#she even tried to pull an ‘i don’t have pronouns’

[dadfag]

dawg ok so im at work yesterday (my dinky lil grocery store job) and i wear my pronouns on a secondary name tag and mention to my assistant manager that everyone should have pronoun name tags to normalize it and she said smth along the lines of "well u choose to be singled out like that, i go by the pronouns i was born with" and i was like damn girl do u think people choose to be gay too like wtf

like dawg bffr rn anyways im gonna go to my coworkers who also hate her and ask them to wear pronoun tags

[dumblilb]

I Could Be Enough

Pitfighter!Vi x Fem!Reader

(Synopsis: They weren’t super close as children, but running around in the same crowd kept them in the know of each other. But years later she might be all Vi’s got left.)

(Warnings: drunk!vi, alcohol, mentions of physical violence ‘ not towards reader’, it’s mostly fluff, a little bit of angst, no mentions of physical attributes, just she/her pronouns, not proof read)

(Requested: yes)

(Wc: 1,5k)

* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚☆ 。

You don’t even know how it got to this point. Sitting at the booth in a gross, sticky, and dark club, watching over a girl you didn’t think you would ever see again. And maybe you were right. Cause she’s not the same girl you remember running around the streets of the under city as a child. The one who always had a bright look in her eyes as she tried so hard to live up to her father’s name, and keep her siblings safe.

But one thing was the same behind those, now dark and sad, slate grey eyes. She was a fighter. In the most literal sense. She couldn’t keep her fist off a jaw if she tried. Night after night she would cover her distinct tattoos and red hair with dark paint. Disguising herself from the public who claimed her strength as a prize. Or maybe even hiding from herself. She wasn’t to sure anymore.

But as the nights carried on the paint got messier and the drinks were getting stronger. And it was hard to watch. But here you were. Watching. So hard you thought your eyes might bleed from all the strobing lights and smoke filling the air. Any other night you might have gone to bed. Ignored the aching feeling you had, and left her to party the rest of the night away. But you couldn’t. Because there she was also watching you. As she sloppily got up with a bottle in her hand and started to walk towards the exit, the urge to follow consumed you. Because you knew she wanted you too. She was practically begging. And so you did. Meeting her by the stairs leading to her small apartment.

“Thank god you came, I thought I was gonna have to drink all alone tonight.” She slurred and you sighed resting your hip against the wall, propping yourself up.

“What would you do without me.” You smiled at her. Trying not to be angry with how fucked up she sounds. Slyly taking the bottle from her and helping her steady by the waist you walk her home.

“You know you’re so pretty when you’re mad at me.” She sighs as you push her door open. You just roll your eyes. She’s been doing this for months. Ever since her first pit match. You were hired as a sort of nurse for the ring. Patching up the people who were getting their shit rocked, and the people doing the punching. Making sure they were healed enough for their next match. And the second you saw her step in that ring you knew it was her. Sure she looked a little different. But her deep upper cut. You could never forget that.

So you causally brought up growing up in the lanes while bandaging her fists that day. How you were pretty shy but always friendly with a boy named Ekko. And he had introduced you to his friends a few times. You could tell she remembered you. But she didn’t say anything. Which was okay. You could tell she didn’t really want to be known at that point. But as time went on she spent more time talking to you after matches. Sitting at the bar just trying to figure out how life got both of you here.

But she also found alcohol along the way. And that concerned you. She would always assure you she was fine. And you chose to believe her. Even though it sometimes seemed she would look right through you. Like she wished something else was there.

But even before the alcohol, the casual flirting was always there. Comments about how attractive you looked and how nice you were to her compared to the other fighters. Claiming you made her feel ‘so special’ and not just because it was coming from a beautiful girl like you.

So as you sit her down on her small bed and pull out some supplies to remove her makeup you can’t help but shake your head at her.

“Your dumb fake flirting isn’t going to get you out of this one vi. You’re a mess.” You sigh pushing her hair back with one hand, removing her makeup with the other.

“It’s not fake and you know it.” She rolls her eyes. “I want you. Please.” She says griping the hand with the cloth in it. Rubbing her thumb across your knuckles softly. The difference between her ruff scared hands and yours now glaringly apparent.

“You’re drunk and exhausted, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bit of a concussion after today’s match. I haven’t seen you get hit that hard in a while.” You say ignoring her advances. As you’ve done before.

“I’m fine. You know I’m fine.” She reassures you. But the wavering of her eyes says otherwise.

“I know you think you’re fine-“ you remove your hand from hers and finish wiping her face. “But I see you, Vi. And this isn’t fine.” You say pointing from the bottle resting on her little table to her bruised fists.

She groans tossing her head back. And you gear up ready for a fight about how you don’t know what you’re talking about. But she rubs her eyes a little, her breath slowly becoming unsteady.

“You’re right I’m sorry.” She breathes out looking at you. The small bit of light roaming the room makes the wateriness of her eyes sparkle. “God I’m so tired and I don’t know what to do.” She cries.

You don’t even know how to respond. She’s never really cried in front of you before. She’s always been so tuff. But as she sits before you, even her toned and muscular body couldn’t make her look strong.

“I’m so lonely. All I have at this point is you. And you don’t even want me.” She continues and your face softens. Kneeling down in front of her you softly stroke her hair, pulling her in for a hug. She cautiously wraps her arms around you. Like just her touch might scare you away.

“You have me. You do. I think you have for a while now. I just didn’t think you were serious.” You reassure her. Her head nuzzles into the crook of your neck, and you can hear her breathing steady slightly.

“I’m always serious about you.” She says softly, it being a bit muffled by her position. She pulls away from the hug, resting her forehead to yours. “Can you stay please. I don’t want to be alone.” She asks quietly. Her warm breath hitting your lips.

“I’ll stay.” You grin and she moves to get up and grab a blanket. You help get her ready to lay down, removing her thick boots and setting aside the dirty cloth.

She props the blanket in your lap and she lays down. At first you just smile at how dainty she looks compared to how you usually see her. But her strong arm pulling you down next to her snaps you out of it pretty quickly.

Pulling the blanket over you both, you run your fingers through her hair. Analyzing her face one feature at a time. Her eyes seem a little more blue in this lighting. And you can finally see the small freckles adorning her skin.

“Are you trying to seduce me.” She asks with a soft laugh. “Cause it’s working.”

“Don’t get any funny ideas. That’s not happening. At least not tonight.” You say and you could have sworn her cheeks got a little pink.

“Well then you’ve got to stop staring at me like that… At least not tonight.” She jokes rolling over. Making you smile.

With her back to you, you place an arm around her waist holding her firm. You could feel her body stiffen and you try to remove your arm but she stops you. “No wait. This is good.” She whispers. “This is good.” And she holds your arm tight to her. Rubbing circles across it with her fingers. Her whole body relaxes against yours and you smile against her neck.

“You know I’m not that same girl anymore.” She sighs a little out of no where. But you get it, she’s trying to give you an out. A chance to run. You hum in response. “I’m different I think. I’m not as strong as I used to be.” She continues and you know she’s not talking about muscle, or brawn. She used to be a leader. Someone people looked up to. And now… most people didn’t even know her real name.

“That might be true. But that’s okay.” You say pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck. “You’ve been through a lot. I think you’re holding on to a girl who didn’t know what life was yet. And you’re grown up. It’s normal to not be the same. Or feel the same.” You continue and she turns to face you. Caressing your cheek softly.

“I think maybe I can be okay. With you.” She muses. Placing a light kiss to your lips. Making you smile.

“Good cause I’m not going anywhere.”

You don’t know if tomorrow she would go back to drinking. Or if she would get her ass kicked in the pit. But tonight she was safe. And she was with you. And as she fell asleep to your heart beating against her, you couldn’t help but hope it could stay this way. Cause for you. This was enough.

[strawhbrrries]

Love and Lust

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary:

warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, oral (m receiving), creampie??, female pronouns, whiny mike, whiny reader, switch!mike??, teasing, overstim, hair pulling, nipple pinching, not proofread, porn with no plot

word count: 1.3k words

author’s note: this isn't as needy n whiny as I originally hoped so I hope you guys can forgive me!!! please send requests for what you'd like to see next! very dedicated to @mfdxz because queen has been WAITING for this one

“Please.” He whined in your ear, licking and sucking at any of the skin on your neck that he could reach. “I need you, now.”

“I’m trying, I can’t get your stupid belt unbuckled.” You whined back, sitting up from your position on top of him to try and see the belt buckle better.

“Baby, I am going to cum in my pants if you don’t hurry up.” He relaxed his head against the pillows that lined the headboard, chest rising rapidly as he tried to regulate his breathing. 

On normal days when Abby was home you tried to avoid doing anything sexual, but the second Mike had gotten home the atmosphere shifted. He came up behind you in the kitchen, pressing your ass against the hard-on raging in his jeans, trying to slide his hand under the waistband of your sweats. His fingers made it as far as touching your clit before Abby stumbled in asking for more dinner, a small groan only loud enough for the two of you came out.

The clink of the buckle hitting the floor dissipated any frustration you had, your fingers immediately unzipped his jeans and threw them off somewhere on the floor. Today was one of the few days he’d chosen to go commando, both of you were now appreciating this.

You went back to straddling his waist, grinding down against his cock, your wetness causing your underwear to conform to your folds as you slid his cock between them. His breath hitched at the feeling, he turned his head to the side in an attempt to cover his mouth. 

“Fuck, baby..” Mike groaned, thrusting his hips upwards in an attempt to create more friction.

“Feel good, Mikey?” You teased, moving down his body to sit in between his legs.

“Baby..” Is all he could muster in response, anything else was lost the second you put the tip of his cock in your mouth.

The feeling of him in your mouth, hard and leaking from the need to fuck you, caused a moan to vibrate around him. He tried to close his legs at the feeling, you hadn’t even done anything and yet it was all too much already. Your hands pushed them back open, taking his cock as far as it could go, your nose was pressing against his pubic bone. You hollowed your cheeks as you pulled off of him, using your tongue to swirl around it as you went.

You climbed back up his body, straddling his waist yet again, and placing your lips against his. The kiss was needy and messy, strings of saliva connecting your chins together. His fingers found your hair, entangling themselves at the base and pulling your head back. He needed you, and he was tired of letting you have that control.

“I said, I needed you, now.” He grunted, nipping at your exposed collarbone.

Mike lifted your shirt and threw it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor, latching onto one of your nipples and rolling the other in between his fingers. You threw your head back at the sensation, trying to hold yourself up against him in an attempt to keep control. Any ounce of control that you had left disappeared when your hair was yanked backwards, causing a loud whimper to leave your mouth and Mike to slap a hand over it. 

The sound of Abby shuffling around in her room stopped the two of you in your tracks, the soft padding of her footsteps passed by the bedroom door. You exchanged a look, it was past her bedtime, and he was off to go check on her. Nights when Abby left her room after her initial bedtime meant she’d be more likely to leave more times throughout the night, sometimes she just wasn’t tired and sometimes she just couldn’t sleep, it’s how she worked.

You heard the two of them exchanging muffled words quickly followed by their footsteps back into her room. To save time, in the chance Abby did leave her room again, you threw your underwear into the pile on the floor.

“She needed water.” He mumbled, closing the door and locking it behind him, throwing off the sweats he’d put on in a hurry. 

The bed dipped as he climbed up you, kissing his way up your body. His fingers slid between your folds, collecting your wetness and bringing the fingers to your mouth. He tapped your lips, an indicator that he wanted you to open your mouth, and slid his fingers in when you opened them.

“How do you taste, sweet girl? Let me taste.” Mike removed his fingers from your mouth and leaned closer to kiss you, swirling his tongue around yours. “Fuuuck.”

Two fingers swirled at your entrance, pushing in slightly as his other hand covered your mouth just in case. He curled his fingers, brushing against the soft, spongy spot inside of you. Your body jerked against him, whining against his hand. 

“Shhh, I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He whispered in your ear, a low groan following behind it as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock.

The stretch was wonderful, stinging slightly at the lack of prep but an oh so delicious sting. A small whine escaped his throat, hips stuttering slightly at the feeling of your warm cunt stretching around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying to keep himself quiet and to stop himself from cumming so soon. There was just something about having to be quiet and the dire need to fuck you into the mattress was sending him into a spiral, his eyes were just as glazed over as yours were.

His hips thrusted in and out, fingers fumbling around your chest as he searched for your nipples. You brought your hands to your mouth, despite most of your moans and whines getting caught in your throat every time his hips pushed back in, the chance of being caught bringing an overwhelming sense of excitement.

“Baby, fuuck…baby.” Mike moaned, splaying one hand on your stomach and bringing the other to his mouth. 

He was holding on by a thread, orgasm threatening to spill all over your insides with every thrust, he’d been waiting for this all day and now that it was finally here he couldn’t even hold on. 

“I need to cum..” He whined, leaning over so your knees were against your chest and his mouth was by your ear.

“Inside..” You managed to choke out, keeping one hand on your mouth and digging the other into the skin of his bicep, small moon shaped indents appearing.

After you finished your one word sentence he painted your insides with a low groan, sweaty forehead laying itself in the crook of your neck as he continued to thrust in and out. The over-stimulation was too much but he was determined to get you off, he slithered a hand between your bodies. He drew figure eights over your clit as he continued his thrusting, sucking and licking at the skin of your neck.

“Mikey…Mikey..” Your words were breathy and almost inaudible, all you could think, hear, smell, taste was just Mike.

He was overwhelming your senses in the best way and all you wanted was to live in this blissful state forever, full of him. One more thrust had your mind reeling, body shaking, sharp white pleasure searing through your veins as your orgasm ripped through you. He slapped another hand over your mouth, continuing his thrusts to help work you through your orgasm.

“Mike? What are you doing to her?” Abby asked innocently, standing at the open door that didn’t latch when he thought he locked it.

[d1xonss]

Hi there! I was wondering if i could get some straight Daryl Dixon smut where fem!reader is asking him to choke her for the first time? If not it’s totally okay! love your writing! <3

Something New

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 2

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+)

✧ Word Count : 1.6k

AN ~ Oooh I don’t think I’ve ever done any kind of smut like this before, but I’m happy to try! And let’s preface this first before anything else; no I don’t think Daryl would realistically feel comfortable choking someone. He strikes me as the type of man that doesn’t want to harm you in any way during something so intimate, even if you asked for it. However, I think early seasons Daryl would definitely be a little rougher during sex which is why I planned for the season 2 era. But the moral of the story is this is just for fun, and I tried to keep it as accurate as possible.

Hope you enjoy! xoxox

It had been a rough couple of days. Between getting stranded on the highway, losing Sophia, and Carl getting shot, it was safe to say that the group had seen better days. The recent events had taken a toll on all of you, the stress beginning to build up to the point of no return. And it was no surprise to you seeing Daryl was the one who was taking it the hardest. 

He was constantly tense and rigid, a permanent scowl on his face while nothing seemed to be going the way it was supposed to. Though luckily for him, you knew just the way to relieve some of that…tension.

Your gasps and moans could be heard by no one near as Daryl had taken it upon himself to move your shared tent far away from the others to get some distance. At first you were weary of the idea, but now you thought it just might’ve been the best one he’s ever had. Considering the filthy sounds he was pulling from you, it would be mortifying to face the others the following morning.

The small tent was pitch black, the only thing you were able to see were the soft outlines of the different shapes around you, along with feeling Daryl’s hot pants on the back of your neck as he continuously pounded into you. The sound of your wetness with every thrust filled the small space, almost suffocating as the sleeping bag beneath you was providing little to no comfort from the harsh ground beneath you. But with your legs tangled together and the feel of his dick hitting your hilt over and over again, the feel of tiny rocks below was far from your mind.

“Oh, fuck.” you whimpered, desperately grabbing and gripping at his arms that were wrapped around you as his pace was rough and determined. Your pussy was throbbing, the feel of his hips slapping against your ass was growing more urgent as you felt your wetness begin to run down your leg.

He grunted from behind you, feeling your walls clench around him, “That’s right, fuckin take it.” he growled into your ear, the next thing you felt were his teeth teasingly biting the shell.

You threw your head back in ecstasy, your toes curling all while trying to patch his pace with your own movements. But let’s face it, you were growing tired. And he had more stamina than the two of you combined. He could’ve kept this up all night if he wanted to just to torture you a bit more than he already was, having slowed down multiple times right when he felt you were about to come.

His large, rough hands then moved from your hips up to your breasts, giving them a generous squeeze before teasing your nipples just enough to get you to squirm even more. Gently pinching and pulling them to hear more of those delicious sounds. You cried out almost in agony with how much he was teasing you, the feeling both pleasurable and miserable. But Daryl couldn’t lie, he loved it. Hearing you like this, so aching and hungry for him drove him absolutely crazy.

Your bodies were sheen in a thin layer of sweat, the desire and lust growing even thicker with every plunge of his hips or bites at your skin. You wanted to feel him everywhere. Which is why your hand impulsively reached for his, tugging it toward your throat in a sex drunk kind of state. Though Daryl however quickly snapped out of it when his mind processed your actions, his movements stopping completely which only caused you to whine a bit in protest as you thought he only did it to tease you again. But what you couldn’t see was his expression was quite serious. Never in a million years had he even considered what you had silently asked him to do.

“What the hell are ya doin?” he asked, his tone rough with desire yet still somehow soft when it came to speaking to you.

His words brought you out of your daze, your eyes widening a little at what you had unconsciously done in a fit of impatience and longing. You had never outright admitted that you had a kind of kink, a fantasy perhaps of him wrapping his strong hands around your throat. But now that your secret was basically exposed, you felt extremely embarrassed, silently thankful that the tent was dark enough to where you couldn’t see his face. Although you could sense the tension resurfacing, the tension you so desperately tried to take away from him, was suddenly back within an instant.

“Sorry…” you huffed quietly as you tried to catch your breath, “Heat of the moment.”

Daryl was silent for what seemed like ages, leaving you thinking you had ruined the entire moment as you didn’t have a clue at what was going on in his head. But surprisingly enough, it wasn't what you had anticipated.

The idea of choking, spanking, or any kind of harmful thing really had never before crossed his mind despite how rough he could be at times. He never wished to intentionally hurt you, especially after the trust you had built up over the weeks of knowing one another. You were important to him, even though he had never been brave enough to admit that out loud, you were still quite literally the only person that mattered to him now. But seeing as clearly you weren’t opposed to the idea of exploring something new, he figured...maybe he could get behind it. 

His face leaned down toward your ear again from behind, “You tell me if it’s too much…ya hear me?” he said almost sternly to show you how serious he was about this.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, opening your mouth to question him, but you didn’t get the chance before his hand came up to gently squeeze at your neck. Your eyes widened, a surprised whimper escaping your lungs while his hips slowly began to buck up into you again, picking up right where he had left off.

The tightness he held around your throat immediately sent you back to that blissful haze, feeling your limbs begin to tingle as he continued to send shockwaves of pleasure up your spine. You moaned loudly when he squeezed a bit tighter, testing the waters with how much you could take. But it didn’t hurt at all surprisingly, like he somehow knew exactly what he was doing though he had never tried this before in his life. It was almost concerningly perfect, and you were in heaven.

“God, you sound so pretty.” he breathed, his pace increasing as he began to manhandle you, “You really like this, don’t you?” he asked almost teasingly.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to hear the tone of his voice, only managing to focus on how good it felt as you nodded your head frantically. Silently begging him to let you finish this time.

He choked you a bit harder when you didn’t respond, “Come on girl…tell me how good it feels.” he groaned.

You panted heavily while simultaneously swallowing to try and lubricate your dry throat, “Feels good- feels so good.” you stuttered pathetically.

Daryl hummed in approval as he heard your response, leaning his head down to kiss and lick at the skin of your shoulder while his free hand moved down to rub circles on your clit. A sharp gasp was pulled from you as you arched your back into him, your vision growing almost spotty at the amount of sensations he was giving you. Your legs began to twitch and he could feel your walls clenching around him even more intensely as you neared your orgasm again. But instead of slowing down, he finally continued to draw it out.

Your moans and whines grew louder and louder as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, his hand over your throat only making your brain feel more fuzzy. You almost couldn’t control the sounds you were making anymore as you finally came, crying out his name in the state of bliss you had craved so much. It was like for a moment you saw stars, feeling as if your soul left your body for a moment as his fingers continued to work on your sensitive clit. The feeling of your tight walls consuming him left him not far behind as he quickly managed to pull out of you, before spilling himself onto your back with a low groan of pleasure.

It took minutes for the two of you to finally come down from your high, catching your ragged breaths while your bodies felt almost too limp to even attempt to move. But eventually, his hand retracted back from your neck as he slowly sat up a bit, leaving a tender kiss on the back of your head to express what he couldn’t with words.

“We…we need to do that again.” you breathed quietly, slumping onto your back from exhaustion.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your silent request, shaking his head though you couldn’t see, “Let’s wait a few hours at least…don’t wanna kill ya.” he said lightheartedly.

You huffed softly, “I think you already did. I feel like I can’t move my legs.”

His eyes glanced down, his hand coming up to run along your hip before traveling down your thigh, “How bout a massage then, hm?”

It’s funny, you thought. One minute he was saying the dirtiest things, fucking you until you forgot your own name. And then the next, he was sweetly suggesting a massage after his own doings. But then again, you would never complain. Perhaps after this, he would be more keen to trying new things…

~ Thanks for reading!

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part four)

series masterlist & main masterlist

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes, fighting (verbal).

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: I don’t have much to say other than enjoy! Please leave your thoughts and opinions in the comments or message me! I’d love to hear what you have to say <3

part four: friends for now?

Hugh let you drag him through the club by your intertwined hands. The crowd seemed to be never ending as you walked through, trying to make it to the bar. A few people stopped you along the way to congratulate you and give their praises, but the night no longer felt special. It didn’t even feel like these people were here for you. They were just strangers attending a random party. Most of them already way past tipsy and probably wouldn’t remember anything in the morning. When the bar was in sight, you did a quick scan of the area. In the right corner, you saw a small, tall table that had two tall stools, perfect. 

“Heyyy y/n! I’ve been looking for you!” Ashley yells over the music with a big smile on her face. You don’t miss the way she glances back at Hugh. “Where have you been?” She asks and you can hear the accusation that’s hidden behind her words. Hugh squeezes your hand and it makes you realize just how close he is to you, the front of his body a whisper away from touching the back of yours. “I’ve been making the rounds. I was looking for you but kept getting stopped along the way.” You’re yelling back at her, trying to sound alive and bubbly by letting a laugh out at the end. You weren’t sure if she bought it. Ashley gives you a look that tells you she doesn’t. “We were gonna grab a drink, you wanna come?” You offer her but she shakes her head. “No, I have one over there.” She points to a group of girls sitting at a larger table that sits on the left side of the bar. “I’ll see you later okay?” She leans to give you a quick hug and she notices the point of contact between Hugh and yourself. “Don’t be stupid y/n.” She whispers in your ear and leans back from the hug with a smile. “Love you!” She’s yelling this time as she walks away. Her comment made your chest burn. You could tell that she thought something more was happening between Hugh and yourself but he saved you. He helped you get away from Pedro and she had no right to be accusatory. 

This night kept getting worse, the only thing keeping you from going home and leaving your own party was the warmth of Hugh’s hand. The warmth suddenly vanished, Hugh letting go of your hand for the first time since he helped you off of the couch in the backroom. He pulled back one of the stools for you and offered his arm to hold as you climbed up to sit. Your foot faltered slightly, causing your leg to buckle, but Hugh was quick to grab your waist to stabilize you. “Thank you.” You say again. 

“Do you want a drink?” He asks julting his thumb towards the bar behind him. 

“Oh! I'll take a pop my cherry margarita please.” You smile, voice full of excitement. Hugh lets out that rich man laugh that you haven't heard since the day you met him. 

“A WHAT?” He’s still laughing, it’s so contagious that your own laughter slips past your lips unexpectedly. 

“Pop my cherry margarita. It’s a real thing!” You explained to him that you wanted to create a drink menu that matched the album song titles. It was the one detail you really had a say in. “I thought they were handing out pamphlets at the door that explained that. Did you not get one?” Hugh’s eyebrows furrowed but they relax just as fast as he pulled a folded up pamphlet from his back pocket. You gasp dramatically. 

“You didn’t read it?” Your voice held a joking tone but you couldn’t help but feel a ping of hurt within your chest at the thought of him not taking the time to at least skim over the silly little paper. 

“I was looking for you when I first got here.” He admits shyly, an emotion you didn’t know Hugh was capable of having. He was always so confident and loud, never shy. It was cute. 

“Well in that case, you are forgiven.” His words made your heart swell. 

“I’ll be right back.” He gives your shoulder a light squeeze and walks over to the bar. 

Taking a look around the room, you’re glad that people are enjoying themselves. Your album only has three more songs to play before you’d have to go back on stage to give your thanks again. The club was booked all night, meaning that everyone was welcome to stay until it closes at two am. You didn’t plan to stay that late and after the events of the night, you weren’t sure if you’d stay any longer than your second ‘speech’. You glance back over to Hugh. He’s leaning on the counter, making conversation with the bartender. He was so charismatic, easily falling into conversation with anyone he met. You were certain that there wasn’t a person in the world that disliked him, he was the definition of likable. The reality of the situation was starting to settle more clearly now that your mind wasn’t clouded by the brief altercation with Pedro. Hugh hadn’t left your side since the moment he found you, he helped you collect yourself, and now he was ordering you a drink. You weren’t sure what this meant for him- you knew exactly what it meant for you. All of his acts of kindness were starting to overfill the file in your head labeled ‘big fat crush on Hugh Jackman’. 

“Here you are, one pop my cherry margarita.” He slides the glass in front of you and sits in the stool across from you. The drink is a bright red with a silver shimmer throughout. Two cherries sat on the top of the ice with a lime hugging the sugar lined rim. You took a sip, the tequila a little too strong for your liking, but the sweetness of the cherry and the slight hint of lime was refreshing.  “Mhmm that’s good. What'd you get?” You ask while squinting at his drink. “Slut me out martini?” He says unsure. You laugh. “Hm. Slut me out is probably my favorite song off the album, a good ‘ol dirty martini fits the vibe of the song.” He takes a sip and nods. “Hey.” You say to catch his attention again. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to actually listen to the album. You’re probably disappointed, given you’re such a big fan and all.” You’re mostly joking, the only sincerity being behind the fact he didn’t get to do what he came here to do. What you invited him here for. “Stop apologizing sweetheart.” He grunts out giving you a pointed look. 

“I did hear the first few songs, they were really good.” He says, taking a sip of his martini. 

“Just good?” You question. It looks like he thinks for a moment before speaking. 

“They’re surprising.” He says slowly. “How so?” You’re quick to respond. 

“Just… didn’t expect it. It’s different from your other stuff, it’s seductive.” 

“Hm..are you seduced?” His eyes lock onto yours. Your tongue darts out to pull the straw that sits in your glass to your lips. You can see his eyes move down towards your lips as you suck on the straw. When his eyes match yours again, he’s repositioning himself on the stool and lets out a low chuckle. “You’re something else y/n.” He shakes his head and you hum in satisfaction. 

You glance over to the dancing crowd, eyes moving over the groups of people. You meet Stacy’s eyes and you can hear the buzz of the last song fill your ears. She started making her way towards you, disappearing every few seconds as she weaved through people. “Shit.” You mumble as you try to think of ways to get out of getting on stage and thanking everyone again. “What’s wrong?” Hugh’s voice was filled with concern, the same tone he had used earlier in the night. “Stacy..my uh.. my assistant, I guess, is making her way over here right now and I like really, really don’t wanna go up on that stage again.” You frown. You were being stubborn, you knew that. The smart side of your brain tried to tell you that it wasn’t professional to just leave your own event. 

“C’mon.” Hugh is standing up quickly, offering his hand once again. “Huh?” You asked him, confusion written all over your face. “I’m getting you out of here. Let’s go.” You look around the room one last time. Stacy is about ten feet away, stress present on her face. “Okay.” You grab his hand and he helps you down, his other hand instinctively meeting your waist. “Y/n! I needed you on the stage like three minutes ago!” Stacy yells across the lowering distance. Hugh tugs your hand and you follow. You’re trying your best to keep up with his long legs as he walks swiftly through everyone. He pushes open the door and flashing lights blind the both of you. Covering your face, you tried to block the paparazzi’s cameras, completely trusting Hugh to guide you through this all. Once you reach the small parking lot that sits on the left side of the building, Hugh is opening the passenger door for you and helps you in. He hurries over to the drivers side and drives off as fast as he can, escaping the leeches that are trying to take as many pictures as possible. “Oh my god, you’re literally a life saver.” You say, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Pulling out your phone from the small purse that’s been draped on your shoulder most of the night, you sent a quick text to Stacy, responding to the endless texts and calls you’ve received from her in the past five minutes. 

You: I’m sorry Stacypoo. I’ll explain later. Love you <33

You knew work Stacy would be mad at you for some time but once you explained everything, friend Stacy would understand. “Do you want me to take you home?” Hugh asks. “Yes please. I’m pooped.” You huff out and he chuckles. You connect your phone to the car bluetooth and set your address on the GPS. The silence in the car calmed your body down at a rapid rate. Exhaustion took over your body and you could feel the ache in your feet from the heels. You were only at the party for an hour, yet it felt like you had been there all night. Looking at the time, the clock read 11:30pm. Hugh was quiet and you were afraid you might have caused too much trouble for him. That he wouldn’t want to be around you again after this. “Thank you Hugh. Really, you totally made this night so much better.” Your head is leaning against the headrest and you roll it slightly to look over at him. The faint light coming from the street lights shined on his face dimly. He was so handsome. You wanted to tell him. “You don’t have to thank me. I enjoy your company.” He glances in your direction with a smile. The silence fills the space again.

 “Did you purposely wear a gray shirt to match my outfit?” You asked curiously. You meant to ask earlier but it slipped your mind. “What?” He’s smiling. “You heard me. Did you?” Your tone was teasing. “Maybe.” 

“Yes or no Hugh Jackman.” His name rolled off your tongue in a joking matter. You could've sworn you could see a slight blush but it was too dark in the car to tell. “Is this it?” He asks, pointing to your house. “Yea that’s me.” 

He pulls into the driveway and puts the car in park, cutting the engine. Hugh opens his car door to get out. “Oh! You don’t have to get out, it’s okay.” He ignores you, walking over to your side of the car anyways, closing the door once you’re out. You awkwardly walk up to your front door and search your purse for your keys. When you find them, you turn around to face Hugh. “Thank you for driving me home Hugh.” “No problem sweetheart.” He smiles warmly and you take a moment to take it in. Your eyes rake across every wrinkle in his face, showing the life he’s lived. His smile lines set deep into his cheeks and you can’t help but think how perfectly they suit him. His facial hair was just past a stubble but not quite filled out into his full beard yet. “I should get inside, don’t wanna keep you out any later.” Your voice is soft and you want to invite him in but you couldn’t. “Okay darling.” 

This crush on Hugh was something that felt deeper after tonight. If anything were to happen with him, you wanted it to be right. No rushing. The feeling was mature. Hugh was someone you didn’t want to lose, no matter how he fit into your life. It was a little scary to think about- how much you wanted him in your life. 

“Goodnight Hugh.” 

“Goodnight y/n.” 

You turn to unlock your door and just as you're twisting the handle, Hugh wraps his large hand around your arm. He gives you a small tug, urging you to turn around. “Y/n…” He speaks softly. “Yes?” He doesn’t say anything. “Hugh, are you okay?” His hand releases your arm, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks. His hands are rough. You can feel a few calluses along his hand, undoubtedly from the gym.  He’s searching your eyes but you're unsure what he’s trying to find. “Can I kiss you?” 

Oh. 

“Yes.” It’s barely audible, the only confirmation that he had heard you came from his lips meeting yours. The kiss was slow, soft, like he was afraid to move too much. Hugh’s lips melted into yours perfectly, dancing together in a rhythm that felt natural. He was bent down slightly to match your height, your heels aiding him. He was the one to break the kiss, you weren’t sure if you would have ever stopped kissing him if he didn’t pull away. You wanted to ask him so many questions, get into his head. You always had this impeding urge to know everything but you wanted to live in the sweetness of the moment. Hugh’s hands dropped from your cheeks and a small smile rested on his face. “Goodnight gorgeous.” He kisses the top of your head for the second time that night. “Goodnight..” You walked inside, standing half way out of the door, waving at Hugh as he drove away. 

You: text me when you get home so I know you got home safe! p.s. ur a good kisser.  

Walking around your house, you slowly stripped from your outfit, gathering your things to start your nightly routine as you waited for Hugh’s text. You hopped into the shower and thought about the crazy events that had happened in just a few hours. The kiss was something you hadn’t expected and it was killing you to not know what it meant for your relationship with Hugh. When you were brushing your teeth, your phone lit up on the bathroom counter. 

Hugh <3: Just got home. You’re not half bad yourself lol. 

You: really though, did you try to match my outfit? 

Hugh <3: Goodnight y/n… 

You: fine. I’ll get the truth out of you one day!! 

You: goodnight hugh! <3 

When your head hits the pillow, all you can do is think about the feeling of Hugh’s lips on yours, his hands on your face. You fell asleep with a smile on your face. 

—

The constant buzzing of your phone woke you up. It’s been going off for close to an hour and you tried your best to ignore it but the vibration under your pillow was starting to give you a headache. You winced at the brightness of the screen as your eyes adjusted to the light that invaded your eyeballs too suddenly. Squinting at the name, you let out a sigh. “Oh fuck me..” 

“Hi Stacy…” You say it sweetly, hoping it would ease whatever was coming your way. “Y/n, I need you to explain why the fuck you decided to run away from me last night.” Her voice is eerily calm, you’d prefer if she was yelling at you. “Oh yea…” You clear your throat. “So you know how when we started to plan the event, Pedro and I were still very much together?” You ask and she gives a short ‘yes’. “Well, when we had the last meeting, I completely forgot about him being invited already and forgot to take him off the list.” “Y/n, can you get to the point please, the label is on my ass right now trying to clear things up.” “Sorry…he uh.. Pedro showed up last night and he was mean Stacy. He kept saying how he wanted me back and he kept trying to grab me.” Your voice falters slightly. You couldn’t understand how Pedro, who was once so sweet and loving, had turned so cruel. “I’m so sorry y/n… I didn’t know, nobody knew.” You can hear the sympathy in her voice. “It’s fine, it’s over. I tried to stay, but I really wanted to leave. I’m sorry Stacy.” “It’s fine.” She sighs.

 “Have you been on your socials yet?” 

“No…why?” 

“Look at what I sent you.” 

You put her on speaker and open the text thread between Stacy and yourself. There were at least a hundred texts from her between last night and this morning. You click on a link she had sent and when you opened it, there was a picture from last night of Hugh and yourself leaving the party hand in hand. There were articles upon articles questioning if Hugh was your ‘new older fix’. There were also pictures of Pedro leaving the party with rumors of you cheating. It was all one big mess, but every single article seemed to agree on one thing:

Y/n L/n was a slut who liked older men. 

They weren’t completely wrong, you loved being with an older man, but you weren’t a slut, or a cheater, or a gold digger, or any other names they had called you. The rumors and name calling never bothered you but it always had a negative effect on the men in your life, even if they never got the shit end of the stick. It was why Pedro broke up with you and why everyone before him never wanted to make anything official, or even be seen with you. You felt so stupid for not telling Hugh that you needed to go out the back way, that he shouldn’t be seen leaving with you. Your dating life brought nothing but a bad reputation and you didn't want Hugh’s name involved in it. You're thankful that this article was centered on dragging you down and not Hugh. 

“Shit..” You whisper. “How mad are they?” You ask, referring to your management team. 

“They’re pretty pissed off. They keep nagging about how they warned you with Pedro. They’re worried about your image.” 

“God, I wish they would get over that already. It’s literally not that big of a deal.” Your irritation grew. It had always been something you hated about the industry, that they cared so much about minor personal details. As long as you were making music, making fans happy, and making them money- why does it matter who you’re seen with. You hated how much everyone ‘cared’ about what you did. 

“I know y/n, it sucks. I’ll try to get them calmed down and prevent any unnecessary meetings. I want you to focus on whatever you need to. Don’t stress yourself out about this.” “Thank you Stacy. I really am sorry if I got you into trouble last night.” 

“It’s okay. I understand why you did it and I’m glad you did something for yourself for once.” 

The rest of the conversation is short and ends with Stacy complaining about Mark, the guy from the meeting, was blowing up her phone. 

You needed to talk to Hugh as soon as possible. There were so many things that needed to be discussed: the paparazzi pictures, the kiss, what we are, can he handle being your controversially old boyfriend- if that’s even what he wanted. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had already seen the headlines, if his team was just as mad as yours. 

You: hi hugh! could we meet up and talk sometime today? 

Hugh <3: Of course darling. Just tell me a time and place and I'll be there. 

You: 3pm at my house? 

Hugh <3: See you then. 😀

The emoji he attached made you laugh, Hugh texted like your parents and it should make you cringe but it does the exact opposite. You sent him your address, not expecting him to remember where you live, and started to prepare for his visit. You had a few hours before the agreed upon time, allowing you to clean up around your house and get presentable. Not wanting to go overboard, you decided on a pair of black flared leggings and a dark green crew neck that had ‘New York’ across the chest. You could feel your nerves working up as the time ticked away, each minute that went by increasing your heart rate. You were sitting on the couch, when there was a knock on your door. Taking a peek through the peephole, you could see Hugh standing there. You opened the door wide and gave him a tender smile. “Hi sweetheart.” He greets you with his own warm smile. “Hi Hugh. Come in.”  You open the door wider and he slips past you, waiting for you to close the door. “You can take your shoes off here if you want, but you don't have to.” He slides them off and you lead him into the living room. You take a seat on the couch, smacking the cushion next to you with your hand, urging him to take a seat as well- he does. You don’t speak right away, trying to find the right words to say, what to talk about first. “You okay y/n?” His expression is full of worry.

“Have you seen the pictures or anything about last night?” 

“No…?” You can tell he’s confused and you don’t say anything. Instead, you open your phone to the link Stacy sent and hand it to him. His eyes are moving back and forth slowly as he reads and scrolls through it. When he's done, he hands the phone back to you and sighs. “This is what you wanted to talk about?” He asks. “Yea…and other things.” 

He sighs. “Y/n, I already told you I don’t care what other people say. I don’t think what these people are saying about us should matter.” 

“I don’t want to drag you into this mess though, Hugh. It’s not fair to you, especially when everything they’re saying are lies.” 

“That’s just the way those people make a living. It won’t matter in a week, everyone will forget and move on, so don’t worry about me baby, worry about yourself. They said some nasty things in there, don’t let that get to your head kid?” His hand rests on your thigh and scrunch up your face at the nickname. 

“Hugh, for moral reasons, you can’t call me kid when you kissed me just last night. It's weird.” Your voice switching from the previous unsure and scared to serious. He lets out a laugh and a quick sorry. His hand still rests on your thigh and you reach out to place your hand on his, fingers slightly intertwining at the awkward angle. “Why did you kiss me last night?” Your doe like eyes look up at him. “I wanted to.” His answer is too brief for your liking and you can tell he’s teasing. “Why did you want to?” You ask further. “You looked really pretty in your sparkly little outfit last night sweetheart. You always look really pretty, truthfully. There’s just something about you that draws me to you.” He confesses. “Yea?”  “Yea…It’s a little scary if i’m being honest, how drawn to you I am.” “I’m scared too, Hugh.” You admit. “I’m terrified that whatever this is or whatever it leads to is going to get taken away from me.” Your willingness to be this open shocks you, but this needs to be done right. You would put your fears behind you for him. He squeezes your hand. “What do you mean?” 

“I just feel like every time I get something good that makes me happy, it’s gone faster than I can enjoy it. I mean..with uh…with Pedro, everything was going great, I was so happy…and he just.. left. All because things got hard, because he cared too much about everything else. I was getting attacked consistently, but he couldn’t handle it. My happiness got shattered. I don’t want that to happen again, especially not with someone like you. It sounds insane, we only just met, but Hugh, I really like you.” 

“I really like you too y/n.” He smiles and leans forward. His lips are getting closer to yours and as much as you want to kiss him, you can’t, not yet. “Wait..” You put the hand that isn’t holding his hand on his chest, stopping him from moving forward. “What’s wrong baby. You don't wanna kiss me?” there's a cocky smirk on his face and it was the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. His voice was smooth and seductive. “As much as I want to shove my tongue down your throat right now, I really wanna do this right.” His eyes widen slightly at your words. “Right?” He questions. “I wanna get to know you more and take it slow. I like you too much for this to be rushed and ruined.” “Hmm. I can work with that, but just to be completely sure, you don’t want to kiss me?” The smirk is back. “God..you’re too hot for your own good.” You grab his neck and pull him into you. You kiss him with as much passion as possible, it would be the last one for a while, until time passes and these feelings are certain. His tongue slithers across your bottom lip and you pull back from the kiss. “You’re really testing your luck Jackman.” You laugh and he shrugs. 

“Is waiting okay with you? I don’t want you to feel pressured or tied to me in some way.” You’re playing with his long fingers. “That’s fine by me baby, I'll wait for you as long as I need to.” He leans back into the couch. 

“Friends for now?” You ask. 

“Friends for now.” He nods.

Thank you for reading <33

part five

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07

if you want to be added/removed please leave a comment on this post! *let me know if I missed anyone or if the tag doesn't work*

[wtfsteveharrington]

after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader

summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.

contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn

reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!

word count: basically 3.9k

author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that

part two

★–————————–

Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors. 

“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?” 

Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago. 

“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off. 

“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.” 

He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there. 

Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?” 

“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.

Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.” 

And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him. 

———★–————————–

Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused. 

He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief. 

You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out? 

So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least. 

He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.

And there you are. 

Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off. 

“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”

Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.” 

Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too. 

His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream. 

Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him? 

Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess. 

Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone. 

Oh he’s so fucked. 

————–——★–————

Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.” 

He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late. 

Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work. 

He had to. 

Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen. 

You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?” 

You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.” 

Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.” 

And you laugh. 

You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions. 

“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now. 

And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today. 

He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems. 

It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg. 

And he stops looking there. 

Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them. 

Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away. 

God he just knows you’re a needy little thing. 

He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss. 

“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again. 

You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen. 

“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes. 

His cheeks are hot. 

Fuck is he blushing? 

He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot

You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you. 

Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you. 

Okay fine, it is. 

“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground. 

———————–★–———

Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop. 

So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor. 

He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up. 

The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different. 

“You good, Chef?” 

To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat. 

“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.” 

You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?” 

“Anything, Chef.” 

Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.” 

He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders. 

Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back. 

Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious. 

When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief? 

“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.” 

He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.” 

Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor. 

——————————★–

Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you. 

But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him. 

You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well. 

He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video. 

Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.

[crepezinhos]

Mummy or Mommy?

POV: What happens when you take the quote: ‘Halloween is the only day a woman can dress up like a whore and not get criticized for it’ too seriously to a point where your own best friend can’t handle it?

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a NSFW Oneshot

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Bondage, blindfolding, hair pulling, slight mommy kink and a lot of degradation.

“What the fuck were you thinking, huh?” He grunted in your ear while brutally fucking his cock inside your pussy over and over again. “Dressing up like some fucking cheap slut… You were looking up to this, weren’t you?” His passion while degrading you was noticeable, which just made your horny pussy grind around him even more.

You wanted to innovate this year’s Halloween party, but not this much.

Your costume was simply thick white stripes tied around the core parts of your body, leaving your legs and belly mostly exposed although it was a considerably cold day. It obviously called most people’s attention, including your friends. All the girls thought you looked sexy and praised your efforts with the makeup, but Scaramouche, one of your few male friends, but your best friend, didn’t actually say much.

He spent the whole party quietly staring at your body up and down, avoiding any comments, even when you asked for his opinion. You two only found yourselves fucking in the house's bathroom when you were alone with him in a sofa and you asked why did he have a pillow in his lap. It turned out he had a boner... an aching one.

“Ass up, mummy whore.” Scaramouche slapped a buttock of yours, causing your whole body to quiver.

Although Scaramouche has never shown off himself to be a common guy, you'd never expect him to be so aggressively kinky. He had pulled the bandages you had in your face up to blindfold your eyes and the ones in your arms to tie your wrists in the towel hanger of the room. He also almost ripped apart the ones in your boobs and crotch just because he was that desperate to see them. It was definitely humilliating and it would take you a while to redo all of that work, but you couldn't deny that being manhandled like that was making your pussy throb in pleasure. Scaramouche was incredibly good at .

“Fuck, Scara! Slow down!” You tried turning your face to him to beg for mercy, but that pathetic look of your blindfolded face and ruined makeup just made his cock twitch in arousal.

“Oh-ho? Begging already? But I have barely started yet...” He mocked you, continuing to hammer you in the same pace. “But maybe if you admit that you’re a cock-hungry slut, I might change my mind.” He proposed a game to you, leaning closer just to tease you further into that mind-numbing pleasure.

“F-Fuck! I am a cock-hungry slut who whore this outfit to have your attention!” You screamed whatever came to your mind at the moment to make him feel satisfied. “Y-You look so fine dressed as a vampire, I couldn’t just ignore it..! It got me so wet when I saw it…” You babbled between your outrageous moans.

“My costume, huh? I bet you’re loving to have your wrists tied up by my jacket then…” If he knew that you’d be such a perfect slut for him and his necessity to fuck rough, he would’ve done it centuries ago.

“Y-Yes! I love it! I love being dominated by you like this!” You suddenly felt your hair being pulled in his direction, which caused you to scream in shock and slight pain while your body spasmed and your eyes mired stars.

“Then, right after this, I want you to wear it for the rest of this party. I don’t want anyone else seeing you in this outfit, you hear me? No one. From now on this outfit belongs to me.” He whispered in a more dominant tone that took you off guard.

Scaramouche was melting your brains and muscles, causing them to be useless to you, especially now that you were cuffed and arched to him. All you could do in such position was to nod to his orders and moan, and you were shamelessly letting every single one of them out of your mouth, which made Scaramouche’s ego skyrocket. Having his hot best friend inflating his ego by acting and dressing like some cheap, submissive slut was ecstasy to him. It even made him feel a little emotional than he expected to feel since you were a nice and t(h)rustable friend.

Perhaps he likes you more than a friend? Or was starting to like? That’s something he still has to reflect about later because all he wanted was to milk your pussy dey right now.

“Such a fucking perfect slut… Who would’ve guessed that you’re a hidden masochist whore under that pretty face of yours?” He let go of your hair just to hold your hips with more precision, but still kept his back leaned close to you so he could put his tongue to use.

He started in the side of your neck, kissing it and licking it already aggressively. He was focusing specifically on the muscle of it that was slightly stretched out because of the position you were in.

“You taste so fucking good…” He purred while his warm breath made your skin sweaty. “I might just suck you until you’re bleeding…” He laughed at his own pun, but immediately went back to his mission of fucking you until you regretted your choice of costume.

But you had just acted so mean to him this entire party when he was supposed to be the mean one in the group, he had to scold you back to your submissive place.

The way you walked up to him when you two first met and immediately spoiled him that you weren’t wearing any underwear was enough to make him fantasize with his hands ripping your costume apart to see your nudity under it. There was also the way how the lack of bra usage made your boobs jiggle with every movement you did, especially when you were dancing, which made his eyes completely stone in them for most of the party. Of course it got him hard and quickly. But the way you laughed at him when you found out he had a boner was what triggered him into scolding you in his own peculiar way.

“Tch…” He got a little annoyed remembering those moments. “You were so proud of yourself some minutes ago… mocking me and laughing at my boner… But look at you know… getting off with me referring to you as a cheap slut… It’s pathetic, really, but I’m proud to be the one that will teach you about knowing your place…” He ranted while admiring every single moan that came out of your red lips, who had some chapstick dragged outside of them because of the sloppy kisses you shared while he prepared you for his cock.

He took a look to the side where the mirror was located.

God, he thought he looked so sexy with those marks of your chapstick kissing him in various spots of his face and neck… it all just made him more praised by you. And the way your crotches moved in rhythm made him feel like he was watching his own personal porn movie.

“Oh? Suddenly getting extra tight here?” He grunted huskily while he felt your pussy suddenly tightening around him again with no warning. It was like it was trying to milk an orgasm out of him desperately.

“G-Gonna cum!” Your voice was already becoming hoarse in exhaustion, which made Scaramouche just more thirsty with what he was doing to you.

“Perfect, because I’m cumming too and you’re gonna take it all inside, ok?” His pace managed to become even more erratic, punching your cervix with no care at all while his hand ran under your belly and started circling your clit violently just to make you more helpless under those cuffs.

“Yes, yes! I’m gonna..! I’m gonna!!” You were desperate for your climax, screaming like you were going to die.

“Come on, whore.” Scaramouche slapped your ass again, trying to stimulate you into climax the fastest he could with that jolt of pain.

And finally, both your bodies had that moment of peak together. Scaramouche sliding a thick and long string of cum inside your womb, and you exploding cum all around his cock. Your scream was feral and his grunt was very powerful, both of your bodies shaking and twitching with that peak, enjoying every noise you heard from each other.

“F-Fuck!” Your body quivered while he spilled his burning seed inside you, demonstrating how overwhelmed you were feeling. But no matter how much your body agonized, he still kept his hips stoned in place, looking forward to brand you as his with that load of cum.

“Good girl… taking all of me inside even if it is too much for you like a true-spirit whore…” He giggled meaningfully while gently tapping the same buttock he slapped previously, watching you twitching in a sadistic kind of joy.

He quickly pulled out, wanting to check just how much you came around him. His cock was entirely wet and full of stains of your essence.

“Look at this mess you did in me… Oh, you’re absolutely cleaning this up.” He reached a hand to his jacket and pulled it away from the hanger, making your body finally become free again. Since your legs were extremely weakened by sex, all they could do was crumble and kneel down in the floor, your face resting against the cold white wall.

But your moment of break didn’t last as much as you needed it to. Scaramouche was determined to make your ruined face suck, still blindfolded. That’s why your hair was suddenly fisted by his hand and forced to turn around.

“Say ‘ahh’…” He rested his cock on top of your lips, aching to make its way inside your mouth. His hands also moved to your fringe, pushing it all the way to the back of your head until he could clearly glare all of your face breathing in and out exhausted.

“Ahhh…” You obliged to his orders and stuck your tongue out, which impulsed him to immediately place his cock on top of it, pulsing to feel your warm tongue licking it like it was your source of water.

You, thankfully, obliged to that too and started licking him up and down, all around his length, since you couldn’t see where he was stained. You looked so destroyed licking cum like a kitten, but that made you look so beautiful to his hungry eyes. He deadly wished he could spend more time messing with you, but the constant knocks on the door to go inside the bathroom were annoying him to a point he wanted to kill whoever was doing that.

“A-Are you clean now..?” You asked while pulling yourself out of his range, a chord of saliva connecting you and his cock for a second before it fell in your chin.

He took a look at his cock, meeting it perfectly clean transparent, but still wet with your saliva, while using a hand to wipe your chin.

“Yes, I am… Good girl.” He patted your head gently while grabbing a piece of toilet paper to finally wipe his dick dry. “Get up.” He shifted his tone as soon as he zipped his pants back to their place.

With the help of his hands, you stood up, still struggling with your shaky legs. But Scaramouche held you against the wall while rearranging you with a knee. He firstly took off your blindfold and tried tying it back to its spot in your forehead, which made you also available to help him out. Of course you didn’t look perfect. Your mascara and lipstick were ruined and you couldn’t get the straps in breasts back to their place, unless you took it all away from you and did it again.

“Shit…” You complained while looking at yourself in the mirror by your side.

“Here.” Scaramouche grabbed his jacket from the floor behind you and handed it to you.

God, he looked so much better without that jacket on him, although it did add more to his costume. But now that his wine-colored dress shirt without most buttons attaching to their hole was all he wore in his chest, it made him look twice sexy to you, especially since some of the many kisses you marked in him were visible there.

“Thanks…” You were a little embarrassed now that sex was over. “You might want to button your shirt again.” You started dressing his jacket and he immediately started closing up his buttons.

“Thanks. Can you walk?” He asked while reaching for the door, also awkward.

“I… don’t think so…” You looked away, but Scaramouche simply took your worst in his hand.

“Come… let’s get out of here.” His look was surprisingly very calm and smooth to you. A version of Scaramouche you’ve never witnessed.

“What a gentleman I got myself tonight…” You mocked while he opened the door.

“… Shut up.” You two finally stepped out, meeting a man right in front of the door that seemed to be waiting to use it for a long time.

Scaramouche ignored him, but you felt a little guilty and embarrassed to know that some minutes ago you were fucking with your best friend with degradation kink.

“Hey, you two! Where the fuck you two have been at?!” I’ve been looking for you two for hours!” Your friend in common, Faruzan, suddenly showed up in front of you two, dressed up as a sexy cat, but when she noticed the differences in your costumes, one of her eyebrows frowned. “What the hell happened to you, Y/N?! Weren’t you supposed to be a mummy mommy? You look like an actual mummy!” She laughed at you, but then she realized that you two looked awkwardly sweaty. “… Don’t tell me you two fucked.” She looked a little concerned.

“She was the one trying to fuck actually.” Scara suddenly started arguing with her for you. “Found her drunk ass trying to hit on Alhaitham. Even showed her boobs to him, but she failed so bad, she can’t even stick the stripes back.” Scaramouche and Faruzan started cackling together at his fake story, taking advantage of the fact that she was a little drunk to invent a really weird lie.

“Alhaitham?!” Faruzan acted like she had just heard the gossip of the year to you, who just stared at her still exhausted.

You breathed in and out.

“… Yeah, I tried.” You looked away, and she started cackling again.

“Oh my god! You’re sooooo stupid! Out of all hotties you could hit on here, you picked that geek?! Even Scaramouche was a better option!” She couldn’t hold back her giggles, barely spilling her alcohol out of her cup, while Scaramouche smirked at the unintentional compliment.

“Yeah, I know…” You avoided eye contact with Scaramouche.

“Let me take her home now. Her legs are, like, barely working.” He finally started talking more serious.

“Ok, ok! Don’t try hitting on him too, you silly!” She pointed at Scaramouche while talking to you, and finally walked away.

As soon as she was out of your way, you two went back to normal

“Really..? That was your lie? You’re lucky she was drunk enough to believe it.” You mocked him.

“It worked, so shut up.” He brushed you off, finally opening the doors to the exterior. “So you think I’m a better option than Alhaitham?” He asked in the same aroused tone he was using in the bathroom.

The cold air of the night immediately hit your bodies, making you shiver a little bit since your costume result wasn’t made for fall. You didn’t expect the weather to change so much in such a short matter of hours.

“Please… not even if he was as ugly as you.” You scoffed at him.

“That wasn’t what you were saying some minutes ago, mommy.” He opened the door to the backseat of his car.

“Are you trying to take me home right now? I’m fine! I still want to party! Gosh, and you can’t even let a friend sit next you…” You tried pushing him away, but he resisted and looked at you ready to laugh.

“… Don’t tell me you didn’t figure out we’re gonna fuck in the backseat.” He giggled at you.

And then you remembered what he previously told you before walking you around.

“I can’t predict the meaning of every puzzle that comes out of your mouth!” Scaramouche simply smirked and pushed the both of you in the cushions and smacking the door shut.

“You’re just slow.” He shrugged his shoulders while positioning himself between your legs. “Now… let’s go for round two. Shall we, mommy?” His pun made you smirk in anticipation.

“Sure… try being more gentle this time.” You shrugged your shoulder while sliding the zipper of his jacket down again.

“Gentle?” He laughed for a moment.

“I’ll fuck your brains out of your head.”

Taglist: @alatusorrow @shyentsfoundherink @luminieee @the-stinky-winky @kindofshyent @amoyanderes

Happy Halloween for all the Scaramouche whores! 🎃

[sincerelyneo]

touch tank | l.hc

“he's so pretty when he goes down on me, gold-skinned eager baby”

💿now playing: touch tank by quinnie

❯ summary: Hyuck just can’t understand it. Why don’t you want to sit on his face?

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut

❯ words: 3.0k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, oral sex (fem receiving), face sitting, nipple play, male masturbation, brief hair pulling, mention of death as a joke, reader uses she/her pronouns, haechan always being pussy drunk agenda

“What’s the big deal?”

Your boyfriend asks the question nonchalantly - as though you’re being completely unreasonable - which in some capacity maybe you are. But it’s not your fault. He may call it unreasonable, you would call it being cautious.

“Well for starters I’m not particularly keen on the idea of me suffocating you,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

Hyuck doesn’t listen - that’s not true - he’s hearing you but he thinks your excuses are ridiculous. You can tell by the way he’s still trying to kiss the skin on your neck down to the centre of your chest, and teasing the neckline of your tank lower until the edge is resting along the tops of your breasts.

“You won’t suffocate me,” he promises, shifting down to nuzzle further underneath your shirt until the tip of his nose nudges your nipple, which has already hardened from just a few of his kisses. You shiver, gasping when his lips catch on your skin.

“Considering how wet I make you, I’d be more likely to drown than suffocate baby,” he teases, his smirk visible just before his mouth opens around your nipple.

He sucks gently, ever so sweetly, just light enough to make you whine. When he talks again, it’s right against your skin.

“And now that I’m thinking about it, it wouldn’t be the worst way to go, and I think it would be kinda hot to have that on my headstone.”

You scoff out a laugh, “you’re unbelievable.”

This time you feel his smile on your nipple right before he bites down softly, making your head fall back.

You know what he’s doing - he’s good at this - making you feel so fucking amazing that your mind goes foggy. So, you squeeze your eyes shut, shake your head, and try to regain your focus on the situation at hand.

“What if I fall over?” You protest.

The rebuttal sounds weak - even to you. And when Hyuck slips his arm around your waist and pulls until you settle onto your side; you know it sounds weak to him too.

He starts to suck another gentle kiss over your nipple before trailing down over your belly, pushing your top up in contrast to the lower he goes. You squirm when his lips touch your bare stomach, clenching your thighs together tightly to try and dull the throbbing that’s started in your clit.

“You won’t,” he replies, slowly. “It’s just like riding my dick, and you know how to do that pretty damn well.”

Your voice betrays you, and you whimper under your breath before you can even think to hold it back. When you look down at Hyuck, he’s smiling lazily at you, like he knows he’s already won.

“But that’s different,” you insist, keeping your legs closed tight when his fingers try to sneak between them. “Your dick is supposed to get wet when we have sex. That’s the whole point.”

“Who says my tongue doesn’t want that either?” He murmurs, curving his spine down to kiss along the band of your panties. You groan - half in frustration and half in arousal - when he succeeds in stroking a fingertip against your clit; he circles it lightly, using as much room as you allow him.

“C’mon,” he tries again, voice pitched low and inviting. He drags his lips down to where his fingers are and starts kissing there instead, increasingly persistent, nuzzling up against your clit through your panties until you give in and open your legs for him. When you try to tilt your body to lie on your back again, Hyuck hooks his arm around your thigh and pulls you towards him instead, “Not like that, baby, over me, c’mon.”

“Hyuck,” you whine; you reach down to get a grip on his hair, hiding your face in your now bent elbow.

He doesn’t bother with removing the barrier of panties just yet, sucking with enough pressure for you to feel it through them. You move your hips against his mouth in tiny motions, pushing forward against his lips, and you know you're already fucking soaking, you can feel it if you shift in just the right direction to meet his mouth.

Only seconds pass before Hyuck pulls you closer again, this time slowly rolling himself onto his back as well, but you resist swinging your outer leg over to straddle his face like he wants, digging your nails into his scalp instead.

Hissing at the pain, Hyuck arches his neck to lick along the crease of your thigh. He loses his patience, curling his fingers around your panties and tugging them down, “At least let me see you, yeah?”

You flush at just the thought of him being so close to you and paying so much attention, like he always does. He doesn’t waste another second before he’s pulling your underwear off your legs, and tossing them down at your feet.

He kisses the inside of your thigh and the line of your hip before settling firmly on his back, looking up at you hopefully. You groan again, fully out of frustration this time, and irritably pull his hair. “You’re not giving up then?”

“Nope,” he says. He looks more aroused than he usually does by now, his chest rising with his heavier breaths. “God loves a trier.”

“Wish he didn’t,” you mumble.

You bring both hands up to your face and push your hair away from your forehead, clenching your thighs again before shifting up onto your knees, watching Hyuck’s eyes move down between your legs as you settle over his face.

He isn’t subtle, spreading you with his thumbs and looking over you. Your muscles clench on their own when you think about what he might see. He swears quietly to himself, and you wonder if it’s visible how wet you already are or if he’ll have to feel it to find out.

“C’mere, babe,” he says, keeping you open, still watching between your legs. He looks up to your face when you squirm, “can’t reach, I wanna taste you.”

“God, shut up.”

You lean forward, putting all your weight on your hands that are braced against the mattress, and slowly spread your thighs wider, muscles shaking already. Hyuck moves his hands to your hips and helps you ease down, leaning up to meet you at first, tongue already waiting to press flat against your clit. You gasp in surprise and jerk your hips forward before drawing up again, away from his mouth, but he tightens his grip on you.

“Shh, c’mon,” he says, easy and coaxing, “relax and c’mere.”

You tense as he pulls you back down to his mouth, but he gives you warning this time, turning his head to let his lips trail along the inside of your thigh before slowly making his way between your legs again, kissing your clit gently. It’s easier this time, and you try to let yourself relax.

The position just feels dirty to you, your breasts hanging heavy where you’re bent forward, nipples brushing against your top. Hyuck’s hands soothing on your body, sliding from your hips up your sides and back down, and you let yourself moan quietly when he gives your clit another soft lick.

“Yeah, that’s better,” he murmurs; you echo him, a quiet yeah that sounds more pleading than you expect.

He hooks his fingers around where your hips bend into your thighs, lowering his head back to the mattress to encourage you to drop down even more. You feel flushed and hot along nearly your entire body, especially right between your legs when you give in and inch down further, seeking out his tongue again. With your head hanging down, it’s hard to look anywhere but his face; he looks back, fitting his lips around your clit when you reach his mouth. He sucks softly, tilting his head back more, and the first touch of his chin against your cunt makes you blush deeper.

For his part, Hyuck just sighs against you and closes his eyes, flexing his fingers on your hips and slipping his tongue over your clit while it’s inside his mouth. You gasp and dig your nails into the mattress, tempted to move a hand down to hold onto his hair. But you need both hands for balance, keeping yourself relaxed while Hyuck pulls you down closer to him with gentle little tugs.

Honestly, it feels nothing at all like riding his cock; with his cock, you know then that you can bear down with as much weight as you like, know that he’ll push right back up and meet you. Like this, you’re shaky and unsure of how heavily you can settle down over his mouth, and he’s hardly giving you a chance to think it through. He keeps his tongue flat against you but slides it down from your clit until he can push the tip inside your cunt just enough to tease. You moan softly and try to roll your hips forward, wanting something deep enough to clench around, but Hyuck holds you still.

“Like that?” He asks, and you groan, squirming down against his lips when he kisses you there, thumbs going back to holding you open so he can lick inside.

You know you don’t need to answer his question - he knows your body better than you do - but you reply anyway with a strangled curse, shifting your hips to grind against the flat of his tongue now that his hands can’t hold you still. He moans softly against you, trailing off into a hum as he sucks a kiss over your clit.

“Keep doing that,” he mumbles, words vibrating against you, “move like that, make yourself cum.”

Your breath leaves you in a rush and you bend closer to the mattress, elbows going momentarily weak.

You pant; sounding desperate as you obey him. He starts sliding his hands from your hips up your stomach and under your top to give you free rein of your movements.

It’s hotter than you expected it to be, moving to rub your clit against Hyuck’s tongue. He reaches up far enough to pinch both your nipples between his fingers, just tight enough that there’s a tug when you roll your hips forward, shoulders pulling back. When you push forward far enough to get the tip of his tongue nestled inside you, you can feel his nose nudging your clit; you stay like that for a moment, rocking down against the pointed end of his tongue before you give in, whining.

“In me, put it in me deeper.”

Hyuck groans louder against you now, pinching your nipples tighter. “So fuckin’ wet,” he murmurs, tilting his head back and slipping his tongue inside as deep as it’ll let him go.

“Keep your hands there,” you instruct, and he pinches again as a reply, gentler this time. Ignoring any leftover uncertainty, you straighten your back to sit up and free your hands, immediately cradling his head.

You can feel his heavy breaths against you every time he pulls his tongue back to lick his lips. It becomes easier to take control of the situation. You find, Hyuck doesn’t seem to protest when he’s like this, licking over and inside with eagerness each time you urge yourself closer to his mouth.

The slow climb to your orgasm starts when he forgets your earlier request and heads back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a slick sound that’s loud. You let your head tilt back into the feeling, the ends of your hair tickling the curve of your spine.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe, not even sure if he hears you over his own encouraging hums. The vibrations are subtle but just enough for you to rock into, twisting your fingers tight into his hair and holding on as you move to keep his head in place.

Using Hyuck’s mouth to actually work yourself up to cumming is much more like riding his cock. The motions feel the same: thighs flexing, hips tilting for the best angle, fighting to keep your balance. It might even be better than riding him, with the firm suction and Hyuck’s soft tongue, knowing that he’s conserving his breaths for you, wanting to make you cum more than he wants anything else at the moment.

His hands have strayed down at your ribs, fingers digging in to hold onto you like you’re holding onto him, and his steadying grip along with the constant pull on your clit is what makes you finally lose it.

You let yourself groan out loud when it first hits, grinding down hard into his mouth, trusting him to know how much you can take while you ride it out. It becomes too intense in seconds, your sensitivity ramping up so quickly that you can’t keep up with it, but Hyuck pulls his mouth away as soon as you whimper, dragging his nails down your sides.

“Fuck,” he groans. He works one arm under your thigh to reach for his dick, and you feel his shoulder shaking underneath you right away.

You’re panting, still hovering over his mouth; he’s wet down to his chin, lips parted and slick. It’s a bit of a rush to look down at him and watch his eyes open to find yours, dropping back down between your legs while he touches himself.

You smile hazily, “Think you liked that more than I did, and I’m the one that came.”

“I might’ve,” he agrees, his voice tight.

Wanting to give him a show, you release your grip on his hair to touch yourself, fingers slipping down until you inch one inside, deeper and more solid than Hyuck’s tongue was, but jolting from the sensitivity. You’re close enough to his face that your knuckles brush his damp chin, and he tucks his head down to kiss the backs of your fingers.

“Don’t tease me,” he says.

“Who’s teasing?” You ask, as playful as you can sound with your breath still panting fast.

Your original hesitance about the position isn’t even at the back of your mind now, not with Hyuck’s chest heaving under your weight and his eyes flicking fast over your body like he isn’t sure where to look.

“You could let me taste again,” he tries, tilting his head to the side to rub his face up against your inner thigh. You feel his arm move quicker, like just the idea is helping bring him off. It’s not an idea you oppose, judging from the small burst of arousal you feel when he kisses your skin and licks between breaths.

“That good, is it?”

You take in another one of your fingers and let them sink deeper, still sensitive enough to draw a gasp. Hyuck doesn’t respond, just keeps his hand moving and looks up at your face, barely starting to tremble the closer he gets.

When you slip your fingers out, you re-tighten your grip on his hair. His eyes are losing focus, but still trying to stay open to watch you. The sheen on his lips still glistens, so you drag your fingertip along his bottom lip and only get halfway across his mouth before he opens to suck them inside. He finally stops delaying the inevitable and shuts his eyes.

You hardly ever see your boyfriend like this, his body language edging on desperate. His cock is flushed darkest at the head and nearly as wet as you are, a little pool of pre-cum gathers on his stomach. The hand not jerking himself now is gripping your thigh tightly enough to leave indentations around his fingertips, and his toes are curled in on themselves; his whole body is wound so tightly, muscles straining.

He keeps sucking at your fingers sharply, letting them muffle any noises he makes.

“Didn’t know you’d like this so much,” you say, “next time I’ll turn around so I can suck your cock too.”

Much like before, just the idea is enough for Hyuck; he freezes just as his orgasm starts, then moans around your fingers, mouth going slack even as his hand keeps working fast. You hook your fingers gently over the bottom set of his teeth and rub your thumb over his jaw.

Just as you’re about to contort yourself enough to lean down and kiss him, you feel a hot splash against your back and you gasp, even as Hyuck’s eyes stay closed tightly.

“Oh my god,” you say, dragging your fingers from his mouth and over his chin, waiting until he opens his eyes to continue. “If you got cum on my shirt, I take back my offer.”

Hyuck’s laugh leaves him before he can help it, more of a giggle with little power behind it. “Payback,” he pants, “for being so difficult.”

“I was thinking of you in my protests,” you argue.

He ignores you. “Well for someone who didn’t wanna come up here like this you sure don’t seem to wanna move now.”

“That’s because, I know when I move we’re going to have to clean up. Also I’m in a position of power like this.”

Attempting to use that supposed position of power, you rise to your knees and finally pull off your top completely, dropping it unceremoniously on Hyuck’s head before letting out a giggle of your own.

“Speaking of which, you can do laundry today,” you say.

“Only if you let me fuck you on the washing machine,” he counters, mimicking your tone. He makes no move to pull the cloth from his face.

“Hyuck!” You snap; he shrugs animatedly, making up for the lack of visible facial expression. After a beat, you relent, “I suppose those vibrations probably would be nice.”

[dixonsstinkysock]

Twins

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Era: Commonwealth (Halloween)

Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: Kissing?

Word Count: 1,850

Summary: Your little boy wants to be just like his Daddy.

A/N: This was inspired by @bambidixon …I couldn’t stop thinking about it plus it’s Halloween time so why not. Kinda rushed so...Hope you enjoy! 

The smell of your famous homemade alfredo sauce wafts through the air. The freshly cut pasta is boiling away on the stove, made from the pasta maker Daryl got you for Christmas. You’ve always had a passion for cooking, making food from scratch whenever you get the chance. Daryl was different, he prefers opening a can of some vegetable and calling it a night. He deserves better than that, so you give him your best. Speaking of Daryl, He, Judith, RJ, and your son Beau sit in the living room watching an old movie, obviously Daryl’s idea. He’s a sucker for old movies, says it reminds him of the only good part of his childhood.

 After a while, your strawberry shaped timer went off, signaling the pasta was ready, another thing Daryl got you. Your kitchen was a mitch-matched mess but you loved it, it gave the place some character. After stirring the thick, creamy sauce you move to grab a strainer. Draining the noodles and combining them with the sauce, you add a bit of chicken you shredded prior, mixing everything together. 

“Dinner!’ You call out, hearing Daryl tell the kids to go sit at the table. You feel a pair of warm, strong arms wrap around you, and then the smell of tobacco.

“I can do the rest” Daryl leaves soft, sweet kisses down your neck. Slowly rocking side to side with you, gently taking the cooking spoon from your hand and stirring the pasta himself. You turn your head to look him in the eyes, his eyes are beautiful, a deep navy blue like the ocean. “Are you sure? I can do it— I don’t mind”

He gives you that sexy, lopsided, half smile. “Nah…go sit. I’m just puttin’ it on plates right? Can’t mess that up…” You reluctantly pull away from him, going to sit down with the kids as Daryl plates the food. After a moment Daryl starts to bring the food in, you stand to help him but he insists you sit and relax. He hands the kids their plates before bringing out yours and his.

The kids say their “Thank you’s” and dig in. You can tell Beau is Daryl’s son by the way they both eat. You always thought it was cute, how alike they both were. The hair, the smile, the attitude…Almost seems like the only thing he got from you was his eyes, well…one of his eyes. He has Heterochromia, one eye blue like his fathers, the other matching yours. Daryl said he was our good luck charm, the best of both of us. Halfway into dinner you decide to speak up–

“So, have any of you thought of what you wanna be for Halloween..?”

RJ was the only one who answered, having thought alot about this. Judith and Beau were silent, still eating.

“Really? That is pretty cool RJ. Judith? Beau? What about you two? Any ideas?” You look at the two, confused at why they were so silent. Usually Judith is the first to answer, and Beau is the same thing every year. He loves that stupid Dinosaur costume. You and Daryl tried keeping up with the holiday’s back in Alexandria, wanting to give the kids some type of normal childhood.

“I don’t know…I don’t think I wanna dress up this year.” Judith murmurs looking down at her food. Daryl finally looks up and stops eating. “How come Jude? You love Halloween.” 

Judith shrugs “I don’t know, I don’t even know what I would be. Plus I’m getting too old to be dressing up…” She takes another bite of her food, obviously done talking.

“Uhh, You're never too old to dress up J. Look at me, I dress up every year.” You look at her pretending to be offended. She looks at you with a “seriously?” face. 

“You’re the same thing every year, it basically doesn’t count.”

Knowing she’s right, you turn to Daryl silently asking him to take over. He shrugs, taking another bite of his pasta, “Okay…What about you baby? What do you wanna be?” Beau doesn’t look up and just shrugs, which is weird because he is usually ecstatic when we ask him, every year telling us he wants to be a Dinosaur. This gets Daryl's attention, and he questions Beau.

“What’s wrong buddy? You don’t wanna wear your Dinosaur costume?” Beau shakes his head and that’s the end of the conversation. 

After dinner, you’re in the kitchen cleaning up. Daryl is getting the kids ready for bed, Beau being more stubborn than usual tonight. Daryl walks in after a while, coming up behind you and leaning on the counter.

“Everything okay? Heard you were having some trouble with Beau..” Daryl sighs and runs a hand down his face.

“Yeah he uh…He wants you to put him down instead.” 

“Okay..Do you mind finishing these dishes for me?” He nods, standing up to take over. You give him a quick kiss as you walk by, a silent thank you while walking to your son's room. 

Knock Knock Knock…

Beau looks up from his picture book, he’s been doing amazing with his reading recently though he still likes to just look at the pictures. “Hey… What’s going on my love?” You make your way towards his bed, sitting on the edge with him. He leans his head on you, snuggling closer.

“Mommy…I know what I wanna be for Halloween…” You look down at him.

“Really? Did you not wanna say it in front of everyone at the table?” He nods moving to sit in your lap. “So…what do you wanna be?”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking of the right words to say. “Can you promise to keep it a secret?” He looks up at you with his big beautiful eyes and his father’s half smile. 

“Of course, pinky promise.” You stretch out your pinky to lock in your promise, he does the same. 

“Okay…I wanna be Papa for Halloween…” A smile starts to creep in, already imagining the tiny version of Daryl’s angel wing vest, Beau living up to his nickname “Mini Daryl Dixon”. You’d have to get Carol to help with the sewing, it should be hard to find a pair of jeans that fit Beau, that boy is spoiled by Daryl. Finding a toy crossbow might be a challenge, you’d have to go on a few runs maybe…

“Momma?” Beau snaps you out of your planning, you look back down at him. Brushing his hair out of his face and moving to lay him down. 

“Listen, I love that you wanna be your daddy for Halloween, but it is time for bed…Guess what? Tomorrow we can go visit Aunt Carol and ask her to help make your costume okay? We’re gonna get you a vest and a crossbow just like daddy’s.”

“Really?” 

“Yep, and we don’t have to tell your daddy until Halloween. What do you think?”

“Okay..” He nods and gives you a big smile, getting comfortable under the blankets. You give him a quick kiss on his head and stand. “Goodnight Beau, I love you.” 

“Love you too, momma..” He flips over to look out his window and falls asleep. 

Daryl’s sitting on the couch, just having finished cleaning the kitchen. You sit next to him, laying on his shoulder and closing your eyes. “He okay,,?”

“Yeah, just wanted to talk to me..” 

Daryl looks down, carding his fingers through your hair as much as he could. “Bout what?” You smile, keeping your promise to Beau. “Nothin important, just about how much he loved me…of course” Daryl looked back up at the TV. “Right…Of Course.” 

It was the day of Halloween, everyone was getting ready to go trick-or-treating. Judith decided at the last minute she actually did want to dress up. Lucky for her you knew that would happen and prepared a few options for her, Now you were helping Beau finish his costume. You and Carol were able to sneak out a few times looking for a toy crossbow and a child-sized leather vest. You two found the crossbow no problem, the vest was a different story. Carol gave up looking and decided to make one from scratch, finding a normal-sized leather vest and cutting it down to Beau’s size. 

You and Beau are in his room putting his costume on, he was very picky about how everything was sitting so you two have been in there for a while. Daryl, Judith, and RJ are already ready to head out, the three waiting by the door for us. Daryl goes as himself every year…how original, RJ is going as a walker, and Judith is a Samurai, in honor of their mother Michonne. 

“You two almost done?” Daryl yells from the living room, impatient as usual. 

“Yes, one more minute!” You respond, doing the last finishing touches on Beau’s makeup. He wanted his Daddy’s scar as well, practically begged for it. After finishing his costume, he opens the door slightly and shouts out. “Daddy! Close your eyes, you can’t see it yet!”

“Okay..Okay..” Daryl complies, just wanting to leave and get this over with.

“You promise you aren’t looking?” 

“Yes! I promise! You better hurry or all the good candy is gonna be gone boy!” 

You walk out first, well..Beau pushed you out first, nervous of how his Dad was going to react to his costume. You two make it down the hallway, Daryl is standing by the entryway, waiting for Beau to tell him he can look. “Okay..now you can look…” Beau is standing beside you, fidgeting with his hands, crossbow strapped to his back. His vest Carol sewed up for him is identical to Daryl’s, blue wing and all. He’s got the stitched up jeans and a strip of red cloth tied around his neck to imitate Daryl’s bandana.

“No fuckin’ way…Are you shittin’ me?” Daryl looks up at you in disbelief, you can tell he loves it. Judith and RJ are so interested in Beau’s costume they don’t even say “Swear jar”. Beau looks up at Daryl, a bit anxious from his reaction. “Do you like it..?”

“Do I like it..?” Daryl crouches down to his level. “I think that’s the best costume I’ve ever seen, Little man. We’re basically the same person now…” Beau visibly relaxes after Daryl says that, now excited to leave. Daryl stands and opens the door for the kids, signaling that it was time to leave. You and Daryl hang back watching the kids walk down the hallway, glad to finally get going. 

“So..? You like it?” You lean on Daryl’s shoulder, wanting a moment to yourselves before being crowded by the hundreds of people outside.

“I love it…I love you. You’re amazin’..” Daryl leans his head on yours, leaving a soft kiss on the crown of your head. You lean into his touch, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself to follow the kids.

“…I love you too.” You and Daryl finally make your way out the door, closing and locking it, trying to catch up with the kids. 

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

hiii i love ur fics idk if ur requests are on rn but can u do a short drabble of the tiktok trend where the guy hasn't ask his gf to be his valentines day so she "put him on sale" as a joke ofc but she's like

BF FOR SALE ($3.50)

- amazing cook

-crusty feet

- will buy anything u want

any character is fine but i would love katsuki or shoto!!

LMFAOOOO this is for sure the funniest ask ive gotten yet😭😭😭 this is so cute !! and very long overdue I apologize writer block devil was rlly kickin my ass😞 valentines been over but yk i had to write this ! i was rlly hesitating between writing for shoto or katsuki and then i realized i could write for BOTH OF THEM!! and so i did ! i tried honoring your request as best i could, hope you like it <3 !

no pronouns mentioned, pure tooth rotting nasty fluff, use of petnames (my love for shoto and sweets, babe and idiot (lol) for katsuki), katsuki is an asshat but when isn’t he, shy katsuki, shoto is a bit of an airhead, kissing, biting, reader is petty asl lol, lemme know if i missed something else !

todoroki shoto ♥︎

“yn, my love.”

“yes, shoto ?”

the corners of shoto’s mouth pull into a tiny frown at the usage of his first name. no baby, no hun, not even sho. just shoto.

“did i do something to upset you ?” he asks carefully from his spot at the foot of your dorm bed he seems to be stuck at, he can’t bring himself to move until he knows if you’re actually mad at him, and he has an inkling you are.

you look up at him for no longer than a second then look back down at your phone screen “what makes you think that ?” you question back nonchalantly.

“you posted something on your tiktok account..” shoto doesn’t have a clue how to have this conversation with you and it makes him a little nervous, he regrets not going to izuku for advice after all.

“mhmmmm~” you hum, urging him to continue knowing damn well you know what he’s going to say. you wanted to hear him say it himself.

you know shoto’s had no previous relationships before you so these type of things probably don’t mean as much to him as they do to you, but doesn’t everyone want their boyfriends to ask them to be their valentine ? you sure do, and your boyfriend hadn’t asked you to be his yet, so as petty as you know you were being at the time you posted the tiktok he’s no doubt here for right now.

shoto feels like a criminal on trial desperately trying to plead his case with you being the judge. tentatively, he asks “ you said you were..putting me up for sale ?”

immediately it’s like a switch had been flipped. you place your phone down onto your bed next to you, shoto wishes he could take your phone’s place. you cross your leg over the other and bring your hands together like a super villain revealing their master plan “yes. yes i did.”

“oh.”

silence. nothing.

shoto tried—he’s trying. he’s trying so insanely hard to make sense of everything that is you but he simply can’t. he breaks eye contact to think of more to ask but his attention is quickly pulled back to you when he hears you whine.

“uuuuughhh shotoooo~” you moan, throwing your head back against the headboard. “you’re not supposed to say ‘oh’ !” you’re face changes from grumpy to deadpan as you lower your voice slightly to try and mimic him. on any other day this would’ve made him laugh but he’s beyond lost at this point. he clears his throat before speaking again.

“ i don’t know what i’m supposed to say—or what i did for you to want to sell me.” he thinks “and for 3 dollars at that.”

you let out a laugh when you process his words and shoto’s shoulders magically feel lighter at the sound. carefully, he slides a little closer to the side of your bed so he can stand at your bedside. little by little. you pretend you don't notice.

"it's what you deserve for not askin' me to be your valentine."

the secret’s finally out and you get to see how the cog wheels in his head are starting to turn in real time, it has you holding back a giggle when he looks up at you like a deer in headlights.

“is that..why you were mad ?” you nod, humming out a playful mhmm

“ya really hurt my feelings you know ? to think my own boyfriend wouldn’t ask me” you clench your fist over your heart and fake sob dramatically.

shoto huffs out a laugh, relieved to see you’re not actually mad, and goes to sit down on your bed. he tentatively reaches for your hand and squeezes it twice when you let him hold it. before bringing it up to his lips and placing a sweet little kiss to it. it feels as if pop rocks are going off inside of you.

“ i’m sorry for not asking you to be my valentine.” he apologizes, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing your hand “ i was thinking i should’ve, but i didn’t want you to think it was weird since we’re already dating.” his thumb goes to run over your fingers “ i was worried me being too intense would scare you off.” he mumbles.

your eyebrows furrow, you lean towards him to make him look at you “ you wouldn’t scare me off, who told you that ?”

“kaminari. he said ‘coming on too strong scares away the babes.’ ” shoto quotes

you sigh. of course it was that bigmouth portable charger filling his head with this stuff.

you pull your hand out of his grasp and he looks up to protest but you grab his face in your hands before he can say anything, you can practically see him start melting at the contact as he blinks at you slowly, he reminds you of a cat.

“sho” you purr, rubbing his cheeks “ rule number one is never ever listening to kaminari’s dating advice. most of the time it is very wrong.” you explain.

shoto presses his mouth to the palm of your hand “yeah, i’m starting to regret that now.” he speaks into it, you snort. he leans in closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips and you reciprocate, pressing a few more kisses on his lips for good measure “ i’m really sorry for not asking you.” he says in between pecks. you hum in response to him placing even more kisses all around your face. “s’okay. i’m also kinda sorry for putting you up for sale.” you say, running your fingers through his hair while he places kisses on your shoulder.

he lifts his head up to look at you then, an eyebrow raised with an amused expression on his face “kinda sorry ?” he asks.

you nod “mhm. kinda sorry.”

he chuckles to himself, then gets up so he can climb into bed next to you. when he’s positioned how he likes it, with his head in your lap while you comb through his hair with your fingers, he sighs peacefully “well, it wasn’t all bad. i’m glad you think i’m a good cook.”

“what about the crusty feet ?”

“i’m choosing to ignore that part.” shoto smirks lightly to himself when he hears you laugh at his joke, clearly proud of himself for it. “and i will buy you anything you want, to make it up to you.”

“i don’t need you to buy me anything, sho” you roll your eyes with a lovesick smile “ all you gotta do is ask.”

he blinks up at you, looks off the the side as if he’s deep in thought, and suddenly gets off your lap to sit right in front of you. you never think you’ll get over how pretty your boyfriend is and being reminded of it with how close he is to you makes you flustered. he leans in to kiss you passionately and you don’t know if it’s the love he pours into it or the lack of air that has you so dizzy, you don’t dwell on it.

when he pulls away he’s looking at you like you hung up the stars in the sky and he simply, almost shyly smiles at you and asks.

“ will you be my valentine ?”

bakugou katsuki ♥︎

you did not expect katsuki to come barging into your dorm room five minutes after you’d posted your tiktok. the loud sound of someone banging on your door and proceeding to let themselves in seconds later causes you to let out a squeak.

in comes katsuki, phone tightly clutched in his hand and the moment his eyes zeroed on you he’s like a bull charging at a red flag. he stands right in front of you, angry frown on display before he shoves his phone in your face.

“explain this. now.” he growls, you have to hold back a laugh, keeping your face as calm as possible you look between him, his screen then back at your phone.

“what’s confusing about it ? i thought i was being pretty straight forward.”

his eye twitches. “why the hell did you put me up for sale ?! and for three dollars and fifty fuckin’ cents ?!” he exclaims, you can’t help the snort that bursts out of you, though katsuki doesn’t look as amused as you are.

“explain.” he deadpans.

“i think you can figure it out.” you shrug back.

he mutters insults to himself that you can’t catch “well obviously fuckin’ not, cus I wouldn’t be askin’ you if i did.” you simply shrug and look back at your phone. “i wrote it in the caption.”

it takes him a second to process then he’s tapping his password and opening the clock app at super sonic speed. his eyebrows furrow and you see him tapping away at his phone. his eyes widen when he reads your caption and he looks down at you with a mix of desperation and disbelief.

“you’re mad cus I didn’t ask you to be my valentine ?” your bratty huff and turn to the side as you shrug again is all the answer he needs. he looks at you for about 5 seconds longer then sighs.

he sits down on your bed and keeps staring. katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things and one of those things is you ignoring him. a warm hand on your ankle startles you and you can’t even ask him what he’s doing before your being yanked towards him. you squeal, almost missing the smirk on his face or the huff of laughter at your reaction. almost though, so you glare at him. katsuki looms over you until your noses almost touch, then you turn away with a huff. he chuckles, pressing his lips to your neck.

“ yer such a baby, y’know that ?” he mumbles, smirking against you neck. you huff but make no effort to shrug him off “ no i’m not, jerk. is it so wrong for me to want my boyfriend to ask me to be his valentine’s ?” you grumble, trying to ignore the feel of his warm lips against your skin, it’s not working so well for you.

“s’not what i’m sayin, sweets” he nips at your earlobe “‘m sayin’ ya coulda just told me ‘stead of bein’ a baby about it.” you can’t tell if this is his way of trying to apologize. either way, you don’t want to give in just yet.

“i’m not supposed to tell you to ask me to be your valentine’s katsuki, that’s not the point~ !” you huff petulantly. you feel a but childish but, c’mon ! it’s a given to have your boyfriend as your valentine and it wouldn’t hurt your demon spawn of a boyfriend to be a little but romantic once in a while.

he playfully rolls his eyes at you “see, what’d i tell you? big baby.” leaning forward he nips at your nose making you groan and trying to push him away with your palm. katsuki being the powerhouse that he is, doesn’t budge. “ i didn’t think to ask ya cus you’re already mine. so why should i need to ask something that’s a given ?”

your heart beats faster at his words and katsuki takes his chance when he feels you loosing up more and more. suddenly he’s got your wrists in his grip, holding them above you and looking down at you with that sickeningly handsome smirk. you’re almost there, he can practically feel it.

“i—i’m..still mad at you” you stutter out weakly, your defenses are down.

“yeah ?” he taunts.

“yeah. apologize.”

he scoffs, rolling his eyes lightheartedly “why should i apologize ? you said my fuckin’ feet stink.”

“ ah, ah, ah.” you tut “don’t put words in my mouth, i said your feet were crusty.”

“yeah, thanks babe. that makes it so much better.” he sasses, you laugh “and i complimented you ! i said you were an amazing cook !”

“yeah but that ain’t a compliment, ‘ts a fact.” he says matter of factly, you’re eyes threaten to get stuck at the back of your skull with how hard you roll them and he snickers.

he dives in and steals a kiss, and then another one when you don’t stop him. when he pulls away to catch his breath, ready to steal another kiss you stop him by placing your hand on his chest. he looks down at you questioningly and you give him a raised brow in response. he groans.

“fine. m’sorry” he concedes quietly

“foooorrr ?” you urge.

he narrows his eyes at you as if saying “don’t push it” but swallows his words down “ for not askin’ you to be my valentine’s or whatever the fuck” he shoves his now hot face into your neck and mumbles “now quit bein’ all pissed at me.”

you’re happy enough with that, so you wrap your arms around his neck, one of your hands creeping up his nape and into his hair. he sighs contentedly, clearly enjoying the attention you’re giving him.

“thank you. i’m also sorry for saying you have crusty feet.” hearing him scoff at the accusation makes you giggle “and for putting you up for sale.” he hums, happy with your apology.

“..kinda.”

“oi.” he warns. you giggle in response continuing your ministrations in his hair.

“you still haven’t asked me so..” you trail off. he lifts his head up to look at you with a blond eyebrow raised.

“ does this valentine shit really matter that much to you ?” he asks.

you respond immediately “yes.” nodding aggressively to make your point.

he sighs, shaking his head. he looks at you, then looks off to the side in embarrassment, he can be so cute when he wants to be. steeling his nerves he looks you straight in the eyes. fearless with fierce red cheeks and all.

“b-be my valentine, idiot..”

[lady-ashfade]

Other skin: Yandere!Characters reaction to a female demon slayer landing on you.

Plot: They watch a woman fall on you and her…chest is in full view in front of your eyes, and she flirts with you.

Reader: imagined female but no pronouns.

Notes: I just thought of Tegan and his wives reactions and I got excited, I love jealous yanderes.

Characters: Tengen & Makio, Suma and Hinatsuru, Mitsuri Kanroji, Sanemi Shinazugawa.

Disclaimer: I have not read the manga so most of the reactions are based on the show and fics I have read. So please forgive the inaccuracy.

The place was filled with other demon slayers from all types, sizes and skills that varied from race or religion. It was unlike anything you had seen before and the couple related in that way, this was something special. The lovers watched you closely as soon as you came into view to keep you safe and sound, but let you explore for just a few before wanting to smother you.

So their eyes followed you as you greeted people or looked at the decorations around, even the food tables with happiness in your eyes. They were taking amongst themselves at how cute you looked with such a innocent sparkle in your eyes. But soon they watched you get tackled to the ground unexpectedly, not watching anything else but you so it slipped their sight. The couple rushed over quickly, Tengen was the first to get there.

You groaned at the impact you took and your head ached. Weight pressed on your chest and it made you open you eyes slowly with the pain still in your head. But unlike meeting a face you were meet with a woman’s cleavage in front of you at eye level. Your face heated up quickly and eyes getting wide, you snapped your head up to the woman’s eyes. “Oh? What a lovely expression.” Her lips curled in a smirk as she ran her tongue across the outline, her tone smug and confident.

“Don’t get embarrassed, makes me wanna eat you up.” Her hands pressed harder onto you and you only got more flustered. Her hips sat on yours and everything about what was happening was too much to process.

Suma was terrified at first of how you could have hurt yourself, then as she got closer she saw the woman onto of you. She teared up quickly at how she got to be on top of you, how she pressed into your skin. She cried for her to get off of you. Makio of course was scared of you getting hurt but she was more angry to yell at the person, knowing the others would check you first so she could handle the bitch. But, when she saw your eyes meet her chest…She was pulling out her weapons quickly, how dare the woman take advantage of you? Hinatsuru was of course just like suma, but over all just very scared for you. Had your head took a big hit or how was your back and body? She was in motherly mood. Just like the other girls she got jealous of the woman, her perfect baby must be so scared right now.

Tengen was pissed from the get go, how dare someone crash into somone as fragile as you? Being a harisha he had speed, so he got there first to witness what the woman said. His eyes twitched and he had to refrain himself from slicing the woman’s head off. His aura was filled with rage he looked like a monster. He noticed how she pressed her body closer to you, her hands on your chest, flirted with you and got you shy.

“Come one, tell me your name?” She took her hand off your chest and went to touch your face but her wrist was grabbed in a death grip. Both of you looked up to see tengen looking at her with a smile that sent shivers down your spine. “They are off limits to the likes of you.” He flashed a toothy grin and threw her hand to the side, next thing you knew was being picked up into the air and his arms around you. The woman landed on the ground with a annoyed, “And who are you?”

A gasped left your lips when you saw a fist hit her cheek and quickly took notice it was Makio who punched her. The two other woman pulled her back and screamed it was enough as she tried to go after her. The woman got up quickly and dusted herself off and walked off quickly, leaving all of you behind with a stomp in her step. “Leave it.” Tengen ordered and they stopped and obeyed his orders.

Suma came over and cried about how she was sorry the woman got to close. “She wasn’t even that pretty, how could she touch you like that?” She was so jealous. Makio crosses her arms and slightly yelled at you for looking at her, or how you didn’t try and get away from her. “She was a hag, how could you blush like that? Its pathetic.” She was still fuming at the thought of you looking at another woman. Hinatsuru checked you for bruises or cuts, any signs of harm she could have done to you. “Did she hurt you? What a horrible person, look at you. So shook up, don’t worry she’s gone.”

You couldn’t leave their side the rest of the night, no matter how you tried. It took so long to convince tengen to put you down. They hated not being there for you, it only pushed them closer to taking you away…

Mitsuri hated leaving you alone even for a second, the thought of someone else hurting you or something happening to you. She couldn’t handle the thought. But now she lost you in a crowded market place and she panicked at the lose of your hand in hers, that she forced you to hold, and had no sight of you. Her voice got lost in the sound of so many others, she pushed through the people and looked for you but kept getting pushed back.

This was supposed be a fun day were she could spend every second with you and she wouldn’t look suspicious. She could hold your hand, be close to you, keep you in her sight and blame it on the worry of losing you. But now she saw her mistake on taking you here, she shouldn’t take you on busy days or anywhere this big.

Making it passed the crowd she took a deep breath and searched around for you. When she saw your outfit and a woman on top of you she froze in place. Another woman touching you, sitting on your lap, getting to be so close. It made her see red. She saw you blush at the sight of her chest and wondered if you’d blush like that if it was her.

“Tell me your name cutie.” Her voice sounded so sensual and it only made it worse. Mitsuri was inches away now and glaring at the woman, wanting to tackle her to the ground and away from you. But she smiled like she aways does and appeared next to the woman’s face with a huge smile. “Mind getting off them? I’m sure they don’t appreciate it.” Her cheery tone and smile didn’t match her energy at all, and you knew her well to notice.

“And who are you? This one’s mine?” Mitsuri took a moment of staring at the woman to giggling, making you both confused. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear, I wasn’t asking.” The weight disappeared off your body as Mitsuri kicked the woman off of you and sent her rolling away. You stared in shook as her expression didn’t change from a sweet one. “This one will never belong to the likes of you.” She pulled you up and gripped ahold of your waist and pulled you close to her.

“I’ll make sure of that..”

He’s always dragging you away from others and doesn’t care what gender they are, if they aren’t him? Then they don’t deserve your time. So it’s hard to get a chance away from him since he doesn’t let you out of sight while he’s around. He sees you as something everyone should want, but you can’t fight them because you’re weak. (Even if you’re a demon slayer or a harisha, he doesn’t care)

He was coming back from a mission and waited for your presence and he looked around the butterfly mansion for you. He missed you in every way, to your smell to your smile and how you made him feel calm but so many other strong emotions. When he opened the door he found something that he couldn’t comprehend. He felt so many things that he stopped working for a minute.

A unknown woman straddling you and her chest in full view in front of your face, her body presses up against you. The look on your face was enough to show that you were embarrassed and flustered, how you tensed up. He is the one to get straight to the point and wouldn’t care who she was. She was coming off of you.

He walked over with the most calm expression and didn’t make a sound, only his footsteps could be heard. You noticed him first and got scarred at his expression. He didn’t say anything as he took a fist full of her hair and dragged her off of you, throwing her to the ground and standing in front of you.

“It’s considered disrespectful to touch something that doesn’t belong to you. They, are mine and I should kill you.” He laughed and got his grin, his fire coming back. “I’ll give you five seconds before you see why harishas are the highest rank.” She run out the door quickly and left without a peep. Then his attention was on you and you got a sick feeling in your stomach.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He kneeled and got close to your face, “Did she touch you worse then what I saw?” Stuttering you explain what had happened and how it was a accident but he didn’t truly by it. Or he believed your intentions but not hers.

“If I see something like that again you’re getting punished as well,” he took ahold of your chin and yanked you forward. “Understand? No one touches you but me.” You had no choice but to agree.

She was reported dead in a week.

[jesusatemysnatch]

“anything? that right?”

old!logan howlett x f!reader

summary: you end up in logan’s shop with an oil leak and can’t afford to pay him

wc: 2.3k (i’m in hell the brain rot is BAAAAD)

authors note: plot is very cliche like ik eat me. while writing this i took a break and got an edit of logan to tulsa jesus freak. yes i’ve lost my sanity. also i don’t know shit about shit with cars so yea

warnings/tags: MDNI. dubcon. unspecified age gap. logan is a little mean?? reader has no description besides hair long enough for logan to grab, wearing short skirt. logan grabs readers face. hair pulling. big dick logan (canon). pussy pronouns. spanking. throat fucking. degrading. tears. dirty talk. pet names. daddy kink. fingering. aggressive sex. unprotected sex (wrap it up). cream pie. orgasm denial.

your type doesn’t frequent this place, the auto shop on the edge of a town that’s seen better days. most of logan’s customers he’s had for years, he’d grown used to the faces that come through the shop, greeting people on a first name basis at this point in his career. like hell did he ever expect you. you, who stood behind him when he’s hunched down, working beneath the hood of a truck. he didn’t hear you coming, the radio on his workbench drowning out the sound of your footsteps. “shit,” he hissed, peeling back from the piece of shit he’d spent his afternoon working away at, white beater stained with oil and god knows what else. he paused abruptly when he finally noticed you, drawing in a slow breath. if he didn’t have enough on his plate, here you are. a pretty, young thing. in the thick of the summer you’re hardly dressed in much at all, a little top and a short skirt. “ain’t hear you come in,” the clear of his throat echoes off the walls as he walked towards his bench, wiping his hands with a greased up towel. “can i do for you?” his teeth clamp down on the toothpick stuck out his mouth, an oral fixation to try and keep his mind off smoking while on the job. it hardly worked for shit, nicotine always in the back of his mind. the radio gradually softens, pair of glasses pulled onto the bridge of his nose. “think i have an oil leak?” you sound unsure of it, logan nods, scribbling it down onto a forum he kept for his records. “bring ‘er in. take a look,” his boots thud quietly across the floor, walking past you to pull open the garage door. the wiring had gone out a couple months ago and he’s yet to get around to fixing it, muscles straining as he pulled the door up an over his head. he watched you pull your car in, sighing as you stepped back out. “well.. ain’t even have to look. engine sounds like shit, definitely a leak. i’ll pop underneath anyway, see f’somethin’s loose or if it’s a crack.” he nodded, wheeling his creeper out from beneath the bench with his foot. he tries not to groan as he sunk to the floor, his body too old for this shit. he pushes himself up underneath the car, brow knit in a tight furrow as he took a look around to access the problem. “oil pan has a crack, s’pretty fuckin’ bad. i can change it out for you, take me an hour.. hour an a half at most.” he nods, sat upright, an elbow propped against his bent knee. your expression flashes with annoyance and he thought to himself that you looked like a fucking brat, but god damn did you wear it so well. he fights back with the corner of his lips that threatens to tug up.

logan gathered up what he needed, not paying you any mind as you’re left with not much other choice but to sit and wait for him to finish on your car. dressed like this he figured you had better places to be, but he didn’t give a fuck. you came to him, and the way he saw it was your choices were limited to accepting the help and learning some patience or ruining your car. he’s good at the work he does, it’s why he has so many loyal customers, why he’s been in business so long. he could’ve given you some grief for the look you gave him when he told you about the wait- and he still might. “she’s good as new.” he nodded, sliding out from beneath the car with your cracked oil pan. his chest is slick with sweat, glistening under the dull lighting. he brushed his dirty hands against the thighs of his jeans as he stood, tossing your old cracked pan into the trash as he approached his work bench again, quickly jotting down the work that he’d done. “s’goin’ to be.. nine hundred fifty three. s’for the replacement, fresh oil and that god damn look you gave me earlier.” he nods, dropping the clipboard onto the desk. “take cash or card.” his arms cross over his broad torso, forehead creasing as his brow sunk in. “this is a joke, right?” you ask, scoffing out a laugh as you look up at him though his expression doesn’t let up, unamused. “do i look like m’makin’ a fuckin’ joke, sweetheart?” his jaw is clamped tight, his tone flat, serious. “you can’t charge me for a look?” “i can charge you whatever the hell i feel like. i had other shit goin’ on.. could’ve made you wait a hell of a lot longer.” you scoff out in disbelief at him, shaking your head. “i don’t have nine hundred dollars.” you finally admit and logan’s head dropped forward, a low chuckle coming from his lips. when you didn’t pull out a card he knew this shit was going happen. he saw right through you. “alright so.. let me get this straight, sweetheart. you came here for me to look at your car knowin’ you didn’t have the god damn money to pay for it? is that right?” he lacks sympathy for you, pretty as you were you had another thing coming if you thought you were going to pull a fast one on him. “i might be old, girl, but i ain’t no fuckin’ fool. i tell you what.. no money, no fuckin’ keys.” his voice is low, your keys dangled around his finger and he shoves them down into his pocket. he walks away from you, too god damn angry to be stood in front of you, having wasted enough time on you already. “please, you don’t understand.. i need my car. i can pay you what i have right now and bring you the rest next week, please.” you beg, coming up behind him where he’s hunched over again beneath the hood of someone else’s vehicle, the same one he’d been working on when you arrived. “ain’t my god damn problem.” he muttered, biceps flexing beneath his tanned skin as he tightened a bolt in place. “i’ll do anything.” you plea again and logan slowly stops what he’s doing, looking down at the truck battery he was working at. he sighed loudly, recomposing himself as he peeled back from the truck, walking towards the garage door. he reached up, muscles flexing across his back as he pulled the door shut, closing off the inside of his shop from the street view.

“anything? that right?” he’s standing before you now, looking down at your shorter frame. “anything.”* you repeat in a whisper. he drew in a slow, deep breath as your palm slid over the front of his dirty jeans, stepping closer into you until you’re tucked between him and the truck. he groans when your squeeze your palm around him through the denim, your lips curling up to a sinisterly sweet smile when you tug at his belt. he grabs your face hard, lips puffed out slightly when he pulled you in for a kiss. it’s sloppy, his tongue lapping across your lips before dipping into your mouth, an anger filled hunger. he’s pissed off, but you’re pretty enough that he’d be willing to accept your throat as some sort of payment. he looks down at you as you pull back from his kiss, sinking to your knees. he appreciates that you had no issue getting to the point. “i reckon you must’ve been thinkin’ about this the entire time, sweetheart.” logan mused as you grabbed his cock out from inside his jeans, moaning at the sight of him. “bet you ain’t ever seen a cock that big huh, girl?” the palm of his hand pets against the back of your head as you stroke him slowly, his shaft filling out your small palm. “hands behind your back.” he nods slowly, gathering your hair into his fist, holding the back of your head with a tight grasp. he taps the weight of his cock against your tongue before he lays his base flat against you, slowly pulling his hips back as your warm tongue licked over the veins that protrude from tightened foreskin. “nice an wide.” he mutters, feeding the head of his cock into your mouth, a grunt parting his lips when he brushed the back of your throat. god damn. “you’re goin’ to sit here and take it like a champ. reckon you ought’a think about havin’ my god damn money next time. stupid girl.” he warned you before his hips draw back and roll forward, pushing the length of his cock down the curve of your throat. it’s lewd, the repeated squelch of your throat as he pushes himself inside again and again. “should’a known you’d be this big of a slut when i saw you. cute little fuckin’ outfit, barely wearin’ anythin’ at all. just knew how to get an old man goin’.” he grunts, unbothered by the tears that have begun to roll over your cheeks. he’s selfish, using your throat to his advantage, balls slapping the underside of your chin. the cute outfit you’d turned up in ruined by your own slop of saliva as it dribbled out the corners of your mouth. “good fuckin’ girl. payin’ off every fuckin’ dollar.” his skin is slick with sweat, head lulling back against his shoulders, blinded by the dull white light above him. your throat is exactly what he needed at the end of a shitty week, and he had no shame in taking out his stress on you, sure you wouldn’t be forgetting him anytime soon.

when he finally lets up you choke out a cough, spit strung between his soaked cock and your mouth, breathing hard as you look up at him with watery eyes. still, you come chasing for more, hands sat on his denim clad thighs as you licked your tongue along his cock, gasping in a breath of air before you took him back into your throat, craving the feeling once more. “fuck’n hell.. look at you. must really need that god damn car, huh?” his fingers move into your hair again, yanking your mouth back off his cock so he could pull you up from the floor. “ain’t that right, princess? you’d do anythin’ for those keys back, huh?” “yes, daddy.” you choke out and what patience logan had left snaps, swiftly turning you around by the hold he has on your hair. he lifts the skirt up over the swell of your ass, palm of his hand roughly swatting against. you. once, twice, three times. your cheeks are stained red as your legs tremble, impatiently waiting for him to give you more. “let me see ‘er.” logan nods, bent over you and he pulled your panties to the side, spreading your cheeks so he had a perfect view of both holes, your pussy slick with your own arousal.

“you like gettin’ treated like a slut.” he acknowledged, spitting against his fingers before he brings them to your pussy, fingertips swirling your clit before he pressed two long fingers into your core, free hand wrapped around your throat. he stroked his fingers slowly at first but gained speed as your arousal coated him, making it easier for him to plunge his fingers into your tight hole, biceps flexing with each stroke of his fingers, feeling out the warmth of your walls, infatuated with the way your pussy sucks his fingers back in. he grins at the gasp you take in when he replaces his fingers with the head of his cock, pushing yourself up straighter as he sunk himself deep into your pussy. “daddy,” you softly grab at the hand he has around the middle of your throat, moaning as his chest presses up against your back. “you ever been stretched out this good before?” he asks beside your ear, breathing out a quiet laugh when you shake your head no. he grabs your face again, pulling your lips back to his when he fucks into you, hard strokes that press your hips against the grill of the truck, sure to leave you with bruises in days following. he swallows the moans you cry out, roughly driving his hips into yours. he’s unrelenting, giving himself to you hard the way you deserve it, the way you so evidently love it. it’s been a long god damn time since he had pussy this good, and fuck was he obsessed with yours, cursing himself for fixing the troubles your car had given you instead of giving you the run around to keep you coming back for more. hell, with the way you’re fucking yourself back onto his cock you just might anyway. “you’re going to make me cum, daddy,” you choke out, and he grabs at your hips, pulling him deeper into your sopping cunt. “that right? this ain’t even about you, princess. this was for me, remember? who says you’re allowed to cum?” he is brow furrows, getting a rise out of the way you while beneath him, small hands grabbing at the truck. “please, i know it’s not about me but please let me cum, daddy.” you whine, legs trembling beneath you, threatening to cave under your weight. he doesn’t respond, just fucking into your stretched core while you beg him to cum again and again. he ignored you until he spilled first, filling you with thick ropes of his cum, hips flush against yours so you take every drop deep inside. “you want to cum now, sweetheart?” he asked and you nod, rocking your hips back against him as your chase your own high.

needless to say, logan was more than willing to return your keys. and you.. well you might purposefully pop a tire soon.

[sakur4ii]

Rooted Connections Pt.2

Charles Xavier x Reader x Erik Lensherr

the gender of the reader is not specified

Note: I will not make a third part, I hope you like it. Also reminder that English is not my first language, let me know if there are any mistakes I didn't notice (especially with pronouns).

Summary: feelings come out, plants love romance and you are still as blind as in the first part.

Finally, peace.

After supposedly saving the future from great chaos, Charles decided to reopen the doors of his school, offering you to stay with him. You accepted because you didn't want to leave him alone, feeling his sadness through the earth. Although in reality, he wasn’t alone; he now had his students, but the connection the three of you had created was so strong that you feared that if you also left, he would break again.

Years have passed, and now the school is full, and you are a teacher.

You walk through the halls, searching for something, maybe someone, though you’re not sure. The mansion’s plants have warned you but haven’t specified anything, so you proceed cautiously, trying to find some intruder.

"Professor Y/N,” you hear, a voice you know well.

“What is it, Jean?” You turn around; you can’t see her clearly, but you can feel her nerves and hear her heart beating faster than usual.

“Someone is approaching from the backyard.”

Before she finishes speaking, you are already running to the backyard. The plants don’t want to reveal anything, and for some reason, you don’t feel any unusual presence, leading you to assume that the earth doesn’t want you to know who the intruder is on purpose.

Once your bare feet touch the green, damp grass, you stop feeling the presence of everyone at the school except for the person sitting on the grass a few feet away from you, and Charles, who is coming up behind you.

You take slow steps toward the seated person, hearing a gasp behind you. You sit down next to him and wait for Charles to come closer until he is on the other side of the man.

“What are you doing here, Erik?” Charles asks. You can feel his conflicting emotions through his voice. On one hand, he is happy to see him again and that it isn’t to stop him from killing all of humanity and condemning mutants. On the other hand, he’d love to punch him again for prioritizing revenge and abandoning him.

But you focus more on the absolute pain you feel from Erik through the earth. You can feel him mourning, yet also very angry, seeking comfort to avoid vengeance.

When Charles doesn’t receive any response, and you can assume he also starts to feel the man’s emotions, you wrap your arm around Erik’s shoulders, pulling him into a side hug, enough for him to start crying.

“I tried,” he sobs into your neck, while Charles sits on the ground, leaving the chair aside and firmly holding Erik’s hand between his own. “I tried to live like them, to blend in, and they… they killed my wife and daughter.”

You don’t know what to say; you don’t know how to comfort him with words, so you just rub his back. You know Charles is afraid of saying something wrong, something that will only make the situation worse, so both of you remain silent, comforting your old friend (and the third missing piece of the puzzle) through gentle touches.

“I didn’t know where else to go… you’re all I have left.”

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

You weren’t born blind; you had the privilege of seeing the color of the sky and vegetation. You had the privilege of having a favorite color, but an accident occurred, and it was no longer worth thinking about things like a favorite book or a favorite flower because you couldn’t see anything anymore.

Plants are very talkative; they always have been. They love to gossip, and they love drama. The day before the accident, they were very hysterical, sensing something bad was coming, but they couldn’t say what.

Then the accident happened, and you were hospitalized. The plants felt guilty, apologizing over and over, even the plants you didn’t know but who knew you, apologizing and feeling ashamed that they hadn’t been useful, that they couldn’t prevent the tragedy.

It was when you lost your sight that your powers began to manifest: control of the earth, the ability to feel through it. Your mentors were the plants, the trees, and the earth itself. You learned that you could see through the roots of trees, and that was an easy way to find something or someone.

When you met Charles, even before the man arrived at your house, the plants were more talkative than usual. They told you everything they knew, like how Logan was from the future and needed help, your help. But they mostly talked about Professor X and a puzzle. You couldn’t understand them, but their excitement amused you.

When they freed Erik from that cell, the plants began talking non-stop again, once more about a supposed puzzle and Erik’s entire life, about how angry they were with some of his actions but how much they appreciated him.

The first time they fell completely silent was when Erik shot Raven; the second was when Erik fled to avoid being captured.

The third time you didn’t understand the silence; you were listening to Charles reading to his younger students, and out of nowhere, the plants fell silent, a mourning silence.

And the fourth time was the day after the third when Erik appeared unannounced at the school. Although it was more for drama—did I mention they are dramatic?

Erik stayed at the school, purposely obtaining the room that was between yours and Charles’.

If before the plants always talked about Charles, Erik, and his family and the children at school, now, whenever you entered your room, they only talked about Charles and Erik. You only heard about the children if you went outside.

A couple of years have passed. Erik is visibly better, happier, and that makes you happy because it’s real, he’s not pretending, and you’re the first to know that.

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

Your room is a madhouse; you feel like you’re losing your sanity. They won’t stop talking about how handsome, intelligent, and kind Charles is, or how hot, serious, and cunning Erik is. They have the audacity to tease you for not being able to see them, those bitches. When did they go from remorse to mockery?

“What time is it?” you ask, tired, sitting on the edge of your bed while putting on your sunglasses. They all ignore you, except for some jasmine flowers Charles gave you for your birthday along with some heart-shaped sunglasses.

You leave the room, grateful for the silence the hallway plants give you. You don’t know what to do; maybe you’ll go to the kitchen and eat some ice cream, you’re not sure.

When you arrive at the kitchen and take out a tub of ice cream and a spoon, you’re surprised that no plant has told you not to eat something so cold in the middle of the night, raising your suspicions.

You focus on the earth, sensing how all the children and adults are sleeping, everyone except Xavier and Lensherr, which makes you sigh tiredly.

Lately, the plants not only wouldn’t stop talking about them, but they also did everything possible to ensure you spent most of your time in the same room with them, and you only complied because deep down, you wanted that too.

You finish the ice cream and walk through the halls to Charles’ office, without any obstacles in the way (the children make sure not to leave anything lying around that might hinder you, even though they know you could easily avoid it; they fear you might get distracted and have an accident).

—“Come in”— you hear in your head, making you jump in place, and some nearby flowers laugh.

You open the door, and for some reason, they’re both sitting on a three-seater couch. Charles’ wheelchair is set aside to not get in the way, and the plants laugh conspiratorially.

«Speak of the devil…» a flower murmurs, sparking your curiosity.

“Can’t sleep?” Xavier asks. You shake your head. The other man is silent; you know he’s watching you, his intense gaze on you. Sometimes you think he has the power to read souls and keeps it a secret.

Charles laughs at your thought, but you don’t notice him elbowing Erik to stop being so obvious.

“Come sit with us, darling.”

The flowers and plants in the room react as if the pet name was directed at them, as if expressing what you don’t dare express even in your own head for fear the telepath might discover your feelings.

Smiling, you approach the couch. Erik, the closest to you, takes your hand and guides you to sit between them.

“What were you talking about?” you ask.

“Nothing important; we were just planning to take the older kids on a field trip, maybe,” Charles responds, and you know he’s not lying, but from the booing of the plants, you can tell that wasn’t what they were discussing before you arrived.

Erik remains silent; you can’t figure out why. Lately, you can’t sense his feelings, only his emotions, and you can guess that the earth is hiding them on purpose—or maybe the metal?

What you do sense is his knee brushing against yours and his gaze trying not to linger on you for too long.

You tilt your head to one side, sharpening your hearing, trying to pick up something more; you don’t know what, but you want to hear all their movements and, above all, the beating of their hearts.

Just when you perfectly hear their rapid heartbeats, the plants start making a ruckus, making you frown.

“What’s wrong?” Erik finally speaks.

“Why don’t the plants want me to hear your heartbeats?”

Unbeknownst to you, Erik and Charles share a wide-eyed look of complicity.

—“We should tell her”— Erik.

—“Now?”— Charles.

The silence between the two men creates a lump in your throat. Since that day on the plane, you felt like you were missing something in the dynamic, all because you couldn’t see. You felt out of place in moments like these, where they might be communicating with just a glance—or worse, telepathically. You hated the thought that they were having secret conversations, thinking that they were using the fact that you couldn't see to communicate in secret. And you hated knowing they were communicating because you could feel the change in emotions through the ground, but what you hated even more was that now you couldn't even feel the emotions of the two men because nature decided to turn its back on you this time.

Tired, you get up from the couch.

"Sorry for interrupting your time alone, I'm going to bed."

You avoid the obstacles you can't feel now but know are there.

"Y/N, no, wait! It's not what you think, let me explain," Charles says, while Erik gets up and runs towards you, grabbing you so you won't escape (and without you knowing, preventing you from bumping into the closed door).

"Listen to them, listen to them, listen to them," the plants chant in unison as you squirm in his grip. The earth allows you to see through your feet again, finally letting you feel the emotions of the two men, which makes you stop struggling and fall into shock at what you're sensing.

"You two are in love," you whisper.

Erik leads you back to the couch and sits you down so that you're facing the telepath, while he hugs you from behind and hides his face in the crook of your neck. He's embarrassed.

Charles gently removes your sunglasses, and you can feel his emotions not just through the ground but also inside your head. He takes your hand in his.

"We’ve been debating whether or not to tell you; we didn't know how you'd react, darling."

"So much secrecy just to tell me you two are dating? I'm not homophobic if that's what you were worried about," you say with an amused smile.

You're sure both men are rolling their eyes.

«Don't be an idiot» a flower says.

"Shush."

Charles laughs while Erik raises an eyebrow in a questioning manner towards him, knowing he's missing something.

"We're not just dating, Y/N. We love you as much as we love each other, and we want you to be a part of what we have because you're the missing piece of the puzzle," says Charles.

"And we want you to be officially ours," adds Erik.

Their words take you by surprise, making your heart race a thousand miles an hour. You're sure you're blushing, and loose words echo in your head.

The missing piece of the puzzle... ha... that sounds familiar.

At some point during the evening, you moved to Erik's room (the one furthest from the other rooms, with only one flower that you gave him a long time ago), where you shared kisses, hugs, words, and feelings. Where you expressed the great love you share, making grand plans for the future. And where you realized that you never were out of place; rather, you had always been missing, so they could feel complete.

The End.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

@djlnkaled @kindlover @only-nope @larissa1379 👋❤️

[unboundprompts]

I would really love some jealousy-fighting-turned-to-intense-kissing-love confession prompts 🫶

Jealous Fight Turned Love Confession

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

They stood inches apart, breathing hard, each word sharper than the last. “Why do you care so much who I’m with?” she demanded, her voice breaking despite her best effort to sound defiant. He clenched his jaw, looking anywhere but at her, but his fists trembled at his sides. “Because I can’t stand it,” he finally admitted, the words tearing out of him. She froze, shocked, her lips parted in surprise. In that heartbeat of silence, he looked up, his eyes blazing with all the things he’d tried to hide, and before either of them could think, he pulled her close, his lips crashing onto hers with a desperate intensity that left no room for doubt.

The argument was heated, his words dripping with jealousy as he accused her of being oblivious, of caring too much for others, of ignoring how he felt. She scoffed, rolling her eyes, but her voice cracked. “You think I don’t see? You think I don’t feel the same way?” She tried to push past him, but he grabbed her wrist, spinning her back toward him, their faces inches apart. Their breaths mingled, their anger still simmering, but he could see the flicker of longing in her gaze, the vulnerability she’d been hiding. With a growl, he closed the distance, capturing her lips with a fierceness that held years of repressed feelings, both of them melting into the intensity of the moment.

They were arguing so fiercely that they didn’t notice how close they’d moved, the frustration between them giving way to something else. “So you don’t care who I’m with, is that it?” he challenged, his voice thick with jealousy. Her lips quivered, torn between defiance and the truth she could no longer ignore. Before she could think, she grabbed his collar, yanking him down to her, their lips meeting in a kiss so fierce and raw that all their words disappeared, replaced by the electric charge between them. For a moment, everything they’d left unsaid found its way into that kiss, sealing a confession they could no longer deny.

The tension between them was unbearable, his eyes dark with barely-contained jealousy as he accused her of leading him on, of letting others get too close. She pushed him back, defiant, her voice trembling. “If you’d told me how you felt, maybe I wouldn’t have!” He stared at her, stunned, but in the next second, he was kissing her, his hands burying in her hair as though afraid she might slip away. Her resistance melted, her own hands clutching his shoulders, pulling him closer, their confessions mingling in the fierce press of their lips, each kiss saying everything words couldn’t.

Their voices echoed down the empty hallway, each accusation laced with jealousy and frustration. “Why does it even matter to you?” she shouted, but her heart pounded, daring him to give the answer she was so afraid to hope for. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, his eyes narrowing as he closed the distance. “Because I don’t want to see you with anyone else,” he ground out, and without waiting for her response, he captured her lips, his hands cupping her face as though this was the only way he could make her understand. She gasped against his mouth, her hands slipping around his neck as she kissed him back, each touch a promise neither of them could ignore anymore.

[cameronspecial]

how about we go a lil angsty? the reader hadn’t yet told him about her being pregnant bcs she remembers Drew once said he doesnt know if he wants to be a dad and so she tried to bring the topic up with hypothetical questions and his answers not exactly the thing she wanted to hear so she went all silent and pulled herself away and stuff.

I dont wanna give it away, so please you decide the ending..either they communicate and Dad!Rafe rise or…

I Want This

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Abortions and Miscommunication

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Well… She doesn’t know what she expected the results to be, but this is definitely an answer. Y/N doesn’t even think she can focus on the opinion she has of this situation because all she can think about is Drew’s.

———

“Awww, Babe, look at this pic of Lils that Mac sent me,” he gushed, holding his phone up to his fiancée. She looked up from her laptop, “So cute. Ugh, I miss them so much. I mean look at those little baby rolls. I just want to cuddle the cutie.” He smiled and brought her head under the crook of his neck. “I know. We have to visit them soon. I’m so glad I have a niece. It means I can be the fun uncle forever and never have to be a dad,” he mindlessly thought out loud, going back to scrolling on his phone. This caused her to freeze; they never talked about having kids, but he was so good with them that she assumed he would want them. She should’ve asked him about it because she wanted them. She didn’t though. Kids were important to her and so was Drew. She wasn’t ready to cause a rift in their relationship because of something small. 

———

Staring at the positive pregnancy test, she has to figure out a way to gauge how he would feel about it before actually telling him the truth. Once she knows how he feels, it will help her decide how she wants to feel about it seeing that if they are on the opposite page, then she would have to make a difficult decision. She shoves the positive tests into the box and hides them in her makeup drawer. He never goes looking there. She exits the bathroom, lets out a deep breath, and heads to the kitchen to start getting lunch ready. Drew is coming home from filming in Morocco later today. The music blasting through the speakers makes her unaware of the new presence in the house. He smiles at the dancing silhouette cutting potatoes. His hand drops over her eyes and she sets the knife down with a grin. Her arms wrap around her neck to bring him down towards her. This allows her to pepper his face with kisses. “Hey, you weren’t supposed to be back until tonight,” she notices, turning the music off. His hand rests on her hip, “I was, but I was offered an early flight and I couldn’t say no to seeing my girl early. I missed you and I love you.” She sinks into his hold. “I missed and love you too.”

The couple spend the next half an hour cooking together before settling themselves at the dining room table. Since they talked to each other throughout cooking, silence falls over them. A chime comes from his phone and he checks it to see a text from his sister. “Mac is planning on coming down with Lils and my mom soon. They can stay in the guest room, right?” Drew confirms, reading over the text again. She nods, “Yeah, I’ll get it ready over the weekend and buy one of those travelling crib things for Lils. It is going to be fun to have a baby around the house. The guest room would make a nice baby room in the future. It has nice big windows and the closet is the perfect size.” The chuckle that comes out of his mouth drops her stomach into a furnace. 

“What’s so funny?” she questions. He shrugs, “Not the babysitting part. They could both use a break and I will never say no to spending time with my niece. It’s just the thought of having to turn the guest room into a baby room is funny.” 

“Oh, why?”

“I don’t know. It’s a guest room. I mean where would our family stay when they come over?” 

“Yeah, where would they stay?”

She should probably ask if he meant he can’t imagine the room as a baby room right now or if it was a forever thought; however, she is scared of the answer she is going to get so she shuts down the conversation. They sit in a new tension-filled silence that he pretends he can’t feel. 

———

After lunch, Y/N retreats to the backyard to swing in the hammock. This tells him that she needs some space and he knows she is upset when she is still outside at eleven p.m. The friction of the patio door sliding against each other makes her turn to him. She doesn’t acknowledge his presence, waiting for him to say something. He places the plate of pasta he made for dinner onto the side table beside the hammock. “I found the pregnancy tests,” he states, bringing one of the patio chairs close to her. She freezes and sits up. Her legs swing over the fabric to face him, “How?” “Maddie helped me pick out clay pot Moroccan lipstick for you and I wanted to surprise you with it. I was going to hide it in your drawer…” he explains, eyes falling to his fingers and trailing off at the end. Her head moves up and down. Her thoughts are moving around her head a thousand miles a second. He is going to break up with her. He is going to make her have an abortion. Or worse. He is going to make her choose between the baby or him on the spot. 

He grows nervous when she doesn’t say anything and his suspicions are confirmed. He understands why she is unsure about talking to him about this. The way he has spoken about having a baby in the past could’ve given her the wrong idea. He hesitantly reaches to place a hand on hers and does it when she doesn’t shy away. “I want you to know that the decision about what we do with the baby is up to you and I will be at your side during the whole process,” he assures. Her confusion causes tears to crop up in her eyes, “You don’t want the baby though. I know that, so if you are going to break up with me because I do, then just do it. But making me have to choose is kinda cruel.” His heart squeezes, hating that his words aren’t coming out as he means them to be. His head shakes like crazy and he sits beside her. He brings her head against his chest, “Babe, I don’t want to break up with you. I want to have this baby with you too.”

“You want the baby? Then how come you don’t think the guest room would be a good baby room?”

“Because my office would be a better one. The windows aren’t too big so it won’t wake the baby up in the morning and the closet there is even bigger, so when they get older they can have as many clothes as their heart desires.”

“Okay, you are right… What about when you said you want to be an uncle forever and never be a dad?”

“Honestly, I never really thought I would want to be a dad. I was content with being an uncle, but, Babe, when I found that pregnancy test, all I could think about was how happy I was to be bringing a child into the world with the most amazing woman in the world and I couldn’t wait to raise them with you.”

She leans back and rests a warm palm on his cheeks, trying to hold back her tears. “So you want to have this baby?” she verifies. He kisses the tears away, “I want this, Babe. I promise. We are going to do this. Together.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

[the-thing-withfeathers]

exceeded caution part 2

first time for everything

series masterlist | next part

a/n: heyy y’all!! so this is part 2 of exceeded caution. a lot of it follows the actual movie because i needed set-up for ghostface. there’s still a lot of interaction between the reader + sam & tara but some of it is from the first 30 minutes of scream vi essentially.

warnings: violence (gun usage, knife usage), cursing. he/him pronouns for ghostface. 5.8k words.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

a few days ago, sam was nowhere near the forefront of your mind. you had stayed with the group as they navigated their way through accepting that ghostface might be back.

you hadn't spoken to tara much, you felt like you wouldn't be any help to her. she didn't need her ex-girlfriend that she only dated out of convenience around her constantly.

instead, the other carpenter sister started to find solace in your presence.

you found yourself over quite a bit, you noticed that they valued strength in numbers. you even all set a rotation between the group for who would cook that week.

during your week to cook, sam insisted on joining you when grocery shopping. as you promised her that she wouldn't be alone, she mentally promised you the same thing.

"it's just a simple beef stroganoff recipe, sam. you really don't have to come." you smiled sheepishly as you pulled up outside her apartment, she was hopping into your passenger seat.

"ghostface won't let a grocery store stop him from taking lives." sam was firm in her words, you sighed in defeat and drove off towards the shops that were only a couple minutes away from her place. you wanted her to feel safe still.

she pushed the cart while you took ingredients off the shelves, mumbling to yourself as you chucked them in the cart.

"tara used to say your food was amazing. where did you learn to cook?" she asked you, you looked away from your list to smile at her.

"my mom, she's amazing at cooking. she gave up her career to support my dad and become a fulltime housewife." you explained. "i used to help her cook all the time."

"that's pretty cool. i find myself never having the time for new foods. i should probably get on that."

"i can teach you some. or make some for you, i like cooking for people." you shrugged, taking another ingredient off the shelves.

sam would normally decline if you were anyone else, but she felt the urge to accept.

"sure. that would be nice." she nodded at you.

sam had enjoyed you being around more often and getting to know you outside of tara. she even found herself calling you a friend.

or rather, she tried to keep it at friend. she was trying to hide the fact that she felt a pull to you, she didn't know how to explain it. although, one thing was sure, there was an element of guilt to it.

she wasn’t the only one feeling guilty. you felt almost dirty with how much you thought of sam. because of the frequency of your contact, you found yourself wanting to see her more.

was this against some form of girl code that you shouldn’t want to hang out with your ex’s sister?

“um… how are you?” she could see that you were nervous to ask her that. “i know you probably get asked that all the time but i never ask… and i want to know.”

“that’s fine. i figured you would get curious. you always seem to be.” sam commented.

“is curiosity bad?” you teased a little, noting her phrasing.

“no! not at all.” she perked up, shaking her head.

“don’t worry sam, i’m joking.” you realised that the carpenter sisters weren’t used to bantering with someone they weren’t extremely close to— or someone they didn’t love.

“right.” she bit her lip. “but no? it’s not bad at all.” she chuckled. “but i’m… not okay?”

you nodded, respecting her answer and silently thanking her for being honest.

“i hoped that we would escape this when we moved. and i’ve been doing everything to protect tara but it didn’t end for sidney prescott— so i assume that it won’t end for us.” she scratched her brow, the stress getting to her. “i’m sorry you got involved.”

“it’s okay, sam. i knew what i was getting into when i dated tara.” you nodded. “if it happened again, i already knew i’d stick around.”

“that’s admirable.”

you felt your heart clench a little when she said that. nobody had ever told you that your desire to stick around was admirable. you always got “clingy” or “overbearing.” that was the first time you’d ever gotten a compliment on it.

“oh! um… thank you.” you stuttered out, a blush flooding your cheeks. you knew that sam meant it too, she wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better. she was genuinely saying it.

“it’s true.” it was.

you tried to push your flustered down into the depths of your mind as you struggled to reach the top shelf with the last of your ingredients. you were definitely taller than tara— everyone was. but not tall enough to face this eight layered shelf.

sam was.

sam was taller. and she made that perfectly clear when she basically pressed up behind you to grab this damn dijon mustard for you.

oh no… oh no… you had to stop those thoughts. you had turned around too quickly, basically coming chest to chest with the girl. she didn’t seem to mind— and you refused to mind.

you had never been this close to her before. your eyes trailed over all her features, taking them in. she looked just like tara… maybe that’s whats got your heart beating at the speed of light.

but she wasn’t tara. no, she was sam. and you found that to be what sealed the deal for you.

you found her pretty.

you remained silent as you finished off the last of the ingredient collection. you walked over to the self check-out, scanning the items as the blush continued to make its presence known as sam hovered.

you shuffled some things around in your pocket to try and find your card but before you knew it, sam was paying for your groceries.

“what—“ you tried to protest but the transaction had gone through already.

sam didn’t know what overcame her.

it was her way of taking care of you.

it was even her way of apologising to you.

"sam, you didn't have to do that." you shook your head at her.

"my treat, i didn't get to cook for everyone so this is my way of contributing." she shook you off. you knew that was a lie because mindy sent you a photo of meals you missed, one being sam's.

there was no undoing it now. you sighed and reached for the bags, but sam was one step ahead of you, grabbing them and walking out of the store.

you wished you could wash the blush off with soap.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when you arrived for dinner with your groceries. everyone was already at the carpenter’s apartment. they were spread out across the entire floor, conversing with each other.

you got to cooking almost immediately, knowing that everyone had potentially been there for a while. sam left your side to talk to quinn.

you kept feeling eyes on you.

the shorter carpenter sister was talking to mindy when she felt her attention turn away from her and onto you. she watched you cook, she actually always loved your cooking.

she loved when you would make a dinner catered just to her. she actually missed how lively the kitchen used to be when you were in it. you were even dancing around now, your headphones tucked over your ear.

she smiled a little at how you shook your waist to the music. everyone knew not to bother you so you could get it done quicker.

but tara wanted to bother you. she wanted to approach you and say something, anything to break the silence.

you were friends before everything went down. she thought that maybe she could at least salvage that, that would be her way to redemption.

mindy kept talking and talking before cutting herself off suddenly, realising that tara was no longer paying attention.

“tara, don’t.” mindy said, disappointment clear in her tone. “this is something you need to give time to.”

“there’s been a lot of time.” tara muttered, glaring at mindy.

“you can’t just break her heart and expect her to let you back in so quickly.” mindy held her shoulder back.

“i know it won’t be quick, but i have to try.” tara said through her teeth, pulling her shoulder out of mindy’s grasp and starting to make her way towards you.

tara stopped on her heels when she saw her sister already take your attention. she thought that she’d better not interrupt you.

“whatcha listening to?” sam asked you, her arms crossed over her chest.

you pulled your headphones back a little.

“sloppy jane.” you said.

“sloppy jane? what kind of name is that?!” sam laughed.

“she’s cool! i promise!” you raised your hands up in defense. you took your headphones off your head, you gently placed them on sam. your hands nicking strands of her long hair before you pulled them away.

she held eye contact with her as her head bobbed to the music, you matched the bobbing, knowing which part of the song she was on.

a smile formed on her face while you two were in sync. your eyes started to crinkle up with a smile as your hair started getting in your face when you headbanged. she joined you until the kitchen was filled with laughter.

“okay… okay. i see it now. she has a good sound.” sam agreed with you, placing the headphones back on you but leaving an ear open.

“thank you.” you chuckled, moving the beef strips into the bowl you intended to serve it in.

“this smells soooo good.” sam practically moaned out, you laughed at the noise she made.

“well, you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else!” you teased.

she groaned and rolled her eyes. you liked seeing her loosen up a bit more, you were grateful she was getting more comfortable around you.

as you two laughed, tara stared on.

she remembered when she was in sam’s place. she even felt herself grow jealous at her sister. why did she ever think that what she was doing to you was okay? your heart was gold and tara thought she had turned it dark— she realised your golden heart’s integrity never faltered. you were still just as good.

she was cruel and she broke your heart. she didn’t think she would regret it— until she suddenly felt all that guilt wash over her. was she regretting it?

you enlisted sam to help you bring all your dishes to the table.

“beef stroganoff, pasta, and rice. choose your carb to go with it and enjoy!” you presented your meal to the group.

everyone admired your work and sat down at the table. you ended up sitting beside mindy who talked your ear off about some pottery class that she and anika took.

you glanced over at sam first, her eyes meeting yours during her conversation with ethan. you two exchanged heartfelt smiles, you had a good day because of each other.

then you looked at tara, who was already looking at you. her first serving was practically gone. you knew that she loved one thing about you, and it was your cooking. she held a sadness behind those eyes, you saw into it, but you had your doubts that it was sadness.

when you noticed her plate, you felt yourself flash her a smile too. she returned it, it was shy but still genuine. her plate was cleaned up just seconds after everyone served themselves.

crumbs of you, tara would take. she cherished that smile you gave to her, even if it was forced or accidental. it filled her brain.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

washing up had to be done, you wanted do it yourself, saying how you were on a roll from cooking that you wanted to do the cleaning too.

sam was about to speak up but suddenly, tara found her voice.

“i’ll help!” she said, chirping up. everyone looked at her with confusion. they didn’t expect that she would do that for you.

“oh… okay!” you said, making your way over to the kitchen.

you scrubbed the plates and handed them to her to dry. it was a good system that worked.

“you did well with dinner today. your cooking is always good.” tara smiled at you.

“thank you, tara. i appreciate it.” your lips pressed into a thin line.

“i just wanted to say that.” she put the plates onto the drying rack. “we haven’t spoken in a while.”

“i know. i just wanted to give you space. i felt like i wasn’t much help to you ever. and i felt like i wouldn’t be much help now.” you confessed. “but i want to stick around, i would be a pretty shit person if i didn’t.”

she felt horrible that you thought that you wouldn’t be help. in fact, there were some nights that tara found herself longing for you.

“we were friends before this, do you think we’d be able to get back to that?” she asked, searching your face for hope. but all she saw was doubt.

“maybe, tara.” you turned to her, handing her the last of the dishes. you saw the dejected look on her face and sighed. you wanted to go back to that too, you missed the tara that was a good friend to you. “but we can try.”

tara’s face lit up, a bit of shock also hidden between the lines. “okay! yeah… let’s try.” she put the dish away and held her hand out, you chuckled but you shook it.

what you failed to see was your maybe friend’s sister staring at you both from the living room, her jaw tightened as tara touched you.

sam zoned back into the conversation, realising that the show they were watching was long gone and replaced by the news again.

there was another death.

sam erupted in her anger, suddenly storming into the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife that she owned.

you had no idea what just happened, tara followed her sister back to the living room, the commotion having everyone sit up.

“sam! slow down!” tara yelled after her sister, you joined them after putting the dishes away. “can we please think about this before you decide to abandon my college education?!”

you couldn’t blame sam for wanting to leave. this was something that she just wanted to escape. as much as you would be upset, you would understand. you’d help, even.

you would help them pack up if it meant they were away from everything. you were prepared to never speak of the carpenter sisters again, in hopes that they would never have to go through this again.

“this can’t just be a coincidence, tara!” sam yelled back at her. today was the day where you saw the genetic stubbornness displayed by the carpenter sisters.

“quinn, can you please call your dad?!” tara asked their roommate, quinn immediately nodded. you could tell she didn’t want to get yelled at by sam but it was a reasonable point of action.

ring!!!

everyone flinched. you didn’t. it was just a phone ringing to you, but to everyone else, it was so much more.

sam’s phone blared on the table, she walked over only to see that it was gale weathers, she declined the call without a doubt.

you watched as quinn travelled across the room, telling sam that her father wanted to speak to her. you heard the muffled voice of mr. bailey from where you were standing.

“okay, thank you. i’ll be right there.” sam hung up. “he wants me down at the station.”

“i’ll drive you.” you said, grabbing your keys. “i live close to the station.”

“you shouldn’t have to—“ you cut sam off.

“no. i will. no man left behind, remember?” you said, firm in your decision. sam sighed but nodded.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you, sam, and tara made it out the door and started to walk to your car.

suddenly, sam’s phone rang again. the two girls stopped when they saw the name displayed on the screen.

richie kirsch.

richie? you recognized that name. you huddled closer to the sisters, closing your eyes to rack your memory for where you knew that name.

no. wait.

it couldn’t be. he was dead, wasn’t he?

“don’t pick that up.” tara said, looking up at sam.

sam hesitated, but it could be important. these calls were life or death for them. she picked up.

you looked at your surroundings. you suddenly felt so exposed, like anything could happen to you now that you weren’t in the comforts of your own home— or anyone’s home.

“who is this?” sam asked into the phone. you couldn’t hear the responses, only sam’s facial expressions changing as time went on.

her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes changed. you saw woodsboro glaze her pupils, you knew she was thinking back to her life before the city. everything was resurfacing.

“i want you to think long and hard about whether or not you wanna do this because the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead.” she said, planting her feet down with determination.

your eyes started to tear away from sam, not absorbing the conversation.

bad gut feeling.

you had to stop ignoring those.

“you better watch your back, asshole.” sam said.

and tara yelled.

a cloaked figure sporting a ghostface mask suddenly grabbed tara, you sprung into action. tara elbowed the figure and you shoved him into the bike rack.

“go!” you said, running just behind the two sisters.

“there!” sam redirected you into a little corner store. you stood with your front to the door while the girls yelled at the cashier to help them, starting a fight with someone in line.

suddenly ghostface walked in.

you backed up into sam, pushing her backwards a little bit while one of the customers stood tall in front of the infamous killer.

you watched as ghostface drove their knife into the man, multiple times.

you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth. you had never seen anyone get killed before. you thought ghostface had specific targets, this wasn’t just an ordinary killer, this killer wasn’t afraid to take any life that stood in his way.

you turned around and the three of you flooded into the back of the store as the clerk wielded his gun.

when the first gunshot rang, sam’s arm flew to cover you as chips flew everywhere. tara was crouched just beside the two of you.

suddenly, there was a second gunshot. but only after you heard the clerk start begging for his life.

you tried to stay quiet, you didn’t realise where parts of your body were. you had a hand on sam’s abdomen, bunching her shirt into your fist. you were terrified, you had never gone through this before. you couldn’t imagine what sam & tara were feeling.

you couldn’t move— or else he would know where you were.

the corner store was quiet, it was like a cruel game of cat and mouse. you heard crunching as the sound of boots got closer to you.

all three of you rounded the corner to avoid detection. sam hid behind a freezer while you and tara hid behind the shelving. you saw sam’s eyes flicker to a can on the ground and you knew what she was trying to say.

carefully, you reached out and picked the can off the floor. it was disgusting and sticky. was this what they had to result to when defending themselves? putting themselves in disgusting situations? you felt twisted picturing them going through this once— now twice.

you threw the can across the corner store, hearing boots walk in the other direction. it was a successful distraction. the three of you started crawling towards the exit.

when you heard the boots stop moving again, you paused. sam leaned forward, you could tell that she could see a lot clearer than you. she slowly inched towards the shelving, then she suddenly shoved it with her shoulder, knocking it down.

god, she was strong.

had she been training herself to get stronger? in case this happened again?

the three of you hauled ass to the exit, being met with cop cars and their sirens.

the three of you were escorted into the cars. the sisters rode in one while you went in the other. you fidgeted with your fingers. then it was daunting on you.

baby’s first ghostface attack.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you sat in an interrogation room at the precinct. the walls were closing in on you.

you had been close to death before. you remember when you and your parents got into that gnarly car accident that had you coming out with several broken bones and whiplash. you cradled your arm, feeling the after-effects of the worst injury you sustained.

but this wasn't a car t-boning yours. this was a killer.

and you felt like death was kissing your cheek.

you didn't know where sam and tara were, you assumed a different interrogation room. you were waiting for ages, you thought that maybe someone was attending to them first.

you sat in silence for about ten more minutes, trying to decompress the situation.

the lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing detective bailey. you had met quinn's dad in passing, never really speaking to him.

"mr. bailey. how are you?" you asked him, sitting up in your chair. you noticed he had files in his hand. this was going to take longer than you wanted.

"i'm good. thank you... how are you doing? you weren't around for woodsboro, i'm sure it's a bit of a shock to be involved now." straight into it.

"a bit is an understatement, sir." you let out a dry chuckle. "i'm assuming you're going to be asking me more than just 'how are you' though..."

"i'm sorry. i know you're probably tired." he sighed, you nodded. you were trying to hold back a yawn.

"it's fine."

he sat down across from you, opening the file and putting its contents in front of you.

"you're the newest addition to the group, quinn has talked about you. i know you and tara had a past relationship. were you frequently in and out of their apartment?" he asked.

"yeah... tara and i were together for a bit. i usually visited her and i also hang out with mindy and chad, so yes, i was frequently at theirs." you nodded, you often found that honesty was the best policy with these things.

"i know that your relationship with her ended badly." he stated, you scoffed.

"surely a bad break-up isn't enough motivation to go on these killing sprees, right?" you asked, a bit offended.

"sometimes it might just be."

"did you have access to sam carpenter's belongings?" he followed up. what did sam's stuff have to do with this?

"um... no. not really. i never really interacted with sam until ghostface was rumored to resurface. and even then, i don't really have that access." you crossed your arms across your chest, your eyes scanning the photos on the desk. you spotted a photo of sam's license, bloodied and dumped at the scene of the crime.

someone was trying to frame her.

"we found sam's license next to the body."

"well she was with me all day. we went grocery shopping and i cooked everyone dinner." you quickly jumped at the chance to defend her. "tara was there too."

mr. bailey nodded at you confirming their alibi.

"sam said the same thing." he reassured you. he leaned in a bit closer to you. "although, i'd be cautious about those sisters. especially sam. i wouldn't get too close."

your brows furrowed in frustration.

"i'm sure i have nothing to worry about. they're good people." you didn't want to speak any further on the matter.

you hated that the thought of either of them being responsible for these deaths even crossed the detective's mind. he was supposed to be helping them.

two knocks against the door turned the detective's attention to another officer walking into the room.

"the fbi is here." the officer said. detective bailey looked confused.

"the fbi? where?" he stood up then turned to you. "you're free to go. i think sam and tara are waiting for you."

you stood from your seat and followed him, making your way over to the two dark-haired sisters. tara was the first to spot you, nudging sam until she turned around.

you sped up, you didn't know what it was. you just had to make sure she was real.

you wrapped your arms around sam. you felt her tense up out of shock but return the gesture.

"i'm sorry." you apologised for the sudden hug.

"it's okay." sam smiled warmly.

you turned to tara and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly.

tara's eyes met yours. those pleading doe eyes, they wanted more than just a squeeze on the shoulder. she wished she was sam in that moment.

"i'm really glad you two are okay." you cleared your throat. sam smiled at you, even if it was forced, it was nice to see.

you heard two voices chatting just a little bit aways from you. sam started moving towards them, you and tara followed behind.

"kirby?" she spoke, getting the attention of a blonde woman.

"hey sam." kirby replied, moving to hug sam as well.

"do you know each other?" bailey asked.

"yeah... we went to woodsboro high together. she was a senior when i was a freshman." sam clarified. you studied the woman in front of you.

all you could say was that she looked cool. she was an fbi agent that had been monitoring the sisters for a little while. you realised that this had been the kirby involved with the killings too. they shared a very unique experience between each other.

you stayed behind sam while they conversed. kirby was handed the mask that was left at the scene. the mask used in the 2011 killings. kirby lifted her shirt to show the scar that charlie walker gave her.

sam looked uncomfortable. she realised then that this was bigger than just a killing spree, they were trying to send a message.

kirby proposed you all worked together but sam interjected, not giving her the chance to finish.

"we're getting out of town." she pushed through kirby and detective bailey.

"i'm sorry, that's not possible. you're both persons of interest. all three of you are." bailey warned.

"are you serious?" tara stepped forward, the growing frustration evident in her voice.

"he's right." kirby confirmed. "but if we work together-"

"we're going." sam basically barked an order at you and tara.

"my car's back at your place." you said. sam nodded. a small part of her brain was happy that you would be around after that.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when the three of you made your way out of the precinct, you had never seen so many cameras before. reporters swarmed the three of you, immediately asking sam questions like if she had an alibi or if tara felt safe with her sister.

they didn't pay you any mind, how could they? you were fresh meat to the group, they didn't care about your story. luckily, it allowed you to mercilessly shove them back, helping make space for sam and tara to walk through the flood.

you found yourself holding onto sam's waist, pulling her towards the open spots you've created with your body pushing against the reporters.

"gale weathers." a voice sounded out in the crowd, causing the sisters to stop in their tracks. you knew that name too, it felt like an endless revision on who was who, if you had studied well enough. "do you ladies think that you're the reason that the ghostface killer has come to the big apple?" she asked.

you saw it in sam. she snapped. she'd had a long night, she nearly lost her life. she nearly lost her sister. and her... friend.

she swung with her fist out.

"sam!" you exclaimed as gale ducked, avoiding the punch. you pulled sam's waist back, you knew she didn't need another video of her going viral. she put her hands over yours, allowing you to hold her back. you had to admit, it felt nice knowing you had a bit of pull on her.

although, you failed to account for the shorter carpenter sister. you failed to catch her pulling her elbow back and swinging at gale with a force of her own.

you jumped at the noise made by the contact and had to hold back a laugh at gale's shocked face. sam cracked a smile, she couldn't help herself.

"stay away from us." tara spat at gale.

you two turned to walk towards a cab that was parked outside the station. you pushed sam slightly by her waist, hoping she wouldn't turn back around.

but gale weathers just had to say something.

"are you two seriously still mad about what happened?"

"you wrote a book. about them." she didn't expect you to say anything. she didn't know who you were or what you were to the carpenters. she looked at you as if you were irrelevant, like another body that ghostface could dispose of just to raise the numbers.

"and who are you?" she asked, a snark in her voice.

"doesn't matter. you took advantage of them. of the fact that they lost their friends, they nearly lost each other." you shook your head. "i remember you, from tara's stories."

tara watched you fight back. how could you still do that after she hurt you? you were full of surprises. she had never seen your tongue so laced with venom before.

"you lost someone too. dewey... if someone kept shoving that down your throat, how would you feel?" you asked, glaring her way as sam and tara entered the cab. gale's stance shifted, she was uncomfortable with a stranger knowing so much information about her personal life. but then again, she put the carpenter sisters' life out there for the whole world to see.

"i remember your book too. you called sam unstable, you painted her in the worst light possible. and i thought you had been through enough with her to know that that's not true." you turned back to the two girls, opening the door to the back of the cab for them.

sam's face was unreadable as she hopped into the car. she stared at the back of your head, or more like the back of your seat. you stood up for her, breaking your kind and golden-hearted demeanour. she was worried that being in this situation would change you for the worst.

you sat in silence after telling the driver where to go. leaning back into your seat, you tried to keep your eyes open. you hadn't gotten any sleep since last night, your time divided between the carpenter residence and the station.

there was so little to say and yet so many words were jumbled in your brain.

when you arrived at the carpenter's apartment, you yawned as you exited the cab. sam caught you do so and stopped you before you could unlock your car. her hand covered yours, gripping it in her own.

"you should rest here for a little bit. you're too tired to drive." she said, looking down at you. you wanted to get home and sleep in your own bed but you knew she was right.

you put your car keys away and walked upstairs with them.

tara immediately made a beeline for the bathroom. she always showered after coming home, she couldn't go a day without smelling like vanilla.

sam put pillows and blankets down on their couch and walked into her room, coming back out with some clothes.

"you can change into these for now, you might as well make yourself comfortable. and you can sleep for as long as you want." she said, you took the clothes and nodded at her.

she sat down on the couch and pulled the blanket up slightly to cover herself, you grabbed the blanket to stop her.

"what are you doing? i'll take the couch." you said, furrowing your brows.

"no. you'll take my bed." she looked up at you from the couch.

"it's your damn bed, sam." you didn't mean to sound so ill-mannered but the tiredness was getting the best of you.

"i know. so i'll do with it as i please." you know it was just her trying to show that she cared. "so you're taking it."

you sighed sharply, you were about to take a massive risk.

"share it with me." you said, holding your ground. you didn't want to kick sam out of her own bed.

she saw the determination on your face. you two were going to sit here and bicker if she didn't give in now. she nodded, standing up and making her way back to her room.

you changed into sam's clothes, her scent wafting as the shirt fell over your figure. then you cracked the door open enough to slip yourself into her room.

just as you entered sam's room, tara came out of the bathroom. she had the look of a shattered woman on her face, you should have been going into her room. she should have offered first.

you shut the door behind you, walking towards the bed where sam was sitting. you spotted her nursing her hand, spotting a deep cut from crawling on glass at the bodega.

"sam, you should've gotten that taken care of." you scolded her a little, walking to her bathroom and grabbing a medkit you knew was there. tara had told you that she put one in every bathroom.

you knelt in front of sam, unpacking the kit to grab the antiseptic and a bandage.

"it's fine, it's only a cut." she protested.

"if ghostface doesn't get you, an infected cut will. and i think that's extremely embarrassing." you tried to make light of it, your exhaustion washing over you. "this'll hurt."

you dabbed the antiseptic into sam's cut. she hissed at the sting. but the sight in front of her was better. you, in her clothes, patching her up. this was probably the worst time for her to form a crush, and probably the worst person to form it on. her sister's ex-girlfriend, who was now involved in the ghostface killings. but your soft features, your concern for her, it was hard to resist you.

she chalked it up to exhaustion, maybe this crush would fade away when she was in her right mind.

but when you situated yourself next to her in bed, your respectful nature forcing you to leave ample space so you two weren't touching each other, she hoped that she would one day earn the honour of closing that gap.

as she closed her eyes, she listened in to your soft breathing. and even when you accidentally ended up shoulder to shoulder in bed,

sam refused to move.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

author's journal okay i actually spent way too much time on this chapter, i had to write out the first 30 minutes of scream vi with a reader insert so it was a little bit more cohesive with the storyline. i don't know how i feel about this one chapter in particular but i'm starting to see the vision for the rest of the series teehee. i promise it wont just be the whole movie written down but it'll definitely have canon events. next chapter is most likely going to be non-canon as much as possible just cause this is a romance fic at the end of the day.

also this is the song i intended for the reader to be listening to with sam