#the glasses? the cigarette? yeah just fuck me already

[liquidloz]

Top 10 Fuckable Michael Keaton characters:

No. 4 James Angleton in ‘The Company’

[screampied]

JAILBREAK. — SUGURU GETO. ☆

synopsis. you hate your job as a part time correctional officer. things change once you have to “babysit” one of the dangerous criminals of the a-block floor, suguru geto. but girl, maybe sleeping with an egotistical cocky ass inmate might have been your biggest mistake yet.

wc. 5.5k

warnings. modern au, fem!reader, pwp, inmate geto, corruption kink, degradation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, geto has a tongue piercing, hair pulling, praise, overstim, reader’s kinda delulu

an. thank uuu @osaemu for beta readin someee!! inmate geto is my new hyperfixation omge

it was as if each shift became longer and longer, your daily occupation, nothing special, nothing fancy, just a correctional officer at some high maintenance prison near the city.

the stench of musk and sweat wafted around you, such a reoccurrence that it was practically normal. it was around midnight, as how most of your shifts were, and as you trod towards the secluded darkened space for only the inmates dangerous to themselves and others, you intake a breath before swiping your key near your hip, preparing to unlock the glass-like metal steel door.

“oh,” you close the door behind you, and that familiar deep voice does something to you.

what…?

you don’t know, but it had such bass in it, you turned to face the inmate, no one other than suguru geto. “…yo,” he mocks, giving you a sly head nod, his eyes scan up and down your body, your uniform and then your own meets his pursed lips. somehow, he managed to find a cigarette. again. “hmpf. they got the newbie watchin' me again? you do know that gun on your hip isn’t a toy, right?”

your eyebrows twitch, and your facial expressions formed into a deadpan as you walked towards him with his daily meal in hand. “yeah and i’m not afraid to use it on you if necessary.”

“ooh. rookie’s got jokes, that’s cute.” he grins.

you murmured, and he only smiles, he knows you didn’t mean that, he pissed you off, even if he wasn’t saying anything exactly. pulling out your staff notepad checklist of where you usually kept track of all the inmates attendance and meals, you uttered, “but anyways…” you blowed, “no one fed you today, suguru. you must be starving.”

“yeah, 'm starvin’ ‘n more ways than you can imagine, princess,” geto hums, and you suddenly freeze once the inmate stands up firm and tall. he’s just so damn big—broad wide shoulders, long slight shaggy dark toned hair, and with a split-second gaze, you look near geto’s orange jumpsuit. the bulge, yeah you spotted that immediately, but his tattoos…

his fucking tattoos.

“can you at least try to behave for a few minutes.” you sighed, and he's already getting on your last nerve. he could tell too…and damn was he was just getting nothing but pure amusement from your sheer irritation.

“eh, depends,” he speaks in a low gruff, his attention was on you and only you, raising his darkened thin arched brows before his lips converge into a witty smirk. “ya gonna feed me my food, babe? oh, you should know. poor inmate like me can’t feed myself when i’m all,” and he pauses while speaking, placing his hands in his lap — giving his wrists a slight shimmy and you hear the metal dance against his skin. “…handcuffed.”

it took everything within you to not smack this arrogant suave bastard, geto flirted with you whatever chance he got, with no shame either. you’re a pretty girl, well mannered, yet never took anyone’s shit, he liked that about you.

your job wasn’t to be taken lightly, it could be considered scary at times with the various inmates you have to deal on a day to day basis, but simply, you were just a girl with an attitude. but he wasn’t fond of brats, especially brats like you.

“…fine,” you mumbled, making your way towards him. he sat on the steel uncomfortable bed that was as usual, never made. geto practically lived in solitary confinement, they don’t call him the suguru geto for a reason. his name was known amongst many, he was feared worldwide. geto wasn’t exactly a good guy, far from it actually.

he’s a criminal and his record was… definitely spine chilling to say the least. “don’t try anything, just open your mouth.”

“hm, alright then.” he happily complies, his demeanor changes just a bit, and he’s more playful. geto opens his mouth just slightly and you spot tiny dimples form near the corners of his lips, and you gradually stick the spoon into his mouth, feeding him whatever food was made for the inmates of the night.

baked mash potatoes, geto stated it was one of his favorites and you just so happened to remember. a smile forms on his lips as you feed him. your eyes darted towards him, and now he’s just staring intimately at you.

that smirk that forever rested against his pink thinly parted lips.

“m-mhm.” he grunts, and your eyes widen just a bit, he was messing with you, and you don’t even realize geto’s got his hand gripped on your waist. stroking a thumb against your belt, you felt the feeling of him rubbing all against the firearm that was strapped tightly on you.

before you could smack his hand, geto swiftly brings you on top of his lap, stealing out a gasp from you at how quick he was with his movements. the silver spoon sticks out his mouth before you take it out, only to return him with an irritated glare.

“what do you think you’re doing?” you uttered, growing quite embarrassed yet trying to maintain a level-head.

“told ya,” he grumbles, swiping a tongue against the excess mash potatoes that remained near his lips. “i’m hungry, babe. that was good, but i’m not satisfied. i need more.”

“inmates in solitary confinement aren’t allowed to have seco—”

“pretty girl, you know what i’m talkin’ about,” geto chuckles, and you shiver a bit from feeling the soft pads of his thumb brush against the belt of your waist again. you were in uniform but this entire position was so dirty. not to mention, it’s not like this place of the prison was exactly secluded. it was, but there was bound to be people were walking by. “i’ve been seein’ the way you stare at me.”

he was just infuriating, but you didn’t know how to reply so…you didn’t. you just sat there on the inmate’s lap, with a quite dumb expression and he’s just eating it up. “geto—”

“it’s just you ‘n me, girl,” he slyly whispers, and his voice drops just a bit as he stops you from speaking. his touch against your waist just gave you more and more goosebumps. all the way up until you felt it. geto infamous boner that hid beneath his jumpsuit. he’s been incarcerated for at least three years now, in and out. he was for sure horny. you could just tell from his seductive gaze. “don’t gotta be shy. was waiting for you to show up if ‘m being honest. you’re not like the rest, y’know?”

that’s when you gasp, realizing his handcuffs were off — he must have took the key from your pocket, because he was just feeling you up now. you let off a surprised noise once you felt geto starting to make you grind against his lap, feeling his hefty bulge.

“sugu-” you mumbled, and he’s just staring at you with a sly grin pressing onto his lips, only before he leans directly up close to your neck, giving a part near your collarbone a soft deep suck.

you whine from feeling the near sharp edges of his teeth lightly dig into your skin, playfully.

“mhm, pretty thing like you isn’t fit to be workin’ here. cutesy little prison guard,” he sung, his warm breath wafts against your skin, “crushin’ on your inmates is real unprofessional, ya know. you could get fired.”

he was right, you could get fired. and perhaps he wasn’t lying about the second part too—you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t find suguru geto the slightest bit of attractive. because he was, he and you both knew it.

“don’t be stupid. i’m not crushing on you,” you denied, yet embarrassingly enough, your eyes widen at feeling geto air your words — his thick stubby fingers, two of them specifically runs down between your legs and you gasp again. “are you…crazy? there could be cameras in here.”

“so.”

“so? you’re trying to get me fired?” you raised your eyebrows, sitting up from his lap, and he’s playing with you entirely. stroking a rough scarred hand down your back. if it was any other inmate, you’d barely give them a second glance.

geto gives you direct eye contact, and he looks so handsome and lean back, but his messy long black strands of bangs nearly covers his eyes, making him appear to be ten times more feared.

“maybe,” then he chuckles. “it’s okay, if it makes ya feel any better. i fantasized about you at least once or twice while being secluded from the other inmates in this hellhole. i prefer you over the other annoying officers who’re always givin’ me shit.”

you were about to speak but suddenly you couldn’t—you realized how close you were to geto, propped up on his lap, propped up on his bulge. were you really throbbing right now? oh you definitely were.

pulsing, itching, aching.

“soooo, when was the last time you got laid?”

this guy.

“excuse me?” you stammer, entirely being taken aback. such smug fell off his tone, he cocked his head a certain way to let you know he was being genuine. in his own way, of course.

geto’s always been one to flirt with you whenever it was your shift to supervise him. his comments were always so bold. he’d purposely pitch his tone a bit low whenever he spoke to you, no one else. perhaps it was the incarcerated felon crushing on you.

“you heard me,” he mutters, giving you a sly glance. he ghosts a few fingers against your waist. you still don’t know why you’re happily sitting on his lap, but you were comfortable to say the least. “with your long hours i pretty much figure you don’t even have time to finger yourself, let alone get laid. poor baby.”

“…just shut up.” you chastised, his soothing warm words, the way he delivered those last two words as a form of mockery. it made you throb, you pinched yourself, feeling yourself grow out to be hot. 

“make me, girl.” he faked a pout on his lips, almost as if his speech was purposely dumbing you down, solely from the tone. geto teasingly cocks his head towards the right and a teeny smile stretched against his lips. 

and you did. 

he was just poking fun at you—you loathed it, the tension between you and geto, his expressions were relaxed and smug like you won’t do anything. 

so, what did you do? 

you silenced him…with a kiss. 

he’s taken aback, you’re taken aback, you don’t know what came over you but you just couldn’t stand him talking. 

his sly grin, you desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. geto leans back against his bunk. his breath gets caught in his throat with the way you initiated the lustful kiss, parting your mouth open just a bit. 

you can feel geto reaching for the firearm near your hip but with quick reflexes you smack his hand, and he chuckles, pulling you closer towards him. 

he tasted sweet, with a tang of spice. leaning his head forward, he felt your warm breath shudder against him which makes him let off a low grunt once he feels you start to rock against his lap.

geto didn’t expect for you to trail a finger down his jumpsuit. the soft nearly wrinkled fabric, unbuttoning it and he shudders at how you’re all frisky and bold. 

“easy now officer,” he whispers before pulling away, lips pink and glistening with a bit of spit. his voice was a mere rasp and it made you throb. “when i said make me, that’s not what i meant,” and then he smiles, tugging on your work pants. “but you’re something else. take off those pants, i’ve been meaning to show you something.”

geto wanted to show you his tongue, specifically his tongue piercing. not necessarily show you but make you feel it. 

when you kissed him, you felt it tickle against you. the tasteless titanium rubbing against your tongue. it left you all hot and bothered. 

he had you currently laid flat on your back, an entire needy mess, despite it only being a few minutes. how embarrassing…

it was just the way he curled his tongue, flicking it against your pussy, he’s sloppy. two big hands squeeze and grip against your inner thighs, long strands prickling against your legs as he swirled his tongue against your slit. 

“f-fuck,” you’d gasp out, tilting your neck down to stare at geto. he’s already returning your eyes with a coltish glance, puckering his lips briefly to create kissed everywhere between your legs. your hands rummaged through his long silk hair. giving it a firm tug, that earns a low grunt from geto that makes you pulse even more. “tickles, suguru.”

“does it?” he purrs in a cheeky tone, slowly flicking his tongue against your clit—you jounce, a gasp gets caught in your throat at the way the piercing shifts against your folds. the slight coldness of it makes your thighs ache for more “mhm. can’t get enough.”

you pant, tugging and gripping roughly on his hair, geto’s nose deep, his tongue was so greedy. it was just the way he grazed and moved his tongue against your labia. your two sweet flaps, you grew more whiny by the second. 

“s-suguru,” you’d squeak, biting down on your lip. you knew how wrong this was, so why did it turn you on even more? “think…think ‘m getting close.”

“yeah yeah, keep your legs open.” he cuts you off, and you stare down at him. he’s so nasty with his tongue, taking a brief second to spit right on your cunt, dragging a thumb between your slit. “do you get wet like this for all your other inmates?”

you stared down at him, feeling yourself grow more and more aroused by the second—your response was just giving him a subtle head shake. “no, just you.”

“just me?” he repeats, lowering his voice and it’s so attractive. “maybe you really are crushin’ on me.”

“shut up..” you hissed. your breathing started to become more and more erratic, your ears rang and you pulsed from how close you were starting to approach towards your orgasm. 

geto’s entire chin was polished with your sweet slick—covered in nothing but all of it. such a messy eater, each time you tug on his long strands of hair. his husky pitched groans continued to make you pulse.

his piercing slowly lapped against your cunt, and you gasped at the feeling of him inserting a finger inside slowly. 

“ooh, ‘s close isn’t it?” he teases, peppering kisses near your thighs now, nibbling on it playfully with his teeth. “you gonna make a mess for me? slutty prison guard?” 

“y-yes.” you squirmed, your hands idly dragging him closer against your pussy. he chuckles, his technique snatching your breath away quite literally. “suguru… gonna come. wanna cum.”

he lays his tongue flat, lapping and lapping against your clit, giving it a long sweet suck to where his mouth starts watering from the taste and you moan. “ask nicer. where’s your manners huh?”

“p-please,” you whined, growing frustrated, so pent up—your walls clenched around the two fingers he now had buried deep into your cunt. you whimper from the mere stimulation, the way he toys with your g-spot with his lengthy slender fingers had you throbbing pathetically. “let me cum please, s-suguru.”

“oh but i don’t know,” the inmate teases, using his free hand to pry open your thighs a bit more. the cute pout that spread across your lips at his words was so adorable, “aw poor baby,” he hums, playfully blowing against your pussy to watch you writhe in pleasure and utter desperation. “you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”

“suguru, please, please..” you whimpered, not even caring how you sounded. your sweet voice reverberated against the walls of the secluded kept room, own words coiling at your throat. 

he smiles. “how about this,” and for a terse moment…he stares right at you. with his tongue going over his lips, savoring your taste. “i let you cum, you promise to get me out of here.”

….

help him break out? 

all this so you could orgasm….

you swallowed, chest heaving and your legs felt nearly nonexistent. geto looked serious though, brushing a thumb against your sloppy clit. he awaited your answer and you were deep in pondering thought.

you’d for sure get fired, then again you did hate your job. 

the fact that you were even contemplating letting an inmate break out just to cum. you just wanted a release so bad, the way his tongue lapped against your pussy, the smooth texture of it flicking back and forth to where your toes curl. you wanted more, and maybe it was a bit concerning that you started to not even care about your profession anymore. 

“promise..”

“oh..?” he slyly remarks, for sure you were gonna at least deny or call him crazy, but a straight answer. he was amused—and the needy look on his face was all he needed to see. “hm, it’s a deal then. go ahead ‘n cum, pretty girl.”

your back arched in ecstasy, he’s holding onto your hips departing his fingers from inside you, and just his tongue’s doing the main finish. you shuddered as you felt yourself vibrate and twitch. the build up had you clenching around nothing but air. “f-fuck…” 

scorching, your body radiated and carried so much heat around it, your eyes started to roll and roll towards the very depths of your head. once you came, you slump back against the rickety mattress, one hand still firmly maintaining its grip on geto’s hair. 

“there there, ‘s okay,” he slyly purrs, making sure to clean you with his tongue. for a split second his eyes close, and geto brings a few kisses against your folds before sitting up to stare down at you. “c’mere.”

you sit up, giving geto a cute needful glance, you craved more and he knew that. you leaned in to kiss him, and he returns it with such filthy passion. geto’s handsy, his slick-smeared lips ghost against yours before he deepens it. a groan gets caught in his throat, and you whine once you feel him lay you down on your back.

he leans up against you and eagerly, you give the orange fabric pants of his jumpsuit a cute tug, a sign for him to take it off. 

“such an impatient little thing,” he murmurs right into your mouth. you whined, wanting him to keep kissing you but he keeps breaking away purposely, watching your lips quiver in desire. “how bad do you want me?”

“s-suguru.” you pouted, your hand finding its way towards his bulge. the strain in his pants, all because of you. 

“don’t ‘suguru’ me,” he rasps in a mocking tone, his body pressed against yours. and only then did you realize the size difference, how buff and well toned geto was. he was an inmate after all, he always had a consistent workout schedule. geto’s dark eyes stare into yours before he brushes a thumb against your glossed lips. “talk to me nice in that pretty voice of yours. you want me? say it then.”

the disappointed pout you had displayed on your lips remained there as you spoke, only to hear how whiney and desperate you were. 

“i want you suguru, please.” you sigh. 

“girl…you’re so unprofessional,” he snickers, a swift snicker leaves from his lips before you hear him shuffle in his suit. pulling down his matched set pants, he tugs near the edge and it goes down. “feel how hard you make me, officer.”

and you let out a soft gasp. 

geto lightly grabs you by the neck, and you let off a needy moan once he starts to rub your face against his boxers. the very imprint of his bulge. “all your fault. got me throbbin’ for you...”

“suguru,” you whined, a small pout spreading on your lips each second he continued to tease you. “suguru, s-stop teasing me.”

“just jokin’,” you plop down on your chest, the moment he lightly shoves you forward against the plush-cushioned bed frame. it creaked from the movements, quite rickety. “oh wow,” he utters in a low voice — quickly averting his eyes towards your work pants, briefly pulling them down to come full-view of your ass. “do correctional officers just…not wear panties or…?”

you let off a moan, feeling him skim a few fingers against your ass, holding back a noise once he presses the leaky fat tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance. 

“i…i forgot.” you whined, mouth watering — you wanted more than anything for him to be inside already. “i was rushing.”

“uh huh,” geto rolls his eyes, and you stared directly at him. the plump fat head of his swiped against your wet folds, a few taps and you were about to go crazy. “ooh. look at you trying to rush me.” 

he was such a tease, you could hear the playfulness in his tone. as geto hovered over you, he took a few moments before slowly easing his way inside you. 

his jaw clenches, and it’s sexy…

the way his muscles would tense all because of you. you were panting, legs just dumbly sprawled out. maybe it was unprofessional, participating in sexual activities with an inmate—yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. all the built up tension surrounding between the two of you. perhaps it was bound to happen. 

“fuck, ‘s warm..” he grunts, and he’s just barely halfway in. you chewed near the inside of your lip, nails clawing down his buff arms and he starts to pant himself. geto was huge. emphasis on huge. 

his happy trail was mesmerizing to look at, the way he had slightly black curly hair coating near the lower half of himself. it was well trimmed, yet much visible to see. the more he gently makes his way inside your cunt, you felt every mean inch. the curve geto had—it was hefty, you felt yourself starting to drool. 

a single vein throbbed, and you felt it. geto bites his tongue marginally. and once he’s fully in, he gives you a coy expression. 

“may i move, officer?” he snickers. 

“p-please.” you whimpered. 

“okay.” he hums, and the bass to his voice was just enough to get you wet. far wetter than you already were. such smoothness dripped from it, it was a deep pitch that always made your heart flutter and sink. 

once he starts up just a single thrust, your body jolts back and you gasp—finding your arms to suddenly grab onto him. 

geto chuckles. “dramatic thing, aren’t you.” you moaned, nails continuing to drag down how skin as you’re laid flat against your back. the angle was so deep and thorough, each hit against your pussy had your kind spasming. in an entire frenzy of you will. 

he leans in to pepper kisses all over your face, strands of his hair that was out tickled against your skin. by this point, he’s buried deep. your head goes back a bit and…oh, that same curve that he had, it continuously made an appearance. 

geto was buried between your legs, hefty sack just thwacking against you. your legs were perfectly bent, shoulder width apart. “f-fuck,” you’d stammer, suddenly clamping all around him. it took a few deep vigorous thrusts, but at this point he’s got your pussy memorizing his lengths size. geto spreads his knees for a more thorough base, his movements were so sloppy you could barely think straight. let alone process anything. “suguru, ‘s right there.”

“right there what?” he teases, leaning in to nibble near the bottom of your lip. the thin fabric of his jumpsuit brushes against your skin—you were just a mess. pulse after pulse, you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was short circuiting. “i can’t hear ya when you mumble, baby.”

“fucking-” you spat, and he chuckles once you’re cut off with a deep kiss. geto vary’s his stance against you, and slides his tongue all throughout your mouth. it’s a rough and passionate kiss—so much so to where, he has you catching his breath. once you pull away, you moan, being brought back to reality from his ruthless smacks he’s making with his dick. “keep…keep hitting me there.”

he hums, giving your bottom lip a slow playful bite again, still ramming his hips against you at such a filthy pace. “is that an order?”

he was so annoying, that two second glance he’d give you—a smirk pressing against his lips, he definitely knew how to get under your skin. “please,” you corrected yourself, nails still running down his back. it pierced against his skin, earning a low husky grunt from him. “keep hitting me in that s-spot, suguru.”

“since ya asked so nicely,” he purrs, sneaking another kiss. this time near the very corner of your mouth. the taste was just glacé, sweet and all. simply divine.

you moaned into his mouth, and as his body weight pressed against yours — you shivered. he’s such a tease, geto starts to lightly ghost your cell keys against your bare tummy. your back arched immediately, the coldness of it just grazing against your skin. “you’re so sensitive.”

his soft, teasing words rang throughout your ears, and as you clung onto him—you felt yourself coming closer and closer. he gripped onto your legs, slightly raising them upward and you moan from the deep deep angled. “o-oh my god.” 

geto’s shallow mean strokes had your eyes rolling all the way back….way back to the very depths of your skull. if you weren’t drooling then, you certainly were now.

the moment he sees you pouting from how he cockily starts to slow down—geto pushes a bit more deeper, grinning from your legs now locking around his waist. 

moments later though, you both freeze at hearing the sound of footsteps approaching near the solitary steel door. 

right when you about to orgasm, you both stare at each other — and it’s another officer. you could tell by the loud echo of the keys dangling against their hips. 

“officer, you alright? been in there a while. we’re finishing up roll call then it’s time for the inmates to sleep.”

shit. 

you couldn’t stay quiet, that’d be suspicious, and you knew you had to say something. geto chuckles, still buried balls deep inside of you, leaning in to give your neck a long suck. your hands ran through his hair and you bit your lip, trying to muster up what to say. 

“your subordinate’s talking to you,” geto teases, and you gasp from how he suddenly pistons his hips, such sloppy ruthless thrusts your breath was merely taken away. “don’t be a rude girl.”

“s-shut up,” you whined, putting a hand in his face and he playfully kisses it. you stop a moan from escaping your lips before you project your voice lightly. “uh, yeah. everything’s good. inmate suguru geto’s asleep. i’m just—just finishing up then i’ll take care of his dishes.”

“alright,” the lower rank replies, and your legs start to shake and jostle against geto. he’s staring at you, just wanting for you to slip up. a few awkward seconds pass before the officer continues to speak. “are we still on for tonight?”

you gulped, and geto raises his brows before whispering into your neck. “…oh, tonight, yeah?”

by all means, you felt so embarrassed, heat rises up to your cheeks as if your entire body wasn’t already burning up from his weight pressing down against you.

you ended up cumming mid-convo, and had to cover your mouth to not be so noisy. you clenched all around geto, just a twitching and spasming mess. 

“y-yeah, we are.”

“good, good,” he speaks through the other end of the closed steel door. poor officer, he sounds so ecstatic, a bit of confidence running through his tone. “i’ll see you then, pumpkin.”

geto blurted out laughing and you had to slap a hand against his mouth. the moment the coast is clear and he walks away, you glare and he simpers. 

“pumpkin,” he repeats, mimicking your co-workers accent. “i didn’t know you had plans. have me looking like a fool, hmpf.”

“my private life isn’t your busin—” and you get cut off once geto abruptly sits you upright, to where you’re just straddling him. you moan, your cunt still being stuffed full of his thick inches — and for a moment, you felt his vein prod against you. 

geto groans, seeing how your pupils were all dilated from your recent release. “yeahhh, it isn’t,” he says, grabbing ahold of your waist. you’re rocking back and forth and he’s so thick that you’re just completely cockdrunk and dizzy. “but ‘m having too much fun with you.”

you gasp once you feel the back of geto’s hand roughly smack your ass again, and again, and again. he loves the recoil — you hiss from the sting as your hips roll and maneuver against his lap. “you’re such a dirty girl. i don’t want you to go on that date. stay with me.”

“y-you can’t be serious.” you muttered, arms thrown over his neck. and for a brief moment, it was almost as if you heard a faint of jealously lingering on his tone. it made you throb, this high and mighty notorious inmate feeling this way…for a nobody like you. 

“dead serious, baby,” he utters, and you can sense geto’s close too from the way his jaw tightens. his head tilts back and he bites down on his lip. “that way i won’t be less lonely. talking to the wall ‘n everything.”

oh right, he was in solitary confinement. purposely secluded from the other guards and inmates. geto was considered a danger, yet here you were — stupidly bouncing on his dick. 

“but ‘m not so lonely now that you’re here,” he coos against your ear, and you whimper once he drags a hand down between your legs. he gives your pussy a few mean spanks and you whimpered. “fuck, keep moaning in my ear like that ‘n i’m gonna give you so much of my cum.”

“i need it.” you pleaded, tears swelling up in your eyes, you genuinely didn’t know what got over you — your body was so achy, each time he traced his fingers down your body, you whined. you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be filled. 

geto groans, and his hefty base kept smacking back against you, your hips jerked as you tightly held onto him, marking up the very inner part of his neck with soft bite marks. 

“f-fine,” he grumbles, and his voice gets a bit high, he’s growing out to be sensitive from the pressure building up. he even gets a tad bit whiney himself. the constant skin smacking makes him kiss his teeth, and his head throws back yet again—long pretty hair flowing against his shoulders. “god, you’re so fuckin’ nasty. riding me this g-good.”

you even start to tug on his hair, and that makes him moan even more. not like he minded. it turned him on, needless to say. 

once geto came, it was thick, so much that it instantly spilled out of your cunt. you paused your hips, and he silenced his groans by grunting against your neck. he’s shaking just as much as you were — and it came out in velvety ropes, spurting and spurting. 

“take it all,” he hisses, gripping onto your waist tightly. you whimper, grinding against him just for a few seconds and he’s for once speechless. “damn, those hips of yours is so deadly, fuck.”

you whined, sitting up and he pulls out of you, watching his own cum spill and drip out. geto brings a thumb towards your clit to smear it all over your pussy, an image that was a something he’d never erase from his mind. 

you panted, hitting your back against his bunk while geto leans in to kiss you deeply. you kissed back, dragging your tongue against his, feeling his warm breath fan against yours before he pulls away with a weary expression. 

“good girl,” he murmurs, peppering a soft kiss near the side of your mouth. “remember my promise?” 

“yeah.” you exhale, trying to catch your breath. your legs felt like jello — head clouded and entirely empty, not a single thought in your mind. 

he smiles. “good. because i forgot to tell ya something else,” and you stare at him, a soft confused head tilt, watching him re-adjust his jumpsuit, pulling his boxers and pants part up. “have fun being in solitary by yourself.”

“wait w-what?” you stammer, and reaches the door, your own keys in hand — and you couldn’t have felt anymore stupid. geto chuckles, with a sly shrug. “princess, you were so gullible. letting me take your keys,” and he unlocks the huge latch before grinning. “but hey, don’t feel too bad. you have a date tonight.”

you glare, overwhelmed with emotions before spitting out a, “fuck you.”

“you literally just did,” he wriggles his eyebrows. “don’t worry. i’ll come back for you,” and then he opens the steel door.

yet before slamming it, he gives you a wink and that same sly grin. “nah i’m just kidding, no i won’t. sorry.”

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)

I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.

It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time

tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b

When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.

It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆

Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!

I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.

The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.

Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.

And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.

“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.

“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”

“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.

Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”

“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”

Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”

Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.

Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”

“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.

“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”

Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”

Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”

Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.

What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.

“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.

“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”

He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.

"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.

“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."

Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”

“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”

He sighed, “I’m not.”

Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”

He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”

“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.

Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.

With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.

With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.

His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.

His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”

This is ridiculous.

Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.

Nothing.

"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.

He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.

He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.

Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.

After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.

So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.

It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.

Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.

In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.

But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.

Still.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.

He held his breath, unconsciously.

With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.

"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."

Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.

Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.

"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.

But today, they were soft and out of focus.

"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.

"Am I dreaming?"

He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."

"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"

Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.

Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.

"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."

He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"

You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.

"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.

A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.

“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.

“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.

You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”

His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.

"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.

"When was your last time, mon cher?"

Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."

"You're in hell now."

"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.

"Look at me."

Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.

With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.

Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.

He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?

Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.

He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."

Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.

He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.

A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.

"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.

He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.

No.

Not enough.

Too soon.

A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.

He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.

When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.

Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.

He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.

"My doe?"

Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"

"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."

The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.

"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.

Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"

Suddenly, silence.

The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"

"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.

"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.

"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"

Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.

"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"

"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."

"Yet..." She cocked her brow.

"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."

Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"

"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.

She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"

His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."

He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.

But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?

"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."

Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.

For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.

To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.

He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.

Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.

The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.

One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.

You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.

And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.

Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.

He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.

When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”

༻Masterlist༺

[annievrse]

pick up lines

roronoa zoro x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb c/w: established relationship, reader gets called 'pretty' (aka my favourite term of endearment from zoro), a little suggestive but nothing too crazy.

Zoro squints the small paper in between his fingers. "I could get lost in your eyes..."

Nami sighs, rolling her eyes. "You get lost walking in a straight line."

"Yeah, marimo, try a different one."

"Fuck you, cook."

Sanji and Nami glance at one another, the former taking a drag of his cigarette before stepping into the kitchen. "Nami-swan, would you like a refreshment?"

"Yes, please," She says, returning to the swordsman. "What else have you got written down?"

Rubbing his forehead, Zoro sighs. "Is it hot in here? Or is it just you?"

The navigator drops her face into her hands, her elbows on the table. "Where did you get these from?"

Narrowing his eyes at Sanji, Zoro mumbles something incoherent, and Nami knows he's a lost cause.

"I don't know how you got her to date you in the first place," Sanji quips, placing an orange glass before Nami. "You're hopeless at this."

"Stop," Nami shakes her head. "You've been together for how long? Three years? I don't know why you're trying pick up lines now."

Zoro huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, the piece of paper crushed in his fist. "I'm trying to be romantic."

"I wouldn't put you and romantic in the same sentence."

Zoro goes to retort when the door to the kitchen swings shut, and the trio turn to see you.

"There you are," Smiling, you walk toward Zoro, his arm circling your waist when you stand beside him. "Hey, baby."

"Hi, pretty," The swordsman grumbles, pulling you closer. You rest your hand in his hair and scratch his scalp lightly. Almost like a cat, you can feel him relax.

"Drink?" Sanji asks, already handing you a glass.

"Thank you," You say, Zoro's hand curling further to splay his palm across your stomach as you take the cup. You sip the beverage before leaning down to kiss Zoro's cheek. "Wanna go to bed soon?"

Nami and Sanji narrow their eyes in your direction, waiting with bated breath.

Your breath on his cheek holds the sweet tang of orange, and Zoro refrains from devouring you whole right then and there. Nonetheless, he pointedly ignores his crewmates and smiles.

"Would you mind pinching me?"

Sanji and Nami groan and hide their faces. You hold back a laugh and squeeze the skin of his thick bicep with your index finger and thumb.

Zoro's eyes twinkle with something unsaid, and you feel your face warm up. "Sorry, you're just so cute, I thought I was dreaming."

You scrunch up your nose and shove your face into his neck, his deep laughter rocking his body. He moves his arms so you're on his lap, your body flush against his.

"That's our cue to leave," Nami says, disgust lacing her words. She grabs Sanji's arm and tugs him from the room, stopping in the doorway. "Don't keep me up, or I will strangle you."

Zoro salutes her with his free hand, the other wrapped securely around you.

You pull your head from his shoulder and rest your palms on his warm cheeks. "How long were you saving that one?"

Sighing, Zoro furrows his eyebrows. "Few days."

"Cute," You laugh, pulling his face closer and pecking his lips. "You're so cute."

Zoro scoffs with his eyes on your mouth, his tongue darting to taste the orange from your lips. "And they said I'm not romantic."

[fear-is-truth]

⋆𐙚 ₊ no nut november .ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ kyle spencer ‧ jimmy darling ‧ james march ‧ kai anderson ‧ peter maximoff

tate langdon ── 11/04

acts like he’s on board with the challenge at first, but it doesn’t take long for the strain to start showing. he’s not used to this level of restraint—especially when it’s you asking him.

managed to make it a few days but is visibly frustrated whenever he sees you, especially if you’re walking around wearing his sweater, licking a lollipop or basically just breathing and existing.

makes whiny complaints about how pointless this is. absolutely tries to cop a feel here and there.

after you caught him jerking off into your panties, he tries to convince you to just drop the whole idea so he can fuck you properly.

if all else fails, tate will try to initiate when you’re half-asleep. you’ll wake up to find him sidling closer, hands roaming, whispering in your ear about how “you can’t really mean this.”

it’s only day four, and tate’s already driving himself (and you) crazy. he trails behind you through every room in the house, whining about how “this whole challenge is fucking stupid.” and “what’d you expect me to do when you’re at school, huh? can’t even jerk off,” he complains, dragging his feet as he follows you into the kitchen. you laugh a little, shaking your head as you reach for a glass of water.

“it’s not that hard, tate. you’ll be fine,” you tell him, but you can feel his eyes trailing down, settling on your legs and the edge of your sundress.

“yeah?” before you can react, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his chest to your back and pulling you close. he’s warm, and his hands slide down to rest on your hips, pulling you back against him. you can feel him grinding slowly, enough to make you feel the hard outline of his cock press against your ass.

“tate,” you warn, but he just huffs in indignation, burying his face in your shoulder. “you’re killing me, is that what you want?” he whines, but you reach back and give him a gentle shove, slipping out of his arms. “you’re already dead, tate.” he watches you, eyes shiny with hurt and longing before shoving his hands in his pockets and sulking off.

kit walker ── 11/15

kit genuinely tries, especially since you’re the one who proposed the challenge, but it’s hard. he’s always been affectionate and has a naturally high sex drive, so this test of willpower isn’t easy for him.

he’s restless and a little grumpy, occasionally making passing comments like, “don’t know how you expect me to do this” with a plaintive sigh that make it clear he’s barely holding it together.

kit has been sitting at the kitchen table for the past half hour, cigarette in hand, eyes locked on you the entire time as you’re working on a blueberry pie. it’s been two long weeks of restraint, and he’s been doing his best to keep his promise—but right now, watching you bustle around while wearing a apron, he feels his patience slipping.

finally, he stands, moving to the window above the sink and pulling open the blinds just enough to check the yard. outside, the kids are laughing and running, entirely preoccupied. satisfied, he lets the blinds fall back into place, turning his attention fully on you.

you look over your shoulder as he steps up behind you, that barely concealed hunger in his eye. “you hungry?” you ask, feigning innocence as you press the last bit of dough into the pie tin. he huffs a low laugh, his hands already slipping around your waist. “mhm. you can say that. not for pie, though.” he murmurs, voice vibrating against your cheek.

you raise an eyebrow, half-smiling as you remind him, “i thought you were trying to hold out.” kit lets his hands settle on your hips, pulling you back against him. “i was,” he says, dropping his head to press a kiss just below your ear, “but i don’t think i can keep it up anymore. i’ve been watchin’ you all afternoon, and all i can think about is you.”

his lips trail slowly along your neck as his fingers trace along the curves of your ass. “the kids’ll be fine outside,” he coos. “think it’s time i tapped out of this whole challenge,” and before you can protest, his mouth is on yours, firm and warm, every bit of his two-week restraint unraveling.

pre death .ᐟ kyle spencer ── completed

self control king. his frat brothers are amazed he’s lasted, even with all their attempts to sabotage him.

they constantly send him twitter porn links, show him porn mags or try to bribe you to help make him crack. but kyle doesn’t even budge.

you still have your daily cuddling routine, and he eats you out regularly because he’s a selfless boyfriend.

kyle’s fraternity decided to make a big deal out of the “no nut november trend”. they all took the challenge together, but one by one, his frat brothers dropped out, and by week four, kyle’s the last man still standing. you watch your boyfriend with a mix of admiration and slight frustration. it’s not that you want him to give in; it’s just… maybe you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to, at least a little.

you’re sitting with him in his room one night, the faint buzz of a party downstairs, but kyle’s paying it no mind. he’s stretched out on his bed, flipping through a class notebook, looking completely unbothered. you watch him for a moment, then sighs.

“kyle, i don’t know how you do it,”

he smiles, rubbing the back of his neck. “what can i say? i’ve got a will of steel.” he glances back down at his notes.

“so… when december starts, are you still planning on being all celibate and zen?”

he chuckles, his cheeks going a little pink. “not gonna lie, i’m already counting down the hours,” he admits, leaning in closer. “because the second november ends, i’m not holding back. if i survived this month, trust me—destroy dick december will be a breeze.”

you can’t help but laugh, and he leans in to give you a quick kiss, his hand finding yours. “but hey,” he says, voice softer, “it’s only easy because you make it worth waiting for.”

jimmy darling ── 11/06

initially tries to go along with the challenge because he respects you and doesn’t want to disappoint you.

but he’s also someone who thrives on touch, so it’s practically torture for him from the start.

you’ll catch him staring at you, and he gets visibly antsy, especially if you’re wearing something cute or revealing.

six days. that’s how long jimmy manages to last. he tries to keep his promise to you, he really does, but it’s no use. every time he sees you around the camp, especially when you’re dressed up in a leotard for a performance or just leaning close to help him with something, he gets that look in his eyes—hungry, smoldering, and unabashedly lustful.

it’s late, and you’re walking past jimmy’s caravan while carrying a basket of laundry when he finally snaps. he’s been watching you from afar, arms crossed and brows furrowed, looking like he’s pissed off about something. when you catch his eye, he’s already standing up and moving toward you like a missile.

“i can’t take this anymore, doll,” he whined, his breath reeking with the unmistakable smell of alcohol. “six days—feels like six damn years.” you laugh, shaking your head.

“jimmy, i told you it was just a challenge,” you tease, trying to keep a straight face. but he’s not having it. his hands settle on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest before he leans in, forehead resting against yours. “don’t care about any stupid fucking challenge. only care about you. i need you so bad,”

afterward, jimmy lets out a deep, satisfied sigh, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both try to catch your breath. slowly, he lets you slide back down to the ground, his arms loosening just enough for you to find your footing, though he doesn’t fully let go. you feel his lips press a lingering kiss to your neck, a lazy smirk spreading across his face.

“guess i lost,” his thumb rubbing small circles into your waist. he leans in closer, brushing his nose against yours. “but hell if it wasn’t worth it.”

james patrick march ── 11/24

james has self-control in spades, especially when it comes to his (ex) wife, elizabeth, who has often denied him for months at a time. so, he actually handles this challenge far better than you’d expect.

he channels his frustration elsewhere, like into his “hobbies” (aka his killing sprees around the hotel), which spike significantly during this time. murder brings him a similar orgasmic thrill, and he relies on that to keep himself satisfied.

despite the restraint, he never makes you feel pressured. james will hold your hand, kiss you chastely on the cheek, and even give you sweet little compliments, but that’s the extent of it.

you look up just as james steps into the room, wiping his hands with a bloodstained handkerchief, black eyes alight with the usual post-slaughter exhilaration. “ah, my darling,” he greets, voice smooth yet edged, like a blade still warm from a kill. your gaze falls to his hands, and he notices, lifting them for his own inspection. “a bit messier tonight, i’ll admit,” he murmurs with a sigh, dabbing at his knuckles, though the effort seems half-hearted.

“not even a night of indulgence can quiet the… urges you stir in me.”

he steps closer, fingers brushing your cheek, leaving the faintest trace of crimson on your skin. his hand lingers, flexing, as if he’s holding himself back. you smirk, leaning in to brush a kiss to his lips, there’s a metallic tang to it. james shudders, his hand bracing itself on the back of the couch, jaw clenching as if he’s struggling to restrain himself.

“is it really that difficult? i think you’re being a bit dramatic, dear.” the lilting coo of your voice, the sadistic intent behind it makes his cock twitch painfully in his trousers.

“you’re… tormenting me, truly,” he sighs in frustration. “this damnable month. all the blood in the world can’t satisfy what i truly crave.”

cult leader .ᐟ kai anderson ── completed

while some people might perceive him as a total sex fiend, kai has the self-discipline to pull this off easily, and he sees it as an experiment in control, something to elevate his focus.

claims that refraining from ejaculation is actually a tool for enhancing testosterone and will lecture the entire cult on the “benefits” of nnn. also brings up the heaven’s gate cult’s abstinence rule as a form of enlightenment and compares his self-control to “channeling energy for a higher purpose” (everyone knows that’s a load of bullshit)

you start trying to tempt him halfway through, wearing something a bit more revealing around him, but he just smirks, unaffected. the challenge you proposed to him feels almost trivial, which makes it all the more frustrating for you.

however, the second it’s december 1st, he flips. he’s at your door right at midnight, and you won’t be able to walk for a week.

kai’s taking no nut november in stride—too much stride, actually. you were the one who suggested it, but now his calm, unaffected attitude is starting to get under your skin. every time you attempt to seduce him, he gives no reaction.

when kai walks in your shared bedroom, you’re lounging in bed, legs spread wide open, wearing nothing but a tight white turtleneck sweater. he glances over, eyebrow raised. for a second, his gaze lingers on your hardened nipples straining against the fabric. then he just smirks, looks you up and down, and goes to grab his bottle of adderall without a word.

“really?” you ask, annoyed, but he just snorts. “nice try,” he says over his shoulder as he walks away. the days drag on, each one more frustrating than the last as he remains completely unmoved, almost like a silent “fuck you”.

finally, on november 30th, you’ve just about resigned yourself to defeat. you’re in bed, pulling the covers over yourself, when you hear footsteps in the hallway. you glance at the clock—it’s just turning from 23:59 to midnight, the start of december. you barely have a second to process it before your bedroom door swings open, and there he is, standing in the doorway with that same dark look in his eyes, only this time, there’s nothing holding him back.

“miss me?” he asks as he steps inside and closes the door behind him.

peter maximoff ── 11/08

he’ll try every trick in the book—whining, pouting, seduction, and even half-joking about “what if my balls burst?” “you’re actually gonna let me suffer like this?”

on day eight, peter’s pretty much losing his mind. he’s sprawled out on the couch, groaning dramatically every few minutes, tossing his head back as if he’s in physical pain.

“this is torture,” he complains, looking at you with big, desperate eyes. “what’d i ever do to deserve this? my balls are gonna burst,”

you just laugh, shaking your head as you unwrap a lollipop. “you’ve gone without it for a day over a week, peter. you act like it’s been a lifetime,” you tease, popping the candy into your mouth with a grin.

his eyes follow the movement, and his whole expression changes, growing intense in a way that’s unlike his usual playful self. for a second, he’s silent, watching you suck on the lollipop like it’s the final straw. “okay, i’m not gonna survive this,” he mutters, voice a bit rough.

in the blink of an eye, he’s disappeared, zipping down the hall. you hear the bathroom door slam shut, followed by a muffled, frustrated groan from the other side.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[p0orbaby]

Wrinkled Silk

summary: Alexia’s plans to propose causes a rift between you

warnings: a little angst with a happy ending, you’re welcome

a/n: thank you for the request !

word count: 2.6k

-

“Six years, Alexia! Six years I’ve given my life to you and you can’t even answer one fucking question!”

“Lo siento,” she mutters, voice barely a thread.

You laugh, disbelieving, the sound bouncing off the cold, indifferent walls. “You’re sorry? That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?”

Alexia stands before you, her head down, eyes glued to the floor. She doesn’t even have the decency to look you in the eye, which somehow makes it all worse.

“You’re pathetic,” you spit, each syllable a poisoned arrow aimed straight at her heart.

The words hang in the air, heavy and acrid, like cigarette smoke after a long night out. Alexia flinches, but she doesn’t respond. You stare at her, searching for some sign of the woman you fell in love with, but all you see is a stranger standing small in front of you.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you say, your voice breaking. “I can’t be in a relationship where I’m constantly kept in the dark. It’s not fair on me”

Alexia’s head snaps up, eyes wide and desperate. “Por favor, it is not what you think”

“Then what is it, Ale? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re hiding something. Are you seeing someone else? Heaven forbid you have a second family you need to tell me about”

“No! None of that. Lo juro,” she insists, her voice trembling like a leaf in a storm.

“Then what?” Your voice is loud, angry, but underneath it all is the dull, relentless ache of a breaking heart. “What could possibly be so important that you’re willing to push me away?”

You had been feeling it for weeks, that sinking sensation in your chest, the gnawing worry that something was wrong. It wasn’t like Alexia to be so distant, so evasive. She was always your rock, your constant. But lately, she’d been slipping away, caught up in something she wouldn’t talk about. It gnawed at you, gnawed at the fabric of your relationship until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Alexia looks down again, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I cannot tell you. Es- Es una sorpresa”

“A surprise?” You can’t help the incredulous cackle that escaped your lips. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

You’re met with silence. Weakness, perhaps. Or shame. Whatever it is, you can’t find it in you to care anymore.

You shake your head, sad it has come to this, frustrated that you let it. “Fine. If you can’t trust me enough to let me in, then I’m done. We’re done”

Trust. It sounded so simple, but it was the hardest thing in the world when the person you loved most was keeping secrets.

Alexia’s eyes widen with panic. “No, please. Don’t do this”

“It’s already done.” You grab your coat and bag, the weight of your decision pressing heavily down on you. You move to the door, hesitating for a moment, hoping she’ll say something, but when she doesn’t, you leave.

-

“Ale is asking for you again”

“Tell her to fuck off, Maria”

This was not where you saw yourself at this point in your life. Single and practically homeless. Bunking in your friend’s spare room while your world collapses around you like papier-mâché in the wind.

“I cannot do that, she is our captain,” Mapi says as she hovers at the door, half in, half out, like she can’t decide if coming closer is a good idea or if she should just make a run for it.

“Fine,” you snap, thrusting out your hand. “Give me the phone”

Your tone is sharp enough to cut glass, and Mapi, wisely, hands you her phone like it’s a grenade with the pin pulled out, praying it comes back in one piece.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Fuck off, Alexia,” you say, short and succinct before hanging up and tossing the phone back to Mapi in one smooth move. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Los ingleses estáis locos,” she mutters, catching the phone like a seasoned number one.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when your life partner cheats on you,” you retort, pulling the covers up under your chin, cocooning yourself in a fortress of misery.

Mapi’s eyes bug out like you’ve just told her the Earth is flat. “¡No! ¡Eso no puede ser verdad, Alexia nunca haría eso!”

You scoff, the sound muffled by your blanket fort. “She’s keeping secrets, Mapi. She’s been getting home late, taking secret calls, she’s even changed the password on her phone! There’s no other explanation”

Mapi stands there, mouth agape like a fish out of water, her brain struggling to catch up. It would almost be funny if it weren’t your life falling apart.

“I think you are being, what is the word in English, teatral?” she finally says, her voice uncertain.

You groan into the air, rolling away from her to face the wall, the universal sign of ‘I’m done with this conversation’

“Dramática Maria. The word you’re looking for is dramática, and I am very offended”

“You should talk to her, let her explain,” she suggests quietly, her voice laced with caution. Clearly, you’ve scared her, which is a minor victory in itself.

You roll back over, glaring at her. “And have her embarrass me with stories of her gallivanting off with other women? Absolutely not”

“I need your translation”

“Deambulando por, María! Deambulando por!”

-

Mapi could hear Alexia’s footsteps echoing down the corridor before she even saw her. They were heavy, plodding. The sound of a defeated captain. She leans against the changing room doorframe, waiting for Alexia to reach her, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

“Do you know how much I hate you right now?” Mapi said as Alexia finally approaches.

Alexia’s eyes slide to her friend, taken aback. “What?”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like living with your insufferable ex?” Mapi continues, her voice dripping with exaggerated disdain. “It’s like sharing a flat with a black hole. The flowers wilt every time she walks past. The cat hides under the bed like it can sense a tsunami or something. Hell, I think the paint’s started peeling off the walls”

Alexia sighs, her shoulders sagging even further, if that is even possible. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Mapi snaps, her voice taking on the tone of an exasperated school teacher. “You need to fix this, Alexia. Now! You owe it to everyone, especially me and Ingrid. She’s threatening to go back to Norway, and I can’t blame her. Do you know how hard it is to find a girlfriend who’ll put up with my shit?”

Alexia rubs at her temples, frustration and guilt mixing into a potent brew of self-loathing. “I don’t know what to do. You know she won’t talk to me”

Mapi straightens up, uncrossing her arms. “Well, then you need to make her listen. And I’ve got just the plan to make sure she does”

Alexia looks at her, hope flickering in her eyes for the first time in days. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you need to stop sulking and start acting like the woman she knows you really are,” Mapi says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “We’re going to give her the proposal of a lifetime, and you’re going to need my help. And Ingrid’s”

Alexia raises an eyebrow, the flame of hope hitting that much brighter. “You think that will work?”

Mapi grins, the kind of grin that usually means trouble. “Oh, I know it will work. We’re talking grand gestures, romance like you’ve only seen in movies. We’re going to make her feel like the most important person in the world, which, let’s face it, she is. To you, at least”

Alexia can’t help but smile, the first real smile in what felt like forever. “Alright. What do we need to do?”

Mapi claps her hands together, rubbing them as if she was plotting a world takeover. “First, we need to make sure she can’t ignore you. Then, we need to show her just how much you love her. We’re going to need a lot of help, some strategic planning, and possibly a truckload of flowers”

Alexia’s smile turns into a laugh, a genuine laugh that seemed to lift the weight off her shoulders, if only for a moment. “I’m in. Whatever it takes, I’m in”

Mapi nods, satisfied. “Good. Because if you don’t fix this, I’m sending you back to live with your imaginary second family”

-

Ingrid has a knack for persuasion that borders on the supernatural. You find yourself in the passenger seat of her car, rolling your eyes as she drives you to an undisclosed location. She has insisted it is important, something you needed to see. You had resisted at first; rotting around Mapi’s flat has become a comforting routine, but Ingrid was relentless.

“Come on,” Ingrid had said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just trust me. You’ll thank me later”

Now, you were here, winding down a dirt road surrounded by fields that seem to stretch forever. The sun is beginning to set, casting a golden glow over everything. It is beautiful, but you can’t shake the feeling of annoyance. What could possibly be so important?

“Ingrid, if this is some kind of prank, I swear to whichever god you believe in” you trail off, giving her a side-eye.

She just smiles, her usual cool demeanor unshaken. “Patience, Kjære. You’ll see”

The car comes to a stop, and Ingrid gets out, motioning for you to follow. You step out, the soft crunch of gravel under your feet. She leads you down a path lined with fairy lights, their soft glow leading the way as dusk begins to settle. Your heart starts to race, a strange flurry of anticipation and confusion swirling inside you.

“What is this?”

Ingrid just smiles and points ahead. “Just keep walking”

You do as you are told, following the path until you reach an open field. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight before you. The field was transformed into a magical wonderland, with twinkling lights hanging from trees, flowers arranged in intricate patterns, and a small clearing in the middle where Alexia stands, waiting.

She looks nervous, her eyes locking onto yours the moment you appear. Ingrid gives you a gentle nudge forward, and then she steps back, disappearing into the background to give you and Alexia some privacy.

You walk slowly towards Alexia, your heart pounding in your chest. She is dressed simply, a white linen shirt and some suit trousers, but the way the soft light hits her makes her look almost ethereal. You stop a few feet away, crossing your arms, your expression hardening.

“Hi,” she says softly, her voice trembling.

“Hi,” you reply, your voice flat.

Alexia takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I know you’re probably wondering what this is all about. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m so sorry for that. I’ve spent weeks planning this, trying to make it perfect because I want to show you how much you mean to me”

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “You think some fairy lights and flowers are going to fix everything?”

Alexia winces at the harshness in your voice but doesn't back down. As stubborn as ever. “No, I don’t. I know it’s going to take a lot more than that. But I needed to start somewhere”

You take a step closer, the intensity of your emotions making your voice weak. “You shut me out, Alexia. For weeks, you made me feel like I wasn’t enough, like I wasn’t worth your trust. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

Her eyes fill with tears, her guilt and regret plain to see. “I’m so sorry. I was trying to make this a surprise, to make it perfect for you. I didn’t realise how much I was pushing you away in the process”

You look at her, seeing the genuine pain in her eyes, the remorse. “You should have talked to me”

Alexia nod, swallowing hard. “You’re right. I should have. I was scared, and I handled it all wrong. But I love you, more than anything. And I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you”

Before you can say anything, she drops to one knee, the cool grass pressing against her skin. From her pocket, she pulls out a small, velvet box. She opens it to reveal a ring, the delicate band catching the light.

“I’ve loved you for six years, and I want to love you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

The world seems to stand still as you look down at her, your heart swelling with conflicting emotions. This was it, the moment you had dreamed of, but it wasn’t as simple as saying yes.

“You broke my heart,” you whisper, your voice choked with tears. “You made me doubt everything”

“I know,” Alexia says, her voice raw with honesty. “And I will spend every day making it up to you if you let me. Please, give me another chance”

Silence hangs heavy between you, the weight of your decision crushing your chest. You look at the ring, then at Alexia, and see the love and desperation in her eyes. She is the love of your life, despite everything.

“Yes,” you finally say, your voice breaking. “Yes, Alexia, I’ll marry you”

-

Your first wedding anniversary comes around quickly, and the scene was far from a candlelit dinner. Instead, it is the training ground, bustling with activity as always. The air is filled with the thud of footballs and the shouts of teammates. You and Alexia are in the midst of a playful sparring session, teasing each other as you work through drills.

Mapi and Ingrid stand on the sidelines, their expressions an unusual combination of pride and amusement as they watch you both. Mapi nudges Ingrid with her elbow. “Look at them. Sickening, isn’t it?”

Ingrid smirks. “Oh, absolutely. They’re so in love it’s almost painful to watch”

You and Alexia pause, taking a break from your drills. She reaches over, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, her touch lingering. “You’re still too slow,” she teases, her eyes sparkling.

“Me? Slow?” You laugh, giving her a light shove. “I’m just giving you a chance to catch up”

“Ugh, can you two keep it together? Some of us are trying to focus here”

Alexia wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “What’s the matter, Mapi? Jealous?”

Ingrid joins the group, chuckling. “If you’re going to be all lovey-dovey, at least do it off the field. Some of us have reputations to maintain”

You roll your eyes, leaning into Alexia. “Like you two wouldn’t be exactly the same if you had someone like this”

Mapi puts on a mock serious face. “Hey, we sacrificed a lot for your happiness. Our peace, our sanity. The least you could do is tone it down a little”

Alexia smirks, her voice lowering between you. “Me tone it down? I’ll be telling her that later when she’s naked, screaming my-“

You feel a blush creeping up your neck as you slap a hand over Alexia’s mouth. “Ale!”

Mapi gags, and you’re uncertain of whether it’s real or not. You wouldn’t blame her, you’re quite shaken by how brazen your wife has become.

Ingrid crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Right, that's enough of that! Can you save some of your energy for the game?”

Alexia kisses the top of your head, her voice softening. “You heard them, cariño. Let’s save the best for after after we win”

You kiss her softly, the world around you fading away for a moment. “I can’t wait”

Alexia pulls you impossibly closer so she can whisper in your ear. “Here’s to many more years, mi amor”

[makeyoumine69]

Euphoria (Memory Reboot x2)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: After wrestling with the lingering thoughts of Bateman, you finally found yourself open to Paul Allen's offer — a life-changing opportunity. But despite your resolve, you couldn't shake the need for closure. Determined, you sought one last encounter with Patrick, intent on resolving the unsaid and the undone before the cityscape of New York faded into your past.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, mutual pining, obsessive behavior, desperate & sensual foreplay, anal fingering, pegging, sex toys, face riding, penetrative sex, rimming (Patrick receiving), oral sex (69, blowjobs), edging, biting, spanking, cum shot, masturbating, praise kink, body worship, drug usage, pet names, dirty talk, needy Patrick, misogyny, swearing, gaslighting, manhandling, mind manipulation.

WORDS: 8.7k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Euphoria

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm sorry it took me quite long to write this, I hope you like it! If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

The clock’s ticking was the only sound in the opulent meeting room of Pierce & Pierce office. Your heart seemed to beat to the rhyme of ticking, while you were nervously spinning the thin cigarette in your hands but never really trying to actually smoke;  the glass ashtray in front of you would probably be left empty till the end of the day. It was even funny how drastically things changed after that…moment of privacy you shared with Bateman. Starting from that, you couldn’t really get him out of your head, even though it has already been several weeks of your pretending game of “nothing had happened” between you and Patrick. It was a matter of time, when your colleagues would start to notice your strange behavior whenever you and Bateman were in one room. 

Squeezing the cigarette between your shaky fingers, you turned around in the leather chair to look at the New York skyline through the wide window. ‘That it is not an exit,’ echoed in your ears and you tried to shake the nervousness off from your tense shoulders, but the more you were being alone, the more surrounding space was weighing on you as if you were on the very bottom of the Pacific ocean. 

The moment the door swung open and Timothy Bryce entered the meeting room, you were more in control of yourself. “Hey, Tim. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Sorry, (y/n). Had a business call with some delusional prick.” Bryce snarled and took a seat across from you.

“Delusional prick?”

"Yeah, you know...delusional," he chuckled and glanced at the cigarette in your hand, which was still more like an accessory. "The guy thought I gave a fuck about his life and his wife, who used to be a whore, by the way."

With a soft snicker, you made yourself more comfortable in your chair, throwing one leg over another. “Wanna smoke?”

“Yep,” he leaned over the table to take the cigarette, your fingers touched for a moment but none of you paid attention. “So, what happened? Why did you want to see me?”

Confused, you took a moment to think about your answer. You worried a lot about picking the right words, but now you were even more anxious. ‘I just need to tell him the truth and that’s all,’ you reassured yourself before turning to face Tim. “Well, the thing is - I’m quitting P & P.”

Tim’s face remained unchanged for a second, but then the man furrowed his brows, tilting his head and rubbing his ear as if he didn’t hear. “You're what? Quitting?”

"Right," you gave him a half-smile and continued. "Recently, I received a very... very good offer from one company in Chicago."

“Jesus Christ. Chicago? Really?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Bryce lit the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. “Who the fuck even gave you this idea? And why so sudden? You have such a good job here, with a good salary and…” He paused and blew a few rings of smoke. “Do those bastards pay well?”

Laughing heartily, you crossed your arms over your chest and watched the smoke dividing the room in two with a white veil. “So many questions. Are you interested in leaving Pierce & Pierce too?”  That was not a serious question, since you knew that Bryce was more than satisfied with his job. “If I say who recommended that place to me, will you keep it a secret?” Tim nodded even before you could say something else. “I was at one P&P party, that one you decided to skip a week ago. So, there I met Paul Allen and we talked a bit and he mentioned that he just came back from his business trip from Chicago…we had a long conversation, but as a result he proposed to me to think about the option to change my current job.”

All the time while you were speaking, Tim was glancing at you with wide open eyes, his prominent brows curling up and down whenever you mentioned Paul Allen’s name. It was always funny for you to watch Bateman & Co getting so frustrated and annoyed whenever Allen was around or whenever someone discussed his success with having the Fisher account. To say the least, his ability to get a reservation at Dorsia. ‘I’m not gonna tell any of them that Allen offered me dinner in Dorsia after that party.’

“So you were unsatisfied with your job all this time and didn’t say anything? That sucks, (y/n). Didn’t expect that to come, not gonna lie,” Bryce made a low sound which was very similar to growling, but at the same time it also sounded like a scoff. “But, if that really is what you want, then who am I to judge you? We have only one life to fulfill all our needs, right?”

Timothy’s statement was like a balm to your soul, that was exactly what you hoped he would tell you and when he did, you felt some kind of relief washing over you like a breeze of fresh air.

“Thank you, Tim,” you finally grinned and put your elbows on the table. “Glad you didn’t start to read me notations.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Him?” You squinted and tilted your head; your intuition was screaming that something was so damn wrong.

“Bateman,” with a sly smile, Bryce put the cigarette out in a glass ashtray; his glance was eloquent but you never really managed to read it. “I bet he will be upset. Very upset.”

“Bryce ” you rolled your eyes. ‘Is he lying or…?’ That question remained unspoken. “Leave these cheesy jabs to yourself, okay?”

Tim only laughed at your weak attempt to threaten him and stood up from the table. “You know, I saw him with Jean in Arcadia last night…” Now this information could come in handy… “I think they had some kind of date or something, huh,” he chuckled again and fixed his tie, giving the picture on the opposite wall a scrutinizing glance. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but something is definitely happening. In my opinion, you should tell him about your…unexpecting leaving, you know.”

Before you could respond, Timothy Bryce looked at you one last time and left the meeting room. Now, you were left alone but not really alone as the weight of the newfound information lay on your shoulders like two massive dumbbells. ‘If everything is too obvious for Bryce, what other things might the others think about me and Bateman?’ That was a rhetorical question mostly, but still you couldn’t even get up from the chair, sensing the strange, chilling fear inside your chest—what if you were mistaken with accepting the offer of a new job?

Gritting your teeth, you snarled and almost kicked the table from beneath, your palms were clenching and unclenching, thankfully no one could see you like this. Swiftly but nervously, you finally stood up and headed out from the meeting room, striving to avoid any of your soon-to-be-ex colleagues on your way to Bateman’s office. 

How many times have you rehearsed the words you were going to say while you were walking up there? Countless. But still, when you entered Patrick's office and saw his lovely secretary, everything inside you froze - words, emotions, even your breath.

“Hi, Jean,” you mumbled, with a half-smile on your slightly tensed face. “Looking good.”

“Uh, thank you,” the blonde woman replied and fixed the stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

As soon as you heard the echo of Patrick's voice through the office door, a lump formed in your throat and you had to cough several times because of the unpleasant dryness.

“Well,” you paused and glanced at the closed door with a nameplate ‘Patrick Bateman’ on it. “You would help me a lot if you let me have a private conversation with your boss.”

“Patrick is,” her voice suddenly wavered, implying that something was wrong. “He’s busy right now.”

“Oh,” you stepped back involuntarily. “Okay, I can come later.”

“No,” Jean replied curtly. “I’m sorry, but today is not an option at all.”

‘Is that some kind of joke?’ You hummed to yourself, already regretting coming here in the first place. “All right then. Have a nice day, Jean.” Turning around you already stepped out from the office when you head her voice:

“(Y/n), wait. Oh, I hope I pronounced your name correctly.” She blushed once you came back inside. “I think I can tell him about your visit, when he will be less busy.”

That offer was not something you would expect. “Actually, that would be nice,” you clicked on your tongue, considering your next steps. “Tell him that I have a reservation at Dorsia at eight o’clock–”

“Today?” Her question cut off your bluffing. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

You just grinned politely in return. “Yep, today. Tell him…that I need to talk with him about business and stuff. And, that it would be probably the last chance for him to catch up with me.” Jean’s eyes widened for a moment, but you reassured her instantly. “No drama, just changing my job.”

“Uh, that was probably a tough decision?”

“Not really,” you winked at her and crossed your arms over the chest. “But don’t tell him about that, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She tried to hide her confusion behind a warm smile but failed. “I’ll tell him that you will be waiting for him at Dorsia tonight and that this conversation is very important.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed and for a moment just stood there, looking at the closed office door. “Thank you, darling. For everything.”

You made a special accent on the word ‘darling’, purposely embarrassing her and leaving no room for any questions and other stuff that would make a current situation even more fucked up. 

After you left Bateman’s office you had to find Allen as only half of what you told Jean was actually bluffing—you knew that Paul had a reservation at Dorsia tonight, considering he was inviting you for dinner. Allen’s strange interest in you wasn’t your top priority at that moment but using it for your sake was something you couldn’t deny at such a situation. So when you finally found Paul in one of the meeting rooms, you persuaded him to give you that reservation, explaining that you wanted to show one of your colleagues Dorsia before you would leave New York and move to Chicago. And even though everyone would find out that that colleague was Patrick Bateman, you wouldn't’ care since you would be far away from here.

A few hours later, the melodious voice of Whitney Houston reverberated off the walls of the opulent living room in Bateman's apartment, the lyrics of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody," which Patrick knew perfectly, striking a chord in his chest every time the song came on.

But today everything was different.

Everything, except some random blonde bimbo who was on her knees between Bateman’s spread legs, sucking his thick cock but not actually giving him any pleasure. Frustrated, the man tugged on her hair without any compassion, bringing her closer, so her nose was almost brushing against his hairy pubis. But almost immediately, the woman began to whimper and claw at the perfect skin of his hips, and he didn't like it.

“What? Already tired?” Bateman sneered and fixated the blonde’s head in one place for a moment by her neck. “Or is that your first time? Then, I’m so fucking honored!"

As soon as the man let the blonde go, she pushed him away and sat back on her ass, breathing heavily. “Are you crazy?” the bimbo inquired and pressed a hand to her half-exposed breasts, her whole appearance looked messy. “I was about…t-to choke on your fucking dick!”

Sighing, Bateman rolled his eyes and just stretched out on the couch, lazily stroking his half-hard shaft. "So, this is your first time?" The woman hesitated to answer, which only made Patrick mock her even more. "Did you tell me that you have a boyfriend? And he works at P&P, right?"

Wiping her mouth with undisguised contempt, the blonde started to get up, but Patrick stepped on the hem of her dress and she almost fell. "Marcus! Stop it!"

"Uh, look at you," the man chuckled, watching her feeble attempts to get up. "Such a pathetic little bitch, pathetic and greedy," the man added, giggling. "Ready to give head to every vice president at Pierce & Pierce! Your boyfriend should be so proud of you."

The woman was on the verge of tears when Bateman finally allowed her to get up and collect her things. She had been in such a hurry that she had left her panties on the glass coffee table. All this gave Patrick much more pleasure than the blonde's inexperienced blowjob.

"Ask your boyfriend to teach you how to suck dicks," he blurted out as the woman rushed into the hallway, rifling through her purse looking for something. "Since he's probably a pro at that sort of thing."

But the girl was already gone. So the man could only laugh to himself, so proud of his cheeky jabs, if only he didn't feel like a schoolboy dreading his upcoming meeting with his teacher. With a heavy sigh, Bateman closed his eyes for a second, his cock was already soft, but his sac were still tense and full of his cum; he felt too unsatisfied with himself, which only made things worse.

What was it even for?

The man could just take some coke, lie down on his bed, close his eyes and think of you—that was enough for him to cum so hard that he had to go to the laundry almost every day because he ran out of sheets. But today was different, considering that Patrick was going to meet you, and not just anywhere, but in fucking Dorsia. It seemed that everyone in this town could get a res there, but not him.

Biting his lower lip, the man looked down at the throbbing cock in his hand - the mere thought of you was making him horny as hell. "Shit…" If only he could reboot his memory and get rid of that scene in the Tunnel. If only. Meanwhile, the Whitney Houston tape continued to play the song "Where Do Broken Hearts Go". Bateman doubted he would be able to masturbate, he was too nervous and stressed out, even imagining you while that bitch was giving him head didn't work. Although it usually did. "Dorsia, huh," the man giggled nervously and checked his Rolex - he still had plenty of time. As if spellbound, Patrick slid to the floor and kicked off his leather shoes, his red tie already loosened and his pants hiked down. Leaning against the couch, Bateman threw his head back and began to jack off, recalling the forbidden, sinful sensations of your hand sliding along his hot flesh. "Mmm-fuck," he moaned and shivered, his free hand already gripping the edge of the white couch, several beads of sweat running down his tense temples. What if today he finally found the courage to confess? Confess that all these days had been a fucking torture for him, that he was ready to crawl on the walls from how much he longed for you, not even physically, but mentally. Maybe, just maybe, your reassurance that everything was not over for him, that maybe he still had a chance to have some normalcy in this cruel world—could change everything?

"Fuck, f-fuck!" Patrick cursed, sensing that his impending orgasm was slipping away from him just by reflecting on the things that were happening between the two of you. Jerking off and thinking about your sexy voice, your hot body and your cheeky smile was one thing, it always turned him on better than anything else, but thinking about the complexity of your relationship… that was not a turn-on for him. Not at all. Cursing to himself, Patrick slicked back his auburn hair and quickly got up to stagger to the bathroom, where he nervously opened the cabinet behind the mirror and found a small white jar of pills. Xanax was his only stress reliever so far. Taking a deep, almost desperate breath, Bateman looked at his reflection, his bloodshot eyes full of tears that threatened to cascade down like a waterfall. "This is not an exit." Patrick told his reflection, but opened the jar anyway and took a handful of pills. Frustrated, unsatisfied, he didn't know how he was going to survive dinner with you, and Dorsia was the last thing on his mind. "Because I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared."

Luckily, the marble walls of his bathroom were the only witnesses to his downfall.

Dawn came to New York faster than you could imagine. All the way to Dorsia you were nervous, but still confident in the plan you had made earlier that day. Even though you had failed in your previous attempt to dot the T's at the Tunnel, today would be different, you were sure of it. ‘I don't even know why, though,’ you chuckled to yourself, and the taxi driver gave you a concerned glance, but you just shrugged it off, signaling him to concentrate on the road.

In the restaurant everything looked the same as when you were here with Paul Allen, but this time you were not the one who was invited, but the one who invited another person—named Patrick Bateman—and speaking of whom, was late and that made you quite anxious. ‘What if he just doesn’t come?’ This thought made you fidget in the chair, your hands fumbling with the napkin on your knees and after telling the waiter for the second time that you were expecting someone else to come, your fingers became cold as if they were frozen. 

“Maybe I can bring you some drinks?” The waiter didn’t give up, spurring you to order at least something to drink.

Quickly running a hand across your strained face, you exhaled loudly and nodded. “Yeah, drinks,” you stummered when you looked past the waiter, noticing the familiar elegant silhouette coming close to your table. “Can you…bring…some water?”

Confused, the waiter glanced down at the full glass of water next to you. “Uh, more water?”

“(Y/n),” Bateman’s voice echoed across the space. “I hope I didn't make you wait for so long,” he chuckled and took a seat at the table. “Had some important business affairs.” The moment he noticed the confused waiter, Patrick gave him his most sassy smile and checked his Rolex for no reason, probably just to show them out. “Can you please bring me a glass of J&B and some fresh salad to your taste.”

‘A salad, really?’ You almost snickered, but instead your face turned into a neutral expression. "Business, huh?"

Bateman rested more comfortably in his chair after the waiter finally left. "You know, some affairs with blonde hair and long legs, big tits and an amazing ass."

That came out of nowhere. 

Still calm, you watched the man across from you smile, surely proud of himself and so damn bossy it was almost absurd. "You mean someone in particular, don't you?"

“Oh, yeah,” Patrick put his both elbows on the table, clasping his hands, revealing his gold Rolex once again. “Her name is Stephany, if I’m not mistaken, she’s a girlfriend of one of our accountants,” the man paused before snickering. “That one who makes monthly reports, you know him. So, I’m a bit late because I couldn't leave such a lovely girl without a treat she deserved.”

Right now, you didn't care if it was true or not—his well-framed—confidence was something you found very interesting and even amusing, as it was proof that he was preparing for this dinner just like you were.

"And that's when I thought vice presidents actually worked at Pierce & Pierce." With a slight grin, you joked and finally took a sip of water, feeling your throat suddenly go dry, just like when you were talking to Jean earlier.

Bateman's sudden laugh rang out like shattered glass. "'C'mon, (y/n), don't pretend you don't know that-"

"I know that your father owns almost half of the company," you interrupted him abruptly, and he wasn't happy about it. "And that gives you certain privileges."

"Don't be envious. It doesn't suit you."

"Envious?" You set the glass of water aside. "I think it was me who invited you here so that you could finally visit Dorsia… at least once."

The air between the two of you was thick with venom and something even more poisonous. Nevertheless, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't think Bateman was acting like the jerk he undoubtedly was. But, to be honest, you expected him to act a little less smug.

"I still think this place is overrated," Patrick hissed through clenched teeth right as the waiter brought him his whiskey and salad with sliced vegetables and some cheese, which he didn't even touch, taking a big gulp of his drink. "So, uh, Jean told me you wanted to talk to me about something important. What is it?"

The waiter didn't even try to offer to check the menu again and retreated, but he would definitely come back later with the same request, since you hadn't ordered anything yet.

"Well, it doesn't seem to matter anymore," you suddenly declared, crumpling the paper napkin before dropping it on the finest tablecloth. "The thing is—I'm quitting P&P and moving to Chicago. That's it. Nothing special, really."

The moment of silence washed over them both like a tidal wave. Visibly shocked, Bateman just sat there, then nervously straightened his tie and looked around as if to call for help. 'Not so ballsy anymore, Patty?' There was something about the way he was humiliated, something that stirred a burning flame in your gut that came dangerously close to burning you alive from the inside. And again, you would be lying to yourself if you pretended you could control it.

"Chicago?" Patrick repeated as if he hadn't heard correctly.

"Why do both you and Bryce react as if Chicago were a desert island?"

"Heh," Bateman rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair. "So Bryce knows everything. Why am I not surprised?"

"I'd tell you more," that was the moment you'd been waiting for so long—the moment of his vulnerability, and you couldn't stop yourself like a shark who sensed blood in the water. "Paul Allen was the one who actually recommended this job to me."

Patrick's jaw clenched at the mention of Paul Allen. "Really?"

"Yes," you continued to corner him. "One day we were having dinner, here, in Dorsia," you grinned, catching every little change in Bateman's no longer confident face. "He said one of his buddies was starting a new company, and they were looking for specialists… like me."

"Well," he began, sliding his hand across the table's surface as if to calm down. "Good for you, (y/n). Congratulations!" That was the most fake 'congratulations' you ever heard, even though you were expecting a slightly different reaction. "But I don't understand. Why didn't you talk to me before? Before you made your decision."

This question almost made you choke. 'Did he really say that?' And just as you were about to answer, the waiter came across the table again, choosing the perfect moment. Before he could offer to check the menu, you raised your hand in an irritating gesture. "Bring me a vodka and orange juice," Patrick's eyebrows arched almost immediately. "Double vodka, please."

"Yes, s-sure." The waiter stuttered before taking the crumpled napkin and walking away, very stressed.

Without giving yourself time to think, you leaned against the table and muttered. "Why should I? We are not friends."

"Of course not," Bateman scowled, crossing his arms over his broad chest, the black pinstriped suit outlining his physique perfectly. "Not after you gave me a decent handjob in the Tunnel bathrooms."

Patrick caught you off guard by injecting this argument so blatantly into the conversation. "Decent? It was fucking amazing." You growled and quickly turned around to see if anyone was paying attention to your table, and when you were sure there was nothing to worry about, you faced Patrick again. "Too amazing, considering you seem to be thinking about it all the time."

"W-what? I… I didn't…"

Sneering, you tapped your fingers on the table in nervous anticipation of your drinks, even though you hadn't planned on drinking any alcohol, wanting to keep yourself as sober as possible for the dinner and everything that might or might not happen afterwards.

"Relax, Bateman," you rested your chin on your clasped hands, finally allowing yourself to examine his handsome appearance, including the way his cheeks were tinged with a red hue. "You've said too much already."

And from that moment on, you began to feel relaxed, even pleased with all the things Patrick revealed to you, accidentally or not, you would use every little detail to your own advantage when the time came.

A little later, when the waiter finally brought your cocktail, you finished it too quickly, so you asked for it to be repeated under the attentive hazel eyes of the man sitting on the other side of the table. The more drunk you got, the more topics you discussed, but when you mentioned Paul Allen again, you noticed that Patrick's good mood was fading.

"Wait a minute!" You held out a hand to stop him from jumping from one topic to another. "Can you tell me why the mere mention of Paul Allen triggers you so much? Is there something between you two?"

Bateman couldn't hold back a loud, hearty laugh. "That joke's too tasteless even for Bryce," he finished his whiskey, the salad still untouched on the table in front of him. "Allen…he's…not the person he tries to pretend to be."

"Oh?"

"I think he's part of that Yale thing."

You narrowed your eyes and leaned in closer. "Yale thing? What do you mean?"

Patrick quickly licked his lips, not expecting you to delve further into the subject. "Well, I think he's probably a closeted homosexual who likes to do a lot of coke and have orgies with male hookers."

At first you just giggled out loud, not caring that some people were looking at you, but then your face suddenly became serious. "How do you know about that? Did he tell you or…" you smiled playfully. "Did he do something… that made you think so," you bit your lower lip and drank the last drop of your cocktail with unabashed thirst. "That sounds strange…very strange."

"You're drunk, (y/n)," Bateman murmured, tilting his hand as if thinking about something. "Too drunk, which gives me the impression that you're as much of an amateur at drinking as you are at doing coke."

"Uh, s-shut up."

"See? Can't even speak words."

"Maybe...maybe I am drunk, now what? Are you gonna be a fucking gentleman like you always try to be and offer me a ride? Or maybe," you fixed your hair nonchalantly, your vision slightly blurred. "Would you be brave enough to show me your apartment?"

As soon as those words came out of your mouth, you knew there was no turning back, and your inner voice, which usually kept you from doing shit you would regret, seemed to fall asleep from the high level of alcohol in your system.

The man across from you straightened up at your bold suggestion, reading the subtext with ease. "Is that what you want? For me to take you to my place?"

His question hung in the air for a moment before you managed to come up with an answer, but you didn't know how to get out of this situation and turn it into a joke, as you usually did. Maybe you just didn't want to get out of it? Just like you didn't want to let him go when he helped you get up from the table after he'd paid for dinner and the two of you were in a cab. Not to mention when you almost fell down and the man caught you in his arms, but there was still a barrier between the two of you—an invisible wall—the only line that kept you apart. The line that was too dangerous to cross, but too tempting not to think about what lay behind it.

By the time the cab pulled up at the American Gardens Building, you were half asleep on Bateman's shoulder, his Lancome cologne not helping at all, making your mind even more cloudy. But you did your best to get out of the car without his help, letting the cool fresh air bring you some relief and clarity. 

In the elevator, Patrick began to mumble about his musical preferences, but you didn't really pay attention because your brain was overworked trying to come up with a plan B in case things went too far. 'As if they hadn't gone too far already,' your inner voice suddenly tried to break through the thick layers of alcohol, affection and uncontrollable desire.

Bateman's apartment looked exactly as you had imagined—opulent, stylish, and very minimalist. Everything seemed to be in its place, including you, standing next to the tall window in his living room.

"Not a bad view," you admitted, taking off the jacket of your suit. "Not Central Park, but not bad at all."

"Central Park?" Patrick asked, hiding in the kitchen, which was perfectly connected to the living room, but you couldn't see him behind the wall as he examined the large number of different kitchen knives.

"Yeah, you know, Paul Allen's apartment faces Central Park, looks really fancy," you didn't mean to hurt Bateman's feelings, but the moment you turned around and saw him, it was obvious that your words had reached him. "But, I really prefer your place...it's more modern for my taste."

Puzzled, Patrick didn't hurry to join you in the living room, his thin fingers never ceasing to slide up and down the sharp blade in his hand, but at the very last moment, the man put the knife back in its place. With deliberate steps, he walked out of the kitchen and approached his stereo system.

"Really?" He asked in disbelief, as if his life depended on your answer.

Such a reaction from him was oddly appealing, the vulnerability, the desperation in his brown eyes. This was a level of satisfaction that no drug could ever match. Meanwhile, Bateman turned on the music, the charming voice of Phil Collins filling the room as "Invisible Touch" began to play.

The man was examining the tape in his hands when you slowly approached and gently cupped his face, inducing him to look at you. "Yes, I do," you confirmed your previous words, and when Patrick didn't flinch from your touch, you decided to go on, tracing your finger along his sensual lips, fighting the urge to kiss them here and now. "Speaking of preferences," you removed your hand only to place it on the lapel of his suit. "Would you be a good boy and give me a full tour of your apartment, including the bedroom?"

In any other situation, you would probably die from shame at saying something like that, but not now. Not with him, because no sooner had your question escaped your lips than you noticed that his hands were shaking, and the CD was about to fall out of them, so you had to gently grab it and pull it out of his hands. Bateman reminded you of a man struggling with addiction, every twitch of his plump lips, every furrow of his perfect eyebrows spoke volumes about the undeniable affection between the two of you, an affection you were both too exhausted to fight and hide.

Without further ado, you placed the CD on top of the stereo and pressed Patrick against the nearest wall, holding the lapels of his Valentino suit and sealing his hot mouth with yours, opening it wider with your tongue, so eager to taste him again after such a long wait.

"Mmhm," he purred into the kiss, his hands desperately wrapped around your waist, then going lower to cradle your hips, groping and squeezing a little too hard so that you had to bite his lip to make him stop, but the man just growled and pushed you closer, your groins rubbing against each other in the most lewd way possible. "Bedroom...go to the bedroom...and wait for me there."

Bateman's words right after the kiss sounded like nonsense, which you found oddly arousing. With a foxy smile, you licked his cheek, then his neck, almost biting the artery and sucking on the reading mark. "No, no, no, Bateman," you shook your head, grabbing his neck slightly to kiss him again, but he did it first. Even now Patrick was trying to take the lead, your tongues fighting for control like two snakes entwining around each other. "I'm in no mood for games or waiting."

The moment you said it, Bateman lifted you with practiced ease as if you weighed nothing, and you didn't even have a chance to protest as he began to move toward the closed room behind his white couch. In his arms, you finally felt complete, even if you let him take the lead for a while. Noticing the pair of panties on the glass coffee table, you wrapped your legs around him and buried your fingers in his silky hair, ruffling them and letting them fall on his forehead, making him look even hotter.

Jesus, you were on the verge of an explosion just from the foreplay alone.

Bateman's bedroom greeted you with stark white walls, the brightness of which was almost painful to look at as he turned on the light holding you with one arm, and the king-size bed on which he carefully placed you, but you didn't let him pull away, tugging at his tie and forcing him to lay on top of you.

"Fuck, look at you," Patrick grazed your earlobe before massaging your chest through your shirt and hovering over you. "So insatiable, aren't you? Running in circles like a trapped kitten."

Growling, you pulled him closer again to suck on his lower lip, letting your body rub against his so you could feel how hard he was, so painfully hard, considering the sound he made when you snaked your hand between his legs to cradle his bulge. "Are you gonna cum in your pants if I don't stop?"

With a determined persistence, you continued to massage his hard cock through the layers of his expensive clothes as you removed his jacket and then his suspenders, one by one. Bateman didn't interfere as he was also busy getting rid of your clothes without actually tearing them apart.

"Let me," you insisted as soon as you noticed him struggling to unbutton your shirt. "This is my favorite shirt, you know," you gasped, your own fingers trembling, making it difficult even for you to finally remove your shirt. "I don't want it to get torn."

When you finally got rid of the top part of your clothes, the sight of your exposed skin made Patrick grunt in hunger, and the next second the man was already sucking on your nipple, his muscular frame shaking on top of you from your teasing ministrations on his twitching dick and hard balls. Damn, you wanted to suck him dry as much as you wanted to ruin him until he forgot his own name.

"Don't like it anyway," Bateman muttered suddenly, holding your hands above your head. "You need to go to some... fashion shows... maybe you will have more free time in Chicago, considering Paul Allen offered you this job. I'm sure it would be some boring shit."

‘Good Lord, he mentioned him again…’ You rolled your eyes and turned away from his face, eliciting a low rumble from Patrick's massive chest. "What the fuck is wrong with Paul... are you... jealous of him or something?"

"Me?" he asked, confused and you took the opportunity to release your hands and roll over so that you were now on top of him. "I'm not the one bragging about having dinner with him in fucking Dorsia!"

Bateman sounded like a little boy who was upset that no one wanted to play with him, which made you giggle, but then you straddled him and opened his white shirt and removed his tie.

"The more you talk," you murmured as you ran your hands along the smooth skin of his torso, paying special attention to his toned pecs and abs. "The more you make me think you two had a history," you leaned down to teasingly lick his lips, your sneaky hands already working on the zipper of his pants. "But still, I don't care." In one swift motion, you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, watching his thick cock pop out, yearning for your attention. "Mhmm, the last time we were alone you worked me up really good, I wanna return the favor," your hands wrapped around the base of his beefy shaft, the small droplets of his pre-cum already covering its tip, forcing you to lick your lips in hunger. "If you have nothing else on your mind?"

Did you really care about his feelings since you asked him that question? 

The man beneath you was definitely growing impatient, his hands gripping your hips as if he was about to imprint his fingerprints on your skin if you were not wearing your pants. 

"Lie on your side," Bateman suggested suddenly. "Take off all your clothes and lie down here," he tapped the spot next to him and you stood up quickly, as if he had cast a spell on you. Never in your life did you get rid of your clothes faster than now. "Uh, what a cute ass you have, (y/n)."

You frowned at his words, giving him your dead stare as you slipped out of your underwear, giving him the full view—the glint in his hazel eyes was too much to ignore—so you turned around and presented yourself to him; Bateman couldn't help but lazily stroked himself, putting a hand under his head. 

"Tell me, Bateman," you began, your hands slowly sliding down your bare skin. "Have you been thinking about me all this time?" You cupped your ass, bending over a little so he could see the spot right between your legs. "Or have you found a way to forget things you don't want to remember?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. "I wish there was a way to forget." Patrick murmured and watched as you lay on your side in the 69 position, then he did the same, his hot breath scorching the soft flesh between your thighs. 

You wrapped your hands around his hips and eagerly took his drooling dick in your mouth, while he was lapping at your crotch. "Mm-fuck," you jerked against his face, your fingers digging deeper into his skin as Bateman feasted on you like the most delicious meal. "Me too, Bateman, m-me too."

Having said that, you swirled your tongue around the swollen tip of his veiny cock, causing a muffled moan to erupt from his mouth, its vibration sending shivers down the base of your spine, only spurring you on to go further, pushing his dick deeper into your mouth. Soon the room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of your shared oral pleasure, punctuated by soft but powerful moans and groans as you both teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Gripping your ass, Bateman responded to your actions with the same passion, devouring every drop of your flavor and giving you no chance to escape, his strong arms like ropes around your body. After giving his cock the attention it deserved, you decided to tease his heavy balls with light lapping on them, before slipping a finger inside his tight ass, you expected him to protest but instead you heard him moan and the next moment his hips began to move towards your penetrating movements.

"Good boy," you praised him, rolling your eyes at the way the man was sucking on your most sensitive spot. "Taking my finger so well..."

The coil in your lower abdomen was about to snap at any moment, but you still wanted more, you wanted to feel that cock inside you, even if it was going to rip you a apart. Breathlessly, you didn't even remember asking him about condoms, and how you managed to get out of bed and go to the closet, where you found a little box Bateman was talking about—its contents almost made you gasp in awe, so you decided to take it with you.

"Well, well," you crooned as you stepped back into the bedroom. "Should I ask you what this is or are you going to tell me?"

With a wide grin, you held out a large purple dildo, Patrick's eyes twitched and he gulped, leaning on his elbows. "I... I use it with hookers," the man confessed, licking his glistening lips covered with your juices. "Why?"

"Hmmm, you like watching women play with it?" You asked as you reached the bed. "How about actually using it and not just watching?"

Damn, you could swear you saw his breath catch in his throat, his muscles tense and his dick throbbing just at the mention of using that sex toy on him. 'So he likes that idea, what a naughty boy,' you chuckled to yourself and took your place on the bed next to him. "This is going to feel so good, baby," you brought the dildo to his lips, suggesting that he lick it for lubrication, and when he did, you could barely keep yourself from cumming, just from the sight of his tongue flicking around the tip of the silicone sex toy. "Get on your knees and let me take care of you."

"Fuck," Bateman cursed, but it was too late to turn back. Embarrassed but extremely aroused, the man got down on all fours and gave you full access to his firm ass, which you immediately fondled, spreading his buttocks and biting them one by one. "Mmh-hmm, (y/n)."

"Relax," you stroked his hips, kissing the lower part of his back just above the dimples that were too sexy to ignore. "God, you have such a beautiful body," you decided to praise him, knowing the effect it would have on him. "I would worship it forever if I could," which was only half true, or maybe...it was not. Leisurely, you showered his soft skin with little peaks here and there, dotting it with your marks of love, not even realizing that you were giving all of yourself to the process.

As you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered muscle ring, Patrick tensed at your touch, gripping the sheets and closing his eyes, so overwhelmed and confused at the same time, but your reassuring hand on his trembling one encouraged him to look back at you as you hovered over him to kiss his lips, his neck, his shoulder.

"(Y/n)," Bateman suddenly huffed through his clenched teeth. "I want you to..." he gasped as you flickered your wet finger around his tight asshole. "...fuck."

"You want me to feast on that delicious ass of yours?" You finished the sentence for him, grinning in pure gratification at his complete submission. "Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, y-yes," he grasped the sheets and positioned himself more comfortably on all fours— a clear sign that he was not used to this position and you couldn't miss it. "I want to feel your tongue... all over me."

"Shit, Bateman, you're a real sweet talker." With that you put the dildo on the bed next to you and before you knew it you were spreading his ass cheeks wide open to make a flat lick along his tight hole. "I wanna hear you," you gently but insistently probed his ass with your warm tongue, giving him several slaps on the buttocks that drove the man wild as you felt his velvet walls tighten around your tongue. "Good boy, c'mon, spread it out for me."

Blushing, Patrick used both hands to spread himself for your eager ministrations as you fucked him with your tongue while your hands traveled all around his hips before you wrapped one of them around his pulsating cock, fuck, he was so close, you could tell by the way his balls tensed when you gave them a slight squeeze.

"Don't cum until I let you," you commented and the next moment you were already pushing the sleek sex toy into his ass and this time he accepted it gradually, taking it in with ease—the sight made you gasp but you focused on giving him pleasure. "Tell me, Bateman, how does it feel?"

The question remained unanswered for a brief moment as you began to slid the dildo in and out, stimulating his prostate and causing him to shake and whimper in pure bliss, but when you decided to add fuel to the fire by jerking him off and sucking on his strained sac, Patrick could barely contain himself, his legs about to give way at any moment.

"F-fuck, a-aahhh, mmhhmm," he murmured into the pillow, his hands finding their way to your messy hair, gripping them almost to the point of pain. "I...c-can't...hold...it any longer," Bateman's wailing bounced off the walls of his luxurious bedroom, which had never seen anything like it before. "I..."

Though you wanted him to last longer, you were too overwhelmed yourself, feeling the string in your belly ready to burst. "Let it go," your words were like a balm to his ears as, just a moment later, his cock pulsed in your grasp, spraying loads of his thick cum across the Chinese sheets that Patrick had always been so fond of. "That's it…" You didn't stop fucking him with a dildo, nor did you stop pumping his throbbing dick, milking it until the last drop of his seed. "Good boy, you're such a good boy." 

Panting, you pulled out the sex toy, covered in his slick, and brought it to his trembling lips, inducing him to suck it before taking it into your mouth, feeling the mixture of tastes on the tip of your tongue. Then, Bateman rolled onto his back, desperately gasping for air, his cock still hard. That was fucking phenomenal, but you didn't comment, thinking about your own orgasm at last. Locking your eyes with Patrick's hazel ones, you touched yourself the moment he beckoned you over, and without words, you mounted his flushed, sweaty face, riding it as desperately as you could, using his tongue and lips without shame. Tilting your head back, you grabbed his head and almost clawed at his scalp, feeling your insides about to fucking explode from the tension. So when you peaked, your scream could be heard all over Bateman's apartment. The orgasms you had before were nothing compared to this. It took everything from you, it made you die and rise again.

The final chord of the parade of shameless lust was when you let him fuck you in a way you didn't even expect. Spooning you from behind after he put the condom on, the man lifted your leg and sheathed himself inside of you till the hilt, making you feel so full you had to wrinkle the fabric underneath, but that was just the beginning as Bateman pulled you closer, trapping you in his arms like a cocoon, his tongue sliding around your ear shell with undisguised affection,

"Mmhmm, fuck, you're...so perfect," the man whispered into your ear, setting up the pace and resting his hand between your legs for extra stimulation. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming again, omh-shit..."

"Fuck m-me, yeah, just...l-like that...a-ahhh," you coaxed him to fuck you harder as you suddenly found yourself on the verge of climaxing again. "Gimme everything, baby, a-awww...goshhhhhhhh," you were the first to fall over the principle of pleasure, twitching along his body as if you were hit by the electric shock, all your nerves were on fire. "Bateman, mmhm-fuck-fuck! Your dick feels s-so good.."

Your vivid orgasm became the last straw for his second release as you felt him bite at your neck, his buffed frame shaking in spasms of pure rapture, you even had to hold back a scream from how painfully Patrick's hands squeezed your hips, but it was pleasurable pain of being ruined, of being fucked into a wet mess. Barely breathing, you didn't even remember how you passed out from exhaustion and for the first time in the last few days you fell asleep completely satisfied and happy.

When the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds into Bateman's bedroom, you were already awake, as was he, but since you were lying with your back to his face, you didn't notice until the man kissed your shoulder, snuggled up against your neck, and made you roll over to face him.

As you did so, you dared to look directly into the brown eyes still clouded by the aftermath of your shared pleasure. "Hey." He muttered in a husky voice.

"Hey," you murmured back, hugging the pillow. "Did you sleep well?"

“Surprisingly—yes," the man stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and checking himself in the mirror on the other side of the room, which you hadn't even noticed. "(Y/n), I want you to go to the office and tell everyone that you're not going anywhere."

Shocked, you blinked several times, not knowing what to say as you hadn't expected anything like this.

With a nervous chuckle that turned into a hearty laugh, you rolled onto your back before sitting up on the bed. "Oh God, you're such a little Delulu, it's even funny," you looked at him—his face was nothing but a blank space without any visible emotions. "Did you really think that random sex would change my mind about changing jobs?" You chuckled again, louder this time. "I mean, the sex was really good, but... it's not like I'm going to give everything for this, you know?" With that, you got up from the bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself. "Can I take a shower?”

Trapped in the thought that only he could know, Patrick rolled onto his back, his eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling above him. "Yes," he murmured, barely audible. "Do whatever you want."

Walking towards the bathroom, you suddenly stopped and turned half around. "You better forget it," you said, savoring every word and finally returning the favor. "Maybe ask Paul Allen for advice," you grinned as you watched Bateman close his eyes in a feeble attempt to distance himself from everything that had happened. "Maybe he knows something about memory reboot machines that can help."

Without waiting for his answer, you continued on your way to the bathroom. Even though you were pleased with yourself, your revenge didn't taste sweet, but bitter, and its bitterness would remain on the tip of your tongue even after you washed yourself clean under the hot streams of water.

But the game was worth the candle, as they said.

Was it?

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[sutorus]

imagine having a sleep over at megumis and toji decides to steal you away once he finally passes out 😮‍💨 his shirts and sweats probably have cigarettes burns in them

you gave me sm toji brain rot

-🫧 anon

we gave each other toji brainrot anon 🤝 kind of a part 2 to the kinktober toji fic

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, unprotected, mild daddy kink, some anal play, degradation, toji being toji

you’re shifting on your feet, lips trapped between your teeth as you ring the doorbell. you’re early to the sleepover by a full hour.

you don’t know what you want to expect. if it’s toji, sitting on the couch, glass of some cheap shit on the armrest and hand tucked into his sweats.

or if it’s megumi, waiting at the door, bowl of popcorn by his hip and tv blasting because his dad isn’t home to scowl about the noise.

megumi does open the door. and toji does sit there.

and somehow, that’s the least likely, worst case scenario.

“hey,” megumi greets you, stepping aside to let you in.

toji doesn’t spare you a glance, so you let your eyes travel all over him. his bare feet propped up on the center table, his arm behind his head and fingers scratching his hair.

megumi notices you looking and — thankfully — only clicks his tongue, believing you’re just as irritated at his father’s presence as he is.

and are you? you’re unsure.

you don’t know how to face toji. you don’t know how to interact with him anymore, if you even should.

you sleep over at megumi’s house all the time, but right now you suddenly forgot how it even goes. do you take your shoes off at the genkan? do you leave your bag by the door?

you decide to just walk to megumi’s room wordlessly, taking the long way behind the couch as to not block toji’s view from the tv.

this doesn’t go unnoticed by either men.

megumi follows you inside, closing the door behind him and plopping down on his bed.

“so are we starting with the first movie?” he flips his laptop open. “it’s the best one, anyway.”

“uh, yeah, sure,” you sit down beside him hesitantly.

you’re just now noticing how much megumi and toji look alike and it’s freaking you out.

“what the fuck is wrong with you today?” blunt as always. blunt as toji.

“huh? dude, chill,” you lie down, placing the laptop on your lap. megumi eyes you suspiciously before lying down beside you. “i just didn’t sleep much last night.”

“right,” he says, skeptical but disinterested, and presses play.

every minute of the movie is torture — on the screen and in your head.

around the beginning of saw iii, megumi orders pizza. him, you and toji eat in silence.

complete silence. he doesn’t even look at you.

why isn’t he looking at you? you’re in your pajamas already. no bra. short shorts. you thought you’d both established that that worked on him.

toji wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up, with a grunted clean up when you’re done.

it’s so frustrating, the total lack of attention, and you’re starting to get pent up. settling back down next to megumi to watch fucking saw iv and hear him question the viability of each trap drives you crazier by the minute.

when you finally tuck in for the night, you’re anything but relaxed.

what happened to “you have one more hole for me to wreck don’t you”? toji’s so full of shit, probably too drunk to even get it up tonight anyway.

it’s those angry thoughts that lull you to slumber, regret settling deep in your gut for having ever let that horrible man inside you.

not long after you fall asleep, however, you’re stirred awake, a soft, sake-soaked breeze blowing over your face.

you crack one eye open, no surprise in your gaze because who else could it be.

toji’s smirking, crouched down, eyes searching all over your sleeping form. it sends a chill down your spine.

what do you want, you mouth to him, anger persisting against the arousal already starting to build within you.

his grin grows wider, wilder. he gets up slowly and beckons with two fingers, and like the silly fucking slut you are, you follow.

you — not toji — make sure to gingerly close the door to megumi’s room before you turn around to face him. or rather, face his chest, the flimsy cloth littered with cigarette burns that covers those muscles you finally got to know so well.

“hello?” is all you can manage to say.

he loves your indignation, loves the brattiness, will love to fuck it out of you tonight, too.

“what, don’t want it?”

you roll your eyes.

“you had to wait until megumi’s right there to say you wanna do it?” your focus wavers as he runs his hands up and down your waist. “you couldn’t have pulled me aside before?”

toji presses his leer to the side of your throat, caging you in against the wall right by the door. you let out a soft moan, hands already reaching for his arms.

“had to make sure you two weren’t gettin’ it on,” he growls into the crock of your neck, making you grimace in disgust. “i don’t like to share my toys, y’know.”

“ew, he’s your son,” the irony in your statement isn’t lost on you, the person you should actually be ewing at.

you push him away and the feeling of his abs under your palms is enough to break any rest of resolve you had in you.

toji lets out a low, satisfied laugh, throwing his head back. “exactly why i worry.”

soon enough, and unsusprisingly, he has you bent over the kitchen island, pussy stretched out and dripping on his thick cock.

“shut the fuck up,” he keeps saying when you moan, only to fuck you harder and faster and deeper.

the furniture is digging into your belly, your forearms skidding on the top. you whine softly, angling your hips so he can hit that one spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“ohhh yeah, fuck back into me,” he grabs your hair and you let out a yelp, punished with a blow to your ass. still, you do as you’re told, the sounds of your skin slapping against his growing louder, quicker.

“t-touch me, touch me, make me cum,” you beg in a desperate whisper, head straining in his grip.

toji laughs, dragging his cock out of you slowly before plunging all the way back in.

“shut up, slut,” and god, why is that so hot to you, “last i checked you weren’t in a position to make demands.”

you whimper, trying to snake a hand down your clit to do it yourself.

suddenly, toji stops.

“ah, that reminds me,” he slowly, torturously slowly to make you feel every inch of him, pulls out of you completely. then he pokes your asshole with the head of his cock.

“no,” you say in a panicked breath, trying to turn around in his grip. “no, no, not today, definitely not right now no—“

“shhh, fuck, be quiet,” he wraps his entire forearm around your throat and brings your body into his chest, nibbling at your jaw. “you’re gonna like it.”

“i don’t want to,” it’s one last attempt, the most honest one you have. toji likes fucking with you, flustering you, that much is obvious.

but is he seriously— and without any prep, too?—

he chuckles low in his throat, right into your ear.

“then ask me not to.”

he slides the tip back into your cunt and you relax a little, even moving your hips back and forth like hey! look how good my pussy is! can you just stay in it and not ruin my ass please!

“please don’t fuck my ass,” you try.

“hmm,” he hums, sliding his cockhead out. then back in. then back out.

“please, toji, don’t fuck my asshole tonight,” you clench around him, trying to take more of his length inside.

“not good enough, whore,” he slams all way back in, shoving your body into the sharp wood and making you wail. toji starts moving, fucking little noises out of you with every thrust. “say, ‘no please daddy not there, not my little asshole!’”

you let out a long, pitchy whine, clawing at the arm around your neck.

“do it or else,” toji gathers up some wetness at your entrance with your thumb and presses it to your asshole, rubbing little wet circles.

“fuck you, toj—ahh,” his finger slips inside and you clench down hard. “please! please daddy not there, not my—“

toji cackles, fucking you in earnest now, plowing every word and thought out of your brain. you’re grunting with the force of his thrusts, finding purchase in the edges of the kitchen island, knuckles turning white.

“such a good little girl, aren’t ya,” he says into the shell of your ear, snaking a hand around your hip to rub your puffy clit.

you throw your head back onto his shoulder, legs shaking in between his. “ahhh, fuck, d-daddy—“

your orgasm washes over you so forcefully that you feel like folding in two, going limp in toji’s grip as he chases his own.

he buries a few low, animalistic grunts into your hair before he’s filling up your cunt, aborted little thrusts pushing out staccato breaths from his lips.

he releases his grip on you, cock still spurting out the rest of his load.

once he pulls out, toji keeps feeding his cum into your pussy over and over, telling you to watch the floors before you have to limp your way to the bathroom to clean up.

you do the best you can without taking a shower, body so thoroughly exhausted that you don’t even know if you’d have the energy for one.

right now, all you want is to plop down on a soft surface and get some much needed sleep, feeling actually satisfied.

when you leave the bathroom, you’re faced with a groggy, disheveled megumi standing by his bedroom door.

your eyes quickly scan your surroundings.

toji is nowhere to be seen.

megumi’s eyes reveal nothing, none of the thoughts that might be going through his head right now.

as for you, there’s only one word bouncing around inside your skull:

fuck.

a/n sorry again

[hotxcheeto]

im begging for a fic with ellie about tribbing i don't even care about the plot at this point i just an ellie fic with scissoring

━ 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀, 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ?

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, ex gf!ellie, angst here and there, SMUT, tribbing, kissing/make out session, lowkey toxic behavior, mentions and situations with alcohol, both ellie and reader are tipsy, party environment in the first 1/2, top!ellie, bottom!reader

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - ehhehehehehe i love olivia rodrigo so i had to bruh REQUESTS ARE OPEN NOW!

REBLOG MY WORK! I WORK HARD & IT'S APPRECIATED!!

Music bumped in the room on the other side of the wall that supported the upper cabinet that held your head. The smell of sweat, alcohol and cigarettes filled up the small kitchen to the brim while a few people laughed and chugged the concoction in the punch bowl that sat on the corner countertop.

Other than the patrons drinking themselves into a very horrible morning that was soon to come, there was a couple making out against the fridge. Bothering anyone that wanted to drink something other than what the party host called, 'the ultimate punch to the gut' that the college boys were frothing over.

You decided on something else that you'd scavenged from the liquor cabinet that had been broken into earlier in the night. The liquid a pink color, bubbling from the continued sloshing in your red solo cup that was lazily hanging from your hand.

Your head felt dizzy at all the uproar in the room, the only thing keeping your two feet flat on the ground was the girl in front of you. Chasing your gaze with her head that way with each direction you looked, her eyes weren't far behind to follow.

"I told you I'm done, Ellie. I'm sick of your shit." You slurred slightly, having swayed your hips on far too many people and had too many drinks to care about how you currently sounded.

Or looked for that matter, lipstick smudged across your lips and even had made its way off your mouth. Eye makeup mirroring the appearance of the lower half of your face and all the while your dress was halfway up your thighs from her prying and your continuous attempts to stop yourself from making a decision you'd regret.

"You're a fakeass bitch, y'know that?" You pointed at her, the manicure that she had in fact paid for practically mocking her as she grabbed your hand and pushed it down, holding it in her own.

"Don't be like that, babe." You rolled your eyes at just the sound of her voice, suddenly hearing it and comparing it to the biggest annoyance in the world. "You were like that first, or did you already discard the lap warmer you were entertaining when I walked in?"

Right, the bottle blonde with the bad roots.

"Y/n..." She dragged out your name with that excruciating tone that made you feel like you'd done something bad. "Answer me Ellie."

She opened and closed her mouth for a second, not meeting your eyes before shrugging her shoulders. The black fabric of her long sleeve button up going with, pissing you off even more as the realization set in that she'd worn your favorite of her nice shirts and even undone the top few buttons you always undid for her.

"She's one of Abby's friends, fuck Y/n, I don't even know her name I promise." You scoffed, leaning your head back on the cupboard, looking over at the drunk guys challenging each other to drink a full cup of the punch once again.

"You piss me off." You rubbed your eyes, not caring of the slight burn that your lashes caused on your irises. "I know. C'mon, I said sorry." She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You sent me fifty-eight text messages, I don't remember there being a 'sorry' in there though." "Babe-" Ellie stopped when she realized you were in fact not paying any attention to her now, looking out the kitchen window, but it was too dark to actually see anything past the glass.

"C'mon... let's just go home, I'll give you the best apology fucking ever." The alcohol really boosted her confidence as she said this, Ellie moving to kiss up your neck as you thought, her thumb coming to wipe the smeared lipstick away.

"I promise, babe." You wanted to fall against her and give in, just how you wanted when you seen her earlier eye-fucking you from across the room. Fucking hell you were such a gullible mess.

"Ellie..." "Can't tell me you don't miss my fingers..." "Shh!"

You tried covering her mouth but it was no use as she just laughed, looking down at your pretty eyes while you tried to shut her up.

"I don't, mine work just fine, actually." Such fakeness followed those syllables, even you cringed slightly on the inside as you spoke them.

"Huh, so you're lying to me now too?"

"No..." Yes.

"You're a bad liar." She then whispered, impossible to hear her if you had not been so close to her mouth. "You're a dickhead." You then replied, giving her a smile while pulling back.

That was nothing to her, leaning forward despite your unwillingness just earlier, but something about the way you met her lips wondered if you changed your mind.

She tasted like the shitty alcohol mix those dudes were chugging along with soaked in Chapstick and the two combined creating a rush of memories that came trickling back. Those pictures soon invading your mind all the same, fingers wrapping around her belt loops before you got a chance to stop them.

And in the haze of the smoky kitchen you broke your promise to each of your friends promising you wouldn't go back. Tugging her closer and allowing her to rest her hands beneath your ass, holding the backs of your thighs to get impossibly closer.

She was your everything and nothing, the mess stuck between your floorboards that you could never fully get rid of. Ellie knew she wasn't going anywhere, she couldn't and wouldn't be replaced and it was comforting, smirking as she began pushing herself against you and hitting your hips against the counter.

"M'not-" A kiss. "-gonna fuck you-" Another kiss. "-here." You finished, her tongue invading your mouth as soon as the final breath passed your lips. "Why not?" "Seriously?" Ellie rested her forehead against your own, huffing like a child until you tapped her phone that was in her back pocket.

"You can start your apology by buying the ride home, 'kay?"

God, the things she did to see you as you were now, laid back on the bed with your dress pulled up and your head resting against her pillows. Thighs spread all for her while you stared up and watched her unbuckle her belt and unzip her jeans. Wanting nothing more than to have her between your thighs

You just looked so gorgeous in the lamplight, the yellow glow kissing your skin and she moved to kiss it as well. Wanting just as much as the inanimate object had gotten in the past few moments.

"M'gonna be so mad at myself in the morning." You grumbled playfully, Ellie watching you grin at your own prediction, returning the smile while throwing her shirt away and exposing her torso for you to run your eyes over. "But I don't even care." You concluded.

Your nail ran along the light bulge her muscles created on her arms, eyes fluttering shut while her lips made their home on your neck. Jaw becoming her favorite place to hover, smirking against your flesh when you giggled that it had tickled. Looking at the way her boxers met her lower back, little dimples just barely shadowed.

"Ellie?" She pulled back to look at you, cradling your face in her hands.

"Yeah?"

"Unzip me, I wanna feel you."

She didn't have to be told twice, helping you from your dress before tossing it to find the next morning. Your undergarments going with, swept away like they were stolen by the ocean. Your body running against hers as if you were the waves and she were the rocks, though less jagged then you'd like to admit out loud.

Her curves were softer than you remembered despite feeling them just days ago, along with her freckled skin.

"I want you." She whispered, mouth brushing against the shell of your ear.

Your friends were so gonna put you in time out.

Her boxers fell down her legs and yours wrapped around her hips, waiting for the agonizing thumping of your arousal to be put at ease. The discomfort growing while her fingers ran along your nipple, warm breath fanning your face as you both watched her hand run along your boob.

It was like the air paused along with your movements, sucking in a gasp as she played with your breast. Hand trickling down between your legs just to barely tease you.

"You wanna feel me?" You nodded at her question, moving your head up and down again and again while she lined herself up with you. Fingers lightly, just barely, brushing against your little, yet swollen, clit.

"Need to hear you say it again, Y/n."

"I wanna feel you, Ellie."

And before you knew it she was humping herself against you, not even attempting to muffle your sounds which you'd given up caring about. Grabbing at her back and holding her as close to you as possible while her clit bumped and rubbed against your own.

It felt like fireworks, despite having done this just over a million times. Burying your face in her neck while she fucked into you over and over, promising her love silently while whispering things that would make a catholic mother weep.

"Missed you so much..." You turned your head, meeting her eyes as your lips did the same. "Me or this?" You asked, a choked whimper following when she became rougher at the sound of your falsely innocent question. Her hand trapping your leg on the bed as she spread you apart.

"Both, but mainly you." She played off, her other hand softly wrapping around your neck. "I would hope." You giggled, mouth dropping agape as her pace picked up. The whole bed rocking back and forth while simultaneous creaks that were sure to piss off her neighbors for the next however long she spent on top of you.

"Oh fuck, El... fuck please..." You squeezed and clawed at her, sure to leave red marks on her pale skin for her to be teased about when she went to the gym. Cunts grinding back and forth creating a heavenly feeling you just couldn't describe, choking out noise after noise.

"El... m'gonna- fuck I- fuck..." She kissed along the column of your throat, squeezing just the slightest. "I know." From your hole to your bundle of nerves, in your slightly inebriated state it felt like too much.

Sounds you weren't aware you could make falling from your mouth, and you were sure you heard her lightly grunt. Hips stuttering as you'd begun to jerk against her pussy, letting out a yelp while you trickled into your orgasm.

A mix of both you and her dripping down your ass, but it didn't stop you from trying to meet her thrusts. Crying a bit when she slammed you back down, kissing you and then down your chest.

"Leah's gonna be so pissed at me." You huffed, staring up at the ceiling as she peeled herself off of you and fell to the side. Giving you the option of moving to lay with her or finding your way the hell out of here.

"Who cares? Come ride me." She said, sitting up against her pillows that laid against her headboard. "Seriously?' You tilted your head up to glance at her, giving her your best unimpressed expression.

"What? Can't take it back anyway."

This was a bad idea, right?

"Will you eat me out after?" You asked, tilting your head and then rolling over to make your way up to her. "If you do a good job." She said, setting her hands on your hips.

Fuck it, it's fine.

a/n: YES I KNOW THAT SHE'S MY EX BUT CAN'T TWO PEOPLE RECONNECT I ONLY SEE HER AS A FRIEND! BIGGEST LIE I EVER SAID.

REQUESTS OPEN

[lionneee]

Little Princess

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: taking of sexual themes, drinking, smoking, smut, age difference.•

Previous part <- Current part

Modern!Father’s!Best!Friend!Aemond x Fem!Reader

Aemond didn’t know why he did that.

He also didn’t expect to feel such a bastard for turning you down for your own good.

He sighed and rubbed his temple as he took another sip of his bourbon.

He was tired.

He groaned loudly as he heard the doorbell ring, and he got out of his office to see who was here to annoy him.

He took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Please don’t be here again.

“Alys.” His voice was a grunt of surprise, his expression pure annoyance. “If you’re here to fuck, it won’t happen.”

He grunted as he turned his back at her and walked deeper in the house, leaving the door open for her.

“I’m not here for that. We’ve already done it after breaking up.” She smirked at her own teasing as she followed him inside. “I’m here to talk.”

“Not in the mood for that too.” He said as he grabbed another glass, and filled it with some other alcohol.

He didn’t even care what he drank, he didn’t even look.

It could have been bleach and he would have been fine with that.

“You messed up.” She stated as she moved closer, grabbing the same bottle he poured and read the label. “And since you’re drinking when it’s ten in the morning, I suppose you don’t even know how to fix it.” She put down the bottle and walked to his couch, sitting down and lighting herself a cigarette.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He hummed as he took another sip of his drink, the alcohol burning his throat, but he accepted the pain like it was his medicine. “And I’ve already fixed it.” He added, looking back at her.

She raised her pack of cigarettes and he sighed, taking one.

“You think that rejecting the daughter of your best friend after fucking her in secret will fix it?” She raised her eyebrow, looking at his deliveshed appearance as she took a puff of her cigarette.

Messy air, like someone that had passed his hands in them too much, and some sweater suit, that she knew he reserved only for moments when he felt like disappearing from the world.

“I think I have less problems now.” He said as he smoked.

“Do you?”

“Why are you here, Alys?” He sighed, feeling more annoyed than anything. She pressed her lips together and turned her head to the side.

“Me and Criston are together.” She said.

Aemond looked at her.

Her and Criston.

He couldn’t help but start laughing.

It was ridiculous just the idea, they were too different.

She cared too much about appearance, and looking perfect, too active in the nights for Criston.

Criston just wanted to settle and relax.

Criston just wanted to raise his daughter with Dayana, and have a happy life.

Aemond rubbed his temples with his fingers as he felt a headache coming just at the thought of how he fucked up his life.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Alys hissed at him, turning her eyes back at him.

“Yeah, well, you knew how I was when you fell in love with me.” He answered back, looking up at her.

She clenched her jaw and stood up, fixing her skirt, as Aemond simply watched her.

“You know losing an eye doesn’t give you the right to be a bastard your whole life, right?”

Aemond glared daggers at her, but she simply stared back, then she walked out of his house.

Aemond walked in the kitchen and threw the cigarette in the sink, then clenched his hands into fists, so much that the glass broke in his hand, cutting his skin.

He hissed in pain and opened his hand, letting the shards of the glass fall in the sink.

“Fuck.”

You kept jumping your leg up and down nervously as you sat at the table with your father.

“I never wanted to disappoint you.” You sobbed. “I swear, dad, I love you! I-I am so grateful for everything you gave me, the life you provided me-“ You stopped yourself as you sobbed. “I never wanted to hurt you.” You bit your lip as you looked at your father, as he clasped his hands together over the table.

“I know, kid, I know.” He sighed. “It was…” He looked away for a moment, shaking his head. “Terrifying, seeing you in your bed with… with Aemond.” He growled his name.

Even hearing his name pained you.

“I-I thought…” You took a deep breath. “I thought we loved each other.” You looked away too. “It was stupid.” You said then, realizing how lame it sounded.

“It’s not stupid to love someone, kid.” Your father said firmly, slowly, making sure you would understand his words. 

“Its stupid to love Aemond.” She said, looking up at him. 

The side of your fathers mouth twitched, an amused smile spreading on his face.

“Yeah, don’t tell me about it. He’s my best friend, remember?” He humoured. You smiled too, nodding.

“Yeah, I remember.” You leaned forward on the table, looking back at him. “Do you forgive me?” You asked with a trembling voice, looking at him, your eyes full of hope and regret.

“I do, kid.” He leaned forward too, covering your hands with his. “I… I have something to tell you too…” He admitted.

You furrowed your brows, curious of what he had to say.

“You killed my cactus?” You smiled, making him chuckle.

“No, no, even if sometimes I think it moves on itself only to sting me.” He sighed with a smile.

“No, it’s about me… and Alys.” He said, looking closely at your reaction.

“Alys?” A shiver ran down your body, jealousy spreading in your chest as you remembered when Aemond brought her home.

“Yes, me and her…” He blushed a bit as he tried to contain a bigger smile. “We are… a couple. I like her a lot.”

“What?” You were stunned. “I-I thought… she and Aemond had… something.” You stuttered.

“No, I mean, yes, but it was a long time ago.” He squeezed her hands. “It happened so suddenly, I wasn’t even looking for someone… After your mother, I thought I would never know love again.” He smiled to himself. “But she… she is beautiful, strong, independent and beautiful…”

“Yeah, you said that.” You smiled and your father chuckled. “It’s okay dad. I’m happy if you’re happy.” You nodded and he smiled at you.

“Come here, kid.” He stood up and walked to you, you quickly stood as well too, melting in his embrace, snuggling your face in his chest.

“I love you.” He kissed the top of your head.

“I love you too.”

Aemond stood by the window after Alys left, his mind spiraling back to the chaos he had caused. He had thought pushing you away would save everyone pain, but he felt emptier than ever. Criston had warned him, time and again, that you were off-limits, that messing with his best friend’s daughter would only lead to disaster. Yet Aemond hadn’t listened.

His phone buzzed on the counter. Hesitant, he picked it up and saw Criston’s name flash across the screen. The message was brief but filled with fury:

«We need to talk. Now.»

Aemond knew this conversation had been brewing since the moment he’d crossed that line with you. There was no more avoiding it. He slipped on a jacket and left the house, the knot in his chest tightening with every step towards the bar where he, Criston and Dyana would spend most of their evenings and nights when they were young.

When he arrived at the doorstep, he paused, he saw Criston sat at the counter with a drink in front of him, eyes down. He sighed and walked in, sitting beside him, giving the bartender a nod to have the same drink his friend had. When he turned to Criston, his face was set in a cold, unreadable expression, but his eyes betrayed him. Anger simmered beneath the surface, barely restrained.

Criston took a sip of his drink and turned to face him. “What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was low but trembling with restrained fury. “You were supposed to be her goddamn protector, Aemond. You were supposed to keep her safe, not… not use her.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Aemond immediately corrected him, though the words felt hollow in his mouth. He knew they wouldn’t ease Criston’s anger.

Criston scoffed, shaking his head, trying to contain his rage. “What was it, then? You seduced her, slept with her, and then what? Tossed her aside like she meant nothing? She’s my daughter, Aemond!” His voice cracked, and the pain in it hit Aemond harder than any physical blow.

Aemond ran a hand through his hair, unsure of what to say. “I tried to end it more times than you think.” He shook his head. “But… she is… she’s just…” He sighed. “It wasn’t easy.”

Because I wanted to fuck her every time I saw her.

Because I’m sick, and the same woman I saw grow up, I end up fuck too.

Criston’s eyes flashed, his hands clenched into fists. 

Criston leaned back, staring at Aemond with a look that was a mix of anger, disappointment, and something deeper, something more broken. “I trusted you with her, Aemond. I trusted you like a brother. But after this…” He sighed, shaking his head again. “I don’t know if we can ever go back to how things were. Not after what you did.”

Aemond’s chest tightened at those words, the weight of them crushing him. He knew this was the cost of his actions, but hearing it from Criston himself made the loss all too real. He hadn’t just lost you, he’d lost the only family he had left outside of his own blood.

“I’m sorry,” Aemond said quietly, though he knew the words would do little to ease the hurt.

Criston stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as if the weight of their conversation had finally taken its toll. He looked down at Aemond, his face hardened with resolve. “You’re not the one who needs to hear that apology, Aemond. She is. You’re going to talk to her, and you’re going to explain yourself. “ He sighed. “Do you even love her?”

Aemond froze at Criston’s question, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn’t expected that, hadn’t expected to be asked outright if he loved you. But there it was, hanging in the air between them like a sword poised to fall.

Did he love you? He didn’t know if he even understood what love meant anymore. He’d been drawn to you in ways that terrified him, ways that made him feel like he was drowning every time he was near you. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop wanting you, hadn’t been able to stay away despite knowing how wrong it was. But love?

“I…” Aemond began, his voice faltering as he searched for the right words. He wanted to lie, to say that it had meant nothing, that he could walk away without looking back. But that would be a lie, one Criston would see through immediately. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if it was love… or if it was just… something else.”

Criston’s face twisted with disgust at his hesitation, his fists clenching tighter. “Something else? Something else?” he repeated, his voice rising. “You mean lust. That’s all it was to you, wasn’t it?”

Aemond’s jaw tightened, shame burning through him. He didn’t have an answer that would satisfy Criston. He wasn’t even sure he had one for himself. All he knew was that the pull he felt toward you had consumed him in ways he hadn’t expected, and now, everything had crumbled because of it.

Criston shook his head in disbelief, the pain and betrayal etched deep in his features. “She’s not just some conquest, Aemond. She’s my daughter. She trusted you, and you… you broke her heart.”

Aemond’s throat tightened, the guilt threatening to choke him. He could see the depth of Criston’s hurt, could feel the weight of his own actions pressing down on him like a vice. He had betrayed the one person who had always stood by him, and for what? A momentary lapse in judgment? A desire he couldn’t control?

“I didn’t want this to happen,” Aemond said, his voice raw with regret. “I didn’t mean for it to get this far. But once it did… I couldn’t stop.”

Criston’s gaze hardened, his hands trembling with barely restrained fury. “You could have stopped,” he spat. “You should have stopped. You had a choice, Aemond. And you chose her. You chose to betray me.”

Aemond’s chest ached at those words, the truth of them cutting deeper than he’d anticipated. He had chosen you, again and again, despite knowing it would destroy everything. And now, the price of that choice was staring him in the face.

“I know I can’t fix this,” Aemond said quietly. “I know I can’t undo what I’ve done. But I will talk to her. I’ll tell her the truth. She deserves that much.”

Criston’s expression remained cold, unyielding. “You’re damn right she deserves the truth. But don’t expect her to forgive you. Don’t expect me to forgive you.”

Aemond nodded slowly, accepting the reality of the situation. He didn’t expect forgiveness. He didn’t deserve it.

Criston took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of their conversation seemed to settle over him. “You’ve lost me, Aemond,” he said softly, his voice laced with sadness. “But more than that, you’ve lost her. And I hope, for your sake, you understand what that really means. You stay away from her.”

Aemond watched in silence as Criston stood up and walked out of the bar, leaving him alone with the echo of those final words. The emptiness that followed was suffocating.

And for the first time in his life, Aemond wasn’t sure if he could live with the consequences of what he’d done.

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy @agoldenwoe

[27spoons]

CRUSH | ACT ONE: HOW CAN I MAKE IT OK?

pairing: natalie scatorccio/fem!reader

summary: A frustrating vending machine and a stolen BuzzBall draw you further into Natalie Scatorccio’s chaotic orbit.

wc: 5180

warnings: (TWO) uses of y/n im SORRY IT WONT HAPPEN AGAIN, reader is a bumbling idiot again whoops, petty theft, brief!reader alcohol consumption, slut-shaming(?)

a/n: am i allowed to say that this photo of sophie just does things to me or nah

ao3 / masterlist

PREVIOUS - ACT ONE: CIGARETTE DAYDREAMS

NEXT - ACT ONE: DO I WANNA KNOW?

The following week seems to drag on like any other, and, much to your surprise, your parents didn't question your absence from AP Chem that afternoon you ditched with Natalie. That had you wondering, could you do it again and get away with it? You've spent the majority of your life building us this carefully crafted persona—one that not a single person would guess would ever act out. If you did it again, would anyone raise an eyebrow at you? Would people believe whatever lie you fed them? That you were sick, had a headache, car troubles?

Either way, the thoughts linger. But you don't see Natalie again until the end of the week, loitering near the vending machines between classes, throwing her hands in the air in frustration and kicking one of them. "God fucking—!" She groans and kicks the machine again before turning around and leaning back against it. "Stupid fucking piece of shit vending machine…"

You hesitate, standing a good few feet away from her as she mutters something under her breath and slams her fist against the vending machine's glass. She looks just about ready to rip the machine apart. 

You hesitate, the door to the parking lot just a few steps away. Maybe you should keep walking, let her deal with the vending machine on her own. But then her eyes catch yours, and it’s already too late to slip away unnoticed.

“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help me?” she calls out, a teasing edge to her voice. She gestures dramatically to the machine, like it owes her something. Which, in a way, it does.

You step closer to her and the offending vending machine, "What happened?" "What happened?" Natalie scoffs, "What happened is this piece of shit—" She kicks the vending machine again, "vending machine stole my cash and didn't even spit out my fucking M&M's." She glances around, eyes landing on a fire extinguisher, eyes lighting up like she just got an idea.

"Nope!" You say immediately, fishing some loose change from your pocket, "Just… here. How much is it? Two dollars?" You place down a handful of quarters and dimes into her hand. "Just punch in for another one. Please don't break the machine." You glance around as if someone's watching the interaction, but the halls are empty.

Natalie stops and looks down at the change you've given her, back at you, the change, you, the change, then shrugs and slots the coins into the machine. "Fuckin' rich people…" Which seems to be her way of saying, "Thank you for not letting me break the vending machine because the last thing I need is another suspension," but what do you know?

You watch her stuck M&M's fall to the vending area alongside the bag behind it, meeting again at the bottom of the machine. "Fuck yeah." Natalie grins as she sticks her hand in, pulling out two bags of M&Ms. 

Naturally, you assume that Natalie will give you one of the bags.

Naturally, you're proven wrong as she stuffs one of the bags into her pocket, ripping the other open and dumping them right into her mouth. "Mmfanks, princess." She grins as she chews, and for a moment, you wonder if she's ever learned not to talk with her mouth full, but you quickly get your answer when she keeps talking. "Y'should be in class." 

You glance around, and that's when you realise why the halls are so empty. The bell rang a good five minutes ago. "Damn." You murmur, quickly stepping back and glancing toward your next class, when you hear a noise of disapproval coming from behind you.

"Where y'going?" She says, mouth no longer full of M&Ms. "You should just skip the rest of that day. Already running a little late, what's just… not going?" She shrugs.

You make your own noise of disapproval, "No, I… I would be skipping another chemistry class with Mr. Carr." You fidget, glancing between the direction of your class and Natalie.

"Okay…" She drawls, "Did he care last time?" 

"Uhm…" You shift awkwardly, staring at the floor now, "no…"

She hums, popping a single candy into her mouth, "Did your parents?"

You don't answer that—because the answer was also a no. You gave some excuse to your parents about not feeling well that block, and they believed you. And you're pretty sure you could just get the notes from today's class from that guy that sits across from you…

"Exactly." Natalie's voice cuts through the quiet, "You don't have any reason not to! No one gave a fuck. And you're, like, smart." She gestures at you, "I'm sure you can handle missing one class without your GPA dropping or whatever."

You open your mouth to retort, then click your tongue and cross your arms, a pout on your face. Usually, you could probably find some retort to that. But… maybe a part of you has already made your mind up for you.

"I… really shouldn't…" You murmur, trying to convince yourself that you should go to class.

"Yeah, you should." She rolls her eyes, tossing another M&M into her mouth, "Come on. Live a little. You keep letting this…" She gestures to nothing, "Fear control you; you're never actually gonna live!" Natalie laughs to herself, "Dude. Princess. Come on. What's one class? At the end of the day?"

You're about ninety percent sure she used that logic last time.

That being said, you've never been that good at putting your foot down before.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, "Dammit." With a resigned shake of your head, you look up at Natalie, who has a smug grin on her face as if she already knew your answer. "Fine."

"Mm, try not to sound so excited, yeah?" She pops another chocolate into her mouth and starts walking to the exit, clearly expecting you to follow. 

"Do you ever wait for people?" You whisper-yell as you walk after her, taking quick strides to catch up. 

"Nope." She pops the p, "If you wanna come, you'll come. If you don't, you won't." She shrugs and actually offers you the bag of M&Ms. "Want one?"

"Oh, uh, sure." You stick your hand out and she dumps a few chocolates into her hand before she throws the doors to the school open and walks out into the open air, taking an exaggerated inhale.

"Ahhh, air. See, this is what you miss when you stay cooped up in school all day, Princess." She grins smugly to herself, tossing the candy wrapper in a garbage can as the two of you walk. "Fresh air and the smell of cigarettes." And, before you can say something about not being able to smell cigarettes, she fishes a pack of smokes out of her pockets, placing one between her teeth and bringing a lighter to the end.

"Do you ever not smoke?" You ask, more to yourself than her, and (affectionately) roll your eyes. "Nope." She pops the p again, "Always got a cancer stick in my mouth." She grins to herself as if she's proud of herself for that fact. 

"But it's a nasty habit." She adds, after a beat of silence, "I don't even remember when I stopped smoking for "fun" and started smoking because I had to." An exhausted sigh leaves her, and she wipes the nonexistent sweat on her brow with her thumb. 

Silence follows after she shares that piece of information—as if it's the first time she's admitted that out loud. An unreadable expression crosses her features, although you're sure you can detect her underlying unease with admitting that.

"Where are we going this time?" You clear your throat, trying to ease the sudden tension that appeared. "Back to the skatepark?" Nat shakes her head as she ashes the cigarette, "Nah. I need a Redbull or something. Got shit I need to do tonight, and I might as well have been hit by a train. Fuckin' exhausted."  You glance at her as she says that, looking for signs of exhaustion, but find nothing visible. Maybe it's the fact she looks like a raccoon, the bravado she carries, or just… her, but she seems fine. Maybe she just hides it well.

"Honoured to, uh, join you on this very meaningful adventure." You say sarcastically, which earns a snort from Natalie.

"God, you're such a dork. It's cute." You find yourself flushing at the compliment despite yourself, finding yourself extra embarrassed for reacting like that, especially considering that she said it sarcastically, but you can't help yourself. "Yeah, whatever." You mumble, which earns a snort from Natalie. 

"An embarrassed dork." She remarks without even looking at you, a low chuckle falling from her lips. "Now that's cute."

Oh, God. Your cheeks feel like they're on fire. Simple compliments shouldn't be getting to you the way they are, and she seems to know and bask in this fact. She lets a shit-eating smirk don her face, but you're lucky enough she chooses not to embarrass you further.

"Hey," Natalie speaks up after the two of you walk in silence for a few blocks, "Y'know, thinking about it, I don't think I ever got your name." She glances at you, "Mind spilling a secret to me?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. It's y/n." "Hmm." Natalie hums, "Right, right. That is… y/n is a name for sure. A good name! But I think I prefer Princess. Therefore, I will keep calling you that." She says, seeming overly pleased with herself.

"Right." You mumble, wondering why you thought there would be any other outcome to this conversation. "Don't take it personally." She muses, taking a drag from her cigarette, "Princess just suits you." A beat, then she blinks a few times and almost bashfully adds: "In a good way. Obviously. Not in a…" She gestures with her free hand to nothing, which she seems to do a lot. "Not in a "you're an uptight bitch" typa way, alright?" A small crack in the facade, genuine bashfulness from the woman you swore was never anything but sure. But, it's gone as quickly as it appeared as she clears her throat. "Whatever. Just… don't take it personally." She waves her hand dismissively. 

"Thanks." You murmur, a small, excited grin on your face as you walk beside her, feeling like some type of schoolgirl interacting with her crush for the first time at the… almost compliment. 

"Yeah. Whatever." She responds, pointedly avoiding your gaze for the rest of the walk.

…which, in all honesty, isn't that long. Maybe another minute before you're walking into a QuickChek.

The store has seen better days, without question. The floors are all scuffed, the air conditioning is making this weird creaking sound that honestly scares you a little bit, and the clerk looks like they couldn't honestly give a single fuck about anything. A tornado could blow through the shop, and they wouldn't care.

Natalie seems to already know where she's going, walking with a purpose to the far left corner of the store. She walks her fingers across the fridges that line the walls, humming an imaginary tune to herself as she does. She stops at a particular door and swings it open, grabbing herself a RedBull before pausing to look at you, "You getting anything?"

"Oh!" You fumble for a moment, grabbing a water bottle that was in your backpack and waving it briefly, "I'm all good." You take a small sip for effect, but it just earns a slightly confused look from her before she shrugs and closes the fridge.

As the two of you wait in line at the register (the old man in front of you has about thirty lottery tickets he wants checked), you let out a gentle laugh when you see a BuzzBall sitting on the counter.

"Y'know, I've always wondered what they taste like." You nod towards the drink, "Does it live up to the hype?" You muse out loud, "Chili Mango?"

The blonde snorts, "Nah. It's blown way out of proportion." She shakes her head as the guy in front of you two complains about not winning anything on another ticket. "I'm easy for coolers. I'll take…" She gestures to nothing, "A Mike's Hard or Smirnoff Ice. Maybe a Four Loko if I'm feeling interesting. But BuzzBalls…" She shrugs and slides her drink towards the clerk as the lottery ticket guy walks off, "I dunno. Overrated."

"Huh." You consider that piece of information as you look at the offending beverage. 

You don't find much time to consider it until you hear a "Dude, what the fuck?" from Natalie. You glance over at her, and she's glaring daggers into the clerk. "I gave you a five. Where's my change?"

"Nope. You gave me two ones." He shrugs, glancing at his phone, "Must have remembered wrong."

"Dude." She makes a fist with one of her hands in frustration, but it doesn't look like she wants to punch him; instead, she seems like she's just trying to restrain herself. "I get that this job probably pays like shit, but what do you get skimming three dollars off a fuckin'... high schooler?" She makes a slightly confused expression at the "high schooler" comment, as she immediately realises that it's a stupid argument, but it's too late to change it now.

"I didn't take anything from you." He rolls his eyes, "Jesus. Calm down. Just, like, check your pockets, or whatever." He rolls his eyes again, clearly not giving a shit. Natalie, on the other hand, looks pissed. But she knows better than to argue about something like this with a clerk who would probably press the panic button if she tried anything. "Fine." She glares at the clerk a moment longer before her eyes flash to the BuzzBall you were looking at previously, smirks, grabs it from the countertop without fuss, and walks out the door. If the clerk notices, he doesn't say anything. So, you simply just skitter out after Natalie.

She's still walking away, jaw clenched, so it takes you a few seconds to catch back up with her. "Dude, what—"

She stops walking, faces you, presses the drink into your hand, and keeps walking. "There. Now you can try a BuzzBall—since you wanted to." 

"Wait, no, I'm just… what happened in there?"

"The asshole stole my change." She mutters as she cracks the RedBull open. "So I was just getting my money's worth." A large swig from the can, "Like, steal from the rich old guy making you scan hundreds of lottery tickets, and not the chick who has almost her entire outfit thrifted from Good-fucking-Will."

She huffs, then shakes her head, "Whatever. Have a drink. Tell me if it was worth it."

You hesitate, looking between her and the beverage, but eventually sigh. "Dammit…" You crack the tab on the lid and take a long sip. When you lower the container back down, you roll the drink around on your tongue a little bit before frowning. "This is just… okay, I guess."

Natalie laughs. Low and genuine and it makes her eyes crinkle. "Well, yeah, I told you that. Glad you're realising it now, though." She shoots you an easy grin and resumes the path she's taking.

You walk alongside her for a few minutes in relative silence, sipping on the drink while she smokes a cigarette and takes the odd swig from her RedBull, seemingly lost in thought.

After a few more sips of the BuzzBall, you let out a soft laugh. “You really just took it and walked out. That’s… kind of insane.”

Natalie snorts, "Relax, Princess. It's just a BuzzBall. Small potatoes. 's not like I boosted a car or anything." She grins to herself, "Unless, of course, this is your first brush with crime?" She muses in a sing-song voice, "I may succeed in corrupting you yet."

You scoff to hide your blush, "Okay. Whatever. I'm just saying…" You shrug and kick a pebble, "What if he, like, called the cops or something?"

"Cops have better things to do than chase down two high schoolers for a single drink." She snorts, "Trust me. I would know." 

You cock an eyebrow at her, "My bad, forgot you were a delinquent. Of course, you have all the information on how cops in this town act." The tone is teasing, and… wow. You've been surprising yourself a lot lately, haven't you? Teasing like this is… new. Very new. You think you like it.

And, for what it's worth, Natalie seems to like it, too.

"Mm, well, someone has to teach the nerd how to live, yeah?" She takes a swig from the can, "Might as well be the delinquent on first-name basis with the entire police population of Wiskayok." You roll your eyes fondly, "Yeah, no one better to teach me, I suppose."

"Exactly. Who better than the adrenaline junkie?"

"Adrenaline junkie?" You parrot, "I suppose that sense. I'm assuming your driving record is worse than your rap sheet?"

That earns you a laugh from the blonde, "Oh, by far. If I ever got caught, anyway. Listen, Princess, if you're gonna go double the speed limit, you gotta learn how to avoid radar. Plus, no one thinks that the forty-year-old Ford Ranger is goin' that fast. It's all about stealth." A wide grin rests on her face, smug and sure. "I got a lot I could teach you, Princess. 'lot I could sell you on."

"Nancy Reagan has taught me to Just Say No to drugs, thank you very much." You muse with a teasing lilt, "You cannot sell me on that."

"That's the first place your mind goes to? Drugs?" She laughs again, throwing her head back. "And Nancy Reagan? Jesus. How old are you?" You notice her eyes crinkle when she laughs, and the dimple on her cheek is more prominent. A careless sort of happiness that almost makes you envious for some reason.

"Old enough to remember the good ol' days before the youth of America were corrupted by these goddamn liberals…" You say in your best "old person" voice.

Natalie keeps laughing, "Oh my God, you are a fucking loser!" And, despite the words sounding harsh, you can tell she doesn't mean them in a cruel way. It's… affectionate, almost. You'd probably be mildly offended if anyone else had said it like that. But, hey. Maybe you're just too whipped to care right now.

When the laughing settles down, you walk alongside her in relative silence, occasionally glancing her way as she alternates between taking sips from her energy drink and drags from her cigarette.

The two of you continue down the street, the quiet moments between conversations seemingly ten times easier than the previous time you were alone. Natalie doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy the silence, but with her focus on finishing her cigarette and you sipping at the nearly empty BuzzBall, it’s easy to forget how quickly time is passing.

"So," You finally ask, "Have a habit of convincing people to skip classes for convenience store runs and abandoned skatepark trips, or am I just special?"

"You tell me, Princess." She grins at you, "You feel special?"

You roll your eyes, "Am I supposed to feel special, Natalie?"

Natalie glances at you, cigarette perched between her fingers. “You know, you don’t have to call me Natalie. Feels weird coming from you.”

"What, you want me to call you "Princess" now, too?"

"Nah." She laughs, low and warm. "Nat's fine. Save my legal name for my mom or the next cop that wants to book me, yeah?" She finishes with a gentle nudge of her shoulder against yours, "Seriously. No one calls me Natalie."

You raise your hands up in defense, "Alright, alright." You return her laugh, "Then let me ask again, Nat, am I supposed to feel special?"

Nat hums as she considers this, moving her head from side to side in mock thought. "You know what? Yes. I think you should feel special, Princess. Not only do you get to spend time with me, but you also get your own nickname. Pretty cool, huh?" An easy grin slides across her face, "So, yes. Honoured, special, privileged, fortunate… whatever SAT words you wanna use for it. But the answer is yes."

"Alright." You say again, "Then I feel special, Nat."

"Nice." She smiles and nods to herself, taking another swig from her can as she does, "Mission accomplished." That smile slowly slips into something goofier, and for another moment, you see the girl behind the bravado. Sure, maybe you're reading too much into it, but… you're starting to get the idea that she isn't this "untouchable hardass criminal" half the school makes her out to be.

"Wait," You glance around, "You… took us back to school? Thought you wanted to ditch?" Nat shakes her head and gestures to an alleyway between two school buildings, leading you between them.

"We are ditching, and we will remain ditching." She puts the butt of her cigarette into her now empty RedBull can, "I got soccer practice after school. So, yeah, I gotta be here even if I'm ditching class."

"Huh." You lean against one of the walls, "You're really into the whole soccer thing, huh?"

Natalie scoffs, "Yeah, shocker, isn't it? The deadbeat actually cares about something other than drugs."

You frown at that, "That wasn't what I meant. I just…" You sigh, "I meant it in a "tell me more" way, not a "I'm making fun of you" type of way."

"Oh." She seems genuinely surprised that you're curious but nods after a moment's hesitation. "Right. Well, uh. I started playing in middle school." The blonde can't seem to meet your eyes as she speaks, and you swear you can see the faintest touch of red on her cheeks. "Kept playing, I guess. Worked my way up to varsity." She holds her arms open to show off her varsity jacket. "Coach thinks we have a good chance of going to states this year, and states is just one step closer to nationals." 

"Damn. So you've been… you must be really good then, yeah? Are you a starter?" You know jack shit about sports—if you're being honest with yourself. You're just throwing around words you think are relevant to the situation.

Nat nods, a sardonic grin on her face. "Yeah. A starter." She shakes her head and lets out a gentle huff, "Varisty starting winger." A beat of confusion on your part, "Means that it's my job to get the ball to the player who takes the shot, Princess. I'm basically the assist hound. Or, well, that's what Coach wants me to play as, anyway. Keeps saying some shit about how I got "good ball-handling skill" and "the ability to weave through tight spaces" or whatever." She shrugs, acting like that isn't great praise to receive from your coach.

"Wow, so you are really good." You give her an encouraging smile, "That's cool."

"Yeah," Nat grunts, "I guess. Beats doin' nothin'."

"I dunno. I think it is pretty cool. It's one thing to play it casually; another to be good enough to make it to varsity in high school, and another to win nationals." 

"Woah, woah," Nat puts her hands up in defense, "Rewind a little, yeah? We haven't even gone to regionals yet, let alone states." She runs her free hand through her messy hair, "But I appreciate the… unwavering support, or whatever." She glances away again and scuffs her shoes on the pavement, looking uncharacteristically timid.

You get the idea this girl isn't used to receiving praise of any sort.

Interesting.

But, like most cracks in the facade, it's gone before you have time to dwell on it. "That mean I can expect to see you cheering me on in the stands when soccer season starts, Princess?" She asks, taking a step towards you, close but not quite in your personal space. 

"Uh, well, uh, actually, uh, I—" She's not even being particularly seductive. If anything, it just looks like… she's stepping closer to hear you better, or so she doesn't have to be so loud. Yeah. Something like that. "Sure, I, uh, I  just don't know when soccer season starts." You mumble while getting the feeling that your face is gonna be red a lot around her. "So, I'll, uh, I guess, need your schedule or something. Or whatever." You shrug—like the flustered bastard you are.

"Right." Natalie scoffs and fishes her phone out of her pocket, unlocks it and hands it to you, "Throw your number in there, yeah? I'll text you the soccer schedule for this season."

Oh, wow.

If you were a flustered bastard before, you might as well be a complete mess now.

You stare at her phone for a solid five, maybe ten, seconds in silence.

"Right." You grab her phone, and with wide eyes, you create a new contact. 

You return the phone to her, and she immediately sends you a text, "There. You get my message?" You grab your own phone out of your pocket and check to see if you have any new messages, and you do. 

"BuzzBall." You read the message back to her, "Yeah, I got it."

"Cool." Nat grins and shoves her phone into her jacket pocket as she rocks back on her heels, seemingly debating on asking a question.

She never gets the chance to.

"Oh, shit! Look who it is!" One of the two guys walking past the alley you and Nat had ducked into chirp, "The resident burnout! Suck any dick, recently?" A cruel laugh leaves his lips as he nudges his taller friend, "Or, hey, maybe you've been sucking on something else?" He looks at you with a grin. "Find a new bitch to fuck?"

"Nah, this one don't look her type." The taller one chimes in, "She only into the bitches she gets in juvie and older guys, yeah?" They both laugh at that, seemingly finding themselves very funny. 

You had heard the rumours. Of course you had. Who hadn't? But it was one thing to hear a rumour and another to see it yelled at in her face from across an alleyway. When you glance over at Nat to see her reaction, you're… almost shocked to see an expression of hurt on her face. 

The hurt doesn't last long, and you quickly find seething anger taking its place. 

You glance back at the guys as one of them speaks up again, "I mean, hey, if you ever want a dick to suck, mine is available!" The taller guy laughs, nudging his friend. "Come on! The seat in my Beamer goes all the way back!" They both laugh again.

"Nat—" You turn back to look at her and see a deep scowl on her face as she reaches behind her, into her waistband. You really aren't sure what she's about to grab, but you really don't want to know, either. "Woah!" You laugh nervously, "O-okay! Haha! Wow!" 

The guys seem to notice the moment of her hand, and although the taller one seems to falter slightly, the other doesn't care in the slightest. "Oh, come on, Scatorccio! Don't wanna get thrown back in juvie for assault, do you?" He laughs, "Or maybe you do! Find yourself a new girlfriend for the winter!"

Natalie's jaw tightens, and her wrist twitches, clearly debating whether this is worth her time.

"Come on, burnout! You packing heat or something? Let us see it! Is it the same gun you used to rob that corner store last year?" He continues laughing, but the taller one is not having it, discreetly tugging on his friends backpack and mumbling something.

"Natalie." You laugh nervously again, this time reaching out to gently grab her wrist as you see her hand move again, "Come on. It's not worth it." You hesitate a moment, and your awkward smile drops, "Please."

She tenses further at your touch, but the next time you look up at the two guys, you see the taller one clearly trying to leave. At least one of them has some sort of self-preservation instincts. Seemingly realising that they're going, her jaw immediately loses its tension. 

A moment of very tense silence passes between you, your hand still on Natalie's wrist, her hand still reaching for something in her waistband. Luckily (or unluckily), she breaks the silence with a loud, annoyed scoff.

"Christ, relax." She pulls away from you, audibly and visibly upset. "It was a fucking knife, Princess." She pulls out a switchblade and waves it once, "You seriously think I would carry a fucking gun or something on me?"

"I didn't know what you were carrying! Gun, knife, machete, fucking… nunchucks, I don't know! I just didn't wanna see you get into a fight!" You run your hands through your hair nervously, "Especially not with two guys double your size!" "First off," The blonde scoffs, putting the knife away again, "I don't need someone looking out for me, alright? If I choose to fucking get into a fight with two douchebags, that's on me. Second off, why do you even care? Huh? You don't even know me! We have hung out twice!"

"Maybe I'm just a decent person who doesn't want to see people get into fights?!" You counter, growing increasingly confused as to why she's getting mad at you now. "It's not that I agree with anything they said, Natalie! I just…" You throw your hands up in frustration. 

You do care about her, as stupid as it sounds. Despite not knowing her that long, you do care about her safety, and you really don't want to see her get hurt right now.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt, okay?" You say, softer this time. "Okay? I know it really isn't my place; I just… don't want you to get hurt, okay?"

Natalie's bravado seems to falter at that, and you see a flicker of guilt cross her face for a moment before it's gone, and she looks away with a scowl. "Yeah, well… whatever."

There are a very tense few moments of silence before Natalie seemingly can't take it, and she shakes her head with a grunt. "Whatever. I gotta get going. Like I said, shit to do tonight." She tosses the empty RedBull into the nearby trash can and makes to leave, but hesitates for a moment.

Turning her head slightly—but not properly facing you—she offers her parting words. "For the record," she starts, her voice soft, "you really aren't that bad, Princess. I'll make a burnout of you yet." Then she's off again, leaving you alone against the side of the school.

You're pretty sure that's a compliment. That being said, you don't really know with her, but you'll take it as a positive for now. What is it with her and leaving with ambiguous comments? 

Ugh.

When did relationships get so complicated?

a/n: ok MAYBE im taking some slight inspiration from the show... sue me. also... i don't think natalie would be the type of person to just rob random stores n shit. i really think she would only do it if she felt it was justified. shes not a bad person shes just rough around the edges ok 😔✊

...I've never had a buzzball and know nothing about soccer btw

[devils-dares]

hi lovely can i get a carmy x college reader where she comes to his for dinner when the dining hall food is bad 🥹🫶🏻

YES YOU CAN

he's grumbling, pouring over his notebook with a cigarette dangling from his lips. he can't get this one recipe right and it's pissing him the fuck off. he's so pissed, in fact, that he doesn't even hear the door unlock. he ends up throwing the notebook across the room, burying the heels of his palms in his eyesockets. suddenly, you feel really bad about coming here to bother him, trying to sneak back out.

"what're you doin' here, sugar?" he asks.

"was just leaving, i didn't wanna bother you." he sighs deeply, standing up from the floor. he walks over to you, taking your hands in his.

"what's going on?" you blink a few times, thinking about how stupid your disruption really is.

"the dining hall food is bad and i haven't really been eating much. came over here cause i was hungry and-"

"you wanted me to cook for ya, sugar?"

"yeah," you frown, "but you don't have to. you're stressed."

"and my girlfriend's hungry," he says, kissing your forehead. he squeezes your hands gently before pulling you into a hug, "what can i make for you?" as you think, he scoops you up and plops you on the counter, standing between your legs. he brushes your hair out of your face, smiling at you. the stress lines seem to melt away from his face the longer he looks at you.

“make me whatever you feel like making,” you say, smiling at him, “long as it’s warm, i don’t care, it’ll be yummy.”

“bear secret menu item?” you giggle at his words.

“you’re just saying that so you don’t have to admit to stealing syd’s ideas.”

“syd can butt the fuck out of my relationship.” he starts taking some ingredients out.

“nothing too elaborate, carm, just messy and warm.”

“are you hungry now or can you wait?”

“i can wait. i brought my bag, i’ve got some reading to do.” he nods. you slip off of the counter, grabbing your book and notes out of your bag while he starts to cook. the smells enter your nose while you study, and your stomach grumbles loudly.

“when was the last time you ate?”

“good food?” he laughs.

“any food, sugar.”

“i had… a cereal bar this morning.”

“that’s all?” you nod. he sighs.

“how about i make you dinner, and then get some stuff ready for leftovers?”

“please?” he laughs softly.

“‘course, princess.” he starts to chop up some veggies as you pull out your books and laptop. immediately, the stress of school comes back, and you find yourself rubbing at your forehead already. as you;’re getting into the nitty gritty of your notes from your lecture earlier today, you see a glass of wine get dropped off at the table.

“gotta relax more, sugar. all that stress is gonna take a toll on you.” you smile up at him, swirling the wine in your glass before taking a sip.

“you don’t like this one.” you say as he takes a sip as well, “you hate pinot.” he shrugs.

“pairs well with the food.”

“no it doesn’t.”

“no it doesn’t.” he nods, repeating what you said and agreeing. you smile as he turns around, taking a sip of his wine. you can see the sides of his neck tense up, and you imagine the scrunched up look on his face from the taste of the wine.

“carmy-”

“it’s good, yummy.” he says, taking another sip and fighting the sour look on his face.

“i love you.” you laugh. he grumbles and goes back to the kitchen to cook.

soon enough, you’ve got a steaming hot plate of food in front of you, and your laptop gets whisked away.

“eat, and then study if you need to, but you’re not touching this until your stomach is brimming with food. i’ve got seconds.”

“won’t you come eat with me?” you ask, a pout on your face. he tuts.

“yeah yeah.” he refills the wine glasses, his wine looking much darker than yours this go around.

“cab sauv? not the best pairing.”

“better than fucking pinot.”

[whimsicalpolitical]

Drunk business - Matty Healy x Reader

matty and you only get together when one of you is drunk

a/n: maybe a little series is going to happen? if you want

content warning: 18+ mdni, smut, alcohol, p in v, oral (f receiving)

Around midnight Matty went into the pub with his mates only a few streets from where you live so you figured he’s going to come over eventually.

By 3am you are finally starting to wind down, your eyes heavy as you sink into bed. Just as you are on the edge of sleep, your phone lights up, vibrating non-stop. One text after another from Matty floods your screen, pulling you back from the brink of sleep.

darling xxxxxx

are you awake??

can I come over ?

know it’s late x sorry

Before you can even register what his messages are saying, your phone starts to ring. Matty’s name flashes on the screen, and you groan out loud, swiping to answer.

"Matty, what?" you ask, rubbing your temple.

"Hi," he slurs. Of course, he is drunk.

"What do you want?" you ask, already tired of this conversation.

"You," he replies, his voice thick with alcohol.

"Oh, Jesus." You sigh, trying to push the irritation out of your tone. "Matty, it's 3 am. Go home."

"But I'm all alone, love. Can I come over?" he ask, the desperation clear.

You already knew where this was going. Matty gets drunk, shows up, you hook up, and then he's gone by morning. It is a stupid routine, one you aren’t in the mood for tonight. You know he doesn’t want anything real with you, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling something for him, and that just makes it worse.

“I’m not really in the mood, Matty,” you say, hoping he’d take the hint, “really-“

“Alright, alright, we can, we can just talk. Yeah let’s talk, please? Give me some company, darling.”

“Where are you?” You ask, hoping you can still convince him to turn around and just go home. Give you one free night of not feeling guilty or disgusting or used.

“Outside you house,” he says casually.

“What?!” You shoot up from bed, heart racing and before you can process it, the doorbell rings. You groan, louder this time.

You hang up and start walking through your house, your dog following you, barking one time before you shush him.

“Easy, Asher, s’just Matty, shh.”

You don’t want to admit it but Matty’s really good with your border collie and Asher loves him. Usually he’s not keen on new people but- Matty’s not new.

“Angel, come on!” Matty yells from outside. You hear him loud and clear while you stand in front of the front door.

“God,” you mutter under your breath.

You open the door, and there he is, leaning on the frame in his leather jacket, a sloppy grin on his face. "Hello, lovely," he slurs, grinning like he didn’t just disturb you at 3am.

You roll your eyes at him.

“May I come in?” He asks, swaying a bit.

“What did I say on the phone?” You exhale sharply, reminding him you aren’t going to fuck around tonight just because he’s lonely.

Matty’s brown eyes glow in the moonlight, begging for something moor, “you said no,” he pouts, his lip sticking out like a kid.

“So..?” You ask, teasing and pretending you won’t let him in the next few days.

“Means let me in,” he whines, “come on, love. I’m pretty decent, ‘nd behaving like a gentlemen.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. As much as you don’t want to, you step aside and let him in. He stands by the door, smiling at you, the strong smell of whiskey and cigarettes filling the room.

"How many have you had?" you ask, half laughing, half annoyed.

"Enough," he grins, trying to sound smooth.

He leans in to kiss you, but you stop him, gently holding his face. "I mean what I said, Matty," you whisper, kissing his cheek instead before walking away. He stays by the door, looking lost as you leave the room.

You only leave to get Matty a glass of water from the kitchen.

Meanwhile Matty crouches down in the dim light of the hallway, his knees creaking a little as he gets to Asher's level. He lets out a quiet laugh, rubbing his hand through the dog's fur, ruffling it in that familiar, affectionate way.

"I've missed you, mate," Matty murmurs, his voice low and thick with that familiar late-night rasp. He reaches out, giving Asher's ears a gentle scratch, earning a happy wag of the tail.

Asher barks, quick and sharp, his tail thumping the floor. Matty nods, as if understanding him completely. "Yeah, loads. It’s been too long."

Asher’s big brown eyes stay fixed on Matty, clearly overjoyed by the sudden attention. Matty leans in closer, his head resting slightly against the dog’s, almost like he’s confessing a secret. "You’re such a good boy, you know that?" he says softly. His hand keeps stroking Asher’s fur, slower now, more thoughtful.

"Would come over a lot more, but... your mum, she’s a bit mean on me." He shakes his head, still smiling. "Not that I blame her though. Not that I blame her."

Asher whines, nudging Matty's hand with his nose. Matty chuckles, his fingers brushing lightly against the dog's snout. "You don’t judge, though, do you? Nah, not you. Always happy to see me, no matter what state I’m in."

Matty pulls his shoes off knowing you hate shoes in your house especially in the living room where Matty collapses on the couch.

When you come back, you nudged his foot with yours. "Move," you smile, seeing him stretched out, taking up the whole couch. He sits up and you hand him the water before sitting next to him, pulling your knees up to your chest.

"I wish you wouldn't slick your hair back like that," you tease, tucking a loose strand behind his ear that had fallen over his face.

"If you don't like it, I'll stop," he says with a lopsided smile.

"Whatever," you smile back, shaking your head acting like he didn't just make your stomach flutter.

He sets the water down, looking over at you. "Are you really not in the mood?" he asks, his voice softer now.

"No, sorry, Matty," you say, giving him a fake smile.

"Don't be sorry. I'm sorry. l'm only here when... you know... he trails off, avoiding your eyes.

"Yeah," you sigh, understanding what he meant. It was always like this.

"S’ the only thing you'll do with me though, can you blame me?" he mumbles, the words slurring a bit, his face clouded with something sadder.

"What?" you ask, confused.

"Sex. It's the only thing you wanna do with me," he frowns, his eyes downcast, like he'd been holding that in for a while. “I’ve got no choice, have I? Either I stay away from you for good or we’ll shag.”

“What the fuck are you on about?!” You ask, eyebrows raised.

Matty places a hand on your leg, like he needs some excuse to touch you. "I just feel like you only want me when I'm drunk or high or some shit.”

"Why do you think that?" you ask, trying to make sense of where this is coming from.

"You never call or text me after we do anything. S’just -“ he muttered, looking down like it was some shameful secret.

You shift in your seat, stunned by his vulnerability. “That’s not true. You know it’s not like that.”

Matty shakes his head slowly, his hand still lingering on your leg, but there's a nervous energy in his touch now. “Feels like it though, doesn’t it? I mean, we don’t talk... not really. Not unless we’re in bed.”

"Yeah, because I think you only want me when you're drunk or high," you admit, feeling a knot form in your chest as you said it out loud.

"I don't!" he blurts, stumbling over his words. "I wanna-fuck, I'm sorry. I wanna see you all the time. I just thought you don’t actually want me." He looks at you, a bit more sober in his eyes now, like he'd been carrying that thought around for a while.

Matty’s grip tightens just a little on your leg, like he is afraid you’d pull away, like he is holding on to you for dear life. His thumb traces a slow circle over the fabric of your jeans, a small gesture, but it sends a shiver down your spine.

"I'm sorry I come off like that. I don't mean to," he says, staring into your eyes with those big, soft brown eyes of his.

You stay quiet for a moment to think about all the times where you had an amazing night together and you were all alone the next day.

“I hate it when you leave in the morning,” you whisper, feeling more vulnerable than you intend to.

“I know, love. I’m sorry, I wanna stay, I really fucking do.” He whispers, his face inching closer, his hand slowly trailing up your thigh, sending a shiver through you.

“Then stay.”

“For as long as I like?” He asks, his lips hovering near yours.

“How long’s that?” You chuckle.

“Forever? If you’ll have me.”

"I'll have you," you smile back, finally leaning in and pressing your lips to his, the kiss soft but full of all the words neither of you had been able to say.

His tongue slips into your mouth, and you can taste the whiskey on him. "I'm sorry you said you weren't in the mood, he murmurs, pulling away carefully, not wanting to push you.

You momentarily forgot you'd said that, realizing you'd kind of lied to yourself. You straddle his lap, feeling bold. "You have an effect, Matty..." you whisper, pushing off his leather jacket, leaving him in a dark T-shirt that complements him VERY well.

“Do I now?” His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing along the curve of your bottom lip. You wrap your hand around his wrist, and press a kiss to the pad of his thumb.

Matty’s other hand rests on the back of your neck, pulling your lips down to his. The kiss is messy and hungry, his tongue slipping past your lips and gliding against your own. You let out a whimper when he bites down on your bottom lip, and Matty’s hands tighten around you.

Matty’s erection is pressing against the inside of your thigh, and when you grind yourself against him, he grunts into your mouth.

"Like that, love, fuck,” Matty murmurs.

Your hips buck at his words, and you continue rolling yourself against his cock, trying to get the friction you crave. Matty’s hands roam your body, sliding down to grip your ass, then back up to palm at your tits.

He lifts your shirt over your head, and his lips found their way to the valley of your breasts.

“You’re such a good girl,” He says sweetly, “fucking gorgeous girl.”

You could cum like that. Rolling your hips and grinding on his cock until you explode. You follow his lead, lifting his shirt off of his head and watching the expanse of his large chest move as his breath grows ragged.

Matty is a hungry kisser, he bites, claws and sucks his way across your jaw and down your neck.

You run your hands down to his belt buckle, and start to undo it, and Matty’s fingers fumble with the button and zipper of your shorts.

He pulls your shorts off and throws them to the side, and when you go to undo his belt, he stops you.

"Wait, hold on,” Matty pants

"What, Matt-,”

“One touch of you right now and I’ll cum,” he admits, “don’t want to, let’s take care of you first.”

He smiles and stands up from the sofa, your legs wrapping around his waist. He almost loses his balance, making both of you laugh. "You're so pissed, you giggle, enjoying the moment.

"Shut up, you twat," he laughs, leaning in to kiss you again as he carries you toward your bedroom.

You’re both giggling when he gently lays you down on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head before crashing his lips onto yours.

He’s drunk. You think that over and over again, what if he’s using you again.

You visibly frown and Matty pulls back, “is something bothering you?”

“I-,” you sigh, “you’re drunk, what if-“

Matty knows what you’re going to say, he knows you’re doubting him. He quickly shuts you up by kissing you, soft, no rush, just a kiss as a promise.

“I’ll stay, love. I’ve always wanted to stay.”

Matty’s hand starts to pull at the waistband of your panties until they’re down at the middle of your thighs.

“Relax,” he says while moving his head lower, “do that for me.”

Matty lazily drags your panties down your legs, flinging them across the room to be found later before dropping his head between your knees, littering small, slow kisses along the insides of your thighs. "Beautiful girl," he hums, inspecting your glistening sex with peaked interest.

Your cunt clenches around nothing at his words, earning a chuckle from Matty as he sets on top of your mound, pulling the skin taut before blowing cool air on you. You jump in response, looking down at where he's smirking from between your legs.

He hums absentmindedly, "Just making sure you're paying attention," he teases.

His movements are calculated as he exposes your clit to the air, leaning his head down and pressing his tongue flat against your folds, licking a stripe before readjusting himself on the bed.

A constellation of feather-light kisses is left everywhere, your inner thighs, up toward your hip bone-everywhere except where you really need him.

Your clit aches with need as he continues to tease you, the pad of his thumb skimming ever so slightly over the sensitive bud, relieving only a fraction of the pressure that's building up. "Matty," you breathe.

"Hm?need something?" He asks, lifting his head up and looking at you curiously.

“You’re a mean drunk,” you whine.

Usually he can’t wait to get his hands or mouth on you.

“Don’t be a beg,” he laughs before moving his head lower again.

His hand ghosts over your folds, running a finger over your slit and chuckling when your hips buck up in response to the stimulation.

"fucking perfect," he murmurs, watching you intently.

You gasp as he buries his face between your legs, his tongue flat and wide as he drags it through your folds, groaning like he is savoring every drop.

His lips latch onto your clit, sucking hard, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your body. Your fingers tangle in his hair, gripping tightly as your legs tremble, and he groans again, the vibration making you whimper.

“Christ, love,” Matty mumbles against you, his voice muffled as he licks you with long, languid strokes. "This cunt is all mine, yeah?”

He sucks noisily, deliberately making sure every stroke of his tongue is loud, wet, and filthy. You can hear the lewd slurping sounds as he devours you, his mouth greedy and desperate as if he'd been starving for this moment.

His tongue plunges into you, fucking you with wet, deep strokes, his nose brushing against your swollen clit as he grunts against you. "Missed this so much, you can’t even imagine how much, always so drenched for me, soaking me.”

You can’t help but whimper, your hips bucking against his face as he groans, his tongue thrusting deeper, his lips and chin coated with your arousal. He pulls back for just a second, his breath heavy, his eyes wild as he looks up at you.

"Fuck, I could eat you all night," he murmurs, his voice almost a snarl as he grips your thighs tighter, pulling you even closer. "S’ my favorite taste, you know why? ‘Cause you’re my favorite girl.”

With that, he dives back in, his tongue swirling over your clit as he sucks you harder, his mouth relentless. You moan louder, your fingers tugging at his hair as your body arches off the wall, pleasure crashing through you with every filthy stroke of his tongue.

He groans again, louder this time, savoring every moment as he devours you, his mouth hot and hungry, like he can’t get enough.

He alternates between sucking your clit hard, his lips tight around the sensitive bud, and sliding his tongue deep inside you, fucking your pussy with slow, torturous strokes.

Each time you gasp, your body trembling as the pleasure builds higher and higher, his hands gripping your thighs so hard it feels like he is staking a claim.

"Yeah, that's it," he murmurs between licks, his voice raw. "Let me have it, darling.”

Your moans grew louder, filling the bathroom as Joel's tongue worked you harder, faster, his groans matching your own as he lost himself in the taste of you.

His hands slide up your body, gripping your breasts roughly as he continues to feast on you, the pleasure so intense it is overwhelming. You can’t stop yourself anymore-every nerve is on fire, your mind blank as you give in completely.

"Matty, fuck, I'm gonna-" you gasp, your thighs trembling as you teeter on the edge of release.

"Cum for me, love," he growls, his voice hoarse as his tongue flicks over your clit again, harder, faster, relentless. "Want to taste all ‘f it.”

With a final, devastating suck on your clit, you shatter.. Pleasure slamming into you, your entire body shaking as you scream his name, your nails digging into his scalp as he holds you in place, his mouth still working you through the waves of your orgasm.

Matty doesn’t stop, he keeps licking, keeps sucking, devouring every drop as your body convulses, the intensity of it making your legs shake.

He moans against you, his tongue softening slightly but still teasing your swollen clit as you come down, his grip on your hips loosening just enough to let you catch your breath.

When he stops he moves upwards again, a boyish grin on his face.

“S’ delightful,” he says, leaning down to convince you you do taste good.

While his tongue slips past your lips he ruts into you, the friction of his jeans adding another feel of pleasure.

You gasp into his mouth, “matty, need you.”

“Need you ‘s well,” his hand slips behind your back unclasping your bra.

His mouth waters at the side and he can’t help but immediately latch his tongue onto one nipple.

“Matty,” you whine, your hands traveling down between your body’s to find his jeans.

Matty pulls back, helping you get off his jeans and boxers, throwing them on the floor before he’s on you again.

He kisses you deeply, lovingly. You can still taste yourself on his lips, and the realization sends another jolt of pleasure through you. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

You can feel his hardness against your stomach, his need pressing into you. Matty breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. His breathing is ragged, his eyes dark with lust and something else - something deeper.

"Need you," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "right now n’ so bad" he shifts his weight, positioning himself between your legs.

You nod, unable to form words. You need him just as fiercely, your body aching with emptiness and need.

Matty adjusts himself, pressing against you. The feeling of his tip brushing against your entrance sends another wave of pleasure through you. You lift your hips, your body silently begging him to fill you. Matty presses into you slowly.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, your breath catching in your throat. Matty pauses, the alcohol in his body making you feel even more good.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft and concerned.

You nod, biting your lip against the pleasure and pain intermingling within you. "I’m good," you whisper, your voice slightly shaky. "just, just fuck me matty."

Matty lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes darkening further at your words. He begins to move, his hips rolling against yours in a slow, deep rhythm. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper, needing all of him. Each thrust is like a spark, igniting a fire within you that spreads through your entire body.

Matty’s eyes are trained on your face, watching your every reaction, adjusting his pace and angle to drive you wild. His hands roam over your body, touching you everywhere, as if he can’t get enough of your skin.

You are lost in a sea of bliss, the pleasure building with each stroke. You can feel yourself getting close again, the pressure growing once more within you.

Matty’s breath is coming in ragged gasps, his movements becoming more urgent. He leans down, his lips seeking yours, kissing you hungrily. One of his hands slide down to your hip, gripping you tightly, as if he is anchoring himself to you.

Your eyes roll back. "more, please." you beg.

Matty groans, his hips pistoning against you harder and faster. He is close, you can tell. His body is taut, his fingers biting into your flesh. His lips tound your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving tiny marks behind.

"Fuckin’ hell, you feel so good.”

You can feel him getting close, his thrusts becoming erratic, less measured. "tell me... you're close." Matty whispers, his voice heavy with need.

You nod, your words coming out in broken gasps.

"So close." you manage to say, your nails digging into his back.

He shifts slightly, hitting a spot inside you that sends white hot stars exploding in your vision. "oh god, matty... right there."

"yeah?" he asks, his voice strangled and low. "right there?" he knows just how to drive you wild, how to push you to the edge and leave you hanging. His fingers tangle in your hair, his mouth seeking yours again. His lips are hungry, desperate for more.

You can feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building within you with each intense stroke. You are on the brink of something huge, and you know Matty could feel it too.

"Look at me." he demands, his voice rough and urgent. "Look at me when you come."

You force your eyes open, meeting his fervent gaze. It is more than you can handle, the intensity of his look, the feeling of his body against yours, is driving you crazy. You hold his stare, your whole body tensing, waiting for that final push that will send you over the edge.

"Come for me." he commands, his voice a hot whisper in your ear. "Come for me now." It was all it took. Your body obeys his words with almost no will of its own, a wave of pleasure crashing over you, drowning you in sensation.

You cry out, your body arching up against his, your eyes locked with his as you come completely undone. The waves of pleasure seem to go on and on, each ripple making you shiver and gasp. Matty’s hands are on your hips, holding you tightly as he watches you fall apart, his own body taut with need.

His eyes darken, his own need taking over. "I’m going to come," he warns, his voice hoarse and rough.

You nod, your eyes still dilated from the intensity of your climax. "do it," you tell him, your voice shaky.

"want it,” you moan.

He lets out a guttural moan at your words, his body shuddering as he comes, his release pouring into you, claiming you as his own. It is a feeling like no other, primal and intimate.

Matty collapses onto you, his body heavy and warm. You hold him close holding onto each other as the final ripples of pleasure ebbs and subsides. For a moment, there is only the sound of your uneven breathing, mingling together in the quiet of the room.

Matty eventually lifts himself up, his eyes seeking yours. He looks wrecked, hair disheveled, skin sheets with sweat. But in his eyes, there is tenderness, that only comes out in moments like this.

He reaches up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "How are you feeling?" he asks, his voice softer now, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

“Perfect,” you smile.

"M’ glad,” he kisses your cheek, “think I’ve gone sober now.”

You giggle and hit his shoulder playfully.

Matty smiles back, his eyes still glimmering with a mixture of satisfaction and affection. He carefully withdraws from you, moving to lie down beside you, pulling you against him.

You cuddle closer, resting your head on his chest. Beneath your ear, you can hear the steady beat of his heart, a soothing rhythm that lulls you in a peaceful, fuzzy headspace. His fingers play with tendrils of your hair, his touch light and caressing.

"I don't think i'll ever get tired of that." he says, his hand moving to your back, tracing lazy circles on your skin. "of you."

You smile against his chest, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "The feeling's mutual." you murmur. With Matty, everything is easy, comfortable. There’s something keeping you from being together fully though, you don’t know what it is.

He chuckles lowly, his chest rumbling beneath you. "Wasn’t to rough with you, was I?" he teases, his fingers tracing a path of fire down your spine.

You shiver at his touch, and then chuckle. "i can handle it, big guy." you reply, lifting your head to look up at him.

“Course you do,” he laughs.

You stay and the heat between your bodies, the sound of his heartbeat and his steady breathing all take part in getting you to fall asleep.

You think that this time is different, you’ll wake up with maybe you’ll even discuss why you’re always ending up together.

You want to. Because there is more from the both of you and you can’t deny it.

You smile before you open your eyes in the morning but you’re suddenly cold.

Your heart drops and you sigh already knowing what had happened.

You open your eyes to find out Matty has left. His clothes are gone, he didn’t leave a note and your phone is without messages.

Your heart drops and you feel as though your heart got broken by somebody who promised you only hours ago he will stay.

[secretl1fe0fm3]

can’t take it back once it’s been set in motion ~ matty healy x fem!reader

this is slightly inspired by my favorite ovulation song; oxytocin by billie eilish

warnings: smut, inexperienced!reader, service top!matty, slight power imbalance, excessive use of the word ‘love’, matty going down soft sound, aftercare, soft(ish) dom!matty, sub!reader.

18+ minors dni!!!

2.8k+ words

You sigh lightly as your phone lights up your pitch black room, mocking your current state of insomnia. You had set it down over an hour ago to try and force yourself to sleep, but even with a lack of the blue light, you were still wide awake. Sitting up, you reach for your phone and notice an unknown number calling you. Already being unable to sleep, you decide to entertain whoever could possibly be calling you at this hour. Ultimately, deciding to answer.

“Hello?” You speak slowly and softly, still somewhat tired despite being unable to sleep.

“Thank god you answered.” Said the voice, relieved, on the other end of the line.

“Matty?” You could recognize that voice anywhere, even though you were seventy percent sure you were hallucinating right now.

“Im sorry to bother you at this hour, love. I need your help.” Matty breathes out, his voice sounding rushed. You groan to yourself, barely audible. You and Matty had been friends for years, meeting through a mutual friend, but you haven’t heard from him in almost two years until now. He practically ghosted your friendship when he found himself in a new, yet toxic relationship. But, based on the headlines you had read the other day scrolling twitter, they had finally called it quits.

Sitting up, you put your phone on speaker, and sit it in your lap. “Matty, what the fuck do you need?” You’re pissed, but your voice not showing any more than a slight annoyance.

“I need you to come pick me up, take me back to mine. My buddies dragged me out with them to get over, well, you know. Long story short, they are all shit-faced, none of them fucking coherent, and my god damn car service app isn’t working.” He sounds genuinely stressed. “My phones about to die as well, which is bloody fucking fantastic.” Matty grumbles into the phone.

You sit there, momentarily debating your options. You could leave him there, make him figure his shit out on his own. But you also have a soft spot for him after everything, knowing, if anything, he’s not the same person who deserted your friendship a few years ago. A deliberate exhale leaves your mouth, choosing the latter.

“Yeah, okay. Just text me your location before your phone dies. I’ll be there soon.” You hear him start to thank you, but you hang up quickly, not letting him get another word out. Deciding to keep your satin pajama shorts and bra on, you throw a hoodie over and slide on your sneakers. Groaning while grabbing your car keys off the kitchen island, you set off to your car, driving to Matty’s current location.

As you pull up to the bar, you recognize Matty leaning up against the wall, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Nothing has changed. You also notice none of his friends are anywhere to be seen. Odd. Driving up next to where Matty is standing, you roll down your window and his eyes catch yours.

“Long time no see, love.” Matty’s lips twist up into a smirk. Nothing. Has. Fucking. Changed. You watch him stub out his cigarette on the brick wall and toss it into the trash can by him. He climbs into your car shortly after. “Missed your face, thanks for coming to get me.”

Letting out an immediate scoff at his nonchalant behavior, you decide to ignore his comment. “So, Im taking you back to yours, right?”

You feel Matty’s eyes rake over your body, burning into your skin. You can smell some alcohol on him, though you know he’s not a big drinker, only having a glass or two of wine usually, and choosing to stick to his cigarettes or weed. He’s not drunk, so why is he looking at you like that.

“Of course, love.” He speaks lowly, eyes still stuck on you. You decide to disregard his use of the pet name and put your car into drive, pulling off onto the main road.

The drive to Matty’s house was maybe fifteen minutes at most, and yet it felt like an eternity with his eyes fixed on you. It’s almost like he couldn’t believe you actually came to pick him up, not being able to come to terms that you were finally seeing each other after two years.

Pulling up to Matty’s house brought back so many memories, and important moments you two had shared over the years of your friendship. His driveway led you to his front door, as you put your car in park, you finally glance over at Matty, who’s staring attentively. Under the glow of the exterior lights on his house, you notice he’s wearing tight black jeans, a dark belt, blank tank top, and a satin dress shirt. His long curly hair is slicked back slightly, with his sunglasses sitting on top of his head.

“Like what you see?” Matty implies cockily, eyes never leaving yours.

“It’s a fucking Monday.” You glare at him. “Why were you out on a fucking Monday, don’t you think you’re too old for this bullshit?” Continuing to ignore his playful comments, you squint your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. You slightly feel bad for picking arguments with him, but his remarks are starting to make you feel some type of way.

Matty laughs out loud at your comment, the sudden deep laugh makes you jump a bit. “Lighten up a bit, love.” He nudges his elbow into your arm. You continue to frown at him, clearly not finding anything amusing. Matty falls silent, realizing how upset you actually are. “Look, why don’t you come inside? I can make you some tea, and we could watch a movie like old times?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, waiting on an answer.

Your eyes bore into his. “Fine.” Turning off your car, you and Matty step out, walking up to his front door. He unlocks his door and steps to the side, motioning for you to come in. You take off your sneakers and set them on the mat, walking over to his living room and sitting down on his massive couch. He joins you promptly, sitting right next to you, a little too close for the amount of spots he could’ve picked from.

“Still a little bratty? Huh?” He asks casually, not once looking up at you as he turns on his TV.

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widen at his sudden judgement.

“Bratty. You’ve always been a little brat, love. It’s cute, though. Never minded it. Some things just never change.” He chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

Can’t take it back once it’s been set in motion

Your mouth is agape, taken aback by his words, struggling to make a counter remark.

“I see no one’s ever tried putting you in your place yet.” Matty hums absentmindedly, setting the remote down and glancing over at your shocked face.

You know I love to rub it in like lotion.

Pink flushes on your cheeks and neck as you stare at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say next. "I- what?" You stumble over your words, mouth suddenly dry.

Matty moves closer, invading any personal space you were clinging onto. His hand falls on your thigh, squeezing as he keeps his eyes locked on yours. "Oh, you heard me loud and clear, love. Don't play stupid now." He whispers, eyes flickering to your lips momentarily.

You lose the ability to speak, eyes unable to leave his. "Matty-" He cuts you off.

"C'mon darling, I saw how you were looking at me in the car, and how eager you were to come pick me up tonight, even after all this time"

I can see it clear as day.

The blush on your cheeks deepens as you feel his hot breath fan across your skin, creating goosebumps up your arms. You grab onto his forearm, putting your other hand on his chest, trying to keep a small distance between you two. Matty was very attractive, you couldn't deny it. But your inexperience was making you hesitate, unsure of how to handle his advances.

Before you could react, Matty reached his hand out and placed it on your cheek, the other still resting on your thigh, squeezing tighter than before. His face was only centimeters away from yours as he breathes out, "Tell me to stop and I will. But you don't want me too, do you, love?"

You don't really need a break.

You close your eyes tightly, feeling flustered at his words. A warmth growing in your stomach, an unfamiliar feeling. You think about pushing him off, but your body ached for him, not wanting to stop this. Without any more hesitation, you look back up at him, shaking your head slowly, an invitation for him to continue.

Wanna see what you can take.

At your permission, Matty crashes his lips against yours, moving the hand that was on your cheek down to your neck. You let out a small gasp at the contact. He takes this as a chance to deepen the kiss, taking up every part of your mouth with his. The grip on your thigh moves up, closer to your heat. His fingers play with the hem of your pajama shorts, pushing them up slightly, almost exposing your underwear. You let out a pathetic whine as he breaks the heated kiss.

"God, Ive wanted to do this for years, you have no idea." Matty grumbles out as he pulls off your hoodie swiftly, pushing you down to lay back against the arm rest. He hovers over you, pulling down your satin shorts slowly, eyes never breaking contact from yours. "You're so fucking pretty baby, my perfect girl." You blush at his words, letting out a soft groan. Feeling like a prey under the gaze of a predator, you fix your eyes on the ceiling, unable to look at him.

You should really run away.

Matty notices this, and reaches his hand out to grab at your chin, directing your attention back to him. "Don't you dare look away, keep your eyes on me, yeah?"

Your eyes meet his again, his pupils blown with lust. He looks at you with a stern look, asserting his dominance as you nod silently. Matty smirks at your obedience, and starts rubbing small circles on your heat. You moan louder this time at the friction, pushing your hips up against his hand.

Other people wouldn't stay. Other people don't obey.

"That's right, love. Does that feel good? Do you want more?" Matty's eyes stay trained on yours. You feel small under his gaze, yet enjoying how he towers over you, his chain dangling in front of your face. You clench your legs together as his fingers rub at your clit, growing wetter by the second.

Your stomach starts to tighten, already close to an orgasm. "Im close, please, I can't." You cry out, throwing your head back on the arm rest.

His fingers suddenly disappear from your clit, and you cry out from the sudden loss.

"Do I need to repeat myself? I told you to keep your eyes on me, yeah? Be a good girl for me, darling." Matty reiterates, moving his other hand up to your neck again, applying pressure but not fully cutting off your airway.

You nod feverishly, not wanting him to stop again. Your eyes pleading for forgiveness. Matty chuckles and reaches his hand back down, his fingers barely grazing your clit again as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, exposing your wet cunt to him. The cold air against your core makes you shudder, the contrast in temperature sending a wave of pleasure up your spine.

Matty watches your reaction intently, reveling in how it doesn't take much to get you worked up. He releases your neck from his grip and places his lips against your neck, searching for your pulse point. You expose your neck more, giving him silent permission to continue.

I wanna do bad things to you.

"God, you really are a desperate thing, aren't you love? Tell me where you want me." He murmurs into your neck, planting kisses and bites around the sensitive area as he rubs tight circles on your clit. You flush at his words, letting out a whimper.

"Anywhere, please." You beg him, jerking your hips up to create more friction again. He lets out a soft chuckle into your neck at this.

"Your wish is my command, darling." Matty smirks and pulls away from your neck. He begins to move down your body, trailing kisses until he reaches your cunt. He breathes out onto your heat, then swiftly attaches his lips to your clit, sucking hard. You cry out from the new feeling, body squirming with pleasure.

Matty hums against your pussy at the cry you let out, creating a vibrating sensation. Your hands grip at his head, your fingers curling into his hair and pulling. You keep your eyes on him as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly, mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

"So fucking perfect for me." He mumbles, wrapping his hands around your legs, keeping them wide open for him. His tongue teases your tight hole, licking thick stripes wherever he could reach before his attention is drawn back to your clit, sucking persistently.

Your back arches off the couch, fingers gripping at his hair and pulling hard. "Matty, fuck, Im gonna come, fuck-" You stumble over your words, feeling your stomach tighten at his continued abuse against your cunt.

Matty pulls away momentarily, "Go ahead, darling. Be a good girl for me and come on my tongue, yeah?" He picks up speed, mercilessly sucking and circling his tongue on your pussy.

I wanna make you yell.

Your legs clench together, affectively trapping him against your core as your body tenses up. You throw your head back, letting out an obscenely loud moan as you feel your orgasm wash over your body. Your hips buck up into his mouth, feeling even more wetness pool where his mouth is. Matty moans against your cunt, sending aftershocks from your orgasm straight to your heat again.

"You taste fucking unbelievable, love." He grunts out. Your body twitches from overstimulation as he finishes cleaning you up with his tongue.

Matty pulls away, his lips red and wet. You look at him with heavy eyes, feeling almost drunk from your orgasm. He looks almost as wrecked as you. You are about to sit up and reach for him when you glance down and realize he's still hard, but he stops you.

"I know you're tired. You don't have to finish me off. Another time, okay?" Matty speaks lowly, keeping eye contact with you as he stands up and grabs a blanket from the basket near the coffee table. He sits on the edge of the couch next to you, wrapping you up in the fluffy blanket. You blink up at him, exhaustion washing over your body.

Matty stares down at you, giving you a look filled with an emotion you couldn't quite pinpoint. You sigh out, feeling his body press up next to yours. He pulls you into his arms tightly, brushing his fingers through your hair.

"Thank you for that." You admit your appreciation shyly, a content smile on your lips.

Matty grins down at you, "Of course, love. Anything for you." He runs his fingers through your hair, brushing the strands out of your face. Your eyes flutter shut, unable to fight the sleep coming over you this time.

[thecapricunt1616]

Nutmeg (Richie Jerimovich one-shot)

𝒮𝓃𝒾𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓉 (𝑀𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝐵𝒯𝒞!): “Good girl” he praised as you closed your lips around his fingers, watching him as you swirled your tongue around them and bobbed your head making his cock twitch in his pants. “Such a little whore. Creamin’ in y’panties all day thinkin’ about me coming home and fucking you” he took his fingers and spread your lower lips, spitting on your clit and watching as it dripped down to the swell of your ass and disappeared.

♡ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Richie comes home after a long day at the beef & takes care of you! ♡ 𝐖/𝐂: 2.2K+ ♡ 𝐀/𝐍: I thought this was a request but either I already answered it & cant find it but this is Daddy!Kink with Richie I hope we all enjoy! ♡ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐓𝐂: D!Word (main kink in this fic!), Smut, Swearing, Spanking, Agegap!Relationship,The Beef!Richie, Not edited (we die like men here)

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞-𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝐓𝐁&𝐇𝐇 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You and Richie had been seeing eachother for a good 7 months now. He was a good 12 years older then you, but you always loved dating men that were a bit older. They usually had it much more together and knew what they wanted, and they also loved taking care of their girls which was a must for any of your relationships.

He had given you the keys to his apartment, because he found out pretty early on he very much enjoyed coming home to see you on his couch watching one of your desperate housewives or dateline shows while you sipped on a glass of wine or two, or three depending how pink your cheeks were by the time he got in the door. 

Tonight was no different. Around 7:30 he called it quits and told Mikey goodnight, and when you heard his key in the door you were on the balls of your feet practically hopping to the door like a bunny. “Hey pretty girl” he said, dropping his keys on the hall table and wrapping his lean arms around you tightly, kissing your neck gently and giving you a loving squeeze. “How was y’day” he gives you a firm pat on the ass as he pulls away. 

“It was good. You smell like beef sandwiches” you teased, gently cupping the back of his head and pulling him in for a kiss. It was deep, and loving, and tasted like mint gum and cigarettes. He smoothed his palm up the small of your back 

“Mmhmm that’s why I need a shower” he said before pecking your lips one more time for good measure. You pouted a bit 

“No I didn’t say you smelt bad. Come snuggle stinky beef boy” you teased and he chuckled as you drag him by the hand over to the couch. 

“You know if I sit down you can’t get me back up unless it’s to bed so my stinky beef ass is gonna be all over you all night” he told you as you push him to sit and get settled comfy on his thighs, taking his chain out of his t’shirt and playing with it. 

“Who said I didn’t want that?” You rubbed your palm over his spiky short hair, kissing his forehead lovingly. “Did you have a good day?” You asked and he rested his head back on your hand, putting his hands over your ass and squeezing. 

“Same shit different day baby. I like these little shorts, mm? You should wear em’ more f’me when you come over” he plays with the glitter on the back of your ass where it read ‘PINK’ 

“Yeah?” You smiled a bit, gently tugging his chain. “I think you like anything so short it’s basically panties. That’s why I only wear em in the house” you joked and he hummed, reaching his hand under you and cupping your heat 

“You miss me today?” He asked in that quiet way that made your stomach flip and your heartbeat extend all the way down to your cunt. 

“I did. And I was sad when you told me you had no time for me this morning. Left me so wet. All day long. And I had work so I couldn’t even play with myself” you said and kiss just below his pulse point, he tuts, gently pressing down and rubbing back and forth over your clothed pussy. 

“I did that to my sweet girl? How rude is that mm? I should make it up to you, why don’t you lay down f’me princess” he said and you smiled as you did as he asked, lifting your hips so it was easier for him to slip your shorts and little cheeky panties off. The apartment was mostly dark, other then the glow of the TV and the light you always kept on above the stove- but neither of you could miss the dripping arousal. Just as he’d left you this morning, achingly wet and needy. 

You’d had a wet dream and by the time you woke up he was already in the shower for the day, and using your own fingers just made you more desperate. “Jesus - these are fuckin soaked babe, look at this” he scraped some of the creamy white arousal off of the fabric of your panties. “Open” he said and you did so, sticking your tongue out obediently. 

“Good girl” he praised as you closed your lips around his fingers, watching him as you swirled your tongue around them and bobbed your head making his cock twitch in his pants. “Such a little whore. Creamin’ in y’panties all day thinkin’ about me coming home and fucking you” he took his fingers and spread your lower lips, spitting on your clit and watching as it dripped down to the swell of your ass and disappeared. 

“Mhmm. Making a mess in my panties all day f’you daddy” you pull him to you, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for a kiss. “Are you gonna stretch me out with your big cock? Please daddy?” You asked in a sultry voice and he nearly groaned. Before he’d met you, he had no idea he had such a kink. But the first time it slipped out of your mouth he couldn’t stop himself from spilling inside of you within a few minutes. 

“So fuckin filthy” he pushed your hair back off your forehead in that gentle soft way that gave you chills, tucking it behind your ear and cupping your cheeks. “Get on y’knees. Wanna fuck your face a little first.” He said and you giggled in delight, getting on your knees in front of him and looking up at him with sparkly bedroom eyes. 

“I love sucking you, daddy” you said and stuck your nose in the fabric of his tented track pants, inhaling the heady scent of precum and a tinge of sweat from his long day in the kitchen. “Mm” you hum, eyes closing as you kiss his tip through the fabric 

“I can tell, practically droolin’ already hmm?” He took pulled himself out for you, tugging you back by your hair in his fist to look at him. “Open that pretty mouth” he said and you grinned, opening wide and sticking your tongue out, eyes closing. He took his cock and slapped your tongue a few times with it, brushing your cheekbone with his thumb as he thrusted into your mouth. You moaned at the taste of him, slightly salty and a tinge of sweet. 

“Dreamin’a’this fuckin mouth all day” he eases your head down inch by inch, relishing in the gagging and slurping noises you made when your nose brushed his pelvis, cock jammed nearly half down your throat. “Swallow-“ he pushed your head down further and you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing around him best you could and he pulled you off by your hair so you could breathe for a moment, gagging and coughing as his cock is pulled from your throat and strings of saliva connecting the two of you for a moment. 

“That’s my good girl, so messy, such a good whore f’daddy aren’t you” he said as you looked up at him while jerking his cock over your face with watery eyes and a drooly chin. 

“Yes daddy- only yours- wan’more” you said and opened your mouth, pushing yourself down and resting your hands on his thighs as you shut your eyes and tried to force yourself down how he did but gagging and pulling yourself back “I need help” you pout adorably 

“Aw, You need help baby? Here let daddy help you” he said in a nearly mocking tone and eased your head down, gripping your hair when your nose brushed the curly dark patch of hair at the base of his cock and letting out a grunt. “So fuckin warm and perfect - god. Second best to your cunt. Best fuckin feeling in the world” his head drops back as he essentially uses your throat as a fucktoy by pushing and pulling you off of his cock by your hair tightly pulled back in a ponytail in his fist. 

Filthy salacious noises were pulled from your throat, spit dripping out of the corners of your mouth and down your chin as he was surely bruising your esophagus but any time you eat and drink over the next 3 days you’ll be sweetly reminded of being on your knees for your favorite man. He realizes one of your hands missing and slows his movements of your head that he was still controlling as he follows it down. “Are you fuckin touchin’ y’self? Holy shit.” He pulls you off his cock 

“Have you cum yet?” He demands and you quickly shake your head 

“Just touching- promise. I stopped when it felt too good I swear” you said, hoping he wasn’t too upset. 

“Get up” he ordered and with the help of the couch due to your wobbly knees you stood, looking up at him. “Y’r a fuckin mess. You know that?” He pats your cheek “bend over” he ordered and you smiled, happily bending yourself over the arm of the couch and resting your stomach so your legs wouldn’t have to do all the work. “Tryna fuckin take orders at work and all I can think about is how you look on your knees chokin and droolin’ on my cock” he said as he lined himself up, thrusting into you. 

You whined hotly, gripping the couch cushion while he gripped your hips with a bruising pressure, again, instead of thrusting himself- using his arms to slam you back onto his cock, the wet loud sound of your skin clapping together filling the room, that and your porn-like whining. “F-feels so good daddy. Missed you- ah! - Missed you so much!” You cry out when his tip ruts into that spongey yummy spot inside, gushing white cream around his cock. 

He spread your cheeks in awe, watching as his cock pumped in and out of you surrounded by pretty white sticky cream “y’make such a mess mm? Such a nasty little girl” he spanks you hard enough to leave a handprint and you yelp, biting down on your lip to deal with the sting, your walls clenching around him on impact. 

“S-sorry daddy- just feels so good- you make me feel so good can’t help it” you gasp as he forces your legs apart further and starts to rub your clit, alternating between slow and quick circles that matched the force of his thrusts and the mix of that was causing you to see stars and drool on the couch cushion you were leaning on due to the fact that you were so slack jawed your tongue was nearly falling out of your mouth. 

“Look at that- fucked you stupid already and I’ve barely gotten through with you huh? Who else can fuck you this good baby tell me” he spanks you for your attention and you whimper, your orgasm not far behind 

“You- you - only you daddy, no one else I swear!! Please- please fill me up- cum in my pussy pretty please daddy” you whine out and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. He groaned, leaning over you and wrapping his arms around your front, holding your tits steady as he starts to snap his hips faster 

“Yeah- that’s fuckin right I own this pussy- gonna fill you up princess don’t worry, I always fill up my favorite girl hmm?” He said against the shell of your ear, before giving a kiss to your temple. “You close Angel? I wanna feel you milking my cock when I fill up this tight fuckin pussy mm? Give you every last drop” he said and you felt your legs start to quiver, your toes curling into the carpet. 

Your thighs were painted with your white creamy arousal, neck was wet with saliva and spit. Every thrust was drawing a soft uh uh uh uh from your throat as he drilled you into the cushion of the couch, using one hand to play with a peaked nipple under one of his the beef shirts you stole from his laundry pile, and the other to rub your clit messily as he was so close to his own high. “C-cumming” you warn and within a few thrusts your walls were spasming around him, your eyes rolling back behind your lids and biting the pillow as you nearly scream ‘fuck’ 

“God- pussys fuckin suckin me in baby- shit-“ Richie breathes as he finishes inside of you, warmth filling your belly and core, a small smile filming on your lips. 

“So good- so good. Love you daddy feel so good” you ramble, completely fucked out.  “Love you babydoll, now I think we both smell like Italian sandwiches” he teased

Fin

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Table 13 & Cherry Pie

modern!mechanic!benji x stripper!fem!reader

Summary: Working two jobs to support your mom’s medical bills is already hard enough and of course your car breaks down at the worst possible time. A flirty stranger you meet at the diner offers you help with no strings. Everything seems too good to be true and before you know it, it seems as if it all comes crashing down. 

Warnings: 18+ mentions of long term illness, swearing, cigarettes, oral(f receiving), questionable clientele but nothing in detail, p in v, unprotected, a fight but nothing too intense 

Authors Note: request from @chainsawsangel that i thoroughly enjoyed writing and working on 🥰

Word Count: 8k 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I curse at any higher power that’s out there for allowing my car to break on such a vital day. I shove some cash into the taxi drivers waiting hand and take a deep breath before heading into the hospital. I calm my nerves as I adjust my visitors pass before entering my mother floor. The “inspirational” quotes littered across the wall seem to only aggravate me today as I push through the door. I spot my mother’s doctor and walk up to him. 

“How is she?” I nibble my lip looking at my mother fast asleep in the hospital bed. 

“She did well with the more aggressive treatment we used today. She’s a fighter, don’t worry.” he lays a hand on my shoulder and I slink out of his touch. 

“Did finance come up here looking for me?” I wince looking around the floor. 

“No, we tend to keep those vultures out of this space. Your mother is our first priority. We know you’re doing everything you can.” his eyes linger a bit too long before I slip into my mother’s room. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here on time.” I say softly holding her hand in mine. “You’d be giddy to know that your “hot doctor” called you a fighter and had nothing but praise of you.” I pull my normal chair closer to the side of the bed. 

“My car broke down on the way here and I had to wait forever for a taxi and tow to show up. I’m sorry I let you down again.” I curse the tear that falls down my cheek. “I have to work both jobs tonight, as usual. I’m hoping when I get here tomorrow you’ll still be up.” I kiss her forehead and close her door behind me. I internally groan as I walk to the elevator so I can stop past finance on my way out. The receptionist waves at me as I walk past to the desk I’ve become all too familiar with. 

“Lovely to see you, Y/n. What can I do for you today?” she smiles pushing back from her computer. 

“I only have half of this month’s payment. If I could get an extension. Even just a couple of days. I’m sure I can figure something out.” I pick at my nails as she sighs. 

“Something’s better than nothing.” she grabs the envelope from my hands. “I can only give you an extra ten days.” she looks to me with a patronizing smile. 

“I’ll make it work. I don’t have a choice.” I inhale deeply trying not to let my tears fall. “Thank you.” I nod to her before leaving her office. As I walk outside I let the tears flow as I pull out my phone to waste money on another fucking taxi. I sit on the ground crying until the taxi shows up. I get to the diner with fifteen minutes to spare and push through the front doors seeing that the room is full of customers. 

“Get changed and clock in.” my boss shouts from the grill. 

“Yeah,” I wave him off heading to the back. I pull my black uniform out of my locker and change quickly. I secure the apron around my waist and head to the mirror to deal with my tear stained face. I give up and throw my hair into a bun and walk out into the main area. I type my numbers into the computer and then look around to see which table I should head to first. 

“Thirteens been waiting for a while.” my coworker shouts at me so I grab a glass of water and head over that way. 

“I’m sorry about that wait today, sir. Is there something I could get for you right away?” I smile before I feel my heart skip as he looks to me. 

“A coffee for now.” he smiles up at me. 

“Any cream or sugar?” I fiddle with my pen as I try not to trail my eyes all over him. 

“Yeah cream, thank you.” the way his eyes crinkle has me melting on the spot. 

“And are we waiting for anyone?” I point my pen to the empty booth across from him. 

“Not unless you’d like to join me?” I know my blush is visible now as I turn back to him. 

“Oh I- I would but,” I internally scream at me falling over my words. 

“No worries, baby. Maybe another time.” I nod as he smirks after me as I go back to the kitchen. I pour his coffee and grab a jar of creamer before I walk out to him. 

“Coffee and cream.” I set the cups in front of him as he thanks me. “Can I get you something to eat?” I pull out my pad and pen. 

“What’s your favorite thing here?” he hums looking up to me. 

“Probably our cherry pie. It’s perfectly sweet and tart. Unless you meant like actual food.” I nibble my lip scolding myself because of course this man came here for food and not just pie.

“I’ll try your cherry pie.” he chuckles and I don’t miss the way his tongue darts against his lower lip.

“Anything else I can get you?” I offer him whatever smile I can muster. 

“That’s it for now.” he nods his head at me as I hustle back to the kitchen. 

“Well are you going to pick up more tables or stick with Mr. Handsome over there?” my coworkers tease me. 

I pick up my pad and start scurrying around the diner. Once I get into my flow I easily can juggle my tables. Once most of them are gone I glance back at table thirteen and wonder how he can possibly still be eating that pie. I see he’s only taken a couple bites and now I worry that he’s hated it. 

“If you didn’t like it I can get you something else?” my hands rest on his table. 

“You said it was your favorite so I figured I would save you some.” I scrunch my brows at his words. “Open up for me.” his voice is low as he brings the fork to my mouth. I shrug and wrap my lips around the fork and moan as I taste the sweet tartness. 

“I’ll go get you your check.” I hum licking the cherry from the corner of my mouth. 

“He’s your last table so finish up and I can get you out of here early.” my boss nods to me. I sigh knowing I need more money but I’m thankful that I can get to the club a little earlier. 

“Here’s your check I can come back when you’re ready.” I nod my head at him. 

“No, the rest is for you.” he hands me a fifty for his ten dollar bill. 

“Are you sure?” I blink at him in disbelief.

“Yeah you’ve earned it.” he slides out of the booth and towers above me. “Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow to try some more of your pie.” he leaves me blushing at the booth as he exits the front door. 

I go back to my locker and change back into my regular clothes before heading out the back. I cut down a couple alleys and side streets and sigh in relief when I start to see the familiar neon sign. I twist my key in the back door and make my way down the steps. The other girls wave at me and smile as I walk past. I make my way to my vanity and plop in my chair and sigh. 

I start to pull my bun out and tease my hair up a bit. I pull out a can of hairspray and get to work on making my appearance more desirable. I go back to my locker and pick out my most flattering outfit since I need to make the rest of my mother’s payment in ten days. As I look in the mirror the club manager walks to me and runs his hands up my arms. 

“When are you going to do private dances? You can make more money that way.” his voice sing song as I roll my eyes. 

“I don’t like when these men touch me.” I look him over before stepping out of his reach. 

“No but you like their money. What about a lap dance?” he keeps pushing the subject. 

“I’ll let you know if I change my mind.” I toss over my shoulder before walking backstage to hand the DJ my song choice. 

The rest of the night is filled with my boss begging me to give a man in the front row a lap dance and me respectfully declining every single time. I toss my outfit into my bag to take home and wash and I’m thankful one of the girls is willing to drop me off at home. 

As I walk up to my sidewalk I sigh at the shell of my childhood home. I slam the door shut behind me before trudging up the stairs to burn my skin in a hot shower before I collapse onto my bed and allow sleep to take over 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Next day

I was able to see my mother for a couple hours today and drop off the money I made yesterday in finance. I wait on the sidewalk for my taxi to get here and smoke a cigarette wishing my life was different. As I see the car pull up I stand tossing the remains. We pull up to the diner and I furrow my brows as I see table number thirteen waiting outside the doors. 

“There’s my cherry pie.” a smile spreads across his face as mine heats. 

“You know they’re open even when I’m not here?” I finally return his smile stopping in front of him. 

“But I’d prefer it if you were here.” he opens the door for me. 

“I’m flattered,” my face must be red at this point. “Go take a seat table thirteen and I’ll be there when I clock in.” 

My boss and coworkers look at me with raised brows as they see him go sit in the same booth from last night. I try not to catch their gaze as I make my way to my locker. I clock him in and head straight for table thirteen. 

“What can I get for you today, sir?” I pull out my pad and pen. 

“Back to sir and not table thirteen?” he offers me a lopsided smile. “I thought we grew on each other, cherry pie.” 

“I just never got your name last night.” I hum looking over my pad at him. 

“You didn’t ask.” he raises an eyebrow with a taunting smile. 

“Table thirteen it is.” I roll my eyes and he laughs. 

“I’ll have the same as yesterday.” he hands me his menu and I leave him trying to collect my thoughts. I’ve never been one for flirty customers but there’s just something different about him. 

“I see your boyfriend is back.” my coworker giggles as I huff pouring his coffee. 

“I can only dream. There’s no way that man is single.” I shake my head bringing his coffee and cream to him. 

“What kind of pie would you like today?” I set his coffee in front of him. 

“What’s your next favorite after the cherry?” I nibble my lip thinking. 

“I think our banana cream pie is a close second.” I nod my head with my choice. 

“Then that’s what I’ll have.” he nods his head with a smile as I head off to the kitchen.

I plate his slice and run it back to him before I start tending to my other tables. Table thirteen only asks for refills on his coffee and I can feel his eyes on me throughout the shift. As I’m nearing the end of my shift I make my way back to him. 

“I was wondering when you would come back for your taste.” my breath catches at his words and he slices a piece of the pie. “I can feed it to you again.” I throw my cares away and dip down savoring the sweetness. 

“Did you enjoy it?” I lick the cream off my lips as he looks to me with dark eyes. 

“What are you doing after your shift?” his voice stirs something deep within me. 

“Going to my other job.” I sigh knowing I have no time to entertain the idea of this man at my house. 

“You’re a busy woman, cherry pie.” he tsks shaking his head. “Shouldn’t your man take care of you?” he tilts his head waiting on my answer. 

“I don’t have time for one. Two jobs, an aspiring artist, and a dying mother doesn’t really pull them in you know?” I feel like weight on my shoulders like bricks forcing me down. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” I shake my head trying to figure out what I was thinking pouring my trauma on this man. 

“What’s something I can help you with?” he grabs my wrist to stop me from walking away. 

“Why do you want to help?” I look at him skeptically. 

“Because I can tell you truly need it.” his voice soft. 

“You good with cars?” a smile splits across his face at my words. 

“I’m the best mechanic around.” his voice full of confidence. “What time are you done at your other job?” 

“Around two I know it’s kind of late-“ 

“That’s fine. Do you need me to pick you up?” he pulls out money for his tab. 

“No my coworker can bring me home. Are you sure? It’s really late and inconvenient and I don’t have any money to offer.” I shake my head. 

“I offered to help where I can. Fixing your car is easy for me.” he slips another fifty into my hand along with his phone. “Put your number in.” 

“I put it under Cherry Pie.” I hand him his phone back. “I’ll be back with your change.” 

“No need.” he waves his hand. “Text me your address and when to come over.” he types something out on his phone and I feel mine vibrate. 

“Thank you,” I furrow my brows and walk back to clock out. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Table 13: Don’t forget to send me your address. 

Cherry Pie: Home Location

Cherry Pie: I’ll be home around two. If you seriously want to fix my car. 

Cherry Pie: I’d appreciate it, but it’s a lot of me to ask of you.

Table 13: I’ll be there. You didn’t ask, I offered. Have a good shift 🍒

Cherry Pie: omw now if you’re still coming 

Table 13: I’m here waiting for you 😌

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

“How long have you known this guy?” my coworker looks at me as if I’m crazy and I’m starting to think I am. 

“Two days.” I wince. 

“What’s his name?” she sighs shaking her head. 

“I don’t know,” I nibble my lip. “We use nicknames.” I look out the window to avoid her stare. 

“If I wake up and hear about you on the news I’ll find you and kill you myself.” she says parking at my driveway. 

“He’s nice,” I shrug getting out of the car. “And hot so fuck it.” I smile before walking up my drive taking in table thirteens car. 

“How was work?” he rises from my porch swing. 

“Long and exhausting.” I say throwing my bag over my shoulder. 

“What’s your other job?” he asks following me to my front door. 

“Not a lot of people seem to look kindly upon it.” I slide my key in the lock and push the doors open. 

“I don’t judge.” he shuts the door softly behind us. 

“Do you want something to drink?” I turn the lights on in the kitchen and look him over. I take in his tired eyes and start to feel bad. “It’s so late and you’re tired.” I shake my head. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” he nods reassuringly. “I’ll have a water.” he offers me a smile. I grab two waters out of the fridge and begin to lead him to the garage. 

“Here he is.” I flick on the lights. “All broken and sad.” I step in and begin to move my canvases and art supplies out of the way. 

“Do you have the keys?” he turns to me. 

“Yeah one sec,” I run back into the house and grab my keys and hand them off to him. “Do you need anything like help?” I lean on the door frame watching him. 

“Do you know much about cars?” he looks at me with a teasing smile. 

“No but I could hold the flashlight or something.” I look around not even sure if I have an actual flashlight. 

“No, you can just sit there and tell me about your day, baby.” he smiles popping my hood as I take a seat on the stairs.

“I went to see my mom today. She was awake. I gave most of the money I made yesterday to her hospital bills. As long as she gets better though and she is.” I nod looking at the ground as I hear him try to start my car. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he says leaning his head out of the car. 

“Not particularly.” I shake my head looking up to him hoping he can’t tell my eyes are red. 

“That’s okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” he tries to start the car again before he starts working under the hood. “What about the rest of the day?” 

“I went to work at the diner, had some phenomenal banana cream pie, and got some dudes number and I don’t even know his name.” I chuckle thinking about how ridiculous this is. 

“I like table thirteen.” he laughs from my car. 

“I do too.” I hum. “Then I went to my other job where my boss just hounds me to do things I don’t want to do. I’m never forced to do anything but it’s just the constant pressure that is a lot.” I sigh resting my head against the wall. 

“You never told me what your other job is.” he tilts his head to the side. 

“I dance.” I watch as his eyebrows scrunch. 

“What do you mean dance?” I watch him try to twist something before walking back to the drivers side. 

“You know what I mean.” my voice hushed as he turns to me after the car won’t start. 

“You’re telling me that my shy cherry pie is an exotic dancer?” he chuckles shaking his head. 

“It plays the bills especially when they’re medical bills.” I pick at my nails. 

“What does your boss keep asking you to do?” he turns to me.

“I only dance. He wants me to do lap dances and private dances. I don’t want that. Dancing is an art to me and so what if I take off some clothes and get men to give me money for it?” I hate the stigma around dancing in general there’s nothing wrong with it. 

“Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. If your boss makes you uncomfortable he can become very comfortable with my fists.” my eyes snap to his before I stand. 

“No,” I shake my head. “He wouldn’t make me do anything.” I walk up to him with pleading eyes because I can’t lose this job. I’d quit the diner before I quit the club.

“Just tell me if you change your mind.” he nods his head. “I won’t do anything unless you tell me. Go sit back down.” he nods over to the stairs. I sigh sitting back down and watching table thirteens muscles flex as he uses different tools. I have no idea what he’s doing but he looks phenomenal. 

“I think you might be drooling, cherry.” he chuckles watching me stare at his hands. 

“Sorry.” I lick my lips absentmindedly. 

“Come sit closer if you want a better look.” he teases. 

“Have you figured out what’s wrong with it?” I sigh rolling my eyes.

“I think so. I’ll have to come back tomorrow with some more parts and tools.” I scrunch my eyebrows. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage of your time and work.” I look up to him. 

“I offered,” he goes to touch my cheek but looks at his dirty hand. “I will be here same time tomorrow unless you would like me to pick you up from work?” 

“I feel like that’s too much to ask.” I fiddle my fingers. 

“It’s not.” he starts to clean up some of his tools. 

“Let me know if there’s anything you need or want.” I call after him as he starts to walk to his car. 

“Shut the garage while I’m still here so I know you’re safe.” he leans on his car and waits as I press the button while we stare at each other until it reaches the ground. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Table 13: I won’t be at the diner today but I can pick you up after work. 

Cherry Pie: Are you sure? I can have my coworker take me home so you don’t have to do extra driving. 

Table 13: Just send the address and I’ll be there. 

Cherry Pie: and you’ll wait in the car and not harass my boss?

Table 13: Yes I’ll wait in the car 🙄 

Cherry Pie: Club Address

Cherry Pie: Thank you, again. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

As my last song ends I walk off the stage and breathe out thankful to let my body relax. I start to take the pins out of my hair and sit down to take my heels off. I change my clothes and check my phone. I smile at table thirteens texts that he’s here. 

“Don’t tell me you’re smiling at something that man sent you.” she snatches the phone out of my hand. “Table 13: I’m outside waiting in my car, just like you requested cherry pie.” she bursts out into giggles as I snatch my phone back. 

“Let me have some fun.” this spurs her laughter on even more. 

I sigh grabbing my bag and stopping at the refrigerator. I grab out the plastic bag handling it carefully before rolling my eyes at my friend and walking up the back stairs. I find his car and he gets out taking my bags from me. I snatch bag the plastic bag with a smile as he puts my other bag in his backseat. 

“This is a surprise for you.” smile as he opens up the door for me. 

“What is it?” he smiles as he gets in on the other side. 

“You can wait until we get home.” I hum and he chuckles pulling us out of the parking lot. 

“How was work?” he turns down the music and glances at me. 

“I made some good money. I should be able to pay off this month’s bill at the hospital. Though of course my boss always tells me I can make more.” I sigh resting my head on the window. 

“Why don’t you?” his voice soft and curious. 

“I’m not that good at faking attraction and desire. I can’t turn away all the men I find unattractive, I mean that’s what I do already.” I chuckle. “There’s never been a man who’s swayed me enough to say “yeah tonight’s the night I make this man come in his pants.” you know?” I turn my head toward him. 

“I know what you mean. I think about that everyday at the shop.” he laughs shaking his head as we pull into my driveway. “So what’s my surprise?” he looks to the plastic bag. 

“Not until we’re in the kitchen.” I hum getting out of the car. He grabs my bag and follows me into the house. I tell him to sit in a stool at the island as I prepare a piece of pie for him. “You missed my third favorite today.” I place the pie in front of him. 

“I’m terribly sorry, baby.” he looks to me with amused eyes. “What’s today’s flavor?” he tongue darts across his lower lip. 

“Peach.” I hum and he pats the stool next to him. I walk over and take a seat while handing him the fork. He takes a bite and hums going in for another. He takes another piece and brings it to my lips. He slowly pulls the fork out of my mouth as I hum closing my eyes at the flavor. 

“This was a lovely surprise.” he takes another bite and switches off from feeding me and himself. “Let’s go try to fix your car.” he nods once the pie is gone. I follow him closer to the car this time and sit on the ground as he’s under the hood. 

“This is a better view.” my words low as I admire him. 

“I was thinking the same thing.” I chuckles looking at me from the corner of his eye. “So how was the diner today?”

“It was so boring without you there. No one was there to feed me pie.” I pout as I watch him pull out a piece of my car. 

“I just fed you pie in the kitchen.” he rises wiping his brow. 

“Yeah, but not at work.” I bat my eyelashes at him. 

“My poor baby.” he chuckles walking over to me. “I need you to try and start the car while I look under the hood.” he offers me his hand and he pulls me up and I quickly get into the drivers side.

“Now?” I ask not wanting to ruin anything. 

“Yeah,” he gives me a thumbs up. My car makes a terrible noise and I stop instantly. “Well fuck.” he sighs walking back over to me. 

“What’s wrong?” I look up to him. 

“I need another part.” he sighs resting his head on the door frame looking down at me. 

“Is this just an excuse to keep seeing me?” I reach up touching his cheek. 

“Do I need an excuse?” he tilts his head down an inch. 

“No,” my voice barely above a whisper as I tilt my head up. 

“Tell me what you want, baby.” he purrs dipping down ever so slightly as I lean up. 

“Kiss me.” I look to his lips before they fall into mine. It’s a quick kiss that leaves me frustrated and wanting more. “Kiss me again.” I huff. 

“Maybe tomorrow.” he chuckles kissing my forehead. I get out of my car practically throwing a tantrum. “Shut the garage baby.” he smirks leaning against his car until he disappears as the door shuts. I stomp up the stairs and collapse into bed. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I step out the back door of the club and shiver at the breeze. If he wants to tease me over a kiss I’ll tease him right back. My heels click against the ground as I make my way to his car. He’s out of the car and offering to take my bag from me. I slip into the car trying to pull the oversized shirt down and give up. 

“Where are your clothes?” he rasps turning to me. 

“I forgot them. I borrowed a shirt and I have stuff on underneath.” he watches me try to stretch the fabric down. 

“Do you?” he raises an eyebrow. 

“I’ll change when we get home.” his eyes travel to my legs again before shifting us into drive. The tension in the car is palpable and this is either going to go exactly my way or I’m just going to look desperate. We get to my house and he follows me inside like normal. 

“Do you want something to drink?” I turn reaching up to grab a glass and I feel the shirt slip up. 

“Baby.” he growls from the island. 

“Sorry.” I turn to him with a glass. “What can I get you?” I look up at him through my lashes. 

“Come here.” his voice low and I slowly come to his side. 

“I forgot pie today.” I whisper. “Can I offer you anything else?” 

He pulls me into a kiss and lifts me up onto the island. I gasp as the marble chills my skin as his hands grip my thighs. I whine into his mouth as he digs his fingers in. His hands start to travel up as I squirm and he pulls back. 

“I’d like to have a taste of you tonight then.” his fingers slowly spreading my thighs. 

“Yeah, please.” I whine nodding my head. He smirks before dipping down and trailing wet kisses across my thighs. He places a kiss over my covered slit and I shutter trailing my fingers through his hair. He pulls my panties to the side and groans as he looks up to me. 

“This is okay?” he asks again and I nod pushing his head down as he chuckles. 

“Yes, fuck yes,” I cry out as his tongue licks around my bud. He starts a quick rhythm that has my breaths coming out in pants. My hips grind against his face while his fingers hold onto my hips. His tongue slips down to my core and circles the entrance before bringing more wetness up to swirl around my bud. My legs tremble at his speed as my pleasure starts to coil. I come undone as he licks me through it as I moan above him. 

“That’s my new favorite. I’d have that every day.” he rises up licking his lips. He pulls me off of the counter as my chest is still heaving. “Go put clothes on and meet me in the garage.” he kisses my forehead and walks to the garage. 

I get up the stairs on wobbly legs as I throw my bag onto my floor. I take off my clothes and slide into shorts and a shirt and make my way back down to table thirteen. I should ask him his name but then I know I’ll get attached. I walk into the garage and sit down on the floor near him. 

“Tell me about your day.” I hum watching him. 

“I had a lot of clients in the shop today and none of them were simple fixes which got a little frustrating when my team couldn’t help either. It was a long day.” he signs resting his hands on the car frame before turning to me. “This makes up for it though.” he smiles. 

“If you had a long day you can come back and finish it tomorrow.” I furrow my brow rising. “Or whenever you have time. I don’t want to be demanding. I know the time is so inconvenient but it’s the only time I have and-“ 

“You can’t be demanding if I offered and I don’t mind the time, I promise.” he rests his hands on my arms. 

“Thank you.” I look to him with soft eyes. “I really do appreciate everything.” 

“Tomorrow I promise I’ll have it done. Text me when you need me to come get you.” he smiles packing up his tools. “Have a goodnight.” he leans against his car and watches the door shut. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

As I step on stage I scan the room as normal and my breath stops when I see my moms doctor. I almost turn and run off stage but I genuinely need this money. As I make my way to the center I can feel his eyes on me as he sits back. I try to keep the sultry smile on my face that only falters when I’m facing back stage. When the song ends I wave and exit quickly. 

“The man in the front who looks expensive wants to talk to you.” my boss says coming through the door. 

“I’m not doing a dance for him. No.” I shake my head looking into the mirror. 

“He just said he knew you. You don’t want to look bad in front of rich clientele do you?” he raises his eyebrow waiting for me to walk to the door. I groan getting to my feet. I better not regret this. As I step out the door to the main floor I put on my smile. 

“Well, go over there.” he nods encouragingly and I turn to him and glare. I walk over to my mother’s doctor with my nerves pouring out of me.

“Some of my nurses told me you worked here and I didn’t believe them.” he smiles up to me from his chair. 

“I have to pay my mom’s bills somehow.” I look down to him with a raised brow. 

“If you give me a dance I’ll pay next month’s bill.” his eyes darken. 

“I don’t think that’s appropriate and I don’t do dances.” I start to pull back. 

“Two months.” he grabs my wrist. I look around the club and my boss is nodding encouragingly and I feel helpless. He pulls me down onto his lap and I gasp. “Three months then.” I try to hide the horror of my reality. 

That’s a lot of money he’s offering. It would allow me to save up and get more ahead on my payments but at what cost? Walking into the hospital and knowing this man was all over me and paid thousands of dollars for me to sit on his lap. My boss starts to walk over with a drink and I shake my head hoping he leaves this situation to me. 

“A drink for you.” my bosses voice is celebratory. “You’re the first to get her in your lap.” 

“Is that so.” he smirks looking me over. 

“She’s very particular about her clientele.” my boss chuckles handing the man a drink. “On the house for doing the impossible.” he winks at us and walks away. 

“Three months pay for you to give me something to think about with my wife?” I blink trying to hold back my disgust. I relent because that money could change everything for me right now. I bring my leg to the other side of his thigh and his smile is predatory. 

“Three months pay and we’re staying right here.” my voice firm as I rest my hands on his shoulders as he nods his head. 

I try to block out the next ten minutes and the way his hands feel on my body. My outfit stayed exactly where it needed to but it didn’t make me feel any better about the gaggle of men staring at me. Once I’m backstage again I go to my locker and pull out my phone as I start to pull on clothes. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Cherry Pie: Can you pick me up?

Table 13: Of course baby. Where and when?

Cherry Pie: The club and now

Table 13: Omw is everything okay?

Cherry Pie: Yeah I’ll see you soon

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I sit on the side of the building smoking a cigarette holding my knees against my chest. I blow the smoke up into the sky and curse the stars for my shitty life. I groan as I hear the door open and turn and see that it’s the doctor. 

“I was wondering where you ran off to.” he smirks looking down at me. 

“My ride is almost here.” I murmur taking a long drag. 

“Those will kill you.” he tsks. 

“Sooner rather than later I can only hope.” I sigh hoping table thirteen gets here soon. 

“We can go to finance tomorrow and we’ll get it all paid.” his voice soft and it confuses me. 

“You don’t want to do it anonymously?” I furrow my brows. 

“No moneys money, they won’t talk.” he shrugs before slipping back into the club. I rise to my feet as I see table thirteens car pull around the corner. 

“What’s wrong?” he searches my face as I get into the car. 

“I just- We can talk about it at home.” I shake my head as he pulls us away. The ride is silent and different and I know he can tell something is wrong but I just feel like a baby. 

“Tell me.” he holds the door open for me as I get out. He takes my bag from me and follows me into the house. 

“I was baited- no, I don’t know, I guess it was my fault,” I shake my head. 

“You can tell me.” he goes to cup my cheek and I shrink. It’s not that I don’t want him to touch me I just feel dirty and like I need to boil my skin off. “What did your boss make you do?” his nostrils flare and I feel his temper rise. 

“My mom’s doctor was there and he kept asking my boss to talk to me so I went out to the floor and that’s my fault I guess.” I huff at the way my voice breaks. “I don’t know, I ended up on his lap and his hands were all over me and I just- I need to shower.” I pull him up the stairs with me. 

“I can work on your car while you shower.” he voice low as he follows me into my room. 

“You said you would beat up my boss for even asking me to do that and now that it’s done I’m scared, thirteen.” I turn to him. 

“Benji.” my eyes find his quickly. 

“Benji.” I look up to him seeing him in a new light. 

“Y/n.” the smile that spreads across his face is contagious. 

“Go take a shower, Y/n. I’ll wait right here for you.” he lays back on my bed as I lock myself into my bathroom. 

The hot water and steam melt away everything that came with today. Three months of my mom’s medical bills were paid and I want to feel relief but I don’t know how I’ll face her doctor. Benji. My mind drifts to him and I smile as I scrub myself. His tongue was perfect last night and I can’t help my mind drifting to what else he can do. I wrap myself in a towel and push the door open as steam pours out. 

“How was your shower?” he props himself up on my bed. 

“It was good.” I hum walking over to the bed. “I thought about you.” he chuckles. 

“And what did you think about?” his tongue darts across his lower lip. 

“I need a distraction from today.” my words soft as I drop my towel. 

“Are you sure?” he searches my eyes before even looking over my body. 

“Please Benji.” I nod my head and he has me under him on my bed in seconds. 

I sigh as he attaches his lips to mine. His tongue pushes into my mouth and caresses against mine. I whine into his mouth as he grinds against me and the feel of his pants has me squirming. He chuckles kissing down my neck and licking across my chest slowly making his way down. 

“I need a taste of my cherry pie.” a moan falls from my lips as his tongue licks up my center. 

His rough hands hold my hips down as he swirls around my wetness. My body trembles as his tongue focuses on my bud. One of my hands tangles in his hair while the other one teases and caresses across my chest. My hips jerk against his face as he dips down and pushes his tongue into me. 

“Fuck Benji,” he groans against me and the vibration pulls a string of moans from me. “Right there, yes,” I roll my hips against his nose and release against his face with his name on my tongue. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” he groans as he stands to start pulling off his shirt. 

“So are you, why do you think I keep you around?” my voice still breathy. 

“And here I was thinking you liked me, baby.” he chuckles sliding his pants down and I groan looking at his length. 

“When did I say I liked you?” I smirk as he crawls over me. He lines himself up with my core and pushes in slowly. My toes curl with every inch as small gasps leave my mouth. 

“How’s it feel?” he rocks his hips into me. 

“Like I need you to move.” I whine as I push my hips against his. He chuckles and starts to slowly move his hips as I squirm beneath him. He snaps back into me as he captures my lips before beginning to rut into me. I moan into his mouth as my pleasure begins to coil. He kisses down my jaw to bite across my neck as his name falls from my mouth. 

“You’re doing so good for me.” he coos never losing his rhythm. The coil that was building snaps at his words and he curses into my neck as I pulse around him. 

“Benji,” I whine breathlessly as he continues to push into me. Broken whimpers leave my mouth as I feel pleasure starting to build again. My nails dig into his shoulders when his fingers find my sensitive bud. 

“You gunna come for me again?” he purrs as my eyes start to roll back. I nod my head as I pant beneath him. His thrusts become erratic and a string of curses leave his mouth as my walls contract around him. He pushes into roughly before I feel his warmth spread throughout. He rests his forehead on mine as we try to catch our breath. I sigh as he pulls out and collapses next to me pulling me closer. 

“Just stay.” I mumble as I feel my eyes droop. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

“Fuck what time is it?” I jump up from the bed untangling from Benji who groans wiping his eyes. I check my phone seeing that I have about twenty minutes until I need to go visit my mother and get her bills paid. Which I don’t even want to think about at this particular moment. “Fucking taxis,” I mutter pulling up the phone number. 

“I’ll give you a ride to the hospital.” I turn to see Benji sliding on his pants. “Get dressed and we’ll head out. Don’t worry, I’ll wait in the car.” he chuckles kissing my forehead before slipping into the bathroom. 

I pull clothes on and we’re out the front door in five minutes. I’m walking through the main hospital doors shortly after. My mom is awake and happy and I do everything I can to avoid the doctor’s gaze. He stands a little too close to me but I try not to make a big deal. 

“Well, I’m going to head out..” I hug my mom and kiss her cheek. The doctor follows me out of her room and a shiver goes through my body. 

“Let’s go to finance, I have a break.” he says lowly before walking to the nurses station. I wait for him at the elevator and as we share the small space I beg for the elevator to move any faster. I watch as the secretary types into her computer and hands me a receipt paying for the next three months. I nod at the doctor and flee the hospital. I make it to Benjis and he offers me a smile. 

“How was she today?” he turns to me. 

“She was okay.” I nod my head fidgeting my fingers. 

“Do you want me to drive you to the diner?” he grabs my hands to settle my nerves. 

“I don’t- I’m calling in.” I shake my head not in the mood for the diner today. 

“Home?” he asks. “I can finish your car.” he smiles. 

“Yeah that’s good.” I nod my head and we make our way back to my house. 

I trudge into the front door with him close behind me. I grab us a drink before we make our way back to the garage. I sit on the ground lost in thought about the past 24 hours. I can’t even appreciate this man in front of me and my brows furrow. 

“What’s wrong?” he looks at me from under my hood. 

“I should start getting ready for the club soon.” I sigh looking up to him. 

“Go get ready and I’ll finish up down here.” he nods to the stairs and I slip into the house. I take another boiling shower and start to detangle my hair. I grab a crowd favorite outfit and slip it on before putting sweats on over it. Benji knocks on my bedroom door and leans against the frame with a smile.

“It’s all fixed, baby.” he jingles my keys. 

“Really?” my face lights up and I grab my keys from him and bound down the stairs. I jump into my car and it starts right away. “You’re a lifesaver.” I beam up at him. 

“Of course. Anything you need.” he hums. “I guess I don’t get to drive you home anymore.” he pouts. 

“You can still come over in the middle of the night.” I nibble on my lower lip. 

“Text me when you want me.” he offers me a quick kiss. “I’m going to head out and check on the shop. Maybe I’ll see you later.” his smile causes my heart to skip a beat and I nod my head. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I decide to leave early for the club and see if anyone wants to go home early. I feel so stupid for calling into the diner. Just because I’m a couple months ahead doesn’t mean I can slack now. I shake my head confused as I see Benjis car. I park and start walking up when the front doors burst open. I gasp as I see my boss thrown to the ground.

“I didn’t make her do anything.” my boss has his hands raised as my breath catches. 

“You knew she was uncomfortable and always told you no.” Benji grabs my bosses shirt. “Do you want me to hit you again?” 

“No.” my boss wails as I look on with wide eyes. 

“No means yes to you I heard.” he chuckles before landing blow after blow on his face. I stumble towards them in shock. 

“Benji,” my voice breaks. “Benji, please.” he stops and looks up to me as his eyes soften. 

“You’re fucking crazy and you’re crazy if you think you’ll still be working here.” my boss turns to me. “You both better be gone before I call the cops.” he rises and staggers back into the club. I look to Benji with tears streaming down my face. 

“Why?” my voice breaks. “Why did you do this? You know I need this job.” I move back as he steps towards me. “My mother’s life is on the line.” 

“Baby,-“

“No.” I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to see you again. I told you not to do this. You just fucked me over Benji.” I walk backwards to my car keeping my eyes on him. 

“Y/n, please,” he looks at me with pleading eyes. 

“I can’t do this.” I shake my head and grab my handle. I get into the car and peel out of the lot with no destination in mind. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

part two will be in the works soon xx 

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch