like the whole house, but you don't care, you never did. It makes sense to you. It was one of the reasons why JJ had always felt more at home at your home than his own. It was the reason, why you rather stayed at the Château together than at his or at yours, where you'd always run the risk of your mom kicking him out. You clean his cuts and softly press the cold, wet washcloth to his eye. Although you haven't patched him up in months, it feels like no time has passed since the last time. “Thank you,” JJ whispers and takes the washcloth from your hand to hold onto it by himself. “Why did you say I was going to break your heart a third time?” you ask tentatively, sitting down on the closed toilet opposite of him, while his hand clasps around the edge of the tub he's sitting on. “I didn't wanna make you feel worse about it. It wasn't my choice to make. And it was too late already, so it didn't matter. But it hurt, it still hurts,” he mumbles without looking at you. “I keep having this nightmare- it's not really a nightmare, I guess. But when I wake up, I feel worse, and I wish the dream was real instead of my actual life.” “What happens in your dream?” you whisper. “You never leave me, we- we have the kid, and it's not easy, but it's happy. It feels warm and it doesn't hurt. And then I wake up, and it's just painful. It hurts so much, y/n.” “I'm sorry,” you apologize, but you know it's not enough. You know it won't undo all the pain you caused him. “And now you're here to tell me what? That I need to move on? Find someone better?” JJ's eyes find yours, and it feels like getting stabbed while someone keeps twisting the knife.

“Pope said you wrote me a letter,” you start, and he rolls his eyes. “So you talk to him but not me?” “JJ, listen to me,” you grab his face with both of your hands, forcing him to look at you. “I never got it. I was alone, and she said she told you to leave, and then you didn't text me. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me after that night, that's why I didn't text you either. But I don't know about any letter. I mean, I didn't even know it existed before Pope found me in the photo lab and told me, and then I ran here immediately. I'm sorry.” You take a deep breath, and he searches your face, and for once you're not even lying to yourself anymore. “I was scared is all, that's why I wrote it,” he shrugs his shoulders, and you drop your hands down to your thighs. “What did it say?” “That I wish I could turn back time and make you feel more loved than I did. That I hate seeing you smile at that jerk. That I- That I don't want to ever lose you again. You scared me so much, and I don't know why you ran after him, and then you fell, and I wasn't fast enough, I couldn't stop your fall. And I felt like I lost you for good, forever, and John B drove like a maniac, and it wasn't fast enough. And then they didn't let me stay with you at first, and I had to sit there while they did all those tests, and they didn't tell me shit. I wanted to stay, wait until you woke up but- Your mom said it was my fault, and I believed her. Because it's always my fault. So I wrote it down, how much I do love you but that it's not gonna work because it can't be, she's right. And I asked her to give it to you. I promised to stay away if she would just give you the letter. Because I couldn't- I thought you were dead, and I was ready to end it too, if it meant I could be with you. I know that's stupid, but that's how I felt. And now you know, and you can leave, because you should leave. I'm not good for you, I never was, and you knew that, that's why you left me,” he finishes his venting, but you have no words left in you. There was nothing you could say that would make it better because words were not enough to encompass how you feel.

You lean forward, brushing the palm of your hand over his cheek before holding onto it and placing a soft kiss on his lips. He tastes like beer and blood, a weird mix, but a familiar one at that. “What are you doing?” JJ whispers against your lips, but you kiss him again. And he kisses you back, cautiously slow. “I'm not gonna leave ever again, I promise,” you whisper, and he looks into your eyes, pain and anxiety still prevalent in his own. “Are you sure?” he asks, brushing through your hair with his free hand. “Positive. We can get our own place, just you and me. Maybe that'll make it easier,” you smile and he nods. “I'm very sorry for what I did,” you apologize again. “I made Kie write those notes. She didn't want to. Said you don't deserve it after all,” he mumbles. “They don't know about- You know…” “I didn't tell anyone either,” you admit and he nods.

“You stood up to my dad,” JJ chuckles. “That was incredibly stupid, you know that, right?” “Yeah, but he deserves it,” you press your face into his chest. His bed, his arms, all of it makes you feel more alive than anything you had done the past months. “You really don't think you deserve me? You know I'm nothing but a weed smoking delinquent, right?” “Who said that?” you pull away to look at him. “Guess,” he snorts, and you furrow your brows in anger. “I hate her. That's the only thing he was right about. She is a bitch,” you exhale the anger over your own mother. “What'ya think happened between them two?” JJ wonders and you sigh. “My mom being my mom, and Luke being Luke…, I'm guessing nothing pretty.”

“I love you, y/n. And I don't think I'll ever stop, no matter how hard it gets,” JJ whispers and kisses the top of your head. “It's gonna be pretty hard, knowing you,” you giggle, and he fakes a gasp. “I see how it is. First, you steal my heart, then my jokes.” “I learned from the best,” you grin at him and he kisses you. It feels like the very first time. Exciting and with millions of butterflies in your stomach, and at the same time it's a forever kiss. It's a promise that you won't break, because you finally understand that you can't be without him. “I love you, too, J,” you hush against his lips, and he smiles into another kiss.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist:@ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimozart

[christinebloodwrittings]

Something exactly like this.

Here we start a new series, at last I regained my love for writing n' reading 🥰

I have no idea how to write Hobie's accent, so apologies for that in advance. Any input and advise is well welcomed ☺️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mention of blood, injuries, fighting, cursing, anxiety.

Words: 2022

Chapter one: What else you got?

"When will you ever grow up?! Going against our path, is going against the family!" My father yelled, speaking about his religion and how I refused to believe in his insanity while punching the table to accentuate his anger.

"Then maybe I was never really a part of this shit family!" A smack on the face, it came from across my step mother that had entered the conversation, "Never come back, insufferable brat" she spit at me.

I had had it with them, so I flipped them off and left with a duffle bag on my shoulder.

As soon as I arrived to the train station and took seat inside the train, my heart broke, tears streamed down my face, like a wild river I tried to hold back when I looked the disappointment in my father's eyes.

Let's start from the beginning, my name is Y/n L/n, and it's been two weeks since I moved to the big city. A friend got me a job on a coffee shop and a small flat near it, without her I would've slept on the streets probably, so I owe her a lot.

Every day is the same! It's going to drive me crazy. I make the minimum for attending crazy fucked up people! Every day is the same compalints, some about the damm prices, the ice cream flavors, the fact that not always we have cash to break a 20, bitch come on, who buys a two dollar coffee with 20 or 100 bucks?? Seriously, people are crazy, and they take it on me just because I'm on the counter almost all the time.

I'm fucking tired.

Then one night, I was doing inventory when Jess, on the subject that I owe her a lot, she practically begged me to accompany her to a very illegal show downtown, on a sketchy bar no less. "I don't know Jess, those shows aren't really my thing, neither is a lot of people on a confined space" you shrugged, "Come on Y/n, my boyfriend is playing the bass, but I don't wanna go alone, maybe I could even present you to a few people, so you have friends, other than me" I looked at her with a stern look, that was the least of my concerns.

"It's just...you look so lonely and sad all the time, maybe you could have some fun, ya' know, to loosen up the stress from work" before she could keep blabbering reasons to go, I caved. "Fine" she yelled a high pitched "Yay" and hugged me.

It's amazing how easy is to get killed in the city nowadays, my first couple of days working I got shocked with how many corpses I encountered as soon as I opened my apartment door, but then I got used to it? I don't throw up as much as before, so that's a start.

But everything is so messy right now, with V.E.N.O.M tasks forces roaming the streets, people instead of being scared, they've become violent. I have no idea how Jess can be so hyped about a show when there's like an 80% chance we'll get killed in the process.

But hey, YOLO right?

Since it was a punk event, she wanted me to "blend in", as to not dress as a total nerd like I always do according to her. So we stopped at her apartment to get ready.

She lend me a plaid mini skirt, mid thigh stockings, a learher jacket that ended mid torso, a dark red shirt with a weird spider logo, a spiky choker and did a very goth or punk-like work on my face.

I didn't recognized myself, but I didn't quite hated it either.

Black boots with chains completed the look according to her, "Ya' look stunnin', honey" she squealed, coming out of the bathroom ready herself, wearing all things similar to mine, with the addition of a oversized denim jacket filled with band related pins and patches.

"Your boyfriend's, I suppose" she turned back to me, blushed slightly, "He gifted this to me, he's so cool and corny, I love him so much".

I am jealous of her. Her boyfriend has stopped by work a few times, he's tough but nice and very likeable. I could tell he would go to hell and back for her.

I was so fucking jealous of that.

The place wasn't really far from my apartment, which would allow me to slip away in case I needed it, oh boy, not even two seconds inside and I already wanted to run away.

It was a mess of all kinds of black dressed people, like the pride parade but goth, punk and violently weird. Jess seemed to be fine around the mess, she was a natural, totally in her element.

There was this feeling climbing up my spine, weakening my knees and my lungs, anxiety making her debut.

"C'mon let's get to the front before they start playin', otherwise we won't be able to see shit!" She pulled me across the sea of leather and spikes, I sensed a lot of stares and wolf whistles, probably not for me, but it felt so alien to me.

The group made its introduction, the crowd wildly started screaming and jumping, shoving us against the fence that kept us away from the stage. The amps to the limit, and the people jumping and shoving, everything begun to spin, in a haze I believed myself to be drunk but totally sober, "Jess! I wanna leave" I tried to scream but she couldn't hear me. Couldn't move either, trapped in between the fence I could only close my eyes in hopes the pain in my ears and my chest would end soon.

A hand took mine, out of a sudden I was on the other side of the fence. Due to the momentum I clashed against a bunch of pins and chains, "Follow me" He said, not ever letting my hand go, he lead me backstage, where the sound of the still going music and cheering was a bit muffled, barely bearable.

"Better?" I looked up to him, he had a wild black mane, piercings on his brows and his lower lip, stunning factions and he was built amazingly. "Yeah, sorry about the trouble" he chuckled at my embarrassment, "S' nothin', stay here all you need" he winked and rushed back to the stage, the screaming intensified as soon as he did.

A while later, Jess got to the backstage by the arm of her boyfriend, "Oh, honey I'm so sorry, are you feeling okay now?" I shook my head, hugging myself in absolute embarrassment. "'m gonna head back, sorry" she held me as soon as I was about to leave, "First, your knight in denim armor, Hobie I can't thank you enough" she thank him.

So that was his name, Hobie.

"No problem, that was a bad edge" his accent was so thick that's all I got to hear him say. "Hobie we need to scram, they are on their way, get the explosives" said none other than Jess's boyfriend, "Another raid? But babe" she whined, not caring about the sudden violence about to be unleashed apparently.

"Jess we need to leave, now!" I tried to take her away, but she resisted and shoved my hand away from hers, "I'm actually gonna stay for this one, Spider-Man might actually appear this time" She excitedly left with her boyfriend.

How could she just left when there was going to be another raid outside?! "Why today, I knew I shouldn't have come to this stupid thing!" Searching routes, but nothing came to mind, the sound of the tasks forces was loud, and the one from the rebellion was even more so.

Everything went down because of Oscorp taking over, then Spider-Man showed up to shake up the masses into a furious rebellion, it bothered me tat the rebels acted as if the destruction, the purchase of weapons from gangsters, and the eternal bustle, would change the fact that V.E.N.O.M had almost completely taken over the streets. The rebellion regained territory in the last assault, but in that hell several young people died, and not even Spider-Man could do anything about it.

Usually I don't get into that shit, because for fun I rather go dancing at the club, though I admit I threw a Molotov at a task forces's car, once the opportunity presented itself.

When I got out, everything was smoke, explosions, people running, crying and shouting with hate. The alley that led to the passage where I would hopefully make it to my apartment was across the fire. I plucked up my courage and ran, a little difficult because of the platforms on my shoes, the damn mini skirt, and because of the shooting that started when I managed to jump over the puddle of burning gasoline.

I fell and hit all the cement on my legs and arms, I got up quickly because the adrenaline was stronger than the bullet that grazed my knee, so I managed to take refuge in the back of the building.

"Where you think you goin' bitch" A cop grabbed my arm, seeing that I resisted him the baton on his other hand hit the back of my knees and then I had no other choice but to fall, the cut on my knee bleeding even more, but I couldn't feel it yet.

He rises the baton to hit me again, but it got swooped off his hand, in about a second that same cop was literally mummified to the wall, all covered in spider webs.

"You okay?" Red and blue suit, spikes on the head of the mask, denim jacket and boots, yeah a hero alright. "Peachy" He just saved me, but the bitterness from my friend bailing on me, the recent anxiety attack, the raid, the pulsing wound that I made the mistake of acknowledge, and the posible bruise from the baton, got to me pretty fast.

"Go save the others, I'm fine" he didn't moved, instead he stretched his hand towards me, "Let me take you some'ere safe first" normally I would've sent him to hell itself, but taking everything into consideration, I ended up agreeing.

As soon as I took his hand, he pulled me up and into his arms. He secured my waist with his arm, "By the green building is alright" he nodded then fired his web, without warning he took flight, taking an even firmer grasp on my waist.

Meanwhile I hid my face on his neck and yelled a bit.

As soon as we landed I shoved myself off of his grasp, clinging to the fire stairs railing for dear life, "Bit nauseous there love?" He joked, "A warning would've been appreciated" I swallowed the bit of puke that threatened the back of my throat, "But thanks, I'll take it form here".

My knees quivered when trying to make a decent step, the pulsing hurt behind my legs, "Ya' sure?" He asked, getting at a safe distance from my pathetic state, "Yeah, now aren't you needed elsewhere?" He slightly laughed at my embarrassment, "That can wait, they were holding it up, a'right" I could hear his smile under that mask.

"Need help there, love?" He offered, making it sound more like a tease, his hand reaching towards me once more, "I'll be careful" He promised. I caved again, after all, I lived in the eighth floor.

"Now we're good, night spiderman" I tried to close the door but he stopped it with his combat boots, "What" he stayed silent for a second, "Not even a kiss?" He joked? I couldn't tell because of the mask, then he just leaned on the doorframe. I genuinely laughed, like I haven't in a while, "Thanks for the laugh, maybe next time you save me, I'll give you that kiss, how's that?" He tilted his head a bit, like thinking, then just nodded.

I think he was about to say something, but an explosion on the raid site got to his attention, "I think you're needed" When I turned my head around he had already left.

[icystorm76]

Lauren’s commentary

I’m forcing my sister to watch IWTV and her commentary is genuinely hilarious. She accused me of posting her comments somewhere, then gave me permission to do exactly that. So here you go, her comments on episode 3. (She’s never read the books)

About Raglan James

“Is he a vampire? Is he Vampire ex boyfriend?(When asked why she thinks that) “He seems the type, you know? Like he would judge them then sleep with them.” (I reiterate that she’s never read the books, I guess Daniel just radiates vampire fucker vibes. She just guessed the completely wrong guy)

“Why is he trying to be on the phone? Is he actually one the phone? What is he doing? Oh shit, I missed something, rewind”

“Are you posting my commentary somewhere?” (I am now, lol)

“Hehehe, raglan”

“I can’t see what he’s writing! Milf? Is that what he wrote?”

In the library with Armand

“OH MY GOD HES FLOATING”

“Do you think he has nudes on that computer?”

“I know they’re vampires but does their architecture have to be so brutalist?”

“His bone structure is snatched. I hate his eyes though”

“Of course YOU do” (In response to me saying I like the eyes)

Paris (Armand’s narration)

“OH MY GOD, did he turn Lestat”

“So he’s into bondage?”

“There are laws?!”

“So he has fire powers”

“Hehe, you’re ugly and I hate you, fuck off and die abuser” (she’s not a big fan of Lestat)

“Boo, tomato tomato tomato!”

“The only thing I like about Lestat is his voice”

“Are all vampires gay?”

“Hehehe, the way he’s standing there.”

*Awful French accent* “LeSTOT!”

“Ah, so the abused becomes the abuser. You’re perpetuating bad stereotypes there”

“Oh god Lestat, I hate you. Where Louis?”

“Armand and Lestat, sitting in at tree A-b-u-s-i-n-g. First comes hitting, then comes throwing, then comes dropping Louis out of the sky!”

“Yep, still hate him”

“Oh he cray cray”

“You know what? I hate both these people and they deserve each other”

“Oh my god Lestat you messy bitch”

“Diabolical!!!”

“Ewww, get a room”

Paris (with Louis and Armand)

“Hell yeah, welcome back Pookie”

“I fucking hate him. How do you like these people?”

“How have they now been hatecrimed yet? Like come on guys! I’ve lost faith in Paris’s homophobia” (My sister is a lesbian btw)

“He can read your thoughts Buddy”

(When Lestat starts singing) “AH AH AH PAUSE IT *full body contortions as off possessed by Saten* I didn’t think it was possible to have a physical reaction to an Ick. Oh my god I had a full body reaction to that. I feel violated. I feel really and truly violated.”

“LeTHOT”

“OH MY GOD IM CHOKING. WHAT IS THAT ANGLE”

“No, because the images of Lestat looks like those cameras that make you look like you’re walking on a really tiny world”

“Why is this episode called No Pain. All they do is give each other pain”

“Pause it, no stop, rewind. You’re at a 10, I need it to not exist. LeTHOT, what are you doing? I’m so disappointed. I mean, I knew this was a show about the awareness of Stockholm syndrome, but I didn’t know it would this bad. Every day I walk outside and I think life is great then I come back inside and you make me watch tho shit. I need you to get your lips off of him. I don’t think I can continue”

“This using, love, OH, thank you, keep going, this is better than porn” (while Louis is murdering “Lestat”)

“OH, Real Rashid, by babe!”

“There’s so many files”

“They have a curfew?!”

“You mean the one where Lestat abused you? Because it kinda seems like Armand is going to do the same”

“They got that at home goods, didnt they?”

“Oh, wow. but Daniel’s not a Vampire, so he doesn’t count”

“Uh, wellllllllllllllll”

“Side note, I love that the vampires can’t age but you can tell Louis’ getting older because he parts his hair like a balding middle aged man”

“Thought that when they kissed that it would be like that scene in despicable me 2 when their noses bumped and stopped them from kissing”

[bosinclairsgff]

Haii I saw you fix about slashers seeing ur sh

Scars and I have a request can u write Otis driftwood catching her Relapse

And he also finds out that she has also been struggling with an eating disorder

And can it also have smut in it :3

(Nf) Ur my fav slasher writer luv ya bye :D

Otis Driftwood x reader

Warnings: self harm, eating disorder, nsfw, cussing, abuse

A/n thank you for the kind words! Hope you like this. It’s messy I fear. I’m bad at writing smut IM SORRY. But I hope it’s good enough. I luv you too!!!! Also idk what your or you’re to use idc at this point.

You had tried so hard, you really did but life with Otis isn’t always easy to cope with. That’s why you relapsed. Cutting was the only way you knew to get some relief from the pain. But you had promised Otis to stop it. That’s why you’ve been avoiding him and making excuses not to be touched on your upper arms. But tonight that would all change.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Come here girl” Otis shouts downstairs. You quickly make your way to his room. “What is it?” You ask. “Take your shirt off.” He states. You freeze and try to think of an excuse fast. “I’m tired Otis I’m not in the mood for this I’m sorry.” You say. He walks closer and points his finger at you. “Take off your fucking shirt right fucking now!” He yells. Shaking your head in response you take a step back. Otis pulls his knife out and pulls you by your wrist. Before you could get away he cuts your shirt off your body. As it falls off you, you quickly cover your upper arms. “Otis stop!” You scream. “What did I fucking say about doing stupid shit like cutting yourself huh!? You want to feel fucking pain, huh bitch? Is that what you want?” He slaps you across your face. You fall to the floor letting your hands catch you. He crotches down to your level and holds your chin in his hand. “I know you haven’t been eating either. So not only did you not listen about cutting but you started to fuckin starve yourself. You dumb bitch.” He lets go of your chin. “I-I’m sorry Otis please I’m sorry.” You whimper out. Otis stands tall above you, looking down. “If I catch you cutting one more fucking time. One more time. I’ll skin you alive. Got it?” He says calmly. You nod your head as you start to silently cry at his threat. Otis lifts you up by one of your arms. He kisses you softly. “Stop fucking cryin. You’re fine.” He states while wiping away your tears. “I…thought you liked to see me cry.” You say in a shaky tone. He chuckles slightly. “I do mama but when I’m balls deep inside you.” He says with a smirk on his face. Your face turns a dark shade of pink. Otis leans down and kisses you roughly while bringing his hand up to your throat. Pressing just enough to make it hard to breathe. He backs you up until the back of your knees hit the bed, making you sit down. “Take off your underwear mama.” He states. You hesitate for a second but then do as he says, sliding them off. He starts to quickly take his jeans off along with his boxers. Your eyes widen, he’s already completely hard. Otis laughs when he sees your eyes widen. Pushing you down fully on the bed, crawling in between your legs. “You ready mama?” He whispers. You nod and let out a slight whimper. He lines himself up and slowly pushes in. You let out a small gasp, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his length. Otis lets out a small groan. “You’re always so tight mama.” He says in a low voice. Then he bottoms out, staying still for a moment. Then he takes himself almost fully out before he slams back into you. You let out a loud whimper and he laughs. Keeping with his brutal pace. He’s hands go to grip your stomach. “Fuck girl you’ve lost to much weight, gotta get some meat on your fucking bones.” Otis whispers in your ear. You moan in response. That only makes him be rougher. Pounding into at an ungodly pace. “Fuck mama…feel so fucking good.” He growls. He doesn’t slow down. The sounds your bodies make filling the whole room. Whimpers, whines and moans. Otis pulls out and flips you over on your stomach. He grabs you roughly and easily slide back in continuing his brutal pace. “Otis! Too much wait!” You yelp. He doesn’t listen and goes even faster. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as the pleasure was just to much. “Fuck girl at this pace Imma cum in minute. God you are such a fucking slut, did you know that?” You whimper in response. When you don’t answer he grabs a fist full of your hair pulling your head back. “I asked you a god damn question bitch now answer!” He states. “Yes, yes I’m a slut yes!” You answer in a whiny voice. Otis laughs in response. “Otis I’m gonna…I can’t take it.” You whimper out. He grunts in response. “Cum for me mama.” He says in a husky voice. Otis uses one of his hands and starts to rub your sensitive bud. That sends you over the breaking point. He feels you tighten all around him, which makes his release follow quickly behind you. He lets both of you catch your breath before he slowly pulls out. You whine in response making him chuckle.

[b4tasquad]

can you write smth abt late night drives listening to music with niko 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 thank u bae

“You need to stop stressing”

That was easy for him to say, you thought. Your boyfriend stood expectantly over your figure, hands on his hips as it seemed like he waited for you to just throw away everything you were doing.

“My Exam’s are in 3 days, but yeah let me just chill.” Your sarcastic reply doesn’t phase him, and instead he actually lets out a little chuckle.

“You’ve been working nonstop for weeks!” He reminds you. “So yeah, you do need to chill a little.”

“Niko.” You warn, as you watch him pick up your textbooks, and close your computer. “What are you doing.”

Not answering, he neatly places them on your bedside table. You just blankly look at him as he takes a hold of your hands, dragging you out of bed. Letting him lead you downstairs, you finally stop to question him.

“Where are you taking me.”

He puts on his shoes that had been discarded besides the door. “Out.”

“Niko-”

“You have to go out at some point.” Your boyfriend is persistent, and as Aj walks past you from the kitchen, he stops him. “Hey! AJ tell her.”

“Tell her what?” The shorter boy questions, looking between the two of you.

“That she needs to get out of the house and stop being in her room 24/7

“I’m not in my room 24/7!” You tried to defend yourself, feeling a little offended at what he was saying.

Aj does not agree with you. “Niko please take her out of this house. Preferably take her for a swim. It’s starting to smell a little… musty .” He says, hands coming to hold at his nose as he takes a few steps back.

“Fuck you bitch.”

Putting on your slippers, you follow your boyfriend to his car, a little pout on your face at their jabs at you. Your boyfriend, the annoying guys he is kisses your lips and reverses out of the driveway.

You stop him as he’s about to play something. “You dragged me out here, the least you could do is give me the aux.” He only rolls his eyes, but ultimately let’s you play shuffle on your playlist.

The second “I ain’t worried” by The weeknd starts playing, you and Niko glance at each other, little smiles erupting on both your faces.

The two of you sing, voices sounding awful.

You press down the button to pull the window down as the two of you continue to bolt out the lyrics to one of your favourite songs. Niko himself, was shouting the lyrics, eyes switching from the road and to your carefree figure.

With your hair up in the most frazzled updo, body clad in one of his hoodies and a pair of basketball shorts, you looked nothing but messy. But Niko had never loved you more than he did in this moment.

[luwritesomething]

read the thing you wrote abt mickey altieri 🥺🥺 i love that man so much. if i could, i was wondering if i could request something abt him? maybe something where the read has insomnia and he helps them actually sleep <33 only if you want, of course 🫶

Mickey Altieri x Reader: Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby.

Words: 1199

Warnings: mickey is a killer but reader doesn’t know that (however this is not what the fic is about). there are light mentions of anxiety, stress and pills (for headaches), i think there's swearing (bc it's me).

Summary: after a movie night with your boyfriend mickey, you don’t want to go to sleep.

Author's note: thank you so much for requesting, @altierirose!!! mickey will always have my heart, and he’s so fun to write for. i didn’t make this explicitly about insomnia, but reader does have trouble sleeping and that’s what this is about. no hate to dirty dancing, btw!!! (just a bit.) i'm giving you a follow bc there's not much people appreciating our boy... feel free to request whenever !!!! this is my attempt at not using "y/n" anymore.

Criticism is appreciated and request are open (except for the Wednesday fandom)! Hit that anon button and tell me your idea! You can see the character i write for HERE.

Every Friday night was reserved to you and Mickey since you two had started dating, some months after the beginning of your first college year. It had been agreed by the two of you, because you had soon realized that college life was messy, difficult and crowded; and a little bit of bonding time reserved for your relationship sounded like a good idea. Slowly, it escalated from cute little dates in the campus’ cafeteria to coffee shops outside the enclosure, until you two finally retreated to one plan and one plan only — movie night.

Fairly chosen, one week he was the one to choose one of his movies in between his precious collection, worthy of a Film student; and the next one you would choose, sometimes with better or worse criteria, but always having fun. Popcorn, candy and a blanket pulling you close together, his hand either around your shoulders or wrapped around your waist, letting you lean into him. It was a great plan for a Friday night.

This week it was your turn, and you had purposely chosen a movie that would piss off his movie buff extraordinare’s taste; something like Dirty Dancing. Mickey had bitched around for quite a while, not letting you hear the somewhat awful dialogues, but amusing you anyway because even if he could be annoying, Mickey was still funny and charming, in his own way.

The movie ended not too late, to Mickey’s relief, and as soon as the credits rolled in your little TV he jumped out of the bed with the empty bowl of popcorn in his hands, while he roasted the movie like it had personally offended him.

“It just makes no sense.” He said, putting the bowl in the only table you and your roommate had in your shared dorm. Your friend had always been kind and comprehensive enough to allow you to have the dorm whenever Derek, Mickey’s roommate, didn’t want to leave his. Mickey turned to you, still in bed, with a wide grin. “And seriously, Baby? It’s just so unrealistic for someone to spend a whole summer being called Baby by everyone.”

“Mickey, it’s a movie.” You laughed quietly, your head cocking to the side. 

Mickey pointed at you with his index finger. “That’s not an excuse, and you know that.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Whatever.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that sight, and you watched him do so. Mickey looked really handsome when he laughed, as his face filled with joy and beaming happiness — you liked the way he enjoyed himself around you. It was something sweet.

“I’m dead.” Mickey was able to say as soon as he stopped laughing, exhaustion washing over him after a hard week. His body felt sore, you could tell by the way he crawled to your side in bed. His body next to yours, even on top of the sheets and blanket, felt so familiar. A smile was shot your way. “Let’s go to sleep, uh?”

Something inside you crumbled suddenly as soon as you saw him getting inside the bed, without bothering to look if you were doing the same because he thought it was rather obvious. It produced you a feeling close to anxiety, thinking about sleeping while you slid by his side — this week had been hard on both of you, but what had kicked your ass the most wasn’t assignments and classes, like it had happened to him, but sleep. 

A series of all-nighters the last week had thrown you off, and now your sleep schedule was messed up. You had laid in bed every night, eyes closed, waiting for Orpheus to sweep you out of the world and into sleeping, but it hadn’t happened — as much, an hour or two before your alarm went off you would fall slightly asleep, producing you low headaches that you had successfully avoided with a few pills.

“But it’s so early.” You said, and your voice went a little higher like it used to do whenever you lied, catching Mickey’s attention.

His eyes drifted to your alarm clock behind you, head tilted. “You’re not tired?”

“I am.” You sighed, and then you stuttered a bit, before confessing. “But… I haven’t been sleeping well. It’s– It’s silly.”

Mickey’s body language changed instantly. His back straightened, so he could sit up with it against the headboard, body turned to look at you and give you his full attention. His eyes scanned you slightly, making you look away in embarrassment — you were a grown adult, and not wanting to go to sleep without a good reason was childish, you knew. 

“Is this about the murders going on?” Mickey asked quietly, like someone else apart from you could hear him talking about the matter that had been hunting everyone in your circle for the last couple of weeks. Two people had been murdered in the new, based on real events, slasher’s opening night. “Because if it’s that, I can promise you, you have nothing to worry about.”

“No, it’s not that.” You shook your head, to prove your point, then just shrugged. Mickey watched you curiously, carefully. “I think I’m just too stressed. The exams, and all… College life isn’t as good as they paint it and, I don’t know, maybe I can’t take it.”

A beat of silence, then two, before Mickey’s brows furrowed together. “That’s bullshit.” It surprised you enough to not let you speak instantly, giving him time to speak first. “I mean, I understand you being stressed, it’s natural. But if you can’t take it, then no one can.”

“That’s not true.”

“But it is!” He insisted, seriousness written all over his face. You had only seen him this serious once or twice before, when he was passionately defending a horror movie from Randy’s criticism, and when he had asked you out for the first time. “I think you’re taking it all too seriously. You stress too much about every single test and—”

“But it is serious, Mickey.” You interrupted softly, wrapping your arms around your knees for comfort. “I can’t slow down.”

“It shouldn’t take your sleep away.” He retorted. His hand reached out for you, comfortably squeezing once. “You’re doing great. I mean that. But you need to chill.”

Nodding slightly, your gaze fell down and away from him, processing his words. The silence settled between you, but Mickey needed to know what you were thinking — not anymore to have the upperhand, but because he was worried, and if there was something pure in him, that was his love for you. 

His hand left yours to barely graze your chin, lifting your head and gaze up. “Is that all of it?” Mickey asked softly. His eyes shone. “Nothing more on your mind?”

“That’s all.” You muttered, nodding slightly. He gave you a smile.

“Wanna go to sleep now?” 

Once again you nodded, and you two slid inside the bed. He switched off the lights and his arm surrounding your waist and pulling you closer didn’t startle you. Mickey didn’t fall asleep until you did, surrendering yourself to the calm circles Mickey rubbed onto your back and his even breathing close to you.