#and that’s how they learned to stand each other | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

royaltozaki · 1 day

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hickeys and swimsuits

sana x fem!reader - trailer ▸ part 1 ▸ part 2

synposis: day 3 on the set of the bachelorette and y/n has to deal with sleeping with her best friend, a messy group date, and a tender evening.

warnings: teensy bit of smut (a quickie in the bathroom), allude to sexual harassment

w/c: 7.7k

a/n: can you tell i dislike suju? you’ll probably be able to after this LOL

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

the decision to leave or stay if you’re the first one awake after a one night stand will always be unnecessarily difficult. luckily, or maybe not depending on how you look at it, sana’s grip on you would not allow for you to escape anytime soon so you let yourself be held, your head resting on top of hers, arms thrown lazily over her side.

you’re not really sure what came over you last night. after she had kissed you, you felt a need to finish what she started. you didn’t regret it though, but you were still yet to unentangle your feelings for her and what this meant for the both of you. if it even meant anything at all, it would be easy to brush it off as a spur of the moment decision built on pent up anger and lust from being untouched for so long. at least for you anyway, you weren’t sure when the last time sana slept with someone was, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it was with jihyo, she wasn’t really one for sleeping with people without knowing them first. but maybe you were wrong, you were learning so much more about her in these last two days than you have in years of knowing her.

you’re a little unnerved thinking about the amount of people sana has slept with. taking slight satisfaction in the purple marks that littered her neck, and the rest of her body knowing that you were the reason for them.

sana’s eyes slowly flutter open as you’re tracing one of these marks and she yawns, stretching with an adorable mewl and collapsing back into you.

“mmorning.” she mumbles into your chest, voice deep and laden with sleep and you can’t help but find it unbelievably attractive.

you brush your fingers through her hair, sorting through her knots. “morning…”

you lie there for a few moments, daring each other to speak first.

she’s the one who breaks the silence, always the one with more initiative, proven last night by kissing you first, “so……… should we talk about this?”

you hum, “if you’re ready for it.”

she whines against you, lightly hitting your chest, “stop that. i wanna know what you think without deflecting to me.”

you chuckle, “sorry, but yeah it’d probably be good to talk about it. i guess we can start with, um… well did you… regret it?” you can’t help the way your heart rate picks up, maybe you weren’t really ready to brush this off as a one time thing after all.

she places a hand over your chest, right where your heart would be, looking up at you with those eyes that you could drown in, “no. i don’t regret it. do you?”

you smile at her, thankful for the reassurance she offers, “no, i don’t either.”

she smiles back at you, her fingers drumming lightly over your heart, “is this… like… what does this mean for us? because i don’t want anything to change between us, i care about you too much to lose you as my best friend.”

you frown, “i care about you too… i mean… i don’t really know, like you’re still the bachelorette of the country right now like… how do you feel about that?”

“i’m enjoying getting to know these people. some of them really do have potential i think. this timing just kinda sucks huh?”

your heart drops a little at her honesty. you start thinking maybe its time to be a little honest to yourself.

“it does but that doesn’t mean i wanna just ignore this happened sana. i don’t think…” you sigh, thoughts all muddled and on the tip of your tongue.

her hand is trailing patterns up and down your bare back, looking at you with wide eyes. you would do anything to keep that face happy.

“you’re right. the timing does kinda suck. i guess we can just… keep this casual? assuming you want this to happen again?”

she nods, but an expression washes over her face that you can’t really decipher. “alright. casual. we can do that. just like, when we need a little stress relief or whatever.”

you nod, “and it’s just temporary until like you find your person here. wouldn’t want you to be sexually frustrated or pent up or anything and make decisions based on who you wanna fuck most right?”

“right! so you’re doing me an even bigger favour right now!”

“yep!”

you’re both laying there awkward now, talking in circles convincing yourself this was a good idea.

a loud knock comes at the door, and you’re both jumping, splitting to opposite sides of the bed. you look at each other a little awkwardly, you let out a small chuckle before getting up and pulling some clothes on haphazardly and answering the door.

it's one of the costume designers, "oh! y/n! sorry i didn't know you were in there, is sana around? it's time to get changed and start the filming for today."

you hum and let the woman in with her entourage of makeup and hair stylists.

but then one of the makeup artists quickly gasps as sana reveals her neck.

you turn around and blush, sana's still naked as the day she was born, there was no reason to put on clothes when she was going to get changed into new ones anyway, her blanket falling to her waist exposing the carnage that was the evidence of last night's activities.

the people in the room look awkwardly between the two of you, and you clear your throat and walk out, giving them some privacy, your head bowed and beet red as you make your way to the kitchen.

you dimly heard some scolding from the makeup artists, but thankfully no one came after you to tell you off or anything. hopefully the design team could keep this little secret under wraps, although you could hear the gossip and rumours going around already. you'd have to be more careful going forward.

sana's got an individual date first on the schedule today. so you decide to head over to the contestants' living area after you finish your breakfast and get dressed.

the drive over is short and you enjoy the light breeze from the slightly open window. you remember the slip of paper miyeon slipped you last night, pulling it out of your pocket and typing the digits into your phone.

you're not sure what the first message you should send her is. you're hit with the sudden realisation that outside of this show she was a literal model, she probably had thousands of followers and a life of her own with friends far above your social standing.

but she wouldn't give you her number only for you to discard it right? whatever, this wasn't anything to overthink, and you wanted to check in on how miyeon was doing anyway, you quickly type out a message and hit send.

y/n: hi this is y/n - how are you? settling back in at home okay? lmk if u ever want a chat or anything i'm here <3

you're surprised at her quick reply.

miyeon: hi y/n! it's good to hear from you. yeah honestly had the best night's sleep in so long, living in the mansion with all the others is fine and all but sharing rooms with sanghee was so not. that girl did not know how to clean up after herself and had the worst sleep schedule

you laugh a little at her antics.

y/n: right forgot you were kinda prissy. dunno if i feel bad for sanghee or you

miyeon: hey!!! i am NOT prissy! idc what ppl say abt beauty sleep and whatnot but you DO need it! proper quality sleep has been proven to improve skin, regulate emotions, and keep your brain sharp! it's a really important part of the day!

y/n: yeah yeah yeah i'm rolling my eyes btw since you can't see. but im glad ur feeling better rested miyeon, its gonna be real weird without you here now

miyeon: hey u got this. and im only a text or call away if u want a break from everything going on inside, ik how crazy it gets in there so having some outside perspective can be good for you

y/n: and im really grateful for that. thankyou miyeon <3 r u gonna watch the screening of last night's ep later?

miyeon: u mean do i wanna watch myself get eliminated? i think ill pass on that thx 😂 but the contestants always watch it tgt if u wanna join them - good to have some ppl to watch along with especially since its pretty jarring seeing everyone on the big screen and how things r all edited tgt. and seeing sana may come as a shock to u too u never know

y/n: yeah ur right im actually headed there rn since sana's going on a solo date and i have nothing better to do soo... also oopsies spoiler alert but ur not gonna leak anything to the media right ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

miyeon: who knows... call me prissy one more time and ur name's gonna be on the national headlines tmr fr ;P

y/n: u wouldnt!

miyeon: i would. jks ofc i wouldn't but since ur going to the mansion anyway make sure to talk to shindong and siwon and their whole boys club. now that im out i can give u all the inside goss and if sana ends up with one of those dicks well...

y/n: oo tyty ill be sure to keep that in mind

miyeon: ofc y/n rmbr anything u need we're friends yeah? don't be a stranger :)

y/n: thanks miyeon i rly do appreciate it! talk later :))

you turn off your phone, happy that miyeon was just as receptive and positive in the real world as she was when you were together. you had nothing to worry about after all.

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

the house is in complete mayhem as you step inside. apparently someone had accidentally set off the fire alarms so everyone was already up and about and still mopping up wet patches here and there.

you spot jacky and eunji in the kitchen and make a beeline for them.

“-if you had just kept your pants on!-“

“no don’t blame this on me you know very well that i need to air dry or i’m gonna get sick and i won’t be able to perform-“

you clear your throat interrupting their… certainly intriguing conversation.

“y/n! please tell eunji it is perfectly normal to air dry after a shower.”

“not when you’re living with 15 other people!”

“i’ve lived with more than that back home and they didn’t have a problem with it!”

“because you australians are always half naked for some reason or another anyway. but you can't pull that shit here!”

jacky rolls his eyes and goes back to flipping the eggs he’s got in a pan, no doubt making lunch for the them and the rest of the contestants.

“have you eaten yet y/n? there was a bit of an accident this morning so the kitchen’s been off limits until now.”

“oh yeah i ate before i came here, thanks though. how are you guys today?”

they share a glance, “i think you’re the one who should be answering that question. heard sana made you go home after the stunt you pulled last night.”

with everything that happened you’d almost forgotten how the night actually ended for most of the other contestants.

“oh right!" you laugh a little awkwardly, "we made up so everything’s all good now. i’ll probably be laying off the alcohol for the rest of these rose ceremonies though…”

“awwwh but you’re the only one who can keep up with me! all the other guys here tap out soo early and none of the girls want to drink.”

you laugh, grabbing some plates to help jacky and eunji plate up the food they’ve prepared.

jacky’s yelling at everyone to come get their food and you follow along, greeting everyone and moving towards the couch where they were setting up to watch last night’s episode of the bachelorette along with the rest of the country. it was being aired earlier in the day today because it was the weekends and the highest stream counts for the weekends would be at this time.

you slot yourself in next to jiwon who offers a kind smile, the complete opposite of the stink eye you feel heechul giving the back of your head after you’d essentially tried to get him eliminated last night.

jun is setting up the tv and when everything’s ready he rushes back over and plops himself down on the other side of you, throwing an arm over your shoulder in a friendly greeting and looking back to heechul and the boys club as miyeon called them, flipping them off with a tongue sticking out in defense of you. you laugh with him as heechul sputters and the episode starts playing.

most of it you had already seen, although you got to hear a bit more of sana and jiwon’s conversation during the childcare group date after you’d left, as well as her conversations with the other contestants on that date. she seemed to get along with everyone there, and the kids were a good conversation sparker, sana had picked a good bunch for the first group date. the camera spent most of its time following her around as you’d expect, but it included a couple comedic clips of the others being terrible with kids. you’re all laughing and teasing each other when you see dae fall into a pit of mud after a purposeful ploy from the kids, and aww and coo when jiwon finally lies them all to rest during their afternoon nap.

the episode also includes a few cuts to the contestants in the mansion, the ones who weren't picked for the group date, so you get to see a little of how they function as a house as well.

then comes the solo date.

everyone's a little curious at what wonsik did to woo sana to get him that first impression rose from the first night. he's still just as shy and awkward as you remember from your first few interactions with him on the first night, not that that isn't what sana likes, she just usually goes for the louder, boisterous types, especially on a first impression since those are the ones that draw people's attention around them.

the date was just as extravagant as the producers said it would be. they definitely spared no expense, and from the stats you overheard them talking about, this season of the bachelorette was definitely hyping up to be the most successful season so far, it had even gained international attention for its unique approach.

after sana and wonsik's helicopter ride overlooking the valley, they were situated in a beautiful dip in the valley, overlooking lush green fields with a soft breeze and the sunset in the background.

admittedly it was cute watching them play board games and feed each other small fruits, and apparently wonsik was a much better conversationalist when he was in one-on-one situations, even cracking a few jokes that had you and the rest of the watchers laughing.

you couldn't help the pit of jealousy growing in your stomach though. you could finally realise what it was and call it jealousy but it was probably just because you were more involved with sana than ever now and you weren't good with the whole non-exclusive thing. it would take some time getting used to for sure.

but your jaw clenches when suddenly, screen-wonsik is kissing sana.

everyone in the room starts whooping and clapping wonsik on the back. you can hear the mc voice-over talking about how this was the first kiss of the season and that wonsik was a lucky guy to be getting in so early but you drown everything out as you watch the camera zoom in romantically, hyperfixated on the way sana's lips reacted against his.

he's got a hand at her waist, shuffling in closer and she has a hand carding into his hair, your eye twitches when you think you see a hint of a pink tongue dipping in.

he's laying her down and crawling on top of her on the picnic mat and it feels way too intimate for national television and you couldn't hear the sounds she could be making but you sure as hell can imagine the soft whimpers and gasps because she was making those sounds for you just hours after what was happening on the screen right now.

finally the camera pans away to a long shot of the two of them against the backdrop of the sunset and the valley and cuts to another scene of the mansion contestants but the liplock seemed to never end, even after the camera stopped shooting.

wonsik looks terribly embarassed when you turn to where all the commotion is behind you, people congratulating him on how his date went, asking for any more details that the editing could have left out, some looking on in jealousy, and some looking a little sad.

everyone's attention is shifted however when momo walks in through the door, back from her solo date with sana this morning.

all of a sudden, people are rushing towards her, asking how her date went, what they did, whether or not they kissed, poor momo looks very overwhelmed but she's not entirely focused, looking behind her and smiling.

and then again, the attention shifts, sana walking in with a bright smile, in casual clothes and jeans, waving a bright greeting at everyone.

you're still sat exactly where you are, emotions festering up inside of you.

"wow it's crazy to be here during the day! hey guys! just dropping off momo and checking in on how everyone's doing."

the excitement of the morning culminates, and its almost like a rose ceremony again, with everyone vying for sana's attention, wanting to show her around, leading her out towards the gardens, talking and chattering eagerly.

eventually, you're left inside with momo, who offers a polite wave, sitting down across from you, wonsik, who was too shy to join everyone on the tour of the house, and heechul, siwon, shindong, and seungri, the 'boys club'.

seungri's laughing boisterously, congratulating wonsik on his date with sana.

"congrats man. wouldn't have known you had it in you. did you guys get up to anything else?" he's wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. you're disgusted.

"n-no. she pushed me off pretty much as soon as the camera cut away."

"aww really? cockblock much?" shindong's snickering along.

heechul's shuffling a little closer to momo, "how about you momo? how was your date? you didn't miss that much by the way, wonsik and sana kissed yesterday on the date, that's when you walked in." he tries to offer her a kind smile, but you notice the way she's cringing, moving a little closer towards you.

"it was good. we went to a dog shelter which was really sweet of her since she knows i love them and i've been missing my two dogs back home. even had my allergy meds ready because i didn't know what we'd be doing today, shows she really listens."

you smile at momo's response, glad to hear their date went well and your heart warming learning about sana's actions.

the boys had stopped listening halfway through, going back to teasing wonsik so it was really just you and momo talking.

"yeah we also got to talking a lot since we're both from japan and all. it was really nice to be with someone who understood what it felt like to move here and be homesick, it was also the first time in a long time that i had spoken to someone in japanese that wasn't my family so it was pretty funny, well at least for her, to watch me make an absolute fool of myself stumbling over basic words and phrases."

you're laughing, knowing how much sana cares about her heritage, you were glad momo was here to be able to share that with her, you were firsthand witness to some of sana's homesickness bouts and you knew having a sense of a home away from home was extremely valuable.

"oh?" heechul butts into the conversation again, "nico nico nii~! momo-chan wa onii-chan de yonde mo ii-yo~" (t: momo you can call me big brother)

you and momo both stare at heechul for a few seconds in silence, trying to decipher what the fuck you just saw with your bare eyes, before bursting into laughter.

he looks confused, breaking his cutesy character pose and pouting and whining, "what! did i say it wrong?"

you're wiping tears off the side of your eyes, "what the fuck kinda hentai have you been watching to learn that shit heechul-"

momo's still laughing, her nose scrunching cutely, "no like! i get the nico thing like that was huge in japan like in 2015- still weird as fuck to see a grown man doing it ten years later though-"

you're both laughing between words, drawing the attention of the other occupants of the house who are rounding out back towards the living room after finishing the house tour.

sana looks curious as she's led over, "momoring, what's so funny?"

momo's turning and grinning at the sight of sana, pulling on her arm and leading her in front of heechul, "heechul do it again! for sana pleaseeeee-" she turns on the extra charm, hitting him with a final, "onegai~?" and you could see the imaginary nosebleed he gets from the action, the type that's edited into animes.

so he puts his hands up, fingers placed in the signature nico position, "nico nico nii~! sana-chan wa onii-chan de yonde mo ii-yo~"

the repeat of his absolutely embarrassing gesture sends both you and momo into another fit of laughter, clutching onto each other in weakness.

sana's face goes red and she looks to be supressing her own laughter, but she gives in eventually, letting out a loud bark and slapping momo on the back with her hand, the other hand over her mouth.

some others laugh as well, whether at the cutesy action heechul pulled, or from understanding what onii-chan meant and putting two and two together.

heechul just stands there looking awfully proud of himself for being the 'funny' guy for once.

eventually, a producer walks in, tapping sana and sliding an envelope into her hand, and gestures for all the participants to sit down.

sana clears her throat, still giggling a little as she moves towards the front of the room, "well thankyou everyone for the tour of your lovely place. i hope you all enjoy the rest of your stay here. i've got this envelope in my hand now, with the names of the next group date we'll be going on." she waves the envelope around a little, and everyone plays their part, ooh-ing and waiting in anticipation, "8 people here will be helping me out with the iconic photoshoot date!"

all the participants look around excitedly, the photoshoot date was always a fan-favourite, and it always made an appearance on every bachelor episode, usually with a few group photo shoots and always with a one-on-one photoshoot that's super romantic and revered after.

sana lets the anticipation and excitement settle in, before dramatically pulling out the piece of paper within the envelope, unfolding it, and beginning to read out names, "sunwoo."

sunwoo stands up with a smile, moving over towards sana at the usher of the producers' hands, sana returns the smile.

"eunha." a short girl with a bubbly personality skips over.

"onii-chan~" sana teasingly drags out the word and you stifle a few laughs with momo as heechul beams and stalks forward.

"siwon, shindong, seungri, nayeon."

they all stand up and walk over, you notice sana has picked people that haven't been on a date yet.

"and... wonsik!"'

there's a bit of a stunned silence across the room as wonsik gets up and approaches sana, kissing her on the cheek and taking his place next to her.

wonsik was the only person in that lineup that had already had extended one-on-one time with sana, when some others like jihyo, (although you didn't really mind much that jihyo hasn't been picked for anything yet), hadn't had the opportunity for any time outside of this mansion. so it did seem a little unfair.

you feel your earlier emotions returning to you, the incredulity of heechul's actions completely forgotten as you think back to the full-blown make out session you, along with the rest of the nation had witnessed only an hour ago.

sana's giving a few general closing remarks, telling the chosen group date members what they need to prepare, and saying she'll be waiting for them out front once they're done gathering their things.

you can tell the mood's been a bit sullied as the chosen contestants rush up towards their rooms to change and get ready, the leftover participants left sitting on their hands with nothing to do for the rest of the day.

you say your quick goodbyes, heading off after sana since you would be tagging along on this date as usual.

once you see her though, something comes over you, the heavy, yucky emotions boiling up, and you pull on her arm, a little roughly, and drag her to the nearest bathroom.

"y/n?! what-"

you shut her up, pinning her against the door, locking it and connecting your lips frantically.

she gasps into you, but melts almost immediately, kissing you back with the same amount of intensity.

your tongue peeks out, swiping lightly across her bottom lip, she gasps, and you take the opportunity to gently prod your tongue into her mouth. her tongue comes up to meet yours and she moans when they touch, her hands coming up to grip onto your shoulders.

you're reminded of the fact that someone else was fortunate enough to hear these sounds yesterday.

and you despise it. snarling slightly, you break away, leaning down to kiss along her jawline, "you moan like that for him too hmm?"

she's breathless and confused, her mind muddled with the sudden attack, "w-what? who? huh?" she cuts herself off with another moan as you find the sensitive spot behind her ear that you discovered last night.

"you know- shy little wonsik." you take an earlobe between your teeth, spitting out the name, hands starting to move, grasping her waist, thumbing the bottom of her shirt.

"w-what? n-no- ah! no i-"

"no? you sure you're not lying? looked like you had a good time with him yesterday." you're moving back towards her neck, a hand dipping underneath her shirt and feeling the warm skin of her stomach and inching upwards.

"no what? y/n- fuck-" you're sucking at the sensitive skin on her neck now, "w-wait no y/n- d-don't- no marks-"

you're snarling again, "what? can't have wonsik or the others know you're already being taken care of?" you respect her wishes though, backing off but dropping onto your knees, pushing up her top and kissing her stomach. "fine. i'm marking you up here though. and you're not gonna tell me off this time because no-one-" you suck, "gets to see this much of you right?" biting lightly, "just me hmm?" licking along your newly formed hickey.

she's got her hands in your hair now, lightly pulling in the perfect way, bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she tries to keep quiet, eyes heavy-lidded and glossed over, looking down at you with an expression you just want to devour.

so you move back up, capturing her lips once again as she moans, subtly grinding her hips against you, gasping when your hand makes its way to her left breast, kneading softly over her bra.

a tweak of the nipple and she's a whimpering mess around you, pleading, "fuck fuck y/n please-"

you tut, "you think we have enough time baby?" you're other hand that's not teasing her chest undoes the button on her jeans. "the others could be outside waiting for you right now on the other side of this door."

"please! y-yes yes we have enough time just touch me i'm- fuck- soaked already it won't take much- please-"

you undo her jeans with ease, slipping your hand into her underwear, the other one still kneading and groping her chest.

"mm you are soaked baby." you trace down her center, "were you like this yesterday when he was kissing you?" you find her clit and rub, a little harsher than the way she likes but she leaks onto you at the action.

"n-no stop- ugh- stop talking about him y/n what the fuck-"

you continue your assault on her clit, your other hand sliding under her bra and pinching a nipple as she jolts into you, "get used to it. you're the nation's sweetheart right now. you and him are all they're going to be talking about after that show you put on yesterday."

her head lolls back, hitting the door softly as she groans, "h-he doesn't get me like this though. only y-you do- fuck- please y/n please just fuck me."

you don't have much time to keep teasing her so you quickly push into her, cursing at the way she clenches around you immediately, all tight and hot and wet. you don't waste any time, thrusting in and out of her as her head comes back down, biting on your shoulder to keep her voice in.

"mm- mm- faster- baby please-"

you take in her request, plunging into her and adding another finger, in and out, in and out. the wet sounds of her pussy filling the bathroom, you don't have too much arm space to move with her jeans still in the way, but you make do, conscious that the both of you needed to look presentable very soon.

you're pretty much the only thing holding her up now, her legs having gave way a while ago, your hand moving out from under her shirt, holding her hips up and against the door as you thrust into her, thankful that the lack of space meant the door wasn't making too much noise.

you feel her getting tighter around you, bringing a thumb up to press against her clit, "this gets you off doesn't it-" you're slightly out of breath, "knowing just a few meters away the guy you kissed just hours before being fucked senseless by me is waiting for you for even the slightest chance he'll get to feel you tight and hot around him like you are around me right now."

she's mewling, her face still buried in your neck, becoming impossibly tighter again at your words.

"they can't do it like this. everytime you kiss one of them, you'll know you're coming back home to be fucked by me."

you punctuate the end of your sentence with a curl of your fingers inside her, hooking on as she cums with a muffled whine.

and just in time too, when a loud knock on the bathroom door jolts the both of you, you pull out quickly and help zip up her jeans again while she recovers.

"sana? everyone's ready and waiting for you now."

"c-coming!"

her voice is scratchy and shaky, still leaning onto you as you readjust her shirt and comb your fingers through her hair, trying to make her presentable again.

you smirk a little at her word choice, stifling a laugh as you fix her, but she catches you, sending a weak slap onto your shoulder.

you step back and look at her, she's still breathing slightly heavily but otherwise no real damage can be seen.

"okay you're good."

she sidesteps you to check herself in the mirror quickly, adjusting a little. "jeez y/n didn't think you'd become so much of a sex fiend when we said we'd keep it casual."

you roll your eyes, "hurry up your lovers are waiting for you." you wait for her to go out first though, following behind closely as you greet everyone again, a little thrilled at having to act as if nothing happened in the last 10 minutes between the living room and the car you're getting into right now.

sana's her usual smiley self around everyone, and you take glee in knowing that just minutes prior you were literally inside her and pulling noises out of her no one else here would be able to hear.

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

the group date was certainly shaping up to be one of the most interesting dates of the season.

right now, nayeon, sana, and eunha were learning a short dance number together. their whole set was dressing up as idols so instead of doing a photoshoot, they were going to shoot a small tiktok so it could be used as promotion for the show as well.

before them, sunwoo and sana had done a black-tie sort of concept where they were dressed in a long suit and flowing dress with masquerade masks on. it was all very mysterious and romantic. siwon was also in the set but he was acting as a butler, it was tradition to have photoshoot themes where one contestant was always trying to get in between the set couple, both for some drama and some comedic relief.

the next set involved all the boys stripping down for a beach theme. you had a hunch it was also just to increase the sex appeal of the show. sex sells after all.

and so, sana was put in a tiny bikini, and you had to run from her glare as the makeup artist gaped at the newly formed mark on her upper stomach. so much for no visible marks.

you rolled your eyes as the boys whooped and cheered as they watched sana enter the set. you scoff as almost all of their eyes went straight to either her chest or her ass.

nayeon and eunha come to stand next to you after they're finished changing out of their outfits to observe.

the photographer is telling them the directions for the first scene, sana was going to be lifted up onto seungri and sunwoo's shoulders, you can hear siwon whining and complaining about how sunwoo already had his almost solo photoshoot with her and it should be him.

no one pays him much mind though as seungri immediately goes for sana, lifting her up easily as she squeals in surprise, and settling her on one of his shoulders as sunwoo quickly steps in so sana's rested on his shoulder as well. you squint at the way seungri is looking up at sana.

"ugh that was so unnecessary." nayeon is glaring at them as well.

"right, the way he went at the first chance to grab her ass," eunha scoffs next to her as well, "trust seungri to be as gross as ever."

you raise an eyebrow at the two of them, "is this a common occurrence in the house?"

nayeon shrugs, "seungri's an ass. they all are. except for sunwoo maybe." you nod, noting the way sunwoo refuses to look up at sana, staring straight ahead at the camera, a hand placed carefully over her knee just to make sure she doesn't fall off.

"most of the girls just tend to leave them to their own devices inside the house. we don't really interact with them unless we have to. the first night, jacky almost beat up siwon for shit talking eunji."

they're moving into the second position, this time sana's on her knees with a sandcastle in front of her, and wonsik and shindong are helping her build it, with the other boys goofing off in the background.

"what'd he say?" you ask eunha, eyes still locked onto the scene in front of you.

"some shit about how she ought to look more like a girl. take out the piercings, grow out her hair, cover up her tattoos, all that bull. and that's not even the worst part, he just kept going on and on and then he called her a dyke and that's when jacky lost it."

"what the fuck?"

"yeah. he knows not to say shit around the other guys that aren't in his group now. but he still takes every chance he gets to try and 'convert' us." eunha says in quotation marks.

nayeon chimes in, "doesn't see us as competition because we're girls. just more possibilities for him in case sana doesn't pick him in the end."

shindong has built a slight protrusion out of the sand castle, you can't really tell what he's doing but the photographer is muttering and calling over a few producers who look a little frazzled.

they move on quickly, directing everyone into the ocean for the last shot.

"miyeon told me to keep an eye out for them. guess she was right."

they both look at you in surprise, "you've been talking to miyeon?"

you shrug, watching as sana shrieks when sunwoo playfully splashes water her way, urging her to come in deeper. "she gave me her number after she was eliminated, i texted her this morning."

"how's she doing? it felt terrible watching her go instead of heechul yesterday. honestly had to question sana's judgement a little."

you cringe a little remembering last night, "she's doing okay i think. and-"

you're interrupted by a commotion in the water, and you're running in without thinking, nayeon and eunha not far behind.

by the time you get there, sana's already out of the water, an arm over her chest, covering herself as the costume people quickly go in and shield her, scrambling and yelling for clothes.

you turn on your heel, stalking over to the cameras you knew were filming and shouting for them all to be cut.

once you’re sure that no one is taking advantage of sana anymore and filming without her consent, you’re spinning back to watch as producers are trying to pull apart sunwoo and seungri, seungri sporting a nasty looking black eye and a bleeding nose.

you’re quick to rush over to sana first though, she’s in an oversized shirt now with a towel wrapped around her.

“what happened? are you okay?”

she sniffles a little, her nose slightly red, “yeah yeah i’m fine. the waves were just really big and i didn’t see them coming. my top came undone and i thought seungri was coming towards me to help tie it back up but he.. um, well…” she blushes and looks away.

you're livid.

the producers look thankful as you march up towards them, hoping you were there to help the situation, but you walk straight up to seungri, bringing a knee up into his crotch, hard, and when he keels over in pain, you swing an uppercut right into his face.

you would've kicked him as well if there aren't suddenly arms around you, yanking you backwards, and you let them, but then you get a glimpse of a stupid grin and you knew it was seungri's buddies pulling you away you start writhing. your fist connects with a couple hard spots and you smirk when you hear a few groans of pain. eventually, it's sunwoo who pulls the guys off you harshly, throwing them down into the sand and standing next to you, still glaring at seungri.

"you think you're real slick huh? think you could get away with sexually harassing someone on national television?" you're seething, spitting words out as seungri is still doubled over.

"couldn't keep it in your pants for more than 2 minutes you'd risk your entire career and face-"

"y/n." sana's stepping up to you now, a hand on your shoulder trying to pacify you.

"pack your things and leave seungri. i never want to see you again. you can talk with your lawyers about editing that scene out but i have a feeling it'll be left in because drama pays more than whatever you can offer."

seungri is finally up, still bleeding and probably sporting a broken nose now, "but-"

"you heard her. get the fuck outta here before we press charges." you step forward now, and he shrinks, afraid you'll go for his balls again.

security has finally arrived on scene and they escort seungri off the premises.

things are still pretty much in disarray after that, but despite everything, sana still powers through, rejecting the offer to stop filming for today, instead, picking sunwoo as the star of the group date, the rest of you are sent back to either get changed or head back to the mansion to get ready for the night's rose ceremony.

you desperately want a moment alone with sana to check in with her. but she seems headstrong on bulldozing through the rest of the day, and you're whisked away soon enough.

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

the gossip spreads quickly.

after you've gotten changed into your outfit for the night, a sleek white suit with your hair carefully done up, courtesy of the costume and hair and makeup teams back at the bachelorette pad, you're sipping on a flute of champagne, talking with everyone about how the group date went.

"-and she sent him home after." eunha's finished telling the story to a few gasps and looks of shock.

"i knew i shoulda clocked that guy as soon as he made that comment about jiwon's dress." jacky's muttering, fists clenched in anger.

"poor sana i hope she's okay."

"yeah she was really incredible tonight to be fair. the producers had asked if she wanted a break and to continue filming tomorrow but she said she wanted to keep going."

"and sunwoo too, i'm glad he went in there and defended her. as jealous as i am that he won i'm glad she has him right now if she wants to talk." nayeon speaks up.

jihyo's loud voice is suddenly shouting from across the courtyard, "guys! look it's sana and sunwoo!"

everyone's rushing over towards the beach where it seems they had a long walk down from the photoshoot location all the way back to the mansion. your heart's pounding, wanting so badly to be with sana right now, to listen to her, to be angry for her, to be the one pulling her into an embrace right now as the contestants aww at the two of them hugging with the picturesque twilight in the background, sea breeze blowing softly.

they break away eventually, looking up towards all of you who wave and holler at them.

then they've interlocked hands, slowly making their way up to the mansion.

everyone is greeting each other again, but the producers quickly cut it short, saying the both of them have to go and get dressed so that the rose ceremony can begin.

the group disperses with a grumble, and you find yourself following sana, the costume designers not paying you any mind as you enter the designated dressing room inside the mansion.

"hey..."

sana jumps slightly but relaxes when she sees you, "hey yourself. what are you doing here?"

"just wanted to check in on you."

she tuts, "you're sweet y/n but there's no need for that. he was an ass and i sent him home. we don't have to worry about him anymore."

"yeah but.. like it's okay to still feel affected you know?"

she turns around, "zip me up?"

you nod, stepping forward and carefully reaching for the zipper on her back, sliding it up slowly, making sure it doesn't get caught on any outstanding threads.

she sighs, holding her hair over one shoulder so you can slide the zipper all the way up, "i'm just trying to get through today. after today's done... well if i still want to talk about it then i'll tell you. okay?"

you sigh softly against her, pressing your lips lightly against the back of her neck, "alright. just don't try to do everything yourself okay? i'm here."

a hand comes up and rests over yours, "i know baby. thankyou. c'mon, let's get this ceremony outta the way so we can go home and cuddle."

you hum, taking her hand and letting her lead you out of the dressing room and towards the courtyard.

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹

you're getting a serious case of deja vu when the last 4 people are standing.

4 people were meant to be eliminated tonight, but since seungri was asked to leave early, sana only had to pick 3 more to leave.

the choices were between shindong, siwon, heechul, and jiwon.

surely this time sana wouldn't make a decision that was too surprising.

"jiwon." you can feel most of the room letting out a collective sigh of relief, and the stunned faces of the three leftover guys you wished you could frame and put up. there were bound to be screenshots and memes made off them anyway.

unlike the previous nights, no one really moves in to say goodbye to any of the guys, just waving a polite greeting as they exit.

the mc comes in next and wishes everyone a good night. sana goes forward to mingle a little more, wishing everyone well before she comes back to you, taking your hand and pulling you towards the front of the house, eager to go home.

the ride back is quiet but peaceful. you're hands have never left each others and you enjoy the short ride back to your shared home. once the driver has dropped you off you both head inside, take off those godforsaken heels, and drop down onto the couch.

sana's head in your lap, as you turn on the tv, pressing play on a random cartoon, carding your fingers through her hair.

you can tell the day has exhausted her, so you let her eyes drift shut, and her breathing even out, reaching for the blanket kept next to the couch and draping it over her.

you could take off her makeup and change her clothes later before taking her to bed, but for now, you were content to watch silly cartoons with sana safe in your hands.

#sana #minatozaki sana #twice sana #sana x reader #sana x fem!reader #sana x f!reader #sana smut #sana imagines #twice x reader #twice imagines #twice x fem!reader #twice x f!reader #twice #royaltozaki

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emeraldborealis · 16 hours

Text

Grotesque

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x FEM!reader

TW//CW: DARK FIC, stalking, vibes of somnophilia ish, sexual harassment, nonconsensual touching, threats, mention of cannibalism but no cannibalism, threatened necrophilia, a creep calls reader a whore, murder, graphic depictions of gore, blood, shock induced mania, talk of human taxidermy, no use of y/n. Dead dove do not eat. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION.

Words: 4,641

A/N: Now you may be wondering, Emerald, what the actual hell is this? Well, I wanted to know if I could still write dark fics. And I thought it was time to remind everyone this started as a horror writing blog.

STOP! Have you heeded the warnings on this fic?

People say something special happens when you fall in love, that suddenly everything else doesn't matter. That there's a warmth and gentleness that grows inside of you towards the other person.

But not for Ghost.

Ghost doesn't deal in warm gentleness. Simon did, but Simon is dead and buried in Mexico.

When Ghost saw you he did feel something sudden, an urge to keep everyone else away from you, an urge to protect, an urge to keep and shepherd.

So he did.

From a distance he kept his eye on you, watched you go through your days, completely unsuspecting. Or so he thought.

You knew he was there, you knew from day one. Knowing he was there was more of a comfort than a fear, so when the sound of your front door opening in the middle of the night came to your ears you were more than content to pretend you were still asleep.

Keeping your breathing even and deep, keeping your expression neutral, letting nothing tip him off to the fact you were awake was a skill you learned in your youth, one you needed to survive the house you grew up in.

You were lonely, and you were alright with him taking advantage of that. You wanted him in your life because there was nothing else in your life. A phantom, a ghost willing to watch over you. Something that stayed in the dark, content with silent control.

His footsteps were light coming down the hall, almost silent, if you weren't listening for him you wouldn't have heard him. You wondered how many times he'd come and you hadn't woken up.

Hearing him pause in the hallway you imagined him looking at your photos, committing them all to memory, each one of their locations and if they were perfectly level or not. You knew he'd take in every detail before moving on, he just seemed like the type.

Your door used to make noise when it opened, but a month back it suddenly stopped. A reminder of his silent presence ever lingering, you often wondered if he'd fixed other things for the convenience of his watching, of his sneaking.

Nothing was allowed to jeopardize his stalking, nothing was allowed to tip you off to his presence. Nothing was allowed to give you evidence to stop him.

Listening, you heard him move silently through your room, coming to stand beside your bed, your acting was imperceivable, especially when you weren't looking for it.

You didn't react when the soft feeling of a gloved hand trailed over your face, the glove was rough, but he used it gently, kept his touch featherlight, barely even there.

His hand went from your face down your exposed arm, feeling the lovely skin of your appendage sticking out of the blankets for the sake of regulating your body temperature. The feeling nearly made gooseflesh blossom on your skin, nearly made you shudder. Do sleeping people shudder? Looking into that could be good for future visits from your stalker.

You felt his figure lean over you, breathing you in like a bad habit, when he was satisfied he moved from your side of the bed to the other side. Gently, he laid himself down, stiff as a board laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. You were familiar with this routine by now.

He laid like a corpse, his hands clasped together over his chest. He never did more than this, never touched, never hurt. He just laid beside you for a few hours before leaving just as silently as he came, always making sure to whisper 'sweet dreams' to you before leaving hours before your alarm for work would blare into your room.

Every once and a while you would dare to put your arm over him, sometimes he moved your arm gently off of him, sometimes he let it stay.

Sometimes he watches you sleep, either facing you in bed or sitting in your desk chair.

You wished you understood him, understood why he does the things he does. Wish you understood why he didn't do certain things.

He really was a ghost, your Ghost. A mystery you weren't sure you'd ever figure out.

Rolling onto your back you flopped your arm on him, not holding him, just touching him, testing him. He didn't remove your arm this night, he let it stay, resting right above where his hands were.

You had no clue what he looked like, not really. The few times you dared a peak he was wearing a balaclava with a skull on it. But you'd grown familiar with how he breathed, the rise and fall of his large chest. That was what mattered to you, not his face. Not who he was under the skull.

Feeling him beside you didn't feel wrong, it didn't feel nauseating or dangerous. He had the capability to do harm, but he'd never left any indication that was his intention. He just seemed interested in watching you live your life. Why? You didn't know.

Sometimes you thought about what would happen if he decided to have malicious intent, how far he might go. What he might do. He was a strange man stalking you, and you were letting him.

You were just asking to be an episode on a true crime podcast, solved or unsolved? What would it be? You suspected unsolved, even if you lived.

If he killed you how would he do it? It was interesting to think about. Would he hack you into pieces? String you apart, pull at your nervous system. Dissect you like a frog. Maybe he'd fillet you, hang you up and eat you. Or perhaps he'd take it slower, break your ankles and watch you starve to death helpless on the floor, he did like to watch you.

If he hurt you, if he touched you, he'd want to watch you as he did it. He'd want to see your face as it contorted into pain.

Really at the end of the day he was a man, no different from any other, you were risking just as much being around him as any other man. At least you believed if he witnessed another man trying to attack you he'd intervene, protect his territory.

His belongings.

Did he see himself as your keeper? Or more like a guard dog? What were his intentions here? Why was he this little shadow in your life? It seemed like he was always there, a force that lingered around you.

Your Ghost, something that was becoming a more common name for him in your mind. It seemed fitting.

To say you weren't attached to him would be a lie, he's grown on you, something consistent, something you could make yourself believe was there to be good for you. You were becoming just as infatuated with him as he seemed to be with you.

You were comfortable falling asleep beside him, letting him stay as long as he wanted before leaving. He always locked the door on his way out, after all, he was the only one allowed to creep into your home.

Shifting in bed you got more comfortable, you needed to let yourself fall back asleep if you wanted to be able to function well at work tomorrow. Your Ghost paid no mind to your shifting, he's watched you sleep in actuality and faking it enough to believe he'll never get caught. Not knowing he already has been.

At some point in the night you vaguely feel the bed shift, faintly hear his deep voice whisper something in your ear, and his soft footsteps as he leaves.

In the morning there was no trace of him, nothing tipping you off to the fact he was ever even there, nothing but your memory.

You dreaded your arrival at work, dreaded seeing him.

Brian.

A creep in HR, you would have reported him by now but he was who you would file those reports to. You didn't know who else to file a report to, nothing was serious enough for police intervention.

At least there was no evidence serious enough for police intervention.

Sometimes you hoped your Ghost knew about him, that he was watching your back, though you doubted he watched you at work. Still, the thought of him handling this was not unwelcome. You took a strange comfort in it actually.

Brian was not welcome in your life, he was pushy, touchy, didn't understand boundaries. Something about him gave you the heebie-jeebies, like he was doing all sorts of nefarious things to you in his mind, planning them out, waiting to execute them.

You hated how he watched you, he was doing more than just undressing you with his eyes. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel like he wanted to do more to your skin than just molest it. Do more than possess and sink under your surface.

He looked to covet. Your Ghost looked to encroach and observe.

You liked how your Ghost watched you, like a guard dog willing to be sicked on anyone, to be your defense, to get them off of you, to keep them away from you.

"Come on, doll. When are you going to agree to come over? Let me pour you a drink, I promise I can mix you up something you'll like. Or at least let me drive you home sometime, there's no need to take the train when it's raining. Don't want you catching a cold." Brian cooed to you, walking with you as you made your way to the elevator, he always waited for you.

You'd only step into the elevator with him when it was crowded, otherwise you'd wait, make an excuse and talk to the lady at the front desk until you saw someone you knew would go up to your floor or above.

You refused to be alone with him. Not even for a second.

"I don't drink. And I like the rain." You shot him down, trying to step around him, but his arm caught your waist, stopping you.

"Okay, how about we watch a movie? Play a game?" He gave your waist a squeeze, testing your patience. He was a persistent man who believed he would get what he wanted. You wondered how many times he had. How many girls came before you.

"I'm not interested." Spinning out of his hold you continued walking towards the elevator, a good group of people already waiting.

"Come on, doll. I'll make it worth your time." He trailed after you.

You didn't like the thought that he had access to your address, that he might know where you lived, that all he'd have to do to figure it out is look at your personal records.

"I have a boyfriend. We're serious, he stays the night almost every night. I'm not interested." A small lie, laced with truth, you did have a man who stays the night. Your Ghost. You needed him to know you weren't alone at night.

There was a warning light in your brain that was starting to predict something. Something was coming. How does the quote go? 'By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.'

Something was coming, something you were not sure how to stop. You were in terrible danger, you could feel it in the way his hands defiled you with their touch. Scorching and burning with how atrocious it was.

"That's alright, I just want to spend time with you. Nothing serious." Everyday he grew more bold. A predator closing in on their prey.

You were not going to be a boiled frog, you knew when this started, and you know the temperature is rising to dangerous peaks.

How many girls has he done this to?

How many.

"I don't think my boyfriend would like that, he's protective." Joining the others waiting on the elevator you watched the floor indicator, nearly holding your breath waiting for it to reach ground level.

"Protective? I'm no danger." Leaning in closer he whispered in your ear, careful now that you were surrounded by people. No witnesses. No one else could hear his persistence, it might one day arise suspicion.

"I like to spend time with him when I'm off work. I'm a busy person." You took a breath as the elevator doors opened, stepping inside with everyone else.

"We'll talk more about this later. I just want to get to know the next employee of the month better." His voice was sickeningly charming, his words derailing your train of thought.

"What?" You hadn't heard anything about that, you weren't even super important in your department. He was baiting you with reward. Setting himself up as innocent, someone who was rooting for you. A devastated work friend when he hears of your inevitable disappearance.

He played this game too well.

How many girls came before?

How many times has he gotten away with this?

"I pulled some strings, got you some well earned recognition. We need to celebrate it." His smile was all teeth, unnatural. It was a threat.

You really couldn't tell anyone about this now, not after he's painted himself as the good guy. Just trying to get employee's recognition. You'd sound like an ungrateful asshole. No one would listen.

No one would listen.

"Today, we will celebrate today." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

Whatever he was planning, whatever he was going to do to you, he was going to do it today. Nothing was going to stop him or get in his way. He was coming for you, going for the throat.

You worked in paranoia and unease, took an early lunch just to avoid any possibility of running into him and completely left the building, went to a very public place for lunch. Didn't even pay attention to what you ordered, not even sure you paid before walking away. You got your food though, so someone paid.

In your panicked state you were struggling to pay any attention to the people around you, only looking for one person in the crowds of people. But he wasn't there. Brian wasn't there. Not that you could see.

Running into someone on your way to the door out of the restaurant you apologize, catching his eyes, they were brown. He was tall, well built. Dirty blonde. He oozed an energy that settled you, like your body knew him. Of course it didn't, you'd never seen this man in your life. There was just something about him.

"No worries, love." You couldn't shake your feeling of deja vu hearing his voice. "Keep your head on straight, no ones goin' to get you."

What an odd thing to say to a stranger.

"Um, thanks." You didn't know what else to say. How else to respond. You stand in front of him a moment more, awkwardly looking at him. There was just something about him you couldn't place.

Checking the time you turned to walk away, you were going over your thirty minute lunch break. You needed to get back to work. Even if you'd rather have your eyes gouged out than have the possibility to run into Brian ever again.

You were jumpy the rest of the work day, hypervigilant to everything around you. It wasn't atypical for Brian to interrupt your work, but he didn't come to bother you today.

You tried to leave work early to avoid him, but he was already waiting for you when you reached the main floor.

"I missed you at lunch today." There was something sinister in his eyes, something that didn't match his tone of forced pleasantry. "No matter. We'll go to that new pub tonight. We can meet there or I will pick you up." It was a threat, a subtle way to make sure you knew he knew where you lived. That he would come for you if you tried to skip out on him.

You'd rather he come to your house. Maybe your faithful watchdog would step in, maybe he'd help you. Maybe he'd stop him. Protect what's his.

If not, you'd rather have whatever's going to happen, happen somewhere you know. Somewhere you've once felt safe. You'd rather die surrounded by your memories than wherever he'd take you, somewhere probably cold and unfeeling.

"Okay." You had nothing else to say, rejection wouldn't work. This wasn't ever going to be a date, this was always going to be an assault.

You were scared. A cornered animal with no way out. Despite your best efforts the water was starting to boil, and you had let it happen.

Getting home didn't calm your nerves, it almost made them worse. Waiting for the arrival of the beast, waiting to be devoured, bones and all.

Is this how the spring lambs feel? Screaming as they go down the line to the slaughter. All just to satisfy a man's hunger.

Is that all women are good for? Satisfying men's hunger, lust, need for violence. Has it always been this way? Women are fucked and murdered. Will they ask what you were wearing? Blame the victim like they always do.

Like they always do.

Maybe this would have eventually happened with your Ghost too, maybe this was just how the world works. Maybe men just have that right.

It was inevitable, unpreventable.

It was late when the knock finally came, the sun long gone. There was nothing, no one who would shine a light on what was about to happen. Only the women with their podcasts will ever wonder what really happened to you. What led to this.

Making eye contact with your front door only death stared back. Wicked wasn't coming. Wicked was here upon you, waiting for you to open the door for it to come in and take you.

The knock came again, like the toll of a bell. Ringing through your ears like a sick mantra. There was no way out of this. There was nothing you could do.

Your feet shuffled towards the door, it was like walking down death row.

The bell tolls for you.

There was a hope inside of you that you'd open the door to your Ghost, that he's come to save you. That you could let in your stalker rather than your murderer.

Grasping your doorknob felt like grabbing red hot metal, scorching and branding your skin, the last thing that would probably ever have your full set of fingerprints.

You wondered if you'd fight, if you'd fight to survive or if you'd let him kill you.

It's a strange feeling, coming face to face with your mortality.

Slowly you twisted the doorknob, letting the devil in.

"I knew you'd let me in." The door was pushed open, pushing you back, removing your last barrier. Bringing you face to face with Brian. "A whore like you was probably just waiting for a guy like me to come along. You wanted this. Didn't you? You want me to ravage you, don't you? So needy."

He was clutching his stomach, he was bleeding. He'd been stabbed.

You couldn't make sense of it. Was it your Ghost? Where was he now? Was he dead? Did he try to stop this?

Brian reached for you, making you stumble back, out of his grasp.

"Don't." Your feet wouldn't take you farther, they wouldn't let you run away. They'd take you right where he couldn't reach you, but they wouldn't let you get away.

Maybe you did want this. Maybe every girl wanted this. Maybe that's why men thought it was okay.

"Come on, don't be like that. I know I kept you waiting but I got held up." He took a step closer, stalking towards you. "You'll look so good with the others."

No.

You didn't want this. You never wanted this. No one ever wanted this.

This wasn't right.

He didn't have the right.

Your mind was flittering, it was hard to make it work, hard to force yourself to stay present. It's always been hard to make it work in situations like this, it hurts less when you just let yourself get hurt. But you didn't want to be hurt anymore.

"Don't touch me." You took another step back, he was blocking the front door, but you could get out the back. Maybe someone will help you, maybe your neighbors will let you in.

"Come on, you knew it'd always come to this. I'm taking you home." You should have done more, should have opened the door with a knife. Should have been ready for him.

"No. You're not." Turning you ran, struggling with the backdoor for a moment in your adrenaline and panic, but you got it open. Slipping out you held down a scream, it wouldn't help you right now to lose your mind screaming. You needed to get away.

You didn't get far before he was on you.

Hands pushed you down to the ground, flipping you on your back, his hands found purchase on your neck, pulling you up before bashing you down, knocking the wind out of you. "A pretty doll like you would be better stuffed, skin perfectly preserved and taxidermied. Of course it would be better if I could have killed you without leaving damage, your bastard friend made sure that couldn't be a possibility. He got his, and you'll get yours."

Hands squeezed at your throat, the pressure in your head overwhelming, your eyes felt like they were going to pop out of your skull. Maybe that would help with the pressure.

"I'll separate your head from your body, that will take care of these marks. I'll figure something out for the rest of the damage. But don't worry, I'll turn you into a work of art. You'll be the prettiest out of them all."

Wrestling with your panicking body he slotted himself between your legs to continue to choke you, pressing uncomfortably into you. A promise of what would come once you stopped moving.

You were going to die. He was going to kill you.

You were going to die.

Your hands desperately reached out, searching. Searching for anything that could help you. This couldn't be it, he couldn't do this. You couldn't die.

Finding a large rock you took hold of it with all your might, bashing it against his head, making him fall limp on top of you, blood from his head soaking into your hair, his face partially on yours.

His open mouth wreaked of Benson & Hedges cigarettes and tooth rot, saliva leaking onto your cheek. Pushing with all your might you shoved him off, adrenaline didn't allow for your hand to relax enough to drop your rock, the veins in your arms rising to the surface.

When his face scrunched and his body twitched you could hear a scream. Was that you? You didn't know anymore. Your body moved without prompt, bashing him again. And again, and again.

You hardly flinched as the blood peppered your skin, drops of crimson spraying your face. You bashed to the symphony of bones cracking, it was the only thing you could hear, the only thing filling your ears, and yet you continued, bashing until the rock in your hands was hard to hold, slippery and covered in red and grey matter.

You bashed until you felt the rock connect with the damp grass through where his face once was, nothing recognizable left of his head, nothing but the skull fragments and brain matter. Everything else was unidentifiable.

Horror and shock filled you at the sight, he wasn't dead was he? He couldn't be. He can't be dead. He wasn't a person who was dead, so he couldn't be dead.

Desperately you felt for a pulse on his neck. You didn't find one. As a last ditch effort you checked the hole of his stab wound in his stomach. It was warm. He was still warm.

He was okay. He was alright. Dead people aren't warm.

But that warmth meant he wasn't done, he wasn't done killing you, he hadn't succeeded yet. The thought made you scream. He wasn't done with you.

He hadn't succeeded yet, and he was supposed to succeed, that was his goal wasn't it? He couldn't fail. You couldn't have stopped him, you weren't capable of that. You were just a girl. You didn't have that right.

You needed more of his warmth, needed it coating you. Needed him to finish his task. His warmth was proof he would.

Searching for more you pressed your fingers inside, warmth squishing around your fingers, it felt good. Familiar almost. A familiar squelch.

It was what you needed. More. More. More.

Wriggling your fingers inside you tested the limits of the wound, it wouldn't stretch farther, you couldn't get to more of his warmth.

But you needed more.

Getting fingers in from both hands you searched for grip through the unending amounts of red liquid around your hands.

Finding it you pulled, tearing it apart, the feeling of ripping flesh a rewarding feeling.

You were getting more, getting to the warmth.

Your digits were digging now, puncturing into his gut, ripping and tearing, pulling out viscera and entrails. Blood perfectly coated the scene, coated you, painting an elegant picture in rouge, and most importantly, warmth.

There was a need, a desire, this couldn't be over yet, he couldn't be done yet. He wasn't done yet. You weren't dead yet, so he wasn't done.

Something pulled tight around your neck, a scarf of the small intestine, wrapping, suffocating. Pulled this tight it almost felt like his hands lovingly around your neck once more, crushing your windpipe. This was that beautiful feeling you were looking for, this was what you needed.

He wasn't done, he hadn't finished yet. You weren't dead yet, but now he could finish, now his slick warmth could finish the job.

Pulling tighter on the two ends of the thin warm viscera that same pressure in your skull was building again, a fuzziness in your vision. You couldn't breathe. It was perfect.

You needed more.

Pulling harder the scarf tightened, it wasn't enough yet, you needed to pull tighter, harder.

With the grotesque sound of tearing the pressure around your neck was gone. Air now filling your lungs in gasps, a burning feeling accompanying each inhale.

Looking down you were still holding the intestine, now in two pieces, the fluids from inside of it making your skin irritated and itchy.

He'd failed. Again.

Hearing a sound from behind you didn't startle you, turning your head your eyes met the hollow eyes of your Ghost, the white of his skull balaclava nearly glowing in the dark. "I broke him." You mumbled, disappointed, presenting the two ends of his guts to him. "You would have finished the job, right? You wouldn't have broke?"

"Of course, love." Crouching beside you he wiped the blood on your check. "I wouldn't break on you like 'e did."

"He wasn't done. He was supposed to kill me. And now he's just a mess. A useless mess. And I'm covered in him." Tears fell from your eyes, your voice whining out of your sore throat.

"Don't cry, you're perfect." Your Ghost pulled the intestine from your hands, letting it fall onto the heap of Brian's unidentifiable carcass. "Come on now, let's get you cleaned up."

The feeling of his arms slipping around your back and under your knees wasn't repulsive like it was when Brian would touch you, your Ghost's touch wasn't nauseating.

Hoisting you up your Ghost carried you away from the scene. "But what about the mess here?"

"I've called people who will come take care of it, I 'ave connections. The police will get involved, 'is victims families deserve to know what 'appened to them. But nothin' bad will happen to you. You'll be just fine. I'll make sure of it. I'm takin' care of you now, love. There's nothin' to worry about." His voice was soothing, the nose of his skull balaclava pressing against your temple. "I've got you now."

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 day

Note

Looks like a group of guys from your college won’t leave you alone.

Oh would you look at that,

1940’s!MobBoss!Bucky Barnes

has got your back, and will continue to have your back forever.

(Also hi babes!!! 🤗🤗Thousand kisses from me to you! 💋💋)

Have Your Back Forever And Always » 40s Bucky Barnes

Pairings: Mob Boss!40s Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky steps in and saves you from the guys in your friend group who won’t leave you alone.

Warnings: Fluff, language, alcohol, smoking, unwanted touching, kissing, use of pet names

A/N: @amathslutsguidetofandom I love the thought of 1940s!Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes and decided to write it as a one shot🥰🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“No thank you.” You say, politely turning down a drink from one of the guys you go to college with.

“C’mon, sweetheart. It’s just one drink.” Gerald says, wrapping his arm around your waist.

Bucky watched from the other side of the bar as you continued to politely turn the guys down, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer. He could tell how uncomfortable you were.

“It’s just a drink, Y/N.” Fred says, putting his hand on your thigh.

That made you even more uncomfortable than you already were. Bucky downed the rest of his drink and made his way towards you.

“She said no.” Bucky says, standing behind Gerald and Fred.

“No one asked you, man.” Fred says.

“Why don’t you run along?” Gerald says.

Bucky chuckled before grabbing the back of their necks and slamming their heads against the bar counter, making everyone in the bar go quiet and look at them. You quickly stood up and backed away with wide eyes.

“How about you two run along?” Bucky says.

They were too scared to say anything so they just nodded their heads. Bucky let go of them and they stood up. They were about to bolt out of the bar when Bucky grabbed the back of their shirts.

“If I ever and I mean ever see you two near her again, I won’t hesitate to kick your asses, got it?” He says.

“Got it.” They say in unison.

Bucky let go of them and they sprinted out of the bar. You stood there with a surprised look on your face. No one has never done that for you.

“Are you ok, ma’am?” Bucky asks softly.

“I am now. Thank you.” You say, giving him a smile.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks.

“I’d like to know your name first.” You say.

“James Barnes.” He held his hand out for you to shake. “Everyone I know calls me Bucky.” He says.

“Nice to meet you, James.” You shook his hand. “I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself. “Now that we know each other’s names, I’ll accept that drink now.” You say with a smile.

You and Bucky took a seat at the bar counter and he ordered you two drinks.

“So tell me, doll face…” Bucky took a sip of his bourbon before asking his question. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing at a bar like this?” He asks.

“I go to the local college and I wanted to come here for a couple drinks after all the studying I’ve been doing lately.” You tell him.

“What are you studying?” He asks curiously.

“I want to be a nurse.” You say.

“That’s amazing. I hope all that studying pays off.” He says.

“I hope so too. I graduate next month.” You say.

You learned that Bucky is one of the most powerful men in Brooklyn, New York. You and Bucky spent the whole night talking and getting to know each other till the bar was about to close. He even offered to walk you home from the bar. Bucky being the gentleman he is, wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you close to him and to protect you.

“Thank you for saving me and for walking me home, James.” You say with a smile.

“You don’t have to thank me, babydoll. I have your back forever and always.” Bucky smiles. “If you don’t mind, I would like to see you again.” He says.

“I would absolutely love that.” You smiled. “I’m free tomorrow afternoon after school.” You say.

“Great so it’s a date.” He says.

Bucky cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately. Your hands grasped his suit jacket to steady yourself. Your lips moved in sync with his. It felt like everything around you guys was in slow motion. Bucky pulled away slowly, looking deep in your eyes.

“See you tomorrow afternoon, doll.” Bucky says softly.

“See you tomorrow, Bucky.” You say, smiling widely.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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euphternal · 21 hours

Note

gf!paige hcs pls🤲🤲🤲

paige bueckers gf headcanon 💖

notes: you asked... i shall recieve !! taglist form, if anyone wanna be tagged in my works !! @imsobabygiirl @Bibella8swan @xxloveralways14 @sunkissed-zegras @fake-intelligences !! and requests are open !! 🎀

౨ৎ ⋆ ｡˚

౨ৎ paige bueckers, star on the court, always has eyes on her, but she only has eyes for you after practice

౨ৎ you meet because you’re both grabbing the last smoothie at the cafe near campus, and she lets you have it with a wink

౨ৎ she invites you to her games; you don’t know much about basketball, but you quickly learn because you love seeing her passion

౨ৎ after her games, win or lose, she looks for you in the stands first thing, and your smile is what brightens her day

౨ৎ study dates are frequent; you help her with history, and she explains sports stats, you're both laughing at how different your majors are

౨ৎ she wears your hoodies because they smell like you, and they’re oversized on her—she looks adorable

౨ৎ slow dances in her dorm room after tough matches when she needs to unwind and you need to remind her that there’s more to life than just sports

౨ৎ you both try cooking dinner together; it’s a mess and half the dinner ends up burnt, but you end up ordering pizza and watching movies under a shared blanket

౨ৎ paige introduces you to her team; they’re protective at first but soon they adore you because you make her incredibly happy

౨ৎ random text messages during the day just to say “i love you” or “you’ve got this!” because you both understand how busy life can get

౨ৎ she teaches you how to shoot hoops; you’re terrible at it, but she loves teaching you, her arms wrapped around yours, guiding your shots

౨ৎ social media posts are rare but heartfelt; when she posts about you, it’s always with a caption about how lucky she feels

౨ৎ graduation day, she writes in your cap, “forever my number one fan and my number one love”

౨ৎ planning a future together, not sure where you’ll end up, but knowing you’ll navigate it side by side, supporting each other’s dreams no matter what

#paige bueckers headcannon #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball

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s1m0nth3swag · 2 days

Text

Leon S. Kennedy Scenarios

Some sweet and short Leon Scenarios, all inspired by the wonderful @leonw4nter who sent me some of her ideas (gen love you for that)

Three scenarios in this one, all fluffy and cute because Leon deserves happiness, and I will be the one giving it to him !!!

Info about the scenario at the start of each one

[Leon says he isn't hungry, then proceeds to steal your food | Was intended for Death Island Leon, but honestly, I think it'd fit better for Vendetta]

You glare at your boyfriend of a year as you shovel food onto your plate. There was a usual way of going about this. Leon would say he wasn't hungry, that he'd eaten at work, and that you shouldn't make a serving for him as well. Each time, you'd stupidly trust his words, which would inevitably end in him casually helping himself to steal parts of your food, all under the disguise of suddenly being just a little bit hungry. This time, you were prepared. You had prepared a second serving and were ready to defend your food with your life.

You trotted to the couch of your shared apartment, flopped down on it, and swiftly put the TV on. Leon followed after you wordlessly, and you just instinctively knew he was up to something. He always was. He sat beside you, rested his head on your shoulder sweetly - you immediately held your food up as his hand shot out. “You said you aren't hungry!” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you scooted away from the other defensively. “Oh come on, that was so long ago. I just want a little taste!” Leon almost pouts, though the mischievous sparkle in his eyes instantly betrays him. “Fuck off! Get some yourself. There's still more in the kitchen!” You respond, kicking him playfully as he tries to get closer. He puts on his best expression of betrayal, trying to make you feel sorry for him. “That's all the way back there! I've already sat down. It ain't fair!” He exclaims. “Come on, just a little bit, please.” He pleads, resting his head on your knee as he stares up at you. He almost looks like a dog begging for food now. “No, get your lazy ass up and get it yourself.” You simply say, rolling your eyes as you casually continue eating.

Leon stares you down the entire time, waiting for the moment that his usual food manipulation tactic works - you stubbornly stand your ground, though. Each time he opens his mouth to complain once again, you simply shush him and tell him the exact placement of the rest of the food in the kitchen. After you finally set your plate down on the small table beside the couch, Leon huffs as he moves to sprawl himself on top of you. “You're awful.” He pouts, snuggling his face against the side of your neck. “Just get your own food, love. Ain't that hard.” You chuckle and run your fingers through his hair, feeling his following sigh as the air hits your neck. His arms wrap around you tightly as he snuggles further against you. “Isn't fair.” He mumbles. “You're supposed to share with me and shit.” You giggle. “I made you a second serving. You could've taken that, just saying.” Leon doesn't answer, too stubborn to do so as he rests on top of you.

“Next time.” He mutters after a while as you feel him smirk against your neck. “Sure.” You laugh softly. “Next time.”

[Matching Pyjamas with Death Island Leon]

Even though Leon grumbles about being too old for childish things like this, you know that deep down he is more than thrilled as you present him the clothes you had ordered. A set of matching hello kitty pyjamas that you had bought on a whim - you definitely needed to learn how to not spend your money on the most random things (the fact that you had used Leons credit card was a minor issue for that plan though). He looked at you, sighing as he watched how excited you were. “Please Lee, you only gotta wear them this once I swear!” You begged, and you swore it was visible that his facade crumbled down. “Fine, fine. This once.” He gives in, grabbing his set from your hands swiftly. “No pictures, no laughing or I swear you'll regret.” Leon then adds, slightly glaring at you because he knew for a fact that you had taken pictures of him sleeping before - in your defense, the way he cuddled up to you during the night was just too adorable. You quickly nodded, though, even if you planned on breaking that unspoken promise. You were pretty sure Leon knew that already.

He insisted on changing in the bathroom, something about it being a surprise - he probably just wanted to stare at himself in the mirror and rethink all his life choices. You hummed excitedly, patiently waiting as you sat on the side of your shared bed. The second he stepped out you grinned widely, giggling as he came to stand in front of you. “Happy?” He asked, answered by you snaking your arms around him while nodding. “Extremely so.” You sigh, resting your head against the soft fabric of the sleep shirt. “Good. Can we sleep now?” He grumbles, his cheeks ever so slightly flushed. You knew he enjoyed this more than he wanted to let show. “Nuh uh! Gotta take pictures first!” You smile, and Leon groans as he realises that he'd be in for a longer night than he had planned.

[Re2 Leon being head over heels for you (and getting made fun of for it) No Outbreak!]

Leon can't help but grin widely at the text you've sent him, almost like he has to read it over and over again to have it imprinted on his brain or he'll die. He's taking his lunch break right now, nestled into one of the break rooms chairs. You've agreed to come see him and get him something to eat, because he totally forgot his food at home - he definitely didn't not take it on purpose so you'd have to come save him.

The two of you had only been dating for a month or so, but Leon already dreamed of a wedding and waking up next to you every morning - which had happened only once up until now. It had been a stormy day, and during the evening it only got worse, which led to you simply staying over. Leon still got that tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered how cute you had looked with your bed hair. If he wasn't such a gentleman, or if he wasn't so shy about it, he wouldn't have let you go the whole day. He giggles as he looks back through old messages - he especially likes the outfit checks you sometimes send him, he can't help but grin at the pictures and videos, his cheeks flushing as he thinks about how wonderful you look, no matter what you wear. He comes across the one where you stayed home for a day, and he swears his heart bursts with how adorable you look in your pajamas.

Leon knows he's getting weird looks from his workmates, but he really doesn't care. He's in love, he's allowed to be a little giggly and blushy, even if the others don't agree. Chris looks over his shoulder briefly, sighing a soft “simp”, and Leon shoots him a glare before lighting up at the sight of you walking into the break room. He immediately jumps from his seat, moving to give you a hug. “Missed you, Baby.” He mumbles, face snuggled against your hair, taking in the soft scent of your shampoo. “Can't have missed them much when you're on your phone the entire time looking at their pictures.” Chris speaks, and Leon would be mad at that, if you weren't giggling as hugging him back. “Brought you some snacks.” You hum, and Leon's heart practically stops in his chest with how cute you are - as if he hadn't been the one to tell you to get him food.

Moments later, he sits at the table again, you on his lap, because he insisted that the chairs would be too uncomfortable for you. He munches on one of the sweet treats you had brought him while you spoke about your day so far, Leon was definitely the happiest guy alive right now. He places soft kisses on your neck and jaw every now and then, smiling at you. He'd definitely die happy if it was by your side.

#leon vendetta #re2 leon #leon x reader #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon death island #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader

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majesty-madness · 2 days

Text

Back Then - Husband!Sebastian Sallow x Wife!reader (sfw)

Summary: As the first week of marriage comes to a close inside they’re new home, Y/N can’t help but to think back on the old days.

Word Count: 1300+

Warnings: slight angst, kissing, newly married Sebastian & reader, mostly fluff, a bit of suggestive content (like one joke, and the ending)

a/n: Not proofread. Fucking love this game (perhaps a bit too much).

Main Masterlist

It’s night out, Y/N stands in the lamp lighted bedroom, staring out the window overlooking the front garden. She can hear the crickets chirping outside and the fireflies are in full bloom in the darkened night. She’s already dressed herself in her white nightgown, the material soft on her skin.

Though she stood in the house she shared with her husband, her mind wandered back in time when she met him for the very first time. It had been in Defense Against the Dark Arts Class, learning to duel with an opponent, and the words “Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome” caused a soft chuckle to slip past her lips.

Even though he sounded overconfident, his words made her giddy with excitement and then she’d won. She had surprised herself when she managed to pull that off. And when he walked up to her she was expecting a snarky remark or perhaps a nasty comment but he’d said, “You give as good as you get.” He also smirked playfully at her before walking away and she couldn’t deny the way his words caused a flurry of warmth to rush to her cheeks back then.

As soon as they’d met, she knew she was done for.

Again a laugh escaped her and without her knowledge her husband had come back to their bedroom, fresh from his bath. Sebastian stared lovingly as he watched his beautiful wife laugh quietly to herself.

Throwing the towel he just used to dry his hair onto a nearby chair, he silently approached his wife from behind and when he was close enough to gently wrap his arms around her waist she didn’t flinch or jump away, instead she pressed her back against his chest as she melted into his warmth.

“What are you laughing about?” Sebastian asked, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of her neck.

She smiled in return, “I was just thinking about the first time we met.”

Sebastian hummed back at her answer, pressing several other kisses into her skin. “Mmhm, we met in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, we dueled each other, remember?”

Sebastian scoffed, “How could I forget the moment I met the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?”

This caused both of them to laugh at the playful comment before Y/N continued. “I remember you walking up to me, saying ‘Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome,’ very confident of you I must say.”

“Well I had a reputation to uphold.” Sebastian reasoned.

This time Y/N scoffed. “Yeah, and as I recall I swept that reputation right from underneath you.”

“That wouldn’t be the last time I was underneath you.”

Y/N gasped then slapped him on the arm, causing him to burrow into her neck once more with a laugh. “Don’t be so crude, I was reminiscing about school.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, darling.” Sebastian half-heartedly apologized although he meant no such thing.

There was a pause as the two of them listened to the crickets outside, both taking a deep breath and feeling each other decompress in their exhale.

“I didn’t realize it then, but that was the start of so many things.” Y/N uttered fondly, oblivious to Sebastian’s sudden frown.

“The start of so many mistakes.” Sebastian spoke softly, almost repeating Y/N’s exact words.

Only turning her head, Y/N stared up at Sebastian as she observed his expression. “Don't do that to yourself.”

He couldn’t help but to shake his head. “I can’t help thinking about it all. The desperation, the anger, the betrayal; I wished we had met in different circumstances then perhaps our fifth year together might have been normal.”

“Sebastian…” Y/N huffed, the makings of a smirk spreading across her lips. “I was entering Hogwarts for the first time as a fifth year student who could see traces of an ancient magic, who would complete these trails created by wizards from long ago to see their memories and ended up fighting a goblin turned dragon before the year ended.”

Sebastian looked down to see his wife smirking. “Regardless of how we met, our fifth year was never going to be normal.”

Just like that the dark thoughts whirling in were cast away by Y/N’s light hearted humor, and it didn’t hurt that she was absolutely correct.

He let out a deep root laugh, nuzzling into Y/N’s neck once more and began to gently sway her in his arms. “I suppose you’re right, darling. And I believe that even if my situation hadn’t been what it was, we would’ve met eventually anyhow.”

Y/N pulled away a bit only to turn to face him while still in his embrace, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck. “Call it fate. Someone had to keep an eye on you.”

“Well I’m glad to have had your company, Mrs. Sallow, even if it was to keep me out of trouble.”

“To be fair, I didn’t do a very good job at it.”

Tightening his hold around her back, he pressed Y/N further into his chest. “True. Probably wasn’t the wisest to send the ancient magic prodigy to babysit a no good scoundrel.”

He said it like it was a joke, but the regret quickly filling his eyes didn’t fool Y/N. Her expression fell into that of compassion and without thinking, she brought her hand up to softly caress the underside of his jaw.

“Hey now..” The words barely a whisper as she spoke. “I love you and despite it all, I’m glad that I met you. I’ve never had any regrets about that so you shouldn’t either.”

“I love you too.” Was all he said then leaned in to plant a tender kiss to Y/N’s lips. First it was the soft, overly gentle kiss that most new couples share in moments of vulnerability but seamlessly turned deeper, passionate. The heat of lust rising within and fanning the flames of love that survived the hardships promised to every living being.

Their hands began to wander over the familiar plane of their partner, taking note of the thumping heartbeat and the sudden warmth enveloping the skin. They continued this memorized dance for several more seconds, pulling away only when the need to air outweighed the need for the other. A light panting exchanged between the two when Y/N’s eyes had left Sebastian’s for just a moment to stare at the bed.

“The sheets…” She breathlessly uttered.

His brow furrowed slightly. “What about them?”

She looked back at him. “They’re new.”

“And?”

Y/N brought her hands to seductively fiddle with the two tops buttons of Sebastain’s nightshirt, only to finally unbutton them completely. “Annnd,” she let the word roll on her tongue for longer than necessary, “I think that it’s time that we break them in, see how they hold up.”

She could almost see the ways his eyes darkened at the promiscuous suggestion though he chuckled despite the heat growing in his groin. “Good idea, darling, it’s best we make good use of the new house. See what we can get away with.”

Sebastian had let his hand drift from her back over the plump flesh of her bottom, giving her rear a small squeeze and suddenly lowering his hands to the back of her thighs to lift her up into the air. Y/N let out a gasp at the motion with a sweet giggle bursting from her throat right after as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her towards their bed. She gave him a few pecks on lips, continuing to do so even as her back was lowered to the plush material of the mattress.

For the remainder of the evening, Y/N and Sebastian got lost in each other’s touch; not sure where one ended and the other began. And into the late hours of the night, Y/N couldn’t help reminiscing on how much her life had changed.

Through all the pain, the battles, the injuries, and broken hearts, Y/N would always be thankful that she met the trouble making fifth year: Sebastian Sallow, a good friend and the love of her life.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x female!reader #sebastian sallow x f!mc #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanart

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sugar-coat-it · 13 hours

Text

Body piercer! Matty part three

Part 1, Part 2

I missed writing for this man so much my god he is my everything. If you haven’t read the other parts, go ahead and do that first for context perhaps!

Fem! Reader

Contains: Mutual pining, cutie newly established relationship, mention of marijuana, proud concert bf Matty, him being protective of girlie at the show, exhibitionism (light petting in the crowd), rough quickie (unprotected), public sex (bathroom), fingering and fucking on the counter, Matty puts his hand over her mouth, mirror sex, choking (with jewelry)

WC: ~6.3k

—-------------------------------------

PART THREE- Your new boyfriend takes you to a punk show, ending with a quickie in the venue bathroom

—-------------------------------------

Both you and Matty knew in your hearts that this wasn’t just a fling. Flings didn’t stay up for endless hours on the phone, knowing damn well that you both had work the next morning. Flings also didn’t think about each other for every waking minute, always sending each other sentimental messages when things reminded them of each other. And, they certainly don’t touch you the way Matty touches you: like he’s like he’s been starved of you his entire life. He’d frankly been losing his mind, constantly daydreaming at work as he stared at the Polaroid of the two of you he kept at the front desk, knowing he couldn’t stand not calling you his girlfriend much longer. Not after the past couple of weeks you’d been seeing each other had been some of the best of his life. He was so antsy over the fact that he couldn’t actually call you his that it was eating him alive, where else would he ever find someone as perfect for him as you? His work friends teased him endlessly for being so head over his platform boot heels, telling him how he needed to lock you down as soon as possible. He endearingly calls you his “favorite client”, but you’ve quickly become his favorite everything (“No. You don’t even get it, mate,” he’d said, rambling on to some poor guy whose ears he was piercing, “she's like… the light of my life, really”). But, considering that you couldn’t close your eyes without picturing his pretty brown irises staring back at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges with all his twinkling, wild mirth, you weren’t faring much better.

Just as you’d hoped from that first night together, his sleepy eyes were in fact now a constant in your life. He asked you to be his girlfriend after taking you back to the same cafe where you’d had your blind date. Needless to say, it was an enthusiastic yes on your part, and everything has been so much brighter since, you can hardly imagine your life without all of his ruckus. Your days with him are long and lazy, and the nights are even longer, often spent wrapped up in his sheets or giggling while curled up on his couch after a smoke session.

You’ve learned a lot about Matty in the time you’ve been together. Like his tendency to leave things in your flat, his ungodly marijuana tolerance levels, and his love for his puppy Mayhem. You’ve also found that he takes his music very seriously. Listening to music is like a ritual to him, one that he refuses to partake in with “trashy” music. You call it snobbery, he calls it having good taste, and lately, he’s been trying to share that taste with you. He’s almost been subtly brainwashing you into getting into his bands, playing their songs in his car, burning some of their tracks on his CD mixtapes for you (always scrawled with cute Sharpie doodles and bad handwriting), humming the melodies of his favorite songs to you while cuddling. Honestly, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working, you’ve found yourself adding his music to your playlists, combining your styles much like how the mohawked man has slowly rooted his way into every corner of your life.

So of course, words couldn’t describe how thrilled he was when you agreed to see one of his favorite bands play at a punk rock show. He’d approached you with the idea tentatively, explaining that it was fine if you didn’t want to go, he’d just take one of his mates from work if so. The way his face lit up when you said yes, your heart could have burst as you watched his eyes sparkle with pure unbridled joy. Then, he leaned in and kissed every inch of your face, ignoring your giggles and protests of him tickling you while he declared how much you were going to love it.

When the day of the show arrived, you kept your outfit simple: baggy, ripped jeans, a white tank top, a band hoodie, and a studded belt you recovered from the depths of your closet, figuring you’d at least blend in with the grungier crowd that way. You put on one last thing to complete the look, hooking Matty’s chunky, silver chain (that of course, he’d left on your dresser) around your neck. You smile to yourself as you tuck it under your clothes, liking the feel of having him close to your heart like this. When did you become such a sap?

Meanwhile, Matty was pacing around your flat, making sure he had everything he needed and that you’d get there in time for doors. His reasoning for being punctual was much less about him than it was for you. He wanted you to fully experience being close to the stage because he knows how much you like to take pictures at shows, your constantly full phone storage being a telltale sign of that. He was going full-on concert boyfriend mode, also keeping your lipstick and your wallet in his little hip pouch so you wouldn’t have to worry about carrying anything but your phone. He’d clearly thought this through quite a lot, he’d been looking forward to it for weeks.

A sudden kiss to his cheek quiets the hum of his overactive mind when you approach him, his furrowed brows sloping to a soft look of adoration as he insists on you standing still so he can take a good look at your outfit. He holds his fingers up in front of him in the shape of a square, squinting one eye closed like he’s framing you for a memory. Sure, the relationship was shiny and new, but something about the way he looked at you told you this wasn’t going to dull with time’s cruel hands, not any time soon at least.

“Ohh, yeah. Very punk rock, baby,” he smiles slyly, chuckling as you roll your eyes.

“Hardly! I don’t exactly have the wardrobe for this.”

“Shh, nonsense. You’re like a regular Joan Jett, babe. But hotter.”

“But hotter? Wow,” you laugh, now glancing down at the jewelry adorning his hands and wrists, “I like your bracelet.”

Matty cringes, sucking a breath through his teeth while looking up towards the ceiling. He recalls just how he’d obtained said bracelet as a teenager with something to prove. He was never a bad kid, just a highly restless one who got bored too easily. Besides, he never got in any real trouble since his parents would have strung him up by his toes otherwise.

“Erm, thanks. I think I nicked it when I was a teen.”

“You were a delinquent!?” you exclaim, causing Matty’s loud laughter to ring through the apartment.

“That’s a strong term, innit? Let’s call it… misguided… and stupid. Now c’mon, out the door, miss.”

You shake your head playfully as he shoos you out of the flat, imagining a younger version of your boyfriend getting into all sorts of mischief. You can almost perfectly picture his toothy, boyish grin as he runs around the streets of his hometown with his mates by his side, freckle-faced and carefree, his curls in an unruly mop on his head. You wonder if you would have gotten along with him in his younger, wilder days. An odd part of you hopes he still would have liked you.

“Why do you still have it?” you ask as you start your walk to the train together. “What can I say? I’m unbelievably sentimental.”

The train ride is quiet, you share his wireless earbuds and listen to music side by side. The deal was that the queue of songs switched back and forth, you got to play one song, then him. He leans his head against your shoulder, the muss of hair atop the shaved sides of his head grazing your neck. He almost falls asleep as you start to scratch the top of his head. But, inevitably, all of his energy comes rushing back to him when the train comes to a halt. Immediately, he’s grabbing your hand to bound down the street to the venue, shouting about how good of a spot you’re going to get.

—---------------------------------------------

Once inside, at a glance, you don’t exactly fit in here. A sort of insecurity festers in you as you eye some of the girls dressed in spikes and leather, they looked like they belonged here, and so did your boyfriend. But, you try to shake it off nonetheless, even if you didn’t feel nearly as cool as you wanted to. This place was like the high council of people who exclusively wear clothes with tears in them.

Matty stands close behind you as you pack in with the rest of the grungy-looking crowd. His hands are on your hips as he glances around, making sure that you have enough space to stand comfortably. He knows how these shows can get, and he’s made it his personal mission to make sure no one ruins the experience for you. He shoots a look at any guy who tries to stand too close to you, the coldness of his stare sending them inching away from your personal space with cowardice. In an instant, the mean look is wiped off his face as he glances down at you, seeing how happy you seem to be there with him. He leans down, the cool metal of his chain grazing your neck as he speaks near your ear, just loud enough so you can hear him over the buzz of chatter throughout the venue.

“Can you see alright?” he asks, giving your hips a little squeeze.

You nod with a smile, having a fairly clear view of the stage. You’re only about three rows back thanks to Matty’s punctuality. You turn your head, grasping the necklace around his neck gently before pulling him down further so you can kiss his cheek. A grin breaks out on your boyfriend’s face, he can’t help but chuckle at your little move, he loves it when you get bold with him. His lips brush against your ear as he murmurs “little minx” before standing back up to his full height.

Matty talks over the pre-show music as he tells you a bit of background about the bands playing tonight, prattling on about who plays what and what makes them so cool. You listen to him with an enamored look plastered on your face, nodding along even when you have no clue what he’s talking about, but what else is new? It only makes you adore him more with every detail rattled off from the depths of his mind.

“... and this one here I don’t know shit about, to be honest. I reckon they’re probably fine though,” he shrugs, showing you the lineup on his phone.

You squint at the screen, tapping your nail against one of the names you recognize because of him. You blink up at him prettily, knowing he’s going to get a kick out of what you say next.

“This is the one with the guy who plays the drums with two pedals, right?” you recall, tilting your head at him, knowing damn well that you’re laying it on thick.

“Yes!! Yes, exactly,” he beams, his eyes instantly lighting up before he presses an enthusiastic kiss to your temple, “That’s my fuckin’ girl. The coolest girlfriend.”

Soon, the show begins, and Matty lets out an excited whoop as the first band makes their entrance, the one he’d bought the tickets for in the first place. He lets go of your hips, taking a small step back to give you the room to dance if you want to. He’s so considerate of you, it makes a glowing sort of warmth swell in your chest. You glance back at him and he gives you two thumbs up, his face scrunching up with a grin that’s so earnestly Matty, you have to resist the urge to just grab him and kiss him till your lips are raw right in the middle of the crowd. Not to mention how fucking good he looks tonight, his tank top allowing his tattooed arms to be on full display, and it should be illegal how tightly those black leather pants cling to his legs.

Your attention turns back to the stage as the first notes ring through the small venue, grungy guitar chords echoing off of the walls. Nothing gives you the same feeling as live music does, the pure thrill it makes rush through you is unmatched (sorry, Matty). The music is harsh, it grates on your ears, but in the best way possible. It’s invigorating, fucking electrifying, it’s thrumming in the hollow of your chest. You feel alive. Matty leans over to see it all happen from just a step away, watching the stage lights reflect in your eyes. He hadn’t looked at the band once, this was far more mesmerizing than anything that could be happening up there. You’ve completely captured his attention, and when you start bobbing your head to the beat and singing along to the chorus, Matty almost drops to one knee right then and there. He’s already mentally noted that this song will in fact be played at your wedding reception.

As the set goes on, his eyes stay on you for the majority of the time, he’s just so taken by watching you have this much fun hearing his music, which is now your music too. He’s simply beaming with pride. Every time you look back at him with that thrilled look on your face while you’re moving to the rhythm only solidifies to him that you’re his absolute dream girl. And of course, he’s having the time of his life too. Matty mouthes along to all of the words, nodding his head in a way that makes his quaffed mohawk bounce with his movements. And, shit, it’s hot in the crowd, you can feel the heat radiating off of the bodies moving around you. The hoodie you brought may have been an oversight, you can practically feel your mascara melting off of your lashes.

The show goes on, and when the moshing in the middle of the crowd gets increasingly rowdy, one man gets shoved and sent hurtling past the bodies between you and the mosh pit. You quickly hold your hands out to brace for the impact, knowing this can’t end well as you prepare to meet your leather-jacketed doom. The man is visibly very intoxicated and he would have stumbled straight into your body from the momentum if Matty’s hands hadn’t shot out to block him, catching him by his shoulders.

“Oi! Watch where you’re fuckin’ going, fuck’s sake!” Matty spits, sending him back toward the pit with a light push.

Now, had Matty done his fair share of moshing and getting absolutely catapulted into other people at breakneck velocity? Yes. It’s not even entirely the guy’s fault that he almost crashed into you, he was pretty drunk and didn’t have his wits or his balance about him, but in Matty’s mind, he might as well have tried to tackle you to the ground WWE style.

“I could have caught him!” you argue over the music, laughing at the bitter look on your boyfriend's face.

Matty raises an eyebrow at you and shakes his head with an amused smile, but doesn’t argue. Maybe you could have, but he wasn’t about to let some sloshed idiot break his girlfriend's back because that’s his job, dammit.

The band’s set is finished with a bang, the final chords echoing in your ears as you try to catch your breath from moving almost nonstop, your heart thundering against your ribs. You turn around to face Matty with a giant grin plastered on your face, letting out a breathless, excited laugh. He just chuckles, eyeing the strands of hair sticking to your face from the sheen of sweat, your smudged makeup rimming your wide eyes. He’s not in much better shape, his tank top is clinging to his body like a second skin. By this point, your hoodie feels like it has its own climate, and you’re dying to peel it off.

“Fun?” he asks, as you start to lift the fabric over your head.

“Oh my god, yeah,” you breathe, your voice muffled by the hoodie.

“I-”

His next words die in his throat as his eyes immediately snap to your chest, his breath catching as he spots the clear outline of your nipple piercings through your drenched, white tank top and- was that one of his chains around your neck? He feels a stir in his tight leather pants as his mouth slightly drops, he can’t remember ever being so instantly and completely turned on. Heat ripples through his body, climbing up to his face as he shamelessly stares at your tits. Not only were you showing off his skillful work, but your pretty neck was adorned with the chain he’d forgotten all about at your place. It might even look better on you than it does on him.

You’re tying your hoodie around your waist when you catch the look on his face, your brows knitting together with confusion till you follow his gaze and find your piercings proudly displayed through your shirt. As the realization dawns on you, you look up at your boyfriend with a coy smile. Matty shudders, lust crowding his mind as he struggles to come up with a coherent thought, one that isn’t wildly pornographic. He can actually feel his hands tense with the urge to grasp, to lay claim to you with his fingertips. You simply look up at him through your lashes, watching him short-circuit right before your eyes.

Before he has the chance to say or do anything, the next band comes onto the stage, the crowd roaring to life a second time. You give him a knowing look before turning back around to face the direction of the music. Matty swallows hard, raking a hand through his mohawk like he’s grappling with demons… and losing.

The music is nothing more than a pulsing beat in his skull, his attention is fully on the back of your head. He begins to inch forward to you, his hands finding a home on your hips while you vibe to the beat. He brings your hips back against him, feeling your movements stutter as the protrusion in his trousers presses into your ass as if to say “Feel what you did to me?”. You get the message loud and clear, draping your weight against him, your head lolling back against his shoulder as you both rock to the beat of the drums, sweaty skin to sweaty skin. Matty’s hands begin to wander, mapping over the damp fabric of your tank top, up your stomach, over your ribs till- oh. You gasp, the stage lights strobing under your closed eyes as he squeezes your tits through your top. Matty can distinctly feel the barbells through the thin fabric, it drives him fucking wild. Your lips part as you melt into him like honey, your skin feels like it’s on fire as the music blares through the venue. Your stomach swoops when he dares to flick the piercings with his fingertips, danger humming in your veins as he gets bolder, as if you’re not surrounded by a sea of people. Your eyes snap open, you quickly glance around to find that everyone’s far too enthralled with the show to notice, not that Matty would give a shit if they did. No one can hear the way you whimper when he pinches your nipples. You stare down at the large hands that possessively grope your breasts, feeling a throb resound between your thighs.

“Matty, you said this was the band you don’t know, right?” you call to him, your voice uneven and unnaturally high-pitched.

His heavily lidded eyes look almost black with the way they darken as he reads between the lines. Even if it was one of the bands he liked, he’s pretty sure absolutely nothing could stop him from doing what comes next, not when his dick is this hard, and you’ve teased him this salaciously. Wordlessly, Matty lets go of your chest and grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd towards the exit. He moves fast, the urgency in his strides and on his face likely making people move out of the way quicker. You’d feel concerned about losing your spot up front if your mind wasn’t so scrambled with need, your legs rushing to keep up with your lanky boyfriend.

Your head is spinning as he swiftly leads you into the nearest gender-neutral bathroom. Matty’s hands are on you the moment he closes and locks the door, he’s all over you in every sense of the term. You breathe in the musk of his sweat between the melding of your lips. The kiss is messy, it’s searingly hot as he desperately licks into your mouth, his fingertips digging into your hip bones. He backs you up blindly until your hips meet the bathroom counter, his hands reaching to undo the hoodie tied around your waist and toss it aside without breaking the kiss once. You didn’t think you could get much hotter than you were in the crowd, but now you’re burning up from the inside with white-hot desire.

Matty hastily turns you around to face the bathroom mirror, tagged with graffiti and littered with lipstick prints at the border. It was clear that the space was well-loved, but clean. A culmination of every aspiring artist and sticker enthusiast in the area, almost no spot on the wall was left untouched. Your eyes are drawn away from the decor as Matty grasps your jaw from behind you, turning your head to make you meet the almost feral look in his eyes through the mirror. He holds you that way as he leans down to press dire, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his other hand snaking down your front to unbutton your pants. The feeling of his tongue stud soothing over faded love bites only makes you weaker in the knees. Matty fumbles with the zipper of your jeans for a moment before he shoves the clothing down your legs, the fabric pooling around your ankles. It’s clear that he’s not wasting time with his usual delicate, worshiping caresses of your thighs while he undresses you, this is an electrified frenzy.

“No bra, baby? Is that how you want to play?” he mutters, his lips grazing the column of your neck teasingly.

“I-I didn’t-” you begin to protest, only to be cut off by your own moan as he gives a rough pinch to your nipple through your top.

Matty follows the curve of your midsection with his hand, intense honey-colored eyes locked on you through your reflection, the image swirled at the edges with colorful spray paint. A shudder reverberates through your body as his fingers venture lower, dipping below the waistband of your soaked panties. Your body instinctually arches backward against his, mewling when his calloused fingertips brush against your swollen clit. It’s like he can light up every one of your senses with just a graze, your breath getting shallower by the second. You feel his stiff cock twitch in his trousers as you press yourself impossibly closer to him, every inch of his glowing skin flush against your back. Matty continues his loving assault on your neck as his thick digits gather the arousal pooling between your thighs. Your dazed vision trails downward as you stare at his hand shoved inside your panties from behind you, watching the fabric shift with every movement of his skilled hand. You whine as he circles your slit before beginning to sink his slicked fingers into you, your eyes squeezing shut as the dizzying pleasure thrums in your veins.

“Shhh. You know how much I love your pretty noises, baby, but be good, okay? Can you do that? Don’t want anyone to know what we’re up to, do you?” he murmurs, dragging his plush bottom lip against your ear lobe.

You nod wordlessly, afraid that if you open your mouth, noise will overflow from you uncontrollably, his fingers being knuckle-deep in you is just too damn good. If you don’t control yourself, anyone outside could hear you, could know how good your boyfriend is filling you with his fingers, satisfying you to your very core. The thought of it alone makes your heart hammer in your chest harder. You don’t want them to know… because that would be wrong, it would be undignified… it’d be… kind of hot.

His digits stretch you open as he begins to diligently pump them in and out of you, curling them towards the spot that he knows will make you see stars. He works quickly, his pace is almost feverish from his determination to make you fall to pieces as efficiently as he can. Matty’s other hand is groping your breast, squeezing the fullness of it, his rings pressing into your flesh through your thin tank top. You bite down on your lip hard enough that you think you might tear the flesh open, desperately trying to keep your whimpers quiet. Matty’s gaze on you is cautionary, his eyebrows slightly raised like he’s testing you, seeing just how much you can take.

The last of your defenses come crumbling down as the pad of his thumb presses against your clit, the flood of sensations making a moan burst from your throat as he begins to draw tight circles on the bundle of nerves. In an instant, Matty’s hand is off of your chest and is clasped over your mouth, muffling any noise. Fuck.

“I mean it. Pipe down, or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, smirking at you as he feels your walls flutter around his fingers.

“No- no, please don’t stop,” you babble against his palm like the idea of it was simply unbearable.

Matty’s hand stays firmly over your mouth as he withdraws his fingers from inside you, ignoring the way you squirm in protest, whining uselessly. He tugs your ruined panties down your legs, letting them join your pants in a heap around your ankles. It’s almost embarrassing how you can hardly contain your desire, but he likes it that way, knowing how needy you are.

“Matty, please, fuck, need it,” you mumble, and he can see the way your desire is clawing at you from the inside just from a glance.

“Be patient for me, my love,” he smiles, hurriedly pulling himself out of his uncomfortably skin-tight pants with his free hand, “You’ll get what you want. Being stuffed full with my cock, hm?”

You whimper as Matty nudges your legs further apart with his foot, leaning you forward over the counter onto your elbows. He whistles lowly at the sight of you, his eyes following down your spine, over the curve of your ass, and to your dripping pussy. You tremble slightly as he reaches between your legs, collecting your honey on his fingers before spreading it over his shaft, slicking himself with your arousal. A whine vibrates against the palm Matty holds over your mouth as you swing your hips in a desperate attempt to entice him. He just chuckles darkly, keeping his hand securely in place as starts to guide his cock through your folds, the head kissing your aching clit as he rubs it back and forth.

Matty doesn’t waste a second longer, you can hardly process it before he’s pushing inside of you, gasping as he fills you inch by inch. His fingertips press into the side of your face as he tightens his hold on your mouth to muffle your mewls, watching as your lashes flutter, your face contorting with pleasure. He can feel your hot, heavy breaths fanning into his palm, your chest heaving as he bottoms out inside of you. Matty groans loudly, tossing his head back as he’s fully surrounded by your velvety warmth, forgetting his own volume rules that he’d set for you. Hypocrite.

“Oh, fuck, you feel so good,” he sighs, reaching to pull your tank top over your breasts, “Stay like that for me, yeah? Wanna see your perfect tits.”

He barely allows you a moment to breathe before he’s snapping his hips against you roughly, letting out a strained grunt with every thrust. Sensations trickle up your spine like flickering flames as a muffled cry spills out of you. Matty angles his hips just right, hitting so deep inside you that you feel as though you’re being split open by each drive of his cock, it’s mind-numbing. Your whole body jolts against the counter with his purposeful movements, the edge of the porcelain biting into your hip bones. He can hardly focus on just one thing, his gaze darting from where he’s disappearing inside of you, to your gorgeous face, to your breasts. Matty’s raspy voice makes your eyes refocus on him, you watch in the mirror as he licks his teeth like he wants to devour you whole.

“You see how pretty you look? No, no, sweetheart, don’t look at me, look at yourself. God, isn’t she pretty?” he drawls, “You look so sexy, wearing my chain like that while you’re taking my cock.”

At his instruction, you meet your own eyes through the reflection, your eyebrows sloping as you realize that he’s right, you do look pretty when he’s fucking you. Your rosied cheeks, your blown pupils, your glowing skin… and your boyfriend’s hand over your mouth. Your chain bounces against your collarbones in tandem with your pierced tits, it’s no wonder he’s loving this position so much, he gets to watch everything at once. While you’re gazing at yourself, Matty reaches around and begins to rub two fingers on your clit, swirling them in intoxicatingly quick figure eights. You watch your own eyes go wide as the pleasure ricochets through your bones, making you light-headed. This must be the expression Matty lives for when he’s got you like this, the face to his sweetest wet dreams. You’re almost mesmerized by seeing yourself get railed to high heaven, it’s sort of an odd feeling. In one swift motion, Matty lets go of your face and grasps the chain around your neck, pulling it taut against your throat from behind, ripping a shocked cry from your lips.

“Ohh, she liked that one,” he grins lazily, tilting his head back with a groan as he feels your walls clamp down on him like a vice, “Shit, not gonna last if you keep doin’ that, god damn.”

It feels like he’s stolen the air directly from your lungs as he lightly chokes you with the silver links you’d so slickly “borrowed” from him. Even just the slight restriction of oxygen has you reeling, your eyes rolling back as your hands claw at the counter, your whole body buzzing with mortifying heights of exhilaration. It’s a dizzying combination of thrill and precarious risk as Matty keeps a tight hold on the chain while fucking you with such vigor that you don’t feel attached to your body, the counter being your only loose grasp on reality. It only makes every drive of his cock feel that much more visceral, the tension coiling tighter in your belly. Heat prickles at your cheeks and the bridge of your nose at the purely obscene sounds of him thrusting into your sopping cunt, skin on skin echoing through the small space while his fingers abuse your clit.

It’s all building up so fast, quicker than usual due to Matty’s frenzied rhythm, his hips meeting yours again and again, unrelentingly. You bite back a wail as the tension so deep inside you reverberates in crackling pangs, threatening to break you to pieces as you arch backward. Your hips writhe against his hand both like you’re chasing the friction and trying to thrash away from its intensity. He can tell you’re on the edge of euphoria, teetering with every swipe of his fingers, every slam of his hips. He gives the chain a harsh tug, knowing it’ll send you spiraling into the depths of pleasure just beyond your fingertips.

“Fuck!” you gasp, one of your hands flying to grip his wrist as your mind goes impossibly blank, your nails digging into his skin, “I’m gonna- I-I can’t!”

“Shit, me too angel, so close. Oh, fuck, cum for me, sweet girl. Cum for me while I fill you up,” he grunts, a burst of energy coming over him as he manages to piston into you even more brutally.

It crashes over you like a thunderous wave, spiraling through you from your dizzied head to the tips of your curled toes. He lets go of the chain, putting his hand over your mouth again to stifle your cry, the disorienting rush of oxygen almost making your knees give out from underneath you, and they just might have if Matty hadn’t kept you supported against the counter. It feels like pure white light is fizzling under your eyelids as Matty makes you reach the stars with your climax, dousing you in pulsating bliss as you clench around him tightly. He lets out a deep, animalistic sound as he spills inside of you, warmth flooding your insides as he fucks you through your orgasm, his rhythm beginning to falter from the effort.

“Fuuuck!” he hisses through gritted teeth, along with other breathy strings of profanities.

Slowly, his body stutters to a stop, giving one last roll of his hips before he collapses over you as delicately as he can, enveloping you with his chest to your back. He lovingly presses kisses to the back of your neck as your head hangs forward slightly, both of you gasping to catch your breath.

“H-holy shit, babe. You’re so good…you’re fucking incredible,” he mutters, seeming just as dazed as you are.

He can’t seem to stop complimenting you and loving on you as he keeps you held up with his hands on your hips, rubbing little circles into your skin as you both come down from the highest of highs. The afterglow clouds your head in a way that makes you feel like you’re floating with Matty being your only anchor to the ground.

“Matty…” you mumble, reaching back blindly for his face.

“I’m right here. Right here, love,” he whispers, guiding your palm to his cheek.

You smile warmly as you feel the scruffy sides of his head at your fingertips, Matty keeping his hand over yours sweetly. At the same time you both glance upwards at the mirror, letting out simultaneous giggles as you appreciate the state you’re in. He leans to kiss your cheek, peering into your eyes adoringly through the reflection, pulling your top back down over your breasts.

“Oh my god… we’re a mess,” you snort, rubbing aimlessly at your runny mascara with your free hand.

“You mean you’re a mess, I look damn good,” he jokes, starting to slowly ease you both back up into a standing position.

You both let out a breathy sound as he pulls out of you slowly, his cum beginning to streak down your thighs. Of course, Matty stares, swallowing thickly like he’ll never quite get used to the sight while he shimmies back into his pants. Diligently, he reaches for a handful of paper towels, keeping a gentle hold on your hip. You reach to try and smack his arm when he laughs at the way your legs are trembling, your knees wobbling due to how hard he’d railed you. He dodges the blow, grinning at you triumphantly.

Matty gently wipes away the residue of his pearly release, whispering a hushed “I know, I know” when you squirm at the sensitivity. Once he discards the paper towels, he kneels down to pull your underwear and your jeans back up, kissing his way up the outside of your leg as he does so while looking into your eyes with a playful glint. He kisses you deeply while he buttons your pants with nimble hands, not even letting you lift a finger as he takes care of his girl. You throw your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss as he teases his tongue piercing along your bottom lip just to make you shiver.

“My perfect girl,” he mumbles against your mouth.

You stay in the bathroom for just a little longer, kissing and whispering sweet things to each other while your bodies fully come down, Matty shouting at whoever keeps intermittently knocking on the door to fuck off. You can’t help but feel a little tinge of guilt in your stomach for “christening” the restroom the way you did, but you highly doubt you were the first.

After he reassures you that the makeup streaked down your cheeks is “hardcore” and that you should leave it the way it is, you finally leave to re-enter the show (not before one final, drawn-out kiss, of course). Your boyfriend keeps you close by his side, his fingers interlocked with yours as you find yourselves at the very back of the pit, scattered with only a few other people. Matty guides your arms around his neck, grinning at you like a fool as you start to rock back and forth to the rhythm of the drums. His smile is infectious as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, singing to you when the song reaches its chorus. He looks incredibly dorky as mimics the wail of the guitar solo, swinging his hips while his hands rest comfortably on your waist, almost like you’re about to slow dance. You tell him as such and Matty just tosses his head back with a laugh like a little kid. His eyes are sparkling, but not just from the iridescent stage lighting, it’s the look he gets only when he’s with you. You feel your heart swell in your chest as you continue to dance like you’re the only two in the venue, and he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the whole world.

—-----------------------------------------

SO I was a liar and I did write another part. I intended this to be a blurb but I had so many more thoughts about them and their relationship eeeeee

The ending was soooo “do you wanna dance, dance at the back of the hall”

I love them. I need them to be happy forever actually.

This one is dedicated to my lovely lovely friend B (@haveyouseenherlately) thank you so much for the ideas, you get body piercer like no one else, queen. Love you!!!

Go check out her stuff if you haven’t it SLAYS <3

#body piercer!matty #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #the 1975 smut #the 1975 x reader #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfic

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lady-of-endless · 3 days

Text

Things you do that make their heart melt

(La Squadra Esecuzioni x reader hcs)

Author's Note: Those are random but that's the point. I tried to be a bit explicit for those who are at the start of Jojo part 5 and maybe don't remember each character's Stand name or ability. I couldn't write this only for my 3 darlings from La Squadra as I started it because I love them all too much. Proud La Squadra stan. Excuse any grammar mistakes. Enjoy!

Risotto Nero

- How you can balance being serious and being affectionate so easily. This is something he admires a lot and wishes to be capable of too sometimes. Yes, he's a serious and stoic man but the whole La Squadra knows just how big his heart is. Sometimes Risotto wishes he could show a bit of affection to the ones dear to him. Risotto is a softie inside but the nature of his occupation forces him to be as reserved and stern as he is now.

- How you can protect yourself. Being a hitman is tough, nothing new under the sun, but being the leader of the team is even worse. It's hard to watch out for others when he also must make sure that everything is working out smoothly. But he cares about you and your safety so damn much it's almost dangerous. So seeing you handle enemies alone helps him fall asleep at night with fewer worries. Also, watching you fight and come up with strategies makes him smile slightly and so subtly that of course, no one can notice it.

- How you look dressed in black with silver accessories. Aesthetically wise, black is one of his favorite colors and no one can tell otherwise. When you decide to match him with a dark outfit, his gaze will follow you more than usual. Be sure of the fact that he'll use his Stand, Metallica, to give you subtle signals, or not so subtle, by pulling onto your belt or necklace.

(it's loving Risotto hours)

Prosciutto

- How you calm yourself down after an intense moment. Prosciutto himself is not proud of when he snaps at people, thinking that it's not graceful behavior so he starts studying you from afar while calming down. He analyzes your soft tone, your calm face but alert eyes after being harsh, to learn from you but he finds himself falling for it. Like his brother, he also craves a bit of softness in his life but will never admit it, not even to himself so seeing you simmer down and transform into someone calm and understanding makes him want your presence more.

- How you counter him when he is too cruel to his brother. He is harsh with Pesci and he knows it, but he thinks it's only for good. It's not about how you're stubborn enough to argue with him but about how it reminds him that if something ever goes wrong with him on a mission, someone else will make sure that his brother is still alright and progressing. Also, as you two are arguing, things get pretty heated in no time and as the distance between you closes in, everyone knows that it's better to leave you two alone.

- How focused you look when deciding on an outfit. That and how you ask him for an opinion. You can see him leaning back in an armchair just looking at you searching through your clothes with an amused but admirative look on his face. Prosciutto likes to make himself look presentable and if you do the same, he can't help but find that fact attractive. Plus he can play dress up with you without you even suspecting it and he can't get enough of it.

(why is he like that? Love him though)

Ghiaccio

- How you let yourself be angry sometimes. To him, almost anyone seems calmer than him, but seeing someone being as furious as him from time to time and that someone being you? That's new. It doesn't happen often and in some odd way, he finds it fascinating. As much as he enjoys teasing you, he'll never be the type to say "Just calm down" or "You're exaggerating" because he knows how much it enrages someone already angry to hear this. He will be very understanding when you're like that. Plus, if someone or something gets you angry, he gets angry too so it will end up with the two of you being a scary couple.

- How your eyes shine when you smile and your smile in general. He is baffled by how when your lips are curved into a smile, your eyes are radiant too. Usually, he uses this expressiveness of yours against you, teasing you about it but when you smile so warmly, he feels like he's looking at the sun and that's unnerving because it makes him blush. He can't understand it.

- How your nose scrunches when you get a brain freeze from consuming something cold. This along with how your cheeks and nose redden when you're cold. He rolls his eyes at himself for like such a shallow and obvious thing but can't help it. It's not how adorable you look it's more how no one notices such details but him. It's his guilty pleasure. He has a kink when it comes to your reactions to cold temperatures.

(ugh I love him so much it's pathetic)

Pesci

- How you encourage him randomly sometimes. Pesci's already having a hard time adjusting to hitman life and constantly being scolded by his brother. At first, when you encourage him, he's stunned, flustered, embarrassed even but in time he starts to feel so much better overall because of it. His stress goes down and he gets more confident and sure of his actions because of your praise.

- How you're kind to the innocent - animals, kids, etc. Since he followed his brother and joined the team, the shock from seeing so much violence in his life all of a sudden left a mark on him. When he notices you being soft to the innocent and helpless while still being a hitman, he starts to heal. His only wish is for you to keep this side of yours so he can keep his too.

- How peaceful you look while sleeping. Again, being in an Italian hitman team is not easy, it distorted any perspective on peacefulness he had before. Seeing you rest without a frown on your face reminds him that there still is peacefulness in this way of living.

Melone

- How you're intelligent enough but don't flaunt it. Sure, he likes good looks but that's not as important as intelligence, any type. Melone is a bit of a sapiosexual, he knows it. If you come up with smart questions during meetings, his attention is immediately on you from that point on until the end of the meeting. Also, if you're genuinely curious about how his stand, Baby Face, works, it only adds to your charm.

- How you pick up on his "di molto" catchphrase. Melone works a lot. I mean A LOT. Besides progenation, he's skilled at finding out hidden info about the target, too. But usually, he does it alone, no one accompanies him and sometimes he can't help but feel slightly ignored. So when you start spending enough time with him to start using his phrases, he starts to feel less alone.

- How you walk. Simple as that. He has been caught many times staring at how some people walk, it's a well-known fact. So if you walk a bit slower and move your hips a bit more intentionally, making it look natural, he's dead. To hell with the mission for a few moments of pure admiration.

Illuso

- How confident you are. You don't need him to hype you up and he won't, but you'll always catch him looking at you with a proud look on his face. However, not everyone can be confident all the time and Illuso knows it very well. When he finds you letting your guard down and looking disappointed with yourself, he'll act right away. He hates seeing you struggle with shallow insecurities as you are just so wonderful in his eyes...

- How you take time to relax. He always insists on you taking everything a bit more slowly, so when you finally do it, he's more than pleased. He likes to see your facial muscles loosen up, causing a relaxed expression. He wishes to see it more often and he wishes for you to prioritise taking care of yourself.

- How you study yourself in the mirror while getting ready. He will use his Stand's ability to enter that mirror's dimension just to look at you from that perspective. This applies to intimate moments as well, just a heads-up. However, his favorite moment to do that is when you're fixing your hair, there's something about it that he finds so damn attractive.

Formaggio

- How you focus on the mission at hand. That, and how serious you look while doing it. Don't get it wrong, he's also focused on the missions but he looks more laid-back, like a natural. He finds it funny and adorable how you look so stern and even suggest him to pay more attention.

- How you always mention Sorbet and Gelato after their death. Everyone knows that Risotto said to forget about it after the funeral to focus on getting back on track as fast as possible and avenging them afterward but to Formaggio, this never felt right. So when you mention a memory from time to time to everyone, his heart feels a little bit lighter.

- How you dance to your favorite songs. He thinks that the majority of members of La Squadra are too stiff and grim sometimes so catching you dancing around alone to your playlist makes him smile. For him, it's like a breath of fresh air. Expect him to join you.

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frudoo · 3 days

Text

Like a Stone — Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Y'ALL. I apologize in advance. Literally sobbed writing this one.

Warnings: Unspecified illness, reader death, smut, poorly written Scottish accent.

Here you go, @xoxunhinged!!

MDNI

Any day now.

That’s what the doctors said. Any day now and you would be gone. Dead and gone, a ghost where your body used to reside. To be so young, only just married and so full of potential, diagnosed with the deadliest of circumstances, a waste. And oh, your poor husband, who was so excited to finally have the love of his life to keep by his side forever. How distraught he was to have to stay by your bedside in this dull hospital and watch you slowly shrivel away, resembling more of a corpse than that of his beloved wife.

A dry cough that leaves your lips startles Johnny awake, immediately standing from his chair and hovering above your bed.

“Ye alreit, bon’?” He brushes a strand of brittle hair away from your face, smiling down at you softly.

Your glossy eyes crease with love, admiration, as you look up at him and nod, carefully scooting over to make room for his large body. He wordlessly obliges, settling under the thin sheet and blanket just because you held it up for him. He presses a soft kiss to your cold, chapped lips, nuzzling his nose against yours. It’s a habit that formed after your wedding day—you can still picture those sparkling blue eyes staring into yours, that bright smile nearly blinding you. The memory feels like it’s centuries away, now, although it had just been a little over a year ago.

“I talked to the nurses,” you hum softly, cuddling closer and running your fingertips along his bicep.

Johnny frowns almost imperceptibly, but you pick up on it anyway. You’ve learned more about each other since being admitted into this hospital than in the two years you two had dated.

“Aboot wha’?”

“Johnny…” you whisper, tangling your fingers into the overgrown mess of hair that his mohawk had become over time. “I know you’re going on assignment soon.”

He doesn’t bother to hide his discontent this time, fingertips gently caressing the skin of your sunken-in cheek. You’re practically all skin and bones and it tears him apart.

“We dinnae have tae talk aboot tha’,” he mutters, his heart pounding in his chest.

“The nurses are giving me—us—an hour alone,” you explain gently, eyes scanning his face cautiously. “I… I want you to make love to me.”

Johnny’s breath catches in his throat, and his fingers stall on your face, resting there as he stares at you dumbfounded. Surely you can’t be serious. Not when you’re in this condition—so frail and weak and pitiful.

“Bon’, ah-”

“Please,” you interrupt, eyes glazed over with hot tears that threaten to spill. “In case this…”

“In case it’s the last time,” he finishes for you, his cerulean eyes just as glossy as yours.

There’s a moment of pregnant silence in the air between the two of you. Johnny glances at your heart monitor as the beats steadily increase in pace, before returning his attention back to you and nodding slowly. God, he thought the worst pain in the world was the time he broke his leg in primary school, or getting shot in his shoulder on the field. But this is far worse—the longing in your dull eyes, the coolness of your fingertips raking over his abdomen beneath his shirt. The knowledge that this could very well be last time he ever sees you, feels you.

You’re the first to lean in, lips carefully brushing against his like it’s the first time all over again. The shyness and innocence of it all makes his heart flutter, and he quickly melts into the kiss, large hand cupping your cheek in his calloused palm. He hums softly into your mouth as your lips part, fingernails gently digging into the meaty flesh of his bicep. His hand moves to the side of your neck, then down your arm, eventually meeting your bare thigh. He grins when he feels goosebumps rise on your body, pulling away from the kiss with a soft gasp.

“Ye’re sure aboot this, hen?” He asks gently, voice just lower than a whisper, almost inaudible.

“Yes, Johnny. Please,” you nod quickly, tugging at the hem of his shirt and staring up at him with wide, eager eyes.

Johnny has to fight back tears when he sees your expression. He can’t remember the last time he saw you like this—after the diagnosis, you had been treated and admitted so many times that any intimacy other than cuddling or kissing were long forgotten. He missed this, the beautiful glint in your eyes that reminded him that he was the only one who could make you feel that way. The last one who ever would.

Johnny climbs on top of you but is careful not to put any weight or pressure on your limp body, his lips brushing against yours before lowering to your jawline. The giggle you let out makes his stomach jump, and he can’t help but smile against your clammy skin. His lips trail down your neck and to your collarbones, and with gentle fingers, he helps you out of the flimsy gown. He bites his lip at the sight of you, thinner and paler, but still nonetheless as gorgeous as the day he met you. Healthy or not, he would always be a fool for you.

He cups your breasts in his hands, thumbs gently flicking over your nipples. He smiles softly with content when he hears your little moan, leaning in to kiss you again. You wrap your shaking arms around his neck, fingernails gently scratching at the back of his head. His body is so warm against yours, full of life and hope like you used to have. It makes your head spin.

“Ye alreit?” Johnny feels you tense up and immediately pulls back, worried eyes scanning your face.

His eyebrows unfurrow when you nod your agreement, but his movements are still slow and calculated, like he’s afraid he’ll break you. You shake your head softly, grabbing his wrists and encouraging his hands to move lower.

“Touch me, Johnny. It’s okay,” you grin slightly, leaning up to press a kiss to his clenched jaw.

With trembling hands, his fingers descend down your stomach and rest right above your mound, hooded eyes looking up at you cautiously. Johnny spreads your legs carefully, placing your thighs over his shoulders and pressing soft kisses to the insides. He knows you won’t be as wet as you need to be—the medication you take gives you dry-mouth, and parches you in other inconvenient places. No matter to him. He lets saliva pool onto his tongue before gently parting your folds with his thumbs, letting the warm liquid drip onto you slowly. The gasp you let out makes him grin and squeeze the soft flesh of your thighs gently.

“Is this alreit, bon’? Ye want me tongue?” He questions, peppering kisses to your inner thighs, making sure his stubble doesn’t rub your delicate skin raw.

“Please, Johnny,” you whisper hoarsely, grabbing at his dark hair and tugging slightly, trying to push his face further between your thighs.

He huffs softly in amusement, making sure his tongue has another sheen of saliva on it before swiping a long stripe through your slit. He moans, dragging the tip of his tongue up to your pulsing clit and flicking it a few times. Your legs are already trembling, and he digs his fingers into your thighs to keep you grounded as he dips his tongue into your entrance, eyes shutting once he finally gets a taste of the unmistakable tang of your arousal. Your whimpers are music to his ears, and he takes his time licking and sucking at the sweetness he’s craved for months. In the back of his mind, he wonders if you’d missed this, too. He assumes as much by the way you’re already grinding your hips against him, salty tears streaming down your flushed face.

You whine when Johnny pulls away, and he’s quick to replace his mouth with the pad of his thumb on your clit. With his other hand, he sucks two fingers into his mouth, coating them in his spit and making sure they’re nice and wet before circling the tips around your entrance. He kisses your thigh before resting his cheek against it, oceanic eyes staring up at you in silent question. The need displayed by your quivering lip is all the consent he needs. He slowly slips his middle finger inside, breath hitching as your velvety walls contract around it. He pumps it in and out a couple of times before adding a second finger, wrapping his lips around your clit once more to distract from the stretch. Fuck, he forgot how tight you are, how your walls flutter like they’re trying to kiss the intruder. He flicks his tongue over your clit right as he curls his fingers, and by the way you tug at his hair, he knows he’s found the spot.

“Doin’ so good fer me, bon’. Want ye tae cum on me fingers, aye?” He coos, circling your clit with a flat tongue while he stares up at you eagerly, an almost boyish glint in his eyes.

He curls his fingers against that squishy spot again, and that’s all it takes before you’re seeing stars. Your thighs clench violently, and your back pops as it arches, a soft ringing in your ears as your husband coaxes you through your orgasm. He groans in delight at the taste of you, savoring the gush of sticky cream that coats his fingers. Once your body relaxes, he presses a final kiss to your clit before pulling away. He pants, the heady taste of you on his tongue making him smile as he leans back up to kiss your lips. Dazed and lightheaded, you kiss him back the best you can, fingernails clawing at his back as you try to bring him closer.

“Want you, Johnny, please. Please,” you pant, chest still heaving as you recover from the bliss that you’ve been lacking for months.

Johnny hesitates, though, worriedly gazing over at the heart monitor. The beeping had become more rapid, and it concerned him. He rakes his fingers through your hair, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as he waits for your heart rate to return to normal. Once your body has calmed, he kisses your lips again.

“Are ye sure, hen? Ah dinnae want to hurt ye if-”

“Johnny. I need you,” you murmur, eyebrows furrowed as you peer up at him desperately.

Johnny nods, momentarily standing from the bed to remove his jeans and boxers. You gasp softly at the sight of him—you’d nearly forgotten how he looked completely bare, scars that you’d previously memorized like brand new to you, and you reach out to caress them with a feather-light touch. Johnny grins, grabbing your frail wrist and pressing a kiss to the inside before climbing onto the bed once again. He strokes himself a couple of times before helping you get into position, pressing the leaking, dusty-pink tip against your entrance, still slick with your spend.

“It might hurt a bit,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. “Tell me if ah’m hurtin’ ye, alreit?”

You nod and reply with a soft okay, hooking your arms beneath his to rest your hands on his shoulders. Slowly, he pushes in, covering your mouth with his own to swallow your gasp. Tears prick your eyes as he continues to penetrate you, your slick clinging to the bulging veins that protrude from his shaft. He’s so much thicker than you remember, the intensity of his girth seating itself inside of you bordering on unbearable.

“Ah ken it hurts, bon’. Ye’re takin’ me so well, so perfect fer me,” he murmurs, kissing away your tears and cupping your clammy face in his hands.

It takes a while for you to adjust, and it feels like losing your virginity all over again. You cling to him tightly as he mutters reassurances and praises into your ear, not moving until you give him explicit permission. He’d wait for eternity if that’s how long you needed.

“You can… you can move now. Please,” you whimper breathlessly, opening your eyes to meet his patient gaze, so full of love for you–his perfect girl.

He waits for another moment before nodding, slowly pulling out until just the crown remains inside of you. With a deep breath, he pushes back in gently, like you’re fine china and he’s a bull threatening to break you. Your nails dig into his tan skin but his mind is focused on how good you feel, how much he wants to make you feel just as incredible as he does. His pace is slow and calculated, and he doesn’t dare break eye contact with those beautiful globes of joy that he fell in love with. Fuck, he’s lost in you, staring like he sees right into your soul, like you’re another part of him.

The longer he studies you, the slower he strokes, unwilling to let go of this perfect moment, the absolute euphoria he can’t find anywhere that you’re not. He sees heaven in the black of your pupils—the future he would never have with you. He always imagined having a family with you, filling up the cozy home he’d buy for you with precious little rugrats. God, he’d be so gentle, always caressing your pregnant belly and kissing your temple, dancing with you in the living room to teach his bairns how to treat a proper lady. He’d watch you grow old together, comfort you as the pair of you becomes empty-nesters, reliving the honeymoon days and reminding you just how much he loves you.

He always thought it’d be him to die first, killed in action or succumbing to the forces of nature in his old age.

He doesn’t even realize that he’s crying until he feels you flinch when a teardrop lands on your face. He’s quick to thumb it away, leaning down to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss. It reminds him of your wedding night, how timid you were despite having been with him before, how stunning you looked with your parted lips and eyes clenched shut. He remembers it like it was yesterday, how the two of you fit flawlessly, like your bodies and souls were handcrafted just for one another.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly, pulling back to study his face and wiping away the tears that pool up in those sapphire eyes again.

“Ah’m alreit, bon’,” he whispers through a sad smile, nuzzling his nose against yours once again. “Ah jus’ love ye.”

“I love you, too, Johnny,” you hum, scratching the back of his neck gently, trying to soothe him.

You know exactly what he’s thinking. You’ve spent days, weeks, months imagining how different things would be, had this illness never corrupted you. You’ve come to terms with it, but you know Johnny hasn’t. You’re not sure if he ever will with the way he’s looking at you. All you can do is kiss him again, moaning softly into his mouth when you feel yourself on the brink of ecstasy once more.

“I’m close,” you mewl, head falling back against the creased pillow beneath you.

Johnny nods frantically, grunting softly as he thrusts the slightest bit quicker, still worried that he’ll hurt you. But God, he’s so close, too. He needs to feel you clamp down on him just one last time, engrave it into his memory, tattoo it into his brain.

“Me too, sweet girl. Cum with me, aye? Let me feel ye.”

With that, the coil in your belly snaps, and you let out a squeal as you climax. He cups your gorgeous, flushed face between his rough hands, forcing you to meet his gaze as he finishes with you, simultaneous bliss lingering in the shared air between the two of you. Almost as quickly as they came, the highs dissipate, little tremors and jerks taking their place in the afterglow of euphoria. He leans down to kiss you yet again, quickened breaths mingling together. It feels like eternity before he pulls away, a shaky sigh escaping his agape mouth. When he meets your gaze again, he knows. He’s seen the emptiness, that blank, peaceful stare one too many times.

“Ah love ye, bon’,” he whispers, smiling softly when he feels your head turn into the palm that still holds your face.

“I love you, Johnny.”

He pulls out of you for the last time, pressing one more kiss to your quickly-cooling lips. You hum contentedly, and it’s all the closure he needs. He tries to block out the rapid beeping of your heart monitor as he gets dressed, tears streaming down his face as he glances at your still figure, watching as you fall into perfect, eternal rest. He covers your bare body with the sheet and kisses your hair, whispering a final goodbye just in time for the doctors to come in and call the time of death.

Time stands still.

#cw: illness #cw: death #cod mw2 #cod #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #call of duty #soap mactavish #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #cod x reader #sorry for being depressing #Spotify

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rdr2stories · 2 days

Text

"Funny little fella" a rdr2 fanfiction.

A short fanfiction about a strange horse that Javier and John brought back to camp.

John pulled at the rope, watching with unease in his chest as he saw the horse at the other end speed up. He looked up at Javier following behind them, they both knew something was wrong, maybe they should have left the horse, but they couldn’t do it now when they had already taken it.

The two of them rode down the small trail to Clemens Point, passing by Arthur who stood guard for once in his life after John had complained to Hosea and Hosea had said Arthur could learn a bit by doing duties. He didn’t seem to enjoy it, but he did enjoy the sight of John and Javier coming back to camp with a pony dragged after them.

“What? Did Old Boy get too big for you Marston?” Arthur joked, letting out a short laughter.

“Very funny,” John replied as he passed by Arthur, walking Old Boy over to a hitching post before jumping off and securing him. He gave Old Boy a scratch as Javier hitched Boaz next to him before he grabbed onto the new pony he had brought back, glancing into camp and finding Hosea playing dominos with Tilly. “Hosea! I need your help!”

Hosea turned around with a startled expression, probably expecting some form of trouble, not John and Javier standing with a funny looking pony. He let out a soft chuckle, excusing himself to Tilly before making his way over to the two men. “What is the problem boys?”

“Me and Javier were out and found this pony, thought it would be good for Jack to start with something small when he learns to ride,” John explained as Hosea patted the sturdy and fluffy pony with even wilder hair than Marston. “So we took it, but I think it is lame and we can’t exactly just let it go now.”

Hosea nodded understandingly. “I see, on what leg?”

Javier snorted slightly as he leaned against the hitching post. “All of them it looks.”

Hosea raised a brow. “Let’s see it then, John do a run please.”

John made a small clicking sound with his tongue, giving a slight yank at the make shift halter and sat into a small run, pulling the pony with him as it sat into a trot, however it looked strange, moving its legs at the wrong time and having a sideways sway in its back.

“Well that does look strange, come back here with it John,” Hosea spoke and waited for John to get back to them before walking over, letting a hand run down the horse’s front left leg, feeling for any bumps or irrecularities. “Well she isn’t warm.” Hosea concluded as he had felt each leg. “Hm, curious.”

“She isn’t lame,” Kieran spoke lowly as he slowly approached the group, the brush he had used on Brawen still in his hand.

“You can’t seriously be thinking that is normal,” Javier replied as he looked at Kieran. “Aren’t you meant to be a horse expert or something O’Driscoll?”

Kieran puffed his chest slightly. “I ain’t no O’Driscoll mister Escuella, but it is because of them that I know she isn’t lame, she is gaited.”

“Gaited?” Hosea asked as he scratched his chin. “I have heard of gaited horses but I expected them to be well… Horses and not ponies.

“She isn’t a pony, she is a horse.” Kieran explained as he walked over and scratched the horse. “Icelandic to be exact, even though they are short they are qualified as horses.”

“Hold on, back to the gaited thing, what does that mean?” John asked, shaking his head slightly.

“You know how your horse has walk, trot and canter? Yeah she has those plus one or two gaits more! One of the O’Driscoll boys had an icelandic because he was part icelandic, I got to ride it ones before Colm killed it after the owner died and we needed food.”

“Two more?” Javier raised a brow.

“Yes,” Kieran answered with a nod. “Tölt and sometimes a flying pace. What you just saw was the tölt, bred to be fast, comfortable and ground covering. It is really nice to sit, and many of the horses were also taught to be able to catch drunk riders who may sway in the saddle.”

John let out a small laugh. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“Men? Isn’t it a bit too small for grown men?” Hosea asked.

“They are bred to be able to carry grown people, they are very strong,” Kieran answered.

“But you said she can trot?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Oh, um, some icelandics prefer tölt and others prefers trot, they can do both but if you just ask for something faster than walk they will have a preference.”

“How do you get them to do the other?”

“To get from tölt to trot you need them to lower their heads and get them to relax more… I think, it has been a while.”

“Would you be able to do it?” John asked.

Kieran’s eyes widened. “Uh- I can try, but I haven’t done it for a while and I only rode the other one time.”

“Well, try is all we can ask,” Hosea shrugged slightly. “We can use it to teach Jack anyways, we will just also need to put him on a trotting horse as well at some point.”

“Hop on then cowboy,” John said to Kieran as he handed him the reins.

“Alright…” Kieran replied nervously before jumping onto the horse, nudging it forwards into a tölt and riding in a small circle in front of the camp. He worked wit the horse for a little before it lowered its head and fell down into a trot, holding it for a bit before picking up the tölt.

“Well would you look at that!” Hosea chuckled as Kieran stopped the horse and walked over to give it a few pats on the neck. “Funny little fella.”

#john marston #jovier #rdr john #rdr2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 john #red dead redemption 2 #kieran duffy #rdr2 kieran #javier escuella #rdr2 javier

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marvuders · 2 days

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"No swearing, Mooney!" — Wolfstar

warnings: heavy food mentions word count: 3,187 characters/era: sirius black, remus lupin, baby!harry potter, mention of other marauders. au where james & lily lived. summary: Remus is tasked with cooking breakfast for himself, his boyfriend, Sirius and their friend's baby Harry. It doesn't go quite well at first, but everything works out in the end.

Remus quickly glanced over his shoulder, but he couldn’t help but stop and take in the moment. His boyfriend, Sirius, was jumping around their lounge room with the largest smile on his face, his hair bouncing around with him, his baby hairs starting to stick to his forehead that was quickly becoming sweaty. Their friend’s toddler, Harry, was just as excited as Sirius was. He couldn’t call it jumping, but Harry was bouncing with Sirius’ movements, laughing as they went.

It was such a sweet moment, he wished that he had his camera nearby. Muggle cameras couldn’t do justice to this moment. It was small moments like these that made Remus fall in love with Sirius all over again.

The coldness in his hand quickly reminded him what he was actually meant to be doing, Remus caught the short end of the stick this morning and was meant to be cooking breakfast for all three. He placed the milk down on the counter, rubbing his hands together as he looked at the messy counter in front of him and the recipe he didn’t quite understand. Remus never really understood the appeal of cooking, he couldn’t do it, he didn’t enjoy it and he certainly didn’t enjoy the clean up afterwards either. His mother always said that he’d have to find a partner who could cook, or to learn how to quickly. Well, jokes on her, because he did find someone who is actually good at cooking. Which made him wonder why Sirius wasn’t cooking and playing with the baby instead.

But hearing the endless laughter of Sirius and Harry made his forthcoming battle with food a bit easier to handle. He brought the recipe to the front of the counter, skimming over the words that presented themselves as jargon.

“Okay… so that much milk,” Remus whispered to himself, “I need containers right? Right.” He flung open the cupboard door, picking one of the measuring jugs and a small bowl from the thousand of plastic containers. He measured the milk, it wasn’t exact but that’s for only him to know, then added it to his ‘mixing bowl.’ Sirius said he needed that.

“Crack two eggs into a separate bowl,” He continued reading, his eyebrows furrowing with each line. Remus got another bowl out and the eggs. Well, turns out he is worse at cracking eggs than he is cooking in general. First attempt, he hit the egg against the bowl too hard and it shattered everywhere. Second attempt saw half the shell go into the bowl. Third attempt was quite alike the first. This when he started to get frustrated.

“Bloody shit!” Remus said, upon the forth egg falling out of his hands and breaking before he could even get it near the bowl. He took a breath and stood there, with the shattered egg in front of him on the floor.

“Okay, what the actual fu-”

“HEY!”

Remus turned to find Sirius standing in the lounge room, with his hands dramatically sitting on his hips. His long black hair sitting in front of his face, certain parts sticking up from where no doubt Harry had messed it up. The toddler was sitting on the couch, thumb in mouth, excitedly looking between himself and Sirius.

“Don’t you dare swear in front of the baby!” Sirius dramatically exclaimed, tilting his head slightly as he huffed and puffed, the corner of his mouth fighting off a smile. “Lily will kill me if we give Harry back swearing and cursing, Lupin!”

Remus lifted his hands up to his chest, displaying his open palm to Sirius, proclaiming his ‘innocence.’ Sirius slowly started to smile and let out a chuckle, lowering his hands from his hips as he lowered himself next to Harry. Remus found himself smiling, feeling a bit calmer than he was a minute ago.

“No swearing, Moony,” Sirius pointed his finger in Remus’ direction. “Sorry mum,” He replied, quickly flashing a wink at his boyfriend, who had already gone back to play with Harry. The short bust of silence did not last long.

Remus grabbed a few paper towels from the roll, bending down to wipe the shattered egg off the floor, then the ones on the counter. He didn’t figure there was a point in trying to save any, they could always buy more. So all failed attempts went into the bin. After some quick cleaning, he grabbed a few more eggs out of the fridge. Remus was just about to pick up the first one, to crack against the bowl when two arms wrapped around his waist from behind and he felt Sirius pressed up against him, resting his chin on Remus’ shoulder. He could sense that he was smiling, no doubt already thinking of an insult about his egg-cracking skills. Sirius and James had made immense fun of Remus in the past about how he couldn’t cook.

“You’re putting too much pressure on them,” Sirius softly said. He proceeded to wrap his hands around Remus’, guiding them as they softly cracked the egg against the bowl, and further cracked it open to let the insides fall into the bowl. Sirius had to lean around Remus to peer into the bowl, he wasn’t quite tall enough to see over his shoulder. Of course, this time there wasn’t any shell within the bowl. Remus smiled, as Sirius quickly grabbed the other egg and cracked it into the bowl, another perfect crack.

“You can’t live without me, babe,” Sirius cockily said, as he withdrew his arms, smacking Remus on the arse as he laughed and walked back to Harry. Remus shook his head and smiled, he knew the cocky remark was coming, sooner or later.

With two eggs perfectly cracked, he looked back to the recipe, moving through the steps and attempting to clean as he went. Sirius taught him it was best to clean whilst you cook, although he never understood exactly why. He had the stovetop on, the grease in pan and bread in the egg-milk mixture. So far so good. Remus moved two pieces of bread into the pan, and luckily they didn’t stick.

A few minutes later, and it was time to flip the bread. Remus caught himself holding his breath, everything had gone good so far— other than the eggs of course, but flipping was the crucial part. Remus chucked the utensil down on the counter with a heavy thud, taking a heavy breath. Both pieces of bread were burnt. He chucked the temperature down a notch, running his hands through his hair. Remus felt rather frustrated and annoyed. Any other baby-less day, he would’ve been thinking out loud and swears would take up most of his dialogue. And he probably would’ve tried to bribe James or Sirius to step in and do it for him. Everyone knew Remus and cooking didn’t exactly mix. But himself and Sirius had been trusted to babysit, and a part of that was supplying a meal, and not cursing. He took another deep breath and continued to wait and cook the bread. Wait and flip, wait and flip, try not to curse, wait and flip.

“Okay, I’m fucking done! Why is it so fucking hard?” Remus yelled, chucking the burnt bread into the bin and turning off the stovetop. “It’s just fucking bread? Fucking bastards of things.”

He continued to chuck things all over the kitchen, the utensil just made it into the sink, the bowls got shoved to the side, making loud noises as they went. It wasn’t long before everything was even more of a mess than it was before, and Remus just stood there in the kitchen, his chest heaving up and down as he took heavy breaths. He lifted his hands up, burying his face in them.

“Hey,” Sirius whispered, slowly walking over to the kitchen with Harry lifted and sitting on his hip. “Moony, hey, babe?”

Remus lowered his hands, turning to face Sirius. He went to go speak, opening his mouth slightly, but soon closed it when no words came to fruition.

“It’s okay, we all know you can’t cook,” Sirius’ tone was light and caring but with a hint of humour. “But,” he paused, hiking Harry further up his body, “you gotta stop cursing in front of the baby.”

There was a moment of silence before Remus started to laugh which Harry quickly copied and joined in. All three boys were laughing in their disaster of a kitchen, bits of eggs, milk and burnt bread all over the place. Remus made eye-contact with Sirius, smiling softly as he mouthed ‘I’m sorry.’ Sirius quickly responded, shaking his head and walking forward a few steps to gently kiss him on the cheek.

Remus took Harry out of Sirius’ arms, wrapping one arm around his legs and bottom, whilst his other hand supported his upper back and shoulders. Harry’s hair resembled James’ hair- dark, wavy and full of volume. His bright green eye’s paralleling Lily’s, having the same level of innocence and mischievous intent behind them. Harry reached for Remus’ face, playing and prodding with his cheeks, pushing around the skin and making Remus look like an utter idiot— but it made Harry laugh.

“Pete’s gonna get us drive through and bring it over,” Sirius said, walking back into the kitchen, “to save you trying to cook again, Moony.”

“Thank you Pads,” Remus replied, removing his upper hand from Harry’s back and chucked a few utensils in the kitchen sink. Sirius started to do the same, not exactly cleaning but just general tidying. It’ll make it easier for when they did eventually get around to cleaning.

Remus didn’t quite know how Sirius could make such a trivial task comforting and relaxing. He slowly rocked Harry, whilst wiping the benches with his spare hand. Sirius cleaned up the leftover food and rinsed out the bowls whilst making small, banter comments under his breath about Remus’ lack of cooking skills, and cleaning skills. It had calmed all the previous tension he was holding from his outburst with the toast.

“I’m just saying, Moony, my mother’s hair would turn instantly grey if she even looked at the mess you left our kitchen in!” Sirius exclaimed, dramatically putting his arms out for further flair.

“Lower your voice, Black,” Remus softly said, tilting his head towards Harry, who was now almost asleep, his head resting in the crook of Remus’ neck, his little hand grasped onto a section of his top. Neither of them couldn’t help but smile. “The baby’s trying to sleep.”

“Least it isn’t swearing,”

“I hate you, sometimes,”

“If only I knew how bad a cook you were before I said yes.”

Remus squinted at his boyfriend, if there wasn’t a baby in his arms, he probably would’ve tackled him. Sirius stood there, a grin plastered on his face, his hair messy and in need of a haircut, his graphic tee had no sleeves, showing off his arms quite well. Remus had briefly forgotten about their banter, taking a minute to admire Sirius’ stature, his toned arms and how he always managed to pull off ripped skinny jeans.

“Hey!” Sirius whispered with force, “I just insulted you, idiot, don’t have anything to say?”

“You’ll make up for that later, Pads.”

“Pete’s out the front,” Sirius said, with his phone in hand. “Be back in a minute.”

Remus carefully peered down at Harry, moving incredibly slowly in an attempt to not awaken him. He was fast asleep, with a small pool of drool forming onto his top. Grabbing his blanket off the top of the couch, he slowly wrapped it around Harry before placing him in his make-do bed just beside the couch. Harry settled in nicely, his face moving ever so slightly reacting to whatever that little head was dreaming about. Sirius was back rather quickly, with food in hand.

They both sat down on the couch, their bodies leaning up against each other. Sirius reached into the takeout bags, pulling out the pancakes and fries that Pete got from them. Remus quickly went for the bag chips, or the best chips, in his opinion.

“I do love you, you know,” Sirius said, with his mouth half-full, “I love you and your crappy cooking skills.”

Remus lifted his arm, wrapping it around Sirius’ shoulder, pulling him in closer towards his own body. “I love you too, I couldn’t eat without you.” He laughed, reaching for some more fries.

It was a comfortable silence within their apartment. The two of them sitting on the couch, enjoying each other’s company and physical affection, whilst Harry slept in his make-do bed beside them. The smell of fresh takeout filling their senses. It was moments like these that Remus knew he made the right decision a few years ago. When he had the choice to keep his feelings to himself or take the gamble and potentially ruin his friendship. He was incredibly grateful that he took the risk; otherwise, he wouldn’t have one of his best friends beside him, stuffing his face with chips, with his body pressed against his own. And he certainly couldn’t call that best friend his boyfriend either.

Remus squeezed Sirius into a side-on hug, resting his head against Sirius’ hair. He couldn’t help but smile whilst they both continued to eat their not-so home-cooked breakfast. It was this that he had longed and yearned for, a sweet life that he never thought he could have, let alone deserve it.

“I really fucking love you, Sirius,” he whispered, taking another bite of food. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Sirius turned to eye-ball Remus, smiling slightly. “I really trucking love you too, Moony,” he paused, “but how many times do I have to tell you, no swearing in front of the baby!”

“He’s asleep, idiot,”

“Still! We’d never be allowed to babysit again.”

They both started to laugh, Remus moved forward, brushing their noses together. He closed his eyes as he started to close the distance between the two of them, Remus could feel Sirius smiling as he pressed his lips against his loves. Sirius kissed back as he tilted his head up, falling perfectly together. It was soft and light, Remus' chest felt light but full of emotion at the same time. His face seemed to form a smile without putting any thought into it. He couldn’t imagine any other place that he felt more happier or safer, with his lips against Sirius’, their limbs against one another.

Sirius pulled back first, giving Remus that warm smile, the type that included his eyes, where these little lines in the outer corner of each eye would appear, and his eyebrows would lift slightly. It was when Sirius was the most beautiful.

There was a specific thought that rushed through Remus’ head. He had to actively try to stop it from coming up and out of his mouth. He couldn’t ask it yet, no, not yet. Could he?

Sirius had turned back to the remainder of the food, it gave Remus a minute to think. He’d been wanting to for months, he had pondered different moments, different ways to ask it. He had even second questioned whether they were at that point in their relationship, whether he would actually say yes. Remus knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Sirius, he was convinced that Sirius was the love of his life.

Remus found himself lifting his body off the couch, his legs threatening to drop out from underneath him as he walked towards their shared bedroom. He’d brought a set of rings a few months ago now, it was an impulsive buy. Remus dug them out of the hiding spot, opening the boxes and looking over them.

His chest pounded, he felt like he was dreaming- nothing seemed real, but he couldn’t help but feel that he was making the right decision. He quickly shoved the boxes in his pyjama pockets and walked back out to the lounge room.

“Sirius?” His voice shook as he spoke, he stopped a few feet in front of his unsuspecting lover. He could feel his hands getting clammy, his mouth felt dry, his heart pounded more than he had ever felt it do so before.

“Yeah, babe?” Sirius licked his fingers of sauce, looking up at him. Here goes nothing.

Remus slowly lowered down on one knee, pulling the ring box out of his pocket as he did. “Sirius Black,” he paused, opening up the box, revealing the ring and pointing it in Sirius’ direction, “I love you more than I can even begin to describe.”

“Rem-”

“Wait,” He interrupted, “I want to finish first; I wouldn’t be where I am without you. I can’t live without you. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Remus took a breath, he continued, “Padfoot, will you marry me?”

It felt as if the next ten seconds lasted forever, just staring at Sirius, awaiting an answer. He watched as Sirius moved the food off his lap to where he sat a minute ago, and his hand started to shake out of his control as Sirius lowered himself to the floor, level with himself.

“Yes,” He whispered, his hands clasped Remus’ shaking ones. There were a few tears forming in both of their eyes, Sirius didn’t seem to mind and just let them fall down his slightly blushed cheeks. “I’ll marry you.”

A relieved chuckle escaped Remus’ mouth, he took a heavy breath. His mind kept replaying ‘yes’ over and over again. It didn’t quite seem real. They were both crying on their lounge room floor, grasping one another. Sirius leaned forward, moving one of his hands to the side of Remus’ face, running his thumb back and forth along his cheek.

“I love you too, Moony,” Sirius cried, “so, so much.”

“Sirius Lupin has a nice ring to it,” His voice was barely audible, but he could see Sirius smile.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Sirius sniffled as he pulled the ring out of the box, offering it to Remus and held his hand out. Remus chucked the box aside, slipping the gold ring onto Sirius’ finger, it matched his skin tone immensely. “It’s beautiful, Moony.”

The silence was full and warm, there weren't any words that came to either of their minds. It was truly the perfect moment.

Remus gripped onto Sirius, not wanting to let him out his arms, and he moved them both against the side of the couch. Sirius quickly settled in his lap, resting his head against his upper chest, there wasn’t a doubt that he could hear how fast and loud his heart was beating. Remus shut his eyes and lifted his hand to play with his now-fiance’s hair. Smooth as silk, like normal with a slight scent of pine. It was another one of Remus’ favourite things about his partner.

“You’re stuck with me forever now, you realise that right, Lupin?”

“Well, you’re stuck with my cooking, babe.”

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wittlesissyb4by · 16 hours

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Chapter 1

Oh fuck! Oh FUCK! FUCK!

I overslept.

I was supposed to be at work over an hour ago. If I hurried, I could take a shower, throw on some clothes that still needed ironing, and make it there by 11 if there isn’t much traffic.

Or…I could just call in sick.

Having the day to myself would be nice. I’ve taken a day off each of the last 3 weeks and I have to say, I’ve really been enjoying the extra day of relaxation. Not that my job is too taxing, I sit at a desk all day and move numbers from one column to the other, but on days I’m home I get to be free. I get to be me.

My roommate Max is at work until 5. That’s at least 7 solid hours of play time. My mind races with all the possible things I could do. I’m already getting hard just thinking about it. I grab my phone and tune my voice as I dial, my other hand on my crotch, rubbing in excitement.

“HR, this is Kelly.”

“Hey K-Kelly” I say in a terrible excuse for a raspy voice, coughing unconvincingly. “I think I'm getting pretty sick…”

“Again? This is like the third week in a row.” She says.

“Yea, I dunno, some kind of weird viral thing I guess.”

Even through the phone she sounded skeptical. “Hmm…okay well go ahead and take the day off, and bring in a doctor’s note on Monday.”

“A doctor’s note?”

“Yea. You’ve already used all your PTO days for the year, so you’ll need a note from your doctor to have it count as a sick day. Otherwise we’ll have to dock your pay.”

America.

“Okay, well *ehem* I’ll get the note and bring it on Monday.” I say, knowing damn well I'm too lazy to do any of those things. Maybe they’ll forget, or shrug it off, I dunno, that’s future-Jake’s problem.

Today, I’m gonna pamper myself. Literally.

But first I have to shave my legs. I dunno why. For whatever reason it puts me in that mood. Having fresh, smooth legs makes me feel both feminine and infantile.

After I’ve removed any trace of body hair, it’s time to decide what to wear. I have a large divider in my closet that serves as a false wall. It effectively hides an entire section tucked back in the corner. That’s where I keep all my supplies.

I’ve accrued quite a lot over the years. Slowly adding to my wardrobe and repertoire of toys. I rake the hangars along the rod as I search for my outfit of the day, all of them in various shades of pink.

Frilly dress? Na. Too frumpy. Onesie? Too tame. I’m in a particularly slutty mood. I want something slutty.

I decide on my go-to: the sexy Schoolgirl outfit.

Sure, it’s cliche. But there's a reason it’s so common. Nothing makes me feel more fuckable than that skimpy skirt and the crop top. It’ll even show off my new belly button piercing!

I take some time putting it all on, pretending I’m getting ready for a hot date or something, or maybe just a gangbang.

The skirt can’t even hang properly because of how hard my cock is poking out. I stroke it a few times, fighting the urge to do it more. I have to control myself, I don’t want this to end too early.

Luckily, I’ve learned a great way to fix that.

I take a few seconds to decide on a diaper. I end up going with the pink BunnyHopps, for multiple reasons, but the main one being that they’re super cute.

I unfurl the diaper and lay it down on my bed, turning around to position myself over it. The crinkle as I lower myself onto it always gets me going. The shaky excitement from something so simple is something I will never understand about myself. But as I’m pulling the front of the diaper up to tape it shut, I realize I’ve forgotten something. Gotta get a plug. Oh! And powder…

After a bit of grunting and frustration, I work the plug into my ass. I love how full it makes me feel, having it inside and tickling my prostate gives me the heebie jeebies. I powder myself as best I can without getting it all over my skirt, then pull the front flap of the diaper over me and tape it snugly.

Mmmm the way it feels when I sit up, feeling the padding as the plug presses into me is such a high.

I stand up and look at myself in the mirror. Not bad, but it can be better.

I take my shaggyish hair and separate it into two tiny pigtails. I’m getting better at making them even, but I wish my hair was a bit longer. Two little bows attached to each do make it look super cute, though.

I close the door to my room…just in case. I don’t want Max to come home early and find me prancing around like a pretty sissy. I turn back around and get to what I was doing…

Creeeeakkk

I panic. Jumping around, caught in the act, attempting to cover myself as the door swings open.

Nothing.

No one’s on the other side, the door just…swung open on its own accord, and damn near gave me a heart attack. I push the door shut again but it doesn’t click, just slowly creaks back open. It takes me two more attempts to get it to stick and stay shut. I gotta fix that sometime soon. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week…

I spend the next hour in my computer chair watching make-up tutorials as I learn to apply my own. Trying to contour without making myself look like bozo the clown is something I’m still struggling to learn. I’m pretty happy with what I accomplished though. I bat my mascara’d eyelashes at myself and give a dainty smile to the mirror. I feel so pretty, but I could definitely use some lip gloss!

When I’m satisfied that I look like a proper, fuckable sissy slut. I prance around the room. Well, as much as I can with a plug and pamper between my bum. I love my new stockings and Mary Jane slippers! They really complete the look.

“Oh! Have I been a naughty girl today, Professor?” I say in as best of a sissy voice as I can muster. “Are you going to make me stay after class and be…punished?”

I giggle daintily at my little made up scenario. It’s silly and, admittedly, pathetic, but it’s the best I can muster under the circumstances. Judging by how hard I am in my pampers, it seems to be working just fine.

I go back to my secret stash and rustle around until I find the dildo I’m looking for. The big, fleshy 8-incher complete with balls and a suction cup, a favorite of mine lately.

“Oh Professor!” I say, twirling around with the cock so that my skirt swishes and my diaper crinkles. “Whatever could I do to make it up to you??”

“Well I think you should start by…sucking up to me a bit…” I mimic in a deeper voice, trying not to cringe at the awful line.

I place the dick to my glossy lips, batting my eyes up at the ceiling and putting on an innocent facade, “Like this Professor??”

“Yes you little whore. Now let’s see what you got!”

I close my eyes and take the fleshy dildo in my mouth. I hear myself let out a little moan. God it feels so good having something in there. I have several pacifiers to appease my oral fixation, but there’s nothing like a nice big cock, even if it’s a fake one…

I get down onto my knees, putting the dildo on the edge of the bed, pretending I’m servicing a real man. I suck and slurp and try to do all the things the blowjob tutorial videos told me to. I can’t help but rub the front of my diaper with my other hand. My dick is practically screaming at me to cum. I bring myself right up to the edge and–

Thonk!

Oh fuck! Was that a car door? Is Max home?? Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit! What if he sees me like this??

I toss the dildo to the side and bustle over to the window as fast as my plug and padding will allow. I peek through the blinds and heave a huge sigh of relief.

It’s just the neighbor. They must have forgotten something at work I guess.

Phew…close one.

My heart is still beating out of my chest, and my stomach is still in knots from the adrenaline. All of my horniness has evaporated.

Well, kind of. One quick look in the mirror gets me worked up again, but at least I'm not so close to cumming now!

Stopping to take the time to wet my diaper, I hold my skirt up as I watch myself make the padding swell and the tint of the diaper change to a darker shade. I press the front inward, feeling the warmth against my skin. What kind of freak do I have to be to enjoy this shit?

I put that thought out of my mind.

Searching the room for the discarded dildo, I find it in the corner of the room before sitting down at my desk and plopping the rubber dick down on the surface in front of me.

It doesn’t take me long to find some porn to watch. I’ve recently discovered “FPOV” blowjob videos where, instead of it being from the male perspective looking down at someone sucking his dick, you get the girl’s perspective. Which means I get to watch the dick enter in and out of ‘my’ mouth. A front row seat to a big, sloppy blowjob.

I put my headphones on so I can get the real experience. Following the girl on screen as she moves back and forth over the big, black dick.

“You’re such a good little cocksucker!” a woman’s voice says.

Oh! This one has a voiceover. Someone degrading me and instructing me while I suck a dick? Yes please.

“Take it in your mouth! Deeper…deeper…”

I rub the front of my diaper, feeling my absolutely throbbing cock even through the pissy padding. ‘MMmphhing’ all over the dick in my mouth, making sure to keep it nice and wet.

“This is your purpose…this is what you were made for…”

I suck and slurp, the diaper crinkles and shifts. This is so hot!

“Men are going to use you…fuck your little whore mouth for their pleasure…”

“You are meant to worship perfect, huge, juicy cock!”

“Suck him sissy! Suck him faster!”

I moan with the rubber dick in my mouth as I follow the voice’s instructions. The woman on screen was ‘mmming’ and ‘mmmphing’, but I was doing it louder. She spat on the dick, so did I. She stroked it with her saliva. So did I.

“Do you feel like a little slut for him?”

I do.

“His little mouth whore?”

Yessss.

“He’s going to use your lips like a fleshlight.”

Whatever you sayy.

“You want his cum so fucking bad don’t you??”

The girl on the screen was moaning desperately, hungrily. Oh wait…that’s me.

“He’s going to cum! He’s going to cum!”

Oh god…I’m gonna cum. I need to stop–oh! Oh no…

I curse myself as I feel my body start to spasm. A new warmth fills the inside of my diaper. I can feel all my horniness leaving with it.

No! Not yet!! I whine at no one in particular. I had a whole day planned…and now it’s ruined.

I hate how easily it tends to happen. I can’t get far into my regime at all without immediately blowing it….literally.

I feel like crying, but I don’t want my mascara to run. The plug immediately loses all of its appeal. I huff and puff as I rip the tapes of the diaper off, seeing my immense and gooey load making strings when the front flap flops open. I sit up a bit and yank the plug out a little harder than I intended, tossing it across the room.

Plopping myself back down, the diaper feels cool and clammy now. Still, I reason, there’s no sense in wasting it, diapers are expensive, and the good thing about these BunnyHopps is they have the hook and loop tapes, which means I can put it right back on…even if it’s not nearly as fun now.

I check through the window again to make sure Max’s car isn’t out front before I head into the kitchen to make something to eat. I bring it back to my room, closing the door, and then closing it again after it doesn’t stay shut.

Firing up my rig, I pull up League of Legends and start playing a few matches. I feel like one of those E-girls, dressing kind of skimpy and playing video games for boys’ attention. I don’t even have to get up to pee between matches, just get to release it all into my diaper. This is the life.

At around 2 o’clock, I feel the urge to use the bathroom in a different way. I sigh, knowing it’s the end of my diaper time. I head to the restroom to do my business, but stop before I get to the door.

Actually, why don’t I just do it right here? Right now? After all, I am in a diaper. I don’t usually mess because Max is always here, but I have the house all to myself, and this diaper is on its last leg anyway. Why not? I’m allowed to treat myself, even if it's probably the weirdest way one would do so.

I’ve always found it a bit awkward to poop in a diaper. How does one do it? Do you stand? Surely not. Do you sit? That seems messy, but I guess that’s kinda the point…I decide to squat down and handle it that way.

It doesn’t happen immediately. I sit there awkwardly thinking about what someone would say if they saw me in this position.

“D’awwww!! Is the wittle baby making a pushy poo?? Hmm? Are joo making a big ‘ole mess for Mommy?”

The thought of that gives me a stirring in a different part of my diaper. I imagine myself surrounded by a group of beautiful women, forced to dirty my diaper in front of them while they all point and laugh.

“Stinky poo! Stinky poo! Now you’re going doo doo!!”

“Suck your thumb, loser!!”

I put my thumb in my mouth. I suck it while I grunt and push.

“A grown man dumping in a DIAPER!”

“Man? Looks like a sissy slut to me!”

I can actually see myself blushing in the mirror while the diaper sags under the weight of my warm mush that’s filling it.

“He did it! He did it!” the imaginary girls clap.

I can see my penis poking through the pampers.

“And he LIKED it!”

“Show us how much you like it, loser!”

“Sit in your stinky seat!!”

I sit back on my butt and feel the mush spread inside. It’s sickening and feels yucky, but the girls love it.

“Bouncy bouncy baby!!”

I bounce on the floor, squishing the mess even more, sucking my thumb and making pathetic little noises as I slip into little space.

“Goo goo ga ga sissy girl!!”

I’m drooling on my thumb while the other is rubbing the front of my mushy diaper. I’m glad Max isn’t home to hear the ridiculous sounds I'm making.

“I think he wants to MAKE a goo goo in his diapy!” The girls all laugh. Emma Watson, Kate Beckinsale, Natalie Portman, they’re all here. “On the floor! It’s time for dumpy humpies!!”

Someone also tells me to get my ‘big boi binky’. I grab the dildo off my desk and put it on the floor in front of me.

“Sucky sucky while you fucky fucky!!”

I’m a mess in every sense of the word. Drooling all over the dick, wiggling back and forth in my defiled diaper, grinding against the ground, skirt, hair, make-up all disheveled.

The girls are clapping their hands and chanting. Goo GOO! Goo GOO! Goo GOO!

It feels so good, being a dirty little diaper bitch…I’m gonna…I’m gonna…

Beep!

Panic. Was that a car horn? No, a truck horn. Max’s truck. The sound it makes when it’s locking. He’s here.

I rush to the window, my destroyed diaper plopping side to side with every step. I peek through the blinds again, scanning the yard.

Nothing. No one in the driveway, no sign of Max.

Another sigh of relief. It’s hard to enjoy myself when I’m constantly on edge that I'll be caught. Sure, I’m in my room, but the stench alone could probably alert the neighbors. I check to see if I even came.

Oh…yea..definitely did. But I don’t remember the orgasm. Shame. I’m overcome with shame and disgust again, and now I’m walking around in my own filth.

I carefully remove the diaper, trying to make sure the defecation doesn’t get on my skirt. In hindsight, I should have removed the skirt before opening the diaper, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. Now I've got a literal mess on my hands. I use one of my palms to cradle the diaper while using my other hand to keep my skirt from sticking to the filth on my backside. I carefully place the diaper down so I can use both of my hands to unzip my skirt safely and take it ,and my crop top, off, tossing them both out of harm’s way.

Now I have other shit to deal with. I carefully roll up the diaper and tape the biohazard up into a ball. The thing is massive and plump, but still has its pinkish hue. I want to take it out to the dumpster, but being naked with a muddy butt isn’t exactly the right attire to do so.

This is why I don’t make messy diapers. I’m so bad at dealing with the cleanup.

I decide to set it all down and go take a shower. I make sure to close my door behind me, and step across the hall into the bathroom. The warm water feels good on my clammy skin. I use the sprayer to hose the filth off my bum, finally feeling clean again. I put the nozzle back in its holster above, but it falls with a loud clunk. But even after I caught it, the sound persisted.

Someone was at the front door.

Not knocking. They just…walked in. I could tell by the clatter the screendoor makes when it shuts too hard, another thing I was supposed to fix…

Is that Max? Or is someone breaking in? Max shouldn’t be off of work yet, it’s only 3, and he always works until at least 5.

I listen to the footfalls, turning the water off so I can get a better listen. The steps are hard, like those of work boots. Max’s boots. They stomp down the hallway past the bathroom I’m in, past my door, and then to his.

I shut my door, right?

Yes. I did. I made sure of it.

But what if he smells my disgusting diaper?

In a bit of a panic, I hop out of the shower, grab a towel, and make my way out into the hall.

“Hey,” I say, unable to keep the panic from my voice.

Max turns, a weird look on his face, “Hey.” he replies.

“You’re home early.” I say, sounding like an unfaithful housewife.

He scratches his beard and sighs, “Yea, the guys got what they needed done and we should be good to pass inspection tomorrow so I sent ‘em home.”

“Oh, okay, cool.” It was awkward. We’ve lived together for almost two years now and it’s never been this awkward. Probably because I’m making it awkward.

“Well, I’m gonna go take a nap.” He rubbed his eyes, maybe a little too much.

“Alright then, see ya later.”

“Later.”

He went into his room and closed the door behind him. I hurried to mine, reaching for the handle.

But it wasn’t there. The door was open. Wide open. And all my stuff was splayed across it in full, easy view. The skimpy skirt, the crop top with the word ‘SISSY’ plastered across it, a realistic dildo with my drool still dripping down it and, right in the center of the floor, my big giant disgusting diaper.

…Is there any chance he didn’t see all of that?

To Be Continued

#roomies

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