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#contains smut
sonnista · 1 year
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[If someone were to ask him, he would answer that they are just one-night stands. It’s nothing more than just meaningless sex. ...But not as meaningless as Malik wants it to be.]
Enemies With Benefits by Sonnista (read on AO3)
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captaincaptainjill · 2 years
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My old Johnny Silverhand x gn!Reader fanfic. Warning: contains smut
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imhereformr · 1 year
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Chapter 11 of the rewrite is clashing with my brain rn, so have a no-longer-on-hiatus chapter of Star Crossed FFnet AO3
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starlight-library · 3 months
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IOU | OP81
pairing: ghostface!oscar x ghostface!reader
summary: reader & oscar are best friends but reader would love to get a shot with ghostface. what they don’t know is that their chances are closer than they think…
warnings: [DARK THEMES USED & SMUT] slightly descriptive murder, mention of stalking stalking, mention of blood, breath play, public sex, oral sex (m receiving), dry humping, dom!oscar, sub!reader, degradation, hair pulling (if you squint??), face fucking, deep throating
a/n: once again, dark themes used! please read the warnings above!!! i answered a asked on my main here and decided to make a oneshot of it (yes i quote J's ask cause it was too good). tbh didn't even plan for a plot but here we are! I know my answer and this are vastly different...i don't wanna talk about it. also ghostface!oscar series belongs to @piastrification so homie this one is for YOU!! Also happy belated Valentines day omg. Hope you enjoy 🫶🏽
word count: 4.5K
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This week has started out to be one of the worst weeks you’ve had in a very long time. Monday started off with your car breaking down on the way to campus and you completely missed your first class. When you got to campus an irritated Oscar was waiting asking why the hell you didn’t call him. “Even though I was in class, I would’ve left and gotten you,” he told you. You weren’t in the mood to argue so you just apologized and told him you’d call him next time which seemed to ease his irritation slightly. Seemed he also had a pretty shitty Monday.
Tuesday brought your shitty manager everyone hates at your job to end a relatively quiet day. It was the typical bullshit but still didn’t mean you had to enjoy it. You spent the whole drive home on the phone with Oscar screaming your head off about all the things your manager had done. The micro-managing of your work, the snarky remarks, the extra work so he can just fuck off in the back, god you could not stand this manager at all. Oscar listened like he always did. “You don’t deserve that,” you could hear the frown in his voice, “honestly he shouldn’t even be a manager. I could take care of him for you.” You laughed. You thanked Oscar for the offer but you had already decided that your manager would be your next victim. It would be tricky considering everyone in the store knew how much you two despised each other but it would get done.
You ended up with a stomach bug on Wednesday. You woke up around four in the morning with a jump and just made it to the bathroom before you got sick. You stayed in there for a good hour before there was nothing left in your system and you dragged yourself back to bed. You somehow coherently managed to message your professors you’d be missing class due to illness and texted Oscar that you’d be out sick today before promptly falling asleep. You woke to a knock on your front door and dragged yourself out of bed. You made a face seeing Oscar standing outside with a bag. “What are you doing?” You ask.
“Taking care of you. Can I come in?”
“What if you catch it? What about classes?”
You watch Oscar simply pull a KN95 mask out of his pocket. You narrowed your eyes as he slipped it on. You didn’t need to see his face to see the cheeky smile he was giving. His eyes twinkled slightly with humor as he gently turned you around and guided you back inside your place as he listed the things he brought over and how he can afford missing one day to make sure you eat and rest, a habit you tend to struggle with. He really was a good best friend.
Thursday is really when you hit your limit. Arriving on campus you and Oscar head to class though neither of you really paid attention. You two spent most of the time texting each other even though you guys were sitting right next to each other. When class ended the two of you headed to the closest campus cafeteria before parting ways. You got on the line to grab the food while Oscar secured you two seats since it was roughly lunch time and everyone would be out and about.
Carrying the two to-go containers after paying you make your way to the back left corner. It’s usually where you and Oscar sat and enjoyed just people watching and gossiping about other students but you slowed your walking. Oscar was looking up at someone. Fucking Brittany. One of the sororities girls. Sorority president actually. Brittany was in a nice blouse, a skirt, some fucking heeled boots. Her blonde hair was thrown up into a messy bun and she was leaning forward slightly while smiling wide at Oscar.
Jealousy hit you like a truck. You grip the to-go containers tighter while standing frozen in your spot watching them. You wanted to march over and tell her to fuck off. Grab your stupid bun and slam her head into the table until she’s bleeding out. Or maybe take the plastic forks that rested on top of the to-go containers and gauge her eyes out for having the audacity to even look at Oscar. Alas, you refrained from it all. Instead you just tilted your chin up and made your way over with a tight smile. “I’m back!” You announce to Oscar. The both turn to face you and Oscar visibly relaxes slightly but Brittany is giving you a once over clearly unimpressed. You turn and blink, feigning surprise. “Oh! Brittany. Hi,” you keep your tone light and friendly, “what brings you here?”
“Oh, I was just talking to Oscar,” Brittany smiles, “we’re partners for our history project.” You could give two shits less what it was as you spy Brittany’s hand moving to Oscar’s upper arm and resting there with ease. Something so subtle but could come off as flirty and you wanted to cut her hand off. How dare she think she can touch Oscar like that? “…and wanted to see if he wanted to come to the frat party Saturday night,” she concludes.
“Oh, isn’t that sweet of you. Can he bring a plus one?” You ask putting the containers down, sliding one over to Oscar.
“If he wants…” Brittany glances at Oscar with a smile then back at you, “but we need to know to make sure they’re on the list. Even then…it depends on the mood if everyone gets in.”
“Then it seems kinda stupid for a list, don’t you think so?” Oscar asks finally. Brittany laughs. It wasn’t even that funny. You realize now that she’s flirting with Oscar. Well. This just won’t do. Not like you care anyway. Oscar is your best friend. Sure you love him but it’s platonic -or so you tell yourself- so it shouldn’t bother you but it does. It does bother you because Brittany was the queen heartbreaker. She used guys until she got bored. Until they got attached and couldn’t offer anything else after giving her everything. You were not about to have Oscar be a pawn in her fucking game. You had missed the remark Brittany gave as you sat down, your heart pounding in your ears.
“…let me know!” Brittany calls out as she’s already walking away.
“Ugh. As if,” Oscar murmurs and turns his attention to you. “Hey,” he starts softly. Bring your gaze to him and you blink, “you okay?”
“Yeah,” you manage a smile, “I’m fine. Did you see the shoes she was wearing?” You ask to divert the subject as now you might have something fun to do this weekend.
* * *
Personally, you never understood the hype of sororities and managed to curb every single one who tried to recruit you. It was just a bunch of girls with money and tried to make it sound like it wasn’t a cult but it most certainly was if you got in. Moving into the house, what they expected you to wear, how to act in public, who can and cannot date, for fuck sakes they monitored your social media post and if they didn’t approve of something you posted they would either make you take it down or probably kick you out. You much preferred your freedom over dealing with that bullshit.
Luck had shined down on you when you heard some of the girls mention Brittany couldn’t go to the bar tonight because she was under the weather and just ‘had to get better for tomorrow in case her special guest came’. It was a miracle that you didn’t march over here and slaughter Brittany right then and there but you bide your time. You had to be careful.
Now, slipping the mask on, you give it a five minutes after everyone else leaves before slipping through the back door. Standing quietly, you listen to the water running and slowly making your way through the house. Climbing the stairs you follow the noise until you’re outside the bathroom. You hear Brittany singing and you silently open the door. Steam hits your face and it takes everything not to cough from the sudden heat. Stepping in you watch Brittany’s silhouette run her fingers through her hair. Gripping the hilt of your knife, you inch forward. When Brittany turns you stab the knife through the shower curtain and straight in her heart. Twisting, you step forward until Brittany is pinned against the wall as she weakly has a hold of your wrist trying to pull the knife out her screams being drowned out by the shower and her choking on her own blood. You pull out before stabbing again to ensure that there was no chance she would be able to survive. When her attempts falter, you pull the knife out. Cleaning the knife off, you slip out of the house the way you came smirking knowing the rest of them wouldn’t have hot water for a long time.
Carefully you pack everything into your backpack you left in the woods by the house before securely zipping it. Slinging a strap over your shoulder, you start to head back to your apartment. You emerge from the treeline right into an alleyway and into town which is bustling with college kids. Perks of living in a college town. You just turn left and make your way back to your apartment which is a bit further uptown and you notice as the people start to thin out.
You feel eyes burning into the back of your skull. Turning your head over your shoulder, you stop. At the end of the block you see a figure in all black and an identical mask standing there. Normal people would do anything but stare. Call out to the figure, turn away and walk, call the police, something except just stand there silently and face off with this killer. Copycat killer that is. You suppose you’d have fans, sick and twisted probably, but you didn’t expect you’d end up creating a copycat killer. Not that you minded, actually the gesture touched you actually. People had been too stupid to realize it was a copycat but not you.
After all, their first kill happened to be one of your best friends you recently dropped.
You can’t even remember why but you arrived to apologize and found her body on the floor, throat cut. It was a bit messy. The cut wasn’t as clean as you would’ve expected and there was blood everywhere. Even on the poor bitch’s hands. Then you realize that there’s a few stab wounds. Seemed she put up a fight before whoever did it got the kill. Then someone clears their throat and you raise your gaze.
There you saw him.
An identical ghostface mask, black long sleeve shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Personally you preferred boots but to each their own. As much as some little sane part in your head told you to stop judging this person’s choice in shoes and run, you stood there staring because god he was so *distracting*. Honestly, the tight fit long sleeve should be illegal for killers to wear. It clung to him defining each curve of his muscle and you couldn’t help but get turned on because well–they’re a well fit masked killer.
“Did you do this?”
The killer nodded. Silence fell upon the two of you before you finally asked, “why?”
“...Why?” The voice asked. A shiver ran down your spine hearing the low murmur. A voice modulator just like you. Smart and well fit? Shit, “that’s all you can ask? Why? Aren’t you supposed to be running and screaming?”
“Well I find that a bit stupid,” you retort, “you’re right here. Masked or not, you're taller. You have length compared to my short legs. I might have you in agility and you’re a bit messy with your killing. Shaky in the hands.” You tilt your head to the masked figure with a small smirk. You watch the figure tighten his grip on the hilt of the knife before he’s in front of you in about four steps. You gasp as your head is yanked back by your hair, knife against your throat.
“Are you asking to be killed right now?”
“I mean you gonna fuck me before you kill me?”
Ghostface reels their head back slightly. Stupidly, they loosen their grip from the shock. Taking your chance, you grab the first with the knife and twist it away from you. They shout out in pain as you get your hair free and release their wrist before kicking the figure harshly in the stomach. You step on the figure’s chest a bit harshly. Smirking down at him, “expect the unexpected sweetheart. But you never answered me. Why?”
You can hear something faintly. You cannot believe this guy is mumbling. Leaning down slightly, you turn your ear, “I can’t hear you,” you tease.
“I did it for you.”
Now you’re stunned. You lean back slightly, hand over your heart. You don’t dare move though. You expect it to be some sick joke but the laughter never came. You bite your bottom lip having half the mind to suck him off right then and there. You stay strong though. Instead, you move to stand over the figure and bend down and hook a finger under his mask. His hand flies to your wrist and you laugh.
“I’m not gonna take your mask off,” you explain, “Trust me. Right now I am getting extremely horny and I don’t think I can handle you being ugly under the mask. Would just completely kill the mood.” You laugh hearing the figure let out an offended noise, “but aren’t you sweet,” you tilt your finger up and the figure follows, lifting his chin, “don’t be a stranger, yeah? Now, you should get off so I can feign the heartbroken emotional ex- best friend.”
Ghostface is in front of you now. He’s got your chin between his thumb and finger staring down at you and you blink as you come out of your memory. He’s close and you can hear his soft breathing which forces your own breath to hitch. You curl and uncurl your fingers and you hear a small huff behind the mask accompanied by a smirk you assume. “My,” he murmurs softly, “what do we have here. You shouldn’t be walking alone at night like this little one. You never know what lurks in the dark.”
You take a deep breath to keep your voice even. Pressing your thighs together you try so hard to stop the heat that’s starting to spread through your body. You should not be getting this turned on but how could you not? You had a copycat killer who kept killing people that you had issues with somehow and someway. “I–” You start, biting your bottom lip trying to find the words but you’re cut off with a chuckle.
“You’re so worked up for me. I can see it in the clench of your legs, the flush on your cheeks, the way your pupils dilate and the way you bite your lip for me. You don’t even know who I am. I could be a total stranger, who followed you home one night and just never stopped, but I could also be your best friend, that you’ve known for years, who you think you know like the back of your hand. You don’t even know. But I know one thing for certain though- I’m sure your panties, if you’re even fucking wearing any, are already soaked.”
You hate the fact he’s right. Your breathing slightly heavy as your eyes widen as you listen. Shifting, you clench your thighs even tighter as one of your hands slips between your thighs slightly. You can’t see his eyes but you can feel his stare bruning into yours and you actually look away. This hasn’t happened before.
“Look. At. Me.”
Your eyes snap back and your mouth hangs open slightly. You can feel how wet you are every time you shift and by god do you need something here. “What do you want, love?”
“I would very much like to take you up on that offer and suck you off,” you nod your head in the direction of the alleyway.
“Excited, aren’t we?”
“We’ve been at this for months of fucking course I’m excited.”
He grips your jaw tightly, “I’d watch that tone if I were you. I can happily just walk away and leave you here alone.” Your eyes travel downwards and spy his half hard bulge against his jeans and then back up, “I can handle myself and sleep much more satisfied than you probably would with your fingers,” leaning close to your ear, “but I’d be a fool to leave you so desperate without giving you a taste.” Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head but he lets go of your jaw and spins you around, smacking your ass. You startled with a yelp before quickly scurrying to the alleyway.
Any sane person, seeing the alleyway lead to the woods, probably would have taken the chance to run but not you. You were so desperate to finally fuck this copy cat that you spun around as he rounded the corner. You gasped as your back slams against the brick wall feeling pain through your shoulder for only a brief moment as your hands fly to Ghostface’s wrist as he holds you there by your throat. Oddly enough your calm even though he could easily choke you as your breathing becomes a bit more jaded. Lifting his mask slightly you stare at the slightly chapped but pink lips as you drop your bag. They look so familiar, why?
You can’t really think longer on it as he moves his hand up to your jaw tightly and his lips are on your neck as you gasp for air. He wedges his knee between your legs and immediately you roll your hips whining loudly. You let your eyes drift close as the figure litters your neck in kisses along with marks. You let the figure tilt your head so he can litter the otherside in matching marks. Your nails dig into his wrist earning a hiss against your neck. When he pulls back your eyes stare at his lips and you’re so tempted for a taste. You find yourself starting to lean in before he’s pushing you onto your knees. Blinking, you're now eye level with his obvious bulge and glance up at him fixing his mask.
Dropping your gaze, your hands get straight to work. Undoing his jeans you pull the zipper down before pulling his pants down just enough. You hold your breath seeing the outline of his cock because oh it looks so much bigger than you’ve had which…was very few. There was only one way to really find the truth. You let your fingers dance across the waistband of his boxers before you tug, cock basically popping free. You lean back with wide eyes because it is bigger than you’ve had. It’s actually the biggest you’ve ever had. The length was maybe just an inch or two over average which was impressive enough but it was the girth that really made your mouth water and the precum leaking out just makes you drool.
Gently wrapping a hand around his cock, the figure’s breath hitches as he bucks his hip. You give a few experimental tugs not really for a reaction but more so to get a feel of him in your hand. Big. Girthy. Heavy. God, how pent up was he? You feel fingers through your head as you continue to cautiously jerk him off before licking the tip. The reaction pulled out of the figure was a low satisfied groan and it encourages you to take the tip of his cock into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the tip before sucking, alternating between the two before you finally you’re ready.
If you had known how big he was you would’ve been a bit more…prepared. You weren’t naive enough to think you could take all of him down your throat. God no. Maybe with some training and patience later if the figure would let you but you didn’t have either of those things or really time on your side. Still, you had to make sure to keep the figures interested in you- even if he’s killed for you already. Better safe than sorry, right?
Hollowing your cheeks out and flattening your tongue on the underside of his cock, you start to suck him off. Bobbing your head you can’t help but feel a bit of a rush go to your head as the figure above lets out another loud ground. You glance up to see the figure’s neck as his head is tilted back. You're absolutely drenched watching him and find yourself slipping a hand into your own pants and moan around him as you rub your clit. That catches his attention as his head snaps down to look at you.
“Naughty girl. You’re so turned on from sucking me off that you have to touch yourself?” It earns a strangled whine, “such a pathetic slut.”
You can’t help but moan at that. “Wow. You are so fucking pathetic it’s adorable.” The figure coos and grips your hair to stop you. Shifting, he puts one foot in front of you and smirks, “here why don’t you just hump my leg while you’re at it.” He taunts.
Funny enough you’ll take him up on that. The moment he frees your head you go back to bobbing your head on his cock humming in delight as you hug his leg, settling on his foot and grind your hips down. If your lips weren’t so occupied at the moment you would smirk at the shocked reaction you pull from the figure but you’re lost in your own world. The stretch of your jaw combined with the already dull ache lulls you into a peaceful trance. You completely ignore the spit that’s starting to wet your chin.
You feel the figure’s other hand gently grab your jaw trapping you in place suddenly. You stared up with doe eyes as the figure fucked your face before you felt him hit the back of your throat. You gagged and your hands flew to his thighs for some stability as he repeated the action. “So fucking good. Taking my cock,” the figure grunts out and tears prick your eyes when he stops moving and you gag because he’s so far down your throat. He pulls off just enough for you to gasp and get some air before he’s back in your mouth and fucking your face again. You’re prepared for it this time as you relax your throat and gag less.
Having lulled yourself into such a peaceful you nearly let your eyes slip close. Sliding your hands down, you wrap your arms around Ghostface’s leg as you continue to fuck yourself against his foot while he fucked your mouth. You ended up tuning everything else out except him and listening to him ramble was going to get you off alone. ‘Such a gorgeous cock drunk whore’, ‘you look so pathetic humping my leg while you let me fuck your mouth it should be illegal’, and ‘you’d look so beautiful being my personal cock drunk slut’. It’s the one you made out between all the groans and moans and curses. You felt his tug at your hair as a warning and you finally opened your eyes.
“Fuck–shit–I’m gonna–” He groaned but doesn’t stop his thrusting. He does the opposite as he picks the pace up. That’s all the encouragement you needed. You find your hips onto his foot even harder and faster as you. You feel the familiar coil in your abdomen and you’re trying so hard to reach it. He snaps his hips forward and forces himself down your throat. Your eyes go wide and you gag, choking on his cock as he spills into your throat. You hit his thighs and try to focus on breathing through your nose but even still the rough face fucking before forced deep throating was enough to send you over the edge. You groan and whine as you continue to hump his foot before he pulls you off his cock and slips his foot out from under you.
Sitting there, you gasp for air as your chest heaves. You look up at Ghostface and lick your lips slowly as you debate if you wanna turn over and let him fuck you right now. He would. For sure…probably and he taste good to. But that would be giving too much. You were the original after all. Finding your footing, you stand up and slide your pants down. There’s a choked sound from Ghostface and you glance over at the figure looking away.
“Seriously?” You raise a brow and giggle, “you just fucked my face but you get all bashful about seeing me in my panties.”
“I–well. I mean. No–” This one sucked at lying. Rolling your eyes, you look away as you take your pants off before sliding your panties off. “What are…” Ghostface’s voice trails off as you stuff your soiled panties into his front jeans pocket. “Consider it an IOU,” you say as you hurriedly put your pants back on. You’re grabbing your bag before the figure gets a chance, “this was fun but I have to run. My friend is coming over for a movie night and he’ll be pissed if I’m not there,” you sigh dreamily at the end of the alleyway, “he’s so caring like that. Anyway, bye!” You say before you’re slinging your back over as you take off. You get home and quickly change into some pajama panties (with new panties) and a sweatshirt before finding yourself settled on the couch while flipping through for a movie.
Hearing keys jingle you look up, you smile at your best friend walking in. You two are so close that he has his own copy. Oscar’s in a baggy grey hoodie with some black jeans on as he takes his shoes off before making his way to the back of the couch. He smiles slightly at you and offers dinner but you decline. As he turns for the kitchen, you spy something hanging out of Oscar’s pocket. It looks like a fabric of some sorts. Watching him in the kitchen, you decide to get some water. Quietly getting off the couch you stand in the doorway. Oscar continues to cook himself dinner and you wait until he’s focused on whatever is in the pan to strike. Passing behind him, your eyes drop down and your breathing stops. Black lacy panties with red roses on them. You look up at Oscar who’s glancing at you over his shoulder. His gaze follows yours and he smirks.
“Can I cash that IOU now, darling?”
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girl-with-goats · 2 years
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ivy leaves series [Remus Lupin/Lily Evans]
Hello, hello, I have finished publishing my child–well, a series of stories tied together (kinda like ivy). They feature a relationship between Lily and Remus–a peculiar one, because it’s based on dom/sub power dynamics, Lily looking for safety and finding it, and basically a lot of fluff and smut in one. This was pretty cathartic to write and I had fun with all the metaphors, so come find out what’s the story about! 🌿
https://archiveofourown.org/series/2936640
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fettuccin-e · 7 months
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Leave It Like A Brand
Kinktober Day 1: Love Marks
Tags: Matt Murdock x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (wrap that shit irl fuck them kids), Matt's filthy mouth, secret relationship, a massive amount of hickeys like it's a lot (w/c: 885)
A/N: Happy Kinktober to all who celebrate! I am going to make a concerted effort to complete it this year, and I will be doing it with plenty of different characters. The absolutely amazing @flightlessangelwings has created this kinktober prompt list that I'll be following, so if you'd like to see a certain prompt with a certain character, let me know! I hope everyone enjoys the fact that I kicked off this lovely month with our dear Matty.
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It’s like he can’t control himself when he’s got you like this. 
No one is supposed to know, he’s supposed to leave no evidence, and yet, when you’re squirming beneath him like this, slick with sweat and begging him to fuck you deeper, harder, faster, Matt just can’t fucking help it. He leans down and sucks dark, dark marks into the soft skin of your neck. Maybe they’ll fade by tomorrow, he thinks, and Foggy and Karen won’t notice at all. You and Matt will go back to being friends, colleagues, and no one will be ever the wiser.
He tries to tamp down the slight disappointment, the longing that grows in his chest.
You curl your fingers into his hair, panting as he bites marks into your skin. You can’t be doing this with him, it’s been going on far too long. Falling into his bed, night after night. What would your friends say if they knew?  You don’t even know what this thing you’ve created with Matt even is, nor does Matt.
But God, he feels so good. Fucking into you so deep, warm and heavy on top of you as he sucks bruises into your skin. Like a brand, you think, like ownership. You want him to own you, in so many ways. 
“Matt, oh my god,” you gasp as he sinks his teeth into your pulse point, relishing in the sound of your heartbeat echoing in his ears.
“You like that, sweetheart?” He mutters against you, his voice dark in your ear, like pure unadulterated sin. He drives his hips further into yours, pressing the tip of his cock into the little spot inside you that makes you claw desperately at his back.”You like me marking you up like this? You like having my cock so deep?”
“Yes, fuck, yes, Matt- oh please,” you throw your head back into the soft silk pillows, and Matt growls, dragging his teeth down your neck before biting savagely on your collarbone. He hikes your thighs up further around his hips, your back pressing into the mattress as he pounds furiously into your needy pussy. And god, the way you scream for him feels like heaven in and of itself.
You’re getting close, he can tell. He always can. It’s in the way you’re practically gasping for air, your hips twitching to meet him thrust for thrust, trying to work yourself over that peak. Your skin is slick with sweat, salty on his tongue.
“You going to cum for me, beautiful? Make a mess all over me? You’re so fucking tight around me, baby-” he gasps as you clench hard around him, practically strangling him as he fucks into you. “Wish I could do this all the time, gorgeous. Want to be in this pussy all the fucking time.”
Your back arches off the bed when he takes a hand off your thigh to press a mean thumb into your clit, rubbing quick circles into it and making you feel like you’re going to fly off the bed. “Fuck!” you practically scream, lurching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “‘S too much, fuck it’s too much, I’m gonna-”
“Fucking cum for me, angel.”
And you do. God, you do, your cunt squeezing around his cock, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, as you gasp soundlessly, like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Your pussy gushes around him, sticky and wet and dripping down him. Your scent invades his nose, makes his head spin in a way that no one else ever has. Your hips buck up involuntarily as he fucks you through it.
“That’s it, baby, good girl,” he murmurs against your lips. “My good fucking girl, take what you need.”
“Need you to cum, Matty, please,” you whine. You work your hips against him in an obscene little circle that makes him feel more animal than man. His cock throbs.
“Fuck, yes-” he gasps, hunching over you, clutching your thigh tight enough that it will leave bruises there, too. Bruises that only he will see, the ones that no one else will ever see. Just you and him.
“Cum deep, please-oh fuck, Matt,” you whisper, before you bite ruthlessly into the hard tendon in the crook of his neck, deep enough that it must be painful, that it’s absolutely going to leave a mark on his skin. Your brand, your ownership.
He growls at the sting, his cock twitching as he finally floods your pussy with his cum. It feels like heaven incarnate, claiming you in the purest way he can.
As you both settle, chests heaving against each other, he tugs a sheet over you both. He hears your heartbeat steady and tries to match his with yours, tracing the bruises he left on your skin. You trace the bite mark on his neck.
“Little too warm for a scarf, don’t you think?” you murmur.
“Hm?” He tugs you closer, nuzzling into your hair.
“I’m just saying,” you say, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Don’t think I can hide these marks from Fog and Karen anymore, so why even try? Might be time to come clean.”
“Mm, you’re right,” he smiles against your mouth. “Does this count as permission to leave even more of them?”
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vaguely-concerned · 2 months
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okay. listen. a Concept. garashir roughhousing (gone (psycho)sexual) and at one point bashir wakes up from the high of finally getting to express all his repressed aggression in a safe space with someone who not only accepts that in him but can match him and is actively Into It, especially when he stops holding back some of his lil gmo twink strength, to be horrified like 'oh my GOD garak your nose is bleeding hang on I'll get a napkin or something I'm so sorry holy shit' and garak's lying there woozy with lust gazing up at him with wide betrayed eyes like 'no wait don't go you haven't even stabbed me yet :'('
(obviously this is mostly a shitpost, but I'm just saying I think they could provide a certain kind of space for each other that way. julian gets to have a place to live out all the rougher, less socially acceptable sides he usually has to downplay and push away to seem as non-threatening as (augmented) humanly possible with someone who loves him and who appreciates getting the entire spectrum of julian bashir, from the most obnoxiously annoying and needy to the unsettlingly coldly ruthless and back. and garak gets to have the shit beaten out of him in as medically safe and infinitely loving way as possible and/or finds he can still use his bloodied hands and take care of someone with them. this to me is the definition of what one might call a win/win situation. like don't get me wrong they would be having a lot of embarrassingly tender yearning gently-stroking-your-hair-and-holding-your-hand sex too. but. also this. which I think is also very tender, just in a different way. do you feel me.)
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ghouljams · 10 months
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seeing fae!ghost mess with love's tethers makes me want liebling to use that against our resident nasty boy. make him suffer!! (in a good way)
In which the worst fae-touched woman in the world is just dying to help Liebling's relationship. Ghost please get a handle on your darling.
There's a low deep rumbling coming from König, he's growling you think. Warning whatever monster is in front of you to stay away. His hands bracket you on either side of the counter, shoulders hunched protectively over you. When you look up at him, you can just peek under his hood at his bared teeth. 
You glance at the door and sigh, great the specter of death is back. Love gives you a smile and a wave. She just about skips over to you while Ghost follows her. 
"Don't worry we're not here for long," she tells you, which you're thankful for. König is always weirder when they're in the shop.
"What's up? What do you need?" You ask, trying to lean out of König's shadow.
“I thought you might want to know a trick I learned," Love lights up gold all over, you've noticed that happening when she's excited. You have also noticed that she gets excited over weird stuff, like dead bugs and slasher movies, you usually try to proceed with caution.
"Hit me," you tell her. She grabs your hand and presses it against your chest, curling your fingers around some phantom thing with Intent. 
"Should be around here somewhere," she mumbles, she frowns and keeps smacking your hand against your chest. You almost feel something brush against your palm and you wrap your fingers around it instinctively. Love pulls back, crossing her arms and screwing her mouth to one side. "Maybe not," She says, leaning back against Ghost, "Damn, boring."
You really don't know what she's so upset about. You curl your fingers tighter into a fist against your chest. König vibrates behind you, still agitated you guess. You settle your fist back on the counter, feeling something pull like a loose string on a sweater. Something unraveling that you didn’t even know was strung tightly.
König's hand slams against your back, forcing you to bend over the counter. He hunches over you, breathing hard and ragged as his hips press against your ass. Your chest heaves against the counter, your eyes wide as you stare at Love's grin. König growls, and you feel his saliva drip wet against the back of your neck. Your fingers tighten around whatever invisible thread you were directed to grab and he grinds against you. 
He is absolutely filthy rocking against you. You try to push yourself up only to be pressed more firmly against the unyielding counter. König’s teeth scrape the top of your spine, possessive, dangerous, you try not to go boneless at the feeling.
"Alright, let's go." Ghost's arms wrap around Love's waist and hoist her up.
"Come on, it's just getting good!" Love groans, kicking against Ghost's hold. Ghost whispers something in her ear and she turns red. “Mmhm, yep, let’s go," she nods quickly, letting Ghost carry her out of the shop.
"König," you gasp, fuck that is- that is his cock sliding against you. God that feels big.
"Out," he snarls, making the other fae in the store jump and run for the exit, he rests his forehead against the counter next to you breathing hard, "Let go Liebling, or bitte-” his voice shakes, “-pull harder."
You don't know what he's talking about. Harder? You're not pulling anything, he pushed you down. You whine, your chest feels hot, and you are starting to get uncomfortably wet between your legs. You want- König's eyes dart to the gold lighting up in your chest -you want more. His stomach jumps, pulse thrumming, you smell so good. All of you so greedy for him, tethers pulling at desires he knows you won't say aloud. You are working him up and he is trying to avoid doing something you will regret.
He cannot get banned from the shop a second time.
You squirm under him, it feels absolutely, pathetically, pointless to try and fight out from under König. You should tell him to get off, that is the smart thing to do. You’re going to do just that as soon as you can think of anything but the desperate way your cunt clenches when he rubs his cock against it.
"You would look so cute on my cock Liebling," he sighs, somewhere between resignation and annoyance, "Ah, but you would be mad if I fucked you here, and I cannot have that."
“König,” You try again and he hums like he’s listening, you don’t think he is, “you need to get off.”
“I am trying, you are not very good at-”
“Off of me,” You specify, but you don’t really want him off do you? Your chest is so pleasantly warm and your fingers buzz with some strange magic that makes König’s hand slide down your back and over your hips.
“Then let go,” His voice is starting to get ragged at the edges, dangerous. You don’t want to let go. You very much want to keep holding on. If you let go he actually will pull away from you, he’ll stop letting you press your hips back against him, his breath won’t pant in your ear. 
You shake your head as his hand closes around yours.
"You are being very naughty, Liebling," he tells you, trying to pry your fingers apart. You squeeze your fist tighter and he growls at you, “Behave.” Funny that’s what you tell him, it’s strange to be on the other end of it, makes your stomach all flippy. You press back against him, away from his hand and the end of this. You feel all of him lurch forward before his teeth clamp down around the back of your neck. You freeze.
Big teeth, big König, you like big, you really like big. 
He pries your fingers loose and the tension snaps, the thread winding back into the sweater. You can’t control your breathing. All your muscles seem to shake and melt against the counter without whatever hold you had. König, fuck, you still want him but it’s gentler now. A low simmer in your stomach, not… whatever it was before that has you absolutely soaked.
“Ich werde diesen Märchenjunges töten,” König spits, and then he’s gone, and you are utterly, painfully, alone in the shop.
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bakubunny · 4 months
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Izuku putting you in a dynamite themed pull up and making you show uncle bakugou when he comes to visit
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can you just imagine having to lift your cute nightie or your dress to show him?
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and izuku tells you to, “bend over sweetie, let uncle kats see how pretty you look.”
then katsuki gropes your thighs and ass and whatnot. but his voice is low and rough as he gropes. “yeah she’s cute, alright. s’ too bad that she’s too little for panties. too dumb to get through potty training, aren’t ya, honey?”
then i just imagine you having to sit with them whenever katsuki’s over. and asking izuku to go potty but he tells you, “it’s okay, princess. just let go, daddy’ll change you,” when you’re sat in his lap or between the two of them like he’s not telling you to wet yourself in front of them both.
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palaceofpassion · 6 months
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The life of a House Husband
"Uhm... are you sure that I'm needed for this sir?" Jaune Arc was many things, he was a young awkward man, he was also the only boy in a household of eight women. Something that had a rather grand affect on his life, from cooking to cleaning, he could do every household task with ease. Something that had come akin to his mother wanting everyone to chip in.
And of course, being under the thumbs of his sisters. Whether it was through brute force, or being unable to say no. So... when he received a call from Headmaster Ozpin, of Beacon Academy, that he had a job for him, he was a little shocked.
"Yes, Glynda has informed me that you're quite skilled at helping others."
His cheeks felt flushed as he stared at the elderly man. "I mean, my semblance is good at helping bring out positive emotions but... I wouldn't really say I'm good at helping others." That was a lie, and he sort of wondered what his Auntie Glynda had told him. Glynda being his late father's sister of course.
"Mmhmm, she has spoken quite highly of you."
Now he was just embarrassed, "Oh. Well, that's honors." She was very brutal about the truth, even to family. "But I don't see why that means anything here."
"Well you see." Ozpin put a photo on his desk, ushering Jaune to pick it up. To which he did of course, the image had four young women. Ordered from tallest to shortest. Though he did note that three of them were quite short when compared to the tall redhead, who appeared to rival even him in height. "These four young women are some of our, if not the most promising huntresses this year... except."
"Except what sir?" He was a little confused, a bit embarrassed, if they were important and famous, he should know them... but he was kind of just a country bumpkin.
"Except that they would be unable to take care of themselves if left to their own devices. " Ozpin seemed frustrated by the statement, grabbing a cup of coffee to take a deep sip before continuing, "You see Mr. Arc. These four are the hope of Beacon, and while I would love for them to succeed, they have... problems. Ms. Cruz." He pointed at one of the shorter girls... actually THE shortest. With soft green hair, and dazzling emerald eyes. "She has unfortunately had... issues with the loss of her past team, so it's hard for her to open up to others, and she lacks self confidence in herself. And while the most calculating mind on her team, and their leader... it's doubtful whether she'll be able to communicate with the other three." He next pointed at the next shortest girl, with snow white hair, and frosty blue eyes, "Ms. Schnee is... strong willed, to say the least. She's grown in an environment that was about being used or to use others. As such, she'll be abrasive to the others, she also has very little experience with chores or taking care of herself, or so her mother has informed me."
Next was the maroon haired woman, with a stoutly figure, and pretty grey eyes, "This is May Zedong. She's similar to Ms. Cruz, but whereas Ms. Cruz has fears of being around others. May chooses not to involve herself, she's also had a hard time. Apparently she's had issues with both male and female students in the past. And likes to keep to herself. She's also quite soft spoken."
"And finally, this." He pointed out the dazzling red haired woman, with shining green eyes. "Is Pyrrha Nikos, she is, the strongest member of their team. However, she lacks the will to lead. She would rather not ruffle any feathers, and takes on an overtly polite persona when around other people. She's also quite famous, so it's not strange for people to come to her with ulterior motives. She's not quick to let people in, especially when she feels they'll be coming for her name. Unfortunately Ms. Schnee has already seemed to get on her bad side, and whether they'll work together at this point is impossible to tell."
There was obvious frustration in his voice, "Unfortunately, while each are all incredibly skilled huntresses, they haven't put much time, nor want, into self care. And that's where you come in." "So... you want me to be a nanny?" "Something to that effect, though you'll also be providing them with a shoulder to stand on." He wanted to say something, but as the most normal sibling, amongst a cavalcade of spectacular and amazing sisters. He sort of knew his position, and knew where people with talent tended to lie. Their single minded pursuit on improvement and being the bet. Especially if they have mental or emotional hang ups... he hated to admit it. But his semblance would definitely help. But more than that, as he listened to their stories, he wanted to help. "Okay." He would do what he could to help ease their lives, and besides... while he never wanted to be a huntsman. It would be interesting to see what kind of lives they lived.
While eyeing the image, he started to try to work things out. He didn't know their backstories, but one was afraid that she would see others die, or that she would be the cause. One is afraid of letting others in, because she's lived in a harsh environment, one is unable to communicate her feelings with others, used to being ignored... or something happened between her and a past team. And one has learned to close her heart, an actress if you will... He took a deep breath and sighed, "Okay, I suppose I should go meet them." "Mmhmm, they've already been informed of your... inclusion." He nodded, hopefully things wouldn't be too bad. But as he held the photo, he couldn't help but worry.
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uhmprobablynot · 1 year
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HEAR ME OUT jock/bully!schlatt x nerd!reader 🤭
The way your brain works? Literal chefs kiss. I have a part two in the works that adds a bit but I didn’t want this to be too long. Let me know if you want the part about the game, and maybe some,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, other things :)
Part One > Part Two > Part Three
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He is so mean. 
You watch him laugh in the middle of the student center with other members of his baseball team. Knowing Schlatt, he was probably bragging about a girl that was fawning over him like everyone seemed to do. You pretend not to understand why girls seem to throw themselves at him but his toned legs, tanned skin, and big stature that followed being a student athlete solved the mystery rather quickly. But he is so mean. 
Last semester when you were forced by your computer science professor to sit next to Schlatt, he used every chance to prove that. From constantly berating your programming work, making fun of you for minor missed calculations, to making you feel stupid for just not understanding some of the material. You were thankful that the class was finally over when December came around, hoping that you would never be subjected to that again.
Then January came and so did your American History course. When you walked through the classroom doors you almost turned right back around when you saw him already lounging at one of the tables. Legs wide and his arms back behind his head. Instead, you only cursed and sat at a table away from him. He smirked and moved to your table. 
“Aw y/n, how come you didn’t sit next to me this time?” He asked. You only glared at him and pulled out your notebook and laptop. Hopeful that your silence would make him move, but he stayed right next to you. The first week of that class passed by the same way as last semesters did. Schlatt insulting you or taking your notebook when you weren't looking. When the first test came around Schlatt taunted you. 
“Careful that you don’t fail this one too, we both know your testing average.” Schlatt smirked to himself as he saw you take a steadying breath. 
The next class meeting the professor passed the tests back out. You beamed as you saw the 97 in red ink at the top of the paper, but you also saw the 53 at the top of Schlatt’s. You did your best not to smirk, good riddance, you thought to your self.
Weeks passed just like that, Schlatt making passes at your intelligence. Yet, each week you watched as his grades stayed around the 50-70 percent mark. The scores only dropped lower once baseball started, and so did his comments about your intelligence. Instead his comments focused on things that were harder to just ignore. 
The professor was talking about Chicago’s ugly law in 1881 and Schlatt smirked and leaned over to you. 
“Looks like you wouldn’t have been able to leave the house in Chicago.” You felt your stomach twist. You were used to his comments but that one just hit harder than you were expecting. Nodding you felt tears in your eyes as you just focused back on the board in front of you. “Oh come on,” He poked your side and slowly his smirk shrank as he realized you weren’t backing down this time. 
As class was dismissed the professor called for both you and Schlatt to stay. You half wanted Schlatt to be chewed out because she had heard his comment to you, the other half just wanted to forget that it ever happened. 
“I asked the both of you to stay because I got this email this morning.” She pulled up an email to the big screen from Schlatt’s baseball coach. You didn’t read the whole thing but one point did stick out. If he can’t pass, he can’t play. Schlatt tensed up as he also read that part of the email. 
“Professor-” “Mr. Schlatt please let me.” The professor turned off the board and looked at the both of you. “I hoped that you sitting next to y/n would remedy your grade in my class, but it has not.” The professor took a breath. “I cannot offer too much extra credit as I have more then enough to grade now, but I will offer one project grade and advise to study and do my work.”
Schlatt takes a deep breath and thanks the professor. You shifted in your seat nervous and confused as to why you were here. “Y/n, I wanted you here because you are my best student, I was hoping that you would be willing to form a study group or help Mr. Schlatt.” You begin to shake your head, his previous words echoing in your head. “If you do more than five hours of it, I will exempt you from the final, if you wish.” It’s your turn to take a deep breath. You look towards Schlatt but he was already looking at you, some kind of pleading look in his eye, so you agree.
The professor thanks and dismisses the both of you. The second he can Schlatt is up and out of his chair moving towards the door. 
“I have an hour before practice every day, at three. I’ll be in the library.” Then he leaves. 
The rest of that day goes by in a blur, the next time your brain kicks back in you're walking into the library. You see Schlatt already sitting at a table with his laptop out. 
You slide into the seat across from him and he looks up at you. You pull out your own laptop and pull up your notes for the class. 
“Did the professor let you know about that project?” Schlatt nodds and turns his screen to you. 
It’s a minor presentation and paper about how a topic of his choice has made a lasting  impression on american culture. You nodd as you process the information. 
“No -I don't have any ideas yet.” 
“Okay,” you both sit in silence for a minute. The project was due before the final, so Schlatt had a good month to work on it. “We have a test on Friday, do you want to work on that some?” Schlatt only shrugs and you slowly start. 
“Why is, what do, why-” You struggled asking. He smirked at your struggle before remembering he was using his mean face right now. “Why do you think you are struggling so much?” You whisper. Schlatt straightens in his seat.
“I just forget what we learn in class,” He clears his throat. “I zone out a lot.”
You smile to yourself, “Baseball that mind consuming?” He stares at you and thinks about your words before chuckling lightly. 
“Yeah, something like that.” 
The tension between you two lightens after that. You walk him through todays lesson. And work backwards. About 45 minutes later your phone starts buzzing with a silent alarm. Schlatt chuckles.
“So eager to get rid of me you set a timer,  impressive.” You smiled but shook your head. 
“No, I know the field is a good five minute walk so I wanted to make sure you had enough time, I don’t know how harsh your coach is.” He seems taken aback by the fact. He smiles lightly and packs his things. You just watch him. Watching has his biceps move and how his muscles shift as his moves. 
“Here,” He reaches out towards you with twenty dollar bill. You watch him confused.
“I don’t want that.” 
“And I don’t care, dumbass take it.” You only shake your head and begin to pack up your things. He sighs. “Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow, idiot.”
The next few days pass like that. You meet at the library at three, the both of you study and work on his project. 
“Are you ready for the test tomorrow?” You ask him as he starts packing up for practice. He nods.
“The professor is going to make my grade viewable right away so I know.” Schlatt looks nervous. “I really hope I do well, I love playing, I want to play.” You stand up with him and touch his arm. 
“I believe in you man, you got this!” He stares at the hand on his arm for a second, hesitating before brushing it off him. He flashes you a smile. 
“Well if I don’t, we know who to blame, yeah?” Schlatt patts your head before moving around you and leaving the library. 
The test was easy to you. Studying with Schlatt keeping you extra prepared with the information. You leave as you finish the test, casting Schlatt a confident glance as you leave. A silent, you got this, that you hope he hears. 
As you exist the classroom you look at the benches lining the wall outside the classroom, and you decide to wait for Schlatt. 
He finally exits the classroom and you stand instantly. He spots you just as quickly.
“You didn't leave?”
“No, I wanted to check in with you when you finished.” Schlatt smirks at your confession. 
“Well,” he says letting the anticipation build. “I got a 95!” 
“Hell yeah,” you yell. “That means you can play right?” Schlatt nods. “At least tomorrow.” You beam at him, happy that the time has been paying off. “Speaking of," He stops for a second. "Do you want to come watch tomorrow?”
His question catches you off guard. He went from barely putting up with you to asking you to see him play within a week? Schlatt sees the hesitation on your face and retreads. “You don’t have to it’s okay-” “I’d love to,” You interrupt. “When is it?” Schlatt’s smile is blinding. 
“It starts at four,” He takes his backpack off and reaches for something. “Take this and wear it. I’ll let the ticket people know your name that way you get into the,” he hesitates slightly. “The team’s section right near the dugout.” You take the shirt he hands you. “I have class but, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” You nod and clutch the shirt to your chest. Schlatt smiles again before leaving the building. You look down at the shirt he gave you. The schools baseball jersey. You flip it over curiously and across the back is Schlatt and a big 14, which you only assume is his number. You laugh to your self, he gave you his jersey.
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sonnista · 1 year
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[Bakura's first mistake is to kidnap the heir of the Ishtar clan.
Bakura's second mistake is not realizing that the heir is a woman.
And Bakura's last and most significant mistake is to fall entirely for Malika]
Own My Mind by Sonnista (read on AO3)
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captaincaptainjill · 2 years
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Travis Hackett Birthday Celebration - Day 2 
Travis Hackett x gn!reader (nsfw)
I added a second chapter, have fun with some soft Travis smut 😘
A big, big thank you to everyone who liked, commented and reblogged. Love you all 💕
Edit: There was something funky with the link and the second chapter didn't show. I hope it works now. Thanks, wonderful anon, for telling me <3
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sugurusfav · 10 months
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smash smash smash smash smash smash smash smash smash smash smash smash smash smash smash smash smash smash ughhghdjffmifjfhtr
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miraclewoozi · 3 months
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(TEASER) HIGH FIDELITY. - c.hs
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getting back on the horse is hard, and failing to hit it off with the cute gamer guy you went for a drink with last night has the potential to be your love life’s last straw. but when up and coming rockstar VERNON unexpectedly canters into your life, you find yourself asking very important question: do you have it in you to saddle up, one more time?
pair ; vernon x fem reader. ( also starring: besties!seungkwan + chan. ) content ; strangers to lovers. up-and-coming musician!vernon x record store owner!reader.  fluff, angst, smut. (MINORS DNI). slow burn.  warnings ; drinking + alcohol is a theme throughout. mentions of a past relationship breakdown. reader experiences a lot of stress, anxiety and feelings of doubt. reader is the monarch of self sabotage. wc ; teaser, 1.5k. full fic, est. 40k. note ; if you saw any of my posts about the show high fidelity… you’ll know where this came from. ( it doesn't stick to rob + liam's plot too closely with the exception of the first few encounters. )
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE
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“It’s just my opinion!” 
From your perch on top of the store’s counter, you raise both of your palms in a display of your innocence. Chan stands in the middle of the R&B aisle, looking personally offended, fingers curled around the top of one of the wooden crates holding your stock. 
“Me saying ‘I don’t think Welcome to the Black Parade is the best track on that album’ is not me saying that it’s a bad song.”
“But how can you say that?” Chan groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Who’s hearing the opening note to Famous Last Words and feeling the same way as they do with the Black Parade?”
“Most iconic doesn’t mean the best,” you counter. “Besides – I never said you weren’t allowed to have it as your favourite. It’d be a boring game if we all had the same answer.”
“I cannot cope with you anymore,” Chan whines. “You know what? No. I don’t even believe you. You’re just being a contrarian.”
“Why would I do that?” you ask. 
“Because it’s the best song on the goddamn albu–”
The bell above the door chimes loud and clear through the store and both of your squabbling voices fall silent. Your head turns in the direction of the entrance, an autopilot greeting already forming on your lips, but you feel them fall slack the moment you realise who it is that’s just walked in.
It’s been five days. Though it would be a mistruth to claim you hadn’t thought about the singer since the night of his gig, it’s not one to say you didn’t think he would ever actually come into your place of work. 
Much less at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. On a Thursday.
He pops his wrists as he walks a little further into the store, glancing around. Barring one of your regulars who walks about with his earphones in all the time, the store is completely empty; an adrenaline spike prickles the hairs on your arms, all the tiny muscles beneath your skin pulling them to stand upright. 
“Hi,” he says once he deems himself to be close enough, stopping in his tracks and bumping the toe of his shoe against the floor.
“Hey,” you greet him in return. 
“I’m-... Vernon. We met at the show, the other night?” 
“Yeah — yeah, I remember you,” you smile. “I’m-... well. I’m still y/n.”
“Still y/n,” he says on a relieved exhale, grinning and glancing away from you. “I uh… I just had some free time. Thought I’d swing by and see what you guys had going on here.” Vernon adjusts the collar of his t-shirt, the silver of his rings glinting under the flickering yellow light overhead.
(It was definitely somewhere on your list of things to get fixed. Honest.)
“Sure, yeah,” you nod, swallowing hard and trying your best not to stare at him. It’s hard, though – in broad daylight, the way the flannel tied around his waist floats down over his hips and the way his jeans hug at his thighs is… you don't even have the words. “Let me know if you need help finding anything, okay?” 
“I will.” He starts to thumb through one of the wooden boxes, offering a small smile your way. “Thank you.”
You’re holding your breath a little as he pulls a few 80’s rock albums out, his lips downturned in surprised approval at some of the records you carry. He holds onto a couple as he moves around the store and the entire time, you can feel Chan and Seungkwan staring at you. If there wasn’t a very real danger of Vernon looking your way again at a moment’s notice, you know you would be showing them your middle finger.
Really, they come away lucky.
“You don’t even know how long I’ve been trying to find some of these,” Vernon says after a few minutes, sauntering toward the desk – you’re still sitting on top of it, your legs swinging in the air beneath you. “Might have to make this my new stop.”
And displayed beside you on the counter – right by the cash register – are a few of his albums. The ones Seungkwan picked up after the show; until about two seconds ago, you had forgotten they were even there.
Vernon’s face lights up when he notices, turning to Seungkwan. “Come on, no way. Dude, I thought you were kidding.”
“We love our locals in here, man,” Chan chimes quickly, seeing you start to freeze up. You nod to agree, biting on the inside of your cheek. “It was on the speakers yesterday. Four people asked us about you.”
“For real?” Vernon asks, but when all three of you nod your heads, you see the beginnings of a blush start to creep up his neck. “Wow. Thank you – um. That’s really cool of you guys.”
“It’s good music,” Seungkwan shrugs. “You’re super talented.”
Vernon doesn’t seem to know what to do with all the compliments he’s receiving. Even so, he thanks your friends again with a stomach-twisting sincerity before he turns back to you. 
“I’ll take these,” he says a little breathlessly. You find yourself a tiny bit lost in the warmth of his eyes and it takes you a moment to remember to swivel around and slip off the other side of the countertop. You do, though. Eventually. 
“Nice,” you say softly as you shuffle through them, ringing each one through. He’s got pretty decent taste, even if less than a week ago you were actively cringing at his choice of cover song. (It’s okay. That was before you knew better.) “Do you– need sleeves, or…?”
“I’m good. Thank you, though.” Vernon rests his hands against the edge of the counter and drums a quiet rhythm out with his thumbs as you tap away at the register. “Are-... you guys busy tonight, by the way?”
You look up from placing the records into a paper bag, glancing over to your colleagues who both rush to shake their heads. Vernon looks from them, to you, and you mirror their motions. Even if I was, you start to think wistfully. I’d make time.
“I’m down at the Velvet Lounge later on. Across town? It starts at eight thirty; I could get you guys on the list, if-... um…”
“That’d be awesome,” Chan says, nodding so hard you’re surprised his head doesn’t roll off his shoulders and start bouncing across the floor. 
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Seungkwan adds. 
Vernon grins at them both, humming softly, before turning back to you and fumbling with his wallet to take out his card to pay for his purchases. You turn the machine around to face him; he hovers with his hand just above it. 
“Maybe… I’ll see you tonight, too?” He says.
You can’t help the delight that rises inside you, as if it’s been injected straight into your bloodstream. It’s everywhere, all of a sudden. In your brain and your heart and your bones and in your lungs.
Yet, you somehow manage to keep your composure when you say, “yeah. Maybe you will.”
The payment goes through and you slide the bag over towards Vernon, your eyes never leaving his and his eyes never leaving yours. His fingers brush over yours as he takes it from you, the bite of the cold ring on his index finger a shocking contrast to the warmth the rest of his hand radiates. You hope your little gasp isn’t too audible, but… the way Chan whirls around to face away from the scene in front of him (presumably to poorly conceal his laughter), you know you haven’t gotten away with it.
“Cool,” he says, hesitating another second before finally pulling himself away. He bows his head in the direction of your friends, sending another of those irresistibly sweet smiles at you, and then he starts off towards the door. “See you, then.”
You feel your pulse finally start to slow as you grip the counter for dear life, setting out a long, drawn-out breath. What just happened? Why do you feel all… fuzzy?
“Maybe… I’ll see you tonight, too?” Chan asks in the deepest voice he can muster, snapping you out of your own head none too pleasantly. You turn in their direction as your other favourite moron feigns tucking hair behind his ear and flutters his eyelashes across at Chan.
“Yeah… Maybe you will.” And Seungkwan’s imitation of you is a little too accurate. Creepily so, and you want to curse him out for it. Instead, you scrunch up a bag to throw towards the pair of them, grinning despite yourself as they both swerve to dodge it.
“Oh my God, shut up,” you chastise them. You don’t have any bite, though, your brain still tingly and positively reeling and seeing Vernon’s dazzling smile every time you so much as blink.  And when Seungkwan takes a running start and launches himself, full-force, into Chan’s unsuspecting arms? When Chan lifts him up and spins him around, and when they start making kissy-noises at each other between unearthly cackles? 
You know that the next few hours are going to be the longest of your entire life.
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thank u for reading!! i hope you liked this lil snippet!! i got kind of impatient with myself and needed to post something about this, so if you're interested in the full fic please feel free to drop a like, an ask, a reblog or a comment to tell me your thoughts! this piece has become sort of my passion project the last six months or so and i'm really excited to share the whole thing with you guys when it's done.<3
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fbfh · 3 months
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i mean i feel like leo is such a bottom... i imagine him begging for more and whispering your name?? like yk what i mean??
OOOOOOOOH YES BABES. yes. THIS is the good shit.
oooh fuck fuck fuck (which is concequently exactly what he whines as you ride him. boy is SUCH a good bottom.) this man just cannot get enough of you. when you touch him he (literally) combusts. he feels like everything you do is tailored just to bring him to new depths of passion and yearning and pleasure he didn't even know existed. he can't believe he lucked out with someone as incredible as you. you make him buzz and hum and shake in a way he's never experienced. it's so addictive, YOU'RE so addictive, and he gets so completely insatiable. this boy will let you do anything to him. spit in his mouth, suck your fingers, overstimulate him till he's crying, it all sounds perfect to him because it's with you. oh my god and can this boy beg. his beathing get's so ragged and his brilliant mind is so clouded with lust that he can't even think, every cell in his body, every neuron firing off is just you you you. he doesn't even remember his own name but he can't stop moaning yours. he's grabbing at you - if his hands aren't restrained, that is - clinging to you desperately as you make him convulse, as you milk him dry, until he's shooting blanks with nothing left to give and no idea what round you're up to. by the time you're actually really done, he feels you pull off of him and lay down next to him, pulling him into your warm embrace. his mind his so foggy and fucked dumb with pleasure he still can't think, but he buries his face in your neck, in your chest, breathing in your sweet musky smell. he kisses you, relishing in the salty tast of sweat covering your skin as you play with his hair and rub his back and praise him so sweetly like you do. each of those alone would make him dizzy, but combined? it feels just as good as every orgasm you just milked out of him. everything you do, each sweet touch is pure bliss. he never wants to leave your arms, never wants to stop feeling your touch and smelling your skin and tasting your lips.
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