#no signal in this bitch so I have to walk all the way outside to call my friend to pick me up

[pinolitas]

Orville peck on tour but if I've learned anything about gays and this specific venue it's that I am not gonna see SHIT

[hooniehon]

⭑ ﹒LIL STEPSIS ⎯ LHS x SJY

✤ pairings. heeseung jake x fem!reader . 18+

warnings. ✤ stepcest noncon 3some degradation slapping double vaginal penetration praise clit stimulation mean dom!heeseung soft (??) dom!jake lmk if i forgot smth!

don’t like it don’t read it.

WORD COUNT ˳ 2k

the one were you couldn’t wait but have a night out with the date you found online to finally have a day alone without your creep perverted step brothers, but of course it didn’t go well.

⭑

“where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” heeseung questions, pausing whatever he and jake were watching on the television ⎯ heeseung has an annoyed expression on his face cause who are you trying to impress wearing such a sexy dress? whereas jake just scans your whole body with no shame, biting down on his plump lips.

your step brothers became 10x more annoying then they already were since your parents went to this 1 whole month cruise ship trip. that meant that you were going to be stuck with those two, you honestly didn’t think it would be that bad but oh brother were you wrong.. ⎯ all you ever felt was them staring you down like perverted creeps, you didn’t even feel comfortable to wear normal pyjama shorts in your own house it was that bad, cause all they would just do is stare at your exposed legs and have their teeth biting down their lips.

wanting to not deal with that anymore you decide to go on a little date with the guy you recently met on this dating app. wanting nothing more but have a nice day without those two perverts staring you down like you’re some piece of meat. ⎯ to go out of course you had to come up with your best outfit, wearing a tight short black dress a pair of black heels and some cute accessories. ⎯ you didn’t have time for their bullshit trying to walk as fast as you can to go to the door but of course it was too late.

“what do you mean can’t i go out anymore or what?” you say scrunching your eyebrows from the annoying question he asked. ⎯ “you know your mom asked us to take care of you while they’re gone right? i have every right to ask you a simple question don’t i?..” he says slowly making his way to the door to face you. ⎯

jake can’t help but follow his brothers steps just to accompany him.

“i’m just going outside to hangout.” you argue back, rolling your eyes from annoyance. he’s not even your real brother why is he acting so possessive over you like he owns you? you can’t help but feel icky whenever he does that ⎯ “with who?” jake jumps in out of curiosity. “that’s none of you guys business i’m a grown woman i don’t need to tell anything to you guys!” ⎯ heeseung cant help but feel more annoyed from your bitchy attitude, slowly losing his patience.

“just answer the fucking question its not that hard.” he growls out from pure annoyance. you flinch at the sudden attitude he gives you. ⎯ “like i said it’s none of your business now leave me the fuck alone for fucks sake!” you yell out and that was heeseung’s last straw.

he grabs you by your wrist nearly bruising you with his grip and drags you all the way back to the living room pushing you down on the couch. jake quickly follows after the older one, making his way to stand next to heeseung to look at your dress that started to bunch up your hips ⎯ revealing your white lace panties. he already felt his cock hardening at the delicious sight.

“l-let go of me you bastard!” you try to fight back by trying to push hands off of you but of course you got overpowered. ⎯ heeseung being long annoyed by your irritating attitude he gives your cheek a hard slap, trying to shut you up for once. “ouch!” you cry out from the harsh stinging feeling. ⎯ “first you want to go out dressing like a cheap slut and now you want to fight me off? if you want to be treated like a bitch i’ll treat you like one.” he spits out.

the older signals jake to sit on the couch next to where you were thrown so he could put you on his lap. ⎯ jake quickly gets ahold of your arms and presses his lips to your ear. “don’t try to fight back cause you know it’s not going to bring you anywhere sweetie.” he whispers and gives kisses to your earlobe, lowering down to do the same on your neck. ⎯ heeseung goes back between your legs and takes off your heels to take ahold of your legs that were trying to push him off of you. ⎯ he then bunches your dress up more to your waist and eyes your soaked white lace panties. ⎯ “are you sure you’re not enjoying this mhm? look at how fucking wet you are.” he says with a satisfied smirk. giving your pussy harsh slaps ⎯ you yelp at the pain, trying to push your hips away from him but all that did was make more friction between your ass and jake’s cock.

you can already feel his hard cock pulsing on your ass and can’t help but feel utterly disgusted by it. your stepbrothers taking advantage of you. ⎯ jake begins to press his lips against your ears to whisper something again for the second time. “just be a good girl for us and take whatever we give you okay?” ⎯ you push your head away from him to face the other side and he grabs your jaw roughly to make you look up at him again.

“like i said, be a good girl and just take it.” he announces again, his face giving you a warning. he begins to then pull down the straps of your dress bunching it to your waist, fast forward he also gets rid of your bra and begins pinching your nipples. ⎯ you try to suppress your whimpers by biting your lips harshly, nearly drawing out blood. ⎯ while all that happened heeseung took off your panties and began to unbuckle his belt.

“pl-please no, don’t do this to me” you sob out, tears daring to drop from your waterline, jake and heeseung give each other a look and both let out a laugh from how helpless you sound. ⎯ “if you just participate with us it’ll not hurt baby.” heeseung tries to reassure you, bringing his hands to pinch your cheek.

“hee let me fuck her first pleaseee.” jake basically whines from horniness, getting tired of having to rub his dick all over your ass the whole time. ⎯ “fuck no just wait till i’m done” heeseung says rubbing his thumb over his tip to smear his precum all over his dick, slowly pumping it. jake groans out in frustration and throws his head back.

you on the other hand just feel small between them arguing over whoever gets to be in you first. “you know what lets just both fuck her at the same time.” heeseung announces with a grin and you felt like your heart sunk down to your ass from what he said. ⎯ “w-what no! i didn’t agree on that!?” you scream out trying to fight them off again but as you do that you can only hear them chuckle at you again. you’re stupid for thinking you can really fight them off. “well we don’t give a fuck about what you think so just shut the fuck up and take it like the whore you are.” the older warns you. ⎯ jake slowly lifts you up from his lap so he can take of his sweatpants and underwear at the same time and your jaw dropped from how big they both are. jake noticed the expression on your face and leaves out a chuckle. ⎯ “don’t worry baby we’ll fit in just perfectly.” the younger says while stroking his dick up and down with a groan

you then can feel jake’s hands going up & down your waist while heeseung’s are on your face bringing yours to his to kiss you. ⎯ you don’t even bother to return the kiss, just scrunching your face from how rough he was kissing your plump lips. ⎯ he bites your lip signaling you to open your mouth so he can dive more in your wet cavern. ⎯ he begins to explore your mouth, sucking your tongue roughly.

while that was happening jake slowly got ahold of your hips to lower yourself on his hard cock, your tight wet hole making contact with his red tip. jake hisses at the contact of feeling your warm pussy on him and begins to lower you on his dick. heeseung follows you, still exploring your mouth with his tongue. you squeal at the sudden intrusion, jake can’t help but moan out loud, feeling you clench so hard on him.

“woah f-fuuuck sweetie calm down, your clenching so hard on me.” ⎯ heeseung finally leaves your mouth alone and beams at the sight of you making an uncomfortable expression. “h-hyung she’s practically squeezing me i don’t think we’ll both fit in her..” the younger moans out again. ⎯ “we’ll make it fit.” is the last thing heeseung said before he went on his knees to stimulate your clit, rubbing quick circles on it, you let out a moan from the amazing feeling making them both smirk. ⎯ “shit, hyung if you don’t get in her now i’m going to fuck her all by myself.” jake whimpers, and that was all it took for heeseung to slightly get up and push himself in you too. ⎯ you could feel both of their cocks throbbing between your gushing walls and gasped from how full you felt.

“a-aghh fuck!” you scream from the painful stretch, throwing your head back at jake’s shoulder. ⎯ jake slowly pulls out and slams right back in again with full force, making you let out a high pitched moan. ⎯ “of course she’s enjoying it like the cockslut she is.” heeseung grits. ⎯ you felt so overwhelmed by their sweaty bodies rubbing against you.

they then both began plunging in you, thrusting roughly in your tight wet pussy. ⎯ all you could hear around you were their moans and groans from how good you felt around them. “fuuuckk this pussy’s so good” heeseung moaned out from pleasure, throwing his head back while his hand makes way to your face giving light taps on your cheeks. ⎯ all you could do is whimper, being tired of having to suppress them from shame.

“baby loves being full of her 2 stepbrothers doesn’t she mhm?” jake remarks while having a awfully annoying smirk on his face. you shake your head fast not wanting to feed in their delusions. “oh stop trying to lie you know damn well you love this.” jake says, his hand making way to your clit, rubbing it harshly which makes you let out another moan. “see?”

“shit i’m so f-fucking close.” heeseung let’s out while thrusting much more roughly. his hand going to your throat to choke you “gonna cum all over you.” he states, tightening his grip around your throat. “a-agh!” you whimpered from how close you were.

they could both feel how close you were and that gave their ego a boost, thrusting in you like their lives depended on it. “fuck yeah be a good bitch and come on our cocks.” heeseung says.

you don’t even like being called names like that but that was all it took for you to cum on both their dicks. covering your hand to your mouth to make it look like you just didn’t moan so hard. “y-you did so well for us.” jake praises you while his hands are still bruising your hips from the grip he leaves on them. he grabs your hips tighter, signaling how close he is but heeseung grabs you off him and manhandles you on your knees before him grabbing the back of your hair for leverage. you and jake both hiss from the loss of contact and jake huffs an annoying groan, but decides to keep his mouth shut. “f-fuck agh, gonna cum all over this pretty face.” he announces as white ropes spurt all across your face. you couldn’t even process everything from how fast he made you go on your knees. you then get turned around by jake, still being on your knees as he jerks his cock off to leave his release on your face too. “mhphhh!” jake whimpers out as his release spurts on your face too.

heeseung grabs you by the hair again to make your wobbly legs stand up and gives your lips a peck.

“such a good lil stepsis for us.”

it’s finally outtt!!! 🥹

[phant0mth1ef]

more of bakugou x support course reader!

after you’d fixed his gauntlets, he realized just how much you’d improved them as he was training in class one day, noticing how they’re able to withstand his blasts as if nothing had happened, and noticing that you etched the word dynamight onto the rim of the silver at the bottom of the grenade shaped gauntlet.

he found himself in the support course work room once again, looking aroundbto see if he could find you to, well, somewhat thank you and ask if you had any other recommendations to add to his costume.

his shoes hit the floor as he was able to fully see the room during the day, watching as the students shuffled around and didn’t just casually cater to someone standing in their doorway, they were too engrossed in their own projects.

he grabbed one’s shoulder as they tried to speed by him, almost dropping the poor boy as his items fell on the floor.

“where’s extra #1?” he asked, his eyes squinting at the boy who just wanted to grab his things and go.

“who?” the boy squeaked.

“extra #1!” he whisper shouted as the confusion on the boy’s face never faltered.

“…”

“l/n.” he finally gave up, realizing the boy wasn’t gonna understand what he meant.

“oh! she’s currently over at mirko’s agency! she designs support gear for her y’know! she’s so talented.” the boy gushed as bakugou swore he saw a slight blush on his cheeks before pushing him forward and letting him go, walking out the door.

he normally wouldn’t do this. but oh man did he really need that support gear today! the boy was walking around town looking for the number 5 hero’s agency, even stopping some people on patrol to ask!

he was outside the doors, watching with anticipation as he looked inside, watching power loader scold you, a sheepish smile on your face.

bakugou opened the doors, a soft music playing in the background as he caught the end of your conversation with the teacher.

“and get your grades up or i’m taking your keys to the lab!”

you put a hand behind your neck as you looked towards who had just walked in the door, a look of confusion on your face as you spotted the blonde hero in training.

you had grease on your face and dirt covering your arms up to your elbows, and yet he didn’t find himself completely repulsed, just fascinated.

“bakugou? what’re you doing here?” you spoke, a large screw in your hand as you waved him over.

“i, uh, i need your help with something.”

you nodded.

“d’ya have anymore recommendations for me? like to add onto my hero outfit? i liked the way you messed with my gauntlets.

“you came all the way over here to ask me that?” your tone was questioning, and your face wasn’t having any of it.

“listen! i’ve got a mission soon and if you do have anything to add i want it on by then! got it, extra?!” he got defensive quick.

“are you forgetful or do you just like to piss me off?”

he was stubborn, you were stubborn.

the perfect match for one another!

“tch. y’know what i don’t even know why i bothered coming out here! clearly you’re just an egotistical asshole.” he turned around.

“fine! then go! i’m not exactly asking to design your support gear anyway! bitch.” you said with pride, although you whispered the last part.

as the door jingled, signaling his exit, you could hear footsteps approaching from behind you.

“well well well, seems like we’ve found someone with enough spunk to finally match yours!” mirko clapped, announcing that out loud to everyone who was sitting in the lobby.

“tch. he wishes.”

“i dunno, the way you were talking to each other, i’d say there’s some romantic tension there, aren’t i right akari?” she turned to her assistant who nodded.

the next day bakugou showed up to the lab, just sitting there waiting to be acknowledged, although you blatantly ignored him the whole time he was there, going on with your day while people from his class walked in and were instantly assisted, even deku.

he would sit there and wait. and that’s all he’d do. day after day for a whole week before you finally begun to notice him sitting there.

“alright i can’t focus with you huffing and puffing in the corner over there!” you dropped your tools, clanking against one another as they hit your workspace.

“i don’t want to help you. but you’ve got persistence. i’ll give you that.” you said as you grabbed some things from a drawer, shoving them into his chest.

“what’s this?”

“a mix of different things. smaller compact grenades that pack a bigger punch than your other ones, these are ear plugs that’ll allow you to hear without damaging your hearing further, this is a roll of tape. for you to shut up.” you gave a chesire grin at the last one.

surprisingly, he chuckled. he didn’t think he’d ever find someone who… “matched his freak,” as mina would describe it.

he also found himself liking the feeling of sitting there and watching you in your element, so much that he begun to come in after classes just to chat with you while you worked.

you weren’t as bad as he thought, he wasn’t as bad as you thought.

you could get used to this.

[thewailingbells]

Hello~~

I discovered your profile not long ago (literally yesterday) and I loved your writing. You made me more in love with Thomas Hewitt than I already am!!!

Could we have a fic where Thomas and S/O are already lovers but for some reason S/O has to leave or travel to another city for a few months and this leaves Thomas completely devastated and stressed. Even Luda Mae and Hoyt notice the change in his behavior while s/o is away and when s/o finally returns home,she has to find some way to de-stress Thomas who is dying of missing her. 😞 (No need to write NSFW if you feel uncomfortable!!!!)

(English isn't my first language so I literally translated this whole thing on google... lmao.)

Always Forever

AN: AFAB Reader. This is my first time writing smut! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Sex, nudity, fingering, rough sex, piv, creampie, general nsfw things.

“Thomas, you know I have to go.”

Your boyfriend was standing behind you, arms wrapped tightly around your torso, and his head buried into your shoulder. Your words only made him squeeze you tighter.

“Tommy, I need to go see my family. They miss me, and I promised I would visit them for the week! I wanted you to come with me; you know that, but Hoyt said no.

He sighed, knowing you were right. His uncle needed him to stay home and take care of the house. God knows what would happen if Tommy wasn’t around.

Since you started dating him, there hasn’t been a day when you two were apart. Thomas didn’t want to let you go, but he knew he had to. He spent the rest of your time together, following you around as you packed your bags. Noon came quicker than you expected, signaling it was time for you to go.

You said your goodbyes to Luda, Hoyt, and Charlie as you walked out the door. Tommy was already outside, having carried your bags to the car. Once all of your luggage was neatly packed up, you smiled at him. You pulled him into a tight hug before kissing him. “I love you. I promise I’ll be back.”

You got inside your car and smiled at him. With that, you drove off. Tommy waited until your car was nowhere in sight to go back into the house.

“Tommy,” Hoyt said, “How’s it feel now that your bitch is gone?”

Thomas ignored his words and stomped down into the basement. He could hear the sound of bickering between Hoyt and Luda Mae, most likely due to Hoyt’s crass language.

Tommy wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had been in the basement. He just kept chopping and chopping and chopping the animal meat laid in front of him. He had been cutting meat for years now, to the point where he didn’t even have to think about it.

“Tommy! Tommy! Get up here now,” Luda Mae shouted. His mother’s voice awoke him from his thoughts. He walked up the stairs. Luda Mae looked at her boy with sad eyes. “Tommy. You’ve been in the basement for six hours. It’s time to stop now, sweetheart. Come on, let’s get you some food and water.”

The next few days, Thomas would go to work at the crack of dawn and come home hours after the sun had set. When he came home, he would wait by the door for a few moments. He thought that maybe you would have come back early, but you didn’t.

The week had gone by. You had promised him you would be back home on Monday by one o’clock in the afternoon. Thomas believed you. Why wouldn’t he? However, it became harder and harder to believe you as the hours on the clock ticked by. Tommy sat by the front door. Watching. Waiting.

Hoyt sighed and came up behind Tommy. He placed his hand on his shoulder. “Boy, I don’t know how to tell ya this, but I don’t think she’s coming back.”

Thomas’s eyes grew wide. He shook his head. You were coming back. He knew it.

“Thomas, it’s six o’clock. She said she'd be home by one. I don’t see her anywhere. Do you?”

Tommy placed his head in his hands. He wished Hoyt wouldn’t say things like that. Things that were not true. But then again, Tommy had never been the brightest. Maybe you never loved him. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity for you to escape from him. When Thomas was about to spiral into distress, he heard a car door slamming.

Thomas jumped out of his chair and rushed to the door. He opened it with such force that it nearly flew off the hinges. That’s when he saw it—your car in the driveway. He ran towards it.

You quickly stepped out of your car, beautiful as ever. You smiled when you saw him. “Tommy! I’m so sorry I’m late. I was-” Your sentence was cut off when Thomas picked you up off the ground and pulled you into the tightest hug you’ve ever experienced. You tried to wiggle out, worrying his grip was too tight, but you gave into the hug and snuggled against him. You knew he needed this.

Eventually, he put you down on the ground. “Tommy, I told you I would be back. I’d never leave you. I love you so much. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

He didn’t say anything. He leaned down and kissed you. It was rough and passionate. Before it escalated, he threw you over his shoulder and brought you inside.

Hoyt smiled at the sight of you. “Well, would you look at that? She came back! Luda was right,” he muttered to himself.

Thomas brought you upstairs to his bedroom. He threw you on the bed and quickly pinned you down. Your faces were inches away from each other. The room was silent except for the sounds of both of you panting.

Tommy gently cupped your breast. He looked at you with pleading eyes.

You nodded. “Go ahead. Do whatever you want to me, Tommy.”

He immediately got to work, his movements faster than usual. Normally, he would take his time with you. Not today, though.

He roughly grabbed the waist of your pants and yanked them down. You let out a squeak in surprise. He grabbed both of your wrists in one of his large hands, keeping them suspended above your head. He balled your t-shirt up in one of his fists before forcefully tugging it up. He released his grip, allowing you to slide it off.

Tommy let out a desperate whine at the sight of your body. You were dressed in white lace lingerie. It was nothing much; it was very simplistic, looking like it could pass for a normal pair of undergarments. Despite that, Tommy nearly came in his pants at the sight of you.

He leaned down and nestled his face in the crook of your neck. He aligned his clothed cock with your clothed pussy. He began to desperately hump you. Tommy felt shameful; you could tell by the way he hid his face. Never in his life had he been this desperate for anything. He wanted, no, he needed to be close to you in any way. He had to show you how much he loved you.

A breathy moan fell from your lips. “Tommy, Tommy, calm down. I can take care of you.” You began to sit up. He pushed the middle of your chest, causing you to fall back onto the bed. You sighed, knowing he wanted to do everything himself today.

He pulled your panties to the side, exposing your pussy. He ran his thick fingers up against your lips to feel your wetness. He roughly put one of his fingers inside of you, causing you to throw your head back and moan in pleasure. He would usually give you time to adjust to it, but not today. Today, he immediately shoved his second finger inside your hole as well. Your back arched as he roughly finger-fucked you harder than ever before. Tommy then put his thumb on your clit, gently circling it.

Once he felt your walls begin to stretch for him, he removed his fingers. You whined in annoyance. Thomas unzipped his fly and pulled his cock out. It was rock hard and dripping with precum. He aligned himself with your hole and then fully bottomed out in one swift movement.

You mewled in pleasure. “Tommy! Fuck, Tommy~”

He immediately began to roughly pound into you. The feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock drove him crazy. Your moans got louder and louder, not caring who heard them.

He reached down to toy with your clit, bringing you so close to the edge. You grabbed the blankets on the bed.

Tommy was so close. He needed to come so badly. You looked at him with lustful eyes. “I love you~ cum for me. Cum for me, Tommy.”

With one particular rough thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and came. He let out a deep moan as his seed began to fill you up. Thomas nearly collapsed on top of you. He grabbed your waist and flipped you onto him, his cock still deep inside you. Your entire body was pressed tightly against him. He wrapped his hands around your smaller frame to keep you in place.

Once you had calmed down, you sighed contently. You reached up and pushed some of his hair out of his face. “I told you I would come back, didn’t I?”

[artdnldsn]

gestalt therapy

college professor!art donaldson x fem reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, swearing, student!reader, age gap, porn w/ a little plot, head (f receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, slight degradation (question mark?), one mention of "daddy"

synopsis: you're done with your senior year at college, and all you want is a parting gift.

a/n: my first full fic here wow my first ever smut WOW the only thing that's not a first here is english because it's my second language so be patient pookies. college prof au has been haunting me for days so i needed to get it out. even though i have no fucking idea how colleges work in the us ;) hope you like it! happy reading

The first thing he notices about you is how ridiculously smart you are.

It's not even a stretch or him trying to justify the instant attraction he feels towards you. No, you're genuinely, undeniably brilliant, especially for your age. You've got this way with words, and concepts come to you so easily. You pick up on all his lead-ups to lecture topics, knowing exactly what the main conversation will be about a good five minutes before the rest of the class. You smile smugly, crossing your arms and leaning back, your eyes seeking his because you want him to know that you know.

And honestly, he'd be mad at you for being so smug if you weren't so damn smart.

The way you walk up to him after class to discuss your latest essay, your stance confident and voice sure, as you argue over why you deserved a 100 and not a 98. He's looking at your essay, then at you, then back at his computer screen, squinting just to appear like he's thinking it over, but he knows you're right; of course you are. Your essay is perfect. He was just being a dick about it, nitpicking because he couldn't admit you're basically flawless.

He's getting self-conscious about his teaching. There's nothing he can teach you—you come so prepared for every class that he wonders if you even have a life outside his classroom. Maybe your brain just works like that, but a small, selfish part of him hopes you spend hours prepping for his classes. The thought that you do it for him and not the subject is a nice one, but he shoves it away.

At least that way, it wouldn't be as pathetic for him to spend nights rewriting his lectures, perfecting his presentations to the point where he's sitting in his bed at 3 AM, pondering whether Times New Roman or Arial would make his point come across better.

He's always been a perfectionist, living by the book, striving not for greatness but for the reserved maximum of his natural capabilities. He never really pushed himself. But you—oh, fuck, you. Fuck you. You make him want to lose sleep just to prove to you or himself that he's certainly smarter than some college senior.

He calls you a lot of things in his head. A know-it-all, an "excuse me" because you're always "excuse me"-ing him like he doesn't have a name, a smartass, a bitch—he hates when he's in a mood like this last one because it signals it's time to sleep. You're a lot of things, but you're not stupid.

In fact, he starts wondering if you're a once-in-a-lifetime talent. Because he's rather young for a professor, he hasn't seen as many students as his colleagues, who always crack up anecdotes about past students, someone who graduated 15, 30 years ago, but the older professors still remember them. He wonders if he's going to remember you like that. He's pretty sure he will.

He's never even thought about you as a woman and not just his student. He's just respectful like that. Sure, you were hot, which only added to your confident allure. He's not blind—hell, he'd admit it if he had to—but he's never thought about you like that.

But apparently, you have about him.

You appear at his office doorstep minutes before he's about to clock out for the night. You're looking pristine as always, and with your silhouette illuminated by the office's dim lights, he wonders for a second if you're even human with your endless drive, brilliant mind, and hair that always looks like it's animated because it's impossible for real human hair to flow that perfectly.

"Good evening," he greets you, eyebrows creasing slightly in confusion. You've never visited, your final grades are in, and you're graduating in a week. He's already said his goodbyes to your class, and when he did, you shot him a little smile that he read as everything being good between you. What are you doing here then? "Can I help—"

“Are you impotent?” you cut him off, arms crossed, a challenging look in your eyes.

He actually chokes on air. “E-excuse me?” he mutters under his breath, his expression shocked, his voice strained. God, he’s ridiculed you for years in his head for addressing him like that, and here he is now.

You turn your back to him, lock the door, and make your way to his desk in confident steps. You sit on the edge of his desk, looking at him over your shoulder. "I asked if you're impotent," you shrug, arching your eyebrow.

“No,” he blurts out, his expression still one of pure horror as he doesn’t know where to keep his gaze, his eyes darting between the papers on his desk, and his computer screen, and his hands, anywhere but you. “God, no.”

“Why you never fucked me, then?” you ask, your tone still almost accusatory, but your voice soft. It’s almost like there is a hint of genuine regret in your words, and he doubts his sanity right now, wonders if he’s imagining things. He pinches his thigh under the desk, just to make sure.

“What do you mean, why?” he stutters, his cheeks flushed. “B-because.” Oh, God, it’s really bad. He’s really speechless, his mind unable to conjure up a full sentence. “Because you’re my student, and I respect you, and there are boundaries that shouldn’t be—“

“I’m not your student anymore. Not technically.” Your tone is matter-of-fact, one he’s too familiar with. One you’ve used to tell him about all the typos in his handouts, all the mistakes in his tests, all the times he’s fucked up grading someone’s papers. Only now you’re telling him… Fuck, he really can’t grasp what it is you’re telling him.

“I can’t argue with that, but I really don’t understand the point of this conversation. You’re completely out of—“

“Consider it gestalt therapy,” you shrug nonchalantly. He’s getting mad, really, with you cutting him off like that, like you’re getting back at him for years of having to listen to his lectures without having an opportunity to talk over him. It takes him a second to grasp what you’re implying. He clears his throat.

You sigh, letting your arms drop to your sides, sliding off the desk, walking up to him in these fucking deliberate strides, spinning him in his chair so he faces you, his hands lifted up in the air as if he is surrendering. He doesn’t know to what, exactly.

“Just really have to get this out of my system, Mr. Donaldson,” you sigh almost guilty, your gaze landing on his lap. He's hard, his cock straining the fabric of his trousers. Of course he is, what the fuck?

You cup him, eliciting a soft sigh from his lips, his eyes falling shut. You start stroking him through the fabric, confidently like everything you do. It makes his blood boil. You’re such a bitch. A know-it-all. A smart-ass. And so, so hot that he can’t bring himself not to kinda wish you’re intending to fuck his brains out.

He opens his mouth to say something, maybe a weak protest to give you a final out, but you lean down, pressing your lips to his in a languid, deep kiss, a thorough exploratory one like every single one of your fucking essays has ever been.

You move to his lap, straddling him, the chair creaking under your combined weight. Only when his hands move to your hips does he understand you’re wearing a skirt. God, he hasn’t even noticed that. He lets his hands stay there, caressing your bare thighs as your skirt rides up, and you lean in for another kiss.

There's no raw hunger. If anything, he’s sure he’s incapable of it in this situation, his mind still trying to catch up, trying to relabel you as not forbidden. You’re grinding against his growing erection, tugging at his hair as you deepen the kiss, your curves so unexpectedly perfect against him.

He only realizes you’re working on his belt and zipper when he hears them. Instinctively, he moves his hands to your wrists to stop you, but you just shake them away like you’ve shrugged him off all these years. He gasps into your mouth as you wrap your hand around his freed cock, stroking the length expertly, thoroughly, meticulously, as your lips never leave his. He actually relaxes into the chair, his hands gripping your waist, tugging your top up to reveal more bare skin.

No bra. Of course you didn’t wear any. You’ve come prepared as always.

You chuckle quietly, your lips continuing to move in unison with his, finding a lazy rhythm that drives you both insane. He reads this chuckle as you being amused at him taking any initiative. It makes his blood boil.

He breaks the kiss, one hand squeezing your breast firmly as he leans down, capturing your left nipple between his lips, sucking gently before biting. His other hand lands on your ass with a loud smack, making you gasp. Finally, some reaction.

He starts bucking into your hand, seeking more friction, moving his mouth to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention, leaving a bite mark on the side, making you wince but moan. That moan—fuck, that beautiful sound. Now he’s angrier at himself than you are at him for not having fucked you sooner.

He understands you were expecting to ride him, like he’s some sexless creature, a toy to use, a dick attached to a fantasy that has nothing to do with the man he is, and it makes him even madder. He’s always admired your insightfulness, your capability to get right to the gist of things through walls of useless shit, but he’s feeling his respect for you slipping as he understands just how wrong you must’ve been about him in your head.

He peels himself off your chest, lips glistening with saliva, smacking your ass again, harder this time, groping both cheeks as he lifts you off his lap to sit you on his desk over the papers he’s grading. He’ll just tell everyone he spilled a drink. No one will miss them.

His lips find yours again in a searing hot kiss. It’s messy, all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to hurt you, but he’s not. Of course not. It’s just that something dormant is being woken up in him. You whimper as he cups your mound through your panties, making him chuckle. Well, look who’s laughing now.

"You've seriously dreamt about this?" he whispers against your jaw, his long fingers sliding into your underwear, finding your slickness. Fuck, you're so wet for him, it almost makes him black out. "Wanted me to fuck you on this desk? Or the one in the classroom? Or in the library? Or right in the fucking hall, huh? Why not? Let everyone watch." His tone is almost taunting, his every word accompanied by a painfully slow and teasing circle of his thumb over your swollen clit.

"Yes, yes, yes," you mutter, eyes squeezed shut, forehead pressing against his shoulder, hips bucking helplessly into his hand, seeking friction. It’s not clear if you’re answering his questions or begging him to go faster. It doesn’t matter; his smirk is already in place, his eyes glistening with amusement as he looks down at you, breathing hard through his nose.

"Yes, what?" he chuckles, shrugging, his eyes scanning every reaction on your face. The way your head falls back, your lower lip caught between your teeth, your cheeks flushed. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, what?" he murmurs softly, his hand in your panties slowing down to the point of stopping.

A groan of disappointment escapes your lips as you snap your head back up, eyes darting open. He can see your pupils blown wide even in the dim light, the lamp on his desk illuminating you from behind like a renaissance painting. "Yes, fuck me," you say dryly, like it’s obvious, still seeing him as some pathetic, stupid nobody, but you’re slightly out of breath when you say it, so that’s a win in his book for now.

Just means he’s gotta try harder.

His arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place. He’s standing between your legs, keeping them spread wide for him. He pulls his hand out of your panties to bring it to your face, shoving two fingers into your pretty smartass mouth. Your eyebrows crease, eyes falling shut at the action, a hum leaving your lips, vibrating through his skin, but you still suck on them obediently, tasting yourself on his fingers and coating them in your saliva.

He slips one finger right inside you when it makes its way back down. He starts thrusting it into you at a steady rhythm, his lips finding your neck, nibbling on it, his teeth grazing your delicate skin, tongue sliding over the little marks his teeth leave there, as he curls his finger inside you, thrusting deeper, deeper, almost aggressively.

"God, I really thought you were smart," he mutters under his breath, hot against your skin as he adds another finger and starts stretching you, eliciting a soft moan from you. He leans down, sucking on your tits again, noticing how hard your nipples are now, almost painfully so, matching the way his dick is rock hard, still standing at full attention against his clothed abdomen. "Thought you were different. Hard-working. Proper." He sinks onto his knees in front of you, looking up at you with a glint in his eyes you can’t quite read. "Turns out you’re just a slut."

He tugs your panties down, his tongue finding your cunt, one of his hands moving to throw your leg over his shoulder, keeping it there tightly as the fingers of his other hand re-enter your cunt, starting to finger it at the same urgent pace, his tongue moving feverishly over your clit, making you moan quietly because, yes, there are still people in the building, you have to keep quiet, but a part of him, the one you’ve awoken, wishes the circumstances were different, that he could hear you scream for him.

He’s getting high off the taste of your juices, off the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils, his nose pressed into your pelvis as he fucks you with his fingers in a relentless rhythm, curling his fingers inside you, feeling your walls clench down onto him, searching for that sweet spot that’s going to make your toes curl.

“Tell me,” he rasps out, pulling away from your cunt just for enough time to say what he needs to say, peppering your inner thigh with kisses in the meantime. “Tell me exactly how long you’ve wanted this. And how you wanted me to fuck you. Leave no details out.”

You whimper when he delves back onto your clit, sucking on it, not caring to keep his teeth from grazing your sensitive skin here and there, but it’s a good feeling.

“S-since that lecture. Sophomore year,” you breathe out, you throat tight from holding back so many moans that are begging to be let out. Your mouth falls open in a silent ‘oh’ as he sucks your whole clit in, lapping at it with his tongue inside his wet hot mouth, your hand snapping instinctively onto his head, gripping his hair to pin yourself down to the reality. “You wore that slutty turtleneck, and of course I’ve thought you’re hot, but then you had one wrong date in your presentation, and I got so fucking mad at you. Thought you’re too careless to teach.”

He hums against your cunt, encouraging you to go on, or agreeing with your point, he can’t tell himself anymore. He’s completely gone at this point, drinking your juices like he’s drinking in your words. Amidst all this, he actually appreciates you not calling him stupid. You might’ve, but you didn’t.

“And you were always s-so passive, like I tried arguing with you, reading all that shit instead of going out just to get a rile out of you, and you never fucking bucked. I-I-I—“ you stutter, your mind going into overdrive for a second as he continues abusing your g-spot, his fingers moving at a frantic speed in and out, in and out. He smacks your thigh to get your attention back on the topic. “I just couldn’t fucking believe you. I was being a bitch, I was nagging you, just because. And you didn’t even care.”

He smiles into your cunt, a huff of air leaving his nose. At last, you admit it. He suddenly doesn’t feel bad at all for calling you a bitch in his head. He can feel your walls contracting around his fingers, your breathing irregular, you’re practically panting, your grip in his hair tightening as you guide him closer, rolling your hips against his tongue and fingers, seeking release. You’re close.

He pulls away, earning another cuss and another groan of disappointment off your lips. He smacks your thigh again, hard, the action leaving a red print of his big palm on your skin. “You didn’t answer,” he rasps out, delving back into you. Fucking students, he thinks to himself. Always so smart, thinking they know it all, and always forgetting to answer the second part of the question after they’re done answering the first.

Your mind is so hazy at this point, it takes you an effort to rewind the interaction in your head to understand what he means. “L-like this,” you whimper, your thighs trembling as he grips the one that’s not on his shoulder to stop it from shaking too much, keeping you in place. “I-I didn’t want you to be nice. You’re always so fucking nice, it’s not human, I knew it wasn’t true.”

He’s too set on making you cum to chuckle now, although it is pretty funny. He’s been doubting you’re human, too, but the way you gasp for air, trying desperately to hold back your moans as he feels you coming closer and closer to release, it tells him all that he needs to know. You’re just flesh and bones, not the perfect genius he’s painted you to be in his mind.

“Fuck!” you whimper, giving his hair one last tug before your hand springs up to cover your mouth, biting into your index finger to keep yourself quiet. It takes one slide of his fingers, one roll of his tongue, five seconds, and your muscles go taught as your hips buck off the desk, his pens in the glass standing on the edge of it clattering against each other, the keyboard of his computer flying up for a split second from impact of your ass slamming back down onto the desk. It’s like a mini-earthquake, that’s left your world erupt into white behind your closed eyelids.

He fingers you through it, lapping his tongue over your clit until you wince quietly from it hurting, and he pulls away reluctantly, standing up from the floor to stand in between your legs again. His neck and back hurt like hell from crouching down on the floor for so long, his muscles are not what they used to be, after all, and for a split second he considers actually giving up and letting you ride him, but it would be your win in his book, and he can’t allow that.

He spits on his hand before he leans down to kiss you, his tongue sliding back into your mouth, letting you taste yourself once again, as he brings his hand down to stroke himself, breathing softly out of his nose at the relief of some friction, finally. “You’re such a hypocrite,” he murmurs into your lips, softly, almost lovingly, the same fucking slightly condescending tone he’s always used in his classroom.

You open your mouth to ask what the fuck he means, but he pushes his tongue back into your mouth, all thoughts of a protest evaporating from your mind. You slide closer to the edge of the desk instinctively to accommodate him when he eventually pushes into you. You almost can’t wait.

He gropes your ass to position you like he wants you, his fingers digging into your plump skin maybe a little too hard. You don’t protest. He breathes heavily, like it’s physically paining him to hold back any second longer — it does,—and his brows are furrowed in concentration while he slides his tip over your clit, coating it with your slickness, the same way he frowns when he’s grading papers or goes over tomorrow’s lecture in his head.

He pushes inside in one determined thrust, piercing through you, a quiet grunt escaping his lips, a soft moan escaping yours. Before you have any time to adjust, he starts pounding his hips into yours, one of his arms hooked around your torso to keep you in place as his free hand flies to your chest, squeezing your right tit roughly, pinching your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and index finger, making it harden again.

“Careless?” he scoffs, an expression of pure disbelief on his face at the fact you’ve even dared to say that. He grunts again, his hand falling from your breast to your hip, gripping it firmly as he continues pounding into you, your breathing quickening again. He’s rather big, and it hurts a little from you still being sore from your orgasm, but you still moan softly under your nose, your wrists hurting from you leaning on the desk behind your back for so long.

“You call me careless for a typo in a presentation I made six years ago, and it’s not careless for you to come here, asking me if I’m impotent? Fuck you,” he grunts again, a grin pulling on his lips as he throws his head back, the rhythm of his hips never faltering. You’re squeezing his cock so tightly, there’s no way in hell you’re ever going to be asking him or yourself that question again.

He lets go of you, reaching behind your back to pull on your wrists, tugging them further to himself, which makes you fall back on the desk. “Fuck you,” he repeats, his words almost sounding like a moan now as he holds your wrists near your stomach, basically transfixing you. He moves one of his hands up to throw your leg over his shoulder again, another continuing holding your wrists down, as you both groan quietly at the change of the angle, the new one allowing for him to go so deep he’s touching parts of you you didn’t know existed.

“So, you wanted me to be a good teacher and a good dick all at the same time?” he muses, a smirk pulling on his lips again as he looks down onto your dishevelled form, your tits bouncing out of your tugged-down top, you skirt ridden up to your waist, your fucking face, so unbearably beautiful, flushed and your lips swollen from his kisses and from you biting on them so much. He can’t fucking get enough of how silent you are now after running your mouth at him for all these years. “Did you want me to be your boyfriend, too?” he chuckles, shaking his head, his expression faltering as he picks up the rhythm for a good minute, pounding into you so hard all the items on the desk are clattering, and you have to bite on your lips again not to scream from him practically tearing you apart, because you can’t cover your mouth anymore with your wrists held by him.

“Daddy never loved you, right?” He understands he’s probably taunting you too much, his words almost feeling cruel, but he’s too far gone at this point, he’s making a forceful effort to continue looking down at you to imprint the way you look right now into his memory to revisit later, even though his eyes are almost rolling back from just how good your cunt takes him. “That’s why you’ve been pining for my dick for fucking three years? Are you getting what you wanted?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper weakly. Yes to all that, actually, but he doesn’t need to know that. He feels too good, filling you up to the brim, you can almost feel him in your guts, he’s making your toes curl. And he’s finally not acting nice. Just like you wanted him to.

“Good,” he growls, letting go of you for a second before his hands find the undersides of your knees, bringing them close to your chest, changing the angle again as he starts hammering down into you, the room filled with the sound of your shared ragged breaths, the desk creaking under you and the sound of his pelvis slapping against yours. “Fu-uck, you’re taking me so good, none of your schoolwork was ever that good,” he’s lying through his teeth. Not about the sex — you’re taking it like a champ—but about your schoolwork. It was, indeed, that good.

He basically has no power left over what words leave his mouth, he’s completely drunk on you, the taste of your cunt and your mouth still lingering on his tongue. “Are you gonna come again?” he pants out, slowing down, feeling your walls clenching down on him, squeezing him tight.

“Y-yeah,” you mutter, fluttering your eyes open to look at him from under your eyelashes, but you can pretty much only make out his silhouette with how hazy your vision has become with just how good he’s fucking you. “I knew,” you repeat, your throat feeling tight again, your head falling back on the desk as you bring your now free hands to your mouth, covering it to muffle out the scream you know is there, brewing, destined to roll of your lips when he drives you to release again.

“You—“ he starts in disbelief, but he’s getting closer, too, there’s no point in arguing now. He just can’t fucking believe the nerve on you. What do you mean, you knew? Knew he could fuck you like you wanted to? Knew you would be walking out of here with a limp? Such a know-it-all, always thinking she’s two steps ahead everybody else.

He sighs shakily, a broken, needy sound as he brings his hand in between your legs, finding your clit again, his other hand still holding your knees pressed to your chest. He rubs at you in sync with the thrusts of his hips, his pace picking up, up, and up, until he finally lets out a low grunt, stilling, slipping out of you as he watches you bite on your hand, tears streaming down your cheeks as he feels your pussy convulsing under his fingers, another orgasm hitting you, and in a matter of seconds, after a few fast strokes, he comes, too, thick ropes of his seed landing all over your stomach and knees, and some of it lands on your chin.

For a few seconds, he just stands there, catching his breath, watching over you. He opens his desk drawer, pulls out a tissue pack, and wipes himself before doing the same for you. You're still lying there, face hidden in your hands, your outfit a mess. He's already caught you crying and knows you might feel awkward doing it in front of him, so he just makes sure you're clean for when you leave.

He tucks himself back into his trousers, fastens his belt, and walks to the other side of his office. You hear him rustling around while you try to get your breath back and keep your emotions in check. His soft footsteps approach the desk again, and you feel him gently patting your knee. You open your eyes to see him holding out a cup of water—a peace offering or an apology. But you know he doesn't owe you either. He just gave you everything you've wanted for the last three years. And he even brought you fucking water. Because he's disgustingly nice like that.

You nod in gratitude, sit up, and take the plastic cup from his hand, downing it in one gulp. It actually brings some life back to you. You breathe out shakily, fix your top, and tuck your tits back in before sliding off the desk. Your shoes land softly on the floor, your legs still trembling, your knees feeling like they'll give out any moment. You tug your skirt down and sheepishly meet his gaze, unsure where to go from here.

He steps closer and brings his hands up to your face to fix your hair. His eyebrows furrow in concentration again as he smooths it down, making sure you don't look disheveled when you walk out of here.

He sighs, letting his arms drop to his sides, and keeps looking at your face as if making sure you're not just looking okay but are okay too. “I didn’t mean that. The ‘fuck you’. And the ‘slut’ comment. Well, I kinda did,” he shrugs, averting his gaze with a humorless chuckle, “but I didn’t.”

You punch the air out of his lungs as you pounce on him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. It takes him a second to gather himself, but he hesitantly hugs you back, just letting his hands rest on your lower back as you nuzzle your nose into his chest.

You had to get it out of your system, but now that it's in, you feel like you’ll never get enough. He feels like a beacon, one he's always been for you. The guy you picked a rivalry with your first week of sophomore year just to push yourself harder, to strive for greatness. He wasn’t even aware there was a rivalry to begin with. He's an academic, though, they’re all fucked up in the head, he must understand a part of it, at least.

And he understands. Truly. He just hopes you won’t start crying again, because he doesn’t know how he'd handle that. He pulls away slightly to look you in the eyes, cupping your face in his hands, and plants a soft kiss on your forehead.

“You’re a smart girl,” he says, his voice low, the small, friendly smile on his lips sincere, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he looks down at you. “You’ll figure it out. I don’t doubt it.”

He had this whole speech prepared for the class about how adult life is going to treat them, the challenges they'll face, how scary it’ll be, but also insanely rewarding. It was long, sentimental, with a few jokes thrown in. Some girls cried, but it was all bullshit. What’s real is this. Him understanding your fears without you having to voice them. Him telling you you’ve got this.

“And until you do, you always know where to find me,” he nods to the side, obviously meaning his office, a lopsided smirk making him look a good decade younger. His gaze finds yours again, and he pulls you into another tight hug, one he initiates this time.

In his mind, he’s already thinking how long it would be appropriate to wait before he can invite you for a coffee.

[evieolo]

Hey you should do an angst one where Matt and Y/n get into a fight while in the car and then y/n gets mad and then gets out of the car at a stop light and walkd home in the rain like crying and all that fun jazz, sorry if that's a little confusing.

Rain — Matt Sturniolo x Reader

A/N: @sturniolo-fav-matt you’re the best for putting up with the insane amount of time it took me to write this 💋 | It’s hard to write arguments where the characters don’t both bitch about it, so Matt and Y/N are both in the wrong here (more so Matt though)

Contains: Arguments/Big disagreement/hurt comfort (I think idk if this is sad in the slightest)

Date night hadn’t started well. Quite the opposite. Matt made a dinner reservation for nine. The dinner was supposed to be after he, Chris, and Nick filmed their latest car video, but filming ran late after the camera malfunctioned. So Matt shows up to your date forty minutes late to find you sitting on a park bench outside of the restaurant, arms crossed over your chest.

A light drizzle fell from the sky, dampening your hair and satin dress. Matt hurriedly shuffles over to the bench where you’re seated and frowns when he sees that you’re definitely not happy with him.

“Look who decided to show up,” you quip with a not-so-happy expression on your face.

“I’m sorry,” Matt says, sympathy laced in his expression. You nod, accepting his candor, and wrap your arms around his neck, placing a quick kiss on his lips before speaking. “We lost our dinner reservation,” you say and purse your lips slightly.

Matt nods with a sigh, “Why didn’t you just wait at the table?”

You laugh dryly. “Alone - looking like I got stood up for forty minutes? No thanks.”

Matt smiles accordingly - he loves your witty remarks. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, kissing your forehead. You giggle lightly as his hands rub your hips, feeling butterflies arise in your stomach because you know he hates P.D.A., but he’s touchy like there’s nothing more important than you.

“You’re forgiven,” you say, giving him one more long peck on the lips before pulling back.

You stand silently for a moment before Matt speaks, “I heard a nice ice cream shop opened up a block from here. Want to go?” he questions, looking forward to your response.

You raise a brow, “Ice cream before dinner? You know me so well.”

The second you and Matt enter the shop, a gasp is elicited from the other side of the room, followed by a couple of gaping stares from what looks to be a group of fifteen-year-olds, and an, “Oh my god, is that Matt Sturniolo?”

Matt doesn’t notice this as quickly as you do and makes his way to the front desk, ordering for both you and himself before he’s bombarded with requests for photos. You stand back as he obliges, taking selfie after selfie with awestruck girls. You can’t say it happens a lot, but there have been a definite one or two times, meaning you had a “routine” for the situation; that being, awkwardly waiting in whatever corner of the room you were in for the fangirls to clear.

The clerk holds two cups of ice cream in hand and scoots them over the counter. You recognize them as the flavors Matt ordered and go to pick them up, though, not avoiding the “Matt” that falls from the clerk's tongue, signaling that the orders are ready. You thank the man, grabbing two spoons before taking the two cups of ice cream.

“Um, Mr. Sturniolo,” a girl coughs out, awkwardly tapping Matt's shoulder. Matt lets out an acknowledging hum, and the girl points to you. “That girl took your ice cream,” she says.

Matt laughs, pointing a smile at you. “That’s Nick's friend,” he says with nonchalance, “She’s just grabbing it for me.”

Your stomach drops. You knew he was just saying it because your relationship was off the media, but Nick's friend? He couldn’t have gone as far as to say you were his friend?

Matt finishes taking photos and walks towards the door where you are standing. You pivot to walk out the second he’s next to you, handing him his cup of ice cream and opening the door without a word. Matt doesn’t pick up on your mood change. “It’s so cool to run into fans,” he smiles, “It’s still weird to me, and did you hear how she called me Mr. Sturniolo? That was hilarious,” Matt gushes, spooning a generous amount of ice cream into his mouth.

You nod, giving him a dry, “Yeah,” before stepping past the shop’s awning, momentarily forgetting it was raining. You're snapped back to reality when a large raindrop falls directly on your forehead, dripping down your nose.

“Is your car close?” You ask. Matt nods.

༯ ༯ ༯

“Will you ever want to go public?” You ask once you're situated in the car, strapping your seatbelt over your torso as you speak.

Matt pauses for a second before he speaks, giving you time to get used to the pattering of rain on the windshield. “Maybe,” he mutters, with no clarity in his answer whatsoever.

“I just think we should revisit the conversation, Matt. I don’t want to always have to act like one of your ‘bros,’” you press, looking at him intently. Your harsh expression doesn’t waver when he speaks.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Y/N.”

Your heart aches, but you continue. “You never want to talk about this, Matt.”

Matt grips the steering wheel harder, and his knuckles turn white where the most pressure is applied. “You're getting on my nerves," he spits, looking not at you, but at the road.

“Matt…”

“Stop,” he grits his teeth, “just shut up! I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it.”

Your jaw tightens with anger. “I don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it, Matthew. You’re acting like a child. You have six - six million followers! And I have to act like I'm some celebrity hiding from the paparazzi because you can’t deal with the fact that you have a girlfriend who wants to be seen with you?”

This is a blow to Matt’s confidence, and he takes it as an insult to both his career and him. “You’re unreasonable,” Matt mutters, taking a harsh breath.

“Are you kidding me? You’re the only unreasonable one here, Matthew,” you spit, throwing your hands down against your thighs in frustration.

Matt doesn't respond to this. The only sounds in the car are the acceleration of the engine and the occasional clicking of the blinkers.

You sit in silence for minutes before your anxiousness has you spitting out a question. “Are you embarrassed of me?”

Matt shakes his head ‘No,’ but he’s still angry. “It’s not a big deal if we’re public if we’re both happy in this relationship,” he says with a sternness in his voice that says don’t push it.

“But-“

“But? Are you not happy?” Matt raises a brow with a question.

“Obviously I'm not happy, Matt! I’m not your fuck buddy; I’m your girlfriend. I shouldn’t have to act like I’m in the shadows all the time. I don’t want to be in your videos or anything! I just want you to acknowledge me as your girlfriend!” you claim lightly, your voice emotionally raising in pitch because everything you say, Matt ignores.

Matt ignores this too, further frustrating you. You know he’s paying attention to your words too, because of the way his face changes and the way his grip on the steering wheel is constantly tight.

He doesn’t respond, just lets out a deep sigh.

You feel a wave of emotions crashing over you, hitting you like a bus, and a fat tear rolls down your cheek in silence.

Matt notices this.

“Y/N…” he moves his hand from the steering wheel to your thigh, rubbing up and down soothingly while keeping his other hand occupied with steering.

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me now,” you say, voice wobbling with emotion.

“Look, I’m sorry-“

”Can we go public?”

“Y/N,”

You cut him off, “Then you're not sorry.”

“That’s not fair.”

The argument is futile. Both of you know this, so you don’t continue because the streetlights start blurring in your eyes and the stereo becomes too much, making your chest tight with emotion.

You don’t want to be in the car anymore. The car with him.

“Matt let me out,” you say, feeling the car come to a halt at a stoplight. “What are you on about?” Matt questions, gritting his teeth, leaning back momentarily against the car’s seat.

“I don’t want to be in here with you anymore,” your voice wavers.

“It’s raining, Y/N.”

“Let me out.”

Matt begrudgingly complies, clicking the locked door open. You snap your seatbelt off and step out of the car, immediately feeling the wetness of rain droplets against your head. You walk out of the road, heels clanking on the pavement as you do so.

When the stoplight turns green, you watch Matt drive away. It’s not his fault, you try to tell yourself. You insisted on getting out. But still, your emotions overtake your mind, and inevitable tears slip from your eyes.

You wish you and Matt didn’t argue. No. You wish you had his jacket, but also that you didn’t fight. So instead of standing still, you start your trek to your apartment. A twenty-minute walk in your not-so-impervious satin dress.

༯ ༯ ༯

When you get home, the sadness hits you. Was the argument worth it? What if he’s so mad he breaks up with you?

Your negative thoughts only have you crying harder, so you trek to your room, strip off your rain-ridden clothes, and take a warm shower, washing the salt of rain off your body as you tremble with sobs.

You shower for far too long, running your hands through your wet hair as a silky comfort and washing the repentance of the day off your physical form. Not your mental form.

When you step out of the shower, the tile is cold. You throw on a robe and make a beeline for your dresser where you left your phone, needing to talk to Matt.

To Matt Sturniolo: I’m sorry for getting mad

To Matt Sturniolo: I miss you

To Matt Sturniolo: I’m sorry I’m not mad anymore

You take a second, typing anxiously as you wait for his read receipt to show up. When it does, he texts back instantaneously.

From Matt Sturniolo: Are you okay? I’m coming over.

Matt’s at yours in minutes, shortening the drive after making half a dozen illegal turns.

You’re waiting at the door when he knocks, opening the front before his fist can meet the door a second time. When the door creaks open, you're met with a wet, worried Matt. His hair is damp, clinging to his forehead after only the walk from the parking lot to your door. His eyes scan your body as you awkwardly stand in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice sad. Matt takes note of this and steps closer to you, closing your apartment door behind you and pulling you into his chest.

He runs a thumb over your cheek, wiping off the remnants of stray tears, and sighs, feeling your heartbeat against his chest.

“It's not your fault, baby. I was being a dick,” Matt says apologetically. You wrap your arms tightly around his waist, embracing yourself in the hug and sniffling against him.

“I am happy in our relationship. I lied,” you mutter.

“I know, but you could be happier,” Matt hums, pulling away from the hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling his phone out. He swipes for a bit before turning it to you.

“You like this picture?” he asks. It's a picture of both of your eyes that you’d taken in a moment of pure happiness, right after you’d complimented how his irises looked in the sun. You nod, unsure of what he’s doing but smile out a ‘yeah.’

He’s on his phone for another two minutes before he clicks it off. “Check my Instagram,” he says. You pull your phone out of your back pocket and open the app, viewing Matt's most recent post.

From Matt Sturniolo:

[ghostlylittlemoths]

Streamer ellie x fem reader

Wc: dont know dont care Cw: slightly suggestive, kissing, ellie being ellie, slurs from ellie(fag) pet names(babe, sweetcheeks) $uicide joke once, ellie talks the way I do irl, ellie raging at roblox, swearing bc why not its ellie

"FUCK YOU!"

You were startled from your sleep when you heared screaming from the end of the hallway all the way from yours and Ellies shared room. Reaching over to Ellies side of the bed you felt that she wasn't there. You reached for your phone to check the time.

3:36am

Fuck

Putting two and two together you realized that ellie was the one screaming. Was she playing a game? Getting ready to get up to see why she was screaming, another scream confirmed your assumption.

"I FUCKING HATE THIS FUCKING GAME! -oh thank you for the subs 'elliegetsnobitches' fuck you I do get bitches unlike you fags."

Ellie was streaming. Not wanting to actually get up at the moment you opened twitch and went to her live to see what she was playing. Your lovely wonderful girlfriend was playing none other than roblox.

'absanderson sent $20'proof or it didn't happen'

"You want me to prove I get bitches unlike you? Bet." she said while getting up from her chair. Then it clicked, she was coming to get you. Which meant you had to be on camara in front of her fans. You and Ellie didn't have a public relationship due to you being nervous about how fans would react. The only person that knew was Dina, because she was Ellies' best friend. And Joel because he was basically Ellies' dad and he had already have a feeling you two were dating.

Watching Ellie leave the view of the camara, you heared the patter of her feet coming down the hallway. You turned off your phone and closed your eyes hoping that she thought you were sleeping and would leave you alo-

"I know you're awake I saw your username come into the stream" she said whispering into your ear. Well there's no use pretending. You turned over in the bed to face your girlfriend.

"Do I have to?" You asked hoping she would change her mind. "Please babe, they keep clowning me and saying I get no bitches" she complained, giving you puppy eyes.

Well fuck me

You sigh. "...fine". Ellies face lightend up and pulled you out of the bed and down the hallway to her streaming room but told you to wait outside for "dramatic effect".

"I'm back bitches. You asked to see 'the bitches' so here she is" she turns to face the door and signaled for you to come in.

Opening the door you slowly walked in and crouched next to Ellie you you could be seen in frame. You heared a ding signaling someone sent Ellie something.

'Elliesrealwife sent $10' are you paying her to be there?'

"IM NOT PAYING HER SHE REALLY IS MY GIRLFRIEND" Ellie whined throwing herself into the back of her chair almost tipping it over.

'Absanderson sent $5' I dont think she is real man'

'Nutmaster sent $5' is your girlfriend single?'

'Jessethecoolest sent $5' dude you are scaring the huzz'

"SHE IS REAL AND NO SHES NOT SINGLE! isn't that right sweetcheeks?" She said leaning in for a kiss which you stopped with your hand but that didn't stop her from kissing your cheek.

"Dont call me that I will kill you, everyone watching, and myself" you said, running your fingers through Ellies slightly knotted hair. Watching the comments roll in you felt yourself ease up and felt as you were pulled into Ellies lap.

'Dinaisthebest sent $5' is this rizz? As the kids would say'

"I dont know? Is my rizz working?" Ellie asked you, looking at you from her place on your shoulder. "Please shut up" you said with a small tired smile as you leaned down to capture Ellies lips with yours.

The kiss got more heated and you had turned around to face Ellie then pulled away remembering that you were on a live stream. With a shy smile you turned and got off Ellie who was losing it at the comments

'Eillesgf - so she does get bitches'

'Les4els - drop the onlyfans'

'Leslady - i dont know which I want to be'

'Dinaisthebest - busted'

"Welp yall I have been streaming since 10 and it's now 4am and I'm like 99.3% sure I woke this lady from yelling" she said pointing at you. You rested you head on her shoulder as she said her goodbyes to the viewers and ended stream.

"Ready for bed?"she asked standing up and shutting off the lights and her monitors and dragging you out of the room and down the hallway to your shared bedroom. "You know I am" you said as you sat on the bed and tiredly watched ellie as she changed into her boxers and black wife-pleaser and got into bed behind you. She wrapped her arms around your waist and pushed her face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

"How much you want to bet people clipped us making out and are posting in on twitter.com?" You asked with a tired laugh as you grabbed her hand that was on your stomach to hold it in your hand.

She let out a hard but quite laugh and intertwined her fingers with yours. "I bet they are." She said and drifted off to sleep along with you

The next morning your thoughts were right. People did clip your makeout and posted it on Twitter with the captions #needthat

This is for literally one who asked for this @myrruwrites

Sorry If its not what you wanted and anyone who saw this before this author note literally so sorry if you read it and it wasn't finished I didn't mean to post it

[bueckers-sturniolo]

you are in love. (part 2 to the alchemy)

paige bueckers x fem!reader

read part 1 here!

word count: 1,234!

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol, drunk!paige, smooching. ALSO, if u listen to the song and read, i skipped around and used different lyrics to make this flow easier and more understandable.

authors note: HI GUYS! i wrote the alchemy 10-ish days ago now, and you guys have shown me so much love and support. i cannot express how happy i am that you guys enjoy my writing :) i hope you guys love, love, love this. i love love love you. part 3 coming soon, hopefully :)

p.s. all of the words highlighted in blue are references back to you are in love. enjoy :)

one look, dark room. meant just for you. time moved too fast, you play it back. buttons on a coat, lighthearted joke. no proof, not much. but, you saw enough. small talk, he drives. coffee at midnight. the light reflects, the chain on your neck. he says,’look up,’ and your shoulders brush. no proof, one touch, but you felt enough.

the night after the game was a blur. well, partly. the team was now at a restaurant-bar type thing. some of you were drinking, some of you aren’t. paige was, which, everytime the team went out, she did. but, this time is… different.

shes always a little touchy-feely when drunk, but, she’s taking it to a whole new level tonight. right now, you’re talking to kk, sitting down, and she’s somewhere taking shots with azzi. you’ve been keeping an eye on her all night, but…. she tends to wander.

you’re currently drinking an espresso martini, even though it was close to midnight and it probably wasn’t the best idea to drink coffee at midnight. but, who cares? it’s fun.

“im surprised paige isn’t attached to your hip, right now.” kk says, snapping you out of your daze with a light-hearted joke.

you chuckle, shaking your head. your gaze meets paige again. she finally locks eyes with you, and smiles lopsidedly.

“holy shit, she’s hammered.” you whisper to kk, and kk laughs, “yeah, she normally gets a little tipsy after a win.” you nod at that, then signal for paige to walk over to you guys.

she makes her way over to you guys, immediately walking up behind you and resting her chin on your shoulder.

“hey, hiccup, killer. what’s up?” paige says, slurring her words. you can smell the alcohol. maybe it’s from the close proximity, maybe she’s just chugging alcohol like it’s spring break. you have no clue, but regardless, it kinda makes your stomach turn. it’s not a great smell.

“just checkin’ on you,” you mumble, turning your face to look at her. she looks at you from the corner of her eyes, smiling slightly. “how much have you had to drink?”

“a few, not a lot…” she says, still smiling. you chuckle, looking back at kk with a ‘are you hearing this bitch lie straight through her teeth?’ look, and kk just smiles.

paige’s hand made its way around your body, then brings it up to your collarbones, fiddling with the necklace around your neck. she hums as she looks at it.

“it’s sparkly.” paige says, her drunk mind being weirdly fascinated with the way the light reflects the chain on your neck. you smile at that, finding it absolutely fucking adorable how interesting she finds this necklace, even though you wear it all the time.

one step, not much. but, it said enough. you kiss on sidewalks,

by the time paige is ready to leave, it’s 1:46 am. the rest of the team had left already, getting bored of waiting for paige to hurry up. but, you felt obligated to stay. so, you call an uber, then you guys stand outside on the sidewalk. it’s december, and it’s extremely cold outside. you and paige stand huddled up to each other, shivering. your teeth started chattering together, and paige couldn’t bare it anymore.

that’s when paige wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you into her. it wasn’t really for her sake, at all. it was for yours.

you rest your head into the crook of her neck, pushing your hands inbetween your bodies to seek some sort of warmth. you guys stand like this in silence for a few minutes. then, her drunk temptations started to get the best of her. she gently nudges your face with her shoulder, signaling for you to lift it up.

as you do, she looks at you for a few seconds. you were extremely confused as to why she would take away your sense of heat, and then she kisses you. she kisses you.

what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck, is your only thought. after a few moments of shock, you decide to kiss back, bringing your hands up to her face. it feels wrong, you feel guilty. she’s so drunk she probably doesn’t even know what she’s doing.

but, drunk actions are sober thoughts. so, fuck it, you think.

as the uber rolls up beside you guys, she breaks the kiss. she then just lets go of you and walks off like it didn’t fucking happen. what. the. fuck. is still your only thought.

you fight, then you talk.

the next morning, you decide to ask her about it. bad choice, but hell, why not?

“so… you just…” you stay silent for a few seconds, “don’t remember kissing me? at all?” you say, getting frustrated. you had no real reason as to getting angry over this, but, you wanted her to remember it. you wanted her to have meant it.

“no, i do not fuckin’ remember it, why is it even such a big deal? friends kiss all the time as a joke.” paige says, shrugging. she’s sitting across from you on your couch right now, and she’s sitting as far as she can. why the fuck is she doing this?

“paige, i just-“ you cut yourself off, running your hands over your face. how do you defend the fact that you’re angry about your best friend not remembering kissing you while drunk? it’s not even that big of a deal, really.

“look, im sorry i did it. im sorry i dont remember. it was a mistake, y/n.” she says, sighing. okay, fuck you too, then, you think. you didn’t really want to talk about it anymore, honestly. her saying it was a mistake was something that was so hurtful that it kinda made you have that feeling in your stomach when it feels like your heart has actually dropped down onto it. (does that even make sense? let me know)

now or never, now or never, now or never, you repeat in your head.

you take a deep breath, opening your mouth. then, you close it again. paige is staring dead at you. she’s always been good at just making eye contact with anyone and everyone, it made you kinda nervous. you weren’t bad or uneasy with eye contact normally, but with her… it was different.

“what if i wanted you to mean it, paige?” you say, looking her dead in the eyes.

she stares. all that she can is fucking stare at you. “what?” she mumbled out, quietly. “what do you mean, ‘what?’ its pretty damn clear. what if i wanted you to mean it when you kissed me? i know you were drunk, i understand that. but, what if i have been praying since it happened that you intended for that to happen and the only way you could push yourself to finally do it was when you were drunk off your ass?” you begin rambling out of frustration of her not responding with what you want her to.

you want her to admit that she wanted to kiss you. you wanted her to admit that every time she saw you, it took every fiber and atom in her body to hold back from kissing you. but, she didn’t. she stares at you in shock, eyes wide. in disbelief, even.

“what?”

a/n: sorry for the cliffhanger. anyway, part 3? 😁

[tayraedoll]

Drag Me to Hell

You purchase an old radio at an antique store that turns out to be haunted as fuck. Will you successfully banish the demon back to hell before he can take you with him? Just to be safe MDNI 18+ Only!

So I meant to write this as a one-shot but it quickly got away from me so now it is a full, multi-chapter fic. What can I say? I have lost all control of my life...

TW: Horror, Alastor is his own warning, blood, gore, swearing, crude and dark humor, hallucinations, reader is not an exorcist expert- don't try this at home, more tags to be added as the story progresses.

Part 2

"Do we really have to go in?", you whine to your best friend Kate, scrunching your nose in disgust at the literal shack with a rusty, old "Antiques" sign.

Kate giggles at your antics,"Oh come on; it'll be fun! Who knows what treasures we might find?" She grabs your arm and pulls you through the door behind her; the little bell atop the door chimes merrily to signal your entrance. You look around, as far as you were concerned there was junk piled high in every direction. Taking stock of the room you were in you notice old Coke bottles, cigar boxes, a china cabinet filled with those creepy ass 'Precious Moments' figurines, and a shit ton of clothes that were even too outdated for your grandmother to wear.

"You're counting literal trash as treasure now? That explains your dating history", you deadpan at your friend.

"Bitch I said we MIGHT find treasure! But you gotta dig through the dirt to reach it first", Kate rolls her eyes at you but smiles at your jab. Gentle bullying was just how you showed each other your love. She walks further into the store, perusing through all the trinkets on the shelves. You follow after her, trying your best to not make eye contact with those Precious Moments dolls whose eyes seemed to follow you as you pass by.

You enter an adjacent room, this one filled with tin cooking instruments in varying degrees of disrepair. A portly, older gentleman with greying hair sat behind a register with a large tabby cat on the table. The cat lets out a loud yowl at the pair of you but the man says nothing as he watches you carefully in case you try to steal anything. 'What in here is even worth stealing?' you think to yourself. You smile at him politely and quickly move onto the next room, this one filled with old toys...yikes.

"So how do you know when you find "treasure?", you ask, using your fingers to put air quotations around the word treasure. Kate picks up a particularly disturbing looking baby doll and wiggles it in front of your face.

"When you find something you just can't leave without!", she laughs as you flinch back, glaring at her- you had told her your hatred of dolls in good faith and here she was using that information against you. She places the demonic toy back on the shelf and you give it another glare for good measure- not today Annabelle.

The next area was only slightly less disturbing; it looked like a middle-aged housewife was allowed to decorate it with all the "Live, Laugh, Love" and "Wine a Little, Laugh A Lot" signs all around. "Jesus Fucking Christ does this place never end?! It didn't look this big from outside!", you exclaim in exasperation. Kate carded through a stack of pictures and paintings.

"Perhaps if you actually looked for something that strikes your fancy you'd have a better time", she absentmindedly replied. You sigh but raise your hands in surrender, she had a point there. You make your way to the back, knowing nothing in this basic Karen of a room was going to please you.

When you reach the next room your eyes light up,"A ha! Now this room is interesting!", you call back to Kate. It was a music-themed room full of old records, CD's, posters, and stereos. As a music major in college you felt your heart soar at the sight of all the little pieces of music history surrounding you. You immediately dig into the records, wondering if you could find something new for your collection that was in decent shape. Maybe it was old school of you, but nothing beat the crisp sound of a record; records made you feel like the music was surrounding you, like you could see and taste the notes making it a full-body sensory experience.

Kate joins you, letting out a curt laugh,"I should have guessed it would be a music room." Your frown slightly as you reach the end of the records without finding anything of note for your collection. You sigh heavily at the disappointment that fills your chest.

"Too bad this room turned out to be a du-", you trail off as you catch sight of it. On the top shelf at the far end of the room sat an ornate, antique radio. It was cathedral-shaped, made of a dark- almost black- wood, the face painted a bright crimson. The speakers resembled a throne and below the control panel were large, yellow slices that resembled flames...or a very creepy smile. You gently plucked the fragile-looking radio from the shelf; it was a lot sturdier than it looked, feeling pretty hefty in your hands. You turn it around in your hands, it appeared to be battery-powered like most radios were prior to the 1930's. You wondered if it would work today.

"Find something interesting?", Kate asked beside you. She made a face at the old radio, "No offense but that thing is creepy AF!"

"It is no creepier than that doll earlier!", you defend your unique find. "I think I'll purchase it", you state with finality and make your way back to the front. The old man speaks little more than just to tell you your total cost, the cat joining him as they stare at you distrustfully. 'Jeez, cranky old coot', you think.

Back at your home you tinker around with the radio, polishing it up a bit and adding some new batteries. Your home was small, just a 1-bedroom and bathroom place that you were renting on the outskirts of New Orleans. You decorated modestly, a bookshelf with your favorite novels and records took up an entire wall of your small living room. The TV was small and pushed into a corner, you really only used it for background noise most days. You had one small but comfortable couch that you mostly used to work on. You were a writer for OffBeat, New Orleans' local music magazine. It was a great gig that let you work from home, even if you weren't compensated the best being a new writer on the team. You spent most of your days writing about Jazz and The Blues, local concerts and events coming up, and interviewing rising artists.

You placed the radio up on top of your bookshelf, you'd try to get it to work tomorrow. As you were pushing it back onto the shelf you felt a sharp sting in your finger, "Ah! Fuck!", you exclaim as you quickly pull your finger back. You inspect it, finding a drop of blood leaking out of your skin; you must have accidentally cut yourself on one of the yellow ornamental parts. You raise your bleeding finger to your lips and gently suck the small wound to soothe it. Sparing one last glance up to the radio, you turn off the light and head to bed.

Completely missing how the smile of the radio that just bit into you started to eerily glow in the dark after you.

[softfem-dom]

just thinking about having to break a fight between the dog!hybrid outsiders and cat!hybrid bob.

It was late at night, the moon shining up in the sky. It was cold inside the house, but a hoodie or a sweater would keep the chill away from your boys' bodies. You were in the kitchen with Darry, putting out the groceries you had bought earlier and left forgotten inside the bags on the table. The big German Sephered was helping you stock the —four different types of— cereals boxes on the cabinets while you were simply hiding the just bought cans of beer behind the vedgetables inside the fridge so Bob or Dallas wouldn't take them.

It was calm, Two-Bit and Soda were watching the mickey mouse program on the TV. Ponyboy and Johnny were in your bedroom, just reading your books —and going through your drawers but what you didn't know wouldn't hurt you—. Darry was with you, Bob was sleeping like the lazy bitch he was and Dallas and Steve were arm wrestling on the coffee table.

Or so you thought.

While you were putting the bananas inside the fridge, Soda came in with that nervous twitchy smile of his that always signaled something was going or about to go wrong.

"Soda" Darry warned, slowly turning to look at his brother with a quirked eyebrow.

Soda just gulped nervously, almost comically adjusting the collar of his shirt as he mumbled something way too low and fast for you to hear. "what?" you asked, confusion on your features as you slowly closed the door of the fridge. Sensing you were about to have to intervene in something.

"Dallas and Steve are barking at Bob about the time when he almost drowned him on the fountain" the Golden Retriever all-but blurted out. Words and 's' slurred into one another.

"shit"

You were quickly walking over to the living room, opening the door with a rushed haste to your movements. You knew that Dallas was a damn Canary Mastiff, he was both a stray and a hunting dog. A hound dog. And he had the fangs and fists to prove it. You couldn't risk Dallas getting violent on Bob and potentially sending the —not so—poor Ragdoll cat to the hospital.

,,

You walked into both Dallas and Steve snarling at Bob, and the smug shit wasn't doing much to put the situation on his favour. Dallas had Bob pinned to the floor, his hands balled into fists over the cat's shoulders. Baring his teeth at him, while Steve was next to Dallas with his arms crossed.

"you know what dogs are?" Bob spat, a shit eating grin on his face. The little bitch was way too over confident on this.

Dallas growled, Steve's right eye twiching, while Bob laid on the ground with that smirk of his. —the one you sometimes got the urge to slap off of his face—.

"dirty mutts with behavioural issues"

You saw Dallas raising a fist, one that was going to end directly on Bob's face and probably break his nose, but you were faster. In the time the three of them were glaring at each other you had strided over, and had managed to get a grip under Bob's arms fast enough to pull him up from the ground and away from Dallas' fist —that ended up hitting the floor—.

"Doll—! what the fuck?" Dallas hissed, shaking his fist with a slight wince. Both angry and annoyed at you for letting his fist hit the floor.

"stop it, no cussing" you scolded with a frown at both Dallas and Steve, who was rolling his eyes at you, as you readjusted Bob in your arms.

The cat happyly, and smugly, curled up into your arms. His tail curled around your leg, wrapping around the skin of your thigh, as he rested his chin on your shoulder. "suck my dick" the cat smugly flashed a shit eating grin at both dogs. But you were quick to tug on his ear with a frown.

"that goes for you too, mr. I run my mouth way more than necessary" you scolded again, this time to the cat in your arms, who only huffed and rolled his eyes at Dallas' "hah! fuck you"

"you're both grounded."

"what!?!? but doll—!" "the fuck? I am the victim in this situation!"

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

Chapter 8

Previous chapter here

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Cw for this chapter- mention of smut, mention of 18+ themes. Cussing, bathing together, mention of war, description of scarring, child abuse, sandors past, Joffrey being a little bitch, merryn trant.

Sandor stands next to joffrey in between him and cersi as a messenger has arrived. 

“Your g-grace.” the man said out of breath hurrying into the great hall as he ran most of the way. 

“Speak man!” jeoffry barks already annoyed. 

“HIs late grace, the king's brother stannis barathion is planning to invade king's landing…and t-take the throne for himself as it is his birthright.” he says panting but talking as fast he can for the annoyed new child king. 

“Where did you hear this?” cersi speaks. The man approaches cautiously, side -eyed sandor afraid of him. He hands her a piece of paper while bowing. She takes it from his hands. He backs up from the royals and waits as she reads the letter. 

“Fuck..” she says under her breath. 

“Mother?” Joffrey asks, looking up at her as she now stands. 

“Ser merryn gathers as many men as you can to begin fortifying the walls. Tell the iron mages and blacksmiths to begin preparation for incoming weapons.” she says handing the letter to her handmaiden before ser merryn bows and begins to walk off. 

“Go with him dog.” jeoffry speaks  looking up at the hound as he grumbles and then follows ser merryn reluctantly. He'd much rather have his dick buried inside of you right now back in your shared chambers. Your soft body on his as your whimpers and moans echo off the stone walls of the room as you whine out his name telling him how good he feels, but no.

Hes following merryn fucking trant out to the kings gaurd and outside the castle walls to inform all of the soon to be burning kingdom. 

“Don't be so silent now clegane. I know you're just jumping under that hard exterior.'' Merryn says. 

“Shut the fuck up. Do you want me to beat you into the mud again? " Sandor speaks immediately, shutting the other knight up. Passing through the halls you and Sansa walk down a guard and two other ladies are waiting following behind you both. Your arms are linked and you both laugh.

You wear a light gray dress, with an off the shoulder bodice that's lined with fur, the golden and jeweled accents scattering the bodice no doubt a choice from the queen. Your skirt is held in place yet is flowy. Sansa wears something similar but in a light blue. 

Sansa gives your arm a light squeeze signaling for you to look ahead and you are seeing sandor with ser merryn. You both meet at the hall as ser merryn and sandor both stop giving a quick bow before speaking. 

“Princess, my lady.” ser merryn says. 

“Where are you both off too you're never assigned together?” you speak. 

“None of your concern my lady.” Merryn speaks you raise your eyebrows at his sudden rudeness

“Well..then I hope my beloved husband will enlighten me?”you say turning your head to sandor fixing your eyes on his. 

“No. he will not.” Sandor speaks coldly before looking up at the other guard behind you both. 

“You. Go with trant to the amory.” he gruffly speaks. The knight nod and bows to you before ser merryn and him walk onward to the journey they were set on. 

“Sandor?” you ask. 

“Stannis Baratheon is going to invade kings landing and take the throne in 3 days.” he speaks once ser merryn is gone from ear shot. 

“What?” Sansa speaks. Before letting go of you. 

“Excuse me.” she hurries off her maid following her and you and sandor and your hand maiden are left in the halls.

“Are you certain?” you ask. 

“Yes. one of varys messengers sent the note.” he says 

“I'll arrange for you and I to take a ship to Volantis then.” you say. 

“Don't bother, I won't be on it with you.” he says, looking down at you. 

“W-what? Why not?” you ask, stepping closer to him. 

“I'm staying here, I have to fight on the king's orders,” he says. You scoff a sarcastic smile forming on your face. 

“And since when have you carried what the boy king has to order?” you roll your eyes and cross your arms at his stupid notion. 

“Since he married you to me.” he speaks plainly now, finding his notion no longer stupid as you drop your arms to your sides. You slightly bite your lip, a sheen of blush flowing to your cheeks as your eyes revert down quickly before looking back up at him. 

“O-oh..” you stutter out. 

“I'll have more guards posted outside your doors.” he says before moving around you and heading off down the hall to assign guards to be posted. You stand there watching as he walks away before he disappears past the corner. 

“If it's not too much to mention my lady, but, I think the lord clegane may love you.” your maiden says. A small smile forms on your lips. 

“I think you're right.” you say smiling at her before you both turn to continue your walk down the hall. 

—---

You didn't see Sandor for the rest of the day after he informed you. He was outside the wall and in the knightstand training area. Watched out to the court yard as more troops of knights marched in but sandor was nowhere to be seen. You missed him. 

You missed him until the night fell and you were in your room. He wasn't lying about having more guards posted outside the room, instead of the usual two three were now eight. Two on either side of the door and two across from your door posted on either side. Your handmaids scurried past them as they entered and exited.

“Will you draw a bath please?” you ask one of them. She nodded and left along with another to collect the contents for bathing. You sighed and undid the lacing of the back of the dress you wear. The stretch of reaching behind you a much needed one as the ache of your muscles from your night with sandor last was still lingering. 

The doors open once again making you turn your head in confusion as to why your hand maidens were back so fast. But you were met happily with the sight of your husband. He sets down his sword on the side of the door against the wall. He groans annoyingly as he does. 

“I haven't seen you all day. Are you alright?” you ask, walking up. You meet him and place your hands on  his cheeks; he slightly leans into your soft touch. Your palm resting on the scarred part of his face. 

“Bunch of cunts.” he grumbles. 

“I have the maids drawing a bath ... .would you ... .would you like to join me?” you ask. Sandor goes quiet bringing his hand up to yours keeping it placed on your cheek. 

“Okay.” he simply says. Your heart jumps at his answer. 

“I'll need something from you first.” you say. 

“Mm.” he answers. 

“Can you unlace my dress?” you ask. He lets out a soft chuckle and nods. You take your hand from his face only to catch his hand in yours and lead him to the bed. 

“When you ask me to unlace your dress, little fox…” he trails off as you sit him on the bed. 

“I mean unlace my dress.” you say turning around standing in the space between his legs. You move your hair to the side as he had come up feeling the fabric on your waist making you shiver before he truly moves to the back of your dress and begins to unlace the dress.

You feel it becoming looser and looser with each segment of lacing until it's loose enough to slip off your body. You step out of it as you bend down, picking it up and laying it on the space next to him on the bed. Left in your underclothes sandors hands find your waist again, turning you around to face him. 

He pulls you closer to him leaning his head up but not too much as even as sitting he's still comfortably level with you. His lips catch yours in a kiss feeling the softness he was deprived of all day. You moan into his mouth as his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips and your arms around his neck. The kiss is only broken when the doors open once again your hand maids arrive with bathing materials and begin to fill the tub in the corner but not before apologizing for intruding on the two of you. 

You admire the features of your husband, his scruff already growing back from shaving it thank goodness on your behalf. You sit on his lap, the hot water warming you both. His arms rest on either side of the bathtub as his eyes search you. No matter how many times he will view your body nothing will ever compare to its beauty. The moment calms him but the focus is to keep the blood rushing to his cock while your breasts are virtually centered in front of his face. His knuckle tightens the side of the tub as he closes his eyes. 

“S-sorry.” you speak, causing his eyes to open again and his grip to cease. He looks up at you in confusion. Your hands are now resting on his collar bones. 

“It's not that..” he says realizing you pulled away thinking he closed his eyes due to you touching his scars. He takes your hand bringing it back to his face somehow finding a sort of comfort in you tracing his marks. 

“Does it still hurt?” You ask him as you move his hair out of his face, your fingers brushing against his scar. 

“No.” He says 

“Good…what happened?” You ask

“I’m sure some servant has told you the gruesome story.” He says slowly.

“Yes…but..I’m asking you. What happend?” You ask again.

“Like you’ve heard little fox, I was pressed into the fire like a nice juicy mutton chop by my brother.” He says gesturing to his scar. 

“Why.” You ask. 

“Though I stole one of his toys, I didn't steal it, I was just borrowing it…playing with it. I was 6 or so.” He says you tilt your head slightly brushing your thumb over his cheek. 

“The pain was bad, the smell was worse…but…” he sighs before continuing. 

“The worst thing was that it was my brother who did it. My older brother. My father who protected him..told everyone my bedding caught fire. And my mother…wouldn’t even look at me said i was too ugly to love.” He says eyes averting from yours. It's quiet, the only noise is the crackling of the fire and the light swishing of the water. 

“I can look at you...” You say moving closer to him. His eyes make contact with yours like before. 

“...And I love you, Sandor.” You say he lets out a relieved sort of sigh before pulling you to him placing a much need kiss on your forehead.

chapter 9 here

Tag list- @stephyshadows @germansarechill

[lemonnsss]

Moral of the Story pt. 3

Warnings: not BETA'D we die like men.

MotS Masterlist

Taglist: @vicmc624, @mostlymarvelgirl, @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy, @moonlightreader649, @whattheduckisupkyle, @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan, @mrsbarnes32557038, @imyourbratzdoll

Word count: 2.1k

“Oh, so soon?” he leaned in, obviously interested in my request, “And what might your boon be?”

“As you can probably guess, I need a job. I have an interview tomorrow morning for the role of your PA. If that doesn’t pan out -because of anyone's request outside of your own- I still want a good-paying job with decent benefits. Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll cut it short, you’re hired.”

“Please, I don’t need your pity.”

"Oh, don't worry, I wouldn't hire you out of pity. It's because of what you did just now. I gave you barely any details, and you came up with a sub-par solution." Satisfied with his answer, he reaches over and takes a sip of my coffee. 

"Sub-par says I go out, find your bodyguard, and drag him back here." He visibly aspirates, coughing into a napkin for a minute or so. I got up, got a straw, and returned. By the time I sat down, he had regained most of his composure.

"You had a good plan that led to a good solution," gesturing to himself, "I'm a rich asshole. Are we happy?” A slight rasp remained in his voice.

“Sufficiently. I accept the role of your PA, Mr. Stark. When should I start?"

"After your interview with Ms. Potts. You did say that if anyone aside from me was against you as my PA, you'd be fine with it."

I leaned back, covering my eyes with my hand, ”Yeah, I did."

"Don't try denying it. JARVIS has been recording- I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"I fully acknowledge and stand by my previous statement. And, did you just admit to illegally recording our conversation?” My other hand raised pointing at him, “If so, that would be quite unfortunate for you and Stark Industries.” I separated my fingers to see his shocked yet slightly confused expression.

"Well, shit.”

I lowered my hand to the arm of the chair, tilting my head slightly, “Did you think I wouldn’t own up to my word? Please, Tony -can I call you Tony? I’m going to call you Tony- I do have morals, they’re a bitch, but they’re there. When I make promises, I follow through with them.” I look down at my lap, my hands wrapped around my stomach, “I hate people who break their promises. They are the worst kind of people. All that does is hurt those around them, but they’re too self-centered to realize that until it’s too late- sometimes even then it doesn’t click.” I glance up, he’s leaning closer to me, a worried look plastered across his face.

I straighten, collect my things, and move to get up, “I suppose I’ll see you at my interview tomorrow, Mr. Stark.” I walk away and out of the café, hearing the bell ring as I walk out.

I fell face down into my bed, arms spread out. “I just met THE Anthony Edward Stark and acted like it was no big deal. What is wrong with me?” I grabbed a pillow, held it to my chest, curled up into the fetal position, and screamed. “How could I have acted like it was nothing? He’s an A-list celebrity and I just brushed it off!” I prop up onto my elbows, my hands extending forward.

I spent the afternoon and evening just watching TV and reading. While I didn’t typically read graphic books, Hemingway and Remarque’s book had been sitting in my collection untouched for far too long, and it wasn’t necessarily a horrible way to finish the day. About halfway through “All Quiet On The Western Front” I realized just how depressing this book was and how glad I hadn't gone over it with my high school classes. The case remained much the same for “A Farewell to Arms”.

My phone alarm went off, signaling it was time to start getting ready for bed. I got up to grab it, shutting off the tone. I stood up, went to the bathroom, completed my nightly routine, and set out my clothes for my interview, although it seemed I had been hired in all but formalities.

I woke up the next day with a slight ache in my bones but, nothing like the previous day. I got ready and headed out to the Stark Industries headquarters. When I arrived I wasn’t necessarily shocked. The lobby was sleek and modern, bustling with the morning rush. I walked up to the receptionist, an older woman, and told her that I was there for the interview for the role of Mr. Stark’s assistant. I confirmed she looked me up and down before saying my name aloud. She handed me a card, stating it was a single use and would be deactivated once I left the building before pointing me to the elevator, guarded by the head of security, Mr. Stark’s bodyguard, Happy Hogan.

I walked over he looked at me slightly puzzled as I walked up to the elevator, sliding the activated card. It took a moment or two before the door opened and I could not be happier. I walked in and the doors shut. 

“Crap, I didn’t get the floor.” I placed my face in my hand, aggravated at my forgetfulness.

An electronic voice rang out, “I believe I can be of some assistance, Mx.”.

I screamed, “What the fuck?” I backed into a corner, grabbing the rails.

“Apologies, I seem to have startled you. I’m JARVIS, Mr. Stark’s AI.”

“O-okay? Can you send me up to Mrs. Potts’ floor?”

“Of course.”

The elevator ride passes quickly thanks to Stark’s AI. As the doors open JARVIS informs me that the door on the right leads to Ms. Potts’ office. I walk up to the door and knock, ”Come in!” A voice calls out. I open the door and introduce myself.

Ms. Potts was a taller woman with blonde hair. She ran around frantically, “I’m so sorry, an urgent business meeting just came up. Would it be okay to reschedule your interview?”

“Yes, yes, of course. These things happen, I understand. Is there anything I can do to help?” I move close to her desk.

The look on her face shows she didn't expect my reaction. "Um, yes. In one of the piles over there. There should be twelve documents with the keywords Stark v. Hammer." She points over the corner where there are three medium-sized piles of papers

"Oh, is that all?"

"Yes, thank you. My assistant has been on sick leave for two weeks and my office has become an absolute mess." I hear the clink of metal on the ground. She squats down, looking for whatever it was that had fallen.

"Really, it's no problem. I've worked in worse offices, this is nothing."

"What do you mean?"

"The lawyer I worked for in college. He was a mess. He wouldn't let anyone move his things, so it just stayed that way until he needed a specific paper or file, and then he would send me looking. Apparently, he did that to all of his assistants after one of them, about five years before me, lost one of the major papers in a big case for the firm. He fired her immediately." I rifled through the paperwork, quickly finding a handful of the documents.

"That sounds horrible, although, from a business person's perspective I can somewhat understand." 

"Yeah, it was crazy. I worked for him for four years and almost feel bad for leaving. He finally adjusted and was comfortable with me going through the records." I had found all but one of the papers at this point and had looked through all three piles with no luck.

"Ms. Potts?"

She stands up, bumping her head on the edge of her desk, "Yes?"

"Sorry, um, are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine." She grasps the back of her head, wincing. She's clearly not.

"Are you sure? You hit your head pretty hard."

"Yes, really. What were you asking about?"

"Okay, are you sure all of the papers are over here? There's one missing. I've gone over the stacks at least three times." 

"Yes, of course. They're all there, I could've sworn." She walks over, or at least attempts to as about halfway she grasps her head, a small groan accompanying the action. I run over, offering my arm. She takes my arm, and I lower her to the ground, a quiet 'thank you' thrown in the midst.

There was a small cut on the back of her head, a small amount of blood flowing out. I place my fingers on the cut, using my powers to heal it. A sharp pain found its way to the back of my head for a moment before it fades.

"Thank you. I think I just needed to sit down for a moment. But, yes, all of the papers should be over here. It's odd that there's one missing."

"Could it be in a different stack?"

"It shouldn't be, then again, I haven't exactly been keeping this place clean enough to say. Crap! The meeting's supposed to start in a few minutes."

"How far into the meeting do you need the papers, and how long do you expect this meeting will be?"

"Maybe two-thirds of the way through and half an hour at the shortest. Why?"

"I'm gonna buy you some time, obviously. I'll look through the rest of the papers to find the missing page. Once I find it I'll head over to your meeting room and deliver the papers as if you'd asked for them just before the meeting began. How does that sound?"

She walks up to me and hugs me. As she pulls away she says, "You are a lifesaver! Thank you." She grabs her papers and walks out of her office, presumably to the meeting room as I stand there stunned, unmoving as a stone.

When her trance breaks, I start moving around the room, quickly checking each pile for the missing paper. I tried to stay in the general area she originally pointed me to with no luck. I slowly moved towards the desk, it was the only place I hadn't checked yet.

I went through the different stacks before finding the paper in the third, guess it really was the charm. I collected all of the papers in a manilla folder, finishing it off with a paperclip -just as a precaution. As I went to grab the door handle JARVIS told me which meeting room they were on.

I walked out to the small foyer between the two offices and entered the elevator. JARVIS took me to the correct floor.

I walked up to the door of the meeting room Ms. Potts was in and knocked on the door before entering. I looked inside to see a variety of old, white businessmen and Ms. Potts in front of a projector explaining something I wasn't about to pretend I understood. She looked relieved. 

I walked in just enough to where I could close the door, "Apologies, Ms. Potts, is this a bad time? I have the paperwork you requested."

"Oh no, not at all." She walked over to me, taking the folder from my hands. "Thank you." She whispered.

"It was no problem at all, Ma'am. Would you like me to continue working in your office, or go home for the day?"

"Please, wait in my office." She tipped her head slightly, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed.

I excused myself and headed back to Ms. Potts office. I waited for her in one of the armchairs at her desk. I checked my phone and realized I hadn't read the e-mail from Scott yet. I opened his message, the contents shocking me.

'Hi, I know it's been a while since we've talked, I mean really talked. I'm sorry, I chose a girl who saw me as the second choice over the person who's been my best friend practically since we met. I'm leaving the mansion too. Things have been crazy here. The professor is making Jean and Logan sub for all the classes you used to teach, and he'll be doing so for every teacher who leaves because of what happened. I'm planning on moving back to Anchorage. My parents left the house to Alex, but he gave everything to me in his will, making it mine. That house has to be 80 or so years old now, it's going to need a lot of repairs. I'll send you the address once it's all fixed up, maybe have some tea and catch up. 

See you someday,

Scott.'

[littledoyouknowwwman]

Out of hell (part 1)

Pairing : Josh Dun x Fem!Reader - Tyler Joseph x Fem!Reader Warning : Swearing, dystopia and oppressive government

Word count : 1846

Summary : As a result of your helpfulnes within the city, you’ve been asked to go and retrieve something that had been left by Banditos outside of Dema following their escape. You were supposed to return after one day. You were supposed to…

(Be kind please, I’m new to Tumblr writing + English’s not my first langage :,) Enjoy!!)

I run. I run as fast as I can. Why do I run, you might ask? I'm running because I've only got one day to complete the task I've been given: find a bag left outside of Dema by some Banditos when they escaped. Of course, it's no ordinary bag, otherwise it'd be silly to let a banal Dema resident as me go out like that. No. The bag contains potential information about a camp where rebels may have taken refuge, and given the intentions of Dema's top leaders, it could be the occasion to find them and take them back to the prison they thought they could leave so easily…

So I run, hoping in the back of my mind that I can save time to find a way to escape, without anyone suspecting a thing. I'm very efficient and serviable in the Dema community, so how could they suspect anything? 

Anyway, let's focus on finding this bag first : I'm sure it could be helpful once I’ll be facing the unknown, all by myself. 

The sound of my walkie-talkie seeking connection startled me. As I answer the call a few seconds later, an unfamiliar voice spoke to me.

"Hello Y/N. Hope you're not too tired already, because you still seem to be far away from your goal : anyway, here's the exact location of the bag. » The person didn’t seem to be friendly just by the way they talked.

I wrote down the information on my notebook. “Okay, you got it all?”, asks me the voice in a firm tone as if the person was asking me this just out of politeness.

"Yes, thank you, it should be alright. If anything happens, I will contact you." 

"No, don’t call back. If anything happens, please activate the alarm signal on your tracker. No one will be able to come and help you in case of an incident, but we will send a replacement and finish the mission for you." The voice tells me in a cold tone. Ah. Thank you for reassuring me, I absolutely do not shit myself right now. « Oh okay… » I said, becoming aware of the situation they put me in. « Bye then. Good luck. » and right after that, she hung up. Bitch. Nevermind, why would I shit myself thinking about something that won’t happen ? Why would even something happen to me? There isn’t much outside of Dema, the majority of the land out there is lost and lifeless. 

I sigh to myself and began to walk. From now on, I’ll focus on my surroundings and find the bag as soon as possible. I don’t want to go back to this shitty place. ever. 

[chansbabygirlsstuff]

Just a bet | Chapter 4

Paring:!badboyChanx!reader

Your POV

As I get out of the car, I can see the flashing colored lights that blind my sight as I wait for Chan to get out of the car I nervously stare at the people outside and inside the house, the sliding glass doors that let the visibility of everyone outside see what's going on inside.

"Are you ready?" he tells me next to some excited to get the party going "Yeah" I try to sound as excited as him.

We go inside the house, the atmosphere is hot, with bodies pressing along each other, dirty dancing on the floor, sloppy kisses in a corner, and alcohol by the door.

trying to squeeze through the crowd was a challenge as Chan took me to meet his friends, yeah, his friends, we'll see how that goes.

"what's up," Chan shouted trying to make a conversation with the boys over the loud music 

"This is y/n everyone!" he presented me to his group of friends 

everyone greeted you in a friendly way 

"hey I'm Felix" he made his way to your hand in a friendly way  "Hi Felix I'm Y/n"

"yeah we've heard of you," a boy with a cute smile said "Oh my name is I.N btw" 

you bowed a little to greet him. 

As everyone greeted you, you looked everywhere trying to get used to the ambiance around you

"Well, I'm going to get myself something to drink. do you want something?" he asked me shouting near my ear because of the loud music "Yeah sure," I said shyly as I felt him close to me he left me with his friends to enter the kitchen I felt the music get louder and people started jumping and dancing to the song, but I felt a grip my hip and sway me to the music and his hand guided lower to my leg centering in my lower body more and more so I turn around but encounter a random guy, the guy that was trying to dance with me!! my eyes widen and I slapped him in the face and left as I heard him scream "What the Fuck you bitch?" and run to the kitchen as I was passing by someone blew a cloud of smoke on my face, I coughed violently "What the fuck dude?!" I look back as he looks high as hell and smirks at me, I roll my eyes and look for Chan all over the big kitchen and see him leaning against a counter talking to a girl who is all over him touching his chest and almost putting her leg on top of him. 

I stare at him but his eyes find mine and he straightens his pose trying to get to me, but I leave and try to find the door, I find Changbin grinding with a girl and getting in my way, Felix sees me and stops me "what happened where are you going?" he tells me with a concerned face "nothing I just need some air" I said trying to pass me but he stopped me again. "ok you can come to me and tell me if anything happens" he smiles to me reassuringly. I swear he is too nice to be with these shitholes.

As I get out of the place I call my sister but I don't get enough signal as I walk further away from the house, I kick a rock out of frustration and try to call my sister again but nothing, I hate my fucking life, as I'm walking downhill to get to the city and call cab I feel chill as is very cold outside and I didn't bring warm clothes. 

I fucking hate that he lied to me, he said he was going to stay all night with me but no, he went with another chick to flirt or make out!, but why am I even bothered considering that I know his reputation from people who told me all around school? 

I seriously need help and stop reading those fake ass books that only get me to illusion myself to think he was being nice to me for a reason... or two... but that's not the case, I need to learn that what goes through my mind is not real, only the books can have that delusion written all over it.

I also feel scared as that weird man touched me like that, it was so inappropriate and I feel disgusting because of it, doesn't he know what respect is? I feel so uncomfortable for letting myself go into an ambiance that I know is not my safe zone, I feel guilty as I felt someone touch my body that way even if I didn't want to, While in my thoughts my tears escape my eyes as I'm sobbing, how stupid am I? 

I huff as the night gets colder and scarier as there is no source of light in this street, it gets creepier and alone but see a car turn and start following me behind, but the blinding lights of it don't let me see who it is, so I start walking faster, the creeps running through my spine and the hairs of my skin rise against my leather jacket. but the car reaches my steps and stands next to me as I see it roll down the window 

"Why did you go?" oh... it's Christopher  

"Nothing I'm fine, you can go back if you want" I do not look at him as I know my eyes must be red from crying and continue walking.

"no I promised you I would be with you" he continued the car at my pace

"well I didn't see anything of that happening" I walked faster as I didn't want to see him but his car followed next to me "I'm sorry okay?" he stopped the car and got out of it and ran to me 

He grabs my shoulders as he stands right in front of me "Let's just get inside the car and talk about it yeah?" he tries to persuade me to get in the car, and I do.

"why'd you leave" he says as I try to put my seatbelt on 

"well I didn't see you so I thought you left" I lie

"but you saw in the kitchen tho," he says the truth like an idiot 

"yeah but I saw you were busy so I thought you wouldn't spend time with me at the party," I said looking down feeling like a child who is about to get scolded 

"no love I promised you I would be there and yes I apologized because I left and talked to someone else, but my intention never was to leave you alone," he says looking at me but my head held low "But you did" I mumbled, he sighed "I'm sorry ok?" he expresses himself by putting his hand on my thigh and then on his chest "I promise to never do that again, that was very low of me" I looked at him while he looked at me, fucking butterflies why now, I feel the heat hit my ears and cheeks, I need to get a hold of myself

"but even when you saw you should've talked to me," he said starting the car once dating and driving, "yeah but either way I was uncomfortable," I said as I checked if my makeup was ruined on the car's mirror.

"why love did someone do something to you?" he said caringly

"Yeah, a guy... you know" I stopped as I felt my eyes get watery "he touched me inappropriately"

"He touched you" he exclaimed as he was surprised by my answer

"Yeah I was very scared," I said cleaning my tears   

"Did you do something about it? you should have called me or one of the guys" he raises his voice in anger 

"I'm sorry" I apologize and he changes his mood

"I'm not mad at you love, I'm mad at that bastard, he can't be treating ladies like you like that," he said looking at the road a bit mad "And don't cry ok? You're at least safe, you with me now" he smiles and caresses my shoulder, fucking butterflies again, am I that touched deprived or is he just too touchy to have talked a week ago?

"how about  if we go do something you like?" he says and I nod 

"what do you like to do at night" his sweet and caring smile looks at me as I look out the window of shyness

"I like to walk at night and eat some ice cream, I like quiet places" I express my liking to him as he pays attention to me 

"ok so let us go to the park and eat some ice cream," he says enthusiastically 

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

Hi my lovelies

Here is the 4th chapter sorry for being late I promise to post another one soon!

taglist: @stayceebs97 @foivestarrsketchez @salfetkablog

the tag list is open lovelies so plz comment if you want to be added

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Today's Bean story

Pre-tax:

So, the princess knows when her walkies are. In the mornings on work days, the moment I say "have a good one" to everyone on my regular 10 AM meeting, she stares at me hard. Because that's not a daily meeting, and we usually go out right at 10. But she also knows when I'm in a meeting and will wait until I swap glasses (computer vs. other) to jump up and give me THE LOOK.

In the afternoons, her walkies can vary depending on when Dad gets home, as Sean takes the afternoon walk. But he is home more often before 4 PM than after, so sometime around 2:30 (the earliest he ever takes her out), she will start to stare at the front door, then look at me like, "Where is Papa? (pronounced Pa-Pa for full drama)".

On the weekends, Sean tends to take both walkies because I take care of all morning walks 5 days a week and even take the afternoon walk on the days when he's clearly had a shit day or is going to have an extra-long day. The man works outside in all sorts of weather. I can take the occasional walk in the searing heat and freezing cold to improve his day.

On the weekends, Bean will start trying to get a walk at 2:15. Like, almost on the dot. 2:15 on a Saturday or Sunday, Bean starts signaling it is walkies time. Unluckily for her, we want to spoil her rotten but aren't completely spineless. So, we tell her no and refuse to take her out before 3.

This usually leads to her climbing into her couch bed (to distinguish from her other beds) and give the huge sigh of "life is so hard".

Today, she started the usual "Hey, bitches, walkies" shit at 2:15, and we ignored her.

She then went into the kitchen area, which doesn't tell us anything, and then she came back out with a small paper bag in her mouth. The night before, this paper bag had held food. She laid it down on the floor, then stared at us.

"No, ma'am," we said, our way to tell her that wasn't for her.

And then she completely ignored it and basically pouted until she got taken out.

Usually, when she pulls a piece of trash out of somewhere (a rare thing anyway), we jump up to take it away from her. But this time we said no, and she immediately ignored it, so we didn't hop up right away.

But I am pretty sure she was hoping that by pulling a piece of trash out that we'd jump up, and well, if we were up, we should just go for walkies, yes?????

The thing is, she didn't get that bag because she got in the trashcan. It's literally three feet from me. I think this small bag with a grease stain fell behind the can. We put her empty treat bags behind the can so she can find them and tear them open to get the crumbs because she's not a trash dog. When she tried to expand her privileges to the open air wastebasket I throw yarn bits but sometimes wrappers into, I stopped throwing the wrappers into it. And she knew when she was going for the stuff in the open air can that she wasn't supposed to that.

But, again, she knows if she shows us something she's not supposed to have, we will stand up and walk over and remove it. But Sean was mid-level on a game, and I am still dealing with hip pain, and then she simply walked away when we said no, so we didn't get up. She did what we wanted and didn't try to go for the bag again.

It's so fucking funny. She knows what gets us moving, but she's also so good and sweet that we tell her no, and she doesn't want to go for it again. Her intelligence is tempered by her determination to be the best dog.

I love her so much.

[goldentoshi]

ten

“your ex is gonna get beat the fuck up.” i said as i spoke with the guys in the discord server.

“i’m sorry about her. she’s insane.” he sighed.

“nah that bitch is crazy.” sanzu chuckled, getting ready for the race. we were all playing gta rp.

“listen, i get she’s a lunitic , but can we refrain from calling women out their names?” kakucho said. always such a gentlemen. if i wasn’t in this contract with rindou, i might’ve perused him.

“such a gentleman.” i smiled at him before getting my vehicle from the auto shop in our game. “i’m not stressing on her. she’s with someone who has a history of cheating and has watched every male figure in his life do the same. she’s with the guy i created cause the original one that i had would have her sliding down the wall and eating glass.”

"eating glass is insane, not even gonna cap." mikey said, speaking for the first time since we started our lobby. "i wonder if that's how all my hoes feel."

"probably. i mean that one girl slept outside our front door so she could see you." ran laughed. his brother wrapped his arms around my body as he watched.

"and to be honest, damon can go to hell too because you're weird even getting with her in the first place." sanzu added.

"thank you! like, you're that desperate but you're constantly trying to contact me and that weird post on twitter." i scoffed. "i literally can't stand him."

"you know rin would beat his ass if needed. don't trip."

"i almost did." rindou said, finally paying attention to the conversation. "he's so fucking bitter it's sick."

"eh, that's what happens when you fuck someone who didn't deserve it over and now you're facing the consequences." sanzu said, before blowing up a random gas station.

my phone buzzed, signaling i had a call coming through. i handed rindou my headset and remote while i took care of the call. "hello?"

"y/n. it's me, damon." the caller said. he sounded as though he had been crying.

"look, stop calling me-" i started saying before he cut me off.

"keleah is dying." he cut me off. i went silent. "she's asking for you, and i know we're not on good terms but that's my sister and-"

"text me the hospital. i'm on the way." i said, grabbing my bag, keys and hoodie. i hung up as i grabbed them and walked to rindou's room. "hey i got to go."

"okay, you good?" he asked, reading my facial expression.

"yeah, someone i know is in the hospital. she's dying and she's asking for me. i'll call you later." i said and ran out the door before he could say anything else.

꧁꧂

serendipity : a very good coincidence, often leading to something really awesome

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