#i think is safe to say this movie became my comfort movie

[myfictionaldreams]

Merry Christmas // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was a simple question: Have you been naughty or nice this year?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, costumes/roleplay, rough oral (f and m receiving), rough sex, size kink, praise kink, choking, sir kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, subspace, aftercare

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry, it's been a while since I've posted; I promise to get back to requests at some point. Until then, I just wanted to post a little something and to say Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and Happy Holidays to everyone else!

Words: 2.8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Winter was one of your utterly favourite months just for moments like the one you were currently experiencing. The snow layered thickly against the outside of your home, causing a darkened shadow on the inside, which only meant that the blazing fire lit the sitting area in beautiful deep orange and red. The sweet smell of hot cocoa wafted from the kitchen, only making your smile grow as you pulled the fluffy blanket further up your body until the only exposed part of you was your face.

Your back nuzzled further into the soft cushions of the coach you were waiting patiently on, watching the movie with half interest as the comfort of the moment had you wanting to drift into sleep. What’s more was that the meetings that had been planned for later in the evening had inevitably been cancelled due to the freezing weather, which meant that you knew you could sit in with your two boyfriends without the fear of them being out on the dangerous roads, just to attend a threatening meeting.

They were home. Safe. With you.

Blinking open an eye and looking around the room, it dawned on you that they’d been gone from your side for so long that the parts of the cushions they’d been sitting on had turned cold. You’d been drifting between sleep and trying to cuddle closer to them for an hour when Bucky shifted, causing a groan to burst from your throat.

He’d simply kissed your temple tenderly, earning a much-deserved smile in return as he explained that he would make the three of you hot cocoa. Steve had then mumbled something about helping him, but you were too busy trying to reposition your body and get used to not having them squishing either side of you.

Sitting up slightly on the couch, you glanced briefly over the back towards where the kitchen was to see if you could spot either Steve or Bucky, but neither were in sight.

“What’s taking you both so long? I’m getting so cold and lonely out here without you”, you shouted idly with a hint of a whine for emphasis. As you stared up at the TV attached to the wall above the fireplace, you contemplated what film the three of you could watch tonight when you became distracted by the footsteps coming from the kitchen. Frowning, you began to shout, “What took you both so … long?”

Any words you were thinking of asking were swiftly forgotten as your view of the TV was replaced by both of your boyfriends, each standing in oversized Santa trousers, each held up by black suspenders over their shoulders. The red velvet material that covered their strong legs was cuffed with thick white fluff around the ankles and waistline. However, your attention wasn’t forced on this as your eyes squinted, not quite believing the detail; “Have you oiled your chests?” you asked quietly, throat suddenly thick with saliva.

Bucky smirked, tensing his pecs so that you could see the oil's gleam better in the fire's orange light. In any other situation, you might have laughed at the fact that they looked like wannabe Santa strippers, but your pussy was being a traitor with the deep pulse that had your thighs clenching with the desperate need to find some relief.

The baby oil that covered the top half of their naked body seemed to extenuate the god-like bodies they both had, the muscles over their arms and abs flexing with the subtle movements they were both making. Even Bucky’s metal arm was oiled, causing the silver shade to shimmer and gleam.

Your head swivelled between admiring the both of them, unsure what to say or how to act. Thankfully, Steve was the first to speak, his thumbs hooking into the base of the black suspenders as he asked in a deep, gravely voice, “Have you been naughty or nice this year?”

Your lips automatically flicked up at the corners to a teasing smile, but the single eyebrow raised by Steve had you falling right into the trap. All the thoughts that had crossed your mind to laugh and joke with them had quickly melted into the submissive, needy girlfriend that they both wanted.

“Um, nice - I think, " you respond before biting your lower lip, a move that had both Steve and Bucky reaching forward, but the latter made first contact, his metal thump gently easing out the lip from between your teeth.

“Nice huh? You sure about that, Doll?” Bucky asked, his fingers firmly holding your chin so you could not look away from him.

You shivered as Steve eased away the blanket, and even though the room wasn’t cold, the sensations pulsing through your core had your body overreacting. Your eyes had drifted over to Steve, who had squatted to be closer to your height, but a sharp tug on your chin from Bucky had your attention back on him as you tried to form the words to respond to him. “Ye-yes. Yes, I’ve been nice”.

A sharp gasp left your mouth as a quick tug of your nipple from Steve had your body shifting upright. With your arousal building, your nipples had pebbled beneath the thin, oversized top that you wore. Bucky’s eyes seemed to darken as he watched your reaction, the subtle way your hips ground on the couch.

“Really? Because from what I’ve seen, it looks like you’re being a very naughty girl right now. Tell me, Sweetheart, what do you want for Christmas?”

“You”, your response was instantaneous, and it seemed to be the correct answer with the way Bucky smiled down at you before releasing your chin.

“Well, it still remains to be seen if you’ve really been a good girl”, Bucky emphasised the last two words, knowing just how those words stroke the deep praise kink that further warmed your pussy, your wetness beginning to coat your lips and drench your shorts.

“Pl-please let me prove it. I want to be both of yours, good girl.” You look between where Bucky still stood above you, and Steve knelt at your side.

“That’s the thing, Sweetheart. The boss down there seems to agree with you. He thinks you’ve been a good girl all year round for his treats, but me? I’m not convinced; I think I need you to show me just how good you can be”, Bucky explains with darkness lacing his words. “Stand up”, he orders, full of authority. You do, being careful not to knock into Steve as you stand with enough speed that you are somewhat lightheaded. Both of their hands were on you in a split second. Steve grabbed the waistline of your shorts, and Bucky pulled the shirt up and over your head until the two of them had you standing completely bare.

Ungracefully, Bucky pushed against your shoulder, forcing you to sit back onto the warm cushions, looking up at him with wide eyes. A gentle tremor was pulsing through your body with anticipation of what was to come. Your cunt would have been soaked just from the way they were both acting, but with the outfits as well, you were near feral with need.

Bucky’s warm hand gently wrapped around your throat, his thumb and forefinger on either side of your neck, feeling the galloping pace of your heartbeat as you stared up at him. “Will you do everything I say?” he asks with a more gentler tone than before.

“Yes, sir”, you say, voice laced with desperation.

“Good, then I need you to ignore everything that Boss is going to do to you. The only thing I want you to do is to keep your eyes on me”.

“Yes, sir”.

With great ease, Bucky pushed against your neck, forcing you to sit back correctly against the cushions as he began to stand on the couch, just as Steve moved between your legs on the floor, lifting them until your legs lay over his shoulders.

With the oil, your legs wanted to slip off, so his massive hands had to grip onto the flesh of your thighs, keeping them thoroughly in place as he lowered his face to the heat and wetness that was begging for his touch.

As his tongue caressed the length of your pussy, drinking down the juices you’d seeped in the moments of seeing them in the outfits, your moan was cut off by the light squeeze around your throat from Bucky as he subtly reminded you of his demand. Your eyes moved away from Steve and up to the tall, foreboding figure above you as Bucky’s metal hand drifted to his suspenders, pushing them off each shoulder.

“Remember what I said. I want you to ignore him down there and keep your eyes on me. Now, why don’t you prove to me why you should be on the nice list?”. 

You were unsure if, by ignoring, he meant for you not to moan or react to Steve’s tongue as it circled your swollen bundle of nerves, but it was damn near impossible to be silent as the waves of toe-curling pleasure sparked through your core. However, your mouth was now salivating for another reason as Bucky pushed the red velvet material down his hips until midthigh, and the thick, veined cock of your boyfriend was throbbing in the air before your face.

Resting your hands on Bucky’s thicks and licking your lips whilst also trying not to crush Steve with your thighs, you willed Bucky to come closer with a pathetic squeak. Thankfully, he removed his hand from your throat and rested it on the back of the couch, using it to lower his body and directing his cock to your mouth. You didn’t waste a second before licking around the tip, gathering all the precum into your mouth before swallowing the salty goodness down, swiftly followed by a few inches of his hard length.

Bucky’s sigh was praise enough to have you feeling sated and happy as you began to pleasure him with your tongue and mouth, almost matching the movements of Steve between your legs.

“That’s it, just a little more; I know you can take it”, Bucky encouraged with a firm hand on the back of your head. As his cock reached the back of your throat and the overwhelming urge to gag overcame you, you attempted to relax your throat to take him deeper, which thankfully worked, ignoring the tears that now lined your eyes from the stimulation.

It didn’t help matters that your throat kept spasming with the moans and whines from Steve’s treatment of your pussy. He was eating you like the man was starved. Devouring is the best way to describe the way he was licking you out. His tongue changed from delving into the depths of your soaking cunt, twisting and turning to stimulate all the nerves within, just to then pull out and his teeth to gently graze your clit, causing a throb from your walls which was the gently eased by his tongue once more.

It took almost no time at all before you were cumming into his mouth with a flush of heat and added wetness that coated his chin and cheeks. Steve didn’t stop, though, and used your overstimulation post-orgasm to draw you closer to a second orgasm.

Your nails digging into the soft material of Bucky’s Santa trousers helped to keep your ground and not drown in the overwhelming length that was still forcing down your throat. With all the time you’d been with Steve and Bucky, you’d thankfully been able to train your throat to be fucked and take more of their length compared to when you were first with Steve.

This feat was a minor miracle because when Bucky began to take control of the situation and gyrated his hips so that he was now just straight-up, fucking your throat, it meant that you were able to breathe through your nose at the correct times without panicking.

Saliva had filled your mouth from the fucking and was steadily dripping down your chin, causing obscene sloppy noises to come from you, but this only added more praising groans from Bucky as you knew he loved a sloppy blowjob.

“Fuck, you’re being such a good girl, Doll. Remember what I said, eyes on me only”. You tried to nod, but the cock in your mouth hindered your movements as your eyes remained focused on the buzz-cut brunette standing over you.

This became more difficult as you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye as you came for the third time. Steve was beginning to straighten his height but remained on his knees; however, your legs were lowered until wrestling around his waist, but his grip remained tight and firm, keeping them in place.

Without warning, immense pressure and stretching of your cunt began to contort your body as Steve began to fuck into your cunt. Thankfully Bucky pulled out enough that you could gasp without his cock filtering the noise as your eyes clenched shut from the welcomed intrusion. Inch after inch filled your empty hole until his hips were flush against yours.

As you and Steve both released a relieved sigh, the dominating hand on the back of your head began to firmly tug your lips closer to Bucky’s cock once more until you were full with both of them.

The two worked together like they did in every aspect of the word. One of them remained in your body as the other pulled out. In out, in out, they fucked you until you were a trembling, wet mess.

Thankfully, now, they were both heavily praising you, which was like sweet music to your ears.

“Taking my cock so well”.

“Fuck, you always make me feel so good. Yes, just like that”.

“Such a good girl, Doll. I know you wanna cum on Steve’s cock; do it. Cum for him”.

You did. Many times, in fact. Steve had you cuming so many times that you’d lost count as a sweet warmth wrapped around your brain, leaving you feeling like you weren’t in your mundane house anymore but amongst the clouds, floating endlessly in pleasure. Your hands had dropped to your side as all of your energy was now being reserved for sucking Bucky’s cock and taking the punishing pace of Steve’s.

Eventually, Steve was the first to cum with a harsh grunt and snap of his hips as heat and thick wetness flooded into your cunt. He remained in place, holding your legs around his waist as his cock began to soften.

Bucky’s chest was now glistening with both sweat and oil as his eyebrows pinched together, his cheeks rosy with a flush as he groaned deeply, “I’m cumming, holy shit-”. You did gag this time as his entire cock bulged into your throat, the whisps of trimmed hair on his pubic mount tickling your nose as he came.

You worked hard to swallow every drop of him down until your lungs were burning for breath, and he gently eased out of your aching jaw. Your mouth tingled as you licked your swollen lips, sure that if you tried to talk now, all that you’d be able to achieve is a dreadful, deep, gravely voice.

Bucky leapt off the couch, disappearing into another direction you were too tired to follow. Thankfully, Steve remained with you as he carefully repositioned the two of you so that he now sat in the middle of the seat and had you sitting in his lap. Your head felt heavy as it lulled against his slipped chest, but you still hummed in contentment as he kissed your forehead sweetly whilst wrapping his strong hands around your shoulders.

“Hey, Sweetheart, I need you to drink some of this; it’ll help your throat”, Bucky encouraged a few moments later as he sat next to the two of you with a mug of steaming hot cocoa. Steve helped lift your head as Bucky held the drink out, tipping it slightly so that you could drink a couple of sips, moaning at the chocolatey sweet taste and the warmth that did soothe your sore throat.

“Well done, just a little more”, Steve whispered against your cheek as he lay delicate kisses against your sensitive skin.

Finally, with the drink gone, Bucky leaned closer to you, giving your lips a much-deserved kiss before pulling away with a cheeky glint in his eye. “So, do you like the outfits? They were Nat’s idea. Pretty sure she meant it as a joke”, he wondered out loud, but your giggle and nod recaptured his attention.

“I loved them”, you whispered with a voice thick with tiredness and evidence from being thoroughly fucked.

“Good, because I can’t wait to see what you’ll look like in the outfit we bought you. We think you’d be the perfect match to be Mrs Clause, but I must admit, there was significantly less material”, Steve explained as his fingers massaged into your still aching legs.

“I can’t wait, but maybe tomorrow”, you admit tiredly, relaxing further into the arms of both of them. 

#mafia au #mafia stucky #mafia!stucky #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky #stucky x reader #stucky smut #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #bucky smut #bucky x reader #marvel smut #mine* #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky #stucky

[freedomfireflies]

Stuck With You*

Summary: You and Harry have been assigned to a case halfway across the country. And getting stuck for over twelve hours in a car with him is nothing short of excruciating.

But having to share a bed with him?

A fate worse than death.

(aka: enemies to lovers + one bed trope!)

Word Count: 7.7k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Take care of yourself first, only consume what you feel comfortable with!*

BAM!

The violent sound of the car door being slammed is what jolts you from your nap, weary eyes fluttering quickly as you sit up in the rather uncomfortable chair.

You aren't sure how long you've been asleep but from the lack of light outside, you guess quite a while.

So, in an effort to assess your location, you lean forward to peer through the windshield at the bright, neon sign shining just above you.

Roadside Motel and Inn.

Slowly, the pieces begin to come together as you yawn and roll your head back to relieve some of the tension in your neck.

You and Harry have been on the road for exactly twelve hours. 

Twelve long, excruciating hours filled with bad rock music, limited snack breaks, and arguments over which part of the map to follow.

Harry doesn’t obey directions very well, something that became abundantly clear when he threw the map out of the window somewhere back in Ohio.

You have to smirk to yourself at the memory of his little tantrum before you realize...he's not in the car with you.

Curious as to where he went, you look back out the window just in time to see him slipping into the lobby of the motel, that familiar, sour scowl still set firmly on his face.

He must be going to book a room for the night, and you feel rather relieved to be calling it quits for the day.

Although, this motel doesn't look all that...safe. Or sanitary. In fact, it kind of looks like the motel in a horror movie where they'd find a dead body.

But, you aren't in a position to complain, so you lean back in your seat and wait for Harry to return with a room key.

However, after five minutes has passed and Harry has yet to return, you realize that something must have gone wrong.

And knowing Harry…it's a pretty safe bet.

So, you retie your shoes, zip up your jacket, and slip out of the car.

You can hear the aggravated arguing before you’ve even reached the lobby door. And you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes when the sound of Harry’s seething retort echoes into the parking lot.

“You aren’t fucking hearing me,” Harry is growling as he leans across the counter. “Two rooms. That’s all. I don’t fucking care about bed sizes or furnishings. I don’t fucking care if the TV is on the goddamn ceiling. Just give me the fucking keys.”

The poor man behind the counter looks absolutely exhausted with him (a feeling you know well) as he waves his hands in front of his computer. “I don’t have two rooms available, sir. I only have the one. One room. One queen-sized bed. One TV on the floor.”

Harry slams his palm against the desk with malice as you rush forward to intervene.

“Hi. I am…so sorry about my friend,” you begin hesitantly, pinching Harry’s hip in warning. “But, um…are you sure you don’t have any other rooms with two beds? No matter the size? We aren’t picky, really, we just…we’ve had a long day. And we’d really appreciate anything you can give us.”

The man’s eyes soften while Harry scoffs.

“Sorry, Miss,” the desk attendant sighs. “Just one room with one bed.”

“I don’t fucking believe you,” Harry begins again, tossing a vengeful glare across the counter. “There’s no way every other room is booked up but that one. What do you want, huh? You want money? Is that what it’s gonna take? Fine. How much fucking money is it gonna take for you to give us a key to a room with two beds?”

With a sigh, the worker says, “Sir…there are no more rooms. I don’t know what else to tell you—”

“You fucking prick. You think you can just con us out of another room because it’s the last minute—”

“Sir. No room in the inn. I don’t know what else to say—”

“Oh, you won’t say fucking much with my fist down your throat—”

“Okay, all right, let’s calm down,” you interject, wrapping your hands around Harry’s upper arm to tug him away from the desk. “We’ll take any room you have. Please.”

The charged silence seems to span an eternity as the desk attendant goes to retrieve a key.

And as he does, Harry rips his arm from your grasp while viciously whispering, “I had it covered.”

You snort. After all, you both know that’s not true. 

Once you’re officially checked in, Harry storms for the exit, nearly breaking the glass in the lobby door as he slams it open and shut. 

You follow a few feet behind, desperate to put some distance between you and his unjust wrath.

But, even still, you don’t miss his aggravated grumbling as he stomps back to the car, griping and cursing about, “Shitty fucking motels,” and “sleezy assholes with a stick up their arse.”

You suppose it would almost be funny if you weren’t dreading having to spend a night with him. In fact, you’re almost tempted to offer to sleep in the car but…well, you hate those fucking seats.

Harry is already unpacking your things by the time you reach him, tossing items left and right as he attempts to retrieve what you’ll need for the night.

He finds your duffle, yanking it from the backseat before nearly hauling it at you as you catch it and go stumbling back.

Then, he pulls his own backpack free before slamming yet another door shut.

With that, he leads you to your room, booted feet stomping across the concrete as you trail behind. 

It takes him about five minutes to figure out how to even get inside, large fingers fumbling with the keys as he growls and nearly shoves his fist through the door.

Once you’re inside, he flips on the light, and you both take a moment to assess its condition.

The queen-sized bed is more like a full. The wallpaper is faded and peeling. The smell is…unplaceable. The carpet is stained and dingy. The TV (which is not on the ceiling) is at least forty years old. And the bathroom has no door. 

And seriously, what is that smell?

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Harry huffs under his breath, backpack dropping to the floor. “No. Absolutely fucking not. Not happening.”

“Look, we don’t really have a choice, do we?” you argue as you move for the bed to study its condition. “We’re in the middle of nowhere and the next hotel isn’t for miles.”

“So?” he sneers, moving his glare to you. “S’better than this.”

“This is fine,” you retort, but wince as you say it. “Yeah, it’s not…great. But we’re only here to sleep and then we’re back on the road.”

“No,” he decides, arms crossing as he shakes his head. “Uh-uh. Not fucking happening, I’ll sleep in the parking lot.”

“Okay, great. Buh-bye, then,” you call, waving your hand through the air as if to dismiss him.

His eyes narrow. “He lied, by the way.”

Turning around, you gingerly lower yourself onto the mattress, expression scrunched as you make contact.

Ew.

“Uh…who?” you ask, rather distracted by the somewhat moist duvet beneath your ass.

Seriously, why the fuck is it wet?

“The owner,” Harry snaps, head jerking toward the door. “When he went to get the key, there was another fucking key right next to it. For the master suite.”

“…okay?”

He seems rather unimpressed with your answer. “Seriously?”

“What?” you huff as you stand back up. “Maybe it’s his room.”

“It’s not,” he decides haughtily. “No, he doesn’t fucking sleep here. ’Cause even he knows this place is a fucking dump. All right, satan’s asshole is cleaner than this room.”

Your nose crinkles. “Ew.”

“Exactly. So, get your fucking stuff and let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“To the master suite, are you not fucking listening?”

“Harry,” you nearly scoff. “We don’t have a key. Okay, and even if we did, that’s…you know, illegal…I think.”

“God, you are such a fucking pussy,” he hisses, already spinning around to return to the door. “Fine. Fucking stay here. I don’t care. Sleep with the cockroaches while they make babies in your ear.”

You gasp as he disappears into the parking lot, the rather unsettling image in your head making your muscles recoil.

Ew, ew, ew.

You don’t know where he’s gone. Perhaps to argue with the owner again or perhaps to sneak into the other room.

But you don’t worry about him. Instead, you worry about what he said. About bugs, and babies, and them crawling into your ear, and mold, and bedbugs, and termites, and—

You fling yourself toward the door, duffle bag in tow as you slip from the room, nearly running into Harry on your way out.

He’s already returned, a key now spinning around his pointer finger as he nods at you. “Changed your mind, I take it?”

You exhale a deep breath. “Did you at least pay for the room?”

“What do you think?” he snorts. “Fucking waited till he went to the bathroom and snatched it.”

“Harry, he’s gonna notice the key is missing.”

“No he’s not. I put the old key in its place.”

You lean back. “Oh. That’s…smart.”

“Yeah. Thanks for sounding so fucking surprised,” he grumbles before brushing past you toward the stairs. 

“Come on, that’s not what I—” You begin but stop when you realize arguing with him is rather futile.

Instead, you follow after him toward the second floor of building as he leads you toward the end, where only one room lies. 

He manages to get this door open a little quicker and once it swings open, your eyes widen.

It’s not the Hilton, but it’s a hell of an upgrade. The room is significantly larger, it doesn’t smell like ass, and the bed is huge. At least a king, you imagine, if not bigger. With what looks to be fresh, clean sheets and even a nice throw blanket.

Harry grumbles something about, “Now that’s more fucking like it,” as you both continue into the massive space to look around.

There’s a mini bar, two TVs, and a nice vanity in the corner. The wallpaper isn’t stained, the carpet is soft, and this bathroom has a door.

“Shit,” you breathe as you practically levitate toward the mattress. “Okay…I hate to say it, but…you were right. This is…so much better.”

“I know,” he deadpans, tossing his backpack toward the floor before moving for the couch placed just across from the bed. “Okay, I’m going to sleep. We’re leaving at eight. Try not to fucking bother me until then, yeah?” 

With that, he flops down onto the sofa, eyes falling shut as he settles back into the cushions.

A little surprised, you stare at him, curious as to why he’s chosen to sleep on the most uncomfortable piece of furniture in the room. In fact, the floor would likely be more relaxing.

However, his expression remains placid, most likely aware of your presence but refusing to acknowledge it. “Go away now,” he mumbles without ever glancing up. “Stop fucking hovering and go the fuck to sleep.”

And you’d likely argue or remind him again of how unpleasant he tends to be but choose instead to obey as you head for the bathroom. After all, you are tired, and tomorrow you have yet another long day of traveling ahead.

With him. And his outrageously hostile temperament.

Once you’ve changed into some pajamas, you exit the tiny bathroom and scurry to the bed. It’s still winter outside, and even though this is the master suite, they apparently haven’t mastered heat.

The covers are thin, hardly adding even one degree of warmth. You tug the throw blanket further up and curl yourself into a ball, hoping to find some relief from the shivering of your teeth but to no avail. 

You have no idea how Harry isn’t freezing his ass off but can’t exactly focus on him as you begin to lose feelings in your toes. And now, the large bed seems to be working against you since all it does is provide you with more space to be cold in. And even if you wanted to readjust, you’d lose the spot of warmth you’ve created, forcing you to get stuck with the cold sheets once again.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harry suddenly growls, and you vaguely see the outline of his body as he straightens up from the couch.

Curious, you sit up as he stalks over to you, his large hand coming out to snatch onto the blankets and rip them back.

“Shit,” you breathe, recoiling away from the frigid air. “The fuck are you doing—”

“You won’t stop fucking shaking and it’s fucking annoying,” he snaps as he climbs onto the mattress beside you. “Move.”

A tad stunned, you blink at him. “I—seriously, what are you doing—”

“I’m trying to get some goddamn sleep,” he huffs, as if it were obvious. “But I can’t with your fucking teeth making so much goddamn noise. So, I’m gonna fucking hold you until you stop shivering.”

“Like hell you are,” you snort, already wiggling away from him. “The whole fucking point of us finding another room was so that we didn’t have to share a bed. Remember?”

“Yeah, well, that was before your teeth started doing the tango,” he retorts. “Now shut the fuck up and cuddle me.”

“I—Harry. I’m not going to cuddle you, that’s gross—”

“Oh, grow up. God, you are so fucking dramatic. We’re adults—”

“Yeah, but we’re not in fucking Twilight. Okay, Jacob? I don’t need your doggy heat to warm me up—”

“My doggy heat? The fuck does that even mean? I wasn’t gonna hold you doggy style—”

“Yeah, ’cause you’re not gonna hold me at all—”

“For fuck’s sake,” he seethes for a second time before his arm is extending across the space between your bodies to latch onto your hip and drag you closer.

You don’t have the time to protest before your face is being squished into his chest as he pulls the blankets back up. 

Your brain is the next thing to freeze as you take a moment to comprehend what the fuck just happened.

And why you aren’t fighting it.

Because much to your dismay…he’s right. Again. Instantly, this is significantly better, and you can already feel the movement return to your toes as you take a deep breath.

And suddenly, you realize that he’s…everywhere. Against you, around you, inside you. Well, his smell is, anyway. The subtle scent of his cologne making a home in your lungs.

And it’s…nice. A masculine vanilla, of sorts. Comforting.

…ew.

And while your first instinct is to reach up and shove him away…you don’t. Instead, your hands come to rest on his chest as you feel each curve and dip of his strong body. Maybe you’re too cold or too tired, but whatever the case, you don’t push.

“You can’t do this,” you choose to mumble, despite the fact that you do nothing to stop it.

He simply snorts under his breath. “Already am.”

You shift but don’t pull yourself out of his arms. “I can’t breathe.”

“You’ll get over it.”

Your eyes narrow, even though he can’t see you. 

For a moment, the dark room falls quiet. The sound of his breathing above you is soft and you feel his body rise and fall with each one. It nearly lulls you to sleep as the heat begins to surround you, much like his arms have.

“Why are you so mean to me?” you hear yourself whisper, momentarily stunned by the words that came from your own throat without permission.

He seems to tense. “I’m not mean to you. That’s just…you know, our thing.”

“Our thing is you being mean to me?”

“I’m not mean,” he repeats sternly, arms constricting around your back. “Trust me, if I were fucking mean to you, you’d know it.”

“So…this is you being nice?”

You hear him huff. “Can you please just go the fuck to sleep?”

“Okay,” you murmur, with absolutely no plans to do so. 

But you allow him to think that he’s won for about two minutes before you voice your next question.

“Why is being mean our thing?”

Another sigh. “I swear to fucking God—”

“You used to bring me cookies,” you remind him, the memory of when he first joined your sector years prior coming to mind. “Every morning. You’d bring me cookies from the bakery you stopped at on the way to work.”

Again, he goes quiet, muscles hard beneath your touch. “I don’t remember,” he replies after a minute, the cadence of his voice so low you almost don’t catch it.

“I do,” you say, fingers absentmindedly stroking his soft shirt. A nervous habit. “I remember. It was my favorite part of the day. You were so…kind. Quiet. Maybe a little shy, but…you were a great addition to the program. I liked having you there.”

He snorts again, the sound full of disbelief and contempt. “Yeah. Right.”

You lean back, head tilting to look up at him. “I did.”

He looks down. Stares. Says nothing.

You don’t know what you wanted him to say but you do suppose you want to know why. What changed between the days when you were almost friends to…now.

“I’m not mean to you,” he finally answers, a bit softer than his last remark. “Not on purpose, anyway.”

“Oh, so the constant insults and degrading comments are just a part of your charm and charisma?” you tease, hoping to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t work.

His lips press into a thin line. “Why do you care if I’m nice to you or not?”

“I’m…’cause you used to be,” you say, rather confused by the question. “And clearly something changed, I just…I don’t know. I want to know why.”

“Why?”

“Yes, why.”

“No, why do you want to know?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it doesn’t matter. We’re not friends.”

“Yeah. I know. Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why aren’t we friends?”

He leans back now, too. “…why the fuck would we be?”

You shrug. “Because we work together. And have to spend a lot of time together. And it would be nice to at least be civil.”

“I don’t want to be civil,” he scoffs. “Especially with you.”

Now even more startled, you blink at him. “I’m sorry, what the fuck does that mean?”

Again, his jaw clamps shut, effectively ending his side of the conversation.

You’ve struck a nerve, but you have no idea which one.

And despite the fact that he’s still holding you, his touch has grown cold and distant.

So, you snatch his shirt between your fingers and tug. “Stop doing that. Just talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about—”

“Yes, there is. Look…if I…did something…just tell me. Okay, because I probably didn’t mean to, and I can’t exactly apologize for it if I don’t know. So, just…spit it out—”

“No—”

“Yes—”

“I said fucking no—”

“And I said I don’t fucking care. Now, tell me what I—”

“Charlie.”

The name brings your response to a halt as you hesitate and flick your eyes between his, looking for understanding. “…what?”

Harry takes a deep breath as if steeling himself from the conversation. “Fucking Charlie, all right? You started dating Charlie. That’s what you did.”

There’s a certain disdain behind his expression that you manage to make out and it throws you for a loop. “I…wait, what? I don’t get it, why is that bad?”

He hesitates before sighing, seeming to dismiss the conversation altogether. “Forget it.”

“No, seriously,” you insist, tugging on him again. “Did…did you want to date him?”

His eyes roll. “Here we fucking go—”

“No, I mean it. ’Cause I don’t understand why else that would make you hate me—”

His attention snaps back down. “I don’t hate you, I…look. It doesn’t fucking matter, all right, so just drop it—”

“It does matter. It does, Harry, because it’s been driving me nuts for four years and I can’t take it anymore.”

And maybe he’s tired, too. Maybe he’s delirious from the long journey or maybe he’s just tired of talking, but for whatever reason, he finally lets his vulnerability slip through the cracks.

You see it peak through his expression. See it—feel it—in the way he holds you. Looks at you. In the way he fights with himself to reveal the truth.

“Because I liked you,” he says. So simply, you could almost be tricked into thinking it is. “I liked you. A lot. But you didn’t like me. You liked him.”

You can say nothing. Can offer no response or reaction as your lashes flutter and your brain works to process what he just admitted to you.

His jaw tenses as he waits. “Yeah. Exactly. So…there you fucking go. Happy?”

“I—” Your heart begins to race wildly inside your chest as this secret bounces around the walls of your mind. “Harry, I didn’t…I didn’t know.”

“I know,” he mumbles, shifting a little as his grip begins to loosen, desperate to let you go and pull himself away. “Why would you have? I’m not Charlie.”

You frown. You don’t like the implication in his tone. “No, you’re not Charlie. And you should be really fucking glad you aren’t.”

Now, it’s his turn to work through your reply. “…what do you mean?”

“I mean Charlie was a fucking ass,” you tell him, past resentment slipping through your hostile tone. “Okay, cheating on me was one of the nicer things he did.”

And you almost think you see pity in his eyes mixed with just the slightest hint of rage. “He cheated on you?”

“Oh, yeah. Cheated on, belittled me, ditched me in the middle of one of our dates with no way to get home,” you recall. “Not to mention he was shit in bed, he couldn’t be bothered to learn my last name, and he owes me over fifteen thousand dollars.”

Harry rears back. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Nope.” You almost smirk, somehow amused by his utter shock. “So, trust me…Charlie was not a threat to you. In fact, nobody could have been a threat to you.”

 “And what does that mean?”

He sounds suspicious and you hesitate, curious as to whether or not this is really something you want to admit.

You swallow the urge. “It just means…you were my friend. And I cared about you, and it kind of fucking sucked when you turned on me.”

His expression falls, frown mirror your own. He opens his mouth, ready to respond, but then stops. He stops and he looks at you and he mulls. 

You wish he’d allow you a visit inside his mind. Wish he’d clue you into his thought process but perhaps it’s better this way.

And maybe he was right. Maybe this is your thing. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t like you. 

Maybe that’ll make it easier to stay away.

“So…he was shit in bed, huh?” Harry murmurs after a moment, and your brow raises.

“Really? That’s what you’re taking from what I said?” you tease, playfully slapping at his chest. “Very funny.”

“M’not being funny,” he insists, nodding his chin at you. “Must have been hard for you. Or…I guess soft?”

Your eyes narrow as you smirk. “Ha. Ha.”

For the first time all day…he smiles. “Look, I just…I feel bad for you, you know? I mean, yeah, the cheating and stealing and being an ass part all suck. But…the bad sex? That’s just unforgivable.”

“It was heinous,” you agree, feigning a wounded sigh. “Seriously, I had to replace three vibrators over the course of our relationship. Three.”

He sucks in an empathetic breath. “Yikes.”

“I know. But I got really buff in my right arm.”

His grin widens until you can see his bunny teeth. “For fuck’s sake—”

“But not the left one for some reason. So it was really uneven. I looked like a Picasso painting—”

“Oh, my god. Stop. Please stop talking—”

“What? You’re the one that asked.”

“Yeah, I asked because clearly you need some help.”

This time, you rear back, eyebrow raising as you look at him. “I’m sorry…what?”

And he almost looks like he regrets the words that just came out of his mouth, but instead of taking them back…he shrugs one shoulder up. “Well…come on. You have to admit you’re…tense.”

“Wha—I am not tense,” you sputter. “I’m…I…just because I don’t put up with your shit does not make me tense.”

“No, but you not being able to come the way you deserve does.”

It’s so…tenacious the way he speaks. The way he says deserve like he’s had this thought before.

You wonder if he has.

“And who says I haven’t?” you counter.

“Have you?”

Your split-second hesitation is answer enough and his smirk returns as he hums to himself.

“Got it,” he mumbles, letting his eyes rake down your face. “Like I said…s’a shame.”

You snort, “Oh, is it?”

“It is.”

“And why is that?”

“Cause I could probably help you out.”

There it is again. That confidence in what he’s offering that makes your breath hitch. “Harry…come on.”

“Come on what?” he teases. “Your tongue? Your stomach? Your pus—”

“Okay, all right, enough,” you interject, wincing a bit as you lean away. “Seriously. Stop.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think? We can’t…this is a weird conversation,” you huff. “You don’t…that’s not what we…it’s just weird.”

“Why do you think it’s weird?”

An unamused glare begins to form. “Because it is.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because we don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Talk like that.” Your hand quickly gestures between your bodies. “You said it yourself. Our thing is being mean. Arguing and fighting and you getting on my nerves.”

He hums again, as if considering it. “Well…maybe this can be our thing, too.”

“Harry.”

“Princess.”

The exasperated expression on your face deepens at the familiar nickname. “It is not going to be our thing.”

“Fine,” he sighs, one hand raising as he surrenders himself. “I’m just saying…it would probably help you stay warm.”

Oh, he’s such a fucking—

“That’s…dumb,” is what you choose to reply with, to which he smiles.

“Maybe,” he agrees. “But it works. All that body heat, and friction, and excursion—”

“Harry.”

“Princess.”

Your lips set into a line. “Are you being serious right now or are you fucking with me? Because I really can’t tell.”

“I’m being serious,” he says, just as simply as before. “Dead fucking serious.”

“Why?”

Another shrug. “Told you. I feel bad for you.”

You scoff rather incredulously as you turn over onto your back, forcing his arms out from around you. “I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Clearly.”

It goes quiet then, both of you falling in line with the comfortable silence.

After a moment, you look over, suddenly aware of the absence of his body now that you’re no longer trapped against his chest.

And you almost…miss it. The warmth, and the slight serenity, and…the safety.

He’s one of the most annoying people you’ve ever met but he’s damn good at his job. He’s quick, he’s smart, and he’s quite capable.

And he’s got more muscles than he’s got brain cells.

“What?” he grumbles, seeming to finally notice your staring.

“Sorry,” you whisper, shaking the thought of him free as you glance back up at the ceiling. 

But you feel him study you. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“No,” you deny instantly, cheeks flushing at the very idea. “God, Harry. You’re so—”

“Annoying. Yes. I know. I’m also quite good with my hands if that’s any help—”

“Harry.”

“Princess,” he mimics, and you can hear the smile. “We don’t have to, I’m just saying…my services are here.”

“Services,” you repeat under your breath, snorting some. “How romantic.”

“Never claimed to be romantic. Just claimed to be good.”

“Well, you would think so.”

“I don’t think so. I know so.”

“Yeah, well, Charlie thought he knew so, too.”

“Well, we’ve already established I’m not Charlie, haven’t we?”

Your eyes flick back over to his. “Maybe. That doesn’t make you good.”

“And what about me implies that I wouldn’t be?”

“I don’t know. The fact that you called it services?”

“Getting you off is a service. A very nice one, actually. Or would you rather call it a favor?”

“I’d rather call it nothing. Because it makes it sound cheap.”

“We’re in a roadside motel. What about this entire trip doesn’t scream cheap to you?”

“The fact that we work for the government. And the fact that they’re not paying us to…you know.”

“What? You can’t even say it? Come on, Princess, I thought you were better than that.”

“I’m…I…” It’s incredible how quickly he’s managed to render you speechless. “I’m just saying, that’s not what we’re here for.”

“People fuck on the job all the time,” he reminds you. “Just last week, Spencer Reid told me about this girl he met in Vegas—”

“I don’t wanna hear that,” you exclaim, hands immediately flying to your ears to protect you from any unpleasant information about your friend. “What he does is none of my business.”

“You mean who he does,” Harry corrects smugly. “Look, Hotch doesn’t care. As long as the job gets done, it doesn’t matter.”

“So…what? That makes it okay?”

“Okay? It’s just an orgasm, it’s not murder—”

“Shit like that is personal,” you huff. “It’s intimate and…delicate. You know? It’s not for people who already don’t like each other. That makes it…messy.”

“Yeah, well…I like it messy,” he says, and despite yourself, there’s a catch in your throat. “Besides, I don’t know why we’re still talking about it if you don’t want to do it.”

You hesitate. He’s got a point.

Suddenly, he pushes up onto his forearm to really get a good look at you. “…unless you do want to. And you’re trying to argue yourself out of it.”

Your mouth drops open. “What? No, I…no.”

He snorts. “Oh, well, I’m convinced.”

“I don’t,” you insist before the truth begins to beat against your ribcage like a drum. “I mean…I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be weird?”

“No. Not unless we make it weird.”

“Well how do I know you won’t make it weird?”

“It was my idea. Why would I make it weird?”

“Because you are weird.”

“Yeah, but I’m still good.”

You exhale a sharp breath. “Harry…I’m being serious.”

He returns your stare. “So am I.”

“Well…I still don’t understand why you want to. Don’t guys hate stuff like that?”

“Stuff like what?” he retorts. “Fingering you? Eating you out? Tasting you? I’m sorry, what part of that doesn’t sound like a fucking dream?”

“Listen, Charlie used to tell me that it was gross—”

“And Charlie’s a fucking pussy,” Harry decides, rather resolutely. “Which is ironic since he doesn’t know what to do with one. But that doesn’t mean the rest of us are. Okay, we know how to enjoy the finer things in life.”

“Is that…a compliment?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“Thanks. Are you convinced?”

Are you convinced? You almost want to laugh at the very question but…perhaps you are. Perhaps he’s right—yet again—and this one-time agreement could offer you a bit of…help.

And heat.

Since it’s still fucking freezing.

“If I say yes…you have to promise to never…bring this up again,” you begin as he straightens up. “Never, Harry. I mean it. Not as a joke. Not when you’re mad at me. Not when we’re in front of anyone. Ever.”

“What, you think I want people to know about this?” He smirks. “Promise. What happens in the shitty roadside motel stays in the shitty roadside motel.”

“Great.” Your hands gather in front of your stomach as you begin to pick at your nail beds. “So…okay. Great. Is that…I mean, are you—”

“What do you need?”

You blink. “What…what do you mean?”

“My mouth or my fingers. What do you need?”

God, this feels too fucking real. You swallow rather thickly as you move your focus to his nose, looking for something less intimidating to concentrate on. “I don’t know. Whichever you want, I guess.”

“It’s not about what I want,” he replies easily. “It’s about what you need. So, I’m gonna ask you again. And this time I need an answer, all right?”

You simply look at him.

“What do you need…to come?” he asks softly, moving a bit closer across the mattress as his breath fans across your face. “Do you need my mouth? My tongue? My fingers?”

His hand outstretches for your neck, palm sliding up until his thumb can sweep along your jaw. 

“Hm?” he hums, gazing down at you rather curiously as you lean back into the pillows. “Or do you need it all? Do you need more? Need to feel full? Fucked?”

You feel like you’re being pulled into a trap. Lured into the devious intentions swimming behind his eyes.

But you don’t…care.

“Can’t help you if you don’t tell me, Princess,” he continues, his voice like silk. Sex. “Give you whatever you need. Just have to ask.”

“I don’t…I don’t know, really,” you whisper, desperate to shove the control in his hands. “I’m not…I don’t care. Do whichever you’re comfortable with.”

“Darling…there is nothing about you I couldn’t be comforted by,” he says, finger teasing your bottom lip. “Do you really think…I’d choose not to feel you? Slip myself inside you and feel how fucking tight you are. ’Cause I know you are, aren’t you, honey? Bet you’re so soft…so warm…so fucking wet. Be so easy to taste you for myself.”

 He was right. He is good at this.

And maybe in the past you’ve liked to have some control, but right now…you’d do anything for him. Be anything he wanted you to be. 

He knows exactly what you need. Knows that you need someone to put you in your place. Guide you toward what you want.

“Why don’t I start with my hand?” he suggests gently, looking for approval on your face. “Give you a minute to realize how much you like it.”

When your only response is continued staring, his head tilts.

“Words, Princess,” he warns. “Or we stop.”

And really, he hasn’t even done anything yet but the very idea of stopping makes your stomach recoil.

“Fine,” you manage to breathe. “Your…hand. That’s…fine.”

You hate how…nervous you sound. How unsure, but Harry is more than willing to make up for the slack, grinning to himself as he trails his palm back down your neck.

“Need you to relax for me, okay?” he instructs as he reaches your chest, delicately and tamely slipping between your breasts toward your stomach. He doesn’t linger, doesn’t graze, doesn’t take a moment to fondle you like a prepubescent horny boy. He does only what he said he was going to. “Just like that, there you go.”

He continues to glide along the fabric of your shirt until he reaches your hips where the band of your pants lie. 

His finger taps against the elastic, almost as if waiting.

“Say it again,” he whispers, dipping down until his nose ghosts across your cheek. “Need to hear you say it one more time.”

And you wonder if he really does want to be adamant about consent…

…or if he just enjoys hearing you submit.

“Please,” you just about gasp, suddenly aware of the lust you feel for his touch. The way you really do feel…empty. “Please, Har…just…just—”

His hand disappears beneath the material, and when you feel him brush over the fabric of your underwear…your eyes flutter shut.

He chooses to forgo skin on skin contact. At least for now, and you imagine it’s because he’s waiting for you to feel a bit more at ease.

And the rather generous thought does something to your stomach as he begins to drag the pad of his thumb down your covered clit.

You go still. Deathly still because it feels so fucking good. You hadn’t realized you were this wound up but instantly…your muscles turn to jelly.

“How’s that, hm?” comes the low purr of his voice, his lips now much closer to your ear. “Feel good?”

You nod mutely as your hands begin to fist the sheets below you. 

“Good,” he replies, seemingly proud as he repeats the previous action before moving down. Then…he tsks. “Oh, honey…what’s this?”

You venture a glance over at him as he leans back to see you.

“Already so wet,” he says, fighting his amusement. “What’s got you so worked up, darling? Haven’t even done anything yet.”

Truthfully, you don’t know. You hadn’t realized. Maybe he’s just that good or maybe your body has been more complicit to his unspoken intentions than you were aware of.

Either way, he’s right. You are so pathetically wet, and he hasn’t even fully touched you yet.

“Have you been thinking about it this whole time?” he asks next, voice slipping back through the needle of salacious resolve. “Hm? Just been lying here, dripping for me? Needing me to make it better?”

He adds a bit more pressure and you gasp, the ache between your thighs growing much more unbearable.

He does it again before slowing down and your chest just about caves in.

“What?” He moves closer again, grinning to himself as he places his lips against your neck. “Something wrong?”

“Har…” you nearly whine, squirming some under his hold.

His tattooed arm flexes as he rolls the heel of his hand down your clit. “What? What is it? What do you need?”

You, you, you. The thought screams inside your head as he licks his tongue along your jaw. 

“Please…” you say instead, hoping you sound desolate enough to garner his sympathy. 

“Please what? Can’t read your mind, honey. Need you to tell me.”

You groan in the back of your throat, partially from his arrogant, flippant behavior and partially from the way he’s pulling at your skin with his teeth.

“Just…just…” Still, the request refuses to come out, and you want to smack yourself for being so weak.

“Just…just?” he repeats, somewhat mockingly but still gentle. “Just what? Just…this?”

You feel his finger hook around the hem of your panties before he’s effortlessly pulling it aside to graze his touch through you.

And you moan, so much louder than you’d meant to. Because even this simple touch does more for you than Charlie ever did.

“Ah,” he murmurs as he dances his mouth down the side of your throat. “That’s what you need.”

And before you have the chance to reply, he’s slipping a finger inside right at the same time that he’s raising up to kiss you.

Really kiss you, his tongue tangling with yours as you willingly give him every breath in your lungs.

The combination of sensations just about kills you as he effortlessly works his touch in and out with ease.

And he’s not recoiling the way you imagined he might. He’s not half-assing it or declaring he’s already done.

No, he’s…he’s indulging in you. Truly and completely as he groans into your bottom lip before sucking on it.

“Fucking knew it,” he whispers, moving to sit up on the bed so he can fully hover over you. “Fucking knew…”

You aren’t quite sure what he means but you do like the way he says it, your skin flushing as he gently introduces you to a second finger.

And it’s so good. So…full. Exactly the way you’d hoped. Exactly the way he’d promised.

Practiced, and patient, and pure pleasure. Right now, you know nothing but this feeling he’s giving you.

His kisses grow hungrier. Angrier. Like he’s fighting himself on how much he’s enjoying it.

And it makes sense. You’re rather annoyed yourself at how easy it was to start needing him. How desperate he’s made you become in such a short time.

Your arms move to wrap around his shoulders and keep him close, nails scratching at the few hairs lying on the nape of his neck.

You hear him sigh. Perhaps with contentment as he places his other hand on the mattress to brace himself and fully give in.

You wish you’d turned a light on. Wish you could really see him. Drink him in. Admire the man you’ve always loved to look at.

Because he is quite fun to look at.

Your hips lift from the mattress as if chasing the feeling he’s offering, and he makes a noise against your mouth that’s a mix between entertained and disappointed.

“Easy,” he chastises, subtly pushing you back down. “Come on, Princess. Be a good girl and stay still for me.”

“Har,” you whimper again, pulling a bit harder on his curls. “Please…just…hurry.”

“No,” he says simply, and your lashes flutter. “No, I’m gonna enjoy you. Gonna take my time…and you’re gonna take it.”

You exhale a wounded whine as he leans back and slowly removes his fingers.

And the loss of stimulation just about ruins you.

“Fuck,” you seethe between gritted teeth. “Come on. God, knew you’d be a fucking pain in my—”

His hands latch onto your pajama pants and underwear so he can pull them down, and when the cold air hits your cunt…you gasp again.

Once they’re off and discarded to the side, he maneuvers along the mattress until he can take hold of your thighs and guide them apart. 

Then…he blows.

A warm, gentle breath dances across your already sensitive pussy, making you tense as he settles onto his stomach.

His fingers constrict around your legs to keep them planted firmly to the bed as he leans in to press a kiss to your inner thigh. 

Then, another.

And another.

And another.

Higher, and higher, and higher until he’s so close…you can practically taste it.

He pauses and you aren’t sure why. You hope it’s not because something’s wrong. Or because he’s repulsed. Or because he’s changed his—

His tongue presses into your cunt with fervor and pressure, cutting your overthinking short as he takes that taste.

And just like that…everything makes sense.

All you understand his him, and his mouth, and his lips, and the powerful rush of immense and innate pleasure washing over you.

But it doesn’t just wash, it surrounds you. Overwhelms you. Pulls you down until you feel like you’re drowning.

There’s static in your brain as he sucks on your clit and squeezes your legs in his hands. As he leaves kisses across your pussy and traces his name across every inch.

“Harry,” you whisper, too overcome to care how pathetically enamored you sound. “Please…please…please…”

You can’t see him, but you don’t doubt that he’s proud. Probably smiling to himself as he releases one leg to slip his fingers back in.

He curls, and he stretches, and he sucks until your skin is on fire. Until it almost hurts. Until you feel as though you can’t hold it.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, nose bumping into your hip as he works you closer. “S’a good girl…you can take it, come on.”

“Shit…shit, Har,” you breathe, muscles burning from the way you attempt to hold yourself together. “Can’t…please…”

“Yes you can. You can, come on—”

“Harry—”

“I know, Princess. I know. S’okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you—”

“Please…”

“Shh…let me play with you. M’having so much fun. Don’t wanna stop.”

And you don’t want him to stop either. You never want him to stop again. You want to stay here, in this shitty motel, on this lumpy mattress, in his hands. Forever.

He’s so warm, and strong, and safe, and good.

And you can feel the tears slip from your eyes from the immense build-up and from the realization that you are so insanely…happy right now.

You hate him. God, you fucking hate him.

But there’s no one else you’d want around. No one else you can even imagine yourself doing this with.

You don’t want to let this go. This joy, this serenity, this moment.

Him.

You don’t want to let go.

But you know…you’ll have to.

The tears begin to flow a bit faster as you suck in a sharp inhale through quivering lips. 

You focus in on his touch. His voice. The gentle rasp that encourages you to keep going. That he’s got you. That you’re doing so good. That he can’t wait to taste you. 

And you can’t do it any longer. Can’t hold off, can’t fight it.

You come with a mangled whimper, fingers clawing down the sheets as your thighs squeeze around his head. As you see a glimpse of heaven while he makes you roll against his tongue. As everything changes.

“Fucking perfect,” he hums, working you through every second, thrusts slowing as he eases you back down. “So good, honey. Just like I wanted.”

But you don’t respond. Can’t. Not out of remorse or embarrassment…but because your throat has gone dry from the tears.

And as the dark motel room falls silent…he hears it. Hears your cries as you struggle to contain your emotion.

“Hey…hey,” he calls sternly, quickly straightening up so he can move closer. “What’s wrong? What happened? Why are you crying?”

You don’t answer as he reaches over to flick on the bedside lamp, and the moment the light fills the room, you throw your hands over your face.

“Fuck,” you whisper into your palms, cheeks stained with broken promises and humiliation. “Fuck…fuck, I’m sorry—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he warns, fingers already wrapping around your wrists to pull them down. “Don’t fucking do that. Don’t. Just tell me what happened, tell me what’s wrong.”

But you don’t. Can’t. You simply blink up at him as he studies you, the trepidation clearly etched across his expression. 

For a moment, you both stay there. Him kneeling above you, hands tight around yours, and you. Lying in your defeat.

After a minute of silence has come and gone, he seems to understand. Seems to accept that this isn’t about what did happen.

It’s about what didn’t.

His eyes grow sad as he sighs and reaches up to brush a thumb down your lip.

Then, he caresses your cheek with more tenderness than you’ve ever seen from him.

“I know,” he murmurs while your heart just about shatters. “In another life…I would have done it right.”

And you know exactly what he means.

You sniffle as he dips down to find you again. Mouth on yours as a hundred unspoken promises pass between you.

“Yeah…in another life.”

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles request #harry styles x reader #harry styles fan #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles concept #harry styles enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #one bed trope #enemies to lovers!harry #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Conrad's panic attack at the end of episode 3 but instead of Steven, reader goes after him. Maybe they no longer speak and had a huge falling out

Seeing that scene gave me so many flashbacks of scary times. When it happens, you sometimes don’t know what is happening and there’s so many things happening at the same time. I often get them at night. Waking up unable to breathe, heart palpitations, shaky legs and feeling so hot no amount of cold air makes me cool enough. Or during ptsd moments. 

Warnings: panic attack

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You were all gathered in front of the television, ready for a movie night. It happened one night filled the screen, a choice made by Belly, but no one was mad about it. Though the seating arrangements caused a few initial hiccups, everyone managed to find a comfortable spot. Belly and Taylor sat closely on the right end of the couch, Jeremiah and Steven on the left, and you occupied the middle. Conrad had the loveseat all to himself.

As the movie began, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Conrad, secretly wishing you were sitting beside him. However, things had changed between the two of you, and you hadn't spoken in months — not since the funerals. 

Beside Steven, Jeremiah's soft laughter echoed, reminding you of the good times you all used to share. It felt like a brief return to the past.

A few minutes in, Conrad’s phone buzzed, drawing your attention. His expression shifted as he read the message, the light amusement on his face falling, the movie now entirely forgotten. He quietly got up, trying to not disturb anyone, and left the house through the backdoor.

A sense of concern washed over you as you watched him go. You couldn't help but wonder what the message on his phone could have been and why it affected him so deeply. Your first thought was that it was about his mom, but Susannah was gone now. So, it was either school or his dad. 

Without hesitation or explanations, you stood and went after him. Steven opened his mouth to ask where you were going, but you ignored him. 

Forgetting about shoes, you let the door slam shut behind you, only thinking about Conrad. You hurried down the deck, seeing his figure walking down the beach in the darkness of the evening. The beach and the sea had always been a safe place for Conrad, he found the sound of crashing waves created soothing.

‘’Conrad!’’ you called out in the distance.

He didn’t turn or stop. He kept walking to the shoreline, his back was hunched as his breathing became rapid and shallow. Like he was struggling to find air. You saw him place a hand over his chest right before he stumbled and fell to his knees in the sand.

Your eyes widened with worry, and you could feel your heart racing. ‘’Conrad!’’ 

This time, you ran up to him. The sand was getting between your toes, a feeling you absolutely despised, but you ignored your own discomfort and focused on Conrad. You fell down on the sand beside him, saying his name again. 

Conrad looked up at the sound of your voice, his eyes wide with fear and vulnerability. His breaths were erratic, and it was clear he was struggling to regain control of the rising panic within him. His eyes were filled with distress, not understanding what was happening. 

‘’I-I can't breathe,’’ he managed to say, his voice trembling. ‘’My chest feels so tight, I—’’ 

Your heart sank as you realized what was happening. Conrad was having a full-blown panic attack. You should have guessed faster. You knew the signs all too well. They can be overwhelming and debilitating.

‘’You’re having a panic attack,’’ you explained calmly, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

Conrad's gaze locked with yours, searching for some form of reassurance. ‘’Make it stop,’’ he stammered, his voice still shaking. ‘’Please, make it stop.’’ He clutched at his chest, gripping his shirt tightly, the air unable to pass through his lungs. 

You had been taught a few techniques to come back from a panic attack, but you figured the fastest one would work best on Conrad. 

You took his hand and put it over your chest. Conrad tried to push you away, but you didn’t let him. ‘’Follow my breathing.’’ 

It felt overwhelming to be touching you, to be so close to you. It made Conrad’s heart want to jump out of his chest. He tried his best to follow along, trying to focus on your breathing instead of how you made him feel. It was evident that he was struggling, but he made an effort to control his breaths, to follow your pattern. 

Gradually, Conrad's breathing started to stabilize, and his panicked expression softened. ‘’That’s it. Keep breathing with me,’’ you encouraged him, offering a sense of safety and stability in the midst of his distress.

As the minutes passed, the panic attack began to subside. Conrad's shoulders relaxed, and his grip on your arm loosened. The crashing waves provided a natural rhythm for his breath, and he started to find a sense of calm. 

Once he was in a better state, he looked at you with gratitude in his eyes. ‘’Thanks for…helping me,’’ he whispered, his voice still shaky but filled with appreciation.

‘’You don't have to thank me, Con,’’ you replied gently.

Con. You had not called him that in a while. It felt strange on your tongue. 

‘’I want to,’’ he insisted. ‘’If you had not followed me out here, I would not have known what to do.’’ Conrad looked down, brushing sand off his jeans. 

‘’Well, I’m glad to have helped you. I…I’m gonna go back inside, now. I know you don’t want me to be here.’’

His words had been harsh when he saw you arriving with Jeremiah yesterday. They stung, but you didn’t expect him to be happy to see you either. Not after your breakup at Susannah’s funeral.

‘’It’s not true.’’ Conrad lifted his head, but kept his eyes on the sea. ‘’I always want you to be there. Even when I say I don’t.’’ 

You looked at Conrad, surprised by his honesty and vulnerability. It was rare he would speak his emotions out loud. He was more of a bottling things up and rarely, if ever, expressing them kind of person.

‘’I'm sorry for what I said to you. For everything,’’ he said, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest. ‘’I never wanted to hurt you, but I did. I should have taken the hand you were holding out for me instead of ripping it off and seeking comfort in someone else's arms to hurt you enough that you'd hate me and go away.’’

As Conrad poured his heart out, you could see the pain and regret in his eyes. For once, he wasn’t pushing you away. He was opening to you and making confessions you never thought you would ever get. 

He kept going. ‘’No matter what I do or say, you'll always be there. Here.’’ Conrad clawed at his heart and then dropped his hand. ‘’You’re engraved in my heart, Y/N, and I can’t get you out. I tried. I tried really hard, but something always pulls me back to you.’’

You took a moment to process his words, then spoke. ‘’Have you ever heard of the Red string of fate?’’ Conrad drew his eyebrow together, so you continued. ‘’It’s an ancient legend that originated in East Asia. The legend speaks of an invisible red string tying two together those who are meant to meet, no matter how far apart they live or how different their lives are. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break.’’

Conrad traced over your pinky, as if he was visualizing the red string there. ‘’Do you think this string is— that our string is tied to each other?’’ 

You looked down where he was touching you, feeling a slight shiver at his touch. You looked back up into Conrad's blue eyes. ‘’Maybe,’’ you replied, reaching out to gently touch his hand.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine

[corrodedhawkins]

I’m thinking of really rough sex with Eddie but then the female character says her safe word and he immediately stops and comforts her

Thank you for requesting! I got another pretty similar ask so I combined them ☺️

Content warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, safe word use, crying, lots of aftercare.

“T-too much. It’s too much”, you pant, gasping for breath.

Eddie’s between your legs, two fingers shoved into you as he pounds them against your g-spot, thumb firm on your clit. He had just made you cum for the third time but he wasn’t stopping. His fingers kept moving as you spasmed rhythmically around them, squirming from overstimulation.

“You can take it”, Eddie only finger fucks you harder, replacing his thumb on your clit with his mouth.

Your back arches, head thrown back against the pillows as you cry out, another orgasm ripping through you.

“Turn around”, Eddie hisses before you can even catch your breath. Once you flip over he grabs your hips, pulling you onto your knees with your ass hiked up. He pushes into you, groaning as you clench around him.

He grabs your hair, fist twisting until he has a tight coil wrapped in his hand. He pulls, yanking your head back to expose your throat.

“Are you going to cum again for me?”, he pants into your neck.

You shake your head as best you can with him holding your hair, “n-no please. I can’t. I can’t cum again.”

Eddie chuckles, grazing his teeth against your pulse point. “You have your safe word kitten, I know you remember it, you told me so before we started. If I don’t hear it I’m not stopping.” He pulls your hair tighter, forcing you further back onto his cock as your back arches.

You try to squirm away, the feeling of Eddie’s cock rubbing against your oversensitive g-spot almost unbearable.

When Eddie hikes your ass up higher, his cock head rams into your cervix on his next thrust in, the stimulation shifting from too much to painful.

“Red”, you gasp, tears suddenly leaking from your eyes. “Red!”

Eddie freezes the second he hears it, thrusts halting as he pulls out as gently as he can.

“Okay, okay. We’re stopping”, Eddie coos. He gathers you into his arms and cradles you against his chest. ”C’mere. I gotcha, you’re okay.”

You’re crying into his chest, shoulders shaking with every sob. “I know, I know. You’re alright”, he whispers. He holds you closer, hands running soothingly over your back as he presses soft kisses to your forehead.

He’s so patient with you, waiting for your cries to die down before he asks what happened.

You shake your head, a wave of fresh tears hitting you. “I’m sorry”, you sniffle. “I-I don’t know what happened. I was fine, and then all of a sudden it just became way too much and I panicked.”

“Shh. Why are you apologizing? There’s nothing to be sorry for, babe.”

“I ruined it, though. You didn’t get to cum”, you frown.

Eddie snorts, “you didn’t ruin shit. I don’t care if I cum or not, I just want you to always feel safe.” He cradles your face in his hand gently, eyes searching yours. “This is why we have safe words, sweetheart. For this exact situation. If you’re ever uncomfortable, we stop. No questions asked.”

“You’re sure?”, you ask through wet lashes, sniffling softly.

“Yes, I’m sure. C’mon”, he rubs your arm soothingly. “Time for aftercare, my specialty.”

Eddie scurries out of the room, clambering around the kitchen noisily. A moment later, he returns with a bar of chocolate, your favorite fluffy blanket, and an ice cold bottle of water.

He laughs as you make grabby hands for the chocolate, unfolding the blanket to drape it around you. Once you’re comfortable, he gets into bed beside you, arm slung around you to pull you close. He hands you the remote, bestowing the ever sacred honor of picking the movie for tonight upon you.

You scroll through Netflix until you hear Eddie groan beside you, his eyes catching what he knows you’re going to choose before you even see it. Once you do, you squeal, excitedly hitting play on the remote.

He pulls you closer as you settle back into the pillows, tucking you into his side. He places soft kisses to your forehead as you watch the Summit logo pass by on screen.

“I’d never given much thought to how I would die”, you repeat with Bella. “But dying in the place of someone I love seems like a good way to go.”

Eddie sighs, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before he rests his cheek on the top of your head to watch the movie. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Sure. Let’s pretend you don’t think Edward is badass”, you say as the deer starts to run through the forest.

“Well he is”, you hear Eddie grumble under his breath.

@ghastlyentity @sweetpeapod @e0509 @stardustmunson @simpingoverfictionalppl @quinnswife86 @munsonquinns @thorfemmes @khaleesibubblegum @manddoublee @mcplestreet @lizziesfirstwife @kellynickelsgirl00 @wroteclassicaly @msmimiandrew @emokid-ellie @stardust-galaxies @escapingthereality

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader blurb #eddie munson blurb #Melissa writes #tw: safe word use

[bambieyedoll]

⊹ BELLA RAMSEY HC ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ

contains: friends to lovers / mini angst / pure fluff

warnings: this is my first post and english is not my first language so i apologize for any mistake in advance.

it would start with small hints they’d give you.

whenever you two were in an interview promoting the new series, bella would wait for you to sit first and then take the seat next to you to be close.

if that wasn't possible, they would steal glances at you from time to time but look away immediately the moment you catch them, pretending to be interested in the conversation with the rest of the cast.

when the interviewer asked you a question, all their attention would go to you and your soft voice.

bella wouldn’t even notice their actions. the need to take anything you gave them was almost natural.

they would unconsciously agree with whatever you said about the series and found themselves leaning forward to your direction whenever you spoke.

while being off screen, bella would try to start conversation with you. it was only a matter of time for you to start going out on your free days.

you two had so much fun together.

you would go out on little dates almost every day to the point fans started to ship you.

bella wouldn’t admit it, but they were secretly thrilled when someone mistook you as a couple. they would look for edits and save them in their secret tiktok acc.

when the nicknames started, you got each other kicking your feet and giggling on the inside.

while you called them “love”, they called you “babe” and “darling”. you both assumed it wasn’t serious but deep down wished it was.

you became their comfort person.

bella would find peace in resting their head on your shoulder while playing with your fingers.

some other times, they would hug you from behind while laying on the couch to watch a movie. they ADORED having you in their arms.

you would fall asleep quickly after bella started running their fingers through your hair. they just had that power over you. they made you feel safe.

the moment they realized you fell asleep, their mind would go back to thinking about you and how you made them feel.

it terrified them.

the idea of ruining your friendship and loosing you was way too much for bella. but they didn’t know what to do with the feelings they had towards you.

one day you would be outside on a date. you two tried to be as cautious as you could in order not to be recognized but the moment you heard your names being yelled, you realized you’ve failed.

pictures were being taken and fans quickly surrounded you. after the massive success of the series, the number of people who recognized you was so much bigger and it took you by surprise.

it was overwhelming.

you tried to put on a smile but the screams and phones being put on your face were too much to handle. bella noticed it.

they interlocked your fingers while holding your hand and that made you look at them. their gentle smile let you know it was okay, they were there with you.

that was enough to calm you down a bit. bella made their way through the people while repeating “sorry” and “excuse me”.

“y/n! bella! are you a couple now?” one of the fans asked and everyone there could hear it.

similar questions about whether or not you were in a romantic relationship were the only thing you both could hear and it made bella uncomfortable.

not of the thought of it. they just didn’t want to have that conversation with you because they knew they wouldn’t be able to lie about their feelings to you.

the way home was silent apart from casual comments and the background music from the radio.

when you arrived to their apartment, you didn’t know what to say. you noticed how bella reacted to the questions and couldn’t help feeling insecure.

“are you okay?” you finally asked them, looking for their eyes while playing with your fingers.

bella was deep in thoughts as well. considering every moment with you till then, debating whether or not it was the right moment.

“yeah, i… it just took me by surprise” they answered with a soft tone before gazing at the floor while you nodded in silence.

“if you… uh, you wanna talk about it?” hearing your voice shaking made them worry and look at you instantly. “i understand that it made you uncomfortable and i’m so sorry. i can post something o-or say something in an interview. i’m so sorry”

bella’s heart broke at the sight of you and was desperate to comfort you. they closed the space between you and held your hands gently.

“what? no! no… baby, that isn’t-“ they stopped themselves. how could they possible explain what they were feeling without risking everything?

“it’s not that i feel uncomfortable because of what they said. i just… i don’t know how to explain this” bella started again but couldn’t find the correct words and it made you tilt you head in confusion.

“is something else going on?” your doe eyes looked at theirs and bella sighed shyly looking down. they could never hide something from you, if you looked at them like that.

“you can talk to me, whatever it is” you reassured them while caressing their hand.

“i don’t think i can” bella’s eyes finally found yours and you both noticed how close your faces were.

your voices were as low as whispers, creating such an intimate moment. you were worried you may be mistaking the situation but you couldn’t possibly move away for them now.

“y/n?”

their eyes took every detail of your face to keep them in their memory, fearing it could be the last time.

“yes?”

the butterflies in your stomach were going crazy with every second that passed.

“i like you.”

they confessed with closed eyes and a fast-beating heart that was about to explode off their chest.

there was a big amount of ten seconds of silence before a small giggle left your mouth. bella opened their eyes in confusion only to find yours glowing in happiness, stealing a nervous smile from their lips.

“i like you too” you replied with the sweetest smile only for and because of them.

your soft fingers traced their cheek as if their factions were made of glass, earning a sigh of relief from them and you noticed little tears in their eyes.

“i’m not dreaming, am i?” bella said with their adorable accent and cute smile and you knew you couldn’t wait another second.

your arms found their way around their neck while their hands instantly moved to hold your waist and pull you close till your foreheads were touching.

you two stayed like that for a little while, just enjoying the moment. you waited for too long.

“kiss me, dummy”

that needy whisper was enough for bella to close the small space between your lips, putting an end to their suffering.

they could swear they saw colors exploding the moment you kissed. your hands were playing with their hair and only then they knew they were addicted to it. bella was addicted to you.

the kiss would end with giggles from both of you. the realization of your feelings being mutual these whole time was funny then.

it lasted less than a minute because the need to kiss you again was bigger and their lips found their way back to yours as if they were their destined to be.

bella would be pure joy.

hugging you and hiding their face in your neck to smell their favorite scent and cherish you finally being in their arms as something more than a friend.

#bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey #tlou #bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey x y/n #fanfic #bella ramsey headcanons #fluff #angst #headcanon #celebrity x reader #lgbtq

[vscabarca]

Can you do a request where Pablo wants reader to seat on their lap but reader doesn’t want to because she’s insecure about how skinny she is and from pass experiences exes have told her that her legs hurt their lap, and teased her for it, can you make it fluff :)

„stay, it‘s comfortable” - pablo gavi

summary: gavi found out about your insecurity, so he assures you you‘re enough.

genre: fluff

warnings: talks about body image, past relationships,

a/n: thank you for the request:)

———

Spending cozy, slow days with Gavi was probably your most loved activity. The hustle and bustle from the week was suddenly forgotten and all that mattered was Gavi and you.

You didn’t need to do much. His presence was already enough to get rid of any negativity, it just felt like you were made for each other.

Gavi usually lingered around the living room, the couch was his favorite spot by far. He could just let his muscles relax, play fifa while you were doing something else or just sleep with you in his arms. It felt like the hectic everyday life stood still, the only thing that mattered was you two.

It was a gloomy saturday, Barcelona‘s usual sunny side was replaced by dark clouds hanging low over the city. You had been doing some schoolwork while your boyfriend took a nap. The plan for that night was to watch a movie and maybe doordash food to his house, both of you were too lazy to cook anything.

After Gavi woke up from his slumber and you being done with homework, you joined him under the fuzzy blanket on the couch.

He immediately pulled you closer, almost to the point you laid on top of him. You giggled at his antics, but secretly loved how he looked for your touch. At the beginning of the relationship you were a bit overwhelmed with how loving Gavi was. Not that you didn’t like it, but because of past experiences with your exes, you were rather reserved when it came to show affection. They made some rather questionable comments regarding your body, but always saying it was a joke. To you it was never a joke. Never should anyone talk about someone elses body, especially not in a negative way.

That’s why you were still rather shy to show physical affection. You‘ve never told your boyfriend about it, you just swept it under the rug, hoping he would never address it.

You were still grinning, Gavi pulled you now completely onto his lap, holding you close. As the giggles settled, only then did you realize how close you two were. You became a bit nervous, insecure even, hoping your legs didn’t hurt him like your exes told you they did.

You were about to sit back down onto the couch, but Gavi held your waist tightly.

„Stay, it’s comfortable. You’re warm.“ He said, engulfing you in a hug.

„It is?“ You asked rather surprised, not thinking he would actually like it.

„Mhm, is it not comfortable for you?“

„No! yeah it is. It’s just people have told me otherwise.“ You mumbled. Gavi just furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding what you were trying to say.

„What do you mean by that baby?“ He asked, his fingers playing with your hair.

„Well, my exes always made fun of my legs because they are on the thinner side, telling me it was uncomfortable when I sat in their lap. That’s why I didn’t do it again.“

„Why did you never say anything amor? I hope you know I‘m not like your exes, or that’s what I at least hope.“

„Of course you aren’t! I‘m just overthinking things sometimes.“ You spoke, clasping your hands together behind his neck.

„I love you. Your legs, your arms, your belly button. I love everything about you. What your past relationships said is not okay, but I want you to feel safe with me and not worry about such silly things. I love having you close to me.“

Your smile couldn’t be bigger, you even started to blush. You hid your face in his neck, earning a laugh from Gavi.

„Nu-uh, don’t hide, I want to see your pretty face.“ He said and pecked your lips several times. He brought a blanket over you two and pulled you flush against him.

„That’s actually comfortable. Now you don’t get rid of me anymore.“ You giggled as you laid there in his arms.

„Good because we won’t get up from this couch anytime soon.“ Gavi laughed and proceeded to pick out a movie for you two to watch.

#gavi x reader #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x reader #gavi #gavi one shot #barça #pedri x reader #football x reader #football one shot #fc barcelona

[togrowoldinv]

Accidental Cuddles

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

You keep ending up in situations where you’re cuddling with Natasha

Note: This is a soft one. Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

The first time it happened it was a complete accident.

You were assigned an overnight mission with Natasha and when you got to the hotel room there was only one bed. She tried to sleep on the floor, but you protested.

“If you sleep on the floor, then I sleep on the floor too,” you had said.

“Then what’s the point of the bed?” She asked.

“Exactly. There is no point then. Come on,” you said.

You were both exhausted from the mission and a good nights sleep was calling your names.

Natasha laid down a careful distance from you. The bed was plenty big enough to share, but she didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Or maybe she didn’t want her feelings for you to get even more complicated.

After falling into a deep slumber, Natasha woke up first in the morning. As she became aware of her surroundings, she realized she had another body tangled up in hers.

Her arm was draped around your waist as you rested with your head on her shoulder. You breathed into her neck and your legs intertwined with hers.

If she could just ignore reality, then she could imagine this is how it would feel to wake up with you every morning.

But the reality is that you’re not together and she untangled herself from you as stealthily as she could. You simply rolled over and went back to sleep.

When you finally woke up, Natasha hadn’t suspected that you knew about the accidental cuddling.

Until it happened again.

This time is happened at the compound. It was movie night, a new bonding experience the team was trying, and you sat next to Natasha on the couch.

Most of the team had gone to their rooms, but you and Nat were trying to finish the movie.

Sleep started to take over and you leaned slightly to rest your head on the couch. But what you found was Natasha’s arm outstretched behind you. She tried to move it but you stopped her.

“You’re more comfortable than this couch,” you told her.

She only laughed shyly and left her arm in place. You snuggled into her shoulder once again and her fingers ghosted over your arm. She wanted to touch you, to hold you, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment.

When you fell asleep against her, she turned off the movie and you practically laid across the her lap. You weren’t consciously doing it, but Nat just felt so safe that you couldn’t help yourself.

She smiled to herself as she drifted off to sleep as well.

You woke in the middle of the night realized where you were. Your head was on Natasha’s lap and she was asleep.

Grinning, you closed your eyes and went back to sleep.

But once again, Natasha untangled herself from you and got up early. You missed her warmth and she all but vanished the rest of the day.

Later that night, you decide to confront her about it.

You haven’t been to her room before, but you got up the courage to go to her floor and knock on her door.

“Who is it?” Her voice comes from the other side.

“It’s y/n,” you say. “Can we talk?”

The door opens to reveal Natasha in her pajamas. The plaid shorts and a black tank top make her look so perfect.

“What’s up?” She asks.

“Can I come in?”

“Uh, yeah,” she agrees hesitantly. You walk into her room and take a quick glance around.

It’s about what you expected. Very organized and neutral colors aside from the desk that is littered with photos of the team and of Natasha with Clint’s family. She also has drawings and trinkets that the kids have gifted her.

“I would’ve cleaned up if I knew you were going to stop by,” Natasha breaks the ice again.

“If you don’t think this is clean then I hope you never see my room,” you joke.

You share a laugh. She gestures for you to sit down on the edge of her bed next to her.

“Natasha,” you begin, swallowing your nerves. “I wanted to talk to you about- well about us.”

“Okay,” she says. “Can I say something first?”

You nod and watch as Natasha fiddles with her fingers. A nervous tick you’ve only seen her do a few select times.

“I really like you,” she begins. “But I’m just not sure what to do about it.”

She pauses and you jump in. “Well, we could be together.”

She looks stunned at your words. Had she been unaware? You don’t think you did a great job pretending you weren’t in love with her.

“Y/n, I’m not someone you need to date,” Natasha says. Her barriers start to rise and you realize you have to stop them before you’re locked out.

“Natasha, you are exactly the person I want to date. I’ve liked you since I met you. And clearly, I feel so comfortable with you that I’ve subconsciously snuggled with you a few times,” you say. “So please, can we try?”

“I don’t know,” Nat says. “You’re so young and innocent. And I’m, me.”

“Exactly. You’re you. And I-” you stop yourself, but she remains silent. “I love you.”

Natasha’s eyes fill with tears. No one has ever been so outwardly loving of her and said it to her while really meaning it.

“I don’t know what to do,” Natasha admits.

“That’s okay,” you tell her. You scoot closer to her and pull her into a hug. “I don’t know either, but we’ll figure it out.”

“I want to try,” she says, her face buried in your neck. She mumbles something else in Russian that you don’t understand.

When you pull back from the hug, Natasha presses her forehead against yours. You soak up the moment together.

That night, you sit on her bed with her and talk about how this is what you both want and how to make it work.

You fall asleep with your bodies entangled once again, but this time it’s on purpose. And you wake up the next morning still tangled together and feeling safe and warm.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort

[vrisrezis]

Soooo you said something about a Pavitr angst fic? 👀👀👀

What about one where the reader is a spider woman from another dimension and actually stays to comfort Pav after his last scene in the movie? They all left him and I felt so bad like please he needed a hug his world could literally fall apart

GOD ANON LETS KISS I LVOE THIS SHIT

Pavitr was so scared, so unsure. You haven’t seen him like this, ever. Even back when you saw him first discover his powers, when he first became spiderman, he wasn’t like this. And you couldn’t blame him.

He’s never dealt with anything like this, while in many dimensions, spider people have to save their entire city from imminent peril, you know pav hasn’t had to deal with that quite yet. And not only that, he hasn’t learnt the big consequences with becoming spiderman. He hasn’t learned the sacrifice.

You tried to reassure him the other spiders would handle the gaping hole in the middle of his city, that he didn’t need to worry about it at the moment, his city was safe, his best friend and her father were safe too. A comforting hand on his shoulder as you rubbed that spot in circles, while he put his masked face in the palm of his hands. You sat there for what felt like hours, and as you noticed the sky getting dark, you realized it was.

At this point, his face was in your chest, arms wrapped around eachother as you comfortingly rub circles in his back, now, rather than his shoulder.

He speaks for the first time in hours, “did you…. lose somebody… somebody important?”

There’s not really anything you can say. It’s painful to think about.

“My best friend.” you admit quietly, “I was able to save his mom but… he wasn’t so lucky.” you say, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how that mirrors gayatri and inspector singh. He can’t help but let a few more tears slip out, despite how uncomfortable it is under the mask. You run your masked fingers through his hair, knowing that always makes him feel relaxed.

“I know this is hard, but you will get through this. Okay?” you say, kissing the crown of his head.

“I don’t know what to do.” he says, and you reply with a soft “I know.”

“I need to tell my aunt, everything.” he says, and you nod.

“Don’t worry about all that right now.” you say, “just try to relax, if only for a little bit. Collect your thoughts, yknow?”

he nods, and it’s quiet again.

You guys have been dating for barely 4 months. To normal people, that is not nearly enough time to consider being in love with their partner. But you and Pavitr aren’t exactly normal people.

He takes off his mask, and you see his tear stained cheeks, and the tears that continue to flow. He slowly takes off your mask, too. You two are impossibly close, you don’t think you’ve ever been so close to pav even in all the cuddle sessions you guys have had.

You feel his breath fan your face, “I love you.” he admits with a whisper, shakily. You put your hand on his chin, lifting his head up and you kiss him.

“I love you too.” you say as you two part.

#pavitr x you #pavitr x y/n #pavitr x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #across the spiderverse x reader #Spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x y/n #spiderverse x you #spiderman x reader

[i9messi]

Dating Max Verstappen

Specific things I think Max would do as your boyfriend

max’s masterlist

Max was a little shy at first, but he became so much more extrovert when you spoke to him casually

At the beginning, he stalked you once or twice on social media. Not in a creepy way, just because you had caught his eye and he wanted to ask you out

He may seem a little cocky at first, but everything changed when you met him and realized how he actually was

Max is a beautiful person and you enjoyed spending time with him

Max is someone who gives you 100% of his attention, hears you talk about what you are most passionate about and asks you questions about it. He is a very attentive person and makes you feel comfortable

Less than you both thought, you started to date

He treats you like a queen. If you want something, he’ll do his best to get it for you as quickly as he can, there are no no no’s when referring to you

Max is quite disciplined and organizes everything with the smallest detail, including dates and holidays

When something does not go as he wants he tends to get frustrated, but you tell him that you love that he had spent time to organize something

You don’t need everything to be perfect, because even though things don’t go as your boyfriend has planned them, everything is already perfect

He learns as much as possible about your tastes. You have a specific favourite music artist? He’s gonna play that artist’s music every time you’re in the car just because he knows you’re gonna be happy with that

He loves your happiness and will do everything to make you smile

Movie nights. Max likes to watch films with you, no matter what genre or whether they are children’s films, just spending time with you is everything he needs

“If you steal the blankets, I'm going to put my cold feet on you.”

He gives you teddy bears and flowers when he has to be away from you for a few weeks

You casually steal all of his Red bull's merch

“That's my cap?”

Both adopted a pet and accepted that this is your child. You post photos of Max and your "son" all the time, because they give you so much tenderness

Max is such a boyfriend material

Fans love the couple

You are the type of girlfriend who supports him in every race and who is there to listen when things do not go as predicted

He knows you’re going to be there to support him and that’s all he needs to feel safe

You’re the one who keeps him focused, with his feet in the real world

You were so proud of him when he won the formula 1 championship in 2022

He’s an incredible driver, even though many have opinions formed against him

You are the same one who will be there to defend him always, from bad press and people who have prejudices against your boyfriend

Outside open doors he’s the least clumsy person you’ll ever meet but in the comfort of your home, it’s the same one who asks you for hugs and kisses when he needs it most. Max is like a little boy who needs attention

“Just a kiss, pretty please, liefde.”

You can’t say no to Max, not when he looks at you with those cute eyes and talks to you with that accent that makes you crazy

He always tells you nice things in Dutch and you have to ask him what it means, the answer makes you smile

“voor mij ben jij de wereld.” (to me, you're the world.)

Max gives you a lot of pet names in Dutch, of course

Besides being your boyfriend, he is also your best friend and confidant

You can tell him practically anything and he will be there to support you

Stressful day? You can both cook a meal and then lie down on the couch to wait for it to cook. You both just need to be hugging and talking, nothing more than that

You’re soulmates and you love each other so much

#max verstappen blurb #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen headcanons #verstappen #f1 #formula one #f1 blurb #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you

[ahhhwomen]

Copycat

Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Dark!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

A/N: I have never written smut before, I had at least five mental breakdowns trying to get this done. This is not what anyone would think of when they think of Ghostface Wanda, this entire thing is like a fever dream to me. This went so far away from the franchise it's crazy. I am sorry in advance.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

Warnings: Ghostface, 2 Ghostface?, implied murder, knife play, humiliation, degradation, smut, so much smut, Mistress kink, Halloween, dub-con, Dom!Reader, Sub!Wanda, Wanda is a total bottom in this entire thing Minors DNI 18+

Summary: Halloween is around the corner, all you want is a calm night home alone… though it seems the universe can never give you a break. Or; Your phone rings with a mysterious number on the night of Halloween. What’s your favorite scary movie?

Word Count: 6448

You have always taken a liking to Halloween, but even you have to admit this year was turning out to be too much.

Between the excessive amount of Halloween activities and decorations that have taken over your small hometown and the new wanna-be Ghostface, it was starting to get to you.

Since the October month started, bodies have been turning up left and right, all with the same knife lacerations from the iconic Ghostface's choice of weapon. Or, a copy of it, anyway. You don’t have to be a genius to know it's a mere copycat, the real Ghostface only kills on the night of Halloween, not the entire month. Plus, whoever this copycat is, they are sloppy and attention-seeking. The real Ghostface has been killing for over five years at this point, and they have still not been found. This copycat will probably be busted before Halloween even takes place.

Still, you would be lying if you said it didn’t concern you a bit, at least with the real Ghostface you knew when to expect havoc and you could take precautions to keep the ones you love safe. A copycat was not as easy.

You keep caution close to your heart as you continue your way to Wanda's house, you and Wanda have a tradition to watch all of your favorite horrors the night before Halloween since you would both be busy, trick or treating and partying the night of.

Or, she would be busy trick or treating and partying the night of, while you stayed at home worrying about her, with your doors double locked and the porch lights off. Though you like Halloween, you preferred to stay home and comfortable, rather than to fit into a tight outfit and worry if too much or too little of your ass is showing.  

You ring the doorbell on Wanda's ridiculously decorated door and wait while you think over what snacks you should buy for yourself before all the partying starts tomorrow.

It's Mrs. Maximoff that opens. “Hey Sweetie, Wanda is just in her room, go right ahead.”

She lets you in with a warm and welcoming smile and a pat on your shoulder. You thank her and climb up the stairs of their expensive house. You like Mrs. Maximoff, ever since you were little you have been best friends with Wanda. When Wanda and her mom realized you were often alone as a child since your parents were divorced and your father wanted nothing to do with you, while your mom always worked to avoid you, they took you in and quickly became your pseudo-family.

You will always look up to Mrs. and Mr. Maximoff for their help and welcoming presence, but it was different with Wanda. Her parents treated you as their daughter and you felt immensely grateful and happy to be a part of it, but Wanda has never been like a sister to you. Even when you were kids she was always so much more to you, though as much as it breaks your heart, you can never tell her that.

Wanda was way out of your league, she was smart, funny, popular, and astronomically beautiful. She was perfect, and you? Well, you were less than, to say the least.

You shake your thoughts off as you enter Wanda's bedroom to find her changing.

You roll your eyes. “I know you could hear me walking up and yet you still chose the last second possible to put your clothes on.” Wanda laughs as she pulls the hem of her t-shirt down.

“Well, I gotta give my little pervert a show, don’t I?” Wanda smiles with mirth and you return it. “Pretty sure you are the pervert in this accession.” You laugh with a shrug.

It's now Wanda's turn to roll her eyes as she lays down, signaling for you to do the same. “Potato potahto,” you smile as she laughs to herself at her stupidity. You missed her, you hung out just the day before, but you missed her on a deeper level, it has been like this for a while so you just push it down as you stare up at her ceiling.

Her ceiling is filled with posters and drawings of Ghostface. Actually, her entire room is filled with it, ever since that night five years ago tomorrow, Wanda has had a deep obsession with the Ghostface killer. And unhealthy obsession, you think to yourself as you see a new replica of the Ghostface mask on Wanda's desk. You look over at Wanda with disapproval at the new addition. Wanda pretends not to see you.

You lean up on your elbows before voicing said disapproval. “Wands, we talked about this.” She too pushes herself up onto her elbows and slaps your arm gently. “It's not that bad,” she gives you her best puppy dog eyes, but you don’t budge.

“It's wrong that’s what it is, you can't simp over a real killer Wanda. It's not right” Wanda huffs. “You are just jealous I am giving someone else attention.” You know she doesn't mean it like that, but it stings when she puts it so bluntly. There is a hint of truth in what she says, but you ignore it. “I am not jealous, you are just sick.” You say it in a lighthearted manner, but you can tell Wanda does not appreciate the call out.

“No, what is sick is what that dickhead would have done had Ghostface not killed him that night.” You stay silent, you have to agree with her on that part. You just nod, but make sure to add a “Still.”

Sensing that this is not the right time, you change the subject by asking what movie to start with.

“Same as always dumbass,” Wanda giggles as she gets up to retrieve her computer. Already set up with Friday the 13th.

The night has dragged on for way too long in your opinion. Kids and teenagers alike running up and down the streets for hours on end sure can piss you off.

You make sure to keep the news on as you scroll through social media, Wanda said she had some family over, so you don’t have to worry about her this year. Which is a relief, you aren’t really in the mood for an extra adventure today anyway, it's been forever since you could just stay home the entire Halloween night.

It's strange, the copycat and the original have not shown their face today. The night is almost over, but only party drama and yelling neighbors have been reported on. The original is one thing, but you were sure the copycat would take advantage of the night. Surely this build-up hasn't been for nothing?

You are almost disappointed.

In the mood for something to do you get around to making dinner, it may be the middle of the night, but like the nocturnal creature you are you don’t care either way. You never had a routine, not until you started hanging out at Wanda’s house, so some habits are hard to shake.

You are just finishing up with the dishes when your phone calls. The newly dried plate clatters as you put it down. You dry your hands with the kitchen towel and make your way over to the couch where your abounded phone lays.

The caller ID is unfamiliar.  

“Hello?”

Your brows furrow when silence hangs in the air. Just as you are about to hang up a deep voice answers.

“Hello, is Ms. y/l/n there?” You are a bit dumbfounded, your mother always insists on people calling her by her first name. You can't even remember the last time you heard someone call her by her last name. It must be a work call then, maybe your mother mixed your numbers up. Something that is even more peculiar, you are not even sure she knows your number.

You right your posture and lean more heavily on your right foot, shifting your weight. Already suspicious, you make sure to answer vaguely and straightforwardly. Whoever they are you aren’t interested in talking much more.

“No, I'm sorry. This is her daughter, I can give you her number if you would like?” You can hear a puff of laughter on the other end. Their tone unsettles you.

“Aa, so you must be y/n. I have heard quite a bit about you.” Now that is not right, your mother barely acknowledges your existence, there is no way she talks about you. You have had family members be surprised, that your mother has a child, when they came over for Christmas once. You were seven at the time.

“Who is this?”

Now fully engaged in this mystery of a conversation you turn off the TV and leave the living room, intending to end this conversation swiftly, after getting some questions answered, and going to bed. It is only 1 a.m., but all the noise has been wearing you thin the entire day.

Again, there is a long silence before they answer.

“I'm your mom's friend.” They don’t add anything beyond that. Now you know they are lying, no one calls your mother by her last name if they are her friends. You are curious as to what they could want, however, so you keep the conversation going.

“Oh, really? What's your name?” You subconsciously cross your left arm over your right while holding the phone tightly to your ear.

“You can call me Mike.”

You blink.

“Mike?”

“Yes.”

You remove the phone from where you were holding it against your ear to just look at it for a moment before answering.

“Mike is the only name you could think of? Really Wanda?” You smirk.

“…”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” Wanda avoids your question by asking her own.

You bite your lip satisfied with yourself. You lay down on your bed and make yourself comfortable before bothering to reply.

“SpongeBob” Wanda will find that reference hilarious, you were nine when she introduced the show to you. You had nightmares about that damn sponge for weeks, there was just something about him.

That’s why it takes you by surprise when the voice seems angered by your response.

“This is not the time for games!”

You agree, you are far too tired for these mind games so if this is how she wants to play this then fine.

“Fine, how about this? Who is your favorite killer?” You put extra flair of dramatics into your voice while you question her. The dramatized voice paired with trivia questions comes naturally to you after watching all types of trivia game night shows with Wanda throughout the years.

“I asked you first.” Childish.

“No, you asked me what my favorite horror movie is, I answered.” You thought it over, “Oh well I answered a show, but you get what I mean. Now I want you to answer my question.”

There was a tense rustling on the other end and stomping footsteps before it got silent and the answer was a mere whisper. “Ghostface.”

Not very surprising. You smile to yourself as you roll over on your stomach and fiddle with your dove. You wonder what she is up to.

“It's my turn now,” the deep voice darkened, “Why did Ghostface kill that boy five years ago?”

Your body tenses. You don’t like where this is going, so you play dumb. “How am I supposed to know?”

The voice gets louder. “Answer me!”

You feel yourself tighten a little at her tone, what is she getting at? “Look Wanda I don’t know what you want. I don’t know why Ghostface killed Vision.”

All background noise disappears from the call, you can’t even hear breathing. Then, a strained voice, like cat claws on chalkboard, speaks up.

“Wrong answer.”

Before you can reply the phone call ends. You debate with yourself on whether or not to call Wanda, she usually plays some prank now and then, but this was something else.

You don’t have time to think about it before a knock can be heard on your front door. An unpleasant feeling pools in the bottom of your stomach as you try to ignore it. Plenty of children can’t take a hint and come here looking for candy, you rationalize with yourself.

You are just paranoid.

The knocking doesn't stop, however. You puff your chest before getting up and deciding to put an end to this. When you unlock and tear open the door, intending to give a stern talking to whatever kids were up so late, you are stunned at the lack of anyone.

You slam your door closed and lock it. Whoever they were, they were messing with you. Probably just some bored teens from your high school, or Wanda. Either way, if you didn’t react they were sure to get bored.

Suddenly as you are heading back upstairs the pieces of the puzzle take place.

The voice, Ghostface was known for using a voice box and calling their victims with stupid trivia questions. You knew this well, you just didn’t expect it to happen to you.

You are three steps up the stairs when you hear your door unlock.

You snap your head to the sound. There are only three people with the keys to your house, yourself, your mother, and Wanda. You know Wanda likes her fun, but she wouldn’t take it this far.

The handle doesn't move. You wonder if you imagined it all together? No this isn’t right. You scan your surroundings before going back to the door.

Sure enough, both locks were undone.

“Enough!” You hate to admit it, but you were getting nervous.

“Whoever the fuck you are, fuck off!”

You can hear your phone go off in your room, you curse yourself for never taking it with you as you again lock the door. You take a glass from the kitchen, rigging it up on the front door handle. Some kids don’t know when they have taken it too far, so you have to make sure to be one step ahead.

Like always.

You walk deadly silent as you go to get your phone, now that you have finally caught on, you have no doubt of what game will start once you pick up the phone.

You are being hunted.

You slide your thumb over the screen, picking up the call. You keep moving.

“What do you want?”

The voice sounds ruff and excited. “Me? I am just trying to get someone's attention.”

Go figure. The one Halloween you just wanted to spend in peace the damn copycat has to target you.

“Right. The infamous copycat is it? So is it like a kink or..?” You are standing in your kitchen now, if they want to play, you’ll play. You tighten your hands into fits as you anticipate the comeback.

“Cheeky. No, I am just trying to prove a theory.” This bitch.

You can hear heavy breathing on the other end like they are running… Or have just stopped.

You grab the strongest knife in your drawer. Then you put it back.

It’s a risky move you know, but you also know that no one ever thinks of the back door leading into the woods and it's safer for you to run than fight. At least for now.

“And what do I have to do with this theory?” You chew your lip in annoyance as you lean your body weight forward. Ready to bounce any second now.

“You don’t, you are just an easy target.” This absolute fucking bitch.

“What theory is it that you are trying to prove? Trying to test Ghostface's ability to kill or something? There can only be one or whatever?”

“Don’t be jealous, this will be over soon.” They have no idea.

The glass shatters and you run.

You don’t even think about it, you just bok it straight out of the back door and into the thick forest surrounding your home. You can hear them close behind.

The voice box activates. “There is no point in running!”

Truly an amateur, everyone knows running will be your safest bet when you don’t have a weapon. Fighting should always be the last resort when you are inferior to the killer. It's basic movie logic.

You run until you see it. Your safe haven.

The shed.

The shed creaks open and slams shut as you barricade the door. You have been trying to hold it together all night, but now that you stand there surrounded by your darkest secret and seconds away from revealing it to the psycho copycat, you can't help it. You are getting excited.

It's been ages since you got to play, and there is no need to run now. They are about to enter your territory; they will be inferior.

You have just finished getting ready when you hear the door kick in. Just as expected the killer stops as soon as they take in their surroundings.

Got you.

The copycat threads carefully, the shed is unexpected. Unfaired territory, filled with… Filled with Ghostface?

The shed is a rundown abandoned shit box the copycat has never seen anyone use. Yet here it stands, filled to the brim with every crime and murder Ghostface has ever committed. It's written in more detail than what they could ever put together themselves. They have read any and all pieces of information out there, yet they don’t even know half of the scribbled and planned murders that litter the walls and table.

It only takes a moment for it to set in, they just walked into the lion's den.

And you will show no mercy.

The copycat freezes as a voice rings through the still air.

“Don’t look so disappointed. You are getting what you want, aren’t you?”

You stalk your prey. Your infamous knife is strongly gripped in your right hand, as the copycat turns towards you and backs up in fear. Their knife drops to the ground as you trudge forward. God, it's delicious the way you can see them shiver beneath the poorly-made mask. A mask you have most definitely seen before.

They walk straight into your little homemade table and you take the advantage to press your body into theirs. Your masks almost touching.

“Tell me,” you raise your hands to their covered face. Slowly peeling the mask off as you continue. “What theory was it you wanted to prove? Hm?” Just as red hair reveals itself a hand takes hold of your wrist to stop you from going any farther. That’s fine by you, you know they didn’t realize when you deactivated the voice box.

Nagging them on you continue, “Don’t leave me hanging, what do you want to know? I might just answer it before I cut your pretty tongue out.” You hold the knife up to their face before slowly dragging it down the mouth of their mask and leaving it just under their jaw.

Wanda's meek voice responds.

“I- I I didn’t mean too- too-“

You mock her “too- too-?” “Spit it out pretty girl.” You dig the knife in, just a little.

Too lost in the situation, Wanda hasn't caught onto her voice filling the room.

“Why do you keep killing for me?” So, the age-old question is finally voiced out loud.

You smile beneath your mask. You consider lying, but it's Wanda.

“Because I can.”

Truth be told, it started when you saw the football jock Vision put his hands on Wanda five years ago at a random Halloween party. After that night it evolved.

It just feels right to kill for the things you love.

You don’t let Wanda query anymore, taking hold of her mask you rip it off, revealing her tear-stained cheeks and scared eyes. You have to resist digging the knife in harder, yet it still digs minuscule more. Just enough for one drop.

A single drop of blood that slides onto your gloved finger.

That is what gets you.

Wanda lets out a squeak as you push her onto the table. Your knife never leaves her pale skin. You straddle her, using your weight against her to keep her compliant. You lean closer to her, wanting her to look at you like she did the night you killed Vision.

Scared, but aroused.

You get what you wish for when your gloved hand drags the tip of your knife down her body until you are hovering over her covered breasts. With your left hand, you clutch the fabric of her gown, cutting it open with the knife held in your right. Wanda whines as she squirms to get away from you.

You laugh at her pathetic little sounds as you forcefully grab her by the chin. You lift your mask, only enough for your mouth to be seen, and you press your lips against Wanda´s quivering ones. She only resists for a moment, then a delectable moan vibrates against you. You return it when you push your tongue into her sweet, hot, mouth. You swirl your tongue around while your hands rip open her outfit. You can feel her bra-clad breasts heavy in your hands. You let the knife slice the bra like butter.

You have to break the kiss to give full attention to the sinful heaven exposed in front of you. Wanda turns her head away from you as she catches her breath, you let her. The only thought occupying your mind is how you can destroy her so sweetly tonight.

You kept yourself at bay for so long, but there is only so much you can do when she whorishly seeks you out. And in such a rude manner too. She was using you to get to, well you, but she didn’t know that. A punishment needs to be set in place; one you will have no regret enforcing.

You settle your mask back in place as you stand and move away from the poor birdy.

She looks up in confusion and disappointment when you go.

You pick up Wanda’s knife and walk over to an armchair nestled in the corner of your den. Wanda struggles to sit up as her chest heaves with each manual breath, uncertain of what you want, as you study her from your corner.

You point her knife towards the open door. “Close it.”

Unsurprisingly, Wanda hesitates before complying. You tsk in disapproval, Wanda moves just a tiny bit faster at the sound.

After it's properly closed you instruct Wanda to lock it using the plank you point out. This time she does it in a timelier manner. You nod your approval as she takes a timid step towards you.

When Wanda tries removing your mask you take ahold of her wrist and bend it until she yelps in pain. The surge of power and arousal that shoots through you almost makes you lose your calm, but you soldier on.

Your gaze remains unfaced as she sniffles in pain. “You don’t get to touch me.” You say as a matter of fact.

“Why not,” tears gleam in the redhead’s eyes as she whines.

“Because only good girls get to touch their Mistress.” Wanda melts at your words. Her knees buckle and her nipples harden. You put the knives between the cushions of the ruff chair. You will need both of your hands for this.

As she stands there you can't help but admire her. She looks just the way you imagined she would. Her frame is perfection, even with her clothes hanging off her and tear stains gleaming on her flushed cheeks. You want to eat her up. But first, her punishment.

You act unbothered as you command her.

“Kneel.” Wanda’s eyes widen as her desperation dampens her underwear.

There is a dull thud as Wanda’s knees connect with the water-damaged wood planks. Biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from singing her praise is needed, but you can’t help it when you automatically pet her hair gently in reward.

You think of all the times you dreamed of holding her like the pet she is. Your palm smoothes her hair down while you mule over how long it's been since you had a good orgasm. When she´s putty beneath you, you grab a fist full of red tresses and roughly pull her closer to your crotch.

Taking the hint Wanda lifts your dark gown and gasps at the lack of underwear. It's cute that she convinced herself you believed the copycat was anyone but her. This punishment has been long in the planning.

You push more intently on her. “Don’t stop now. Be a good whore and mistress may give you a reward.”

You are glad you kept the mask on as you drool looking down at her while she gets to work. She’s so tiny and irrelevant, one calculated squeeze and you can have her begging for her life while she eats you out. The power imbalance is almost enough to make you cum before Wanda can put her talents to use.

When Wanda's hot mouth makes contact with your folds, sucking and teasing you, you have half the mind to tie her down and force her to watch while you fuck yourself with your fingers. However, you can't resist her when she finally sucks your clit into her keen, wet, fuck-hole.

You wonder if she has done this before as it only takes a minute for your eyes to roll into your skull. Jealousy takes hold of you at the thought.

You push the redhead away from yourself, sooner than she can get a word out, you lay her onto her back on the cold floor and straddle her face. Wanda goes to grab your hips, but you force her down. Holding her wrists over her head you instruct her to stay still.

You can’t help but tease her by riding the air just higher than what Wanda's greedy tongue can reach. You drag your body slowly back and forth sensually, making sure to let some breathy moans and groans rile her up.

“I thought I told you to be good.” You tighten the grip around her wrists in warning.

Wanda, who had been slowly trying to lean upward, lowers herself. She is smart enough to act remorseful, you decide to let it go this once. Far more concerned with satisfying your thirst you take your seat right on Wanda’s waiting mouth.

Wanda makes the jealousy easier as she moans loudly into your pussy while pushing her tongue against your hard clit. It's erotic the way Wanda’s hips buck aimlessly while your juices drip down her chin.

The harsh oak makes your knees sting and you can only imagine how Wanda's back must feel. Of course, Wanda is too far gone, she’s moaning and rocking against the air with her eyes closed.

With this small turn of events, your punishment needs an adjustment.

So, you improvise. Originally you were going to make her fuck you until you ran out of cum. However, being on the floor may prove to make that difficult.

The jingle of the whore’s boobs, whilst she tries humping anything she can get between her legs, does give you an idea.

Leaning back you mindlessly search the chair. When your hand connects with the handle of your steel knife you grab on. Keeping it behind your back so as to not let the redhead get a peak. You doubt she can even if she wants to, she’s too deep in your cunt for you to see anything besides her closed eyes and the bead of sweat running down her forehead.

She continues lapping up your wetness like a dog, none the wiser as you debate on wheter or not to hold the knife against her jugular. Reflecting over it, she has been good, so you keep the knife behind you. If only to use it if she misbehaves.

Misbehaving seems to be the last thing on her mind however, she is devouring your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth. When she introduces her nose into the mix, bumping it into your clit while you ride her tongue, white-hot pleasure runs through you. Sounds, you have never heard yourself make, escape before you even think to stop them. Your toes are close to curling and tension tightens in your lower back. Yet you rearrange yourself away from the redhead's hungry mouth, now is not the time.

After Wanda finishes gasping for air that you haven’t allowed her, her eyes fly open at the lack of your taste.

You stand over her. Wanda whines in confusion, but you ignore her in favor of fixing your outfit. Wanda stays in place. All fight left in her evaporated as soon as you touched her. You can’t help but scoff at how easy she is.

She looks like a bitch in heat, panting and twitching as you stand over her with your knife gripped like a phyton.

You tilt your head. The torn rags still holding on by a thread annoy you. “Take your clothes off.”

Wanda's eyes lack any thought as she heeds to your every whim.

She removes the cheap outfit slowly, pushing it off her shoulders and down her waist, over her ass, and past her legs. She removes her ruined bra next, sliding it off each arm and letting it fall into a heap beside her.

You sneer at her disobedience.

“All of it.” You accompany the words with a snap of your fingers.

There is a long silence while the demand sinks into her empty head. Then like lighting, Wanda takes off her soaked underwear.

Wanda trembles as you leisurely walk around her, tapping the knife in a rhythm against your other hand. Completely nude and vulnerable, just how you like her.

You stop in front of Wanda´s open legs. Her body is begging for you to touch her, she is heaving, drooling, desperate. And you have no plan on lessening it.

Ever since you were younger Wanda has always been a particularly touchy person, she needs human touch to function. Without it, she can't do certain things. Like how she refuses to take a walk unless you hold her hand, and how you can see her struggle to get up and shower if you don’t promise cuddles after.

That’s why when you found her little devious plan three months ago you decided the only punishment fit for a sadist like her would be to remove all sense of touch. Deprive her of the one thing she needs to cum, your touch.

You return to your chair. “Touch yourself.”

Wanda swallows thickly as she watches you beneath heavy lids before nodding to herself. You have seen the way Wanda slowly gathers her wetness and spreads it around her libido while her breath turns shallow many times when you silently sneaked into her bedroom, always mindful of what floorboards would give you away. This is different, this time she is doing it for you and only you.

Wanda never breaks eye contact through the black mesh of your mask. It's only when she pinches her clit that her head gets thrown back and a prolonged moan emits from her that she can’t keep her act up. She is close, but if you play your cards right, she won’t be going over.

You dig the knife into the armrest and swirl it back and forth, fiddling like you're bored.

You can sense Wanda studying you from where she sits just a few feet away, but you overlook her.

Wanda, very much, does not like this newfound disinterest you have in her. She speeds up her fingers, moving them clockwise and pressing down hard. Every time she tries to get your attention by moaning louder or trying to press her foot into your boot you tune her out and move away.

Just as you thought, when the redhead’s orgasm approaches, she struggles. Her moans of pleasure turn into whines of frustration, and you don’t even look at her. You keep your focus on the knife. This is where the real punishment starts, one mistake from you and you know she will have no issue falling over the edge and screaming her pleasure for the entire world to hear. No, you will make her suffer if only a little.

After all the running you have had to do tonight you are making sure she will be left breathless and exhausted before an orgasm is in order.

For ten minutes you distract yourself, for ten minutes Wanda balances painfully on the edge of pleasure.

You only take mercy on her when she taps the floor twice.

Raising your eyes you see Wanda with fresh tear tracks running down her cheeks while her fingers work overtime trying to move faster than you have ever seen them move before. You have to hold back a moan at the sight.

You stand slowly, dragging every movement out. Wanda stares wide-eyed and hopeful as she cries from the pain and pleasure. You make your way between spread legs and crouth down to her eye level. You lift her chin with the tip of your knife, and when she stops her movements, you know you have her attention. Without uttering a word, you remove your mask with your unoccupied hand.

As soon as your face is free of its confinement and Wanda sees you in all your mad beauty since she entered your chosen playing field for the night, a moan so deep and gurtal leaves her dumbfounded. While she is distracted by the new sound she can make you hold eye contact and leave the knife in place, but without looking you reach down and pinch her neglected clit so hard she screams.

She comes so hard she sees stars for minutes after you stroke her through her aftershocks.

When she gets back to herself you are laying on top of her and petting her sides. She doesn't even realize she is crying until you carefully wipe her tears away while praising her. “There you go, baby.”

“It's okay, you did so well.”

“Mistress is very proud of you.”

“Just breathe for me, honey.” “That’s it honey, good job.” You pet her while she gathers herself under you.

She came for a full three minutes before she passed out. As worried as you were in the moment you have to admit you are a little proud of yourself. That is definitely the hardest you have ever seen her cum.

After a while, you can hear her mumble something.

“What’s that baby?”

Wanda, in a surprising turn of events, locks you against her chest and flips you both. You blink up at her as she giggles from your tense reaction.

“Sorry,” you watch her giggle to herself and you know for a fact she is not sorry, “I couldn’t help it, you just look so cute when you are surprised.”

You grin with her but you also grab the knife beside you and lift it to her neck. She quickly stops laughing, but she isn’t scared. Not anymore.

“Behave, don’t forget who´s in charge here.” You fix her with a stern glance.

Wanda deflates a little, but her hands never leave you. She trails her hands up and down your body, groping everything she can. You dig the knife deep enough to where she has to stay still if she wants to keep her vocal cords.

Wanda mewls, “please.”

You roll your eyes at her. “Please what?”

“Please can I touch you, Mistress?”

You smirk, “You are touching me.” The disappointment rolls off of Wanda, but she knows what she needs to do.

Not wanting to actually hurt the redhead you had loosened your pressure without realizing it, Wanda uses that to her advantage. The deviant redhead swiftly moves your hand out of her way to attack your mouth with a round of kisses. She then pushes her tongue in, and swirls it teasingly around yours. You moan into her as she grinds her leg against your covered clit.

You let this go until you need her inside you.

You pull her off you and grab her neck. You tighten until she wheezes then you speak.

“If you ever disobey me like this again I will tie you down with a vibrator and leave you like that for hours. Do you understand me?” The redhead nods as best as she can.

You let go of her neck only to grab her hair again. You stand, dragging her with you. “Sit.” You point at the chair as you let go.

Wanda obediently listens without defiance this time.

“You are lucky,” you tell her as you straddle her thighs. “if I wasn’t in the mood for an orgasm I would have you over my knee now. You grind into her lap as you speak. This time when Wanda goes to grab you, you let her.

Wanda controls your hips as you pound yourself into her lap. She is more than eager to comply when you command her to put a finger in.

You ride her until you can't take it anymore and reach down to draw tight circles over your forgotten clit.

You cum so fast it almost gives you whiplash. Wanda moans with you as clear liquid coats her hand.

You both fall into an exhausted pile of post-orgasm bliss as you settle. Wanda cuddles into you and you lean your chin atop her head. She nuzzles into your neck and sighs with satisfaction.

You are half-dosing when a giggle abrupts from the girl in your arms. You look down at her with a confused tilt to your head. Wanda is already grinning up at you.

“Same time next year?” You laugh at your girlfriend of six years and nod while kissing her sweaty forehead.

“Same time next year.”

(Oh sorry, forgot a tag: Role-play)

#dark!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #ghostface #dark!reader x wanda maximoff #fem!reader

[lvrcpid]

𝙨𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧 - 𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙮

paring: ethanxfem!reader.

warnings: implication of murder. blood. ethan being the worst best person on the planet. manipulation. character death. spoilers!!

listen: smooth operator by sade

notes: your honor he’s innocent!!

‘congratulations you’ve been accepted to blackmore university’. the letter in your hand reads. you couldn’t help but smile a bit. you were finally getting out of woodsboro. you wanted nothing to do with this hell hole anymore.

being almost brutally murdered by one of your closest friends was definitely not on your bucket list. but hey you couldn’t complain, at least you made it out alive.

similar to tara, you didn’t really like to acknowledge what happened to you back home. you wanted to forget about everything. but the feeling you were being watched never left you.

for weeks on end after, you suffered from panic attacks. you refused to be alone, afraid that phone would ring and in one clean sweep, your life would be over. you’d be damned if you faced the same fate as your foes.

you moved into your apartment with tara and sam, along with your roommate quinn, on campus not long after that, mindy and chad also attending the same school. you were glad your friends were there not only just for you, but for each other. you all had been through a lot together, instantly turning you all from a group, into a family.

you were sat in tara’s room as she hung her clothes in her closet, the comfortable silence filling the air as you spoke “do you think it’s over?” tara didn’t say anything as she stopped what she was doing, gripping onto the shirt in her hand. she just sighed and looked at you, shrugging and moving to sit down next to you. “that’s behind us and you know it..” she tried her hardest to empathize with you but tara hated living in the past of what happened to you all.

you couldn’t help but disagree, the fact you did showed in your expression. while she was right, you didn’t like the fact your friend was so okay with pushing down what happened to her. you cut the conversation short , not wanting to egg her on, squeezing her into a hug and sighing. “we’re safe now, we can live our lives normally.”

but oh were you so wrong.

you met ethan shortly after you moved to new york. you were walking to your debate ethics class when you bumped into someone, quickly pulling your headphone off to apologize.

‘oh im sorry-‘ ‘no it’s okay im sorry!’ you turned to meet the person you bumped into. you were met with a boy slightly taller than you, fluffy hair and the cutest face. ‘i-i’m ethan! sorry about that..i should’ve watched where i was going..’ his face turned red as he scratched the back of his head.

you found the boy cute. he reminded you of a puppy. you couldn’t help but chuckle at his words. ‘no really it’s okay, it was my fault. i’m (y/n)’ you held your hand out, watching as he hesitantly shook it.

ew. his palms were sweaty. but aw, he was nervous.

from that point on you and ethan became inseparable. you both constantly went out to movies and cafes. he even came over for study time at your apartment! you really liked ethan and all of your friends could tell he really liked you too.

it was a random night in october, the wind was chilly and the leaves scraped across the ground like nails on a chalk board. sam and tara were out shopping and quinn was over at some boys dorm. you seriously couldn’t keep up with that girl.

your roommates absences left you alone in the apartment. that same feeling of being watched crept up on you slowly as the wind blew more and more through the open window in the living room.

you sucked your teeth as you pushed yourself from the couch, going to shut the window. as you looked outside you swore you could’ve seen the frame of a black cloak disappear into the distance. your blood ran cold as you just shut the window and locked it. “nope nope nope fuck that-“ *RING RING RING* your phone rang, vibrating on the table.

shit. you stalked over to the table where your phone sat, your heart practically beating out of your chest. you knew better than to answer the phone, so you just let it ring, not even going to check who it was. you didn’t even want to know.

you sighed as the ringing stopped, just for it to pick up once more. you mumbled slightly before picking up the phone, seeing it was richies contact. how is that even possible? richie died. you just held the phone to your ear as you spoke, “hello?” “hello (y/n)..miss me?” you could’ve passed out right then and there. that same voice that tormented you and your friends for days was back. you just stomped to the knife block as you spoke once more.

“i fucked you up once , im not afraid to do it again..” you grabbed the largest knife you could, power walking your way through the apartment. “relax sweet thing..i’m not at your place..i just wanna..talk..” you just rolled your eyes at the name and gripped your phone tightly in your hand. “listen you sick piece of shit, leave me and my friends alone or else i’ll-“ “or else you’ll what? kill me and run away like a coward?! now shut up and listen.” you went silent, not really believing his words about not being in your apartment.

“you know you’re really pretty right..? i’m always watching you..always..” the voice calls, chuckling and sighing as you were horrified. your theory was correct. “god what i wouldn’t give to see you scream for me” you could hear that asshole smirk over the phone. you just scoffed and gripped the knife tighter, making your way through your apartment for the second time, really making sure he wasn’t playing tricks on you. “who the hell even are you..” you asked, pushing open a door and making your way through it.

“ah ah ah- we’ll save that for our next conversation..until then pretty girl..also..chilly night we’re having isn’t it?” then the line went dead. you quickly moved to call sam, shakily dialing her number as you paced the floor, biting your thumb as you tried your best not to cry.

when the sisters bursted into the door, you immediately broke down in tears, crying into sam’s shoulder as she brought you into a hug. you looked to tara as she gave you a sad, worried, almost terrified look. “tara..ignore everything i said..”

this isn’t over.

the next day you were on edge, hesitant to even step foot out of your dorm. you laid in bed , staring at your ceiling fan as it spun around, trying to distract yourself from what happened the previous night.

the only noise that can be heard was the sound of your fan and your jagged breathing. suddenly your phone rang, again. you quickly turned over to silence it, trying to forget that it’s even there. but seeing richies contact and picture pop up was enough to send chills down your spine.

you took a deep breath before answering the phone. “calling me in broad daylight? you’re getting bolder by the second” you spoke into the phone. “relax pretty girl, i just wanna talk to you” the raspy voice came back to you. you just huffed and rolled your eyes. “we aren’t leisurely friends. you’re actively trying to kill me and mine.”

“be happy i’m taking the time to speak to you instead of killing your friends one by one.”

you just huffed as you got out of bed. “what the hell do you even want?!” you’re growing frustrated. why is this killer talking to you like you both are friends. “i missed hearing your voice beautiful. it’s not often i come across a girl as pretty as you. it makes me wanna hurt you even more”

you turned your face up in disgust. is this fucker really flirting with you right now. “are you fucking serious-“ “i’d also be careful about sam and all..i heard that serial killer stuff..runs in the family. who knows, maybe one day she’ll snap and kill you all.” the voice chuckles.

sam? never sam, she doesn’t want to be like her father. “sam would never-“ “don’t bank on it.” then the line went dead.

this went on for days. the same person calling, taunting you, feeding you information that seemed believable after a while.

maybe sam really was setting you up. maybe she really did want to kill you.

you found yourself finding comfort in a killer. even waiting and anticipating their calls.

you didn’t know if what you were feeling was right or utterly wrong. so you brought it up to ethan.

the boy was laying on your chest, as he always did when he came over to your dorm. you ran a hand through his hair as you spoke. “ethan can i trust you with something?”

the boy looked up at you and hummed in response. “is it bad that i’m attracted to a killer?” you expected the boy to have a greater reaction than the shrug he gave you. “i mean if you’re into that sort of thing-“ “ethan stop i’m serious” you sat up, looking at him.

“i genuinely think sam is out to get all of us, you included” the boy just sighed and pulled you into his arms. his reactions were concerning you. how was he so calm?

you looked up to ethan and noticed the look he was giving you. it sent chills down your spine. he looked like he wanted to strangle you. you scanned his face quickly before snapping your fingers in front of his face, breaking him out of whatever look he was giving you. “ethan..you okay?” you asked, looking at him. the boy just looks down and nods.

“mindy it’s strange- the killer is here he just hasn’t done anything-“ “woah woah woah run that back- you’ve been talking to the killer, the one who tried to murder ALL of us last year, he hasn’t attacked you- and you’ve grown fond of him? (y/n) what the hell” mindy crossed her arms, a disappointed look across her face. “i don’t know if it’s a him or her- mindy i don’t know okay! and ethan was acting really strange when i told him about it..”

mindy scrunched her face up as she looked at you. “ethan..he’s at the top of my list! i’ve always suspected he was the killer!”

“woah woah woah mindy, it can’t be ethan! ethan’s too sweet for all of that- plus-“ “remember what i said? never trust the love interest”

later that night anika was murdered. she fell from the ladder that stretches from across your apartment to sam’s boyfriends danny’s apartment.

and she was right. never trust the love interest.

you stood beside tara, your mouth dropping in pure horror as ethan revealed himself as the second ghostface killer.

“ethan..” you breathed out, tears streaming down your cheeks.

ethan just gave you a look of fake sympathy before laughing. “god (y/n)! you made it so easy! for me” he pointed the knife in your direction. “a few phone calls, a bit of sweet talking and i had you wrapped around my finger! just like that!”

your swear your heart stopped. it was ethan this whole time. “no..no no no..” “yes..believe it pretty girl”

your world was spinning in two. the boy you were slowly falling in love with was a killer the whole time.

you didn’t have time to think before ethan charged at you with his knife, slicing a deep slash in your arm. you let out a loud scream as you quickly applied pressure to the wound, the thick metallic smell filling your nose. a smell you were familiar with.

you quickly ran away as ethan chased you down, somehow dodging his many attempts to stab you.

as you stood in front of him, near the brink of sobbing, blood coating your arm and hand, you asked; “why- i thought you liked me-“ “liked you?! no no no pretty girl. you got it all wrong..i never liked you..i liked the idea of you. guess you can say i played the part well. the sweet boy next door. the lover you can cry to? god you’re so pathetic” ethan just laughs.

you felt your heart breaking into two as he continued

“falling for a killer over the phone! who knew it would be so easy..gaining your trust so easy..making you doubt sam- it’s perfect” ethan lunged at you, tackling you down to the floor, easily taking you down and raising his knife above your heart. “it’s a shame i gotta kill you, because you’re so pretty” ethan grinned, moving to lower the knife but stopping.

you watched as blood began to pool at his mouth, his body shaking like a leaf as he dropped the knife, his body falling over yours.

holy shit. ethan landry was dead.

you quickly pushed him off of you and scurried away, looking to see who was behind him.

it was sam, her fathers knife in her hand. you blinked at sam as she stalked towards you, knife still in her hand. maybe this really was the end. you were surprised to see her hand extended towards you, a small smile on her face.

okay so sam didn’t wanna kill you. fantastic.

you walked out with sam to meet tara. you looked to the side to see detective bailey, dead. that was new.

you cringed at the sight before sitting down next to them, your body aching.

“so it was ethan the whole time huh?” tara turned to you. you just nodded and leaned back. “yeah..he sure knew how to sweet talk a girl.”

the three of you just laughed, pushing yourselves up and leaving the theater, the light from outside was almost blinding.

your brain flashed back to that night in the apartment. it was ethan the whole time. he murdered anika, and tried to kill you too. sick bastard shook her to her death. why kick a girl when she’s already down? the image of her bloody body hitting the cold, hard ground still engraved in your mind.

you just squinted as you let out a sad sigh. never would you have guessed it was ethan behind this. never in a million years. but once again luck was on your side.

you made it out alive.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry scream #ethan landry scream vi #scream vi #scream x reader #scream #jack champion #jack champion x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n

[mvltisstuff]

so sorry to bother you! how’s summer going so far?

could i request a buck x reader inspired by the song “what was i made for?”, like in particular the lines “im sad again, don’t tell my boyfriend, its not what he’s made for”. i’m struggling with some stuff and this song bring me comfort, i thought that maybe you could combine the two things that make my day less heavy.

if not its completely fine! thank you anyway🫶🏻

what was i made for - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @housewifebuck <3

a/n: my summers been going well, thank you for asking! i hope your summer is going beautifully, and i hope august brings you the best! the barbie movie actually touched my heart so bad… i hate you greta gerwig (i love you thank you for barbie and little women pls never stop making movies) i kind of made this as my interpretation of the song, but i hope you feel connected to this as well <3 i’m not too sure how i feel about this yet, but i wanted to get something out for you.

bucks filled with glory every day. he walks into a room with a bright smile on his face, making everyone feel safe and loved. y/n loves his lovely grin, savoring every minute she can get with him. the moment she met him on shift, she knew that he was someone incredible.

she works at another station near the 118, and she also lives with buck in his apartment. missing him everyday, she comes home into his arms and everything goes away. he seems so calm, and she doesn’t understand how he does it. all he’s been through, and all he sees on the daily. it’s starting to feel like she could crumble up at work, and it’s formed a new branch of displeasure in her life.

when y/n got her new placement in california, she thought the station would be more of a warm welcome. when she walked in, the masculine energy was almost overwhelming. she didn’t want to get her hopes up, maybe it won’t be that bad after all.

the small comments were what did it. their humbling chuckles afterwards were the cherry on top. they weren’t outright degrading her for her gender, but the hints of misogyny peeked their way through.

it made every single day hell, her not getting to work to her fullest and being held down by the other firemen. she fought to get into the academy, and she worked her ass off every day. she’s as good, if not better, as everyone here, but they’re too blind with ignorance to see it. the worst part is that they seem like genuine people to everyone else. y/n felt like she had to fight to get a grain of respect, but the rest of her team accepts everyone else effortlessly.

she never once thought about this as a teenager, thinking about her dream job. she never imagined that she’d be tied down with ropes over something she could not control. y/n longed for that naivety again. when she could go about her life, not worrying about what anyone else thought. she wore her clothes however she wanted, and it stopped too early. she watched the men around her, and slowly realized that they’re not her friends. reality set in and took its course, slowing her down with the weight of society. she just wishes it could go back to the way it was when she was young and uneducated, and she never realized how quickly it ended.

she doesn’t say a word to buck about her days. she replies with a single word and she lets her boyfriend talk about his day. she’s sure it’s better than his, and there’s a part of her that envies him. their line of work isn’t easy for anyone, but somehow, it looked much easier on her boyfriend than it did for her.

firefighting once was her dream, her passion. now, it was her burden, her chore.

y/n didn’t want to fall into the stereotype of the ‘weak’ women who couldn’t handle the pressure. she stayed, letting herself fall behind as the others moved ahead. every single day was exhausting, and she wondered why she ever was told the saying, ‘you were born to do this’.

the days became monotonous, the same bullshit every day at work and then going home to sleep. it’s insane how words can hurt more than anything else, as they stole more of her energy with every remark and joke. she tried so hard not to let it get to her, but it just wore her out. was it really worth it if she was being treated like this?

buck noticed the changes in her attitude whenever they were to meet up again. he didn’t want to bother her, so he never mentioned it. he was so scared to make it worse. he’s gotten too much backlash from trying to make things better, so he tries to keep more to himself.

it became more visible to him the pain y/n had. she looked disappointed every morning, any mention of work, her face dropped. he never heard good things about where she worked, but he didn’t question it too much.

the five-alarm fire was the day buck finally pieces together the puzzle. he crossed paths with her, stopping to see her as the fire was settling down and was now under control. he had just ran back out, throwing his gear onto the engine and moving over to y/n.

“y/n!” he beams, seeing a corner of her mouth creep up. he was the sunshine in her dreary days, and she couldn’t help but feel a little hope when she saw him. it wasn’t enough of a cover for buck not to notice though. “how are you doing tonight? i think i’m off after this, if you wanna get drinks before going home?”

y/n wants to agree, to see her real friends at the 118, but she has a premonition that she’ll be exhausted anyway.

“sorry, buck,” she sighs. “i’m kind of tired already, and i just wanted to go home tonight.”

“that’s ok,” he tells her, still off about her mood. “hey, you know you can talk to me, right?”

“yeah, why?”

“i just feel like somethings wrong. i don’t want to make you upset but i don’t want you to be hurting alone.”

“i’m not hurting, buck,” she says through laughs, but he sees right through it.

“hey, what’s goi-“

“y/l/n!” her captain yells out. “did you get those files from earlier about the last five alarm?”

“not yet, sir,” she turns. “i was out on a call. i asked derosa to grab them for me before i left.”

her captain turns to face him, who just shrugs and comes up with an excuse. “sorry, cap, i forgot about getting those.”

“don’t worry about it,” he groans. “i told you to get those asap, what have you been doing?”

“i’ve been working, cap,” she replies back to him. it’s a clear answer, no lies or attitude.

“i don’t need the sass, y/l/n,” he sighs, looking down at her. she’s done what she’s asked, she’s saved lives and somehow it’s not enough. “i’ll be expecting those when we get back.”

he walks away, boots stomping and crunching on the cement beneath him. y/n turns back around to buck. “i guess i’ll be in a little after than you.”

“but didn’t the other guy forge-“

“buck, stop,” she tells him. “it’s nothing to worry about.”

“no, it matters to me if they’re not treating you right.”

“i’m being treated fine,”

“he just rolled his eyes at you and let the guys mock you. if derosa said the same thing, he’d be moving on,” buck throws one of his hands up, increasing y/n’s anxiety as he gets more and more upset. he can see it now, what’s been going on. he doesn’t see another woman with the same number on her helmet. y/n tries to deescalate the matter, but buck only wants to persevere and help. he knows he can, and he’s confused why she doesn’t want him too.

“i know what you want to do, but trust me, it only makes things worse. they don’t need to see my boyfriend defending me, it’s just another thing they can throw at me.”

“y/n, please-“

“no, buck!” her voice grows in volume, making her team look at her more. “just… i’ll see you at home, ok?”

he can see the slight shine in her eyes and she shakiness in her hands. he knows she gets like this when she’s anxious, and he feels even worse. he never, ever wanted to make it harder on her, and he can sense that he might’ve. when y/n turns to walk back to her engine, he overhears the little comments again.

“c’mon, y/l/n!” one of the men teases. “do you need a shoulder to cry on, sweetheart?”

“a smile would look nice on you,” another says. buck has no clue what to do. he knows anything he does will just fall onto her lap. he curses that it’s this way, but he knows he has to try and make a change.

he gets settled at home, the late hours of the night settling in. he’d been home for a while, y/n walking in with a folder in her hands and a weakened expression on her face. he stand up instantly, walking over to her and taking her bag to set it down. he lets the silence fill for a moment before speaking again.

“why didn’t you tell me they were like this?”

“you wouldn’t get it, buck.”

“i know that i don’t, but i want to hear you,” he tries to get her to open up, wanting so badly to comfort her through this. the reminders only aggravate her, and she feels guilty for feeling this way toward buck. he’s never done anything wrong, but she feels like everything is on her right now.

“fine,” she drops her phone down on the counter as he sits on one of the barstools. “that’s not even the worst they’ve said. i get shit like that every single day because they’re threatened by me. i have been getting through all my testing to get the hell out of there because it never stops. how i work, how i clean, how i look, if i wear make-up to work, i’m trying too hard, if i don’t wear any, i don’t look professional enough. if i try and intervene to give them the best option, i’m abrasive and bossy. if i don’t say anything, i’m submissive and that’s exactly what they want! i am nothing but a decoration for them. i am treated like a probie when i have probably been working twice as hard to get to where they are. maybe, if i had a dick, they’d say im a hard worker and i’d be praised, but im just a woman. and there is nothing anyone can do about it.”

buck looks into her eyes, seeing them fill with self-pity and hopelessness. he sees the tiredness in her eyes, his heart breaking even more. he fumbled with his fingers, not sure of what to say. “so, i have to help myself. on my own, buck. or the loop will start all over again.”

“i- um, i don’t-,” he mumbles, not really knowing what to say. “im so, so sorry, y/n.”

“you don’t have to be sorry, love,” she says. “i love you more than anything, but i never knew how sick i could get of men being this way.”

buck stands, walking over to her and taking her hands in his. “i want to help you. i’ll never understand what this feels like, but you have to know that i’m here for you.”

“i know, buck,” she smiles a little, starting to disintegrate the pain in her face. “i just didn’t know this was a competition.”

the night moves on, nothing at work changing despite bucks efforts. he texted his whole team, ranting and complaining and being taken aback by the way his sister and hen said, “that’s just how it is sometimes.” y/n pushes through the next few weeks, as well as cramming in any exams she has to move up and out of this station that can’t handle her.

when she’s alerted about a new position at the 118 from a retired firefighter, she knows what she has to do. she knows what she’ll say, but she knows the truth. she is worth more than any of what those men might say to her.

the last shift she has, she packs up her things as everyone leaves their usual stuff in. she has an extra bag, stuffing her belongings that she usually leaves there. “you finally fleeing, y/l/n?” her coworker says, gaining laughs from the rest of the men in the locker rooms.

“they all do, eventually.”

“actually, i got a job somewhere else,” she grins, looking down at them, watching them slip their shoes on as she stands up. they barely look at her, not a care in the world that she’s leaving. she’s reminded of the rankings at the 118, and how all of these firefighters would kill to be working at the highest station around.

“where, dispatch?” one jokes.

“the new lieutenant spot at the 118 is mine,” she tells them, turning heads as she picked up the rest of her stuff and started to head out the door. y/n can sense the jealousy on each of them creeping up. she peeks her head in one last time. “have fun here, firemen.”

as she drives home, she knows she has buck waiting for her. when she walks in, she knows she won. she has one of the highest spots in the city and the most loving man in her arms. buck noticed the change in her, seeing her at work finally content in a workplace free of scrutiny. she feels whole again, knowing that she’s wanted and appreciated here. it’s a family now, and it’s everything she’s wanted.

when buck sees that bright smile that he missed dearly walk back in the front door, he knows that he’s won.

#911 #911onfox #bobby nash #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buckley fanfic #athena grant #henrietta wilson #evan buckley x reader #evan buck buckley x reader #maddie buckley #may grant #chimney 911 #howard han #evan buckley 911 #911 fic #911 show #911 chimney #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley fluff #evan buck buckely #evan buckley angst #evan buckley fanfiction #evan buckley one shot #evan buckley fic #evan buckley x you

[justlikemebutsixfootthree]

direction -

pairing:  matty healy x f!reader

content: fingering, unprotected sex, matty can't shut the fuck up™, overstim

wordcount: 3743

this blog is 18+. minors, do not interact. this blog is a safe space. no hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated. all work is my own. do not reupload my work on any other site without my consent.

a/n: the people have spoken

your motto has always been "fake it till you make it". what started as something you'd say to yourself to get over anxieties slowly bled into other areas of your life, relationships included.

fake confidence until you have it. fake experience until you get some.

easy, right?

well, over time, you've become a pro faker. people rarely approach you cause they think you're arrogant.

and that suits you. who has time for superficial relationships anyways?

but then you met matty, who's gentle, kind, funny, smart. he never gave up on you, even if you sometimes came off as stand-offish, even if you acted like you were too good for him and men in general, even if you fought him every step of the way, surprised by his determination.

in the beginning, you played along. you let him try to woo you, let him compliment you and take you out. you responded to all of his texts, even if you are both too old to be texting like high schoolers. slowly but surely, he made you drop the façade, at least around him, which is when your relationship became more than just teasing glances and flirty texts.

everything led up to where you are now: in matty's stupidly comfortable bed, wearing his stupidly warm sweater, kissing his stupidly pretty face.

the movie he had put on was some cheesy horror flick: lots of fake blood, shitty special effects, and a naive main character. it's long forgotten though, mediocre soundtrack serving as background noise to a much more exciting activity.

you've always prided yourself on how strong you were, not being easily swayed by your sexual urges. fake it until you make it - but what then?

what if matty expects you to rock his world tonight? what if he thinks you'll take the lead, with the same (fake) confidence you do everything else? 

technically, you know how it should all work, but you have no first-hand experience. your sexual endeavours end pretty fast, either with you giving up on the guy or them thinking you're too demanding for someone who isn't putting out. either way, it’s good riddance, and you’ve never had regrets about not having sex before. 

once, during your intense college years, you had to present your research in front of all your peers. the stress caused you to lose sleep, and you replaced eating with frantic rewriting. by the time the due date rolled around, your brain was scrambled, and you were positive you were going to puke all over the front row of desks.

now, underneath the warm weight of your boyfriend, you’re feeling exactly the same way. what if you manage to do something so revoltingly off-putting he can never look at you again?

"hey."

matty's soft voice shocks you out of your quickly spiralling head. he's looking down at you with gentle, but confused, eyes.

"you've gone all stiff on me, love. you feelin' okay?"

you should've known he'd see through your wall of false confidence.

"y'know we don't have to do anything, right? you look like you're about to cry."

you refuse to dignify that with a response as heat floods your face and, mortifyingly, prickles in your sinuses. he sighs, rolling off of you and laying on his side, facing you.

“that was meant to make you laugh.”

you try to smile at him and feel your lips wobble instead.

“hey. i'm being serious, what’s going on in there?” he brings his hand up, stroking his fingers through your hair.

“i don’t want to repulse you,” you whisper.

he frowns. "you've got a horrific confidence problem. there is nothing, and i mean nothing, repulsive about you. and besides, i've already seen you at your grossest. remember when you got mono and your neck was all swollen?"

you glower at him. “yeah, and i caught it from you! that makes me feel so much better.”

shaking his head, his next words are insistent. 

“i mean it. did you know, that every time we go out, someone tells me how lucky i am? c'mon, darling, you know i wouldn't be saying this shit if it wasn't true.”

“i know, and i want to, but fuck, matty it's going to be so bad.”

“well yeah, with that attitude it will. we’re gonna figure out what you like, but only if you want to.”

his eyes are soft, looking down at you with unguarded warmth. 

clearing your throat, you fidget nervously with the edge of your (his) sweater.

“so. how - um - how do you want to...?”

he grins crookedly. “move to the middle of the bed.”

swallowing hard, you follow his instructions, legs splayed flat out in front of you as you lean back on your elbows, staring at him expectantly.

“this is about you, okay? whatever you want to do, we can do. including nothing, if it doesn’t feel right.”

your voice is barely more than a whisper. “want you to touch me.”

you could swear you hear a little hitch in his breath, and mustering all the courage you have, you meet his gaze. his mouth is slightly open, the curved bow of his upper lip revealing the edges of his white teeth, and you watch as he presses his lips closed, nodding.

"okay. you gotta talk to me, yeah? tell me if you want me to stop, if something feels good, or if you want more. deal?”

“deal,” you breathe back.

he moves, bending his head to press his mouth on the side of your neck. something splinters hot down the centre of your body, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s desire, pure and hard, crystalline. you can already feel slick warmth in your underwear, and you haven’t even started.

“oh,” you gasp, the round syllable small in your mouth, and he lowers his hand, smoothing down the bunched fabric of your (his) sweater, following the swell of your hip, moving slowly so you have time to breathe.

“good?” he murmurs, and you nod dumbly.

he inches lower, hand flat on your leg, fingers resting just a hairsbreadth from your centre. matty drags his hand lightly along the inside of your thigh, opening his mouth on your neck, tongue hot as he presses it to the softness of your skin.

“how ‘bout now?”

“mhm,” you manage.

unbearably careful, he brushes the tip of his index finger along the seam of your pants, the pressure light, but precise, right against the place you’re most sensitive. your left leg jerks as though you’ve been shocked, and he freezes his hand there, lips sealing around your neck, holding you until you stop twitching with alarm.

you can already feel a steady pooling in your underwear, and you shift uncomfortably against him, unsure if you’re doing it to relieve the ache between your legs or to increase the friction against you.

still moving with absolute restraint, he presses down, a slow, controlled line directly down the centre of your cunt. the tension in every single joint is making you shake, muscles burning with the effort of holding still, and you swear you feel something crack as he eases his touch up to rest at the waistband of your pants, before sliding his hand underneath.

“you still with me?" he murmurs and you can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe.

his callused fingers are resting just above your pussy, palm lightly pressed to the rise of your mound, and he lifts his lips to graze your ear.

“you gotta talk to me,” he reminds you.

you shudder, releasing your held breath, shoulders sore from the stiffness of your body. 

“yes. yes, i’m - it’s good, please don’t stop.”

he opens his hand, letting his middle finger drag slowly between your folds, and you feel it at the same moment he does; you’re soaked.

so unbelievably wet it feels like something’s gone wrong and you want to shut your legs and crawl away from him. your skin is prickling with heat as you feel a slow line of sweat roll down the back of your leg, making you squirm, desperate to shuck your skin.

“oh, baby..." he breathes, the edges of his teeth scraping your earlobe. “you’re soaked.”

clenching your eyes shut, your is voice petulant as you murmur back to him.

“i can’t help it, i don’t know why, it’s not my fault. i -"

“shush. it’s so fucking hot. you’re so reactive,” he says, voice gravelly. he slides a second finger to join the first, parting them and spreading your folds. even through the fabric of your pants, you can both hear the slick sound and you want to die; burrow into a hole somewhere and never come out. as though sensing your squirming agony, he chooses that moment to ease both fingers inside you, and your heart stops in your chest at the slow stretch.

this is matty. your matty. and right now his fingers are inside you, stretching you open.

the thought alone is enough to make your entire body throb with a sudden, overpowering pulse and you feel yourself clench around him unconsciously. he groans into your ear.

“you’re so tight. shit, you feel perfect. does that feel good?”

you can’t speak, nodding helplessly against him. he withdraws a couple of centimetres, easing back inside slower but deeper than before, hooking his fingers slightly inside you. your hips flex against his touch, trying to encourage him to keep moving as he rolls his thumb over your clit, and you see stars.

matty's touch feels as confident as the way he performs; like he was born to do this; like he could do it in his sleep.

he drags his fingers inside you, and your pelvis lifts unconsciously to follow his movements, trying to chase the feeling.

“you’re doing so good, baby. you're so pretty, so fucking hot. y'gonna come for me, love?”

despite the intensity of the sensations between your legs, it’s his words that tip you over the edge. you bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying to contain the high-pitched groan as your muscles clamp around his fingers, cunt fluttering. You feel your warmth coating his fingers, and he rides you through it, his movements only easing to a stop once your body has relaxed into a melted heap draped over him.

slowly, he withdraws his fingers from your pants, sliding out from underneath you and lowering your malleable, floppy limbs onto the bed. you watch him drunkenly as he sits up in front of you on his knees, gaze snagging on his hand.

you’re mortified at the sight of the clear viscous fluid stretching between his parted fingers, and you just about die of embarrassment as he brings his hand to his lips, sliding them into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“perfect. you’re perfect,” he tells you, and you want to cover your face, but you’re pinned there, watching. his pants are tented tellingly in the front, and you’re trying not to make it obvious but you can’t tear your gaze away. 

“told you. nothing wrong with you,” he informs you, grinning.

“i’m gonna take your pants off,” he says, and you lift your hips helpfully, earning a little twist from his lips at your enthusiasm. sliding your legs free, he settles on his knees. your eyes are drawn back helplessly to the bulge in his pants, and he catches you looking.

“matty, i want - want you to...”

“what, love? c'mon, talk to me.” he crawls up over you, braced on his hands and knees, leaning down.

“fuck me.”

he raises an eyebrow. “you need a break first?”

in response, you lift your hips to press against the hard outline of his straining cock. he ducks his head, leaning his weight up on one arm as he kicks his pants down and you watch the muscles in his shoulder work through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“i’m gonna fuck you so good, baby. you want that?”

“yeah,” you whisper. “yes, do it, please.” 

“do what?” matty asks with a wry smile. he’s propped up on one elbow now, gazing down into your raw, open face. “c’mon, you've got to say it for me, angel.”

you let out a shaky sigh, a hand sliding down to the back of matty's neck. you pull him close, so your lips brush. “please fuck me. need you so bad.”

matty's eyes flutter closed for a moment. he breathes out hard, then leans away, and sits up. he's struggling with getting his pants all the way off, so you help the best you can, feeling fluttery and strange, in a feverish trance of pleasure, dumb with anticipation for more.

“please,” you mutter, “please, come on, i want it-”

“fuck, fuck, okay…” matty says, chuckling. “you gotta take it easy with the begging, sweetheart. i’m already putting everything i have into not coming the second i get inside you.” 

flushing, you brush the stray curls from matty's face. "you said you'd make it good. so shut up, and fuck me already."

"there’s my favourite brat,” matty says with a grin, then he’s holding himself at your entrance, easing in slowly, a hand on your waist. 

he’s big. you have a moment of panic at the stretch, and you gasp, hands flying up to grasp at his forearms as though you could somehow control the movement of his hips that way.

his teeth are pressed to his lip, eyes shut, and you wonder exactly how tight it is for him as he shudders through an exhalation. he forces his eyes open to look down at you, concern evident, checking up on you even as his arms shake with the effort of holding still.

“oh, sh - shit. you good?”

nodding, you release your own held breath with a shudder, your entire body trembling violently underneath him, thighs aching from how tightly wound your muscles are. he sinks down another inch and you both hiss in synchrony, your fingers tightening around his arms just as his tighten around your waist.

“you’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he’s breathing, the fullness unbearable. you arch your neck to look down at where you’re split open around him, the sight enough to make your breath hitch in your chest. he looks down in time to see your eyes widen, and he follows your gaze, his strangled intake of breath following.

“you see that? see how perfect you are? fuck, you’re so beautiful, you’re so tight, you feel incredible...” 

you press your lips to his, stopping his unhinged babbling. you’re trying your hardest just to concentrate on taking his thick cock, breathing through the desperate ache as he slowly forces you open. he parts his lips against yours and you press your tongue against him, seeking more. his groaning response makes him slip, losing control for one second, just long enough to let him sink the rest of the way inside you. he’s trying to break from your lips, but you don’t want to listen to whatever it is he’s about to say, so you gently bite down on his lower lip, holding him captive. his hips flex helplessly into you as he tries to talk again, and despite your breathlessness, you could almost laugh at the fact that even now, typically; matty healy just cannot shut the fuck up.

the agonizing, all-encompassing stretch is slowly easing into something else; something bright and hard, sending skittering shockwaves up through your stomach. experimentally you flatten your feet on the bed under you, using the leverage to push your hips up and—shit, it’s too much, too full, you can’t possibly take any more of him but then right there, the angle shifts, and something snaps in your brain.

you wrench your head back, keening as you try to grind up into that spot, that fucking spot. matty's eyes are unfocused, his expression pained.

“baby, wait, wait a sec,” and you can’t help but roll yourself against him again, making him choke.

“what’s wrong?” you breathe back, unable to keep still, your legs trembling with the effort of holding yourself up against him.

“is this...not good?” you ask, suddenly small.

he doesn’t answer right away, and you watch as sweat beads on his upper lip, his eyes still squeezed shut.

“matty?” you try again and he makes a strangled sound, eyes snapping open to pin you down.

“say my name again,” and you barely shape your lips around it before he’s hissing, driving his hips down to smack hard into yours, knocking the breath from your lungs. 

“d’yknow how - how many times i’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this?” he punctuates his words with short, hard thrusts. “you’re fucking perfect. your pussy's, fuck - fucking perfect.”

your face erupts with heat at his words. he catches you flinching and his eyes light, grinning even as you watch the muscles in his shoulders shake with the effort of controlling himself.

“why’s that make you shy? don’t like me talking about your pussy? you wanna know how good you feel, baby? you’re—shit,” another shallow thrust, his brows pinching together, “so tight and, fuck, taking me so well…” his rambling trails out into nonsensical murmurs. 

he’s slowly working into a rhythm, flexing his hips backwards, still short and shallow but he’s angling himself so precisely, right against the place where you can’t stand, and it’s too much. you squirm back into the mattress, trying to escape, but there’s nowhere to go as the sensation swells to a crest. you tighten around him, your legs falling limp, your fingers creeping up into his hair, needing something to brace yourself against as the growing reverberations between your legs throb outwards, filling your stomach with heat.

you can almost see your orgasm rocketing up through you, your vision cutting out right as you shatter with a pathetic moan of his name. your cunt clamps down on him hard, again and again, rippling around him. he watches you fall apart, his breathing steady despite the tremor in his limbs. he barely gives you a minute to recover before he’s moving again, deepening his thrusts, expression one of absolute focus. the sheer concentration in his eyes scares the shit out of you; you know that look. it’s the one he gets whenever someone tells him no to an idea in the studio, when someone says that he shouldn't put out another black and white music video, when his bullish stubbornness completely takes over.

matty leans back, raising himself onto his knees between your spread legs. he brings a hand under each of your knees, crooking your legs up around his waist as he works in and out of you, the wet squelch of your cunt loud over the muffled sounds of the forgotten movie as he begins to fuck you in earnest. you can’t breathe, incapacitated by the shuddering of your legs, your stomach muscles clenching as your body desperately tries to keep up with your frantic gasping. your back is arched, your shoulders forced down into the bed with the force of each thrust as he reaches down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit as easily as though your body is laid out the same as his guitars or keyboards, practised and nimble.

sweat prickles your skin anew as his fingers drag you higher and incomprehensibly higher and you wail, slapping a hand over your mouth to still the sound. he leans over you, the triangle of bare skin at his chest gleaming with sweat, fine silver chain glinting under the edge of his shirt. he grabs your wrist and moves your hand aside, pinning it to the bed beside your head.

"hey, hey. c'mon babe, let me hear you." he times a perfectly-aligned thrust with a firm stroke over your clit and, unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathless moan. he grins, chuckling breathily.

"god, you sound so good. prettiest fuckin' thing ive ever heard," he murmurs, voice ragged. he rips the sound from you again, and again, watching greedily. it’s too much, way too much and you’re already over the edge of another orgasm before you realize what’s happening, eyes rolling back in your head, mouth open in wordless pleasure.

this time he doesn’t slow down, instead increasing the pressure on your clit, fucking you deeper. his cock hits something sharp high up in your guts and you sob as another orgasm rolls up from your stomach, washing over the last climax. your hips twitch helplessly against his grip as he fucks you through each wave of pleasure, and you think you’re coming again, or still coming, you can’t tell anymore, time losing all meaning as your cunt sucks wet at his cock, bearing down on him vice-tight.

some impossible time later, you realize his breaths have shortened into gasps. his hips stutter and he leans back down over you, arms braced on either side of your head as his pace falls out of its steady rhythm. you manage to regain control of yourself long enough to reach a hand up to the back of his neck, feeling the hem of his shirt under your fingers. he looks down at you, and his mouth drops open, eyes dropping shut as he groans your name, low and rough, and as he plunges in deep you actually feel him coming before he does. his back curves over you, his forehead pressed to yours as his hips shudder, and the tightening of his stomach muscles against yours is echoed inside you as his cock throbs, filling you.

he lays heavy on your chest, both of you panting. everything is so slick underneath you, you can’t tell what’s sweat and what’s cum, your skin feverish. you shift your thighs restlessly, sticky and aching and he raises his head, looking down at you.

“was that...okay?” you breathe, self-conscious again.

his eyes shut briefly as he shakes his head.

“you’re crazy. she’s crazy,” he says to nobody in particular, lifting himself over you, hands pressing into the mattress. 

gasping, you sit up on your elbows to look down at him.

“what are you doing?”

his tongue laves long stripe along your still-sensitive pussy, dipping briefly inside before he breaks the contact to look up at you, eyebrow raised.

“cleaning you up. you thought we were done?”

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© 2023 justlikemebutsixfootthree - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or claim as yours

#matty ⎕ ‧₊˚ #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #matty healy #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 imagine #matty healy smut #matty healy drabble #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #fanfic #the 1975 matty #the 1975 imagines #the 1975 preference #the 1975 preferences #the 1975 one shot #the 1975 one shots #the 1975 fanfiction #matt healy #matthew healy #matty healy preference #matty healy imagine #matty healy imagines #matty healy preferences #matty healy one shot #matty healy one shots #matty healy fanfiction

[happy74827]

All I Wanted Was You

[Thor Odinson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Thor had always been there to protect you, save you, and love you… Until he couldn't.

WC: 3540

Category: Heavy Angst, Some hurt/comfort, mentions of Loki, Hela, and Heimdall {TW warning: Thanos and “evil squidward” — I know his name but I think Tony’s nickname is too iconic}

So I recently rewatched Infinity War, and of course watching Thor cry over losing literally everyone else he cares for in the first 15 minutes of the movie sparked my writer heart {finally} and after listening to Paramore we have this hot mess of angst (also why are all my Thor fics so angsty when he’s the definition of fluff?? I live for the drama I guess)

And just for the record, we don’t talk about the fact that I have thousands of requests and this isn’t even one of them 💀😭

『••✎••』

They say fear lies in the unknown. In the absence of facts and knowledge, the mind creates a world of illusions. If you believe your own fears, they become reality.

So what happens when the thing you fear the most is taken from you? When everything else falls to nothing? When the world is turned upside down?

You're left with a feeling that can only be described as the deepest pain imaginable.

You're left with nothing but your fear.

Your heart was racing so fast, and your breaths were short. You could feel every single muscle in your body tense up as the unnamed alien man dragged you further and further into the unknown.

The trip back to Earth, back to your sanctuary of a home, was nothing but a blur. After everything that had gone down within Asgard, including Asgard's destruction, all you could think about was your lover. Your other half.

Thor.

He was in pain, and not just physically. You had been separated due to his secretive, power-hungry sister, to where he’d left you alone with his kind-hearted people to find his father, only to disappear and leave you alone with the slaughtering of the Asgardians.

The people you’ve met that very day ended up slaughtered by Hela. Some took you by the hand, guiding and shielding you for protection against the God of Death and her henchmen. Others, you could tell, were more than just scared; they were terrified. The ones that were too slow or the ones that decided to fight back were killed within an instant.

You were no warrior. You were a simple, plain human who somehow caught the eye of the mighty Thor Odinson, and for some reason, he was in love with you.

So, while everyone else fought against Hela and her henchmen, you ran. Thor had left you there in assurance of your safety, thinking the search for his father with Loki, of all people, would be too risky for you, but in reality, you would have rather been with him. At least then, if you were to die, you could have been in the arms of the one you love.

Miraculously, you had survived the fall of Asgard and the escape from Surtur. You had no clue how. Maybe you were just lucky, or perhaps it was the grace of the Allfather. Even Heimdall, the man who saw everything, didn’t see you making it out alive.

But, when Thor had found you in the throne room cornered by some henchmen, it became a fact that Heimdall couldn’t see everything; after all.

The moment your eyes had met, the moment you heard the sound of metal against flesh, the moment his strong, powerful, protective arms wrapped around your fragile, vulnerable, weak form, and the moment his lips kissed the top of your head, you were safe.

Safe.

The only time you felt genuinely safe was when you were with Thor. His mere presence made you feel at ease. Like nothing could ever touch you or hurt you because he wouldn't let it.

He would protect you no matter the cost. He’d die for you, give his life for you, and go to the depths of Hell and back for you. He loved you, and that was something you could never understand.

Why would such a mighty god, a king, and a warrior want to love a simple human like yourself? A clumsy one at that.

You weren’t special in any way. You were ordinary.

But Thor, he was extraordinary.

The God of Thunder, a king and a warrior, a prince and a protector.

He was everything you were not.

It wasn't just the physical things that made him great, too, but the things that were inside.

Thor was a good man. A caring man. One who always thought about others and not himself.

Thor had his moments, yes, but no one is perfect. Not even a god. But the thing that made you love him, that made you want him, and the thing that made you feel safe was his heart.

That was the only part of him you could understand. The way he cared. The way he loved. The way he could make anyone smile. The way he could bring light to anyone's dark.

That's what makes a man a man. And that's why you loved him.

Even now, with one eye, a missing hammer, and a lost kingdom, he was still your everything.

And now you were reunited after being separated again. The only problem was the circumstances.

You and Thor had been in an intimate moment. The relief of having you back in his arms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins from surviving such a tragedy, had you both desperate.

He had pinned you against the wall, his hands brushing your hair away from your face to get a better look at you before he pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss. He was always so gentle with you. The teasing and playful nips at your bottom lip were proof of that.

But the sudden sight of a ship out the large window you’d stared out of moments before the kiss broke your concentration.

Thor had pulled apart almost immediately, the feeling of his beard no longer tickling your face, but the heat of his breath and the sweet taste of his lips was still there.

It didn't take long before Thor was following your eyes, seeing for himself what had pulled you from him.

A sense of dread washed over you when you noticed how he tensed and his grip on your waist tightened. This wasn’t another Asgardian ship; no, this was something far more dangerous. You could tell by the look in Thor's eye, his non-missing eye.

Then, within seconds, he grabbed hold of your arm and yanked you out of the room. Your heart was pounding as you started yelling questions at him, trying to understand what was going on.

But, when he hit the button that sealed the room you were once in and shielded you within his arms, the panic started to set in.

That's when everything began to blur.

You remembered the sound of explosions. The tearing of metal. The screams. The smell of burning.

It all came crashing down.

Loki had come around the corner, and seeing his expression, it didn’t take much to realize what was going on.

If Loki, the God of Mischief and Lies, was terrified, then that meant something big was going down.

Thor was yelling orders, shouting commands. You could barely make out what he was saying, but you knew he was telling you to stay behind him.

Stay behind him.

Always stay behind him.

Then it changed to get the hell off the ship.

Then, to run.

Run.

Run.

Run.

The last thing you remember was looking back as you sprinted down the halls, seeing your love, your other half, the king, the prince, the protector, your Thor, fighting some creature with his bare hands.

His face was so determined. He wasn’t going down without a fight. You ran to where he had told you to go, the escape pods where Val was helping others into. You got there and saw her eyes. They were wide and full of worry.

Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

The sound of an explosion brought you back to the present.

Val grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you toward a pod. You could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins and, your heart was racing so fast, and your breaths were short.

All you could think about was Thor. Where was he? Was he alright?

No.

He was not.

As soon as you entered the pod and Val had closed you in it, it was suddenly torn apart. The supposed sliding door had been ripped from its hinges.

The metal that you rested your back upon started to give, and the feeling of moving forward caused your heart to leap.

You were launched out and onto the floor.

It took a second to gain your bearings. You looked up and saw Val. She was fighting, and you were thankful to see her, but it was a short-lived relief.

The… thing she was fighting, the blue alien, grabbed hold of her and flung her across the ship. She landed somewhere near a pod and didn't move. You remembered screaming for her, but she didn't budge.

That's when the creature turned his attention to you.

You tried to move, but the metal that was supposed to hold the pod in place had you pinned.

You tried to pry the metal from your skin, but your weak and vulnerable body couldn’t break the bond.

The alien slowly moved towards you and, in a swift movement, had ripped the metal away.

He was so close, and you had no idea what was going on, who he was, or what his intentions were.

When you felt his large, rough, and cold hand wrap around the back of your neck, panic started to set in. You wanted to kick and scream, but all you could do was stare at the beast before you.

And thus, you were dragged away from the evacuation site and thrown into a separate area. You came to the conclusion that whoever this was, it seemed to be a metal bender or something similar due to his abilities.

All you saw was a demented blue face with squid-like features, staring down at you as he threw you around like a rag doll.

The fifth time he threw you, you landed roughly on the floor, causing your shoulder to make a loud crack noise and the pain to shoot through your body. Your hands landed on something soft, softer than the floor, and when you looked down, you realized the blue thing had thrown you into a room full of corpses.

But it wasn’t just any corpses. The one you had specifically landed upon had been the body of the man you had recently become close friends with, Thor’s friend, Heimdall.

Tears immediately pooled in your eyes, and your breathing became ragged. You tried to sit up and pull your body off of Heimdall in respect, but the pain shooting through your arm and back kept you frozen in place.

The lifeless eyes of the man who saw everything were open, and for once, he was staring at nothing. It was a haunting image.

The tears were now falling, and a sob escaped your lips. You wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. You wanted to scream and shout. You wanted to fight and claw at the alien that took until it bled. But all you could do was lay there, unable to move and weep.

Then, a voice caught your attention. It was deep, and it was coming from the alien that had brought you to this place.

His eyes were no longer focused on you, but they were somewhere else. He was talking to someone.

“Boss,” it spoke, his voice deep and gravelly. You couldn’t bear to look at the being. Not when you were face to face with the lifeless body of the gatekeeper. “There’s a human woman here. A pathetic one, no doubt, but one nonetheless. Should we end her? Or leave her to rot like the others?"

A silence filled the air, and you had no idea what was going on, who he was speaking with, or who was giving him instructions. You could’ve looked. You could have glanced up at the thing, and seen for yourself, but you too were afraid.

Your eyes remained glued to the golden ones that were once filled with light and wisdom.

There was silence, and then a loud, deep, thump. It had startled you, but it wasn't anything like the explosion of the ship, no, it sounded more like a boot or a shoe had come in contact with metal. But, it was loud enough to grab your attention.

You didn’t move. Your eyes didn't stray.

But, your body trembled in fear.

Suddenly, you heard his voice, and it sounded more terrifying than any sound that had echoed in the air prior. It was even deeper, and even more frightening than the other.

“I think not. We have use of her."

He had a deep and gravelly voice, but it was smooth. Calm. Almost friendly.

Then, a large, purple foot, appeared in your vision, and slowly, the purple being leaned down and stared at you. His gaze was strong, and piercing. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. You were too terrified to move, speak, or breathe.

Again, it wasn’t human. It was an alien. And a big one, at that.

He had no hair, only a helmet. His skin was purple and he wore strange looking clothing, including a golden glove that had both a bright purple stone and a blue one.

You’ve never seen such a creature before. You thought those dark elves were terrifying, but they were nothing compared to this man.

And for some reason, he was looking at you like you were an ant, and he was the boot that would crush you.

In fact, he was looking at you with pity, and it confused the hell out of you.

But, when his hand moved, and his fingers had touched the soft strand of your hair, you couldn't help but flinch.

The moment his fingers made contact with you, though, you heard a loud grunt. One that didn’t sound alienated or distorted. It was clear, and you could tell who it was, instantly.

Your head shot up, ignoring the pain in your arm, and the moment your eyes met his, everything stopped.

Everything.

It was Thor.

Your Thor. Your everything.

He was in front of you the entire time, and you had no clue.

The tears were falling. They were falling hard and fast, and you couldn’t stop them. And for once, it wasn’t because of relief.

Thor was encased with metal. His arms and legs were pinned by it. He was bleeding from his head, and he was covered in bruises.

He looked like hell and gave off the same energy.

He was struggling to free himself. That’s what the sounds were. The grunts, the heavy breathing, and the loud thumping. He was trying to get out of his prison to get to you. To save you.

The alien was staring down at you. His eyes were dark and intimidating, but his presence was even more so. He was the embodiment of terror.

Then, without any warning, he grabbed you by the throat.

It was an unexpected move. He had picked you up by the neck with just one hand. He had a grip so tight you couldn't breathe, and the pressure on your throat was unbearable.

You could hear Thor screaming. Yelling.

You could barely hear what he was saying. Your ears were ringing, and the pain of the hand wrapped around your throat was all you could focus on.

But, you could see him. You could see him perfectly.

You saw his blue eye and the patch that covered the missing one. You saw the stubble along his chin. The slight scar that was just below the patch. The wrinkles on his forehead.

You could see it all.

And the look of desperation and horror. It broke you.

You couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much.

Then, in the blink of an eye, you felt release.

You fell to the floor and started gasping for air. It was like the moment the alien released his grip on you, everything began again. The world, your thoughts, the chaos.

It was all there, and you couldn’t keep up.

“I see it now.” You heard the voice of the alien say. Your vision was blurry, and your eyes were still stinging from the tears, but you could make him out if only a bit.

He was now standing, towering over you, but he wasn’t looking at you. No, he was looking at Thor; his eyes were focused on the god, which sent a chill down your spine.

When dealing with Hela, you find yourself recovering with confidence. She could’ve easily killed you with a snap of her finger, but when she demanded your name, you had spat in her face and gave a smile.

Even though Thor wasn’t there at that moment, you somehow knew he’d be coming back to put an end to her, and you would be safe. It was like a sixth sense that came and made you stop panicking and running.

And, even though he technically didn’t put her down, he still was your knight in shining armor. It was the same with the dark elves and even with Loki.

They were all terrifying, yes, but somehow, you knew that Thor would save the day.

Now, though, it was different. You weren’t scared or panicked; no, you were terrified.

The fact that Thor was trapped and was physically in pain, the fact that Heimdall and more innocent Asgardians were lying on the floor, dead, and the fact that Loki was missing and Val was knocked unconscious, it had all hit you at once.

You felt like you were suffocating, and it only worsened when the alien spoke again.

“I was questioning why a mortal was amongst a group of Asgardians, how such a fragile being could survive so long among gods. I wondered, but I see it now. You have been blessed by one, and the last, of Odin's children."

The alien's attention was back on you, and the intensity of his gaze had you trembling. He was staring at you, looking through you, and reading you like a book.

"What a pitiful yet fortunate creature you are."

It was like the oxygen had been sucked from your lungs, and when he moved, you found yourself flinching and scooting backward.

He had leaned down again, and his large hand had grabbed the side of your face. The feeling of his skin on yours made your skin crawl, and the urge to vomit was growing.

Thor wasn’t having it. He was thrashing about; the metal that was encasing his body was bending and stretching with each move.

His cries of anger and the desperation in his eyes were heartbreaking. And it was only shut up by the alien who had taken you. A piece of metal flew to Thor’s mouth and held it in place, preventing him from yelling.

More grunts and muffled noises could be heard from the god, but you could no longer see him now. The purple man was blocking your view.

But, despite that, he was still talking to Thor.

"It is a shame, Thor Odinson. I take pity on the both of you, and I apologize, for it seems that fate has not been kind to either of you. But, we must make sacrifices. It is unfortunate that your beloved had to be one of them."

Then, suddenly, the alien turned his gaze back to you, and his dark eyes bore into yours. He was staring directly into your soul.

"Fear not, small child,” he said, his voice sounding almost calm. “You will not have to endure the pain and suffering as I did.”

The words that left his mouth did not give you comfort. It was quite the opposite.

Thor came back into your viewpoint as the purple man had moved, and when your eyes met his, all you saw was a mixture of panic and despair.

Thor's expression had you feeling a type of way. You could feel your stomach sink.

You weren’t dumb. You were far from it.

You knew where this was going, and your mind was screaming, screaming for you to do something, anything.

Run.

Fight.

Scream.

Just do something.

But all you did was stare. Stare at the man that you loved. The man that loved you. The man who had saved you countless times.

But he couldn’t save you now, even when you cried out his name in a soft voice, that frail, humane part of you begging him with your eyes to stop this from happening.

To stop it from hurting.

He couldn’t.

All he could do was look at you, look as you were taken. Look as you were pulled away from him.

All he could do was stare and scream.

It was the loudest, most horrific sound you had ever heard. It was worse than the explosion.

It was worse than anything.

It was the cry of a man who had just lost the last thing that gave him purpose.

It was the sound of a god being torn to pieces.

And it was all because of you.

That was the last thing you heard. That was the last image that burned itself into your brain.

The sound of Thor and his desperate screams was the last thing you remembered.

Everything after that was darkness.

No memories, no thoughts, nothing.

Just darkness.

All he wanted was you.

All he needed was you.

And now, all he had left was the memory of you: that and his broken heart.

#thor odinson #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x yn #thor x reader #thor x f!reader #thor odinson angst #thor odinson x y/n #thor odinson/reader #thor odinson x you #x reader #reader #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu thor #marvel cinematic universe #chris hemsworth x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #mcu angst #marvel fanfic #marvel x reader #marvelfic #marvel #mcu fandom #mcu fanfiction #thor odison imagine #thor ragnarok #the avengers x reader

[minhosimthings]

A Quiet Christmas With Skz

Pairings: Bf!Skz × fem!reader (separate)

Warnings: when I say this is the fluffiest shit ever-

A/N: merry Christmas everyone! I hope your day goes splendid today! Enjoy some of my silly writings for Christmas today.

Bang Christopher Chan

Christmas was that time of the year, that time when all your worries would go away and all that would be left was chocolate, stockings, Christmas cake, and the handsome man currently engulfing you in his arms right now.

"Channie baby I know you want to comfort me, but I am kinda suffocating right now." You wriggled in his tight grasp, giggling as you looked up to see his humongous pout.

"Not my fault you decided to watch the one Christmas movie which makes you cry!" He defended himself, still not letting go of you. "The Grinch is a deeply emotional movie Christopher." You playfully glared at him.

"alright Mrs Grinch."

Although it was a cold snowy day, with snow falling on every inch on your face, you felt warmed, from the gigantic heater inside of your heart that your boyfriend provided you with. Even without the ugly Christmas sweaters and the giant knit blanket you had over you, you would still feel warm within Chan's warm grasp.

"if I'm Mrs Grinch, won't you be Mr. Grinch?" "Hey!"

Lee Minho

"Minho, get your ass in here!" You cried from your sitting place on the warm floor of the living room. Thank God for the room heater, you thought, you would have been laying dead of cold instead if it weren't there.

"It's 10 am in the morning woman what do you want?" Minho sluggishly walked down the stairs, a yawn decorating his face, which quickly turned into a look of widened eyes and opened mouth as soon as he saw what was in your hands.

"Ta Da!" Minho's jaws almost fell to the floor. His eyes sparkled at the sight.

The cats in tiny ugly sweaters?

"I-I thought you'd like it." You grinned up at him, carefully cuddling Soonie in your arms, who looked very tired in her Rudolph sweater, "The pet store had some so I got these for our babies." You gestured at Doongie and Dori, clad in green sweaters, tussling over a piece of string. "Oh the material is completely safe for them!" You said, noticing the look on Minho's face, "And I think it-"

Your sentence was left incomplete as Minho's lips landed on yours for a sweet kiss. God his lips were cold, you thought, more of a reason to warm them up.

"Marry me." "Minho what."

Seo Changbin

Christmas with Changbin was always a whirlpool. Of what? That you didn't know since it kept changing every year. Last year it had been breaking a leg quite literally at the skating rink, two years ago it had been accidentally breaking each other's nose while trying to kiss under the mistletoe. But this year, you were determined.

To not burn yourself while making cookies. And unfortunately, that, too, became a fail.

"I'm sorry Binnie." You hung your head down, as Changbin carefully bandaged your hand, his lips leaving soft kisses everywhere. "For what?" Changbin looked up at you in confusion, his curls falling on his face making him look adorable, "Oh this? I don't mind bunny."

"No I mean-" you took in a deep breath, "Every year I always manage to get my clumsy ass injured and we can't ever have a cute little normal Christmas."

"You should replace Hyunjin as the PaboRacha leader with all those dumb thoughts inside your head." Changbin chuckled, holding your hand softly, "This is almost like our little tradition for Christmas, getting our clumsy asses injured and i find that quite romantic you know? Who wants a normal Christmas anyway when we can spend it annoying the nurses at the hospital every year?"

"Forever the romantic aren't you?" You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss.

"only for you."

Hwang Hyunjin

Raiding the local paint shops was a tradition for you and Hyunjin that had been going on since the beginning of your relationship. So it was no surprise that this year, too, the paint shops had feared the arrival of you two.

"Jinnie could you come over here?" You called your boyfriend, who was probably somewhere on the other side of the shop. But being the simp that he is for you, he would have heard your whisper from Antarctica if he wanted to.

And sure enough, about five minutes after you called him, he was at your tail.

"Yes darling?" Hyunjin looked down at you with puppy eyes before spotting what you were carrying in your hands "Wait is that-"

"The oil paints you've been looking for which specifically has an entire section for skin tones?" you threw your hair back with your hand, "Yes, yes it is. And I just bought it with my own money cause I know your ass won't let me pay for shit, so now you can't pay for it! Ha!"

"Please marry me." "Hyun, no."

Han Jisung

You had never really celebrated Christmas, having grown up in a family who didn't care much for family time. But meeting Jisung was basically like meeting Mr Claus himself.

Han Jisung was a Christmas nut and he knew it. But you had never expected him to do somthing like this for you.

"Hannie did you-" "Write a Christmas song for you? Yes, yes I did."

Your eyes welled up with tears. So this was why he wouldn't let you into his studio for a month, you thought, seeing all the reindeers, heaps of mistletoe, and Christmas cookies laying on the table.

"Hey hey hey don't cry." Jisung wrapped his arms around you, "I know you don't celebrate Christmas much, but I want you to have fun today."

"why are you so fucking sweet?" You sobbed, not being able to keep your emotions in, "Although I should admit, you shouldn't have bought the mistletoe." You said, before crashing into him for a deep kiss. He tasted like gingerbread men and snow ball fights, in which you always defeated him.

"I don't need any excuse to kiss you."

Lee Felix Yongbok

Gingerbread men. The epitome of Christmas. Everyone knew about them and everyone loved them. And you could take in the familiar, sweet scent of them on Christmas morning, when you turned around and saw your boyfriend missing from his usual place next you.

"Lixie?" You crept into the kitchen, giving yourself a pat on the back as you saw exactly what you thought you would, "Felix what are you doing?"

"you're awake!" Felix turned to you, clad in an ugly sweater, with baubles knitted onto them, "No you weren't supposed to wake up!" He pouted at you, as he sadly looked to the kitchen counter.

"Lixieee." You giggled, skipping over to where he was standing dejected, "Baby we could have made the gingerbread men together!"

"But I wanted to surprise you." He pouted more, the gingerbread men seeming to pout with him. "How about we make a gingerbread house hmm?" You wrapped yourself around him, "And then we can cuddle up and watch dumb Christmas movies?"

"Even the rom com ones?" "Even the rom com ones."

Felix chuckled and pressed a tiny kiss to your forehead, embracing you with warmth.

"thank god you came though I don't know how to frost them."

Kim Seungmin

You had always had a tradition with your grandmother to knit sweaters on Christmas day to gift to the rest of the family. It was a fun tradition, allowing you to bond with her and also learn the art of knitting. But ever since she passed, you had a Christmas shaped hole in your heart, not knowing if you even wanted to knit anymore. But seeing Seungmin so eager, with knitting needles in his hands, and an eager expression on his face, your heart melted.

"Seungmin, what are you doing?" You giggled, seeing your boyfriend eagerly knit a thread through a wrong hope with furrowed brows and a stuck out tongue. "Why is this so hard?" He grumbled, "My hands are dying."

"Then why did you even decide to do knit, Minnie?" You ruffled his hair as he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his head into your neck. "I wanted to make you happy." He mumbled into your neck, driving you to the point of tears.

"Thank you Minnie." You said, planting a soft kiss to his forehead as he looked up at you.

"Now, let's knit some very ugly sweaters for Chan."

Yang Jeongin

"Yang Jeongin no." You glared at your boyfriend, silently going back to reading your book as soon as you did.

Breaking your gingerbread man was one thing, but making fun of it was another, and now Jeongin found himself trapped in a war where he had to earn your kisses.

"Honey, pleeease?" He drawled, bending infront of you, and doing the biggest puppy eyes he could. Your only weakness of course were his puppy eyes.

"No." You rejected his offer to make the gingerbread cookies again. You were willing to see how far he would go, to convince you, so you kept up with your act, but you were surprised to see that he shrugged his shoulders and stalked away into the living room.

Merry Christmas I guess, you thought, going back to reading your book.

"Oh no Y/N, what's this?" You heard Jeongin's voice behind you, as you looked up to see him dangling a piece of greenery above your head, "Oh no you're under mistletoe, quick you should kiss someone!"

His silliness finally made you crack a smile as you burst out laughing, his hands caressing your cheeks as he pulled you in for a kiss.

"You're such a loser Innie."

"I know, now come on we hava shit ton of things to bake."

#skz #skz headcanons #stray kids headcannons #stray kids headcanons #skz fluff #skz fluff imagines #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids fluff imagines #stray kids fluff headcannons #skz fluff headcannons #skz christmas #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #Felix #Seungmin #i.n #bang christopher chan #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix yongbok #kim Seungmin #yang jeongin #bye bye now

[fbfh]

dad!tony + stark!reader growing up/childhood hcs

wc: 1.4k

genre: fluff, a little angst, preventative hurt/comfort, family/domestic bliss

pairing: dad!tony + kid!stark!reader, gen 1 ironfam (tony, pepper, rhodey, happy) + reader

warnings: Tony loved your mom and thinks you look like her, your mom is not in the picture (open to interpretation), takes place in the early 2010s, mentions of iron man 1 - 3 and the first avengers movie, tony's a good dad, brief mentions of kidnapping/attacks/general danger, tony found out he had a kid and took you in backstory, bonding, tony's a good dad, did I mention Tony's a good dad

a/n: oh boy did this make me feel things lol. self shipping to cope hours who's with me.

@yesv01 @afidiofobia @thatmultifandomloser @babiesimagines @lizziebitch33 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl  @dustyinkpages @liberty-barnes

Knowing what Tony’s like

And we all know what he’s like

The odds are if you’re his kid that he did not know you existed for at least a couple years

(I also like this backstory most bc it puts you roughly in the same age group as Peter and Harley and yall already know how I feel about that)

Your mom is probably someone that caught his attention and heart during his playboy era then disappeared

A few years later 

You or turn up with a very detailed letter from your mom addressed to him

And you look so much like her it knocks the air right out of him

You also look so much like him too

You have all of his sass and intelligence and mannerisms 

It’s shocking at first

You probably came into his life some time after he became iron man but before the avengers were formed

Early 2010s yk 

Which means you actually have a little time to settle into your new life before shit hits the fan again

You know the whole “I’m trying to break generation cycles” thing he has with Peter in homecoming?? 

He has that exact same talk with you

He does so much research and a fuck ton of self reflection on how to raise a kid 

And really be present for them

It's a very spicy emotional time for both of you 

Because he realizes he needs to deal with all the unresolved shit he's been suppressing and ignoring 

And you're trying to deal with the fact that up until now, you really weren't being taken care of like you should have been 

And you're both trying to deal with how scary and dangerous all of the new threats out there are as Fury presses Tony to join the avengers

But you make it work

Because Tony is not giving up on you

And he's not resting until you're totally happy and comfortable and safe with all your needs met

The first time you call him dad?????

He has to try so hard not to cry

He's just so proud of you 

And he loves you so much

He gets that feeling whenever you call him dad

Even when you say it every day 

Even when you introduce him as your dad 

And reference him as your dad 

No matter how often it happens

He never stops getting that feeling

He majorly prioritizes making sure you have a good education too

And that you’re really getting something out of it

Whatever the best solution for you is, you’ll figure it out

While I love the idea of little baby stark just showing up to class in like 3rd grade and being like “this is my dad’s old prosthetic heart it’s a miniature arc reactor he built in a cave when he was kidnapped by terrorists” then proceeding to explain to your whole class and teacher how he designed built and powered the first draft of his suit, and how the electromagnet keeps the shrapnel in his chest from killing him 

Or Tony calling you in sick and you show up a few days later sunkissed with souvenirs from the gorgeous tropical island he took you to “on business” 

After getting separated and having both your lives threatened during the battle of manhattan and the surrounding events

And after getting attacked (again) and not knowing you thought he was dead during the whole ordeal with Killian

He’s going to want to keep you close to him

You can’t get kidnapped or hurt or attacked if you’re near enough for him to keep you safe

And he can’t get kidnapped or hurt or attacked if you’re close by enough to make sure he’s really doing okay

After all the shit you’ve both been through you’ll probably both end up with a lot of anxiety and attachment issues 

But he works together with you to come up with plans for pretty much everything and every eventuality

Even if you know it might not help change the fact that there will be more fights to take on in the future, having a plan for keeping you safe during them makes you both feel a lot more better

And knowing he’s planned for every eventuality takes a huge weight off Tony’s mind too

Which means he can fight even better and save the world with a little more security knowing you’re okay now, and you’re going to be okay when he’s done with whatever problem he’s dealing with

So practically speaking he’ll probably get you a private tutor

Maybe online classes or homeschooling if those end up working better

But he’ll have Pepper find him some good candidates, then grill the living shit out of them

He’ll figure out their communication styles, their teaching styles, and generally if they pass the vibe test

When he finds someone who will actually be able to help you learn, they have to train a lot before they start tutoring you

The last thing he wants is for learning to become a source of distress for you instead of a tool to empower you

Plus having a tutor he can drag along with you means you have even more freedom to jet all over the world so he can surprise you with trips without either of you worrying about you falling behind

And speaking of empowering you

There is absolutely zero chance you’re not learning self defense and how to fight

He somehow helps you skip past the “wow self defense is scary” part right into the “wow this is super empowering and I feel safer and more secure since I started learning how to do this” part

Once you fly through the ranks of a bunch of different self defense and martial arts and fighting styles 

Then you start doing hero training

He makes you a suit that’s armed to the teeth

And also safety protocoled to the teeth

“For emergencies only.” 

After many, many safety talks, now you get to move onto the fun part

He gets to teach you how to use it

Neither of you can deny how much fun it is learning how to blast lasers from your palms or shoot rockets out of your wrists

He literally gets to teach you how to fly

It feels magical

It really feels magical watching you

His kid

Literally learn to fly with his help

God he’s just so proud of you

He loves you so much

Between the traveling and the privacy issues and the safety concerns, anything else you do 

Any skills or extracurriculars or hobbies 

Will also probably be from a tutor or private instructor too

One of his love languages is gift giving

He’s really looking forward to when you’re old enough for him to just hand you a credit card so he can see what you find when you come back

But until then he gets to spoil the shit out of you

Real talk he’s not going to stop spoiling you when you’re old enough to shop for yourself anyway

He loves the way your face lights up when he surprises you with something really cool

Trips, events, gadgets he made you

Anything you could conceptually want or imagine

All he has to do is wave his magic wand and now you have hyper realistic rainbow silicone mermaid tails for when you go swimming 

You have a secret reading room hidden in the back of your closet that you access by pulling a book on a shelf

He even has a toy made after you in your favorite toy line 

Barbies, american girls, legos, action figures

Or whatever your favorite toy/figurine is

He surprises you with a new one that looks just like you

And you lose your shit

Because who wouldn’t

What can he say

Tony loves spoiling you

Your existence is the greatest thing he could ever hope for

You are the most important beloved cherished thing in his life

All he wants is to keep you safe and happy and well taken care of 

And maybe a little pampered and spoiled

But you deserve it

You deserve to have the world handed to you

Which is exactly what he intends to do

#tony stark #tony stark + reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x son!reader #tony stark x stark!reader #tony stark x reader #marvel x reader #marvel x stark!reader #marvel x child reader #mcu #mcu x stark!reader #mcu x reader #marvel #dad!tony stark #dad!tony x reader #dad!tony + reader #my silence is deafening tbh #when I first started watching marvel movies and was like 'oh cool tony stark would be fun to have as a dad lol' #i did not expect to find myself here #it's not just me right